#i'll probably post the drabble later...

[zmzebra-art]

hundred line prologue spoilers . . .

[mushroompollution]

Part 1: Bargaining

Finally, the day of negotiations had come.

Leo had suggested meeting in Reim Lunettes' office, an offer which had been met with surprise. This was an unofficial conversation, without the knowledge or approval of Pandora's other directors. Leo and his compatriots wouldn't be able to stroll right in through the front door and halls of the organization.

And they wouldn't need to. Leo still had the coordinates saved from the tea party and his attempts to snoop around for any information on Humpty Dumpty so long ago.

And so, at the appointed time, Leo appears in a flash and a burst of black feathers, a dramatic touch meant to mislead the reality of his teleporting trick. With him are Vincent, Echo, and Lottie, who had asked to come along after revealing her previous interactions with the Mad Hatter.

Waiting for them are Sharon, Break, Oz, Alice, and Gilbert. Elliot had been excluded, with Break declaring him too biased and too emotional, and Leo concerned for his safety.

As expected, the Baskervilles immediately find themselves caught inside a magic binding circle drawn upon the floor. "no hard feelings, it's an understandable precaution," Leo chirps. Not that it would matter. Though the circle froze their feet in place and prevented them from using their Chains, it couldn't account for the otherworldly technology in Leo's pocket should they need to escape.

Despite the unwelcome greeting, their meeting goes well.... For the most part.

Break admits for the first time what the Will of the Abyss's wish actually was: to be destroyed. Both parties begin to realize their goals are in alliance.

So why are they enemies?

They agree to work together, instead of fighting each other. No one quite notices the way Vincent's eyes narrow at Break in disgust.

The Sealing Stone is a matter of contention, however. Leo's desire for peace and clearing his clan's name come off earnest enough. But when pressed about the Baskervilles' mission, their reluctant leader has few answers.

How do you plan to actually kill the Will of the Abyss?

Or even reach her chambers, at the very bottom of the Abyss?

Was the Tragedy a consequence of the previous Glen's attempts to do the same?

Will it happen again?

Are his intentions as pure as his vessel's?

Questions all met with one common answer,

"i won't know until the Stone is broken and i can ask him plainly."

"do we have to ask him?" Oz wonders. "between all of us, we should be able to do it on our own, right?"

"If the Tragedy was caused by his last attempt, then he'll probably know how to prevent it from happening again," Lottie argues. "Don't you feel like something is coming? Like we don't have time to waste with trial and error and experiments, when we could just consult him instead?"

Leo tries to assure them he believes he'll retain his own personality. But he can't promise it. And for Break and Oz, that seems to be an issue. Leo spills his theories that the Tragedy wasn't the vicious plot the lone survivor had described.

"that's why we need to break the Stone and learn the truth from the memories of the so-called mastermind himself," Leo presses.

"But those are just theories," Break maintains.

"And why would Jack lie?" Oz asks.

"but that means putting the world in danger if you're wrong," Oz argues. "besides, Jack promised to show me the truth himself. even if I... really don't want to see that ever again......"

"and i'm offering to witness those atrocities myself in order to understand them," Leo asserts, those starry eyes fixed on the blond with an intense stare.

The debate draws on and on, both sides making their points. Finally, Break calls them all to silence just as tensions seem to flare.

Whether they break the Stone or not can be settled in their next meeting. After all, they still need to decide what to do about Pandora.

As important as he is, Break is not the sole voice of the organization. Their mission would go against all of Pandora's goals. It's why he had kept the truth from even Sharon and Reim for so long, worried he would be killed if his true intentions got out.

That said, with all this new information, he's confident he and Sharon can sway Duchess Rainsworth. "But that Idiot Hair Barma is a wild card." Leo and Vincent share a glance at that. Oz easily offers to convince his uncle.

But they won't likely be able to overrule Pandora's directors without a completely unanimous vote from the Dukedoms.

And Vanessa... "well, she's never really liked me," Leo admits. "if i can bring Elliot in, he might be able to change her mind, but i know she still blames me for everything that happened."

It's a start, at least. Break and Sharon agree to meet the Duchess as soon as possible. She'll know what to do, whether to proceed on their own or handle things through proper channels.

They can meet again tomorrow to decide the next step.

In the meantime, however, their conference is adjourned, and everyone begins to go their separate ways.

Break and Sharon stay behind inside the office to discuss. Leo sends Lottie to the others lurking nearby, then he and Vincent meet Oz and his friends outside the organization's headquarters. It's been so long since Leo's seen any of them. Maybe they can meet Elliot and get some lunch. As friends, not just enemies under ceasefire.

Gilbert and Vincent walk on ahead, speaking casually for the first time in what must be years. Gilbert apologizes for assuming the worst about his brother. Though the words turn his stomach, Vincent just smiles and assures him, "I did it for you though, brother.♡"

Alice runs off in the direction of a nearby food truck, following the smell of delicious meat.

Oz hangs back with him as Leo takes a moment to text Elliot.

"it's nice to think we might actually be able to resolve things without fighting for once," Oz remarks.

Leo smiles in agreement. "see, i told the others i wouldn't have to kill you," he giggles playfully. Oz's laugh isn't quite as comfortable. "i want to believe things are going to be okay. that even after i'm fully Glen, we'll still be able to work together. i don't want any more suffering, for any of us."

"yeah. I'd like that too," Oz agrees. A brief, content silence falls between them as Leo taps a message on his phone. A crisp, late winter breeze blows through the plaza, grey clouds rolling in overhead.

And then Oz offers a handshake.

Leo smiles, reaching out to return the gesture.

But their hands never meet.

There's the sound of metal as a sharpened chain flies through the air from the shadows.

A sickening burst of blood.

And suddenly, everything falls apart.

[sisterdivinium]

They all seemed intimidated — not Jillian. The subject matter made her uneasy, not the interlocutor.

“I hope you won’t be offended,” she began, going so far as offering a charming smile to disarm Mother Superion, “but I did imagine nuns to be a bit more… Discreet. The pink stands out considerably.”

The nun looked at her then at the pink van in question.

“You’d be surprised, doctor.”

Jillian heard the hint of a smirk more than witnessed it and in that moment she knew the others were wise to fear Superion — while she, now enticed, did nothing of the sort.

[iforgetcanon]

A Night in the Hospital Wing

It had been several hours before the hospital was finally quiet again. Gryffindors had been rushing in and out of the wing all day since the accident out on the quidditch pitch, trying to catch a glimpse of Sirius themselves.

The rumor that had spread, no doubt by James for a laugh, had been that Sirius had landed face down on the pitch, permanently disfiguring his face. The morbid curiously which had plagued their housemates had Madame Pomfrey shooing students out of her way for the better part of seven hours.

Hermione had spent those seven hours on her own hospital cot, several cots away from Sirius.

She heard about the accident as soon as she woke up that afternoon. Remus had been sitting on the chair near her cot, reading a book on mermaids. As soon as she cracked an eye open, Remus spoke.

"Don't worry," he said, never looking up from his book.

"About what," she asked, closing her eye and pretending to still be asleep; it was a game they had played for the last two years.

"Sirius fell off his broom at the game this morning. Took a budger to his ribs," Remus explained, turning a page. "He's alive. There's a pesky rumor regarding his handsome face."

Swallowing down her brief panic, Hermione answered simply. "I always knew you found him handsome."

Ignoring her, the werewolf continued. "He's unconscious, still, but everyone and their grandmother is dying to have a peak at the tragic disfigurement of The Heir Black's face."

Hermione snorted. She, James, Remus and Peter were the only ones besides Reggie who knew Sirius had been disowned by the Black family. She heard Remus chuckled, too.

"Of course, I haven't seen the extent of the damage myself. Either Poppy or James bandaged his face up pretty good, and to be frank, I'm frightened to ask who really did it," he snickered.

She opened her eyes and looked over at her friend who was still reading. She knew James sent him to her to warn her about Sirius's accident, save her from the shock while she was supposed to be recovering.

With the fuss about Sirius, Madame Pomfrey hadn't the time to keep Remus out of Hermione's cubicle: her life's mission for the past week had been keeping all four of those boys away from the recovering witch.

So when the noise all stopped and visiting hours had concluded for an hour or two, Hermione mustered her strength to stand and slowly pad her way toward the cot at the far end of the wing.

She had to grasp the railing poles of each cubicle to keep herself upright, as the pain in her calf had not subsided during the lengthy healing process. Her vision clouded with each step, the searing white-hot pain in her head returning as she pulled herself nearer to Sirius.

She was finally able to pull herself to his cot-side and she fell into the chair at his side. She couldn't look at him, though, instead she rested her head on the side of his bed, catching her breath and blinking the vision back into her eyes.

She startled, however, as a palm lightly descended atop the curls at the back of her head.

"You shouldn't have gotten up to come see me, pet," came Sirius's groggy voice. "I was just about to come to you, and now I know Poppy's going to kill me."

Hermione could only huff out a chuckle. Sirius swore and pushed himself up to a sitting position, wincing quietly, hoping not to give away the immensity of his own pain.

"You didn't come see me," Hermiome finally said, still bent over, leaning her forehead on the cot and counting the cracks in the tile grout of the floor. "All week, I didn't see you at all."

"I tried, pet. You have no idea how hard I tried," he pleaded. "Poppy wouldn't let me near the wing at all, I swear she put wards up around it, I couldn't even make it all the way up the stairs."

"But Remus and James," she started, but Sirius chuckled darkly.

"Oh, she'd talk to them. Give them updates and tell them to pass me the message. But you have to know how every day I tried to come see you. Wild horses couldn't have stopped me."

Hermione snorted, lifting her head finally to see his own heavily bandaged face. It was a wonder he could even see who he was talking to, as the bandages wrapped around both his eyes and his left ear. Her mind briefly conjured up the image of another boy; red-haired and smirking while a bandage covered what was left of his own left ear. She shook her head to dissolve the image. That would never be, now.

She grinned, "but one little Poppy Pomfrey could keep you away." Sirius grimaced.

"She's a force, that matron. We outsmarted her in the end, though," he grinned, stopping to cough slightly as his hand flew to his ribs. "Told James to go bloody soft on that bludger, though. Bloody prick."

Hermione gasped in realization. "Sirius Black, you did not throw the game," she exclaimed. "That's illegal!"

"Calm down, pet. It's not like I had money on it. It's the only way I could think to get myself in here to see you."

"You could have died," she argued. He grinned.

"Cushioning charms. Besides, it's not like we stood a chance for the cup this year, anyway. Too much going on, wouldn't you say?"

It was true. Half the Gryffindor team had been in and out of the hospital wing all year with mysterious injuries they all refused to explain. All the teachers were besides themselves with worry when it all began. The worry quickly became agitation and finally Professor McGonagall threatened anyone with another unexplained injury with a month's worth of detention.

Detention seemed to keep the first stringers off the pitch for a better part of the year.

Hermione was touched by all the help she received from her classmates. She knew they'd all been rallied by Sirius and James, but none of them asked questions. They carried out their missions and reported back to James or Sirius who reported back to Hermione. In only one year and a half, the older half of Gryffindor had managed to find and destroy all of Voldemort's Horcruxes.

Some of them may have been a little too bewitched by the use of fiendfyre, and accidentally led a band of Death Eaters and Tom Riddle himself back to the Castle, which was how Hermione was hurt to begin with.

"Still, you shouldn't have done it," she said lately.

"Here, help me take these off," he whispered, feeling around his bandages for a loose end to peel at.

"Sirius, stop it, let yourself heal," she ordered. He ignored her.

"Bloody Prongs tied them up too tight," he complained, finally finding a spot to tear at. Hermione sucked in a sharp breath as the whole thing fell apart and landed on his lap.

"There you are," he exclaimed, grin splitting his face despite the heavy bruising she could see along his cheeks and jaws. "See, love, no harm. James fixed the broken nose before we ever made it up the stairs. Still as bloody handsome as ever."

Hermione glared at him. "I wasn't worried about your face, you moron," she said. "Besides, I was hoping you really had smashed it in, good and proper, to deflate that bloody head of yours."

"You love it," he teased before his smile fell away from his face, replaced by an awkward grimace. Hermiome's cheeks were aflame and she glanced around the hospital wing trying to find anywhere but on him for her eyes to land. "Erm…"

Hermione swallowed thickly and the silence lingered in the suddenly dense air between them.

She'd had a suspicion as to why Madame Pomfrey wouldn't allow Sirius near the hospital wing. He was reckless. He was passionate. He was an emotional wreck when those he loved were hurt.

She'd seen it before she came back in time - before his death. She saw an older Sirius jump into battle to keep his Godson out of harm's way and lose his life for it.

She'd seen him break into a muggles house just to talk to Harry when he found out he'd been chosen as a Hogwarts champion. She witnessed an emaciated man, withered and weakened by 12 years in Azkaban, be the first to singlehandedly escape the prison to take his revenge on the man who betrayed his closest friends.

She heard of his maniacal laughter as he was arrested for Pettigrew's murder, and the 12 muggles. She knew he never could have been framed if he hadn't left rationality at the door and chased after the traitor to kill him.

And since she'd been here, Sirius had violently torn past Madame Pomfrey when Regulus was nearly killed. He'd blasted his way into the wing the night Remus had been attacked by the travelling highland pack, and he'd all but pushed the poor matron to the ground in his hurry to ensure Lily Evans wasn't seriously injured after the great Slytherin Altercation of Spring '77.

Of course the Matron had taken the precautions she had when Hermione Granger had faced off with Lord Voldemort in the Transfiguration Court Yard.

Everybody with eyes, other than the two in question and a few wishful groupies, were well aware that Sirius Black was so in love with Hermione Granger that he couldn't see straight. Everyone knew Hermione was just as in love with him, but too focused on her mission to acknowledge it.

"Well this is right bloody stupid," Sirius spat at himself, rolling his eyes and budging off to the side of the cot. He grabbed Hermiome and pulled her up with him, mindful of the leg James had told him was recovering from a deep dark curse.

Begrudgingly, Hermione situated herself beside the boy she had been fighting her feelings for. He didn't seem to want to fight as hard as her, and it was annoying.

"I'm fucking angry at you, pet," Sirius whispered against her curls, voice gravelly, as he wrapped his arm tightly around Hermione's waist, somehow still mindful of her injuries. "You were stupid and stubborn and we could have fucking lost you."

On pure instinct, Hermiome wrapped her fingers around the digits that were dogging into her stomach, relishing in his hot breath tickling her forehead as he held her to him.

"I know," she whispered, screwing her eyes shut. "But it had to be me. I told you why."

"You could have waited. I was on my way, I could have helped you," he pleaded, hot breath still tickling her head. "You didn't need to do it alone."

"I didn't do it alone. You helped. You all helped," she said. "For the past two years, you and James and Remus and Peter and half of Gryffindor all helped. I couldn't have done what I did without you."

She couldn't tell if the sound that came from Sirius's throat was a weird chuckle or a choked sob, but he held her tighter.

"We thought you were dead."

"It'll take more than Voldemort to kill me," she laughed, trying to lighten the darkness of his mood. He didn't laugh.

"Did you even think about us, Hermione," he asked. "Did it even occur to you what would happen to James and Remus if they lost you? What would happen to me?"

"Everything I've done has been for you three," she protested into his shoulder. "Of course I was thinking about you!"

"No, Hermione. You were thinking about yourself and your future. You were thinking about James's kid and your dead friends," he started, quickly placating her. "And that's okay, there's nothing wrong with that, but you weren't really thinking about us. About me."

"Sirius," Hermione said, gently pulling away from his chest and glancing up at his face, screwed up in pain she knew had nothing to do with his broken ribs or bruises. "I-," she struggled to put the right words together. "At first, all I could think about was Harry. I had the ability to change it all to spare Harry the life he had in my time. I had the opportunity to let him grow up with his parents, without the weight of the world on his conscience."

She took a deep steadying breath, lacing her fingers into his, again. "There were so many people I cared about that were dealt shit cards because of this war - because of this one dark wizard - utterly ruined lives. When I thought, when it occurred to me that I could change it, I jumped at the opportunity. Give Harry a better childhood. Save James and Lily. Save Peter. Stop Remus's descent into reclusivity and self-pity. Save you from all the time that was stolen from you by an unjust judicial system. Save you from the grief of losing all your friends and all your youth, and losing time with your godson."

"When I got here, the possibility of a better future for all of you was all I could think of. I never, in a million years, thought any of you would befriend me, let alone care enough to do what you've all done to help me do what I did."

Sirius searched her face, taking note of the single tear clinging to her bottom lash.

"You didn't think we'd all fall in love with you?"

Her breath hitched, and glanced away, focusing instead on his fingers- his thumbs- which had started tracing patterns on her inner wrists.

"You came stumbling into our common room, determined to keep to yourself. You were talented, powerful, determined and absolutely gorgeous," he chuckled. "And then you were kind and patient and rational and stubborn and you told us off when we deserved it. You're our Wendy."

"Of course," he said roughly, his voice breaking, betraying the emotion he'd tried to keep hidden: fear. "Of fucking course we're going to care enough to not want you killed. What you didn't think about was the impact your presence has had, here," he muttered, taking her hand and placing on his chest, where she could feel the hammering of his heart.

"I get it was unintentional, Pet. But you've wormed your way in here and I cannot let you go," he cried, dropping his head onto her shoulder. "If you had died, Hermione, I don't know what I would have done."

They sat, silently holding each other for what felt like hours. Hermione knew her friendship with the marauders was an unexpected part of her mission. She did try to stay away from them, not wanting to impact their futures outside of saving their lives.

The closer she became with them, the less she could deny how easily their bonds had formed. It was almost as though it was fate, like she had always been a piece of the puzzle in their four souls.

Like Hermione herself had been the missing piece; without her in their lives, they all just went to shit. With her, everybody got to live, to be happy.

She fought that feeling. It scared her. She had no idea what the implications were. What did it mean for her? If she came back in time and took her place among her lost boys, what did that mean for her? She never thought she'd go back to her own time; she would be a stranger in time, unaware of the life she supposedly led up to that point. Honestly, she always assumed her confrontation with Voldemort would kill her.

That had been why she was so adamant to keep the boys away from the encounter; she couldn't risk them barging in to her rescue just for them end up killed in her stead. That would nullified all of her efforts.

But she had survived. Voldemort was dead. Aurors were working around the clock to capture the scurrying Death Eaters. She'd saved the future. She'd changed everything. And she was still alive. She didn't know what to do with this outcome.

She knew what she wanted to do, but it felt wrong to ask the universe for something so selfish; she'd already asked the universe for so much she felt she didn't deserve what she wanted.

She wanted love and family and friends. She wanted to live the rest of her life in peace. She wanted…

She wanted the arms currently wrapped around her waist to stay there forever. She wanted the wet slate gray eyes crying out into her shoulder to dry and look into her face every morning and every night and several time in-between.

She wanted the fingers gripping her hand to grip her hand daily, to swing them between their bodies as they walked forward into the future. She wanted to run her fingers through his silky black hair for the rest of that future.

She didn't know how she managed it, or why, and she fought it tooth and nail, but she knew these past two years led her straight to the cliff's edge of falling irrevocably in love with Sirius Black. She toppled over the ledge and struggled to grasp onto anything that could pull her back over. But every joke, every teasing word, every late night spent talking pulled her farther in. Every hug, every brush of hands, every excited grin and wink on top of his fierce determination to help, the way he threw himself into tracking down horcruxes with his fellow quidditch players; the way he cried as he opened up about Walburga and Orion, the utter infectious joy on his face when Reggie came back to him - safe and willing to mend their relationship. The way he had gotten her to confide in him and the way they had grown so close and open with one another. She was unmistakably his, and for the last few months, in all but actual words spoken, he was hers.

And she wanted to keep him. She wanted him and the life he never got to live for himself and she wanted to live it with him, by his side.

Whether or not this was the time to say so, she didn't know. However, Hermione found herself unable to take the silence, so she said the first thing that came to mind.

"I'm pretty bloody pissed at you, too, Sirius Black," she ground out against his shoulder. "Who the he'll do you think you are, asking James to hit you with a bludger!"

Sirius was still for a moment before she felt the tremors of his laughter. Slowly, he lifted his head from her shoulder and threw it back against the pillow with a barking laugh.

"I'm not laughing, Sirius."

"Merlim, pet. I did it for you."

"I have never once asked to nearly get yourself killed for me," she huffed. Sirius leveled her with a rather pointed look. "Oh," she muttered, cheeks reddening. "It's different."

Sirius sighed, pulling her down on the cot with him, gently pushing her riotous curls away from her face and resting his palm on her cheek.

"Rest with me, pet. Here like this, I can see you're okay, you can see I'm okay and we'll be okay together."

"But Madame Pomfrey-,"

"Poppy can get stuffed," Sirius said, in what Hermione thought was the most disparaging tone she'd ever heard Sirius take against the Matron. She chuckled. "Bloody woman thought she could keep me away from my girl."

Hermione's breath caught again. He stilled and looked down affectionately.

"You are, aren't you," he asked almost reverently. "My girl?"

His gray eyes were boring into hers, pleading for a response. Hermione's lips curled into a timid smile, grasping his hospital gown with her fingers.

"Forever."

[catboii]

.

[miyaz6ki]

i might let you make me juno ✰

synopsis. literally the title, each are just small drabbles though :)! 1 kink i think they would have, as well as something they'd dislike(?), idrk what I'll put since I make these before I write 😭

the blade has spoken. i forgot to post yesterday :sob: rb for pt 2 ORR FOR MORE OF MY SUPER DUPER SICK CONTENT!!

pairings. albedo, alhaitham, capitano, childe, wriothesley, diluc, neuvillette

warnings. NSFW, mdni please!! sex :pensive:, although some are fluffier than others!, lwk hatefucking in alhaitham's (academic rivals to lovers), corruption kink (capitano's), vision play w diluc (not rly my main point), cockwarming,

albedo, who already has you placed right in front of him, legs spread as he kneels before you. although he glanced at the beauty in front of him, his eyes would tell a million words, the ones he couldn't speak. in general, whatever you were into, so was he.

the alchemist, delving his tongue into real delicacy for the first time, had himself on a chokehold, every now and then gazing back up to the figure he loved the most, pleasured by what he was doing. fuck he loved you so much. the taste had him hypnotized, he could probably do this forever.

every minute that passed, he felt himself falling in love over and over again. holding your thighs closer to the sides of his face, he could feel how much pleasure he gave.

alhaitham, who has you pinned to the wall, your chest pressed up against the surface. he held both your wrists in one of his hands, and the other on the left side of your waist. rocking his hips into yours, archons he was so fucking in love with the way you clenched against his member.

as much as he hates you, or says he does, it's really the opposite. he's never met anyone who could get him as mad as he is right now, not anyone could piss him off. he loved it so damn much.

he loved watching your eyes roll back in pleasure, no one else could get him boiling, but no one could ever be this deep inside you like he does, right? he better be. or he'll spend the next nights trying to prove himself right to you. so at least for once he'll win.

capitano loved to absolutely break you. corrupt you. he wanted to make sure you were indefinitely all his. and no one else's. he loved seeing those cute little tears of yours roll down your cheeks, whining about how you can't take it when both of you know you can!

you're all his, right? hopefully, and rightfully so, because no one as big as him would ever please your little hole now. but he supposes that something should make up for the pain you feel whenever he enters, it should be the pleasure, and somewhat comfort he can attempt to give.

so he lets you pick whatever position you wanted, and honestly, his favorite while letting you choose was whatever position he could see you the most in. especially when it includes your pretty little face. he wants to see how good he makes you feel <3

he always has his hands on you it feels so dirty. but childe has no excuse for himself, his only purpose is to make sure others know how to fuck off from what's only supposed to be his, it's not your fault, nor his, but he just has the indefinite need to show you off. whether it'd be how the marks all over your collarbone would be the prettiest!

he knows it hurts, but for now, just endure it, and he'll make sure to take care of it later. he makes sure to kiss it all away anyway, no matter how deep inside he might be, you're his reason to fight, his reason to live and come back home for another day with you.

oh well, he dreams of starting a nice little family with you. coming home to you and your two.. maybe three children? you'll both figure it out later. after he finishes inside you, his rough hands, which bruised your hips with small, little crescents ingrained into your skin. oh he's already planning the names!

wriothesley is generally turned on by any position he could see you in. similarly to capitano, but the thing is... he much prefers seeing how his cock imprints itself in your stomach.

sure your expressions are pretty cute, but nothing better than seeing you throw your head back, trying to ride his big member when you know you need help from him! all you have to do is say please...

if you didn't, he'd simply watch the show. watch you trying to take him all at once, and only hurting yourself more by trying to take what you can't (without his assistance). and in which he simply.. takes control himself, and helps you slowly sink onto his shaft instead. of course whole holding your hand!

diluc who uses his vision to his advantage, his hands already over your chest, as the temperature of his palm rises slowly, while letting you cockwarm him.

whether it's while he's writing, and signing away paperwork for the wine business, and his other hand over one of your nipples, or if all his attention is focused on you, watching how you react with a VIP seat, which would be taken literally as you sat on his dick.

a teasing touch from one of his fingers would rub against the spot where his cock was snug inside you, infused with a bit of warmth with the help of his vision.

neuvillette who's instincts get to him, as he watches your reaction through the pristine, crystal mirror in front of you both. it was a gift from his daughter figure—furina.

dear archons, please do forgive him for using her gift in such a.. filthy way, but nothing gets him going like seeing you stare at yourself be pleasured so well by none other than himself. his head fitting in the crook of your neck as he only turns himself on more, only reaching even deeper with his shaft inside you.

and wow he couldn't even wait for the main course tonight, for someone who's very knowledgeable on the taste of water from every region—he much preferred whatever substances you could make.

[applecrispy]

Oct. 2 ; Begging

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Male! Reader x Finnick Odair (The Hunger Games)

HEADS UP!

Second Kinktober prompt, set! Enjoy this drabble

Ended up being a bit sweeter and not too 'begging' as the prompt said, but hey! There's always another chance to re-write this after kinktober!

Also, ignore the fact I haven't posted day one yet ajdhkcjks I'll probably post it later since I'm a tad stuck on it.

And how out of practice I am in writing- but I swear, all my thirsts will (hopefully) get better overtime!

▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂

Finnick moans, his hands claw at the kitchen counter top as his boyfriend pounds into him from behind. He aches a bit, but god it's amazing and worth it all.

He had teased (Y/n) earlier today, he was in the mood, and seems like (Y/n) was as well after having Finnick drop to his knees and suck him off from under their dinning table. He wouldn't admit it straight up, but Finnick has been itching for his lover's touch since a few days ago when (Y/n) had returned from his trip to District 13 to check in. The kiss they shared at the station, Finnick liked it a bit too much, maybe he missed (Y/n)'s lips against his, the gentle touch on his sides, how he didn’t push him-

"(Y/n)- baby, fuck!" Finnick chokes out, another moan leaving him.

His chest felt cold from being pressed against their marble counter, but (Y/n) simply continued to piston into him. A hand gently holding his thigh up to the side, granting him a new angle, and Finnick felt his legs shake, and at some point he's pinned to the counter. He can barely keep himself up on the floor, and (Y/n) seems to notice because Finnick yelps briefly as he's flipped over and he's now with his back to the counter, staring up at (Y/n) as he hikes his legs up. Now presented with a canvas, Finnick reaches up and wraps his arms around his boyfriend's back, moaning as he tries to bite the noises back by biting his bottom lip.

His hair is disheveled, messy, and not in the usual styled and seductive manner that his ex-stylists used to fix it into, but rather into something raw and honest. His fingers draw down (Y/n)'s back as he shudders and soon sputters on a noise and breath.

"Another- inside, please-" Finnick begs quietly, he doesn’t care how he aches faintly from the past three orgasms he's already had which have stolen all the air from him, he needs another load inside of him. One more.

(Y/n) smiles slightly, both love and pure unadulterated adoration, and he leans down to groan into Finnick's ear "You want another inside? And here I was thinking of pulling out and finishing all over your thighs instead... why so desperate?" He teases, and Finnick scoffs as much as he can before he breaks into a choppy whimper mixed with a moan "I- Oh right there... There! Nail right there!" He can't help but purr out, and when (Y/n)'s thrusts slow and intentionally miss, Finnick is digging his face involuntarily into (Y/n)'s neck "Please- please please... So good, please, inside. Another, right... right tHE-" his words are cut off and hit a high as he throws his head back, and if it weren't for the gentle hand on the back fo his head that stops the movement by catching his head and curling a hand into his hair, Finnick would've slammed his head open. But he's too lost to properly adore the action, instead he only lets out a heavy, and noisey high pitched moan.

(Y/n) had shifted his thrusts, and was now thoroughly fucking into him, right into his prostate as he had asked, and the tease just chuckles breathily.

"There?"

"Yes... Yes! Please inside, inside." His last few words mold into messy shapes and noises, still coherent in a sense, but debaunched with his ecstasy. He lets out another softer whimper, and Finnick swears this man is the only one who has been able to reduce him to these honest words, begs, and noises. He's a mess, but shit it's so nice.

It doesn't take too much longer, and (Y/n) gives a small tug to Finnick's hair, reeling his mind back to quickly ask for honest confirmation "Inside?" And Finnick can't help how he begs.

"YES! Inside, inside, please- please (Y/n), need it. Please, need to feel it, feel you-" and Finnick is cut off with a yelp and moan as his hips are grabbed and he's pulled down to be plush against (Y/n)'s hips. He shudders as a weak orgasm leaves him, untouched, oversensitive, and the feeling of being filled and pumped with a orgasm once more in him, Finnick lets the fingers he hadn’t noticed that dug down (Y/n)'s back fall lax.

He lets his expression drop, content as he bathes in the after glow, breathing in heavily as he lets out weak little noises. He gently holds onto (Y/n) as his partner seems just as breathless as he is, pulling back to smile down at him as Finnick feels his heart briefly flutter at how he looks at him.

"Seems like you've missed me." And Finnick groans in complaint and jokingly tries to shove (Y/n) away with a little tired grin on his own face "Oh piss off!" He scoffs out a playful laugh despite how breathless it sounds, quickly diving in to kiss (Y/n) once more in something sweeter.

Yeah, he had missed him.

[withleeknow]

how he would take care of you during shark week. ⤷ chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin

pairing: jisung x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, mentions of periods bc duhhh erhm note: ok so i'm REALLY not sure what this is lmao but i switched up entirely compared to the first installation (with minho) and i think this is the format i'll be sticking with for the rest of the members. i'm still just experimenting and trying to figure how i want to approach doing drabbles/drabble series like this so pls bear with me a little for now lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi

jisung, who can't be trusted with even the simplest of tasks. you should've known better. (and honestly? you did know better, which probably makes the whole thing so much worse.)

jisung, whom you ask to run to the store just because you were too lazy to brave the evening chill yourself and get the shit you need.

jisung, who texts you what size pussy u wear? while he stands in the middle of the aisle, feeling like he's illiterate as he's surrounded by products of different colors and shapes and sizes and wings.

jisung, whose eyes catch a specific pink packaging with pretty flowers that makes him pull out his phone and snap you a picture. this one looks better. yours is boring, he'd text you, to which you'd replied with a dozen question marks before calling him an idiot and telling him to leave the fancy pads and hurry home with the ones you usually use.

jisung, who returns about thirty minutes later holding two large bags in his hands, which definitely contain a lot more than what you had sent him out for - just a pack of overnight pads and some sweets.

jisung, who kisses you in greeting as your eyes narrow suspiciously, then he'd proudly show off the goodies that you didn't need - an assortment of sour candies and chocolates, chips, ice cream bars, your favorite cookies, and lastly, a random purple pouch.

jisung, whose love language looks a lot like making you get diabetes whenever your time of the month rolls around.

jisung, who beams like a kid in a candy store when you ask him about the pouch with a brow raised. "look!" he'd beam, holding the little thing up like it's the most magical invention he's ever come across in his entire life. "it holds your pads! and it has unicorns on it!"

jisung, who doesn't deflate at all when you tell him that you already have one, but instead, he'd tell you to ditch the one you have because it's too "boring" (re: it doesn't have unicorns.)

jisung, who volunteers to carry the pouch for you the next time you go out together, musing to himself about whether or not he should add a little strap so he could wear it like a crossbody bag, not even batting an eye when you stare at him and gape in disbelief.

jisung, who really uses your shark week as an excuse to buy dumb shit for himself and stuff you full of treats.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 25.04.2024]

[justporo]

Even more fluffy relationship headcanons for Astarion and Tav

Listen guys, I'm not done yet. For now, as soon as I get one idea out, three more pop up in my mind and since you guys seem to really like these (it's seriously and positively insane to me), I'll happily provide you more as long as I am able to. So, let's-a go: more headcanons and little ideas about them being together!

(I formerly used an reuploaded and stolen version of this gif here - I didn't check where it came from and that wasn't right - I'm sorry!)

You love when Astarion smiles at you - just openly and full of joy; the sort of smile you've rarely seen from him during your adventures but they keep getting more and more, also they make him look just so young and carefree and beautiful and your heart just... melts

When Astarion quickly notices how you basically faint whenever he does this, he starts employing it to work his charms on you when he needs it - not the real big and joyous smiles though because they are so real and cherished to him he wouldn't dare use it to tease or manipulate you - they're only reserved to make you happy

Charming you is like breathing to Astarion though, you are just so helpless against his flattery and flirting because why would you resist if you could just give him everything that makes him happy?

When you mention once though that you'd hope to gain some immunity to it some time, Astarion is insulted: "No, love, making you blush is my favourite thing in the world. You are so beautiful with your cheeks all flushed. As long as I have a say in it, we will never stop!"

Tav likes teasing him just as much as Astarion enjoys it the other the way around: "You know if you would stop drawing your brows together all the time, it'd take fifty years off your face immediately." Moments of silence in which Astarion is just utterly shocked by your burn, then: "Who taught you to be this brutal, darling?" You raise an eyebrow at him, he helplessly lifts his arms: "Yeah right, I have only myself to blame."

Also, Astarion and Tav are definitely the kind of power couple that throw each other meaningful sassy looks when they're with other people and those are talking shit or something

Also, afterwards they will most definitely discuss and gossip over everything they experienced

Astarion is definitely the kind of man that would shower Tav with gifts, from coming home with a single beautiful flower that "reminded me of you, my beautiful blossom" ("How cheesy..." "Ah, so rather a gouda next time?") or a nice bottle of wine to share to bigger gestures like jewelry or expensive dresses ("When am I ever gonna wear this, Astarion?" "I don't know, we'll just make an opportunity!")

Tav loves all of his gifts but probably the small ones or the hand-crafted ones the most, she's happy with the little things but Astarion insists she deserves the big ones just as much

One time though, Astarion comes home with something else entirely; it's pouring outside and he's completely drenched and hiding something in his doublet jacket; "What do you have there, Astarion, a wheel of cheese?" Astarion carefully opens up his jacket to reveal a small white kitten that is just as drenched as him and is desperately trying to cling to the vampire's chest. "I found her all alone in a dark alleyway, cold and completely soaked, I thought maybe we could take care of her and she could be friends with Scratch?", he says while he carefully lifts up the small ball of fluff with an incredible softness in his eyes. Your heart is thoroughly melting as you walk over to them and you give Astarion the most loving of kisses

Well, the last one would almost be a drabble on it's own, I saw a similar post that made me think of this (I will find and tag them later!) Hope you enjoyed and I'm late for work now, whoops...

This is the post I mentioned before, by @mushy6902 (I hope it's okay I wrote a somewhat similar idea, thanks for inspiring me!)

[ariadnes-elixirs]

oh? you're finally awake, my love~

(male yandere x gn kidnapped!reader)

t/w: kidnapping and themes of imprisonment

as you woke up, all you could feel was your head pounding. it took what was probably several minutes for you to even realize you weren't even in your own home.

you were sitting on a soft bed, but not under the covers or laying down. you felt your back pressing up against what felt like a headboard.

with your head still pounding, you tried to move your arms from your sides only to feel a sensation of something tugging at your wrists. despite your weary state, it occurred to you that your wrists were tied to the headboard with a silky fabric tied in a knot you couldn't wriggle out of.

then you heard the creak of a door opening and a blurry figure walked in. there was an audible gasp as he entered the room and presumably saw that you were awake, regardless of the fact that you were barely conscious.

"oh? you're finally awake, my love~"

you tried to blink the sleep from your eyes to get a better look at the figure as he kept talking.

"i'm so sorry about the restraints, i tried to pick the softest usable fabric so they wouldn't hurt"

as your blurry vision started coming into focus, you saw a man sitting near the right side of the bed leaning towards you. his hair was short yet fluffy and a striking shade of grey with some black roots that had started growing out.

he reaches his hand out to brush your face and gently smiles at you, way more gentle than a potential kidnapper should be smiling at his victim.

"i..." he caresses your face as he looks you in the eyes, still smiling, "i just want to keep you safe," he paused, "i couldn't stand to see you getting treated so poorly and constantly putting yourself in danger."

it was at this moment you realized that your pounding headache had mostly subsided, and you couldn't help but ask, "where... where am i?"

"oh? we're in my house!" he answers both enthusiastically while somehow keeping a lower volume. he continues speaking as he sees your look of confusion, "i'll answer all of your questions in time, my love, but right now you should probably eat something."

he gets up languidly before leaving the room. he leaves the door open as he exits and you try to get a good look at the area past the door.

not even 30 seconds later, he walks back in holding a plate of food. he returns to his position, sitting on edge of the bed's right side and holds the plate out in front of him.

"oh, don't worry about eating with your wrists tied! for now i'll just feed you myself!" he says, "oh... i know it must be uncomfortable, i'm truly sorry about that, but eventually i do plan on untying you once i can trust you not to run away."

"i just want you to be safe, and the safest place you could be is with me, in my-" he corrects himself, "our shared home."

"now open wide~"

a/n: short drabble, i hope to return to my normal posting schedule soon but i'll probably only be able to do short posts like this and requests

[vrystalius]

Braiding hair.

Your and Mitsuri's morning routines are now basically in sync. How did this happen?

Pairing: Mitsuri Kanroji x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, comfort

Mitsuri absolutely loves spending her evenings and mornings with you. Not only can she spend some meanignful time with you, but you can be domestic together. Almost like she doesn't go out every morning to put herself through gruelling training just to not return for the night and instead go out to hunt demons- not that she doesn't like doing her job and helping people, she misses going home to you and instead feel a little normal. Like nothing can ever come between you.

So, Mitsuri spends every night with you like it is her last. She cooks delicious dishes for you to share, talk about everything and also nothing at the same time, complaning about little things and sharing gossip you two overheard from the other hashira, slayers and villagers. You help her unwind and unbraid every strand of hair of hers and brush through it over and over until it was finally untangled, before she returns the favour with treating you with her top-notch and top-secret array of hair products she has been collecting over the past few months.

But after eating one after another dessert and almost saying hello again to the mochi you really should've known not to eat after noticing how full you actually are, you two almost always end up in the hot tub before bed. Your girlfriend adores fussing over you and insisting that she should take care of you.

"Come here! Closer. Even closer. Closeeeer. I know a really good massage, I swear I'll be gentle! Pretty please?" Mitsuri gestures you to come closer unil you are positioned between her legs and her hands work wonders against muscles in your back you didn't even know existed, while Mitsuri rambled about that one time where she was in the onsen in the swordsmith village or something. To be honest, you weren't really paying attention, you were a litle distracted by the soft hands brushing over your skin and Mitsuri pressing up against you.

In the night, you can never fully let go of her while you two slept. Your head resting against her chest or hers on yours while your mind runs in circes about how you even managed to get a girlfriend like her. Meanwhile, Mitsur's mind is thinking the exact same thing.

How could a person like you lover her as much as she does, how you can keep up with her energy and tolerate everything about her. It's not really a secret that she is insecure about herself and about how she acts and behaves, but you never belittled her or even eyed her judgementally. Quite the opposite, really, and even thinking about it for too long and how you are seemingly her soulmate, as she is yours, fat tears gather on the edge of her eyes and you can ell that she is trying not to whimper too loudly (she is failing).

In the morning, the same events from last evening replay. Mitsuri cooks breakfast and you help her get ready to head out, meaning you busy yourself with braiding her beautiful hair into her signature braids and acsessorice it with cute pins or bows you had gifted her, while she slips into her uniform and prepares her blade for training and the day ahead.

Mitsuri never leaves without repaying you for helping her; smothering hugs and plenty of kisses all over your face before she takes a single step out of the door. She cups your cheeks and lightly squishes them together, taking some time to properly admire your face before kissing you one last time on the lips.

"I promise I'll be back later. I love you!" You can tell Mitsuri has to mentally wreste herself to finally step off your porch and head of to train or/and go out on a mission.

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading.

Counting down to my birthday (the 23rd), I’ll try to post one pride-month story drabble with probably most KNY characters to try to get back into writing— I haven’t written for Misturi in so long and to be honest, I’m a little shy about writing wlw 😭 Trying to get out of my comfort zone tho!!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

[sl-ut]

Wait a sequel to the drunk reader partying fic drabble thing where abbys trying to get you to drink water and you're refusing and arguing with her in your drunk state insisting you're fine LMAOOO (you're not)

party girl

pairing: college!abby anderson x fem!reader

description: the cheer team won nationals, and they’re ready to party. only problem is, there’s a team-only pregame, which means abby can’t keep track of how much her girlfriend has to drink.

warnings: alcohol consumption, reader is VERY drunk in this, some creepy men (ew always), making out, femme reader, cursing, i was sorta rlly high when i wrote this sorry excuse any badness

words: 1.2K

date posted: 06/04/24

more college!abby

it's quite rare for abby to go to a party without her girlfriend. in fact, abby typically only goes as a formality, but she likes when her girl makes an effort to come with her. unfortunately for her, the cheer team decided that they would be having a squad-only pregame, which meant that abby would be wrapped into driving her drunk friends around before (and probably after) the party. at least she was getting a pretty steady stream of snaps from her girl throughout the night, but as soon as she starts getting the ones from nora, she gets worried.

they're all videos of y/n shotgunning, funneling, and demolishing lines of shots in record time. normally, she wasn't very possessive over her girlfriend, but she knew from their very early relationship that y/n could not handle her liquor, so she knew she was in for quite the treat when she got there.

but she could not have imagined what she was about to see the moment she walked into the crowded house. it took her a moment to truly realise what kind of spectacle could have caused every frat guy in a mile radius to flock together so wildly, until she realised that her girlfriend was swaying to the music atop the kitchen table, her skirt hiked up over the meat of her thighs and she didn't even seem to be aware of it.

abby quickly pushed her way through the crowd of boys, roughly shoving one of the ones at the front who had been attempting to angle his phone to get a proper up-skirt shot. y/n's eyes popped open at the sound of her name, an excited grin appearing on her face as she all but leaped off of the table and into her arms (thank god for all those muscles).

she laughed as her girlfriend practically wrapped herself around her, pressing sloppy kisses against the side of her face.

"heyyyy baby," y/n smiled drunkenly up at her, "i've been waiting for you."

"seems like it," abby laughed, "you having fun?"

"more now that you're here," she leaned up to kiss her, and abby almost gagged at the taste of every alcohol she could name on her tongue. "we won today."

"i know, i was there. you were so so so good, beautiful."

"mhm," y/n smiled, "i love winning. i feel like such a winner right now."

abby was the first person to understand the feeling, it was the exact same rush of confidence she felt in her own veins after her own games. she had been excited to take to the stands this time around, watching and cheering for her girlfriend in the same way that she had always done for her.

"you are a winner, baby."

she fluttered her eyelashes at her, "and i can't wait for you to give me my reward later."

"reward?" abby asked, feigning innocence.

"oh please, i know you could tell what i was wearing under here," she pursed her lips, fingers tugging at her dark red bra strap, "if you aren't gonna give me my reward, i guess i'll have to take it for myself."

abby shook in head in disbelief, "you're gonna have to sober up some if that's what you were wanting."

y/n leaned in to tug abby's reddening earlobe between her teeth, "no matter how sober i get, i'll still be drunk on you baby."

"oh, that one was bad," abby tilted her head back as she laughed, one hand coming down to grasp at her girlfriend's lower back, "you're cheesy when you're drunk."

"what, are you lactose in tolerant all the sudden? maybe i'll have to find someone who likes my cheese."

abby gripped her hips, "okay, okay, i'm sorry. you know i love your cheese."

"i know," y/n grinned, "you can make it up to me by dancing with me."

abby nodded, "that i can do."

she allowed her girlfriend to lead her into the crowd of sweaty bodies, easily pressing herself into her back and holding her hips as she moved her hips into hers. she was happy enough to just sway side to side, let her girl do all of the heavy work as she ground her ass into her groin with one arm slung back and around abby's neck, holding on for dear life as the blonde began pressing kisses along the side of her throat.

y/n's body tipped to the side the a hard push, both of their attentions being turned to the tall brunette who scowled down at y/n with a mean stare.

"watch it, bitch."

abby doesn't even remember moving, just taking hold of the front of the girl's shirt in her fist, pulling her close and breathing her own warning into her face. y/n watched in amusement as the brunette shrunk at the threat and moved as quickly through the crowd as possible. y/n laughed with glee, hugging her girlfriend tightly.

"you are so so so sexy when you get protective over me."

abby took her by the hand, pushing her ahead and guiding her by her hips to the kitchen, where they were quickly recruited to join nora and manny in a game of beer pong. abby reassured her girlfriend by promising to grab her a new drink (it was just a coke), and snickering behind her hand at how oblivious her girlfriend was to her scheming. once the cup was empty, abby changed her tactic to offering her girlfriend shot after shot of water under the guise of vodka, laughing to herself when her girlfriend commented on how drunk she must be if it wasn't burning her throat so badly.

after winning the game, y/n decided that it was time to sneak away with her girlfriend to the bathroom, where she made quick work of her top as she made a rather sloppy seduction attempt. abby had to use every ounce of her self control to push her hands away as y/n tried to unbuckle her belt.

"c'mon baby," abby groaned as she felt her hot tongue drag across her collar bone, the first few buttons of her shirt having been undone the moment that the door had been shut behind her, "cut that out."

"what? you don't want me?" she whined.

"i do, believe me i do," she groaned, taking her hands in her own and forcing her to look at her, "but not here, and not while you're this drunk."

y/n groaned, "sometimes i hate how good of a person you are."

abby chuckled and kissed her on the cheek, "i know, i know, me too. now let's get some water into you because i do plan on giving you that reward tonight."

[hananet11]

Please - A 'When the Phone Rings' fic

Baek Sa Eon basically begging Hong Hui Joo to pay him some attention.

See my previous post about how I sorta want Baek Sa Eon to think Hui Joo is actually on the phone to her lover (maybe seonbae) so we can see him go crazy that someone else got to hear her voice before he did.

I can't help it, here's a drabble more than a fic, more wishful thinking than possibility. I'll chuck it on AO3 and link it on my masterlist as well though it's nothing to what other people have been producing so far.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sa Eon's fingers twitched around his phone. His grip on Hong Hui Joo's shawl tightened as he took in the scene in front of him. Her, precarious and swaying on a bench near the balcony, far from safe. The voice, so recently in his ear, now silent after his rebuke. Her, always her, eyes red and tears fresh, lower lip trembling.

Worst of all, her delicate hand holding a phone, one he didn't recognise (a secret phone?) to her ear. Her mouth. Her voice.

A voice he had never heard until earlier that day, that she had never used with him, that was forced out of her by fear, surely. Here she was, on the phone, speaking. Speaking to someone she didn't want him to know about. A secret phone, a secret call, fresh tears.

His thumb pressed the end call button at the same moment as he took another step towards her. Hong Hui Joo stayed frozen on the bench, watching him approach with a mix of desperation and terror in her eyes. His stride lengthened.

Fear was interesting. She probably didn't realise that in this moment, he was surely the more terrified one. Fear had been crawling over his skin since the moment he saw that picture of her thigh. Had seeped into his bones when he was sent a picture of her precious college seonbae. Fear had its gentle fingers cradling his heart since he met the man, witnessed her smile at him.

It was a different fear than the rage the kidnapper induced in him. That bastard was a psycho, some loser that would be found, dealt with, and out of their lives. He felt sick with fear to think of Hong Hui Joo crying, hurt, or scared for her life. But it wasn't this shameful, jealous fear that burned through him as he walked towards his wife.

His wife. If she had some bastard on that phone that was trying to convince her a divorce was possible, trying to take her away from him, take his wife-

He swallowed and snatched the phone from her hand, snapped it closed, shoved it in his pocket. Her shawl went on the bench, his now empty hands around her waist, clenching hard as he lifted her up and back down, savouring the slide of her body against his and he placed her on her feet.

"You can speak." His voice caught on the first word, cracking like some child. His brow furrowed. His hands, still on her waist, squeezed.

The fear was still there, plain as day in her eyes, taunting him with their sorrow and pain. She stayed silent. Of course she did, it was him that she hid from, he was learning more and more. All these years, he thought he understood her, had learnt her, had felt, selfishly, that he held a corner of her soul within his chest.

Instead, he was realising that what he had thought was an understanding between them was, in fact, a glass wall. All the appearances of normality, but in the end, he couldn't touch her, reach her. Hear her.

Sa Eon's brows twitched again at the thought. No, he was touching her now, she wasn't separated from him by anything, and anything (anyone) that tried to do so? Well, he'd focus on those bastards later, for now-

"Who was on the phone? Your seonbae? He's made you cry after all you said about how good of a person he is?" He winced. "No, wait, just tell me... I saw the video of you in the car. You were on the phone just then; I know you can speak."

Her tears continued down her cheeks, her eyes were wide. Hong Hui Joo had never struggled to let him know exactly what she was thinking. Every raise of her brow, crinkle around her mouth usually told him how frustrating she found him, that she was annoyed, exasperated, or expectant. Now she stared at him in shock, the fear present but dissipating, her lips pouting in confusion, her brows raising, eyes narrowing.

"Please... please let me hear you." His eyes closed and he indulged himself, leaning down, resting his forehead against hers. "Anything. Anything at all. Just let me hear you as well before I find whoever you were just talking to."

His wife jerked in his hands, chin lifting as she leant back, hands coming to his shoulders, probably to push him away. He held on tighter, squeezed his eyes further shut and begged.

"Please. I beg you." She stilled once more in his hold, hands softening and sliding slowly down to his chest. Her breath hitched, her ribs raising beneath his hands, the fabric of her dress catching on his ring.

He had always known that she was his weakness, had admitted as such in front of her only recently. He had thought that she could be used against him easily, but he hadn't realised that the one with the most power over him was actually her. Sa Eon was weak to her. Her whims, her demands, her opinion. Her presence. Begging didn't seem so pathetic when it was Hong Hui Joo.

Hong Hui Joo drew in a shuddering breath, hiccupping over the remnants of tears and upset. Another breath, two more. He dipped his chin, face inches from hers, opened his eyes, begged with them.

"Baek Se Eon."

His whole body shuddered as he felt his name, carried on her breath, against his lips. Her voice was deeper than he had imagined, than it was in the throes of panic. It was stronger, more mature.

He wanted to hear it more.

"Again. Please, again." He trailed his face alongside hers, pulled her closer, rested the bridge of his nose against the crook of her neck. "My name, say my name again, please."

Moments passed, he breathed her in, her hands had been forced back to his shoulders, his neck. His hands slid down her hips, took fistfuls of the looser fabric of her skirt. He took a step forward, backed her into the bench, slid to his knees in front of her.

"Please." It came out broken, shallow, distracted as he drew the sides of her dress up before pulling her down to sit on the edge of the bench. She went easily, eyes now dry and wide and dark. Her hands, which had previously trembled upon his chest, were sure of themselves, resting comfortably on his shoulders, awaiting his next move.

Hong Hui Joo watched him as he kneeled between her thighs, slowly drawing her skirts up and up, repeating the actions that had burned between them so recently. Her dress reached her mid-thigh when her eyes widened, and she realised what he was doing. By then it was too late, and Sa Eon lowered his head to her leg and, spotting the mole that had been tormenting him every minute since he learnt of its existence, he looked up briefly at Hui Joo, breathed a single word, and then kissed the skin next to it with a force designed to bruise.

"Please."

He moved onto the next patch of pale skin, kissed it gently, bit down, sucked a mark into it. A sound escaped Hong Hui Joo above him. He glanced up at her moan, saw her dark eyes and red cheeks.

He saw her lick her lips, and he bit down harder.

"Ah! Baek Sa Eon!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay yeah, so don't know what this is, but here we go. Hopefully someone enjoys it, wants more and writes their own so I can read it. Pleaseeeeee.

Thank you to @vamosleomessi who replied to my earlier post and seemed as desperate for this premise to be explored as I was.

[luckyartdrawer]

100 Follower Milestone Poll! 🎉🎉🎉

Heya lovelies!!! This blog hit 100 followers oh my goodness!!!

I really can't believe it, it's so awesome to see you all here! <333 Whether you're new or old around here it doesn't matter, I am electronically hugging and/or patting all of your heads in great thanks! ✨💖✨💖✨💖✨

To celebrate, I have some options in a poll for y'all to choose what you would like to see for this milestone! I HIGHLY suggest reading the explanations of each option below the break! It clarifies some important details. Its down there so any of y'all just scrolling by won't have to worry about a wall of text! <3

Please feel free to vote even if you aren't following me!!!

Poll Options explanations:

Drop early chapters of EYED / Dreamlike: This is a Moon-centric x reader fic I've been working on for several months now and I originally planned to start posting it when I finished it or got really close to doing so. I dropped a sneak peek of it here! I find myself currently on a standstill on it's later chapters, which is why it hasn't been finished yet, but otherwise I am reallllly happy with it's messaging and pacing. (Rn I have plotted out 15 chapters but it's looking like it could be longer with how I write oops-)

The first chapters have been pretty polished at this point, so if people are really curious about this one, I don't mind to start posting the chapters up to a certain point. If this wins, I'll post the first 3 chapters for 3 sequential days, then 4 and 5 will come out in the next week, and then the last week I'll post ch. 6 for no particular reason mhmm yup I am not planning anything nefarious-

Drawing requests: This would be my first time doing something like this, and while I know I can pop out some bangers for y'all I also don't want to dig myself into a hole and leave y'all waiting for a long time. 😅So if this wins, I'll take the first 10 requests and draw them out! If I feel capable of doing more I may open some more slots for y'all, but I need to test my speed and my capabilities here first. Expect some lovely rendering bc I love it so, but I won't be doing backgrounds (besides simple colors) for the sake of my sanity.

Drabble requests: Most of ya here probably see me as only an artist, but I do write and actually started out as a writer first for this fandom hehe. ✨ I've been doing well recently with short stories so as long as y'all want em, I can hopefully dish em out at a reasonable pace! I, again, haven't done something like this before. So if this wins, I'll take the first 10 requests, but I feel more confident that I can do this at a reasonable pace, so if things go well I'll open up 5-10 more slots for y'all!

Rendered drawing of a dca AU: Hehe, my forte /J. I've drawn some whacky crossovers, cute sillays, and horror stuff at times, but some of y'all also know I love soooo many AUs in this fandom, hehe! I definitely do not mind drawing AUs, there are MANY I haven't drawn for, but I will be avoiding drawing other's specific AUs. I love making fanart, but this is going to thank y'all for being here, so I would like to keep from using someone else's AU -- it would feel like I'm stealing them e3e.

Plus, this is from me to thank you! And so will the goobers! I'll try to be as detailed as possible with both the characters and location <3

If this wins, I'll set up another poll to last for 3 days. It'll have some general au options like Mer, then I'll list out some crossovers I have done like Submas! Sun/Moon, and I'll add my own AUs! There will also be an option to suggest an AU/crossover! (Please don't be afraid to do so, as long as enough people have an interest in the option, or even if it doesn't win I may still make it if I really like the suggestion! <333)

Rendered drawing of Biblical dca: This means the drawing will be as realistic to the original as I can get it! Gonna do my best to do material rendering and all mwehehe! Though, I may make him extra polished/shiny to not only play with reflections, but to also say how sparkly y'all make me feel hehe ✨✨✨

If this wins, I'll try to finish the drawing within a week or 2 after I make the announcement of the poll's winner! I'll also throw out a really quick poll for 1 day to let y'all pick who will be our biblical goober: Sun, Moon, or Ruin Eclipse!

Something else: This is pretty self explanatory, but if you have ideas, comment below! (You can even if you didn't pick this option!!!) And if you see an idea you like or that you wanted to comment already said below, please reply to that person's comment to keep things easy to track! You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, just drop something simple like ✨ in it and I'll know that means ya voted for it. :) (I'll be checking to make sure people didn't vote on the same comment more than once! But you can vote for multiple ideas <3)

If this wins/has enough interest, I'll choose the most popular suggestion! Depending on what suggestion wins, I may actually do BOTH that suggestion and the winning/2nd place option on the poll!!!! ( Woah 2 for one what :O )

My choice 💥💥💥: I typically don't like making choices actually, but in the case y'all are indecisive I will step up ✨✨✨ If this wins, I'll likely choose whatever sounds best to me in that moment hehehe, you'll never be 100% sure what I'll do >:)

Moon's bald and we love him for it: Oh yeah we do! <3 This is just a joke option to let people who don't want to vote to see the results. If this wins... Uh... We'll go for the 2nd place vote! And also I'll add a bald Moon doodle as a bonus goodie. (I'm so good at making incentives to get people to vote, I know I know ✨✨✨)

Thanks again for all the love guys!!! This fandom has been so good to me and I cannot thank y'all enough for making it as awesome and welcoming as it has been! <333

[blanketfort-motel]

Cas unintentionally Pavlov-Affecting Dean with subtle grace-healing. This became longer than intended.

I've noticed a good amount of fanart with Dean smoking a cigarette, so the train of thought goes: "God he already drinks so much he doesn't need that-- Then again Cas is probably healing him subtly every chance he gets because he so desperately wants Dean to live a long, happy life if he ever gets the chance. He wants Dean to die old, content, and with his brother at his side, even if Cas can't be for whatever possible reason." -- So...

Does Dean notice the subtle healing? Cas doesn't necessarily need to touch him to heal him, so if he's patient/discreet, maybe Dean wouldn't immediately make the connection of him feeling a little better (minor, MINOR chills and then comfortable warmth) to possibly having something to do with Cas being in the room, let alone him using angel mojo on him without flinching. He just feels better when Cas is around, he can't/doesn't/won't explain it to himself or anyone besides Cas until much later in the series. Maybe even in Heaven. Most likely in Heaven. One day they're all domestic, sat on a bench overlooking a beach, and Dean realizes that Cas's entire angelic form--though resembling his earthly vessel, at the moment, for the sake of Dean's sanity--is radiating that exact feeling of hidden grace on earth. Dean has to ask Castiel, cause he really can't tell where his feeling begin and where the grace ends. They had to talk about it cause Dean was questioning and getting somewhat defensive of his feelings, like they might not be his own.

Cas reassures him that his grace is only the chill, cool, washing-over sensation. The warmth came from Dean, which explains why it had always lingered so long after Cas would leave a room. He feels the warmth now. It pushes out from his ribcage straight to his hands and feet.

Dean is safe, happy, and warm, on a beach in Heaven.

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Listen guys I wanna make some type of looking-over-the-horizon ending-shot fanart to go with this but unfortunately these thoughts come at 2am and I'm still getting used to having a solid adult job out of college, among a million other resposibilities.

I know not many if anybody is viewing my posts rn since I just remade my account after 8 years but---BUT---hear me out---

I'm so passionate about this y'all. I wanna share it with people that get it. I have other fandoms I care about, my walls are covered in personal artwork for Jinx (arcane), Princess Mononoke, Walter White, Bo Burnham, Wolverine and Deadpool, Avatar (last Airbender), Avatar (James Cameron), My frickin' Little Pony (FIM), and many other scattered interests. also a lot of bears. theyre probably my favorite animal. averaging at least 2 bears per wall. interesting.

Anyway, I'll post a lot of different art and headcanons/drabbles/oneshots depending on the day but this account is my first steps into taking my hobbies seriously, especially art and writing.

Follow or don't, I won't know if you even saw this!

Either way, we hope you enjoyed your stay at Blanket Fort, come again soon!

[gingervitus]

Traviesos: A Rookanis Drabble

AKA I had three beers and a cocktail last night and began writing vignettes that I'll probably post altogether at a later date.

Also I've fully leaned into the mixture of Italian and Spanish because it's fiction, and I'm in charge of writing this.

If you're also a 100 word drabble truther don't @ me because I am NOT.

“Signor Dellamorte.”

The day has passed in a flurry of gold and white and red. Music thrums loudly in their ears. Chatter lingers down every crowded hall. Food and wine have both flowed freely since early on in the day’s festivities. Nothing but smiles and laughs and stolen kisses matter at this moment even if Lucanis’s shoulders are growing stiff from the pose he’s been holding for what feels like the better part of an hour.

“Signore!”

His eyes snap to the hauntingly familiar old man peeking out from behind an enormous canvas. “Yes, Vittorio?” he sighs in response, exasperated. Vittorio had been commissioned for every portrait hung in Villa Dellamorte for as long as Lucanis can remember. The familiar signature of the painter can even be found scrawled on the corner of one portrait he spent much of his childhood drawn toward: his mother and father on their wedding day.

“Please stop moving your head.” With a blink, he glances from Vittorio to his partner in portraiture. Rook, who arches a brow at him without turning her head, for whatever reason–one he cannot truly understand himself–stands with him on this day. Their wedding day. He squeezes her hip with the hand that has been perched on hers while they await their release back to the wedding reception. “You will be able to look at her for the rest of your days, so please, hold still now.”

A grin crawls across her lips. “You’re causing a ruckus, Signor Dellamorte,” she clucks. Her palm is warm in his hand. Comfortable. Familiar. Just as she has somehow always felt to him. Regardless of the distance he attempted to put between them, she has been constantly available. Right by his side even if he felt he didn’t quite deserve that. When she shifts her head to meet his eyes, he feels the warmth of the sun on his face.

“Lady Dellamorte, please.”

Lucanis can hardly contain himself at the resigned scolding. Words escape him. Elation courses through his veins. “Huh,” she breathes, watching him. “You liked that, didn't you?”

“What?” He blinks rapidly at her, fully aware he can't fool her. Hearing her referred to in that way–Lady Dellamorte–stirs something in him he didn't realize existed. It had always been Illario he thought would be having this sort of life event. A grand wedding with hundreds of guests. Effervescent dancing and loud music. Endless drinks and food that just kept appearing. The portrait that would be hung with all the others in the villa. All Lucanis had to be was efficient. Good with a knife. He was raised to work. To take up the mantle of First Talon or get himself killed before it could be handed to him.

But here he is. Awe fills his mind as he stares directly into her eyes. Somehow, he is here, and she is with him. Rook. His Rook. His wife. “Signor Dellamorte, please face forward,” Vittorio begs.

This time, Lucanis doesn't even bother looking away. “Vittorio, surely you cannot begrudge me a moment to look at my beautiful wife,” he replies easily, and he wonders if the mystery liquor Davrin fed him earlier is speaking for him or if he is simply drunk on bliss alone. A blush rises over Rook's neck and cheeks. The smile that crosses his lips is one that isn't worth fighting.

A grumble comes from behind the canvas, “Che due palle.” It is no matter. Years ago, he would have dutifully posed for as long as the old man needed, per his grandmother's instruction. However, all those years ago, his life had not been his own. He went through every motion he was instructed to complete. Every job. Every event. Down to the very meal at times. While the painter works, Lucanis dips forward to press a kiss to his wife's lips, earning a huff of laughter from her. “Just like your father. Unbelievable.”

Months later, the portrait hangs in the villa. The pose is not what Caterina intends, and she makes it known how displeased she is. Rook and Lucanis stand nose to nose, staring with a longing that, frankly, they're all impressed translated so well through oil paints. There are whispers of smiles on their faces that contrast heavily with the somber portraits lining the hall.

Labeled beneath the painting on a small golden plaque in swirling script reads:

Lucanis & Eleanora 9:57