#please and thank you to any and all who respond

[murderofravens]

DUSK TILL DAWN

pairing: hwang inho/young-il/frontman x fem reader.

warnings: age gap (reader is 20, inho is in his late 40s) slowburn. oral fixation. thigh riding. plot with porn. yearning. sexual tension. canon compliant. slight infantilization. no y/n used.

summary: he promised that you will make it out alive. he will make sure of it, no matter what it takes.

word count: 6.5k

please ignore any mistakes.

as you wipe the blood from your face, the reality of your situation sets in. you never thought you'd get used to the smell of blood— much less the sight of it. or the texture. and now you're covered in it. the white of your uniform splattered with crimson, the metallic smell of it almost overwhelming. in a situation like the one you're in, you can only laugh. the mere sight of blood used to make you feel faint; make you want to throw up because you're squeamish. now you're covered in it from head to toe.

it's not yours. it's of the people they shot dead during the second game.

you barely remember how you made it out alive. the second one was all thanks to your team— thanos and nam-gyu were the closest to your age, and teaming up with them worked in your favour. your age and gender was a liability to the others, but they were kind enough to take you in. or perhaps they were thinking with their dicks. would it really matter either way?

but with the way they act, you're not sure if you want to continue being in a team with them. especially since thanos keeps trying to woo you with his poor rapping skills. they're way too loud and reckless for you, and you're scared they might get you killed. they're not willing to give up the game anytime soon, either.

then there's the first game— you're alive, because of 456. that crazy man who supposedly had played the games before. if it wasn't for him pulling you behind his back, you would've left the premises in a cardboard box. especially because you fucking sneezed as soon as the doll turned back.

since then, you've decided you don't want to play this game anymore. 456 has been desperately trying to change the other's mind— but they're greedy and insistent. you pressed the cross for his sake, and for the others, and for yourself. hell, you can live in debt, but what use is that money if you die trying? you're not that much of a hard worker. you value your life above anything else.

you walk over to their team— 456, and his two loud team members. another man is sitting there— player 001. the one who ruined your chance of going home on the first vote. he seems ordinary, but you know of him because you saw him beat the shit out of thanos. that was another reason you decided to abandon that team— you could not be seen with a bully, or a loser. as you approach him, you give him a slight nod of acknowledgement, which he returns. you turn your attention to 456, and thank him profusely for what he did for you. he's kind, you'll give him that. you like kind people.

"if you don't mind me asking—" a voice interrupts, and you look over your shoulder. it's player 001. he looks at you curiously. "how old are you?"

"old enough." you retort cheekily. he doesn't look amused as he cocks his head to the side.

"i'm curious as to why a little kid like you would compromise herself for money."

that shuts you up. you're offended, to say the least. who is he to call you a little kid? the entire team also looks on, seemingly baffled. the question makes sense. you're sure you're the youngest out of all players. and people can tell because you look it too. you don't really know how to respond, so you just look on with a frown, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"forgive me—" he lets out an awkward chuckle, "i didn't mean it the wrong way. i'm just worried."

you give him an uneasy smile, rubbing the back of your neck. the others go back to their conversations, and you shrug. he shoots a glance towards gi-hun before sitting back down and shifting slightly, as if making room for you. you take a seat beside him. there's silence before he glances at the symbol on your jacket— the cross.

"i'm sorry." he says with a small smile, looking straight ahead, "you wanted to go home but you had to continue because of me. i put a kid in danger."

"i'm not a kid," you huff softly, straightening up, "i'm twenty. but yeah, you should be sorry."

you give him a small smile to ensure he knows that the last line is lighthearted. he seems to understand and returns it.

"dont worry about it," you sigh, fiddling with the zip of your jacket, "im sure you had your reasons. just like i have mine for coming here."

"and your parents?" he asks. he's so polite, it warms your heart. polite and soft spoken. and visibly tough. probably some officer, you think, judging by his skills you preciously saw.

"that's what i need the money for." you sigh, leaning back against the bunker. "i need enough money to establish myself. continue my studies. bring my mom and my sister to come live with me. settle off my father's debts because he's a coward who decided to pass down his sins onto his daughter."

he raises his eyebrows, and you take a sharp breath. there's a moment of silence between you two— you think for a moment, and feel your eyes get slightly glassy. you're not going to cry in front of a stranger. you put on a brave face. "if i die here, my mother—"

he stares at you silently, before putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, interrupting your cursed sentence. "you'll make it out alive."

the doors open, and the staff comes in again. they reveal the number of players left, showcase the money that each person would get, and then the voting starts again.

this time, player 001 doesn't disappoint you. he goes first, and clicks on the cross. the hope it gives you eventually shatters as more and more players begin to vote in favour of continuing the game. you see 456 get increasingly agitated as he begins to make his way towards the front of the crowd. before he can speak, he's interrupted.

001's voice rings out loud and authoritative, and worried. he reprimands the voters in favour, calls them out on their selfishness.

"we'll all die if we keep playing!" he chastises the crowd urgently. "you have to survive first, or there won't be a next step—"

"there's no next step for us!" he's interrupted by player 100. a stout old man who had been at odds against 456 since the start— you remember him having 10 billion won in debt. it makes you snicker. he eggs on the crowd. "with that money, we won't be able to pay our debts. we need to play one more game, then the money will increase to 240 million. with that we can pay atleast a little of our debts! isn't that right!?"

"you're going to die trying!" you snap, making your way to the front of the crowd. you glare at player 100, at all his little supporters cheering at the back. "your greed is going to get you killed. how can you be so confident to say that you'll survive the next game? what if you die?"

"you shut up, young lady!" he hisses, mouth scrunching bitterly. "is that how you speak to your elders? your brain is too small to comprehend real life problems. we can't continue with our lives with that little money!"

"continue your lives?" a laugh bubbles out of your throat. "look at that greying head of yours, you barely have a life ahead of you! why don't you let us live ours?!"

that seems to have ticked him off, because he quite literally turns red as he takes a threatening step towards you.

"what did you just say?"

"i said—" you step forward, shooting him a challenging glare, "you're too old to be playing children's games. vote wisely and let us go home."

he lets out a snarl before trying to lunge at you, but you're pulled back as player 001 steps between the two of you. like a wall. he looks at the old man, eyes cold, his voice low. "that's enough."

since the incident with thanos, nobody has really tried anything with 001. it's obvious enough they're intimidated by him, and they don't want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. 100 doesn't either, with the way he collects himself and steps back, embarrassed. you look over 001's shoulder, make eye contact with the old man and shoot him a taunting smile. you know it's childish, but you've resented him from the start.

before the old man can say anything, player 001 drags you to the side where you can't argue with people anymore. and the voting continues.

"you can't talk to people like this," he says lowly, gaze focused on the crowd. staring at something that you can't figure out. "you never know what they might do."

you huff bitterly. you know what he means.

"i don't care. i fucking hate bullies."

"potty mouth." he chastises, but theres a smirk on his face. he's teasing. you chuckle.

"remember you need to get out of here alive." he repeats, looking at you with an intensity that is almost terrifying. "you can't do that if you keep this up."

"jeez, okay dad." you joke, rolling your eyes. your words make him smile lightly.

"thanks for having my back there." you tell him sincerely. he looks at you for a bit before nodding in acknowledgement.

the voting ends, and they announce that the games will continue tomorrow. it makes your heart drop.

that night, you feel uneasy when you try to sleep. your clothes stick to your skin, and the side of your face keeps itching. with an irritated grumble, you get off the bunker and walk over to your new friend's side. you squint your eyes before looking for 001— and when you find him, you gently shake him.

"are you sleeping?" you whisper.

he opens his eyes, wincing slightly before sitting up. his voice is hushed as he responds, "not anymore. what is it?"

you bite your lower lip nervously before reluctantly asking, "will you go to the restroom with me? i'm kinda scared to go alone."

he blinks at you, confused. you continue out of sheer desperation.

"those guards just stare weirdly with their weird little masks and it makes me nervous." you hope your voice doesn't shake as you speak. "last time one of them kept knocking on the door while i was in the washroom and it just— scared the shit out of me. and my face is itching and i really need to go. please?"

he listens patiently. for a moment you think he'd decline but he just sighs and nods, and you cheer just a little as he steps out and follows you to the door. you bang on it, loudly telling the guards that you need to go. one of them opens the sliding window, and then immediately opens the door. it makes you feel strange, because usually it takes a lot more effort to convince them. either way, you're grateful.

you know your better option would've been to take one of the girls with you, but the sad fact is you haven't had the chance to get friendly with any of the female players yet. and for some reason, player 001 makes you feel a sense of safety and security that is almost strange— you feel at ease around him.

"i'll be in the men's room," he tells you, and you nod. he shoots a glance to the guard standing outside the women's restroom before walking away. you quickly go inside, and the first thing you do is splash water on your face.

you quickly clean the blood off your skin, holding back the urge to cry. you scrub at your cheeks till you're sure you can scratch the itch away for good. your nails dig a little too deep, and a little blood oozes out of the scratches on the side of your face. you clean that too, and then try to scrub the splatters of blood off your t-shirt. it's white, and you have no soap— so the stains remain. a faint reminder. you take your time, and anticipate the knocking— but it never comes.

you look in the mirror, at your tired face and sunken eyes, before giving yourself a nod and stepping out. 001 is waiting for you outside, looking to the side. he gives you an odd look as you step out, before walking alongside you.

"are you alright?" he asks gently, concerned. kind as ever.

you look at him again, give him a nod. "thank you."

when you two reach the room, he returns the smile with one of his own.

as you make your way to the bunker, he grabs your shoulder, "why don't you start sleeping on our side?" he says quietly, "join the team. there's a bed near mine. you won't feel so scared that way."

you blink, trying to see his face in the darkness. the offer is enticing— and most of all, it warms your heart.

"really?" you ask hopefully.

"really." he says kindly.

you follow him to the bunker, and he covers the railing with his hand to avoid you getting hurt as you bend down to get into the bed. he looks at the slightly wet patches on your shirt— blinks before getting a bedsheet and putting it over you. "get some sleep. we got a game to play tomorrow."

you smile softly at him. as he turns to get into his own bed, you grab his hand. it's warm against yours— big and rough. you don't allow your mind to drift that way. it's not right. he looks at you, gaze questioning.

"thanks again," you say softly, "it means a lot to me."

he leans down a little to ruffle your hair before going back to his bed and laying down. you close your eyes and drift to sleep— unaware that he stays up, thinking.

breakfast is boring— bread and milk. you sit on the bed, scowling. player 456 is surprised as he sees you there, before you two share understanding smiles. you bow a little and he bows back before going along with his friend. 001 comes to sit by you then, munching on his own breakfast.

"i miss home," you mumble, "how am i supposed to survive on just this? it's not even chocolate milk."

001 laughs, "don't worry, you can have whatever you want once you get out of here."

"will i?"

he looks at you, raising his eyebrows. you take his silence as a cue to continue, "im scared i'll die in here."

he looks down, before shifting to be closer to you. "you made it this far, didn't you?"

you look at him, voice getting shaky. "and what if i dont make it till the end? what if i die here and my family thinks i abandoned them? i don't want to die. i haven't even lived my life yet."

his expression is hard to read. "you'll make it out of here alive," he tells you with conviction, "ill make sure of it."

your lips wobble as you stare at him, and he smiles before poking you in the nose. "finish your food. you need the energy for the next game. we'll make it out alive, then we'll try to get the voters on our side and go home. sound good?"

you snort, rolling your eyes before nodding. "sounds good."

he gives you his bread then, tells you to eat more. when you protest, he sends a warning glare your way— the one with a quirked eyebrow and a knowing gaze. you roll your eyes, and happily eat it.

you were hungry. perhaps he can tell things like that. you're just grateful.

today, you decided to be a little rebellious. when you first joined the games, you used to spend a long time in the bathrooms— analyzing, looking for a way out. during that time, you'd discovered that one of the screws in the ceiling vent was loose. you hadn't really bothered checking it before, but since it's daytime and you have some time before the next game, you decide to explore.

your hairclip works— the screws were not tightly fixed, so it unscrewed easily. you'd contemplated checking it out last night, but you didn't want to take any risks, especially since player 001 was with you. so now whatever you do, the responsibility will be yours.

when the bathroom gets empty and all the women leave, you pull it down and try climbing up. it's moments like these that you can pride yourself on your agility— work that usually required two people, you could do alone. with one leg on the flush and the other on the top of the cubicle, you climbed up, scratching the side of your arm slightly before finally getting in the vents. you groaned to yourself, and then started crawling inside. there were two ways to go— you chose the left one. you looked down, trying to understand the layout of the place where you were practically held hostage. you keep crawling, making sure not to make too much noise before finally seeing a place through the gaps that you hadn't seen before— you carefully remove the screws and pull it apart.

the place looks empty. the walls are all sorts of pink and green. you put your head down and look both ways, seeing a door at the end of the hallway. carefully, you climb down and lower yourself to the ground with a thump. your shoulder hurts a little. you stand up, and aim for the door. as soon as you begin walking, you hear footsteps. it's as if someone splashed cold water on you— you realize the grave mistake you just made. guards walk here with guns, and you made the impulsive decision to explore a dangerous place like this by yourself?

you look around, running towards the other end of the hallway. the footsteps get louder, and as you look over your shoulder, something grabs you. out of reflex, you go to scream, but a hand clamps down on your mouth, and your back collides with a hard chest.

"shh, it's me." the voice hisses. your wide eyes look up, scared, before realizing who it is.

player 001.

your chest heaves as you break out into a sweat, a tear rolling down your cheek. he keeps you in a tight hold, looking to the side, your breath dampening his hand. the footsteps suddenly become faint, as if walking away. your breaths sync together, and after a moment, he relaxes.

he takes his hand off your mouth before harshly twisting you to face him. his voice is hushed but angry, "what were you thinking?!"

"what are you doing here?" you whisper shakily at the same time.

"everyone was back in the room except you. i came to find you!" he chides, eyes hard. he shakes you slightly, "do you really plan to get killed like this? is this how you want to die? can you go one moment without being a reckless brat—"

his words make you want to cower in on yourself.

"i wanted to find a way out." you try to sound assertive, but your voice betrays you. your words come out panicked, "I wanted to help and— fuck— i got you in trouble too— you shouldn't have come looking for me! fuck— how are we gonna make it out of here?"

he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut before looking at you tiredly. "the game is about to start. we'll mix in with the crowd when they leave, i doubt they'll notice."

"are you sure it'll work?" you ask. you hear a faint announcement. the game is about to start.

he looks up at the speakers, alert. he grabs you tightly and drags you away with an air of confidence. "let's go."

you don't encounter any guards on the way back. it's strange, but you figure it's because they're all preparing for the next game. player 001's plan worked, because you two mixed in with the crowd, and the guards didn't notice. one of them turned back to look at you, and you panted, staring back at him. your heart raced, but you felt the presence of 001 next to you, and you felt at ease again. the guard looked away.

"i told you to stop being reckless." he says quietly, looking at 456 and 390, before looking back at you. your legs hurt from climbing so many stairs. "what would you have done if they found you?"

you swallow the lump in your throat, staring up at him intensely, eyes glassy. he saved your life. "i guess you stopped that from happening."

he clenches his jaw, his gaze flickering up and down your face before looking away. "i won't always be there to save you."

you look away, heart dropping. "thank you, 001."

"call me young-il."

you look up at him, blinking back tears, quirking an eyebrow as you two walk. "only if you allow me to add 'sir' at the end of it."

he chuckles, eyes crinkling. he has such a nice laugh. "why's that? respect?"

you nod, giving a little bow. "respect is very important in my culture as well. so thank you for saving my life, young-il sir."

he grins a little and pats your head. you thank him again, and decide you like him enough. so you tell him your name.

he tests it on his tongue, and you quite like the way he says it.

the next game had to be the most terrifying so far.

it was called mingle, and you had to run to the rooms in groups according to the number announced. things like these were where you got scared— where you had to group with people. in dangerous situations, you know people usually only look out for two types of people— themselves, and the ones dearest to them.

you were not dear to anyone here. you really should've interacted with more people.

the platform rotates, before the number is announced. six. your eyes widen and you frantically look around, but young-il is faster. he grabs you and drags you to the room with the rest of the team. you pant as the 30 seconds pass, and then look out the window in the door to see how many people were left— quite a few. your eyes widen as the red guards move forward with their guns raised.

young-il leaps forward and covers your eyes with his hand before pulling you into himself as the gunshots ring out— you flinch and shudder at every single one, breathing sharp and your entire frame trembling violently. when there is silence and the doors open, you look up. young-il gently lets go of you, looking around. he's panting too, and you look at him with the most crushed look on your face before he meets your gaze. he can tell what you want to know— why would you do that?

"you shouldn't have to see all this." he says quietly, adjusting his jacket and putting a little distance between you too. 456 pats your shoulder and makes sure people are okay before moving out. you just look at young-il for a while, but he simply looks around, seemingly lost in thought. as if fighting a war within himself. you wish you knew how to reassure him like he did with you, but you realize you barely know anything about him.

the entire floor is painted with blood. the sight makes you want to vomit. you walk carefully, but your foot slips in someone's blood and you begin to fall over. 456 catches you. "are you alright?"

instinctively, your gaze tries to find young-il but he's standing away. his head is lowered.

"yes, thank you." you give 456 a smile, before assuming your place on the platform again.

you play a few more rounds. you're lucky enough to have someone to team with each time— young-il and 456 don't let go of you even once. but then the voice runs out again, and they announce the number 3. this time, 456 is dragged along with the old woman and her son. you look around frantically, and meet young-il's panicked gaze with your own. you begin to run towards him, but two people grab you and drag you towards one of the rooms.

thanos and nam-gyu. you shriek at them, clawing at their arms and trying to run back out. what if young-il doesn't make it? what if something bad happens?

this time, you have no one to cover your eyes or ears. thanos and nam-gyu talk shit within themselves, and you look outside the little window, flinching with every gunshot ringing out, trying to pinpoint if it's young-il's body falling to the ground. you can't help the light sob erupting from your throat, and thanos chooses the wrong moment to come bother you.

"watcha looking for, señorita?" he laughs, poking your side, "is it your old man? did he finally—"

you turn to him and punch him in the face. he falls back and groans dramatically, rubbing the blood running down his nose. nam-gyu rushes to his rescue, giggling. they're both high as a kite. the doors open, and you rush out before they can bother you further.

you look around. 456 is with the rest of the team, but you can't find young-il. frantically, you look towards the dead bodies, heart pounding against your chest and head throbbing. suddenly, there's cheers from your team, and you look up to see young-il walking over with a bright grin on his face.

you don't know what compelled you to do it. you were acting on your emotions— overwhelmed by the relief you felt on the sight of his face. before you can even stop, you're dashing towards him and crashing into his body, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

he's shocked, that much is obvious by the way he tenses slightly. but then he returns the hug, wrapping his arms around you and placing one hand on your head, gently patting. "i told you we'd make it."

you choke on a soft sob, nodding, burying your head further into his chest, as if ready to climb inside him, "i thought you—"

he shushes you softly, voice gentle as he runs a hand through your hair. you can feel his heart racing against his chest too. you wonder if it's for the same reasons as you. "i'm okay."

you wish the game ended there. but there was one more round to go. as you rotated on the platform— the moment you were dreading finally happened as young-il predicted it. the number announced was two.

you were ready to die there. things seemed to happen in slow motion— 456 took his best friend 390, 149 was dragged by her son. you didn't get the chance to see who took who next, because young-il had grabbed your hand and was dragging you towards one of the rooms. there were only fifty rooms— the first one you two got to was taken. he dragged you to another with a mere ten seconds left.

you sighed in relief as you got in, before seeing another man was already there. he was shaking in fear, and you jumped at the harshness of young-il's voice when he ordered him to get out. when the other player refused, young-il lunged at him and put him in a headlock.

your eyes widened and you stepped forward, panic stricken but he looked right at you and called your name, "close your eyes!"

you flinched. you looked at the man, then at young-il, before squeezing your eyes shut. you slid to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest as soon as you heard a 'crack' before opening your eyes.

the player was dead. young-il cracked his neck.

the timer finished at that exact moment, and young-il crawled over to you before pulling you into his chest. the gunshots rang out, and you flinched, sobbing.

young-il killed someone.

"i had to do it," he whispered against your hair, holding your head against his chest, "we both have to make it out alive. i had to do it. you know that right?"

you wanted to believe him, you really did. but in that moment, you felt scared of him for the first time.

the doors opened, and the game finished.

while you wanted to revel in your victory, the incident during mingle had rattled you to your core. the others checked up on you, especially 388 and 456. young-il maintained some distance. you could feel like he thought it's what you wanted. but you could really use his comfort. you just don't know how to talk to him again without being nervous. you force yourself to relive your previous interactions with him— he's still the same young-il who has saved you and comforted you countless times.

he did what he had to do to ensure your survival. that wasn't something you could hold against him. not when both of your lives were on the line.

the voting this time was just as challenging. you made your way to the front of the crowd, praying that they'd choose wisely this time. you need to go home.

one of the players in the old man's team showed you the finger before clicking the 'o' button. the action made your eye twitch, and you grit your teeth before straightening up to attack that guy and scratch his face off, but a hand to your chest held you back.

if looks could kill, young-il's glare could've sent that guy home in a body bag. as the votes in favour of continuing the game increased, you pushed his hand off you and addressed the crowd, "have you all lost your fucking minds?!"

their chitter chatter stopped and they looked at you. you clench your jaw, "after losing so many people out there you still want to play? what the fuck is wrong with you people? are human lives that invaluable to you?"

player 100 steps forward, insufferable as always. "don't you see how much money we're getting for each person? it could settle our debt! we can't give up after how far we've come."

"you're gonna die!" you snap, pointing at him, "you could take this money and go home and be happy instead of risking your life for something that is not assured to you! why won't you listen?! i want to go home!"

the others in favour of terminating the game start chanting with you, a string of 'i want to go home' echoing across the room.

player 100 glares, urging his own team to chant against you. he looks towards young-il, yells something along the lines of, "look after your fucking kid!" before the barell of a gun presses against the back of your head. the whole room freezes, and so do you.

"disruptions against a democratic vote will not be excused." the robotic voice calls out. for a second you think this is it. you look at young-il. if you die here, you'd prefer the man who saved your life to be the last person you see. he glares at the guard, his jaw clenching. the guard lowers the gun and steps back and you let out a breath of relief.

you immediately saunter over to him, gritting your teeth. the vote is a tie— and they announce the next voting to be held tomorrow.

456 says there's about to be a fight. the rest of the team got busy setting up a barricade— and you didn't get the chance to talk to your player. you knew his concern though, when he made sure to especially hide your side of the bed with two mattresses.

you play with the hem of your shirt as you sit in your bed by your lonesome. your food sits by you, untouched. you dont feel like eating. the weight on the bed shifts, and young-il appears into view.

"you're not eating."

you swallow the lump in your throat. "i don't feel like it."

he contemplates, eyes lowered before he looks at you again. "im sorry you had to witness that. I don't want you to be scared of me."

you want to cry. "im not." you whisper, "you.. you had to do what you had to do. to save us."

he blinks, nodding.

"back there, i thought that was it. it's over." you chuckle bitterly. "but you saved me again. you acted on impulse. i could never resent you for it."

your eyes are bloodshot as you look at him again. fat tears roll down your cheeks, and he frowns. he sighs before leaning closer, brushing the tears away. "why are you crying?"

"i wouldn't have survived this far if it wasn't for you." you whisper, voice cracking. "promise me you wouldn't abandon me. promise me you won't die."

his gaze softens. he's silent for a bit, his hand coming to rest on your knee, "i promise."

you sniffle, wiping your tears away. a small smile appears on your face, "i punched thanos."

"thanos?" he frowns, confused before raising his eyebrows in recognition, "ah, the loud kid with the purple hair?"

you nod proudly. "he said something like 'did 001 finally die?' so i punched him."

he laughs heartily— face scrunching cutely, eyes crinkling. he shakes his head fondly before ruffling your hair again. "attagirl."

it makes you blush slightly and you smile, looking down at your lap. he grabs your dinner— the roll sitting next to you and unwraps it, taking out a piece before holding it out, "eat."

you snort before leaning forward and taking a bite. he looks at you for a while with that faraway look in his eyes, before wordlessly continuing to feed you the rest. the words go unsaid. 'what are we doing? why are we so comfortable with each other?'

some sauce sticks to the corner of your mouth. he raises his hand to hold your chin, his thumb gently wiping it off. your breath hitches.

neither of you protest when his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, gaze focused on it like he's hypnotized. he's thinking, mindlessly feeling the plush texture of it.

you've always been impulsive. especially in situations where you shouldn't be. it happens so naturally— how your lips part just slightly. and maybe he's impulsive too, because his thumb slips inside, and his breath hitches as soon as your lips wrap around his thumb.

his gaze raises to meet yours— and you blink almost dazedly. his thumb presses down on your tongue, and he calls out your name in the softest voice.

"i'm too old for you." he whispers, shaking his head in disapproval.

your eyes flutter, and you lean forward, grabbing hold of his wrist. he pulls his thumb out, and you almost whine in protest. to your utter delight, he replaces it with two of his fingers, and your eyes almost roll back as you crawl forward till you're situated on his lap, mouth stuffed with his index and middle finger. you suck on them enthusiastically. they're long and thick and perfect and you don't want them out of your mouth ever again. it elicits a soft moan out of him— and if you could put that sound on repeat for the rest of your life, you'd be happy.

he pulls his fingers out and grabs the back of your head, pulling you close till your foreheads press together. you try to lean forward, to capture his lips with your own. he chuckles slightly, eyes closed, playfully rubbing his nose against yours. you whine.

"so impatient." he whispers, and then his lips are colliding with yours. it would be embarrassing if someone were to catch you two like this— more so for him than for you. thankfully, the others are busy strategizing for the night, and are not looking for either of you.

you moan softly and he bites down on your bottom lip, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. it's desperate and reckless and so full of spit— it makes you whimper into his mouth and he pulls you further into himself, as if telling you to shut up. his experience is obvious in the way he kisses, and you follow his lead. unknowingly, your hips start gently grinding against his thigh, and he lets out a soft hiss. he pulls away slightly, strings of saliva connecting your mouths. he licks it away.

"come on, sweetheart," he whispers, one hand coming down to help your hips grind against his thigh, "make yourself feel good— that's it, that's my good girl."

you moan softly, and his free hand clamps your mouth shut. he speeds his movement, clenching and unclenching the muscle of his thigh, guiding your hips to move faster against his lap. it's been so long since you've masturbated— and this is unarguably the hottest situation you've ever been in, with the hottest man you've ever seen. so you're already close. you cry out into his hand, your voice muffled. he understands what you mean and lets you move on your own speed then, pulling your head into the crook of his neck as he whispers soft words of praise into your ear.

the moment he calls you his good girl again, you cum. he muffles the sound with his hand, squeezing his eyes shut before he looks at you intensely. you collapse against him, slightly sweaty, your hands holding onto his shoulders as you cling to him. he runs his hand through your hair, breathing sharply. it's a small moment of bliss in the hell you've found yourself in.

soon, the lights go out, and dread settles in your stomach once you feel his body tensing. player 388 pulls one of the mattresses back slightly, hisses a quick "get under the bed!"

and the next game begins.

A/N: this was incredibly fun to write. i love writing him a little soft and fatherly, so deal with it. i might write a part 2 for this, if anyone wants that. this idea has been in my head for a while. i love him so, so much. this fic is my baby and i truly hope you guys like reading it as much as i liked writing it.

tags! @carolinevoight @lovers-roq @wildtigerlili @menabuser16 @deadlyobsessivfennec @watasinekoru @hanakokunzz @cowuies

[captainkirkk]

Thank you to everyone who responded to this!!! I promised I would reblog this post eventually with these recs so I'm here to deliver.

Please free to add on more fics if you know any that aren't on here

In Utter Hones-tea by agooseinhiding

The Jasmine Dragon has been formally invited to join the Earth King's retinue as he takes the monumental first step onto Fire Nation soil since the start of the Hundred-Year War! Truly, an honor.

Unfortunately, "The Jasmine Dragon" includes Li, the owner's grumpy nephew with an outrageously bad haircut and a wardrobe that's solely green, who knows way too much about the Avatar and his teachers, and who swears on his honor that he's totally, definitely not the Fire Lord.

Somehow, the other tea servers don't believe him. But they've never gotten a chance to prove it (or disprove it, in some cases) until now.

The Jasmine Dragon is going to the Fire Nation, and Hua Ming is going to show once and for all that shop-famous enigma Li is Lord Zuko himself, or she's going to die trying.

(She is going to die on this trip.)

Ft.: General Iroh playing the biggest prank in Fire Nation history, a five thousand yuan bet, and the Jasmine Dragon tea servers.

The Customer is King by Sabretoothgooselion

Two absolute monarchs meet accidentally in a tea shop, and end up coming to an understanding.

(Or: two perspectives on taking a break.)

Eye to Eye by ApoplecticAtPeace

When working in the Fire Lord's private garden, Chaishu is knocked over by someone who doesn't seem to understand the danger of loitering in such a place. The stranger, Lee, seems nice enough, if a little detached from reality, but after bumping into each other a few more times, Chaishu is surprised to find himself looking at a genuine friendship unfolding.

Well, perhaps not 'looking'. After all, Chaishu is blind.

Taking a Break (In) by Duckduck_Scribblerswan (Caellie_E_and_Vaye_R)

After a few agonizingly slow seconds of exhausted, confused pondering, Zuko decided there was only one logical conclusion. “You’re right," he told the assassins, "I’m here to help you kill the Fire Lord.” Like a genius.

Caldera City is holding a festival to celebrate finally having enough funds to hold a festival! Although Zuko originally deemed himself too busy to go, Sokka managed to cajol him into attending his own party, in a knock-off Blue Spirit disguise for security purposes. Zuko sneaks back into the palace right in time to catch a group of assassins sneaking out. They failed to find the Fire Lord and assume he's reinforcements.

Zuko needs to find who ordered a strike on him before they do something stupid, like order a second one. Obviously, the most reasonable thing to do is join the assassins and hope they don’t figure out who he actually is. Obviously. There’s literally no other option.

Feat. Zuko's only two coping mechanisms (mortal peril and improv theater), the world's most incompetent hit team, and another knock-off Blue Spirit who's determined to prove this "Li" isn't who he says he is.

Ready to throw Hands by shipping_ruined_my_life

Part 1 of The Fire Lord's Favourite Restaurant

Zuko dines in a restaurant and interferes with a difficult customer.

Love is in the Hair by Erisenyo

The Fire Lord needs a new hairdresser, a grueling process of vetting and testing and background checking. Sokka might know just the person, though--if only he can find her in the city. And if only he can figure out how to make sure Zuko likes her without revealing the whole, you know. Fire Lord thing.

Or: Sokka takes Zuko on a date in the city that does not go at all how Zuko expects it to. (At least not at first)

All I Need Is To Be Struck (By Your Electric Love) by Erisenyo

[“Vitok couldn’t think his way out of a circle in the snow,” Zuko says, tart, and Sokka lets out a surprised laugh at the unexpected, mostly correct saying. Zuko must be writing Bato again.

“Not like the head of the Southern delegation, of course,” Sokka says, grinning at the dry look that earns him. “Why, I’ve heard he’s so dashing and handsome and intelligent and—”

“Humble,” Zuko puts in, tugging lightly on the long fall of Sokka’s wolf tail. “So very, very humble.”

Sokka bats his eyelashes. “It’s his best feature, probably.”

Zuko hums, giving him a blatant, thorough once over. “Depends on who you ask.”]

--

Sokka doesn’t know how Zuko managed to swing an entire day off during a week of trade negotiations—he does, actually, it was yelling—but he isn’t going to waste the opportunity now that it’s in his lap.

Eating. Shopping. Relaxing. Exploring Gaoling. Testing the limits of trying on clothes as a form of foreplay.

With a whole day in front of them, there’s no need to rush. But with Zuko looking so good outside of the usual layers of his Fire Lord robes, there’s no reason for Sokka not to have some fun along the way.

Fire Lord Zuko Goes To School by BookLoverL

It's a few months after Zuko took the throne, and, now that things are settling down in the palace, and the retreat from the colonies is going well, Zuko decides it's time to take a look at the Fire Nation's education policy. The best way to do this? It's clearly to disguise himself as a normal student and enrol himself in a school for a few weeks.

What will he learn about the state of the Fire Nation? And will he get through the few weeks without blowing his cover?

I have a sudden urge for "undercover post-canon Zuko" fics (because the "hidden king" trope is one of my favourites). I'm going to go hunting on ao3, but please send me your recs for this trope if you have any 🙏🙏

[henrygrass]

Seven Sentence Sunday

Thank you for the tag, @heartstringsduet! Once again, I am working on an Andrea-centric fic because I just can't let go of my favorite Lone Star mom. This is sort of a part two of "Love Woven Through Time." Anyway, here's the snippet:

“The lights are still on; there’s still time, mijo,” she reassures Carlos, giving his arm a gentle squeeze to calm his nerves.

Just then, the auditorium lights dim, as if to prove her wrong. She huffs, her eyes darting to the entrance, hoping that TK will burst through any moment. Knowing him, he’s likely racing through the city in the ambulance, sirens wailing, determined to reach Jonah before the curtain rises.

“Is your kid in the play?” a woman beside Carlos chirps, her voice high-pitched and piercing, rising above the chatter of the auditorium.

Andrea turns her head slightly, catching sight of Carlos meticulously adjusting the camera, his brows furrowed in concentration as he prepares to capture every moment of Jonah’s first school play.

“Yes,” he replies, his focus unwavering as he fine-tunes the settings, leaving little room for small talk.

“My Derek is playing the royal messenger,” she announces. “But all the kids playing the animal friends must be talented too,” she adds, puffing out her chest with a hint of pride in her son’s role.

Derek… Andrea’s mind races, connecting the child’s name with a conversation she had with TK last week. This must be Veronica, the mom who commented on TK's chocolate cake during the last parent-teacher meeting for the play, saying, “Good thing you’re a paramedic; you can save us from this.” Andrea can almost see the scene unfold as TK mimicked her, complete with her dramatic coughing. Although she was unaware that TK was the one who made it, Andrea still glares at her; she will remember that face.

Carlos turns to Veronica, nodding. “Oh, that’s fantastic! You must be so proud!” he responds, his voice laced with sincerity, though Andrea can detect the familiar undertone of his own chest swelling with pride. She suppresses a grin, bracing herself for what’s to come.

“Mine’s playing the prince,” he beams, his focus shifting back to the camera.

Open tag & no pressure tagging

@heartstringsduet @emsprovisions @alrightbuckaroo @nisbanisba @welcometololaland

@thisbuildinghasfeelings @lemonlyman-dotcom @decafdino @reyesstrand @futures-tense

@bonheur-cafe @carlos-in-glasses @theghostofashton @tellmegoodbye @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@herefortarlos @strandnreyes @carlos-tk @lightningboltreader @sapphic--kiwi

@ladytessa74 @paperstorm @chicgeekgirl89 @ironheartwriter @everlastingday

@carlossreaders @pimento-playing-hopscotch @goodways @liminalmemories21

(Please, let me know if you want to be added or removed)

[lookingfts]

Dialogue Game - Prompts #5 and #6

#5 - "I’m pretty much fucked…" (@ottovastra)

Anthony was exhausted. Back-to-back meetings, a hysterical phone call from Hyacinth, plus he’d forgotten to eat all day, so his head was pounding and his energy was sapped. His delivery order arrived only minutes after he did, and he was preparing to tuck in to his Pad Thai when there was a knock on his door.

That wasn’t unexpected – not with his enormous family. But the woman standing on his front steps was decidedly not one of his siblings.

“Hey,” she said sheepishly. “I’m really sorry to bother you, but my car broke down and your light was on and the tow truck is taking forever, and I’m pretty much fucked without a car – sorry, that’s not your concern – but I just really need to use your loo if that’s not too much of an imposition?”

For a long moment, Anthony didn’t respond, thoroughly distracted as he took her in. He wasn’t exactly starving for pretty women, but someone this gorgeous literally landing on his doorstep still felt like a bolt from the heavens. Tall and lithe, glowing deep skin and diamond-sharp cheekbones. Thick winding curls and eyes that seemed to glitter gold.

She arched a brow, and he realized that his silence was probably reading a bit creepy. “Oh, sorry, of course. Please, come in. Second door on the left, there.”

“Thank you so much.” The woman disappeared down the hallway, and Anthony stood there stupidly, unsure what to do. But in the few minutes it took her to return, he’d resolved. “I won’t trouble you any longer, thank you again for-.”

“Do you like Thai food?”

Super smooth, Anthony. The woman stilled, sinking her teeth into her lip. “Um, yeah. I do.”

“Well, I just had some delivered,” he explained, gesturing vaguely toward the kitchen. “And you’re welcome to wait in here for the tow truck and have some dinner, if you would like.”

She simply stared at him for a moment, and then she smiled, sending a surprisingly strong current through his blood. “I- yeah, that would be nice,” she said. “I’m Kate, by the way.”

“Right,” he laughed. They were standing in his living room, and he hadn’t even thought to introduce himself. “Anthony.”

“Anthony,” she echoed, rolling it around on her tongue, and he quite liked the way that sounded. “Well, maybe I broke down in the right place.”

He grinned, all his earlier exhaustion dissipating. Strange, how quickly his day could change. “Maybe you did.”

#6 - "You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that." "I do-- almost as long as I've been waiting to say it." (@mimix007)

She was such an idiot.

Truly, she didn’t know. All this time, she thought it was Edwina. The way he tried to ingratiate himself into her family; sending them flowers, asking Kate questions about them, inviting them to Aubrey Hall. Why else would he do it, but to woo her lovely, sweet, worthy-of-being-a-Viscountess sister?

And so she hadn’t meant to hurt him, hadn’t thought she was hurting him, when she brought her coworker Ian to the Bridgerton holiday party. She thought he would ask Edwina and Kate just didn’t want to be alone, didn’t want to be heartbroken and pathetic in the corner. Or at least, she didn’t want everyone to see that she was heartbroken and pathetic. Feeling it was probably inevitable.

She didn’t go home with Ian, of course – he was only a friend, and one who had agreed to accompany her for the legendary buffet and gift bags in addition to friendly loyalty. She had been laying on her sofa, relieved that the night wasn’t a catastrophe, when Ben texted her. Are you dating that guy?

Kate didn’t want to admit anything – even to Ben, who would surely understand but might tell Anthony, and then what was the point? Why are you asking?

Look, I know Anthony is an idiot, and a dick most of the time. But if you didn’t want him, you could have just told him that instead of showing up with someone else. That really hurt him.

She read the text seven times before she could stop believing that she’d read it wrong. What the hell are you talking about? Anthony has been chasing Edwina, not me.

Oh, Christ. I say this with love, but you’re just as stupid as he is.

A few seconds, and then another message. He doesn’t want Edwina.

Something tightened in her stomach. If he wasn’t interested in Edwina, then either he had a thing for older women – Mary was still gorgeous, to be fair – or…

Or she’d really fucked up tonight.

She hadn’t bothered changing out of her red sequined dress, and she threw her coat back on before hopping on the tube. This was absurd, completely absurd, but she knew she had to look Anthony in the eye when she asked him for the truth. Even when he lied, she could always tell. His face betrayed him.

He started a little when he opened the door, clearly not expecting her, and Kate swallowed. “I’m not dating Ian.”

There was a dip in his shoulders as he relaxed. “You’re not?”

Kate shook her head. “You didn’t want Edwina?”

Anthony’s eyes widened, and he closed the distance between them by a step. “No, I never- I never said that, why would you-?”

She shrugged, feeling stupid. It wasn’t hard to puzzle it out, if she really thought about it. “Everyone does.”

“I don’t,” he sighed, and she held her breath. They were standing right on the edge of something, the truth that could consume them whole, and the idea of falling terrified her. But a lifetime on the edge sounded even worse. “Your sister is great, but you were the only one I ever wanted. Ben witnessed a pretty embarrassing meltdown when I saw you with that guy tonight. I just…I’m in love with you, Kate. I thought it was obvious.”

All the tension melted from his body, and he looked…free. Kate pressed her lips together, tears pricking hot at her eyes. Maybe it was obvious, or it would have been, if she hadn’t been so blind. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

“Yeah, I do,” Anthony said, a wide smile forming on his face at the confirmation that his feelings were reciprocated, or at least welcomed. “Almost as long as I’ve been waiting to say it.”

Feeling bold, Kate stepped through his doorway, and Anthony took a step back to make room for her. “I’m in love with you,” she confessed, and the joy on his face stole all the air from her lungs. “And it’s not too late to take this dress off me tonight.”

Anthony chuckled, low and rich, shutting the door behind her and backing her gently up against it. “That,” he murmured, sliding her coat off her shoulders. “Is a brilliant idea.”

[concretejunglefm]

i need to share w someone who will understand.

making sub!noah touch himself for you, and not just that—edging. being in the same room as that? 😮‍💨 long inked fingers teasing his

you could also have him send you proof when he’s on tour :3

- @somebodyels3

KELS WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME? also thank you because now i can't unthink this.

Pairing: sub!Noah Sebastian x dom f!reader.

CW: smut including masturbation, anal fingering (m receiving), mention of toy use, dirty talk, edging and orgasm denial.

Names: Good boy, Sweet boy, Puppy, Miss (reader), brief mommy mention from reader.

NSFW under the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

SWEET BOY: Please, Miss. I can't hold out any longer. Just let me stroke it, please?

A wicked grin spread across your features as you read over the text. The entire day had been spent sending Noah the most raunchy texts and voice notes you could while he was away on tour, purposely working him up, aware that he couldn't touch himself without your say or it resulting in a punishment. Of course, he could always touch himself and lie about that to you, but you had him trained enough to be the best good boy for you. You knew that his guilt of doing something like that wouldn't last too long and he'd break and confess, if only to embrace a punishment or seek one because you knew that he always wanted to be the best for you. Even in his bratty moods, he did.

YOU: Soon. You're such an eager puppy.

At the notification flashing up in response, you let out a giggle when it's a voice message of him groaning, audibly frustrated.

Pressing down on the microphone button, you tsk into the phone before your lips curl into a wider smirk with your words. "You want to be a good boy for me, don't you? You're so brave and strong trying to hold back for me. So tell me, sweet boy. Tell me how you're thinking about me late at night when you’re all alone—touching yourself to the thought of me."

Barely seconds pass before Noah responds with another voice note. "Mmm, yes, Miss. I...I want to be a good boy for you. Fuck. I think about you all the time. I can't stop wanting to touch myself when I think of you."

You respond with a single text.

YOU: Then show me.

Instead of waiting for him to respond, you FaceTime him, seeing his flustered face fill up your screen as he answers. "Are you going to touch yourself for me like a good boy?" You tilt your head and catch the way his voice chokes in his throat with the simple word of 'yes'.

"Good boy. Set me up so I can see you." You instruct him, and he follows, propping the phone up on the nearby nightstand, facing it towards the bed to capture everything.

You know that he only has the hotel room to himself for a short period of time. Whoever he was sharing with has probably gone for long enough, or he would've made some suggestion for you to call back and continue your game another time.

Although right now you can see it in the glazed-over look in his eye, he was completely yours and in the submissive headspace you love to push him into.

You softly coo praises at him, calling him all of the sweetest things while he undresses himself for you and when you finally catch sight of his hard cock in his grasp, you let out a gasp of your own.

"Oh my... have I done that to you?" Even though the camera you can see the way it twitches and pulses in his grasp, the tip is red and already leaking precum. He looks about ready to burst, and now you wish you were there to enjoy him properly.

"Take your hand away." You instruct him, and you catch the whine which causes you to click your tongue with a warning. You may be miles apart, but that won't prevent you from finding a suitable punishment to carry out on him. "I don't want you touching there. Not yet. You know where I want you to touch yourself, don't you, sweet boy?"

"h...here, Miss?" You watch the way his thighs spread wider as he leans back against the pillows stacked behind for him to lean against, and his hands begin to inch up along his thighs, his fingers teasingly exploring the space between them, stroking the space along his taint which you love to taunt him with using any number of toys when you're together.

"Yes... that's my good boy. You know just how mommy loves to touch you." Your own breath is picking up now, feeling the dull ache between your thighs growing, but you're too focused on watching to seek your own relief, not when you'll be able to use this to replay on later.

"Have you got—oh, you are a good puppy." You don't even need to remind him about the lube, seeing him use one hand to flick open the lid and squirt some, squeezing hard enough it causes a slight mess as it covers both his hole and fingers.

"Just gentle now. Nice and slow for me." You urge him on, hearing the way his sounds are becoming more choked with the slow teasing of his finger against his hole.

"Miss, please." You love listening to him beg like this when you're not there, like your own personal slutty puppy who's seeking your approval for him to touch and fuck himself. "I need you to touch me. I need you so desperately." You can hear it in his tone and it makes you shift, rubbing your thighs together. God, how you wish you were with him.

"Do you have your toy with you?"

"I do! I do!" He's so eager and ready, holding his toy up proudly, the small plug you bought for him as an experiment which became something of a beloved choice for him to use, especially when all he wanted was to be filled by you. "Can I please use it, Miss? Please? I need to feel you in me."

How can you deny him when he's like this? Begging and spreading himself for you. You watch how he works his fingers slowly inside, never pushing too deep without your instruction and you continue to give it to him, allowing for him to take the toy and watching with your own bated breath as his greedy hole swallows it. "You're such a greedy little puppy." You let out with your breath, listening to the sweet whines and moans he makes, pleading for more, needing more as his other hand ghosts along his cock before pulling away with every tongue lashing you give him about it.

"Is my puppy nice and full now?"

"Y-y…yes, Miss." He's struggling and he's so on edge that you're sure he will end up cumming over himself without any further assistance, a thought which is arguably hot, though right now you can't help but love the idea of making him suffer a little longer by denying him of what he really wants; an orgasm.

"Good boy. Now you're going to sleep like this, nice and full, and you're not allowed to cum tonight. I want you to call me back in the morning and show me how hard your cock is and what a mess you've made during the night because you're so needy." There's a sickly, saccharine tone in your voice as you taunt him, aware that he's already struggling, and you'll be surprised if he even makes it to morning before attempting to call you or failing altogether and giving you the guilt look he always has when he struggles to hold out. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss. I understand." You see the pout forming across his face, and you wish that you could come and kiss it away for him. Even if he is your submissive in this moment, you hate to see him in such a pouty state; it's one of the few things he can do which really pulls on your heartstrings, even in these moments.

"That's Mommy’s good boy." You say as you blow him a kiss before hanging up. 

When she hangs up, Noah's left whimpering, his hole squeezing tight around the plug while his cock twitches, left untouched and aching with the need to cum. From across the room, the voice of his fellow bandmate draws his attention as he smugly says. "You heard her. No cumming for you tonight." 

[eyra]

fanfic author interview tag game thing

thank you @kaaaaaaarf for the tag!

How many works do you have on AO3?

29

What's your total AO3 word count?

412,030 good heavens

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

a brief history of dragons - for how much longer can she retain the top spot? beneath a big blue sky - coming for her crown statten park - ok sure the oldest recipe for parsnip soup - very chic of her to make the top 5 within 12 months sunshine on leith - no stop reading this one please

the rest is under the cut:

Do you respond to comments?

I try to hold myself to replying to any comments fics receive when they're WIPs (I gave myself a pass for the second chapter of Piglet since it was literally christmas day by this point) and then once they're completed, I reply sporadically. would love to reply to more but I have like 14 minutes free time every day.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

the proctor house aka my favourite child

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

most of them! maybe big blue sky

Do you write crossovers?

no, I'm not in any other fandoms so I wouldn't know who to play with

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

not hate really. people sometimes say my characters are OOC but I think they a) just don't understand what AUs are or b) are fully ATYD-pilled and beyond rescue. it is what it is.

Do you write smut?

light smut. apart from seventeen hours and statten park which are just... smut.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

someone once took beneath a big blue sky and removed any traces of my name from it and put it in a google drive folder so people could download it for printing/binding, which is something I explicitly ask people not to do. that wasn't cute. oh and then an actual printed book of it appeared online for purchase and I became radicalised x

Have you ever had a fic translated?

no because I want to retain full control of my work (see above) and I can't do this if it's reposted by others, even in other languages

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no sorry I don't enjoy group work please just let me do it by myself

What's your all-time favourite ship?

wolfstar of course

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

see my above note re: sunshine on leith

What are your writing strengths?

descriptive prose (mainly: nature, architecture, and food) and dialogue

What are your writing weaknesses?

any kind of action. it's hard.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I have not done it and I don't really have thoughts on it.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I'll forever be sad that the marauders fandom doesn't have a single wlw ship that I care about. all my original work is wlw but I just..... I don't know ANY of those marauders girlies. give me someone to ship with Lily and I'll write it. I crave it. but don't say some made up name like Pandora Lovegood or whatever the kids are on about this week. you people are just MAKING STUFF UP I swear. who the hell is even Mary I honestly don't know. wasn't she Peter's absent gf in statten park. I feel like a boomer when I see posts like "omg this is sooooo Marlene McKinnon <3" like is it. is it. do we know her like that

What's your favourite fic you've written?

the proctor house - it's my best writing as far as fanfic goes. finally some good fucking food etc.

tagging anyone who fancies doing this! sorry I'm meant to be working so I'm being lazy sorry x

and also @mayescapade

[theageofsims]

These questions were asked by @memoirsofasim -- Thanks for asking me these questions/giving me these suggestions.

Originally I asked about what kind of videos I could maybe make on my Sims YouTube Channel, but I couldn't really wrap my mind around it in a way that the video wouldn't become confusing or drag on. So I decided to make a post about it instead. Anyway, here goes...

----------

Note: I just wanted to mention these two things below for anyone who might worry about starting to write/story-tell, before I answered the questions. And also, this goes for any Sims Game not just the Sims 4.

Write Without Fear

Remember to "Write Without Fear". What I mean by that is to develop a story based off of an idea that is your own. You can for sure look for inspiration (more on what will follow in this post), but the point is to not feel as if you have to tell a story someone else is already telling or you have to tell the story in the same way someone else is telling -- or that you must modify what you're writing in order to please someone else in fear of judgement.

Write For Yourself

Remember to always "Write For Yourself" because at the end of the day, even if someone isn't reading along to your story, you're creating something that is satisfying some part of you. It could easily be something that you wish to read yourself, but can not find it in any medium (even outside of the Sims community) and so there's no where else to turn… except to yourself.

----------

Question: How do I find plots for my stories?

Reality / Dreams

Reality: Everyone has access to this. Whether it's lively, depressing, or somewhere between -- reality is reality.

Dreams: Sometimes you just remember your dreams and even if you can't remember the entire thing, there's something that sticks out to you that makes you remember it long after the dream. It could be something about their physical features, something you might have remembered they said, or even the colors within your dreams.

Sims Jobs / Hobbies

Are your sims working a job that aligns with their greatest passions/hobbies or are they just working to pay their bills? It doesn't matter either way, but sometimes just knowing this small thing is enough to get you to think of what they would do in their spare time and who they would do them with. Would they become members in a club? Would they share their hobbies with their family members? Would they have any enemies that could possibly lead to competition?

Spend Time With Your Sims

I don't mean in CAS. I mean literally turn your game on and put them on Free Will -- and watch them. See what object they interact with first or which Sim in their household they interact with first. See how they respond to Sims that randomly knock on their door (welcome wagon and all that jazz). Notice their experiences -- what makes them happy, what bothers them, what makes them angry. Also take notice to their speech bubbles.

Send them out into the world. Have them interact with other Sims or just place them on a public/community lot and see who they start talking to first. From there -- take notice to the speech bubbles from both your Sim and the Sim they're talking to. Take notice to your Sims mood while in conversation (or even while they're alone).

Movies and TV -- Or Books

This one hits extremely close to my longest and on-going story because that's exactly where the main character came from -- a movie.

So much of my stories stem from some favorite character of mine or some favorite actor/actress of mine that play such and such a character in something from a million years ago or to the present day -- and everything literally in-between.

My thought when leaving them behind at the movies or after watching them in a movie at home is… how can I flesh this character out? How can I give them a better personality or extend their personality? How can I imagine what their lives are like outside of the worlds they were created in?

And there is how the story builds. One thing literally leads to another.

Consistency

If you write somewhere in a chapter that your Sim is crazy about grilled cheese sandwiches -- then that Sim is crazy about grilled cheese sandwiches. The only way they'll stop being in love with grilled cheese sandwiches is if they suddenly had something happen in their lives to make them change their opinions about it. Like they've aged up and gained the lactose intolerant trait. Now -- dairy will make your Sim terribly sick.

Remembering these little things makes your Sims differ from one another, but also allows you to flesh out their personalities and with doing that will open more opportunities.

This Sim may have loved cheese and not all dairy, but guess what? They can't have any dairy anymore. How are they going to survive? Well -- they'll have to change their lifestyle as far as what they choose to eat and with that will come the mental torment that they can't just go and eat cheese like they once used to be able to so now they're in a bad mood and they're terribly jealous of every Sim that can freely eat cheese as well as all the dairy they want…

And so they begin writing in their free time, to get all of their angry and saddened emotions down -- because it helps them with all of the mental stress.

And then they decide to publish their writings and suddenly -- the grill cheese loving Sim who wanted to open a Grill Cheese Shop is now an Award Winning Novelist instead.

Who will they meet along the way? Well -- they may very well fall in love with another Sim that may or may not be lactose intolerant. If they are they have a common ground and if they don't… there's going to be a lot of differences in food options between the two which will turn into food outings needing to be a place where there's both non-dairy and dairy items on the menu.

Make it make sense -- you know what I mean?

Consider Occult Plotlines/Characters

When it's occult stories the themes usually deal with magic and fantasy and what not so I literally just make up things out of nowhere and make them make sense because it's so easy to explain something in the name of magic or fantasy. I can add whatever I want to their lives and their houses and come up with reasons for it which then lead into storylines.

That witch down the street decided she didn't want to work a real job, so she used magic to make her dream house.

Seems like a quick-telling story, but if you start to think on it more you'll think about how she's maintaining her dream home. Clearly -- she's probably an entitled personality type and even lazy, but is she someone who wants to live alone in her dream house? Will she marry? Will she have caretakers to do the gardening and the cleaning… or will she just use magic to handle all of that because she rather be left all alone?

----------

Question: How do you screencap for your story?

I usually know the plot before I take the screencaps, but sometimes I don't. Usually when I don't I end up taking a lot of screencaps that end up going nowhere but being deleted or they end up just as quick edits that I randomly post on my blog because the moment where I had a storyline or a new chapter I let completely pass me by (or it came out of nowhere because I turned my game on to just gameplay and suddenly everything started unfolding whether a Sim prompted me to create more chapters or because I just had something rush to me out of a moment of total imagination).

Still -- I try to remember that I have the ability to use words to continue the story just because I may not have a screencap available -- and that's okay, too.

----------

Mods:

This will help if you start paying more attention to the speech bubbles I mentioned above and would like more of a variety.

Diverse Speech/Thought Bubbles: here (CurseForge | modder: Sims 4 Me/bienchen)

[actuallyjustabiscuit]

Ok I need someone to do me a favor. Can anyone give me a screenshot of Gooseworx showing which episodes are dedicated to each character. I saw it once in a post on here but I haven’t been able to find it since and it’s killing me. I have a point I wanna make about that specific post from Gooseworx but I refuse to get Twitter to look for it there.

[vamp1rate]

i love you schizophrenics. i love you schizoaffectives. i love you schizotypals. i love you everyone on the schizophrenia spectrum. i love you psychosis experiencers, i love you addicts, i love you sleep paralysis experiencers, i love you anyone whos had a bad trip, i love you current and past users of medications with hallucinatory side effects, i love you people with depression and/or anxiety with psychotic features, i love you experiencers of hypnagogic and/or hypnopompic hallucinations, i love you spoonies who have hallucinated from medical procedures/drugs administered during medical procedures, i love you sleep deprived students under too much stress, i love you people with a history of trauma, i love you anyone whos hallucinated while sick from high fevers and/or too much cough medicine, i love you people who hear things that aren't there, people who see things that aren't there, people who smell things that aren't there, people who taste things that aren't there, people who feel things that aren't there both inside their body and out, i love you people who experience one type of hallucination, i love you people who experience multiple types of hallucination, i love you people who used to hallucinate but don't anymore, i love you people who currently experience hallucinations, i love you people on medications for their hallucinations i love you people who aren't, i love you everyone and anyone who has ever hallucinated for any reason. thank you so much for your existence on this beautiful earth with me.

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

oh to have a patron god who unconditionally loves you to bits.....

//

[milkweedman]

I am sorry you've been harrassed by terfs, but the way you are currently trying to weed them out seems a bit misguided. As in, the vast majority of terfs are in fact ok with big hairy CIS men. The so-called men they are actively hating are trans women/transfem people. So by acting like you proclaiming your love to big hairy dudes is the best terf-repellant you seem to be missing the point at best.

i'd love to actually respond to your concerns or whatever the hell it was that you were trying to convey with this ask, but it has almost no basis in reality so i literally cant.

thats the one statement on how effective i think the banners are that has left my queue so far. which is: i hope it works but also have literally 2 other backup plans already in case it does not. i dont know why youre calling that "acting like [me] proclaiming [my] love to big hairy dudes is the best terf-repellant", because thats wildly off target from what i have actually said at any point. everything else youve said is also pretty much either dead wrong or ignorant, so im getting the feeling that you not reading has been a problem for a while.

(ive also not mentioned terfs this entire time--ive been talking about radfems and using the word radfems. they're not the same thing although there's large overlap. so like. thats strike two for zero reading comprehension, buddy. cause you are literally not talking about the group im talking about and youre also inventing whole new sentences that i didnt say.)

[kbwrites]

The Lord's Favorite CH.2

synopsis: "He was both a monstrous force of vengeance and your savior, intertwined in a tempest of passion and fury.."

prev ← → next

⚝content: trueform!Sukuna x fem! reader, slightly suggestive, mentions of blood and gore

⚝wc: 1.5k

⚝a/n: I'm still shocked this got as much attention as it did! Thank you for reading, I hope this next part pleases you.

“Please, do your best to remain still,” Uraume chides gently. They press the cotton swab soaked in alcohol to your face, the stinging sensation causing you to wince as it penetrates the cuts on your cheek. Uraume offers a sympathetic glance. “I apologize for this…”

“You don’t need to-“

“Please.” They say firmly “I was aware of the tension between the servants, I... never thought they would do something to harm one of their own.” Uraume’s voice wavers slightly. They move to the wounds on your arms.

The door to the chamber swings open, and Sukuna stands in the threshold, leaning one arm nonchalantly against the doorframe. He surveys your battered form sitting on the edge of the bed—a trace of annoyance etched on his face. Uraume rises swiftly to bow before the king, but he dismisses the gesture with a casual wave.

“My lord, I’ve treated her as best as I can.” Uraume reports.

Sukuna’s gaze shifts to your face, his demeanor cold yet betraying a hint of concern.

“Are you in any pain?”

“No.. my lord and I’m sorry-“

“You are not at fault.” He interrupts you, his voice firm as he strides over, his heavy footsteps echoing through the room. Clad in a black robe with a purple sash tied around the waist, his rippling muscles are visible through the cascading fabric. Uraume steps back, offering a brief bow before exiting, leaving you alone with him.

He scans your face with a piercing gaze, lowering himself to your level. His eyes drift to your empty wrist, narrowing with a mix of concern and intensity.

“Where. is it.” He demands. Your eyes widen as you realize the bracelet you were given today was missing.

“I… it must have fallen off when they attacked me” You piece together aloud. 

“So they would harm you as well as steal…” Ryomen’s voice grows taut with anger he clenches his fist, body tensing up. He rises from his kneeling position, figure looming over you.

“Are you able to stand?” He questions lowly. You nod.

“Good. We will be going now.”

You look up at your king, his expression is unreadable, but there’s an unmistakable intensity in his eyes—a silent promise of retribution. 

You lag behind him as he strides purposefully down the dimly lit  hallway. The evening light leaks through the dark red curtains of the hall, casting long shadows that dance along the walls. Each step of his echoes with a menacing authority. He stops abruptly at the entrance to the servants quarters. Sukuna looks over his shoulder at you, his gaze intense and unwavering.

“Do you wish to watch?” He inquires, voice low and steady.

“W…watch?” 

“Yes, do you wish to watch as I kill the ones who hurt you.”

“I—“ your heart races, Was this really happening? “No… my lord I do not.” You speak quietly. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t respond, opening the door to the room.

The servants look upon him in reverence… or fear. Ryomen Sukuna did not bother himself with his servants, so seeing him generally meant bad news. He scans the room at the trembling help who shrink under his scrutiny, ‘utterly pathetic..’ he thinks. Their eyes drift to you, standing behind him. Ryomen shoots you a sidelong glance, awaiting you to point out your offenders. 

You look up at him, conflicted. Do you really wish for them to die? He scoffs as if reading your mind.

“You would protect them, even after what they did to you?” He sneers.

 He directs his attention back to the line of servants, all bowing their heads in fear. His gaze lands on one woman, and he notices the bracelet on her wrist—identical to the one he had painstakingly crafted for you.

At the sight of the bracelet, his demeanor changes abruptly. His expression darkens with a fierce intensity. With a swift motion, two of his arms encircle you, gently but firmly covering your eyes.

“Do not open them, until the screaming stops.”

Screams of horror reverberate through the room. You hear slashes mingling with the sound of Sukuna chuckling darkly. All the while two of his arms remains protectively around you, shielding you from the brutality he’s inflicting upon the ones who dared to harm you.

The screaming fades, his breathing slows, upper left arm lowers from your eyes.

“It is done.” And as your eyes slowly open, the sight before you is gut-wrenching. Blood and carnage litter the servant’s chambers. You clasp your hand  over your mouth as you fight back a gag. 

Ryomen looks at you, a hint of annoyance for your lack of appreciation. You gaze upon his bloodied form, he was covered in it. He wipes face, turning his back on the lifeless bodies.

“Let’s go; I require a bath and new clothes.”

You sit on the edge of the porcelain tub, adding oils and dried petals. The act of bathing Lord Sukuna had become quite routine. And yet every time he entered the room your heart would skip a beat. He stood at over six feet tall, his four muscular arms and broad, chiseled chest commanding attention. The tattoos that adorned his toned body only added to his already imposing presence.

He strides confidently over to the bath, crimson eyes never leaving yours. The scent of lavender and roses wafting through the tiled room. He lowers himself into the water, groaning as the hot water enveloped his powerful frame.

You grab a sponge, wiping the dried blood from his chest. Ryomen leans his head back against the edge of the tub, sighing in relief under your touch. He’s quiet for a moment, only the sound of the water sloshing around echoes throughout the room. One eye opens slightly to observe you, your gentle hands erasing the evidence of his carnage. Massaging away his stress and tension. He speaks in a low, commanding voice.

“Join me.”

You abruptly cease your movements, looking at him in disbelief.

“You mean—“

“In the tub, yes.” You hesitate, glancing nervously between him and the water. Knowing it was not wise to disobey your king, you begin to shed your clothing, covering yourself modestly as you allow the bathwater to cloak you. You settle on the opposite side of the tub, his eyebrow quirks in mild annoyance.

“I will not harm you.” His voice almost… gentle.

You move closer to him. Albeit too slow for his taste, one arm pulls you towards his chest, settling on the small of your back. The unprecedented position of intimacy with your lord both thrilling and unsettling.

“Are you… unhappy with my actions today?”

"No… my lord." It was partly true. You were still reeling from the events that had transpired. The king to whom you had dutifully bowed had unleashed his fury... for you? The man you willingly served, had been so enraged by your injuries that he had taken the lives of those who wronged you. He was both a monstrous force of vengeance and your savior, intertwined in a tempest of passion and fury..

“Good.” Another hand reaches to stroke your hair, a touch so feather light you wondered if he thought you’d break. “I… do not wish for you to be unhappy.” He speaks softly. His finger traces your jawline. You shiver under his touch, but don’t pull away. If your heart were to beat any faster you feared it might give out altogether.  His hand trails down to your chest, placing his palm flat against the valley between your breasts.

“Your heart is racing…Are you frightened of me?” He questioned, feeling the rhythm quicken beneath his touch.

“F…frightened?” You try to keep your voice from shaking, but it betrays you quivering with uncertainty.

“It is understandable; I could kill you right now.” He grins as his words make your heart beat even faster. “I am merely stating a fact. Do not think of it.” His gaze travels from your face to your chest, lingering at the point where the water begins.

He stands up, water dripping down his body, your gaze travels down his abs to his v-line. He only grins as he sees your curious eyes widen at his lower half. It was quite hard not to look when he was so… big. The screams from his bedroom made sense after you were called to his bath the first time. 

“You are permitted to touch.” He declares, snapping your out of your daze, a shaky hand comes up to feel his abs. He groans softly under your nimble fingers, feeling his muscles tighten in response. He was a work of art, as if the gods themselves sculpted his figure.

You knew that after his bath, Lord Sukuna would typically summon one of his concubines to his chambers. This would inevitably result in several hours of indecorous moans and pained screams, audible through the door connecting your room to his. As his servant, you wanted to adhere to your place, but a part of you couldn't help but wonder... what it would be like to bask in your lord’s presence in such an intimate way.

“My lord, shall I summon someone to… attend to your needs?” 

He only chuckles darkly, one arm reaching down to gentle cup your face. His crimson eyes feasting upon your wet, naked form committing this scene to memory.

“No need,” He murmurs, his voice deep and resonant.

 “I believe your presence is precisely what I crave.”

taglist! (I know a lot a people in the previous post asked for a part two but idk if that meant you wanted to be tagged, lmk!) @haruchi-slit @gg-trini @pastelbunnelby @cauqhtz @shadava

[amalashuor]

In the beginning 💢💢 I apologize to all of you for not responding to the messages you sent to check on my family, but my family and I are evacuating from east of Deir al-Balah to the seashore because all places have now become dangerous. Please pray for us. I may never be online again

Dear friends 🤍 Tears of joy mixed with feelings of gratitude to everyone who stood by me, who gave their time and effort in order to reach the campaign’s financial goal of 30k euros, but due to the circumstances that Gaza is going through and the closure of all land crossings, I was not able to achieve the main goal of the campaign, which is to leave Gaza to Safe country Thanks and gratitude are due to: 1. The friends who pinned my story at the top of their page are amazing people.🌺🤍 2. The Ansar, each by name and title, are people of goodness and giving.🌺🤍 3.For those who put forward new ideas, the idea of ​​artistic paintings, marches, and bread sales are the unknown soldiers🌺🤍 4. These amazing activists who share daily updates are like a dynamo who never stops serving those in need.🌺🤍 5. Friends who sent the campaign link to their friends and families outside this application, those who carry humanity in their hearts.🌺🤍 @littlegermanboy @appsa @floofysmallbob @feluka @90-ghost @queerstudiesnatural @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @irhabiya @intersectionalpraxis @obscenity @sayruq @decolonize-solidarity @fancysmudges @heba-20 @jezior0 @commissions4aid-international @vivisection-gf I inform you that thanks to you, I was able to support my family from your donations and campaign revenues. Before we left Rafah, I didn't have enough money to leave Thanks to your donations, I was able to leave Rafah to Khan Yunis. What it cost me is as follows: Transportation: $400/600 Buy a tent for $500/$800 Land rent: $500/600 Building a very modest bathroom costs $200/300 Some incidental expenses are $300/500 Which means that I spent approximately $3,000 of the money of the group whose goal is to get out of Gaza to a safe country on transportation from Rafah to Khan Yunis. Then, on 27may2024 💔, the occupation army threw a bomb near our tent in Khan Yunis, which led to the burning of the tent, the mattress, and everything else. We fled without taking anything with us. I told my friend @littlegermanboy 🤍about this incident and we fled to Deir al-Balah because there was no empty place. We sat in the east of Deir al-Balah.

This escape cost us more than before because of the outrageous prices we are experiencing here. This is just an example to tell you that a liter of diesel costs 100 dollars. Which means that the cost of transportation to Deir al-Balah cost me as follows: 500$ transportation 500/700$ to buy a tent to replace the one that burned in Khanios 200/300$ to buy mattresses, blankets, pillows, and clothes for me and my daughter, Maryam But in Deir al-Balah, we did not rent land. We sat on government land for free 300/200$ to build a bathroom All these expenses detract from the funds of the campaign, whose goal is to escape from Gaza to a safe country Of course, there are basic expenses, which are buying food, drinks, milk, and Cerelac for my daughter Maryam. Certainly, these are from the campaign’s money because we do not have any other income other than this campaign.

Now the Israeli occupation army has told us to leave Deir al-Balah to the west, towards the sea The place I am in now is very dangerous, and if I decide to leave, it will cost me more than before, and this is not satisfactory. I spent the campaign’s money just to escape from one place to another.If the Rafah land crossing returns to work again, this means that the money we have is not enough to exit Gaza. For this reason, we will raise the campaign goal to 50k euros

I ask you, my friends, for increased financial and psychological support, because because of you, I am able to continue despite everything that is happening to me I thank you and everyone who contributed and helped to continue my life. If it were not for you, I would not have been able to save my family from health, psychological and nutritional deterioration. I thank everyone who gave me anything because everything here helps My friends who stood by my side, I shower you with hugs and love you so much.❤️😭 Moving towards the second goal to sustain my life and the life of my little family: 50k euros

These are my friends' articles. I thank you 🤍🤍

[berryfairyluvr]

hihi I loved the zayne princess treatment post could you do a sylus one as well please 🥹💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝

sylus and his princess (queen) treatment

pairings: bf!sylus x fem!reader

warnings: none really, maybe minor mentions of some memories

a/n: thank you for the love and the request xx hope you enjoy <3

With a high bounty on his head Sylus has many enemies. Now having you as his beloved partner in this dangerous life (and all the ones before and after) your life has taken priority over his own. Despite your stubborn tendencies, he always has eyes on you ensuring your safety.

He not so slyly suggests you stay at his place 99% of the time as an answer to any of your complaints claiming he has 'this and that' but really it’s to keep you close by.

You insist on waiting up for him after his many late night outings much to his opposition. The lamps dim lighting catching his eye through the window each time he returns to find you cutely tucked into yourself sound asleep on the plush couch. He’d chuckle quietly and scoop you into his arms carrying you bridal style down the dark hallways to the bedroom.

You often complained about the coldness of his marble flooring even in socks. He’s made sure to have his staff keep you slippers in your most visited rooms ever since.

You thought his shower was huge before? He had it expanded and added multiple shower heads. When you asked why, he responded with “Time is of the essence, now we can save it by showering together sweetie.”

He loves to accommodate you, adding a vanity to his bedroom, his and hers closet, shared armory access personalized just to your liking… The list goes on.

He’s discreetly possessive with his touches but it’s usually masked by his powerful demeanor. For instance, when the two of you are out he’s often guiding you on his arm or with his large hand splayed on the small of your back. At meals and meetings his hand finds its way to rest on your thigh.

He will not stand for any sign of disrespect towards you, those who haven’t learned that are met with something violently unpleasant. (Most times completely unbeknownst to you— Sylus makes sure you’re occupied)

You yap and he listens. Earnestly. And I mean undivided and devoted attention. He is so very fond of the way you light up like a child when speaking about your life.

His attention to detail is remarkable and he shows that in your everyday life. Whether it’s picking up on your favorite scent or noting what things make you relax more than others, he provides you with them as much as possible.

That travel magazine you’d been reading hadn’t gone unnoticed and to your surprise, he’d arranged for the two of you to escape reality and venture out for a vacation.

This man can compliment, and he can compliment goooood. He has no issue expressing his gratitude and respect for you through his words and oh boy is he good with his words.

Seeing you scared or fearful wounded him enough the first few times that it now melts him into a puddle at the first sign of worry from you.

this is his *please don’t be worried/upset* look

He doesn’t mind one bit helping you bathe and dress after a long day of work. He even brushes your hair.

Your words mean everything to him, he wants to hear it. (He praises you for it in return 🤭)

For all the excursions you often clung to him like a backpack atop his bike— he decided a spare motorcycle helmet just wouldn’t do for you anymore and had one made to match his.

His date at any and every auction, he revels in getting to flaunt you around all dolled up and on his arm. Some even say his demeanor changed since you began attending these events with him..

read zayne’s version here

requests open ❤︎

[maddybthorne]

I want a BBC Merlin fanfic where Hunith visits Camelot as a surprise. Merlin doesn't know she's coming, only Gaius knows that she plans to visit. This is set in a time period where all the knights are alive (I'm looking at you Lancelot.) and Arthur is Prince, but running the Kingdom as Uther is unwell.

Hunith pulls up to Camelot and is walking towards the Castle through the citadel, burdened by her bags, when a cheerful voice rings out. "Do you need any help, miss?" It's one of the many Castle servants.

Hunith explains that she is heading to the Castle to visit her son who works there, the servant then offers to carry her bags.

"Oh I don't want to be a bother." Hunith replies

"It's no bother at all! Really, I was heading that way already." The servant insists and they both make their way to the castle, "What's your son's name by the way, I might know him if he works here."

"His name is Merlin." Hunith responds with a smile. The servant stops walking and looks at her. It's not only him that stops at this announcement.

"Y-you're Merlin's Mother?!?" A nearby servant who had been close enough to hear the conversation says in awe.

The courtyard that they're walking through gradually fills with hushed whispers as the news spreads. Everyone knows of Merlin. The Prince's manservant who had managed to not quit in the first week of serving him. Merlin, who changed the Prince from a spoiled brat into a good man whom the Kingdom was proud of and eagerly awaited the day he would be crowned King. Merlin, who had followed the Prince into battle time and time again to save Camelot.

I want a fanfiction where The Entire Of Camelot loves Merlin and is thankful for his role in making Arthur a good person. Where not only the Knights, but the Castle staff meet his mother and collectively decide that she is That Woman and treat her with Respect. Where they treat her like Royalty.

Ofc Gwaine loves her. That's his best friend's mom. Hunith looks at all the knights and adopts them on the Spot.

And Merlin is either really confused by this behavior or knows and just lets it happen.

Arthur has no idea what's going on or why but he treats her with reverence and love because that's his future Mother in Law and he's very much starved for parental affection which she gives him (and the knights) in spades.

But yes, I just want a fic of people meeting Hunith and being like "Thank you for giving birth to your son. I'd die for you both" and her being like "...please don't."

(Bonus if Leon meets her and is just like. "How did you survive being around that little shit (Merlin) for so long?" And she just laughs and gives him advice, which makes him cry because he's just so tired. #LetLeonRest2024 I will push this agenda till I die)

[kamitv]

Thinking about Choso who…

Loves any and all sorts of attention from you, even when you’re upset with him.

He’d love the way you frown at him or how your brows tense, finding you nothing more than cute— especially if you’re shorter than him, that just makes it even more amusing to him.

And if you happen to be taller than he’s lowkey ready to get down on his knees and apologize by putting his head in between your legs, even if you’re the one in the wrong.

Enjoys being seen out in public with you.

PDA is probably one of his favorite things, especially when he notices someone looking at you too long.

There’d be a time where a little boy or girl compliments you and suddenly he’s jealous even though it’s just a harmless child that’s admiring you.

If you had an ex that won’t leave you alone, would make it his mission to send him (consented) videos of you cumming on his cock.

Nine times out of ten, you’re on top of him, riding him til’ his eyes are to the back of his skull and he can’t stop himself from groaning. Asking you things like, “You’ ever ride your ex this fuckin’ good?” To which you’d respond with a quiet whine of no.

And next he’s got you bent over for him, hips snapping forward into you, heavy balls smacking against you with his ever thrust, and thick cock filling you up perfectly. All as he’s still mocking your ex, “He never fucked you this good, huh?” “Probably not, right?” “Oh shit, you can’t talk too well, can ya’?” “That feel good baby? Hm? Go ahead ‘nd tell the camera who’s fuckin’ you to tears.”

Loves showering you in compliments.

“You look so pretty in that, kinda like a princess.”

“I love your eyes, never stop lookin’ at me please.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“I’m the luckiest man in the world, aren’t I?”

“You’re so cute, baby.”

Could get off on your smell alone.

It’s perverted, yes, but sometimes he gets really needy for you. He’d shove his face into your pillow, smelling a mixture of your perfume and last used soap and using that to get off— fisting his cock desperately as each whiff of your scent makes his thoughts blur together and his body twitch.

Would do anything you ask of him.

He doesn’t care what it is, as soon as you have that requesting tone in your voice, the word yes is rolling off of his tongue without second thought.

Who’s not the richest man in the world but works hard just to spoil you.

Choso loves giving you gifts. The way your eyes light up and a beautiful smile plasters across your face, it makes his heart throb in desire and he can’t help but have the urge to give you more and more.

He’d give you the world if he could.

Shuts you up by telling you to get down on your knees.

He doesn’t get mad at you often but when the argument gets to a certain point and he can tell you’re being a brat on purpose, he’s punishing you by fucking your throat.

His cock would be stretching your throat open too, filling your mouth up with cum after a few minutes because he still can’t always last too long with you— you’re still as pretty as ever on your knees with tears running down your face and a mouth full of his cock, the sight makes him fold every time and suddenly he can’t even remember what he was upset with you for.

Apologies to you by drowning in between your legs for hours.

Literal hours too. He doesn’t care if you told him you forgive him a thousand times already, once he’s down there it’s hard for him to get up. His jaw could lock while he’s nose deep into your pussy and he wouldn’t care, your taste is too addicting.

Then there’s the way you moan and whine out his name, begging him to give you a break— yet it only makes him more eager to get you off. Even if you squirt on his face, he won’t care, if anything he’s begging you to do it again. Groaning a simple, “Gimme another one, princess. Please?”

Blushes when you compliment him.

He’s not used to it so whenever you call him handsome, his ears are turning red and he’s mumbling out a cute thank you in response.

You once praised him and called him a good boy and he moaned, begging you to call him that again and again. It made his cock so unbelievably hard that he was aroused for practically the rest of the night.

Another time you said you were proud of him and he started showering you in kisses and telling you that he’s only doing good because he has you.

Brags & yaps about you whenever you’re the topic of conversation.

The second your name is said by someone nearby, his mouth is on auto-response. He’ll tell people how hard working snd perfect you are, how he doesn’t really deserve you but he’s so happy to have you as his lover.

Calls you specific pet names.

Baby, princess, love— they all slip out of his mouth before he even realizes he’s saying it.

If you told him you liked being called “mama, mamas, or ma” he’d settle on calling you ma.

Sometimes he just calls you his. His girlfriend, his partner, his wife. His anything and or everything.

In the rare case that he’s degrading you because you’ve asked him to— he’s calling you a slut. His slut, a dirty slut, pretty slut, his good slut, doesn’t matter.

Loves you more than he loves himself.

He’d cherish you like no other. Every kiss from his is filled with love and every time his eyes meet your face, his pupils dilate.

A/N: In honor of my lover Choso. Please come home, the kids miss you baby. :( Gege Akutami when I get my goddamn hands on you its a wrap.