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solbaby7 · 6 months

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Win You Over | Rhysand x reader

Rhysand x Cassian x reader

Warnings: 18+, language, graphic sexual detail, threesome, two guys one girl

——

An adrenaline rush unlike the kind that surged during the thick of a fight, through the heat of battle; thundering, unbridled adrenaline that settled in your bones like the icy chill in the middle of winter. This felt different, the thick ropes that tied your feet and hands together, the ones wrapped around your thighs and connecting somehow on the back, leaving you wide open and embarrassingly exposed under Rhysand’s gaze.

He’s been too quiet, the first few buttons of the expensive black shirt undone to broadcast his muscled chest and the gold chain that glimmered under the flickering firelight called to her like sirens in the ocean. “I like you like this,” He finally speaks, standing at the edge of the bed but it still feels too far away. It’s pathetic, the affect Rhys had on you—on your body and even after years of fighting, the bickering, the pranks that always toe the line of entirely too far; the High Lord of the Night Court always found a way to leave you a submissive mess for him behind closed doors. “A much better look than your usual scowl.”

It appears on cue, the middle finger raising in tandem with your scowl before you can even think about it and the action itself forced an amused chuckle from Rhy’s mouth. “I didn’t really come here for your opinions.”

“It’s cute,” He continues, fingers tracing over the secure knots he’d tied, tongue darting out to swipe over the plush of his bottom lip at the way goosebumps swarm your skin when his knuckle drags down your inner thigh. A ghost of a touch but plenty to have your cunt clenching in anticipation. You wait for the blush to form upon realizing exactly how exposed you are with no way to hide under his inquisitive eye. “You,” Rhys clarifies softly and even from where he stands you can smell the ocean breeze on his skin, the night blooming jasmine from the soap bars he purchased specifically from the small store in the northern markets in Velaris, near the Palace of Hoof and Leaf. “—assuming that I was talking to you. It was more so of a passing thought—like when someone purchases an expensive painting and then it finally arrives all wrapped up.” He lets out a breath, voice going softer when he finally puts his hands on you. Warm palms tracing agonizingly slow paths down the length of your legs and the room darkens as he allowed a sliver of his power to escape, releasing the pent up pressure of constantly holding back. “You stand back and admire it for a while. That’s you—my pretty little painting, all wrapped up just for me.”

The possessive lilt in his tone is deafening, robbing you of breath and replacing it with nothing but unbridled want. It’s unmissable, the scent of your desire filling the room like the fine incense Rhys bought in bulk from the Autumn Court.

Rhysand lets out a laugh, a truly amused little thing that had his head tilting back a bit, showing off the thick line of his throat, the adam’s apple that bobbed with his glee. “Cassian wouldn’t ever believe me if I told him I had you begging in my bed before I’d even touched you.”

It was true.

No one would, really.

You and Rhysand fought like a divorced couple who had to remain in contact because of a kid. You didn’t have a problem with anyone else, fairing well with Azriel’s quiet disposition, falling into step with Mor and her interesting choices in fashion, Cassian and his boisterous laughs and crude jokes. Even after two Winter Solticles you’d won Armen over after gifting her a seriously expensive emerald arm cuff in the shape of an eye and its matching earrings.

Never Rhys though, with his stupidly handsome smirk and those piercing violet eyes that always seemed to follow you—always commenting on your hair or your clothes or that piercing you’d drunkenly gotten with Mor and Feyre. “Call him in here then.” You say it as a joke, there’s even a hint of a smile on your face as the words pass your lips. “I’m sure he’d make quick work of getting me where I need to be.”

He raised a brow, fingers stilling their ministrations on your legs. “Is that so?”

But Rhysand is gone before you can protest and explain that it was just a joke because having the High Lord of the Night Court witness you laid barren for him like some prized mare tied for for auction was plenty thrill enough. Your body gives you away though, always the snitch when practically leaking like the faucet in the bathing chamber during bath time at the thought of two cocks in you at once. Two hard, muscled bodies with their warm membranous wings drawn out like your own personal shields while they took turns ruining you for any other man.

A minute or two passes before Rhys is back in the room, Cassian following close behind him and you have to fight the burning blush from overtaking every inch of your skin when the Illyrian fighter groaned at the sight of you. He’s already shirtless, golden-brown skin on display, every line and dip of Cass’ muscles accentuated by the dim lighting. He had to have just gotten out the shower, his long dark hair still dripping at his shoulders as hazel eyes take in your form. “Mother above,” Cassian doesn’t look away when fishing a hand deep in his pockets before pulling out three gold coins and wordlessly handing them over to Rhys. “—I thought you were fucking with me.”

“No, not about this.” Rhysand hummed out, fingers toying with the coins. “Why don’t you tell him what you told me, pretty girl?”

“I—“ The words die on your tongue, wrists twisting under the restraints but it seems the harder you struggle the tighter they get. “Cass, please.”

“It’s all going to be fine,” He croons, the door shutting behind him with a click and with the comfort of no one unexpectedly interrupting, Cass seemed to fully sink into his role. He crossed the room like he owned it, standing shoulder to shoulder with Rhysand at the end of the bed like you were the main character in one of those shows they played in the amphitheater. “Just tell me what you said.”

“I said—“ It takes a minute for the nerves to subside, the initial embarrassment of one of your best friends seeing you bent at the will of another a greater high than any smokes or powders that Mor liked to offer on girls nights. “I said that Rhys was taking too long and that you’d have already gotten me where I needed to be.”

Even to your own ears the words aren’t nearly as confident as the first time, voice low and eyes even lower as you awaited his reaction. “She’s not wrong Rhysand,” Cassian murmured, utterly transfixed with the sloppy wetness that smeared between your thighs, the pretty red polish on your toes and the golden toe ring that glistened under the light. He doesn’t ask Rhys for permission, you note, when Cass reaches out and slides two digits up the slit of your sex and if he feels the heartbeat in your pussy when the pads of his pointer and middle finger swipes over your clit, he doesn’t say anything. “She’s absolutely filthy,” And if the words don’t send shivers down your spine, the two fingers that breach your hole does. The moan that slips past is nothing but desperate, bound hands clenching around nothing as your hips wriggled, begging for more. “—just dripping. Ruining a perfectly good pair of sheets.”

“You haven’t even seen the half of it.” Rhys muttered as he rounded the bed, fingers making casual work of shrugging off his black shirt, unbuttoning the waistband of his pants.

The degrading way they speak about you as if you aren’t even in the room was probably supposed to clear you from the brain fog, pull you from the hands that were squeezing over your breasts, tugging at tweaking at pert nipples until your back softly arched from the bed. “More, please.” You beg, eyes glassy and lips bitten in attempts to keep your noises to yourself but Cassian’s fingers were so warm as they explored the new territory of your body. He muttered praises into your skin, tongue trailing a line from your bellybutton to the dip of your neck.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you so polite.”

“I said that same thing once too,” Rhys mused from your side, fingers gently moving hairs from your face as his best friend pressed kisses down your thighs, sucking marks where he pleased as one hand toyed with the jewelry dangling from your navel. “She gets real sweet when you play with her—turns into all bark and no bite.”

You’re a panting mess, by Rhysand’s words or Cassian’s mouth that inched closer and closer to where you needed him most, you can’t tell but every touch, every graze of those lips had your body on fire. “My favorite,” Cassian’s smirk is sinful, hazel eyes full of promise when peering up through your legs. “And you’ve got her all tied up like a present— Rhys, I might just keep her.”

There’s an unspoken darkness that emerges at the words and Cassian is either too comfortable to too busy to notice, Rhysand doesn’t say anything though. Instead, a hand wraps around your throat, gentle yet claiming as he leaned over to press a kiss to your mouth, tongues touching in greeting as his affect on you responded to his friends words better than anything else could’ve. The way your legs fall limp at your sides, fully giving in to Cassian’s mouth on your pussy lapping firm lines and unforgiving suckles to your clit that had you moaning into Rhysand’s mouth.

Holding back is a thought of the past when two thick fingers enter you, slow drags pumping in and out and in and out—accompanied by his mouth has you breaking away from the kiss to look down and watch the soldier at his knees for you. Profanity spills from your lips easier than prayers to the gods above as the angle Rhys had tied you in forced Cassian’s fingers deeper than usual. “He doing a good job?” Your High Lord whispered in your ear, nose grazing the swell of your cheek as he watched over your shoulder.

You answer in a moan, hips wriggling and breathing sharp as the coil tightened in your stomach, cunt clenching over fingers squelching obscenely in your arousal as Cass worked you through your orgasm. His pace slows and his mouth drifts from your cunt to your tummy, peppering kisses until his lips wrapped around a hardened bud. You hands strain with the urge to touch him, to run your fingers through his hair and drag him up for a kiss just to push him back down for more of what he’d done before.

“You’re telling me my competition is two minutes and twelve seconds?” Rhysand laughs to himself as he and Cassian switch places and before the soldier can lean down to press a kiss to your lips, he freezes, eyes darting to his High Lord in worry. “Sorry,” The hold he has on Cass releases instantly. “—I’m okay with everything else just not that. No kissing.”

There’s a sheepish blush that fans across your cheeks at the words, slightly guilty for entertaining it—for leaning in and pursing your lips. Rhys seems to sense it, easing away your worry with a kiss of his own before sliding his fingers between you legs. “It’s fine Rhys, I have plenty of other places to put my mouth on.”

“How about we make a deal?” The High Lord mumbles to Cassian, voice distracted as two thumbs spread your pussy lips open, cock throbbing in his pants at the sight of your arousal, clit swollen from Cassian’s tongue. “I beat you, you go to the meeting with Keir on my behalf.”

The Illyrian soldier doesn’t stop kneeling at your breasts, fingers rolling your nipples until the tingle electrifies down your spine like lightning through the sky. “And if I win?”

“What do you want?”

A smirk forms, lips ghosting your cheek when he answers, one thumb tracing the seam of your lips. “A kiss. One on her mouth—just like I did her pretty little pussy.” Cassian says it like a taunt, tongue tracing the curve of your shoulder before placing a kiss to your neck.

Rhysand smiles, his gaze darkening, dark tendrils of power emerging from his hands, whispering around your figure like a cool blanket on clammy skin. Your fingers had long since gone numb from the lack of blood circulation but you couldn’t care less when that power had amplified your pleasure tenfold—this was your favorite part. When every touch felt like a million hands roaming your skin, every kiss felt like being worshiped and when the fat head of his cock nudged between slick lips, sound comparable to a sob rips free. “Please, please, please. I need it.”

A deep sigh is released when he complies, cock stretching you slowly and the timer begins, his thick girth dragging at your spongy inner walls. “I’ll never get tired of that,” Rhys confessed, hands tight on the undersides of your thighs, pussy leaking as he picked up the pace. The moans you let out are near delirious, every thrust and flick of his thumb against your sensitive clit had your cunt clenching around his cock so hard he was straining to hold back—to last and win his silly little games and fuck his bratty girl with his best friends cock down her throat. “Eyes on me, pretty girl.” Your High Lord commands, one hand snaking up to wrap around your throat, body jolting with his weight behind each thrust. “Watch me win you.”

You’re not sure how much time has passed but between the hypnotizing contractions of Rhys’ abdomen, the sweaty sheen, the dark hair that hung near his eyes and the giant membranous wings that shuffled when you clenched around him, reaching climax with a shuddering breath.

“Two more seconds,” Cassian muttered, hazel eyes lingering around your mouth. “—and you would’ve been all mine.” A sigh passed, one laced with disappointment. “Next time.”

Rhysand releases you from your restraints and with not even half a thought the ropes are nowhere to be found, pins and needles pricking in your hands and feet. There’s a warm cloth cleaning at you before your eyes can even adjust, brain foggy and words slurred—a side affect of Rhys’ power. He clicks his tongue, pulling back the covers and tucking you in tight before meeting eyes with Cass. “There won’t be a next time.”

The soldier laughs, accepting his leave but the kiss he pressed to your cheek, just a hairs breath away from the corner of your mouth—a silent promise that there most certainly would be a next time.

———

Can’t lie—might make a part 2. Lemme know what you think🤍

#acotar #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #18+ age range #a court of thorns and roses #high lord rhysand #rhysand x reader smut #rhys acotar #cassian acotar #cassian smut #rhysand #cassian #acotar x you #acotar x reader #acotar x reader smut

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alexanderlightweight · 11 months

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You have a lot of really cool stories where the Nephlin have their own culture and courting rituals, but what about Warlocks?

i have so many thoughts about this and i do have some meta written about warlock customs and cultures because i have... basically a field index i'm trying to wrk on in my spare time.

one thing that i headcanon across my universes is that the consorts of powerful warlocks boost and aid warlocks in their power, contrl and spells based on the bonds between them. so depending on what the warlock and consort/s want is how the rituals are picked.

spoils of war

i hope you enjoy!

Magnus stares across the gathering, counting the many kings and High Warlocks and Elders who have gathered here to witness his bonding.

Nearly none were at his wedding — Magnus’ mentally sneers at the word — and that was by design. Why waste the time of the downworlds most powerful for what everyone knew the nephilim considered a farce.

Normally this kind of bonding takes months to plan to advance — but Magnus knows that if he waited the amount of time it would normally take — that Alexander will only drift further away.

That is something that Magnus cannot afford, not now while he ties up the last of his deals on earth and in this realm.

Around them every warlock who has a consort has brought them along, a sign of respect that Magnus demands of them and that they obey. Magnus ordered them to bring their consorts at witnesses, something that is rarely done and even more rarely obeyed as there is no true magick that will force a warlock to bring their consort.

This however, is different.

Magnus is the reason why their consorts will now have more safety and it is why they listen.

Why they honor Magnus and his own bonding.

Still, not a single consorts face is uncovered.

For all they respect him and each other, the personal intimacy of a consort is something most warlocks are loathe to share and Magnus — despite being a king of hell — is truly no different in that aspect.

The Council of Elders gathers and Ragnor and Cat stand tall and alone, but side by side. Neither are interested in the bonds required of a consort and three other unbonded Elders join them as witnesses.

Only half of the kings have consorts and less than a third of the High Warlocks are bonded.

It means that the majority of the warlocks gathered will be witnesses, but there is enough bonding magic already gathered that Magnus knows he can do what he wants.

The types of rituals used depend on the depth of the bond being forged and Magnus knows what he wants from this bonding.

It means using not one of the oldest rituals, but one of the rarest due to the complexity of the rituals nature, the power it takes, and the rarity of the ingredients.

In the Labyrinth, Magnus descends the stairs, guiding Alexander down with a steady hand and magic that won’t allow his boy to trip.

No one can see Alexander’s gorgeous hazel eyes, or the way they often gleam with hesitant curiosity and wary intrigue. No one will see the uncertainty Magnus is sure is in his gaze. Or the evidence of how he hasn’t yet given himself over fully, not yet gifting Magnus with his trust and devotion rather than just his submission and obedience.

Alexander is magnificent and the mask only gives him more presence, the wings of the True Nephilim frame him as he walks and while his steps are confident and graceful, Magnus knows the tremors of his heart.

The array on the floor was painted with the mixed blood of both demons and angels and then coated with a seal made from the ash of nephilim wings and the tears of a siren.

The power and magic that has been singing in the array arches almost eagerly towards them and Magnus can feels Alexander’s shudder as it twines around him.

There is hushed, awed murmur when the ritual he’s picked is recognized. Magnus can feel both the surprise and the respect and also the confusion at his choice.

For tonight, Magnus will tie Alexander to him in the most intimate of ways so that Alexander understands that Magnus will not let even the thought of him go. For they will be tied together, even in their dreams and Magnus lets the silk made from his magic gleam with his power, forcing the others to avert their eyes as he kisses Alexander.

Magnus cuts his lip and then Alexander’s, using the stele that Jem had personally gifted him and that he’s yet to try on his consort.

With magic shielding them, he lets Alexander’s robe open and sears the demonic sigil of his house and name in a rune over his consort’s heart.

Magic captures Alexander’s whine of confused pain and Magnus steals his own name from a bleeding, beautiful mouth.

“Alexander.” Magnus croons and then he sighs, letting the robes settle back into place and the protection of his magic dissipates now that none can see Alexander.

It��s a pity that Magnus had to adhere to the standards of nephilim at their political ceremony, but that won’t be a problem going forward.

The small shard of Magnus’ soul that he carefully harvested is in the form of a little pearl and Magnus summons it, holding it out expectantly. Alexander hesitates for only a breathe and then he obediently opens his mouth.

Magnus pets over his tongue for a moment, spreading magick that Alexander’s whimpers at and then he smirks as every warlock and consort in attendance begin to hum.

The vibrations of magick continue throughout the entire chamber until the very walls are reverberating and Magnus’ own magic sings in his body as Alexander’s body accepts Magnus’ soul.

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #spoils of war #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #shadowhunters

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inheartofwinter · 4 months

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FIC CLAIM

Sing Me A Song

(Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter; M; ~15k)

Gift for @khb-writes

My submission for H/D Erised 2023.

Millions of thanks to @porcelainheart3 for helping me beta this fic! I don't know how it would turn out without you =v= Probably nothing good.

Summary: On his birthday, Draco Malfoy discovered that he was a half-siren and had a mate. The problem was his mate was none other than the famous Harry Potter, aka his sworn enemy who despised him. What would he do next? On a side note, why was Harry Potter so annoyed that a certain obnoxious blond git had stopped antagonising him?

Additional tags: Humor, Fluff, Angst, Misunderstandings, Creature Fic, Inspired by Music, Song fic, Tea, Post-Hogwarts, Idiots in Love, Pining, Getting Together, Fights, Drinking, brief use of ableist language, brief use of misogynistic language, H/D Erised 2023, Background Polyamory, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Minor Blaise Zabini/Ginny Weasley/Pansy Parkinson, Minor Luna Lovegood/Theodore Nott, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter)

“Can’t run away anymore, huh?” Potter slammed a stack of documents on Draco’s desk. His grin looked a bit too savage for a little friendly chat between co-workers. Draco unconsciously pushed his chair back a bit. Where was the mouthy bint when Draco needed her? He was going to demote her! “I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” answered Draco with a tight smile, trying not to let his panic show. But Merlin, Potter looked good. Gone were his usual dopey smiles; the smile he had on right now was full of teeth. It looked wild and downright dangerous, like an untamed beast, especially from the angle Draco was put in. And he was so close. “You don’t understand?” Potter arched an eyebrow, faking surprise. And then, he leant in until their noses were almost touching. “About how you’ve been scurrying away like a rat whenever you see me?” It turned out, Potter didn’t just look good. He smelled good, too. ‘Calm down, Draco. You’re better than that,’ Draco mentally scolded himself. ‘Stop acting like a bird in heat.’

Read on Ao3

#drarry #drarry fic #hd erised #erised 2023 #fic claim

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acapelladitty · 2 years

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love you with my hands tied

Pairing: Corintheus (Dream/Corinthian)

Word Count: 4.3k (nsfw)

(Warnings: sub/dom dynamics, punishment, choking, whipping, mild blood, teasing, pain kink, anal sex)

Summary: Muzzled and held in place at his creators feet, continued defiance sees the Corinthian punished for his rebellious mouth and actions.

Perfectly moulded to his face, the leather muzzle presses against Corinthian's lips like the fingers of an eager lover as his pink tongue traces across the thin straps to taste and tease at the material. Earlier in their day, he had watched his master lovingly craft it from the void, knowing that it would soon be wrapped around his head, and the knowledge had created a stutter within his chest as he understood its purpose.

It was both a gift and a warning.

One which recognised his strengths as well as the dangers which his vicious mouth has wrought on those unfortunate enough to cross his path. Victims and lovers, both stood as equal casualties to the sharpness of his teeth as he indulged his unfettered desire for flesh.

His beloved teeth; all of them.

Those same teeth which now served only to protect and pleasure the one who had caged them.

To have his mouth restricted in such a way was akin to having a sense removed, the lack of freedom making his other senses heighten. He could feel the harshness of the cool marble flooring pressing smoothly against his supplicant knees as the faint turning of the paper pages from the figure behind him roars like a cacophony in his ears.

"Little dream."

Twisting his head at the familiar siren call of his creators’ voice, Corinthian turns his body fully - legs shuffling as the lack of slack in his leash ensures he remains held in his submissive position - and gazes up at the being who owns him in both body and soul in a way which no other creature could comprehend.

He had been somewhat mischievous in his last visit to the waking world and his behaviour had not gone unnoticed. Although, in the grand scheme of punishments, being held at his masters’ feet as though he were a muzzled beast was one which he could at least find some pleasure in.

The book which Dream had been reading is now discarded in his lap as his pale fist tightens around the end of the leash which connects to the thick chain around Corinthian's throat, its weight a constant, dizzying reminder against his warm skin.

As ever, the shock of inky hair seems to pull in the light from around it, swallowing it whole as Corinthian’s eyes dip from Dream’s hair to his pale face; the features there achingly familiar as is the stern but almost playful look which radiates from his stiff expression.

"You've been somewhat behaved this last hour of your punishment." Dream praises in a heavy, almost bored, tone. "So, tell me, if I take your new muzzle off, will you dare to bite me again? Worry at my hand like the feral creature you so often show yourself to be?"

Snarling below the straps of leather in pure defiance as he plays his part, Corinthian curls his lips enough to allow his sharp teeth to flash in warning. His head quickly follows as it dips into an unmistakable nod of confirmation, the movement making the chain clink quietly.

How could he not bite the hand which holds his leash?

He was birthed of a desire to reflect the true darkness of humanity and darkness would not allow for itself to be quelled as easily as his maker may like.

Then again, if the sudden heat which enters Dream’s cool features at his defiance is to be believed, then perhaps his refusal to submit is exactly what his maker expects of him.

"Disrespectful little pup," voice as chastising as it is amused, Dream's own lips quirk up in a smirk to match the open challenge of his creation, "perhaps we shall now focus on instilling some more discipline training in order to bring you properly to heel."

Snapshots of heated memories flash through Corinthian's mind in quick succession as his breath stutters and his cock swells against his thigh.

His sight blocked to enhance his reaction to every wicked touch and torment as he was held immobile by restraints which would never break until his creator were satisfied enough to release him.

The sting of the whip against his broad shoulders as Dream methodically tested out various implements to find the one which drew the most pathetic noises from his lips.

A familiar scent of copper filling the space as his own blade was pressed firmly to score through his willing flesh by a firm hand which was quick to fix the damage it has inflicted only to repeat the action once again.

Flexing the exposed muscles of his back, he can almost feel the delightful ache of his lords last attempt at instilling some discipline in his most rebellious nightmare and his ocular eyes are lidded as he answers.

"You can try."

He bites the words, muffled as they are by the custom-built muzzle, with as much honeyed venom as he can muster, even as a pit of desperate need roils within his stomach.

Fuck the consequences, he would see this game through to the end.

Pulling at the chain within his firm grasp once again, Dream's eyes narrow in obvious pleasure as the move forces Corinthian to jerk forward, ripping him free of what little pride he possesses as he stumbles messily in place.

Shuffling towards his master to prevent the new pressure of the chain on his neck, Corinthian comes to a rest between Dream's outstretched thighs as he finds himself unable to resist the arousal which the promise of the punishment which he so rightly deserves ignites within him.

He only hopes that Dream will use his hands.

"For your defiance, you will choose three additional punishments which will become your undoing."

Flashing a hyena’s smile, Corinthian’s eyes narrow as his nose presses on the highest part of the muzzle.

"Only three, my lord?"

A sharp gasp breaks free of his lips, quickly followed by a whining keen as thin fingers wind themselves in his blonde hair and tug at it harshly. Fire ignites in his scalp at the rough treatment and his neck swallows around the chain as it extends up to lessen the unexpected pressure.

"Was I unclear?" Brooking no disobedience, Dream's words boomed in his ear. "Choose your three punishments and you may also explain to me why you deserve each of them."

Arousal, hot and heavy, sits within his gut and the intensity of it makes his breath come in short, sharp bursts as his mind whirs with the possibilities. Punishment was limitless within the Dreaming, with the only barriers coming from the imagination of himself and his maker.

And neither were lacking in that sordid department.

"Choke me, my lord. As my creator, you crafted and breathed life into this form, and you have the right to give and take that privilege at a whim."

A soft groan floats from Dream as Corinthian bites out his first choice from behind his muzzle, his arousal coating his words like a poison.

"And the second?" Dream prompts.

"Flog me, my lord. My depraved use of this flesh has shown you much disrespect and I deserve to have it marked and punished as you see fit."

As Dream openly palms the clear bulge which shows at the robed section of his groin, a grunt of pleasurable shock ricochets through Corinthian as Dream's ankle shifts up to brush against his stiff cock.

"And your final punishment?"

The forced nonchalance in Dream’s tone makes Corinthian's lips twitch. He knows exactly what to say to play into his creators’ desires. Desires which are as twisted as his own despite how much Dream would deny the accusation.

After all, were he not crafted from Dream's own being?

"Fuck me, my lord. Use this body however it pleases you with no regard for my own selfish desires. Force me into my place as the perfect creation which you shaped me to be."

Dream hums in consideration but the sudden gleam which has entered his dark eyes is undeniable.

"Very well, my nightmare, you shall have your wish."

Immediately, the chain around his neck contracts and takes with it his ability to breathe freely. Panic and fear, ripe it its intensity, claws at his senses as his fingers scramble against Dream's legs. To start so quickly, and with such a relentless grip, is a cruelty which he had not expected of his creator and the surprise makes each of his mouths fall open as he gasps for air which will not come.

His cock jerks between his legs; knees rolling forward to push him up higher as his choking has the familiar, depraved side-effect of heightening the heated arousal which sits low in his gut and seems determined to consume him.

The right to give and take.

He wanted this.

Dream was only giving him what he wanted.

The thudding of his heart within his chest, his fingers clawing at his neck, is almost too much to bear and the boom of panic is clear on his expression; an expression which is being intently studied by the cool visage of his creator.

Serene as ever, the only hints towards the satisfaction which his creator is deriving from his torment is the slight flush which has crept to the highest points of his cheeks. That and the pure lust which is radiating from the void of his irises; as dark and unyielding as the ancient being himself.

The pressure within his skull throbs within his cock with just as much intensity, the sensitive head bobbing against his stomach as he writhes in place, desperate to regain his breath. One hand drops from his neck to wrap around his twitching length, providing a momentary relief against the bitter need for stimulation.

It proves to be short-lived as an iron-like grip closes around his wrist and jerks his hand away so violently that he hears the bone creak in warning. Pain radiates from the joint as the pressure around his neck lets up just enough to allow Dream's stern words to break through the sound of rushing blood in his ears.

"You get what I say, when I say you can have it. Do not disobey me now, little dream, or I will add on some creative punishments of my own."

The grip tightens even further, and the quick bloom of pain forces a keening whine from Corinthian's lips as Dream continues.

"And they will not be punishments you will find any joy within; regardless of your perversions."

Having made his point, Corinthian finds his hand quickly released along with the pressure on his throat as the chain choking him loosens fully around his straining neck.

Immediately gulping down as much oxygen as possible, the air burns his straining lungs as a suspicious trickle of bloodied tears trailed their way down his face. The pressure within his head remains at bursting point and his hands instinctively come to wrap around his temples, quelling the noise as he covers his ears and focuses on his breathing.

Blurred hands appear before his face as firm fingers loop themselves around his neck chain, loosening it further. Almost curiously, they press against the hot, almost broken skin below and the chilling sensation of Dream's fingertips on the abused flesh there draws a low mewl from Corinthian's lips.

Something desperate.

Pathetic.

"Remind me of your second chosen punishment."

A cruel request, given how raw and rough Corinthian's throat feels despite its new freedom, but it is a request he knows better than to hesitate to fulfil.

"To- to flog me, my lord."

Every word burns like an open flame and his grimace beneath the muzzle is impossible to conceal.

"Why?"

"The way I choose to use this body, the body you gave me, means I deserve to be punished."

"I wove you into being from the void," Dream agreed, his voice hard as he plays his part with ease, "toiled for months to make you perfect in every way which mattered. And you choose to use my gifts for your selfish deviances? To satiate a debauched lust on the humans you were created to serve?"

As Dream's small speech washes over him, shame stirs within his chest and the flush of it creates a shudder down his spine as a twinge of arousal spikes within his cock.

Debauched lust.

Selfish deviance.

Perfect.

"Which flogger does such perversion deserve?"

Materialising a simple riding crop into his outstretched palm, Dream weighs it for a moment before levelling his stare back at Corinthian.

"Too lenient, you enjoy this one too much."

In the blink of an eye, the crop is gone, replaced by a bullwhip; the length of it trailing across the floor like a serpent as apprehension knocks at Corinthian's heart.

Fuck.

The bullwhip was one of the few toys in their games which he genuinely feared. Its dart-like precision mixed with the inhumane strength of his maker, even when he was holding back, had proven its danger as it ripped through his skin like paper. Generally, the use of the bullwhip was limited for genuine punishment, to fix transgressions which did not quite merit an unmaking but could also not be simply ignored.

In the handful of events over their time together when such a punishment was warranted, the wounds took days to heal. He could remember the ache, the agony of his sliced skin pressing against his clothing as he were expected to continue with his duties without complaint. The vicious way in which Dream would inspect the slow healing of the marks as his cool fingers teased the raw flesh.

But such a punishment was wholly unwarranted for this game and rage, a familiar bedfellow as ever, bubbles deep within Corinthian's chest at the perceived injustice.

"What do you think?"

Mouth twisting below the muzzle at the unexpected question, Corinthian glances up from the bullwhip to meet Dream's expectant gaze.

He was being tested.

The debate between his pride and fear is brief as his eyes reflect the apprehension which makes his fingers tremble as he responds in kind.

"Whatever you think is necessary, my lord."

Smiling, Dream nods his own head to show his pleasure at the tactful words.

"Well done, my beautiful nightmare. A good answer," he pauses, "finally."

The ache which such a small yet genuine smile inspires within Corinthian's chest is almost painful in how eager it is. Relief also floods him as the bullwhip disappears and his head tilts to rest on Dream's knee, awaiting the next suggestion for his punishment.

Dream's free hand comes to rest, cool and heavy, on his scalp and Corinthian could positively purr at the affectionate gesture.

In a moment, Dream's free hand is filled once more and Corinthian blinks at the black cat o' nine tails which now lays within his palm; the scent of fresh leather washing over him and causing a faint stir in the arousal which heats the base of his spine.

"Assume the position, my nightmare. You have performed so beautifully thus far and a reward for your pains is within reach."

Perking up slightly, Corinthian ignores the slight embarrassment at how quickly he locks his hands to Dream's ankles as he drops back to his submissive position on all fours; his back arching high as his knees press into the marble flooring.

A perfect target.

Willingly offered.

A gasp breaks free of his lips as Dream gives an experimental swing; the flogger connecting with his back in one solid strike to give him a taste of what was in store. His head remains bent towards the floor, between his hold on Dream's ankles, if he glances down, he can just see the tip of his hardened cock, neglected and heavy as it hangs in the free space.

"Ask me to begin."

Anticipation making his throat dry, his response is practically choked out.

"Please, begin my punishment, my lord.

The next strike comes without hesitation, the impact rough and shocking. Exactly what he deserves.

What he needs.

Heat quickly rises in his skin, moving from a pleasant warmth to true discomfort as Dream quickly picks up his pace, drawing the flogger across his exposed back in a calculated swing to ensure as much coverage as possible.

He can feel every small leather knot at the end of the strands as they impact his flesh, digging in even more viciously to accompany the sting of the strands themselves. He grunts, he whines, he whimpers, and his pathetic noises are the only other sounds aside from the harsh snap of the leather.

The familiar sting of pain grounds him, centres him to the moment, and he relishes in it despite the way it makes his spine flinch, and his teeth worry his lips. With it comes the pleasure; the pleasure of his creators’ touch, his attention, and the undeniable way that even the slightest brush of physicality between them powers him more than any human depravity ever could.

A sudden strike catches him in a particularly brutal way, and he cannot bite back the short yelp which tears its way free of his lips as his slippery hands break free from their grip around Dream's ankles to fall flat to the floor.

Something wet trickles across his spine, slicing through the haze of sensation and his murky thoughts cannot determine if it is sweat or blood.

Panting through his raw throat, he dares to raise his head to his creator, only to find Dream staring down at him passively with one brow slightly raised. A million thoughts pass through his mind in that moment but the idea of giving in, of showing weakness, rankles his chest and he forces a smirk to his lips as he arches his back once more.

"A glutton, even for punishment." Dream offers fondly as his hand comes to rest on his chin to stroke the skin there with some affection.

"So red," Dream muses, "you cannot imagine how beautiful you look carrying my marks on such perfect and responsive skin."

But he can.

He feels a similar pride as he inspects and poses the bodies of those whose eyes he has taken and consumed.

A feeling of pure euphoria.

"Are you ready for the final part of your punishment?"

"Yes!" Corinthian almost cries out, the anticipation of finally getting to touch his maker making him feel almost lightheaded. "I am ready, my lord."

"If memory serves, I am to 'use your body however it pleases me'. Is that still your wish?"

"Y-yes."

A broken response as Corinthian raises his head once more, placing it gently on Dream's knee as his teeth gnaw as his lower lip.

Dream's hands move fluidly as they dip within the expansive robe which covers the majority of his pale skin and pull free his cock, the length looking painfully hard as a clear bead of pre-cum pearls at the very tip.

"You have thirty seconds to please me before we start," Dream instructs in a heavy voice which does not hide his arousal, "and you will receive no additional preparation. So, use your time wisely, my little dream."

Wanting nothing more in that moment, Corinthian shuffles his knees forward to allow him easier access to his prize and his tongue wraps itself around the head of his makers cock with reverence.

Sighing out his pleasure, Dream reclines slightly as he allows his creation to service him.

The taste of Dream, so recognisable that it seems almost built into his very being, draws a moan from his lips as he swallows down the tip of his cock, pushing his head forward as his tongue dances across the velvety skin.

No additional preparation.

Pulling free, he wets his mouth further and returns to his task, coating as much of Dream's length in his spit as he can. To ease what comes next. His work is diligent, ensuring that not a single inch is missed by his tongue and lips as he drinks in the pleasurable grunts which his creator gifts him with every few moments.

"Your time is up."

His voice further strained than it was a minute before, the colour in Dream's cheeks also looks more flushed.

"I feel that was longer than thirty seconds, my lord."

Allowing a tease to enter his tone, the look of exasperated amusement which enters Dream's eyes confirms his suspicions.

"Well, my nightmare? Your final punishment awaits."

Scrambling to his feet quickly, the ache in Corinthian's knees makes his legs wobble for only a moment as he climbs atop his creator.

While he may have had the advantage in terms of height and weight, the strength of Dream never failed to rip his breath from his lungs as he effortlessly pulled Corinthian into position, spreading his knees on either side of his thin frame and lining up Corinthian's ass with his cock.

Glancing down at Dream, something within Corinthian's heart constricts as he finds Dream's eyes locked on his own, absorbing his every movement and shift in emotion. Through the muzzle, he unleashed a wolfish grin and drops his body carefully.

Taking Dream's entire length in one push, he grits his teeth against the sudden pain which lances through his lower body. It steals his breath, and he involuntarily clenches around the cool length within, the move causing a low grunt to escape Dream as his eyes widen at the sudden stimulation which his creation is gifting him.

A fantastic sensation of fullness grips Corinthian as he moves his ass back up before pushing down again in a steady rhythm. The pain in still there but with it comes an overwhelming pleasure that makes his cock ache with neglect as it hangs in the free space between them. Arousal burns hot against his spine, and he moans freely, having nothing to hide in this moment.

He sets a slow yet intense pace, determined to feel every inch of the wonderful discomfort and terrible pleasure which he has earned and his cock bounces against his stomach with a maddening rhythm.

Cool lips wrap around his left nipple, teeth worrying the pebbled nub there in an agonising fashion as he throws his head back and whimpers. Clearly enjoying the reaction, thin fingers come to simultaneously pinch and pluck at his right nipple with a wicked firmness.

Tension wracks his body while lightning flashes through his veins as Dream's cock brushes that spot within him that makes him see stars and he repeats the same movements to encourage the sensation again and again and again.

He is so close that his teeth bite down on his lip in a vain effort to keep himself from coming too early. He wants to savour this. To feel everything.

He never wants it to end, as terrible as that would be.

Dream's fingers wrap around his cock and the sudden stimulation, the firm pressure mixed with the cool digits against his headed skin, is terrible in its intensity and he issues a low scream, one which refuses to stay within his chest.

"Come for me, my beautiful nightmare. My Corinthian."

It was enough.

The band of arousal which has grown unbearably tight across his lower body snaps and his vision seems to almost white-out for a moment as he comes. His release is messy against his own chest, reaching as high as his collarbone and the shame of it only serves to heighten the pleasure as his ass tightens around the length within it.

Lost in rapture, he barely feels it when Dream's thumb brushes against the mess on his chest, but he does feel it when he brings that same thumb to his lips, offering him a taste of his own release.

Parting his lips without thought, he accepts the thumb into his mouth as his tongue cleans his mess with reverence. Tasting not only the salt of his release, but also the slight hint of his creator as his tongue wraps around the offered thumb.

The thumb is removed smoothly, and Corinthian immediately misses its presence.

His creator within his mouth.

Devotion laid bare.

Dream still sheathed within him, Corinthian feels cool hands pressing atop the abused skin of his back to pull him lower down and he follows the guidance without hesitation. Overstimulated and raw, his chin trembles as he is held by his creator; an anchor which he can grip without any further apprehensions of punishment as such affection is offered freely.

Dream waves his hand lazily and the muzzle around his head disintegrates into nothing, leaving him feeling oddly exposed as he immediately uses his new freedom to plant a frantic kiss on Dream's temple.

"Your neck and back?" Dream mutters with a softness which is beautiful in its rarity.

"Manageable." Corinthian confesses with a sigh. "Although I will not reject a quick fix if one is on the table. I was expecting worse."

"The restraint it takes for me not to indulge the worst of your desires. You would allow me to flay you if you thought it may please me; your petty games of defiance aside."

Satiated and worn-out, the instinctive desire to snap back at such a fair assessment of his self is easily ignored and Corinthian instead chooses to accept the words.

"Maybe one day. It would be quite the experience," he hums, "for both of us."

Dream makes a small noise of consideration in his throat as he rolls his hips subtly; offering a stunning reminder to his nightmare of the hard length which is still sheathed within him.

"Hrmm, if you can remain here while I muse on some future construction work within the Dreaming then we shall see about offering you that 'quick fix' you desire."

Clenching his ass around Dream's cock as a physical show of agreement, Corinthian settles himself comfortably against Dream's chest as the heady scent of his maker envelopes his senses.

Nerves still quivering after the torrid mixture of pain and pleasure which assaulted them, the idea of a short break did hold some merit.

Besides, it was always interesting to watch Dream at his craft as he wove the reality around them into existence by his very whim. And here, seated upon his lord as he remained settled in his throne, there could be no greater position to watch him work than this.

Also available on AO3

#i tried very hard with this one so please dont let me flop lmao #corintheus #corinthian #dream of the endless #dream x corinthian #corinthian x dream #the sandman #sandman netflix #sandman 2022 #sandman smut #morpheus x corinthian #corinthian x morhpheus #tom sturridge #boyd holbrook #i also made that gif and im ashamed at how long it took

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whump-softie · 9 months

Text

When they captured the Siren, the world lost its sound. Everywhere the King looked, everything he heard or commanded, was grey and boring and dull.

But the only way to truly capture the Siren’s voice, their unexplainable gift to command, to demand, was to ensure there was a contingency plan. A person incapable of falling victim, of succumbing, of listening.

When they forced the strongest soldier down, the King had his hand over the Siren’s mouth, knife to their throat. When they tortured the strongest soldier, over and over, forced into submission, took away their voice, took away their hearing, stole their world’s sound, the King only waited patiently.

The only way to ensure the Siren could not speak ill upon the King, could not demand someone to free them, kill them, kill the King, was to deafen someone strong enough to stop them.

When the King held his first meeting since the capture of the Siren, the room was silent. For the King, the people hushed their whispers and bowed their heads. For the Siren, they tiptoed like ghosts and stared like reflections.

For the soldier, who couldn’t hear a single thing, who couldn’t voice their thoughts, the room was quiet and still. For the soldier, throat still bandaged, ears still throbbing, the room would always be silent.

#siren whumpee #soldier whumpee #soldier whumper #royal whumper #royal whump #whump #whumpee #Whumper #whump drabble #whump idea #deaf whumpee #deaf whumper #king whumper

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i-did-not-mean-to · 2 months

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Fëanorian Week - Ambarussa

It's twin time :) Less sad this time (I hope)

Words: 510

Characters: Amras & Amrod

Prompts: Childhood, Lordship, Regrets, Twin, Hunting

Warnings: Death of an animal, loss of identity, existential fear

Like two shadows cast by a slanted sunbeam hitting a gnarly tree, the twins slid noiselessly closer, arrows notched and eyes narrowed.

They had always delighted in hunting, but their puerile pleasure had since been marred lastingly by the understanding of the true cost of death.

Without having to exchange a single look, let alone a spoken word, they moved in perfect synchronicity as they prepared to bring down their family’s dinner.

It was vital to their pride and identity to contribute to the survival of their rapidly dwindling brotherhood as best they could—too long had they been coddled and excluded on the grounds of their respective youth and irrefutable position on the bottom rung of the familial hierarchy.

Giving a piercing cry of agony, the deer—once a proud guardian of the dark forest—fell to the mossy ground before laying still, its eyes as sightless and dull as discarded gems.

They had triumphed, but their victory tasted bitter, befouled by necessity and dire need as it was.

Already, they could feel the impatience of their elders thrumming in their own veins—they had to move on, ever driven by the siren call of their father’s accursed stones, and there was neither time nor room for leisure or rest.

As they bent over the cadaver to cut away what they wouldn’t need or couldn’t transport, their hands moved with ruthless efficiency while their hearts, beating as one, mourned the unceremonious demise of so proud a beast.

In a world of waxy greens and muddy browns, the narrow bands fastened around their wrists flashed like exotic blossoms, a single dash of muted colour amidst the monochrome of the woods.

Once, the woven bracelets had been positively gleaming, but they had bled out most of their dye over the years, thus becoming a horribly apt representation of the change the twins’ very souls had undergone.

Carnistir, in a slightly insulting jest, had bestowed this simple but invaluable gift upon them to keep them apart.

Back in the days of wild frolicking and courtly appearances, it had been important to keep track of Fëanor’s children, and the two youngest sons had played their part with as much dutiful gravitas as they could muster in between hunts and escapades.

How heedless and callous they’d been, disregarding their caring mother’s pleas and their father’s remonstrances cavalierly to follow their wayward brother into the forest instead of humouring their grandfather or listening to his wise council.

Now, they were no longer sure whether anyone cared which one of them had been born first as long as nobody had to learn which one was to die before the other.

Slinging their packs, dripping with blood and heavy with their gruesome prize, across their broad backs, they padded off as silently as they’d come.

To their brothers and the world, they were one, and they couldn’t even regret having lost their own separate identities if this conflation meant that they’d never truly be alone.

Pityo and Telvo were no more—only Ambarussa, burned and bitter, remained.

-> Masterlist

@feanorianweek, here is the second to last submission!

#og post #fëanorianweek #feanorianweek #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt #Ambarussa #Day 5 #Childhood #Lordship #Regrets #Hunting #Twins #Amrod #Amras #animal death #loss of identity

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hutaoscoffinn · 1 year

Note

I am certainly in a phase involving a rich drunk flamechaser:

Can I get some nsfw headcanons for eden with sub! fem! Reader?

OMG AT THIS RATE IMA GET REQUESTS FOR ALL OF THE OF AGE FLAMECHASERS AND I LOVE THIS SO MUCH AHHHHH omgomgomg YES you can get those headcanons coming right up

Warnings: afab reader, submissive reader, NSFW, mirror sex, clothed sex, thigh riding, dominant eden, loving sex, sapphic content, sapphic smut, 18+, vanilla sex

Character: Eden

Requests: OPEN

Sex with Eden is lazy and slow but oh so loving

Eden loves to take her time with you, working your body up nice and slow so that by the time she is ready to move past the teasing you’re nice and wet for her, your slick making a mess between your thighs

What might come as a surprise is that Eden is actually quite vanilla when it comes to her preferred methods of pleasuring you

Eden has beautiful hands and she loves to use those hands to bring you as much pleasure as she can, sinking her slender fingers into you knuckle deep

Her favourite way to pleasure you is to have you seated on her lap, one of her hands toying with your breasts or resting loosely around your neck as the other is toying with your clit and or fingering you

The way she pleasures you is slow and steady

Unlike some of the other flameschasers that prefer fast and rough sex, Eden prefers to go slow and gentle in order to press against every sweet spot in or on your body to bring you to the most satisfying orgasms she can possibly gift you

Despite how slow the sex can be with her, that does not mean it is any less satisfying

If anything, it’s more satisfying

Eden takes her time with you, showing you how much she loves you and always making sure that both of you feel comfortable

Eden is very affectionate during sex, constant praises leaving her lips when those same lips are not occupied with kissing across your body and littering loving marks all over your skin

She is also very vocal when you pleasure her, which is almost to be expected of her considering her occupation as a vocalist and one of the best of her time

Her moans sound like a siren’s song, one that has you entranced and addicted to her even more so than you already were

Everything about Eden is sexy and enticing

You are addicted to her and her touch and she is just as addicted to you and helping you feel all of her sweet love through heated touches

Eden loves seeing your face during sex, watching your expressions to drink in every single reaction that you have to her and her touch, so any position that allows her to do this is immediately a favourite of hers

However, her all time favourite position is actually you seated on her lap, her chest pressed against your back

But, when she does indulge in this specific position, she prefers when a mirror is involved

While Eden may be more vanilla than the others, she adores mirror sex

One of her favourite things is to make you watch yourself as she pleasures you, forcing your eyes to stay on your slick core as she teases you, whispering in your ear in a sultry voice about how wet you are, about the mess you are making on her lap

She absolutely adores how flustered you get during this, your face warming as you squirm in her lap while she teases you endlessly, her lips on your neck working down along your shoulders as her golden eyes are pinned on yours through your reflection in the mirror

Eden is also a fan of clothed sex, specifically her still wearing clothes while you are wearing none or close to none

She especially loves this type of sex when it is taking place on her lap so that she can tease you about how you are making a mess, your juices soaking through her skirt and tights or pants as she torments you

Bonus points if this clothed sex involves thigh riding

Eden has beautiful long legs and has had many a fantasy of you grinding your pretty pussy all over her clothed thighs while she grabs at your body, fingers running along your thighs and ass

The first time she finally got to fulfill this fantasy she was immediately hooked and now thigh riding takes place at least once a week with her, usually more

She just loves to watch you grind all over her thigh, your legs quivering as you get close to cumming for her while she kisses your lips sloppily, sucking on your tongue as you reach your peak

Eden thinks the messes you make all over her thighs are beautiful but someone still has to clean up those messes along with the slick that has accumulated between her own thighs, so you had better get on your knees and help her out

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memphis-menace · 2 years

Text

Siren!Elvis Headcanons

Disclaimer: Okay so just because I drew him, doesn’t mean my headcanons are the be all end all, okay? If you write about him, feel free to make up your own stuff about him, use this stuff about him, whatever you want! That’s the beauty of fandom! This is just how I personally think of the lad when I doodle him.

Disclaimer #2: There will be mentions of animal traits and geographical/topographical shit. I do not claim to actually know anything or claim it as fact. I am making this up, not aiming for accuracy. He’s a sexy water monster, I don’t think “accuracy” applies here.

Once again, @venus-haze has some AMAZING work out regarding her interpretation of him, and hopefully there’s more coming and I can’t wait to eat it up!

Alright, onto my version.

Okay so right off the bat, my version of Siren!Elvis ain’t exactly a fish. That interview that mentioned crocodile eyes took hold of my soul so. The boy is gator based. 🐊

Lives in a swampy/marshy river type area. Look I don’t know terminology I just know what I live by.

Originally, he sang more traditional siren-y songs; mostly just very melodic, wordless tunes. But as people started building residences and moving near his territory, he heard their music - blues, country, rock n’ roll - and decided he really liked it, so his siren song adapted accordingly.

So, being more reptilian than fishy, he doesn’t have a tail. He has semi-webbed clawed hands and feet, and a gator tail to help propel him through the water. He has scales covering his skin in certain places, mostly his back and arms? I’ll try and draw a reference for what I envision one day I’m not good with description there’s a reason I doodle instead of write fanfic 😭

Now yes, he does eat people. Come on, that’s like. The whole “siren” shtick. HOWEVER, if you should catch his eye as something other than food… 👀

Under no uncertain terms, this fella is a YANDERE. Once he’s set his sights on you, it’s over. You’re his. Prepare to be sung into submission, so to speak.

That being said, he knows that realistically he can’t keep you in the swamp indefinitely - humans are not made for mostly aquatic living. So you can stay at your house, but you better visit him every day or there WILL be a tantrum and his tantrums get bloody

Also his eyes do that reflecty/glowy thing, so if he finds out where you live and you wake up in the middle of the night to see glowing blue eyes by your bed looking at you, don’t worry it’s just Elvis, checking on you.

He may try and eat your pets but if you really reiterate to him that you don’t want him to do that he’ll concede and leave them alone.

However, don’t tell him of anyone you’re getting close to that he may consider a rival. The next day you’ll hear about a nasty, mangled, half-eaten corpse found floating down the river 😬

On the flip side, probably don’t tell him about people who are upsetting you. Unless you’re cool with a pile of bones being left on your porch. Cause like, you know how cats bring you dead animals as a gift? Yeah Elvis will do that. And will get extremely huffy if you throw them away or get rid of them; they were a gift! So what if it’s a liability and if someone finds out you could get arrested on suspicion of murder? He’ll eat the cops, don’t worry!

Fair warning, he will eat you if you try to break up with him or cheat on him. So if you’re starting a relationship with him, it’s gonna be your last one. One way or another. So proceed with caution.

He can also do that scary ass hiss/growl that gators do. Because it’s cool and I say so.

Now if you wanna hear him damn near purr, gently scratch the scales along his spine when you cuddle him. He’ll practically melt.

Now, mans got some sharp teefs. And unfortunately, biting is a love language for him. He’s not being mean or trying to hurt you, he just has to mark you up so people know you’re taken 🙂

Now when it comes to sexy time, you deadass may want to get him a muzzle because hoo lord you may end up in a hospital. He can’t always control his chompers when his hormones get high. He’ll feel bad afterwards and try to help you with the bleeding 🥺

Like most gators, Elvis will eat anything, especially if it’s something you made. Because he can’t fathom that you would take time out of your day to cook something to and bring it to him, when he’s perfectly fine eating raw meat. So it’s super special to him when you bring him food you made. It could be a deep fried boot and he’d eat it happily as long as you made it for him.

Eventually he learns (via siren magic because again, this is fantasy and I can do what I want) how to mask his reptilian features and look human, so he can spend even more time with you! Ain’t that great? :) He’s watched the humans around him for quite a while, so he knows how to behave like one when he needs to. You just need to buy him some clothes.

This will be updated, but this is what I got for now. He’s basically a big ol puppy with some less than safe eating habits and a unique way of lovin’

He is a g8er boi he said see you l8er boi

#elvis #elvis x reader #austin elvis x reader #elvis presley #elvis 2022 #siren!elvis #menace babbles #this is my boy and I love him so much #I hope y’all like him too #yandere elvis #Yandere elvis x reader

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sleepy-achilles · 5 months

Text

TikToks in my FOD universe part 8/???

Fun stuff below da cut

1. Posted by a fan. Mainly footage from bts videos or wrestler vlogs.

Caption- remeber the time Leon was the big one and drew was the small one? God times have changed and I'm thankful because look a them.

2. Posted by a fan. Footage from alexa and Leon's time as The Fiends minions.

Caption- Firefly Alexa and Leon were a gift from whatever higher power, because look at them! Listen to them! The tension, the serving, urg beautiful. Thank you fiendie

3. Posted by a fan, reblogged by everyone. Blew up. Footage from fod vlogs.

Caption- Learning Leon was a slut who was tamed by drew is a fanfic writers wet dream and I'm here for it. But also, John and Leon? They are serving in the latest vlogs.

4. Posted by the official wwe accounts when Taker announced retirement.

Caption- Sometimes, the students out grow the mentor. And sometimes, it hurts everyone involved. #thankyoutaker.

5. Posted by a fan. Blew up, along with the hash tag, toturting Leon Michaels

Caption- When they are a powerful sibling duo and they are the most successful and have the most fun when it comes to torturing Leon. (Even if Leon always gets revenge) atleast they always look good doing it.

6. Posted by a fan, reblogged by everyone including wwe official account. Blew up. And reblows up everytime someone reblogs it.

Caption- 'When his eyes turn from his usual siren to doe eyes? That's when your truly in danger' - Roman Reigns when asked about Leon's sudden change to baby face and whether he believes Leon is still a threat. Also who knew baby face Leon would be so submissive and breedable? Like damn, thanks drew.

7. Posted by a fan. Cassie always rblogs their stuff.

Caption- In honor of the trauma duo winning hottest wrestlers of the year, them being the king and queen they are.

8. Posted by a fan

Caption- The gayest man in the company and he had all our mom's in the 90s eating out of his hand and now, in the present time, he and his kids have us eating out of their hands still. The original beauty of wwe and he gifted us with future generations of beauty's. Thank you Shawn.

9. Me when the trauma duo go through more trauma because vince hasn't learnt- 👁👄👁.

Like give them a break vinnie. They deserve better than this. The fact Leon and John have a normal (well kinda) duo name, the same for cassie and John and then we have cassie and Leon, the trauma duo, hurts my heart.

#wwe #shawn michaels #the undertaker #wwf #hbtaker #undertaker x shawn michaels #shawn x undertaker #leon michaels #drew mcintyre #john cena #cassidy michaels #alexa bliss #the family of destruction #the scottish warrior and the skeleton king #tik toks

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scorching-passion · 5 months

Text

@ghostofnibelheim Continued from here

It all happened so fast, a blinding flash, the single flutter of the eye. And yet so slowly, agonisingly so, as if time itself saw fit to gift him the pleasure of witnessing the sheer magnificence of carnage itself, the devastation wrought by the glittering steel nestled deep in the grip of the First Class SOLDIER’s palm.

Death incarnate. Atrocious and barbaric. A vision of awe-inspiring blistering beauty if he ever did see it. A spectacle of which froze the air in his lungs and brought his blood to the boil.

Even the mark carved into the ground, only inches from his very being, was simply another fantastical thing to see. The deep ice cold ache in his chest, swelling from deeper still to know in that moment that he had been a mere single breath from utter annihilation... There was something exhilarating about this moment; a moment which had woken something up inside the young infantryman, something hot and wild, fluttering in the belly.

Breath-taking… was possibly putting it mildly. Trapped in his dreamlike state, all he was able to do was stare. Roche had never known anything in his relatively short life as gorgeous as this; the splendour of a warrior with the power to take down the gods themselves. Such grace and finery, such little effort to triumph over mountainous creatures that seemed to rattle even the cohort who pulled him back.

There was no fear here, no cause to feel it, only the white-hot admiration for this SOLDIER First Class and the power he wielded in which Roche found he so desperately needed.

Shiva, have mercy, for his soul was surely on fire. Fate had brought these people to him today, for this moment, this memory of which Roche was certain he was not likely to ever forget.

Purpose stood before him now, cloaked so perfectly in his gown of polished silver and midnight black. A legend amongst men, the greatest of all SOLDIER.

Difficult to fathom, impossible in fact merely remembering the moment the hulking creature set before them simply… fell apart. A writhing grisly spectacle of death itself, and Roche would gaze upon the sight before him in a state of unadulterated, horrified wonderment. There was no sense of feeling right then, even the light shove to garner his attention was reciprocated with a slow turn of his head and a wide doe eyed expression. And senses did not truly begin to come screaming back to him until the moment the taller cohort to their rear began to bellow his orders.

The clarity of the world around him, the immense gravity of that one, singular, life changing moment, so intense it was nauseating, and yet it felt for the very first time since setting foot on the hard soils here in Wutai that the fog had finally lifted. For the first time in his life, he could finally see. Hear. Feel.

His birthright had finally been realised.

He wanted that power, the strength to cut down his enemies with a single swing- To lift the bodies of the fallen unto his shoulders and carry them home.

‘I’m not strong enough to lift him anyway…’ SOLDIER called for him, the sweetest siren song, one he was unable to resist. A need so unbelievably strong already invading and rooting into the very marrow of his bones.

A quick glance over the second cohort’s shoulder, the glint of that brassy pommel resting at his back before bright eyes would shift back to the dull sheen of his helm, and followed closely by a single - albeit confident - nod of his head.

“Loud and clear, sir.” was all he said. Sans the snark, without pomp and sarcasm. A basic submission and promise of future obedience in the wake of this latest display of glorious brutality.

And with a strong upward tug of his pack they trudged onward, Roche’s sights squared firmly then on the man in black and his legendary pulchritudinous blade in hand. He would keep his distance... for now.

#ghostofnibelheim #Relentless: MAIN THREAD #I had to start this on fresh posts because I'm no longer able to edit the original.

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torchwoodfanfests · 2 years

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▦ The 2022 Bingo Fest Masterpost ▦

Thank you to all those who participated in the 2022 Bingo Fest! We hope you had fun!

You can browse all the submissions for this fest under the cut, and check out the AO3 collection here!

If you’d like to give feedback on this or any past fests, or make a suggestion for the future, you can fill out our survey to let us know!

@beckettjay

FIC

Okay Seems So Distant

episode tag, epistolary

A Ptero-ble Surprise

pets, surprise

He Waits

waiting, red

Left Behind

bed sharing

@booleman

FIC

Black & Blue

Black and Blue

@celstese

ART

Miracle day

genderbend

Prison/prison break

Waiting

red

Ianto and Lisa pre series au

fluff, pets

body swap/shapeshifters

Chocolate

outer space

bed sharing

weapon

FIC

untitled Jack and Clive meetings

conspiracy theorists

@glitch-in-space

EDIT

Moodboard for the prompts 'Sweet(/Sour)' and '(Summer/)Winter'

Sweet(/Sour), (Summer/)Winter

Moodboard for an AU in which Ianto Jones was recruited by UNIT instead of T1

UNIT

Moodboard for an imaginary fic entitled 'The Lost Art of Murder'

Dark

Moodboard for a dark au in which Ianto seduces Torchwood's leader

Inconvenient crush

Moodboard in which Owen and Tosh actually got to go on that date

First Date, Food

Moodboard of Ianto's canon depression and trauma

Mental Health

Moodboard for 4 of Jack's canon-confirmed kinks

Kinks

Moodboard for season 1 Jack pining after 'his' Doctor

Pining

Moodboard of Tommy

Tommy Brockless

Small moodboard for an AU in which Gwen goes missing after being Retconned

Missing, Canon Divergence

Moodboard for King of the Weevils Owen

Authority

Moodboard for an AU where everything's the same but Ianto's secretly a Siren

Water

Moodboard for an AU in which Ianto leaves little notes in his favourite books in his favourite bookshop

Meet Cute

A small janto moodboard for the 'Public Displays of Affection' square

Public Displays of Affection

Moodboard for janto having a movie date

Day Off Work

A Something Borrowed moodboard for the 'Pregnancy' square

Pregnancy

A Ianto Jones Countrycide whump moodboard

Injury

YTNW moodboard

Set between s1 and s2, DW companion cameo

An Adam Moodboard for Jack's past

Boeshane

@greendreamer

ART

Meeting your sister-in-law

Meet the Family

What if, instead of arriving in the Hub, Gray ended up in the middle of the chaos

Exit Wounds Fix it

FIC

An Injury to one is an Injury to all

coe fix-it au, the fairies

@horselover107

EDIT

Torchwood: the Year That Never Was

Year That Never Was, Chance Meetings, Betrayal

Dinner and a Show

Team Bonding, Big Finish

FIC

Case File 69

blue

Let me Keep You Warm

cold/warm, quarantine/virus

Malpractice

Rupesh Patanjali, “I can explain”, bullet wound

Tosh’s Adventures in Babysitting

deaging/aging up, oc

A Gift from Me to You

gifts, resurrection gauntlet, fantasy

PLAYLIST

Dinner and a Show: A Fanmix

Under the Influence Square

@juette

FIC

Lifesigns

"i'm fine", trust/trust issues, episode tag/missing scene, angst

VIDEO

Like a Star

bar/karaoke

Doubt

nightmare, touch

heat waves

red

@meese-running-after-geese

EDIT

A moodboard off of the concept of “What if Adam won”

under the influence

Torchwood Phone Backgrounds

Big Finish Audios

FIC

Jokes and a Ring, or something like that...

gifts, clothes/outfit, polyam/consensual nonmonogamy, fantasy

Spilling the Beans

Andy Davidson

@melodyandpond

FIC

Cruising* all the way - Chapter 1

nosy coworkers

Cruising* all the way - Chapter 2

day off work

Fish and Kinks

food, kink discussion

@monstermince

FIC

Flower Power

Femslash, plants/vegetables, crossover (the Backyardigans).

you give cannibalism a bad name

John Hart, dead/death

@my-ghost-monument

EDIT

The Year That Never Was: When Martha met Ianto Jones

The Year That Never Was, chance meetings

Night Sky Camping

camping

A Blast From The Future

dopplegangers, betrayal

FIC

new experiences

I can explain!, exposed and fantasy

verdant

time loop, Myfanwy

@night-terrors-official

ART

Torchwood: Saint Lucia - the start of something new

domesticity

Sam Ryder trans moodboard

character(s) of your choice is trans

Finally Free

music/dancing

EDIT

Weretiger!Sam moodboard

werewolves/vampires

John Hart; Pansexual Villain moodboard

John Hart

@princess-of-the-worlds

FIC

where the hea(r)t is

interspecies romance, cold/warm, cultural differences, "clothes/outfit

the city on the edge of forever

healing

when does a monster become one

betrayal, immortality, secrets, exposed

the past forgotten

bullet wounds, coffee/coffee shop, mission-related trip, teenage years/ianto's criminal past, myfanwy/untitled the dog/steve the rat, big finish audio or tw novel tag or au

@sammys-magical-au

FIC

Someone to Watch Over Me

backstory, the fairies, the time agency, hurt/comfort

Caught in a Trap (I Won’t Walk Out)

anger, friendship

Captured in Stone

Suzie Costello, family

The Life of Sam

dead/death

They Do Tend to Come in Pairs

Martha Jones, alien tech/future tech

An Expected Encounter

crossover

Celebrated Guests of the Lietea

benign alien visitors

@secretartquotes

EDIT

Owen Harper Pink Moodboard

pink

Welcome to Hearthy

food, team tardis

An AU where Lisa works for UNIT instead of Torchwood One

different first meeting/meet cute, UNIT, public displays of affection, lisa hallet/katie russell/tommy brockless

The Long Awaited Comeback of Torchwood Four

Torchwood 2 / Torchwood 4, kidnapping, canon divergence

@shejustcalledmeafish

FIC

Scared of You

secrets, beach/mountains/outdoor activities

THB Drabbles

de-aging/aging up, coffee/coffee shop, bullet wounds, diary, clothes/outfit

La Mort L’aime

gifts

When Did Your Heart Go Missing

betrayal, cold/warm

@torchwood-99

VIDEO

Gwen & Rhys- Giants in the Sky

creatures and cryptids, space whale/janet the weevil, surprise, episode tag/missing scene, conspiracy theorists, compassion

No One Is Alone-Into the Woods

help/asking for help, angst, compassion

@toshsato

ART

Captain Jack Harkness the Crow Kidnaps Toshiko’s Sandwich

Kidnapping

EDIT

I don't want to put you through this. Last night, I dreamt that you left me.

Katie Russell

TORCHWOOD ONE, TWO, THREE, AND FOUR

Torchwood 2 / Torchwood 4

Torchwood: Adam

meet cute

TORCHWOOD: ADAM

boeshane

FIC

A Little Bit Torchwood

Dark, Green, Food, Summer, Canon-Divergence, Wedding

Bilis Manger, the Demon, and the River

Bilis Manger, Water

Horns and Horniness

first kiss/first date, public displays of affection, doctor's orders

Happy Birthday, Ianto Jones

cooking

The not so good trip to Sunnydale

kids

Please stay with me and don't you leave me alone

dw companion cameo, authority, sex talk

I don't wanna judge him but

truth pollen, "take me instead"

Forever is the Sweetest Con

pregnancy, mental health

@ultraviolet-eucatastrophe

FIC

Sweet and Sour

food, sweet/sour, pregnancy, canon divergence, hug

Keep my head under the waves

Boeshane, water

It could last a long time (it could even last forever)

fake dating/fake marriage, nosy coworkers

No time like the present

kids, public displays of affection, missing

@violetmessages

ART

bedsharing

Scandalous Victorian Gwen portrait

trapped together, memories

It takes a little convincing but soon Gwen is as ruthless as Suzie is

fluff, breaking the rules

weapons

What happens when Jack gets wasted

tattoo/memento, torchwood logo

AU where they don’t get Gwen out of the cyberconverter in time

cybermen/daleks, episode tag/missing scene

AU where Rhys is a thief who runs into one of those castles with magical hair girls in them

misunderstanding, rhys williams

Now that’s a woman who’s the center of the universe

outer space

The Rift can refuel the TARDIS

trying to change the timeline, everybody lives au, “i’m fine”

I’ve already been barred from about twenty pubs

tarot girl/adam smith/mary

FIC

brand new eyes

yvonne hartman/detective swanson/agent johnson, compassion

#torchwood fan fests #torchwood fan fests masterpost #torchwood bingo fest 2022 #torchwood bingo fest 2022 fanworks #torchwood bingo fest 2022 masterpost #torchwood

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