#vialshipping

[sunnydr0pp]

light

[ninyakun]

Grisham + Corbeau

[hakuaclovers]

Late night lasso tooling uwu and fuck it I’m using my own ych to uwu… the mafia bosses uwu…. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Slowly feeling my way through designing Mafia Boss! Corbeau uwu

“Ah… fascinating… so your teeth truly are like that….” - Mafia Boss! Grisham probably

Uwu I love homoerotic rivalries 🥰💕💕haha who said that

[godserene]

Corbeau just wants to be a sugar daddy is that too much to ask

[godflve]

corbeau and grisham talk business (its a date) commission for my beloved @ninyakun

[freakyscientist]

God. I'm picturing what it would be like for reader and Grisham to be arm candy for Corbeau.

Both of you sitting on either side of Corbeau during his meetings. Corbeau has a hand on each of your waists.

Just the sheer amount of potential smut is driving me nuts (don't even get me started on the domestic fluff).

Okay so I had so much fun with this concept it got out of hand and is going to have multiple parts now, the reader shows up on the next one. As is, it's currently set in my Rust Syndicate Grisham AU.

CW: Mafia bullshit, Corbeau orders someone killed and Philippe does it.

"I have been far more generous than you ever deserved."

Grisham closed his eyes, leaning his head on Corbeau's shoulder and listening to the threatening tone in his voice like it was the most soothing sound in the world. The client looked terrified, beyond it really, like a cornered prey animal who just realised there was no way to run.

And with how he seemed so unwilling to pay what he owed, that might just be the case.

Pity, Grisham thought, he was an amusing one to watch. Out of all the negotiations Corbeau had dragged him into, this client was the one who put up the best show.

"I just hate it when my pets have to witness blood being spilled, you know?" Corbeau traced the line of Grisham's spine with his fingers, pausing at the nape of his neck to pull him closer, a hand coming to rest over his thighs. Tracing the cutouts at his hips, the silver belt with the Syndicate's sigil.

Grisham nuzzled into the crook of his neck, face hidden save for the vaguest hint of a smile. "I can close my eyes."

The rumble of his laughter felt like such a reward, as comforting as the weight of his hand on the nape of Grisham’s neck. Holding him in place so that even if he did open his eyes, there’d be nothing to see but the darkness of his hair.

“You’ve always been too eager for bloodshed, my sweet Grisham.” Corbeau pressed a kiss to his jaw, warm and slow. “Very well then, Philippe get it over with quick.”

Grisham peppered a few kisses over Corbeau’s neck as the man screamed, the sound of broken bones following shortly after it faded into nothing.

“Stay still, love.” Corbeau whispered, holding Grisham tighter against him. “Don’t look until it’s all clear. And, bring the next one in if you will, Philippe.”

[wegotfoodathome]

My thoughts on Corbeau X Grisham bc I love blurting my thoughts out like they’re all correct and canon (bc they are. Btw./j)

Corbeau wanted to be close with Grisham.

If anyone understood being abandoned by Lysandre, surely it’d be him- a man he’d been decently acquainted with- and misery loves company.

Oh how wrong he was.

Grisham kicked Corbeau away instantly. He told Corbeau that he didn’t understand his woes, he was never a member of team flare, and that they were not friends nor even allies.

“Besides, don’t you a get-rich-quick scheme to be running?”

Corbeau doesn’t stay where he is not wanted.

He kept his tabs on Team Flare Nouveau as it rose from the ashes, even supporting their growing business a few times. Grisham acted like they’d never met before.

Grisham didn’t like Corbeau.

Corbeau was hand selected by Lysandre, something not even Grisham was given the privilege of- and he was a fucking team flare member.

Then Corbeau approached him, a year or so after everything went to shit, and tried to act like he knew what it was like to be at the lowest point of his life.

“We’re not so different, you and I?”

Grisham was nothing like Corbeau.

He watched the Rust Syndicate grow from the sidelines as people got tied in binding contracts and were forced to clean trash from the streets. Literally, with garbage bags in hand and gloves to pick up the trash floating in the wind.

Somewhere along the way, as they both grew older with the years, Grisham figured out that maybe they weren’t so different; they both wanted to do good after being hurt by a man they admired.

Grisham let Corbeau get a little closer, and a little closer, and even more so after that. They shared a cigarette on a rooftop by the cafe, and Grisham felt…good.

Corbeau felt blissful, in a way he never had.

They began sharing texts, and smokes, and drinks, and dinner.

Grisham had a depressive attack, and Corbeau showed up before Grisham had even called him. Corbeau had a horrible day at work, and Grisham brought him his favorite coffee.

One night, after drinks, they kissed. The next morning they woke up in the same bed, their glasses tangled on the table beside the bed. That was where their glasses came to stay each following night.

[atropazar]

I'm unwell about them and have so many thoughts. In dire need of more vialshipping toxic yaoi ft @otterlykath's beau