#* the real fight = inner circle *

[chickensauras]

Ok listen. I just have *some thoughts*. Thoughts I can't articulate. So I drew this instead :U

Ref image is from ch. 6

[flightofaqrow]

Listen, the sheer amount of "I'm so sorry for my husband rn (but I still stand by him)" radiating off of Qrow and Glynda in this tiny interaction.

Like, I get that the homoerotic tension between Qrow and Ironwood or even Qrow and Winter kind of takes center stage, but lord. The vibes are strong.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: NSFW, dubcon, bathroom sex, bullying, overall just really filthy smut, virgin insert, virginity loss, somewhat dom reader, somewhat bully reader, somewhat yandere reader

♡ FEM reader

You look like one of those girls that never smiles. Like, if he were to take that empty seat next to you in the lecture hall, you’d scowl with stink eyes and then proceed to fully ignore him. Yeah, a real bitch. That's what you look like—scary. He bets all your socials are filled with the same picture—the same deadpanned pouty face over and over, every single one with hundreds of likes and comments saying “Wow, babe!” followed by a dozen emojis from besties and horny admirers. Selfies in the mirror, showing off skin in your tight tops and short skirts—similar to the outfit you’re wearing now. Captions saying, “You can look, but you could never touch.” Yeah, he bets you’re a real attention whore. And the worst part is that you’re not even overselling, either. You’re gorgeous—even with that sour look on your face, he’d pay cold, hard-earned cash in exchange for a pair of your worn panties.

Yeah, there’s no way he’d dare sit next to you. He’s already sweating bullets just thinking about it. Even though you’re one in a million similar girls who wouldn’t give him the time of day, he's still one in a million loser incels who would do anything for it. And that’s the cold reality.

Even if he’d like to get just a whiff of your sweet perfume, he can’t. The status quo forbids it. He’s afraid the jocks will smell fresh blood in the water the moment he does, then swarm him in a matter of seconds, circling before tearing him to shreds. They’d beat him to a pulp in the bathroom, smash his head in over the sink—piss in the toilet, then flush it down with his bloodied face—and he’d have to walk reeking of it all the way home.

So, no—he really can’t sit next to you. 

But no other seats are available, and the lecture is starting soon… 

Why did absolutely everyone decide to show up today?

Oh fuck it, this isn’t high school. College bullies surely don’t bother with petty cases like this, right? They’re all about their frat initiations and rivalries to have enough spare time to beat him up over improper seating. Oh, but what if you’re one of their girlfriends—you’ll tell on him, and then he’ll definitely be beaten up, maybe even killed.

No. He’s overthinking—like always. No one is that mean. If you don’t like him sitting there, you’ll just tell him. And he’ll move. No harm done. Right? He’s not sitting in the stairwell when there’s a perfectly good and empty seat right there, right? Is he?

Yes. Yes, he is. 

“Hey, if you’re looking for a seat, this one’s empty,” a sweet voice calls out over his inner monologue, making him clutch the strap of his bookbag tighter with a flinch of his entire rigid body—his eyes peeled as he looked around to try and find the source of the sound even though he knew where it had come from. It’s as if the possibility of your voice sounding like anything aside from a she-demon was out of the question. But no, it is you. 

But there’s no way you’re talking to him, so he looks around again—there must be someone else in need of the seat aside from him. But then, why are you looking right at him? Are you pulling some type of prank? Are you really that cruel? You’re probably filming him or something—live-streaming—the chat’s blaring with ew, what a creep and omg, uggo alert right about now. He should just go home before the jocks, along with the rest of the internet, can get him.

“Are you okay?” you ask—but no, he must be hearing you wrong—there’s just no way, even though you’re looking right at him. “I think it’s starting soon—you should probably sit.”

It’s as if his fight or flight response is broken because he does the exact opposite of either—as if on autopilot, sitting down in a rush against his better judgment.

The lecture starts shortly, solidifying his choice, but he can’t pay attention. No, he needs to keep his guard up. Any second now, someone’s going to do a drive-by and throw a milkshake at him or something vile of the like, and you’ll have filmed it all even though he can’t spot you holding a phone—and then the entire hall would burst into laughter at his expense.

“Pst—” A soft whisper comes from next to him, from between the gloss of your pretty lips. You smell like candy and fruit, and it makes his gut tighten—both from anxiety and something more shameful. “I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have a pen I could borrow? Mine’s all out’a ink.”

You give him an awkward smile, and he very nearly runs away. But no, he’s glued to the seat—with nervously wrecked hands shaking as he bends for his bag and unzips it, reaching for his pencil case painfully slow as if disarming some type of bomb. Redoing the same when he opens the case and rummages for a viable pen he could offer.

When he hands it to you, he’s almost sure you plan to stab him with it. But you do no such thing.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver!” You cheer instead, beaming with a much brighter smile than before. “I owe you!”

His ears ring with your praise. Blushing beat red as he rips away from your gaze—still unable to focus on what the professor is preaching—not when from out of the corner of his eye, he can see you sucking on his pen like a lollypop—or something else not so innocent.

Oh, he’d been so wrong.

So, so, so very wrong.

You do smile. You smile a lot, actually. You just have one of those faces that rests bitchy. But still, bubbly airhead or not, a girl like you still shouldn't be seen with a loser like him. It’s social suicide. And still, you’re on your knees before him in a dirty little bathroom stall—the same dirty bathroom stall he feared getting a swirlie, scraping the walls with his nails to try and thwart his assailants—only, now clutching the walls for a much different reason, holding on for his mortal soul as you seek to suck it out of his fat throbbing cock.

You want to repay him—you’d said—for the pencil. He hadn't understood why you’d winked at him before you’d all but dragged him off and flung him inside the men’s bathroom, having his very life flash before his eyes.

You both make the sloppiest sounds as you make an utter mess on and of him, making him cry on all fronts—cock weeping with thick pearly beads of pre while his eyes well up with tears down his flushed face, all sweaty with panic and bliss. 

The moans springing from his chest are virginal and raw and sweet music to your ears, panting for you like a puppy—you’re sure they can hear him out in the hallway when passing by. One of his hands clasps itself on top of his mouth, holding tightly to keep it all within—eyes shut and brows cinched. And yet, he makes no effort to shove you off—hips left jerking and jittering in response to your refined technique where you take him deeply, all the way down to the base, hallowing your cheeks, throttling him with your throat as your tongue wipes his creamy slit clean.

It’s painfully clear he’s never experienced anything like it, but that’s what turns you on the most. Sick as you are, you could suck him dry and savor every drop of him, knowing you’re the first ever to get a taste. But no, by now, your pussy’s so soaked you feel yourself dripping past the soggy lace of your panties, running down your soft thighs in waste.

He’s misty-eyed when you pull off with an ever-cruel pop—a sick mix of relief and sorrow warping his chest, feeling conflicted by the pulse making him think he’s on the verge of a heart attack if you continue—and another strumming his cock, making him think he’s going to keel over and die if you leave him unfinished.

Even so, he’s in a state of complete shell shock as you mount him on top of the toilet seat he’s melting against. Chest heaving, watching you as you lift your skirt up and peal your slick underwear to the side for him to lay his bleary swiveled eyes on your bared and dripping pussy.

“I love nice guys like you—” you moan, pouring the honeyed words down his throat as you ghost his parted lips with your spit-slicked ones, straddling his lap and shimmying ever closer until your tits squish against his chest. “They make me so wet, I lose all self-control.” 

He gulps in your shadow, looking up at you for mercy—cock twitching painfully between your thighs as your wrap your hand around his base real snug, giving him a nice tug as you line him up with your needy heat—making him all but squeal beneath you.

Your other hand makes its way into his hair, braiding your fingers within the locks to hold him steady—gently pulling his head back while leering down at him like caught prey. Playing with him just so, teasing him with your words, all in your sultry voice, making his head spin hot with a fever, “You’ll be a good boy and fuck me, won’t you? Pretty please?”

His breaths are heavy and wet, coming out shaky with his instant answer, “Y-yes—” all weak in a pathetic whimper that almost has you cum too soon.

“You’re so nice~ thank you,” you croon against his lips, kissing him sloppily with your tongue in his mouth as you shift your hips and start lowering your sopping cunt down upon his seeking length, taking him in with greedy ease, eagerly gripping his soft cockhead like a toy in a claw machine.

“Fhu—fuck—” he stutters under his breath, whinging before planting his teeth into his lip to keep it at bay—feeling like putty beneath you, sweaty and heavy and dumb, eagerly wanting all which you sought to give him—only more flushed at your mean undertones as you play with him like food on a silver platter.

You sling your arms around his neck and push your chest harder against him, moaning all too brazenly, “Oh! Fuck yes—that’s so good,” you sing while slowly taking him in further. “A nice guy with a big bad bully’s dick is the best!” 

He whines in return as his inches get eaten—each devoured one by one until his tip kneads into the mouth of your womb.

Sighing happily, you kiss his cheek and put your lips right at his ear with another wanton whimper, “You fill me up so so good.” Roosting on the size, thighs resting flush against his, feeling all giddy as it stretches you out oh-so-nicely. “Such a good toy-cock for me,” keening at the way it twitches inside you, pulsing in response to your tight walls, clenching it in ways it’s never before felt.

His eyes are already rolling back into his skull once you start lolling your hips—riding him, but keeping him deep at all times—lifting just enough for it to pull out only a little before sinking back down, making it settle into that perfect needy little spot inside you that makes your whole body shiver in delight.

“Mmh,” You suck his ear lobe, releasing it with a soft bite, before smiling down at him and his sweat-pilled expression. Cooing at him, “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

He can’t even answer with words anymore, only giving a dumb mewl as he nods his head. But, of course, you’re already well aware.

“Mmh—” your eyes gleam with delight, giving his lap a mean ride, leaving him all but breathless, before asking, “D’you like it, virgin boy? ‘You like my pussy? Like the way it milks your chubby cock for your cum?”

He nods again, even more eagerly this time—looking downright pathetic in every sense of the word.

“Do you want to?” you offer to his desperation, feeling as though he’s falling apart at your fingertips, needing you to hold him together. “I’ll let you since you’re such a sweet guy—” you tease while clenching his cock, making it impossible to want anything else no matter the consequence. “In exchange for a favor, of course.”

He couldn’t care less what the favor was—way beyond willing to pay any price you ask of him as he finally makes a move and grabs your hips with a strength you hadn’t thought he had the balls to perform, planting you down firmly and holding you with such need as his hips jitter and stutter—resting his cheek on your shoulder in drool and tears with a lovesick groan leaving him as he fills your pussy up with his creamy spend.

His whole body shakes—spasming in cute little aftershocks as he clutches onto your body, hugging you tightly.

You respond in kind, cuddling him and kissing the top of his head. “That was so warm and filling—what a good boy—you did so well,” you murmur ever-sweetly while petting his head, combing through his sweaty locks with your long glitter-pink nails—keeping your voice saccharine. “Did you enjoy yourself, hm? Your first time cumming in pussy instead of your dirty ol’ sock?”

You pick his face up—cupping his sloppy jaw in both palms—his eyes half-mast and glazed as you nose-kiss him with a smile on your face.

“You loved it, didn’t you? Silly virgin boy…”

Your cunt tingles at the sight of him—wrecked beauty, sweaty and undone. You feel his cock unswell inside you and decide to lift off and release him—letting it flop out and splat on his tummy in a puddle of slick.

“Look,” you fuss, holding his face in direction of it. “You made such a pretty mess—isn’t it lovely?”

Your pussy is left glistening and puffy, still wanting and waiting for its final hurrah. Your breath turns headier and so does your voice, now with a new darkness to it as  you whisper, “Time for that favor, sweet boy.” 

He blinks dumbly, impossibly hopeless, wrapped so tightly around your pinky it’s pitiful. Of course, you take advantage—guiding his head to level with your cunt. 

“Open wide, tongue out flat.”

He obeys wordlessly. And oh god it makes your gut stir viscously—watching his tongue loll free between parted lips.

Your voice flares with bliss at the sight, shy of unhinged, as you giggle breathily, “That’s right—taste the pretty mess you made.”

He’s pushed face-first, trapped between your thighs with his jaw like an open cup beneath you, tonguing the mixed slick from your slit and slurping it all up without shame.

And fuck—it feels so good, you lose even more of your mind while tugging him even closer—all but pulling him off the toilet seat, making him kneel down on the floor instead. And still, he makes no effort to escape, but the opposite—seeking to go deeper into your cunt, crying into you as he laps up every last drop of yours and his arousal—making your thighs quake around him, grinding down against his mouth, onto his eager tongue, having it pet your clit over and over until you also come to the same sudden stumbling halt.

“Yes—yes! Oh, fuck! I’m gonna—it’s coming—”

And there it goes, ripping along your loins, surging from your lower belly. With both your hands tangled harshly in his hair, he’s not going anywhere, lips locked with yours as it starts pouring.

You’re squirting on him—hot and hard—on his tongue, inside his mouth, down his throat, in his belly. You’re squirting on him and he’s drinking it, he realizes—but even so, he isn’t able to stop. Instead, he unwinds his jaw even wider, digs his tongue deeper, and accepts every drop of the warm stream as it drenches his face and splashes down his collar and shoulders, utterly soaking his shirt, making in see-through as it clings to his chest like a second skin.

You’ve closed your eyes and thrown your head back, basking in every last little twitch of your body as you relieve yourself all over his face.

Finally, after a moment, you let go of his hair and step back—feeling refreshed and happy with your work—seeing the poor loser sit before the toilet, all drenched and exhausted with his limp cock spent and messy, looking like a beautiful wreck.

You smile, pulling your panties back in place, and you skirt down again before unlocking the stall and opening the door, only looking back at him for a moment, tapping your nail at a few matching pink scribbles written on the wall. “Here’s my number and address if you wanna have more fun." And then you leave, just like that. "Bye-bye~”

♡ BNHA – Amajiki, Deku, Shigaraki, Shinso ♡ JJK – Yuuta, Choso, Nanami ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Kenma ♡ CSM – Denji ♡ BLLK – Isagi ♡ DS – Zenitsu ♡ WB – Sakura, Nirei

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[jayflrt]

yours forever in 786

PAIRING ▸ private investigator!jay park x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ social media au (smau), smut, fluff, angst, mystery, drama, enemies to lovers au, college au, rich kid au

SUMMARY ▸ after being blackmailed into accepting an assignment, jay park, a young private detective, is thrown back into college. this time, though, he’s at an ivy league and tasked to follow you to uncover what dark secrets your old money family is hiding. in doing this, jay must fraternize with your inner circle by joining a secret society called the "order of kryptos.” what he doesn’t realize is that the deeper he gets into his mission, the more he starts to lose himself.

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, slowburn, alcohol/drug consumption, portrayals of addiction, sexual jokes, sexual content, betrayals!! backstabbing!!, toxic relationships, order of kryptos isn’t a real secret society but heavily inspired by the ivy league secret societies, emotional cheating (BOOOO! not from mc or jay tho), jay and mc have a small age gap (2 years), most of the characters are pretty toxic so please note that this is not attune to their real life personalities at ALL

UPDATE SCHEDULE ▸ every day

PLAYLIST ▸ fatal trouble by enhypen • still sane by lorde • this is what makes us girls by lana del rey • too good by troye sivan • paparazzi by lady gaga • old money by lana del rey • i was never there by the weeknd, gesaffelstein • prisoner by the weeknd, lana del rey

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello !! i’m back with another smau but this one’s less lighthearted and more heavy ? sort of an experiment let's see how it goes, but hope u enjoy and lmk what u think !! ♡

CHATROOMS !

TEASER

PROFILES ONE | TWO

ACT ONE: THE TRANSFER

01. skip tracer to millionaire pipeline

02. besties with testes

03. who the fuck is princessyuna

04. the world of the elite

05. please don't the tom nook

06. standing on business (vlog boycott)

07. friend (noun.) not heeseung

08. boo boo the fool

09. professional haters debut

10. 21 jump street for nepo babies

11. how to not bleed to death

12. jay/n train

13. leather jacket

14. no goodbye sucks or fucks

15. ugly truths

16. girlfriend but the girl is silent

17. justice for stress shitters

18. alcohol shortage when

ACT TWO: THE INVITATION

19. attention seeker

20. and there was one bed

21. every boy for himself

22. rhymes with loona

23. out-testosteroned

24. white lies

25. heart-to-heart

26. the athenaeum

27. sock sock shoe shoe

28. group ass fucking

29. post defamation dinner date

30. final verdict

31. do you have time to talk about our lord and savior

32. tap to get tapped back

33. mad as fuck (the remix)

34. in too deep

35. change my world

36. provisional fight club

37. go piss girl

38. girlhood won

39. we can't do this

40. pledge week

41. babygirls with daddy issues

42. they must be really good friends

43. hot jay summer

44. dangerous entanglements

45. the fifth interview candidate

UNCUTS !

TBD.

ONGOING 7/29/24

[drenched-in-sunlight]

i don’t think it’s talked about enough that the reason there’s a Godwyn ending where he becomes a Lord (not a God) is because symbolically, he was mirroring Godfrey in more than just name.

Godwyn’s alive body sprouting fish tail and scales isn’t just a random design choice, it’s a reference to Confucius' The Book of Rites, where it’s stated that the subjugation of the Four Divine Beasts will grant the person who tamed them different kind of control:

- Dragon -> control over animals with scales (specifically, FISH. See?)

- Qilin (Lion) -> control over beasts (think of how the Hornsent coveting the power of the Crucibles via the lion dance ritual. The “lion” in lion dance is Qilin in the native language of Asian countries that celebrate that tradition. And it’s why Godfrey’s symbol is a lion, why lion imagery plays such important role in Elden Ring world)

- Phoenix -> control over birds

- Turtle -> control over the heart of men (this might be a reach but Miquella’s connection to the Carian family and thus, the Turtle Pope could be a nice parallel to this)

in Godfrey’s cut dialogues, he said “Dearest Marika is precisely what I must take back” and “Dear Marika, do not fear. I am returned.”, and even without all that, The Talisman of Lord’s Bestowal stated that Godfrey accepted his duty without any sign of wavering, even taking Serosh upon his back so he could conduct himself as a Lord worthy of her. Bro, he loves that girl, he passed Messmer’s vibe check with flying colors.

For Godwyn to be a fruit of such a loving union, i do think Godfrey instilled in him a sense of duty to protect his Mother, and there’s his own love and devotion to her as well. Leyndell Knights all use Dragon Cult incantations and buffs - the kind of power that is only available to them because Godwyn befriended Fortissax (which is why i said that move has an ulterior motive to it).

All of that brings me to this main point I’m trying to make: does Godwyn really that devoid of agency?

I see it’s a popular interpretation in the fandom that oh Godwyn was just a symbol, he had no voice, we never knew what he wanted, etc etc… Do we really not know though?

Sorry for slapping another fandom on this, but this is really relevant to my understanding of Elden Ring as a story, even with the base written by a Western author, was developed by a Japanese team of storytellers and designers:

The concept of soul - body and body snatching etc etc exists a lot in Asian media, and there’s always a general consensus that the body remembers even as the soul perishes. What is Godwyn’s body is doing? The game specifically states that his body is alive. He only perishes in soul.

He was infesting the Erdtree’s roots, spreading Death around like free real estate. If he wanted to let go of life, of his Mother, his body should have just let go on its own. But no, he was tenaciously clinging to the Erdtree, to Marika.

Even Fortissax remembrance stated that despite its best effort, it could not fight back the Death within its friend. If Godwyn really, truly wanted to embrace a true death, would his body just let Fortissax fight alone in an uphill battle like that?

Then there is the DLC revealed that Godwyn’s personal knights were in LoS to find and guard his cadaver surrogate, specifically for the Age of the Duskborn. Their helm stated that their loyalty to him is unbroken. So will they just go and do something that their Master would not want?

These Knights are literally an elite circle that was bestowed the most precious of jewels in Godfrey’s time (the +3 medallions), they aren’t merely good, they are the very best. They are Godwyn’s inner circle the same way the Fire Knights are said to be the ones who know Messmer best.

Even if you think Fia and Those Who Lived in Death were just taking advantage of Godwyn’s death… her endgame goal technically did not even succeed. She wanted to be Mother to TWLiD, but the ending very much shows that the Mending Rune was returned to Marika’s womb. It’s her who would birth Godwyn a second life, so the True Mother™ to TWLiD… would actually be Marika 💀

Like, am i the only one who saw this as some real crazy 4D chess Uno reverse move from Godwyn? Oh these ppl wanted to get rid of him then took advantage of his body? Fine, he would take that challenge and run a mile with it. If Age of Duskborn came, it meant Ranni didn’t succeed, Fia didn’t actually get to be Mother of TWLiD, Death - the very thing that Marika tried to seal, would now be something within her control, because Godwyn is its Lord now. Exactly like how the Dragons’ power became something wielded in Marika’s favor in the end. Thanks to him.

In the Duskborn ending, bro, the God would still be Marika. It’s the only possible new Age involving a demigod that doesn’t get rid of her. Even if it utilize heretical powers to get there.

And the crazier thing? This is not the first time Fromsoft did this, btw.

[rroseselavyyy]

unison - myg

pairing: yoongi x female reader

warnings: smut, yoongi is in his late twenties but has mint hair 👁️👄👁️ breedinggggg kink ofcccc, make up s*x? oral s*x (female receiving)

Yoongi was your first in everything. He was your first real boyfriend since he gave you a red tulip with a shy smirk plastered on his face in kindergarten. You shared your first kiss with him when you were about to kiss his cheek and he turned his head slightly to meet your lips with his. You were even confident enough to ask him to take your virginity whereas he asked you for the thousandth time if you were sure.

It all felt like your own personal fairytale until you felt like it was all coming crashing down. You were constantly fighting over irrelevant things, and each time you fought, you ended up sleeping in different rooms.

You didn't let Yoongi sleep in your bed for about three weeks, saying that Holly would catch a cold if he didn't sleep in a warm bed in this cold weather.

To his ears, this sounded like a lame excuse for not letting him into your bed. He was longing for your touch, and your refusal to let him into bed added to his frustration.

One day, Jungkook came to him and told him that you had insecurities about yourself and that you were always thinking that Yoongi was going to leave you.

Yoongi couldn't understand why you would think he would break up with you when you were the most beautiful thing that ever happened to him.

Then it occurred to him that maybe you were just lonely because he spent so much time in his studio. Maybe you felt neglected because he was late coming home.

He didn't want you to feel that way, so he decided to make it up to you the best way he could, by making love to you. He didn't want to let you slip through his fingers.

"Don't expect me to sleep on the couch tonight-" He looked at you with his dark orbs through your reflection in the mirror, making your tired eyes ringed with dark circles met with his. He sat on the edge of the bed with his legs spread wide, his weight resting on his arms. His heated eyes intently watched the movement of your delicate hands rubbing lotion onto your soft legs. "Holly fell asleep on his bed. Plus I was in the studio for about eight hours, I think I hurt my back."

You had finally finished moisturising your skin, got up from your chair and made your way to the spot between Yoongi's legs. He looked shamelessly at your body under the silk robe, the belt of which was loose enough to give him a perfect view of your breasts, and your body trembled like a leaf in the wind under his gaze.

"It's okay, you can have the bed. I'm not tired yet." You ran your fingers through his mint-colored hair, looking down into his lustful eyes as you slowly pulled at his hair to catch a glimpse of his angelic face.

He looked at you under his lashes like someone under a spell, slender fingers found their way around the silk material of your robe and gave a little tug at your belt, causing your robe to fall down your body and pile up around your feet.

You let out a shaky breath and closed your eyes as he planted wet kisses on your inner thighs, kitten eyes never leaving yours as if you were his sun.

Even though your stubborn self kept warning you not to give in, it had been so long since he had touched you like this. Loved you like this. "I'll be in the living room-"

"No-" His whimper was barely audible, muffled by the hungry kisses planted on your hipbone, tracing a path across your skin. He gripped your thighs tightly as if his life depended on it and pulled you impossibly close to his face, letting his tongue savor the sweet peach aroma that lingered on your skin as he sucked on your sensitive skin.

"I've missed you so much. Please- please just let me have you. I'm tired of fighting over nothing."

You had never seen him so helpless, as if you were his only chance to breathe in an oxygen-deprived room.

You wanted to slap yourself in the face for falling for his tricks again and again, but how could you resist when his touch made you feel so good?

"You can have me, baby. Take what is yours." You didn't have to tell him twice when he suddenly wrapped his arm around the curve of your ass and made you sit on his leg, your shocked scream dying in your throat.

He brought his hand adorned with rings to your cheek, stroking the skin ever so gently. You leaned on his hand with your eyes closed as you planted kisses on his palm as you melted in his embrace.

"I love you so much." He whispered above your lips as he wrapped his free hand around your waist, closing the mere distance between you and him. "You annoy me like no one else, but I love you too much to let you go."

"I'm not annoying." You murmured under your breath as he toyed with your nipples, circling them much to his delight.

You desperately rolled your hips against his leg, trying to find some sort of friction as your arousal made a mess of his jeans.

He planted on the column of your throat, exchanging them with love bites that traced a path across your sensitive skin like a field of blood-red poppies.

"Yeah? Who gave me a black eye just for talking to a girl? You are such a pain in the neck, my love."

As his strong arms carried you to the centre of the bed, you felt like your back met with a bed of flowers. He took off his clothes before settling between your legs.

One of your hands brushed his sweaty, mint-coloured bangs from his forehead, and the other tugged at the hair behind his neck to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

"I think they should give me an award for public service." He whispered hotly into your ear as he brought his veiny hand to your throat, squeezing it slowly to give you pleasure rather than suffocate you. Your heart was ready to burst out of its cage as the sensations rushing through every fibre of your being became too much for you to think straight. "It takes a lot of patience to tame a brat like you."

"Yoongi.." You let out a whimper as he taunted you, the blood rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment. Your lips were only inches apart as he pinned you between his naked body and the bed. The sweet scent of lemongrass emanating from his skin was enough to make your head spin as your hips rolled uncontrollably against his thigh. "Patience, love. I'm not going anywhere."

He gave you a final peck on the lips before his lips moved down to your belly, exchanging wet kisses with subtle nibbles. His kisses made you arch your body into his mouth as loud moans and groans came from your mouth. With every kiss he planted, he whispered into your skin that he was yours, as if he wanted to ink that fact into your skin.

He planted wet kisses on your inner thighs as you tugged at his hair. Your mouth was hanging open as his kisses exchanged with long stripes of licking on your thighs. He parted your legs just enough to kiss your already wet pussy.

"You look so good between my thighs baby." Your praise encouraged him to go on, sucking on your sweet nectar mixed with his saliva. You didn't even realise that you were pulling at his mint-coloured hair, that your knuckles were brushing against his scalp as you reached your orgasm.

He rested his head against your thigh to gaze intently at you for a moment, it excited him to see your cheeks flush. You couldn't help but moan at the sight of his chin glistening with your natural essence as you came down from your high, his minty hair wet with sweat making him look even more handsome.

"I haven't touched myself for weeks. I've been saving all my cum for pretty pussy." He crawled on top of you as you tried to regulate your breathing as he stroked his cock to keep himself hard. He grabbed your side with one hand while the other aligned his cock with your pussy lips. "Will you be a good girl and help me give Holly a sibling?"

Without thinking of anything but him inside you, you nodded feverishly. It seemed he wasn't the one who had missed you, the way he had made you dumb.

You were so wet that it was easy for him to bottom out with one thrust. His hips began to speed up to fuck you faster. He held your hand and brought it to where his heart was, as if to prove that your insecurities were wrong. "Yoongi, I'm close-" Your hips began to move in unison as Yoongi growled louder against your skin, fucking you harder when you were a mess under his body. "Me too, babygirl."

All those fights where you broke each other's hearts for nothing meant nothing to you in that moment, you decided you were a match made in heaven, especially when he was fucking you.

One last thrust and he ejaculated into your pussy, almost whimpering at the feel of your tight cunt milking him. You were both panting heavily as you tried to regulate your breathing.

"I love you, please do not think that I will ever leave you again."

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season - Part 7

Final Chapter and Epilogue

Everybody’s Got Somebody but Me

Azriel Eris x Reader

Azriel pleads his case to his mate before the Inner Circle, an unexpected interruption sheds additional light on the situation, Y/N makes a decision.

Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: Language

The room thrummed with erratic energy as everyone awaited the arrival of the Shadowsinger. Eris watched intently as Y/N kept a collected facade before the present group, but behind her eyes a tumultuous storm raged. She hadn’t seen her mate since she’d left - since he’d betrayed her - and maybe she was a coward for facing him before an audience of his loved ones but she was done tip-toeing the line, done praying that the words falling from her mate’s lips were truth when he’d done nothing but spin ugly lies from that beautiful mouth. She wanted the real story, the whole story, and Truth Teller itself couldn’t extract it better than the audience before them.

Her gut-wrenched with his nearing presence, the doors would open any moment as guards would bring him in, before her, before his family, before Eris and her sister.

The only missing parties in the space were Amren who had stayed behind in Velaris to keep a presence in place and Nesta who had other matters to attend to. Mor’s attendance was welcome but not required, given the obvious histories between she and Eris - her mate.

Eris kept an amused facade beneath his own surface, though he was anything but. Y/N looked resplendent seated at the lone chair at the head of his table. Seated to her right, he kept a respectful distance, fighting the overwhelming urge to reach out and warm her shaking hand under the table.

And Eris couldn’t be certain by the flat expression on his face, but he could have sworn the slightest gleam of amusement glimmered in Lucien’s eye as the mechanical one focused in on a clearly unimpressed Camila who was unabashedly taking stock of the middle Archeron sister at his side.

The door unlatched, all traces of civility falling from Rhys’ face as Azriel stepped into the now darkened room.

Azriel looked terrible, the purple bruises and dark circles under his eyes draining the remaining life from his sallowed skin, eyes red and puffy.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, burying down the instinct doing its damndest to get her to run to her dejected mate.

Azriel looked straight past every single person at the table, not even sparing a glance to the seething High Lord staring daggers in his direction. His hazel eyes blew wide as they honed in on his mate. His perfect fucking mate. He truly had drained so much from her, hadn’t he? Never once stopping to notice the signs.

Now, before him was a divine female - full in all the places he’d once gripped so fervently, her complexion radiant, hair lustrous, lips so delectable he wanted to bite them. There was no broken female here, this was a female who has been living a life of love and joy. The only thing missing was her bright smile, now absent in his presence.

Another thing he’d taken from her.

“Y/N”, Azriel mouthed, no sound coming out as the guards kept the cuffed hands he tried to outstretch in her direction restrained.

Her pointed silence and the clunk of the guards boots filled the room as Azriel was lead toward his space between Cassian and Rhys at the table. Y/N now noting the correlation between the bruises on Azriel’s face and a few scattered on Cassian’s.

Rhys’ voice entered her mind. “Azriel started a fight with Cassian that led to us finding out about he and Elain. When Cassian realized, he went feral on him. It’s been centuries since I’ve seen those two fight like that. By the time Cassian was done with him, I couldn’t in good conscience lay a hand on him.”

“They shouldn’t have fought over this. But I bet you not laying a hand on him though he knew you wanted to hurt his ego more than any punches would have.”

Feyre joined in the mental conversation, adding “He’s just lucky Nesta wasn’t there when they found out.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, assuming that Nesta would have remained neutral in the ordeal. Not out of cruelty, but given her love and protective tendencies toward Elain as well as her friendship with Azriel and their Valkyrie training.

Azriel looked to his mate, once again wordlessly mouthing. “Y/N, please.” Finally taking in the crowd before him, he paled further.

“Cat got your tongue, Shadowsinger?” Eris mused. Fury lined Azriel’s features at the smug tone. Rhys only let out a bitter chuckle though he found nothing funny about the predicament they’d found themselves in, his violet gaze narrowed in on his brother. “You found a work around with our bargain by finding your mate outside of the Summer Court, but couldn’t find a work around on the matter of being barred from communicating with her? Just how did you expect this whole plan to work out?” He didn’t wait for a response to the question as he waved to the bargain tattoo. “I rescind the bargain tattoo, you may speak to her for as long as she’ll allow it.”

Azriel paid no mind to Rhys, his chest heaved as he frantically spouted out, “Can we speak in private, my love? Just you and me.”

Eris bristled internally at the pet name but Y/N didn’t falter as she replied “You lost the right to call me that the moment you took another female to bed.”

Elain fidgeted in her seat, eyes downcast. Camila bouncing her murderous gaze back and forth between she and Azriel.

To his credit, Azriel took the blow. This was a bed of his own making and he knew it, they all knew it. There was no sense in trying to deny it.

His mate’s head remained held high as she continued, “By the grace of the High Lord of the Autumn Court, the consequences of your attempted infiltration of this keep have been resigned to your own High Lord.“

Shame flooded Azriel’s face but he let her continue.

“As for me? All I ever wanted was your love and commitment. I gave so many chances and when it finally seemed like you might get it - you’d squandered that opportunity as well. I am before you right now because I want to know why. And because you have not given me a reason to trust you, I have brought this council of individuals who have somehow found themselves so intertwined with our relationship when it should have only been you and me.”

Azriel spat the bitter words before he could stop them from leaving his mouth. “If Eris is not issuing consequence, there is no need for him to be here.”

Despite his exceptional ability to bait, Eris remained silent. A show of respect to the female at the head of his table.

“I was a guest in his keep when you decided to make our separation everybody’s problem and breached the wards.”

Azriel, damn him, couldn’t stop the next hateful words either. “I hardly call emissary business the equivalent of being a guest.”

Eris forwent anger over the blatant disrespect already rolling off of Azriel’s tongue when she didn’t owe him a second of her time, he knew this force of a female by his side well enough by now - biting the inside of his lip to hold back the involuntary smirk creeping its way up to the corners of his mouth as he sensed the words before she spoke them.

“You’re right, Azriel. But I am not here on emissary business, I am here as a personal guest of Eris, who has found himself intertwined in this relationship.” She then looked to her sister “Along with Camila, as they BOTH found themselves putting in considerable time and effort helping piece back together the parts of me that I couldn’t quite place myself. Do you have further question on the members in attendance today that you’d like for me to elaborate on?”

Camila, seated to the other side of Y/N, gave her sister a reassuring squeeze of the hand under the table. Silence once again filling the room, Azriel’s shadows in conjunction with Rhys’ raging darkness rendered him barely visible.

Perhaps her words to her mate were harsh but they were far kinder than the venomous “I’m here on the business of fucking the brains out of the Autumn Court High Lord who, by the way, is just as well endowed and far more bendy than you.” that she wanted to spit back at him.

As if Eris read her thoughts, he loosened the reign on that wicked smirk he’d held back.

“Now that the matter of why we’re all here is settled,” Y/N continued, “I will hear you out, Azriel. If at any point I do not wish to continue this discussion, you will leave immediately. Do you understand?”

Her stoic mate, the revered Spymaster, simpered at the words, giving a slight nod. “Yes.” Eris thought to himself in that moment, heart filled with pride, “She would make a fine High Lady.”

“Great. We have a bargain.” Her fist clenching as the tattoo formed on the back of her neck. “Please proceed.”

Azriel stood, looking to his mate. Crestfallen he began. He held himself in submission to his mate but with enough confidence for her to see that he was sincere in whatever he was about to say.

“Y/N. I love you. I have loved you since before the bond ever snapped. You are - You’re everything. Fuck, I know that what I did was terrible but, it’s not what it seems. You were so good, too good, I didn’t deserve you. I never have. You are everything good and I do nothing but bring pain and hurt to others, and now I’ve done the same to you. Words can never express how sorry I am but… I can at least share what happened.”

He looked to her, praying she’d speak, give any encouragement. Her bright eyes only stared through him, straight into the tattered soul he’d tried so hard to conceal from her.

The table remained silent. Camila biting back a scoff and Elain fidgeting with her dress.

Realizing she wouldn’t speak until he’d told her everything he continued.

He began speaking of how insignificant he’d felt in comparison to her. How he’d buried himself in work, in training with the Valkyries, helping Elain recover. He then pleaded to her, giving recollection of how he’d stopped feeling her through the bond. Giving account for everything leading up to the night he’d slept with Elain.

He recounted how he’d just wanted to get through the night, how he’d chosen to go to dinner instead of staying in, drowning himself in alcohol in an effort to get through the night, how he’d planned to tell Elain that he could no longer spend so much time with her.

It was then that he turned a violent glare to Cassian. “Tell her. Tell her, Cassian.”

Cassian let out a sigh. “Y/N, I am so sorry for the mistake I made. Nes and I, we’d stopped into a new apothecary along the Sidra and found a unique new aphrodisiac. We’d done a parting shot with Azriel and Elain after everyone else had gone out and I -“ his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, “I accidentally gave the shots we’d mixed the powder into to Elain and Azriel instead of Nes and I. I had no clue until yesterday, we just assumed it was a faulty batch.”

Azriel’s shadows swirled with rage as he picked up where he’d left off. “I went to find Elain afterward, to break things off but the aphrodisiac hit so hard, so fast, and I was so terribly intoxicated. One moment I was trying to speak, the next she was kissing me.” He shook, choking on the next words. “The next morning, I knew I could either tell you, inflicting more pain upon you, or I could carry the pain myself and make sure it never happened again.”

Lucien gritted his teeth at the admission. He’d known they slept together, she’d come straight to him afterward. Choosing to make his best effort to do right by his mate, telling himself that what had happened evened out the playing field between them. Of course it hurt, and hell, he was livid. He found himself fond of the Shadowsinger’s mate, forming a comfortable acquaintanceship with her the few times they’d attended the same events with the Inner Circle. She deserved so much more than a mate that cheated on her.

But Elain was his mate, he needed to at least try with her now that she’d finally shown up. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat and had spent the past six months spending what time she deigned to give him with her. He’d hoped at the very least it would keep Azriel away from Elain and with his own mate. He’d felt awful when he heard she’d left.

He was drawn from his thoughts by Azriel’s next words and the corresponding pained gasp from Elain, and the thrumming power of Feyre as she seethed from both embarrassment of the ordeal and the careless words about her sister. “Y/N, Elain means nothing to me. She was a mistake. I don’t care about her beyond the fact that she’s my High Lady’s sister, I don’t love her - I only love you. I only want you. She is nothing.”

Elain clutched her chest, eyes welling with tears as she let out a whisper that may as well have been a damning scream. “But - you’re my mate.”

Time stood still as everyone turned to her in shock. Everyone, except for Rhys whose raging power dimmed momentarily, heads turned from Elain toward him as he let out an incredulous laugh. “You idiot.” Feyre turned toward him. He’d pay for that comment later, though only mildly as she was inclined to think the same of her sister. “That aphrodisiac that you were given, it is designed to imitate the mating frenzy. He’s not your mate, you were just horny.”

Elain turned ghostly, sinking in her chair at the revelation. Y/N felt sympathy for Lucien as she noted his gritted teeth. Apparently whatever she’d told Lucien, she’d left out the important detail that she thought she had another mate.

Camila’s body shook, fighting back laughter, and failing. Her laughter filled the space. “Oh my gods!” She wiped a tear from her eye. “I don’t mean to… but this, this is too good.” Her laughter only increased. “How humiliating!”

Even Y/N bit back a smile. Camila never was good at hiding her emotions, laughing in the most unstable of circumstances. And she couldn’t stop. Finally she placed her palms on the table pushing herself up. “I’m so sorry. I’ll excuse myself.” Lucien was next to stand, Elain tightly grasping his wrist. “Lucien” she whispered.

It was Lucien’s turn to let out a small laugh. “I suddenly find that I am not at all intertwined with this mess. Enjoy your mate!” He mused, a saccharine smile forming on his face as he pulled his arm away, catching up to Camila. His footsteps and the distant sound of “My lady” as he extended an arm to her, which she gladly accepted.

Elain stood eyes darting between Azriel and the door. Taking far too long to come to the decision to chase after her actual mate. Her foot moved out, pivoting her toward the doors when Rhysand commanded, “Oh no, you will stay here and finish this discussion.” She gasped looking to Feyre who only gave a solemn nod of solidarity with her mate.

Elain fell back into her seat, crossing her arms across her chest, glaring daggers at Azriel.

As the room once again settled, aside from the roaring heartbeats at the table, Y/N spoke impassively, “If there’s anything else you wish to say, now would be the time, Azriel.”

He stared wide eyed, clearly still blown away by the bullshit with Elain.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I know that what I did was wrong. I never meant for any of this to happen. I never would have slept with her had it not been for the aphrodisiac. I never meant to hurt you. I have so much darkness within me to reckon with, so much that I’m terrified to bring up, so much I never wanted you to see. I need you to understand that. You were never the problem. It was me. It was always me. I can tell you how sorry I am, I can tell you how much I love you, but it won’t matter unless I can show you. Please give me that opportunity. I won’t let you down.”

Y/N sat still. Processing all of the details Azriel had given her. She felt his desperation barreling through the bond. Her hands again began shaking under the table without her sister there to steady them. Discreetly, Eris reached his hand to Y/N, the quivering receding at his warm touch.

Azriel’s shadows rose to whisper in his ear, his eyes instantly honing in on where their hands were joined, as if he could see right through the table.

And Y/N didn’t know if it was by a stroke of luck or the absolute lack of it but at that moment, the doors flung open and Nesta. Fucking. Archeron. stormed in.

“You.” She pointed to Azriel. One word. One action. So much damnation behind it.

Rhys’ darkness flared in the presence of his wild card sister-in-law. Cassian merely raised an eyebrow, the slightest upward curve tilting his lips as he took in his mate who could command a room full of power.

She looked over both High Lord’s at the table with an unimpressed sneer before turning that deadly, piercing gaze toward Azriel.

Azriel’s eyes widened in surprise at the Valkyrie striding toward him. “What. The. Fuck. Is. This?”

His brows knit and she opened her fist, grasping a chain with two of her fingers to display a dangling necklace.

Azriel’s face paled.

“You know, the strangest thing happened this afternoon. I was talking to my friend, Gwyn. We got to talking about flowers and Elain’s garden. Gwyn began speaking of how she loves roses, clutching at a lovely little pendant around her neck.”

“And I thought to myself, something about this necklace seems so familiar.”

“And then I recalled a solstice not too long ago where my sister came crying to me over a male who had given her a lovely necklace of the same description. How they’d pined for each other, never going further than a brush of the hands. Until the night they almost kissed, the scent of his arousal heavy in the air between them, then pulling back from her and stating ‘this is a mistake’ and leaving.

At the point Rhysand turned to his brother. “You’re fucking joking, Azriel.”

Y/N looked to them beginning to anticipate where this was going.

“When asked who gifted it to her, she stated that Clotho told her it was left for her from an anonymous admirer. So, I went to my friend Clotho, who keeps to her word very well. She’d sworn to the source she wouldn’t tell. But you know, the House of Wind is a sentient entity. Persistently tugging me toward Rhys’ belongings that remain scattered around the house.”

Nesta turned her glare from Azriel to Rhysand. “So, Rhysand, something tells me you know about this.”

Rhys lowered his head with shame hesitating as he searched for the right words.

“Y/N…. I’m so sorry. A couple of years ago, on Solstice, I caught Azriel placing a necklace on Elain.” He looked to Elain and then back at Azriel again. “I monitored the situation, hoping I was wrong, but as their lips were moments away from touching, I used my daemati abilities and summoned Azriel to my study. I truly thought whatever happened was over between them as the tension between the two seemingly faded in my presence. Until yesterday, when we found out about he and Elain sleeping together.”

Cassian glared to his brother with rage, “You gave a necklace meant for Elain to Gwyn?”

“She wasn’t supposed to know.”

Before he could dig the hole further, Elain whispered, those doe eyes peering at Azriel through her lashes, “So, you didn’t really think it was a mistake?”

Feyre broke her silence letting out an audible groan of exasperation. And Azriel broke his own silence,

“It WAS a mistake, Elain. All of it. Rhys tried to stop it. I should have listened. You were a mistake.”

Elain gasped, tears lining her eyes. And if looks could have killed, the glare Nesta gave Azriel would have ended him on the spot. But it was Elain who made the mistake of reading her sister’s rage toward Azriel as sympathy toward herself, leaning into her sister, turning her head into her side to catch her dramatized tears.

“No, Elain. I am so disappointed in you. You were completely wrecked when Graysen left you and you were only engaged. Imagine the pain Y/N felt losing her MATE.”

Eris who had been taking in the cluster fuck surrounding them mused, looking toward the door Lucien had earlier exited, “Oh, I don’t think she’ll have to imagine much.” Earning a laugh disguised as a cough from Cassian, another sigh from Feyre, and a scowl from Nesta as she chose to ignore the barb - looking again to Azriel, “You have a lot of amends to make.”

She looked to Elain, “You do too.”

With that she grabbed Elain by the arm and drug her out of the room. With a wave over her arm and a shout of, “You deserve so much better than what you’ve been through, Y/N!”

Y/N took a breath as the room regained its composure, the tension again thickening. “Is there anything else, or are you done making excuses, Azriel?”

“They’re not excuses. Y/N. I love you. I was wrong. It’s always been you.”

“I’m tired.” She spoke softly. And it was the truth.

“I spent so much time waiting for you. Praying that one day it would all become ‘right’ again. I dreamed that you’d come walking through the door, and remind me what it was like to feel your love. My Azriel, my mate, all I wanted was you.

But, this, Azriel. You are not the male I fell in love with. And I think… I think the most heartbreaking part of that is that what I loved most was those dark depths of your soul that you tried so hard to hide. You were never a monster, you were always worth loving. You wouldn’t have broken me. Shutting me out is what broke me. And I told you that, so many times, in so many ways. But you never listened.

And the reason you couldn’t feel me through the bond? The further you pulled away, the more I closed it off from my end. I hoped that it would give you time to work through whatever it was you were facing and refused to share despite my pleas. Until I eventually grew so numb that I just shut it down completely. A courtesy you never once extended to me during my time away. Do you know how hard it was to recover after I left? I felt your guilt and rage barreling through me at all hours.

And you fucking Elain? Nobody but you and Elain are responsible for your actions. Cassian is not your excuse. You chose to go that night, you chose to drink all evening, you chose to wait until that night to tell her you wouldn’t be spending time with her like you had been. You had the entire week away and chose to wait until the last minute.

The affair started long before then. I think we can agree that despite your cold treatment of her before me today, that you two were engaged in an emotional affair long before you ever went to bed with her.”

She reached into her pocket pulling out a piece of parchment.

“And then, you attempted to court Gwyn in my absence - which, fair, because I’m the one who left. She really is a lovely female. Although, I hear it didn’t quite work in your favor.”

Azriel’s eyes grew wide in panic. “The necklace didn’t-“

She laughed. “I’ll save you time and effort of your excuses, Azriel. Gwyn may not have known the necklace was from you but she did extend the courtesy of writing to me and I was rather surprised by the details of the demise of our relationship that didn’t quite line up - specifically the cheating aspect.”

She placed her hands on the table, looking her mate directly in the eyes. “I made my decision long before your attempt to break into this Keep, before the truths were unveiled today. I appreciate everyone for coming but I have heard enough. I ask that you leave now, Azriel.”

Tears filled his eyes. “Wait! Please, Y/N.” His brothers began to pull him away but Azriel fell to his knees.

“Please, baby.” He begged. “Just come home.”

She stared at the pleading male before her. A pang of sympathy for her broken mate ran through her. She wasn’t cruel and sympathy was not a weakness. This was her choice to make and nobody would blame her if she went back to her mate.

“Come home, please.”

Holding her head high, she stepped around her chair.

Eris sat expressionless, carefully avoiding any inclination of the devastation he’d feel if she chose to leave. He would support her either way.

Azriel remained focused on her every movement, his erratic breathing the only sound cutting through the tension of the room.

She took a step, and one more, before halting. Gently taking the hand of the red-headed male beside her whose eyes lined with silver as he looked up to her.

“I am home.”

EPILOGUE

The time he showed up:

Lucien suffered when his bond with Elain was severed. She did not agree to breaking the bond which left slim to no opportunity to move forward with the breaking of it. After months of intense research, Helion was able to find a tricky workaround that did not require both parties to be present. It was incredibly painful due to the negative effects being concentrated to one individual instead of split between two but fortunately not lethal.

Eris never pushed me to sever my bond with Azriel but as time went on it felt important to put that part of my life behind me. I’d extended the courtesy of writing to Azriel regarding my intention to sever it, informing him that I would be going through with the incantation that Helion had conjured. He did not reply but I knew he received the letter based on the muted feelings of grief that seeped through crevices of the walls I had placed against his end of the bond for several days afterward.

Eris traveled to the Day Court with me, having decided nobody could aid in my recovery better than he. To my shock, upon arriving, Azriel was there. Demurely, he stated that it was only right for him to share the weight of this burden. I was inclined to agree but only thanked him for showing up. He bristled at the sight of Eris but the males said nothing to eachother and we went our separate ways until Helion was ready for us. With Azriel’s presence and the pain being shared, the physical recovery on both of our ends was expedited and manageable for both of us.

We were both held in separate suites to recover until Helion gave the all-clear to leave. When the pain became less debilitating, I decided to take a stroll through an exterior walkway, soaking in the sun while Eris bathed. Apparently Azriel had the same idea as I turned a corner to find him sunning his wings, head hung low.

Right as I made to pivot, his head whipped in my direction, eyes locking with mine. Even without the bond I could easily read the pain in his eyes, the grief that surrounded him. His shadows fought to come to me but he kept a tight reign on them. His breathing was rapid, his eyes fighting to turn away but his gaze lingered.

He opened his mouth to speak, a weak sound escaping his lips before he clamped his mouth shut, jaw tensing.

I kept my gaze soft, maintaining eye contact for another moment but he didn’t try to speak again. With that, I walked away and we did not encounter eachother again during the stay.

It was later I realized that he likely wanted to say something, anything, but there was nothing left to speak between us.

The sister-in-law:

After recovering fully from the severance of his bond, Lucien cryptically invited Eris and I to a lakeside home in the Day Court.

“Dress for merriment.” His only details.

Upon arriving, we found a couple of beloved faces from my life, along with Feyre, Helion, The former lady of Autumn (now the lady of Day), Jurian, Vassa, and even Tamlin at the home. We were all escorted to the grounds where an absolutely beaming Lucien stood at an altar beside the most radiant female I’d ever seen.

That was the day my sister became also my sister-in-law. It’s a very strange thing to say aloud but makes sense if you think about it.

The first heir:

Eris cried the day our son was born. Not from the relief of having an heir, not from any upset due to the child being male, certainly not from any disappointment of being a father.

The birth was as smooth as one can be, he held my hand throughout, praising me, and whispering words of love. He didn’t even mind the curses I threw his way as I pushed. He only let go of my hand once the babe was carefully handed to me by the midwife, allowing me those first precious moments to cradle our little flame to my chest and relish in the life our love had created.

Eris cried when that tiny babe was finally passed into his arms and the little red-haired beauty grasped his finger. That touch immediately tethering a connection straight from the child in his arms delicate soul to Eris’ heart, the heart that once beat beneath layers of armor now laid bare before his son.

Never would this child know pain at his fathers hand. Never would he limit the love he could show for fear of being seen as weak. And never, ever would he question his fathers love for him.

The coronation

Azriel

Sitting here lonely at a table for two, watching lovers being lovers

Azriel sat shrouded in shadow in a quiet corner of the decorated throne room. Happy chatter rang throughout the room as attendees anxiously awaited the crowning of the High Lady of the Autumn Court.

Feyre and Rhys; Cassian and Nesta; Helion and the former Lady of Autumn; Emerie and Mor; Tamlin and his new wife, Briar; Lucien and Camila; and even Gwyn and Tarquin sat cozied up in pairs throughout the crowded throne room. Nyx had seated himself next to his best friend Alex, Camila and Lucien’s son.

From what Azriel had heard Lucien treated Alex as his own from the moment he met him, adopting the boy immediately after he and Camila married. He seemed to be a fine young man and a positive influence on Nyx, who kept Rhys and Feyre on their toes these days. Perhaps karmic justice for the hell Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian put Rhys’ mother through in their youth.

Three little girls ran through the room, two with vibrant red-hair, tan skin and freckled golden cheeks; one with dark hair, fair skin, and her mothers eyes; their giggling rang out above the chatter filling the room as an older child, a boy of eleven years old - Azriel still remembered the day the announcement arrived to the Night Court of the birth of the first Autumn Court heir - walked in a straight backed, lordly posturing behind them, a crease forming between his brows as he focused intently on his little sisters.

The boys long strides kept up with his little sisters as he reminded them to mind their paces. Lost in their merriment, the girls ignored his warnings until the boy finally let out an exasperated sigh. Stopping for a moment with his arms crossed, he raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shook his head, murmuring gods knows what frustrated curses. Knowing his mother, it was not the typical frustrated language of a child.

Azriel gave a small, sad smile at the memories elicited.

When the boy looked up, the girls had disappeared from his sight. He grew frantic for a moment until his Uncle Lucien walked up to him, pointing to his wife and the three girls pressing kisses and talking animatedly to her round, very pregnant belly. The boy gave his uncle a smile, shoulders sagging in relief. Lucien bowed down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. The boy took his hand and walked back toward Camila and the sisters.

Azriel placed a hand to his chest at the wave of grief that rang through him. The mating bond may have been severed but he never could get over the love that he squandered. The family that could have been his.

“You don’t have to be here, brother.” Rhysand’s voice invaded his mind.

Azriel swallowed, willing his thoughts to a tone of neutrality. “She’s the High Lady of the Autumn Court, we’re immortal, we will have to be comfortable in spaces together. It comes with the territory.”

I miss you. Without you I just don’t fit in.

He didn’t have to say what his brother already knew. That yes, he was broken when she left. Broken further when she confirmed he was no longer her home. He’d hated himself for what he’d done, for what he put her through. For a long time, he’d been a shell of the shell of himself that he’d already become. Eventually, he’d taken to seeing one of the counselors in the House of Wind’s library. He was too far gone at that point to consider such an option but Rhys had coordinated with the priestesses and mandated it. Either he got help or lost his position in the Night Court.

Even after the countless hours of counseling sessions he’d attended over the years, that “savior complex” of his remained. Seeing Y/N thriving with someone else was fucking hard but not as hard as living in a world where he never looked upon her face again. As she assumed the title of High Lady, a target would lay on her back, just as one was on any other High Lord or High Lady’s back. He’d never forgive himself if his stubborn pride kept him from attending any court events she attended and something happened to his own High Lord or Lady… or if something happened to her.

I don’t know if I’ll ever find another you.

So here he was, alone at a table, in a now quiet throne room, watching the love of his life step out onto the dais in all of her resplendent glory, kneeling down before the male she loved. Eris’ eyes lined with silver as her own lifted to meet his gaze, her chin held high as she awaited his next move. Carefully, he lifted the emerald and ruby crested crown, with one large diamond centered between two golden leaves, off of the plush pillow it sat upon. Eris’ previous words rang true through Azriel’s head “Diamonds don’t crush under pressure.” The people of this court were truly fortunate to be under the rule of such a resilient and kind ruler. The shining diamond of Autumn. She would love them deeply and do right by them in a way so few leaders were capable of.

Azriel couldn’t contain the pride that welled up in his chest, tears threatening to spill over his thick lashes as the crown was placed upon her head. And yet it was Eris who looked at her like she was the very air that he breathed, as if nothing existed in that moment but the female at his fingertips, like the only reason he himself was brought into existence was to find and cherish her for eternity. And despite his disdain for Eris Vanserra, Azriel finally understood that this was where she belonged.

Everybody’s got somebody but me.

————————————-

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read this series! I loved writing it and I hope you are pleased with the ending. Some may ask, “What about Elain?” and to that I say, “What about her?” I find great satisfaction in the fact that she didn’t get either male, was embarrassed in front of the IC, and became so irrelevant that she was barely mentioned in the epilogue (aside from Lucien breaking the bond). Clearly, she’s still bitter considering she refused to sever the bond with him but he still found a way out (albeit painfully) and got his dream girl! Stay mad, Elain.

ACOTAR Tag List:

@lilah-asteria

Eris Tag List:

@angiedsv

Rainy Season Tag List:

@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study @chessebookgirl @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @crazylokonugget @mysticalfuncollectorus @starsinyourseyes @b0xerdancer-writes @inloveallthetime @thegirlinshadows101 @viistrength @grunchwench @starryhiraeth @macimads @feiwelinchen @acourtofbatboydreams @nebarious @haechansleafblower @melsunshine @thegirlintheshadows101 @plsfckmern @existingthroughwords @mybestfriendmademe @strangersunghoon

[7ndipity]

Partner Privileges

Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks to @queenofdragonsandcats for requesting this!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Sharing food. He likes being able to look after you, both in bigger, more obvious ways, as well as little, subtle things, even if it’s just sharing a bite or two of whatever he’s eating. He just wants to make sure you’re taken care of and well fed(but he will insist on feeding it to you)

Helping with household chores. I’ve mentioned this before, but he seems to really enjoy moments of simple domesticity, and I think that would extend into your relationship. He’s very much a ‘playing house’ type of boyfriend, relishing in simple daily tasks with you. It might sound strange, but doing laundry together is a love language for him.

Info dumping. Yoongi and Jin joked during Suchwita about how Jungkook tends to space out or not always pay super close attention during conversations, but when it comes to you, he makes a conscious effort to pay super close attention, even if you’re just ranting about why mint chocolate is a superior flavor of ice cream. He loves talking to you about literally anything and sharing whatever weird topic y’all have fixated on lately.(my adhd ass is projecting a lil, leave me alone)

Babying each other. As I mentioned in my other lists, he’s had to kinda fight to shake the perception of him as the cute little maknae of the group, but he can’t help but melt whenever you dote on him, and the same applies to you. He doesn’t mind being your baby, but he absolutely loves getting to take care of his baby.

This one goes against almost everything I’ve said before about his possessive streak but, being friends with his friends. He’s very protective of his friends and loved ones, so letting you into his inner circle of friends is a real sign of trust and commitment from him, and seeing you getting along with Jimin or Mingyu means the world to him(even tho he might still get a lil jealous sometimes).

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan

[writers-potion]

Plot Templates for Dark Fiction

MC hears about danger and mocks it as unreal, and ses out to prove that it's not real. He enlists the helps of a loyal but reluctant friend/servant/colleague/lover. -> Things get stranger and they fall into real danger -> MC fights the threat, narrowly getting away with his life. -> The danger gets even worse -> The threat is defeated, and the friend often pays a terrible price.

A danger threats the MC's community and he is the only one who can defeat it -> First Failure -> Second Failure -> She learns something important, and wins.

MC wants to belong to a community (secret society, gang, etc.) -> He works to convince the others that he is worthy of being a member -> He is granted initiation -> He works harder to be taken into the Inner Circle -> He realizes that the community is evil -> Will he go ahead or back out? (A) End with the realization (B) His conscience wins and he sacrifices himself (C) He decides to go ahead, enjoying the evil.

He devotes himself to fighting the evil -> She makes sacrifices for the good -> She realizes that what she has fought for is actually evil, and the people around her were right.

An innocent MC observes the actions of others -> The reader picks up on the subtext that there's something evil while the MC goes around, naive.

MC is urged by a friend not to pursue a dangerous venture -> The venture turns out to be harder than it seemed -> He barely escapes from the danger and seeks help -> Help does not arrive and the MC fights against the menace -> the friend/traitor falls into their own trap they've laid for the MC

Newly dead MC wakes undead as a ghost/zombie/vampire -> He has unfinished business to conclude and sets out for his mission -> He meets unexpected obstacles in the world of the undead -> He realizes something new and forfeits the initial mission

MC is obsessed hunting a monster/evil creature -> He nearly dies but prevails -> He takes a trophy home but realizes that the monster had got to his family first -> His triumph becomes meaningless

MC believes that an evil creature/monster is actually innocent -> She sets out to win its trust and tames it -> She succeeds and lets her guard down -> The monster attacks her

MC wants to overcome a personal fear -> He succeeds after many attempts -> He realizes that in this instance he should have listened to his instincts - he has become an easy victim

MC is a semi-sympathetic character whom the reader can understand, but not quite like -> He obsessively plots to get the justice/love he thinks he deserves -> He realies he has falledn into his won trap/walked into a rival's similar trap -> He tries desperately to escape -> MC dies knowing that he obsessions have brought his own demise.

MC is a righteous character -> She lands in a situation with only two options, which are immoral.

MC plots to bring the downfall of another character -> He is betrayed by his most trusted friend

MC schemes to trap another person -> She realizes too late that she has been outsmarted/fallen into her own trap

These are some common plot progressions, so feel free to explore with other types!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

💎For early access to my content,  become a Writing Wizard 

[hannie-dul-set]

PATIENCE, PATIENCE.

p — SIM JAEYUN x gn! reader. g — humor, fluff. w — swearing, making out, secondhand embarrassment aka the hannie-dul-set fic triumvirate + a good amount of public indecency. 1.5k words.

requested by — anon: cocky jock (who loses that cockiness around you) x reserved student librarian (who loses that cool because of him).

note — loosely inspired by a moment from the manhwa "unstoppable hayoung" ifykyk. in a prev fic i alluded beomgyu to a mosquito, in this one jake to a pest. i think i'm seeing a pattern here.

a pest has been following you for quite some time now.

“sim jaeyun.”

his name falls icy off your tongue, prefacing it with a sharp inhale yet the man in question is unfazed. he’s trespassing the barrier that’s preventing you from socking him in the face: the front desk of the library where he’s decided to prop his arms over, leaning into the surface, smiling oh-so-handsomely at you as if you aren’t politely telling him to fuck off with your eyes alone.

then again. you don’t really expect him to understand social cues.

“for the dozenth time, please leave me alone.”

so you verbalize your intent instead.

“i can’t do that, baby,” he replies. “not until you agree to go out with me.”

you suck in a deep huff of air, close your eyes, and dig your fingers into your thighs to ward away the distress.

“just one date. please?” he prods, nudging himself closer over the desk as if the scrawls of paper you’re trying to organize aren’t as important as his incessant badgering. “are you really going to keep saying no to this face?” the face in mention looks particularly punch-able right now. you’ve always taken pride in yourself for being a very patient, patient individual. jake sim from philosophy 102 is testing that patience.

“the library is for reading,” you say through gritted teeth. patience, patience, patience. you’re a daffodil on a breezy field, a piece of driftwood on a steady river. you will not fight a man in your workplace. you will keep your job and maintain inner peace.

“i am reading,” he argues. “i’m trying to read your mind because i don’t get why you don’t want to go out with me.”

holy crap. he’s insufferable.

“i’ve already told you dozens of times, jake.” now, you don’t know a thing or two about the ball sport he does, but that pink varsity jacket is starting to look abhorrent. it’s being shoved into your face the more he tries to throw himself over your desk. a bright jarring color, unsafe for the eyes. “i don’t want to go out with you. also, i’d appreciate if you stop ruining my work.”

one of the documents got wrinkled under his elbow. his mouth opens, “oh, sorry!” and he quickly backs off, ironing the sheet with his palms. “but at least tell me why you don’t want to go out with me. you keep rejecting me with a blank face but i don’t know why.”

your upper lip twitches. 

because this is all because of a dare, that’s fucking why.

no, even that aside, the way he keeps arrogantly trying to hit on you, expecting you to just accept it and go is grinding your gears. you’re calm. you’re usually calm. but something about this guy just pushes all your buttons in one go, makes you spew out bullshit you’d never dare yourself to say to anyone else.

“hey,” your rouse. “can you kiss me right now?”

two can play at that game, bitch.

it works. it works really well because jake is suddenly as pink as his jacket. well, you don’t blame him. the library isn’t safe from gross, hormonal activities, but those are usually done in between the shelves— not at the front desk near the entrance. 

you’re mimicking his stance, leaned forward, arms crossed over the desk and all. “like— like a peck on the cheek?” he stutters.

“no. like tongue in mouth kissing me like a starved man and it’s your last meal on death row,” you clarify. it’s funny how you can see his brain circuits crashing in real time. serves him right. you let out a breath and stand up, seeing the clock tick closer to your break. you quickly gather your things and circle out from behind the desk, now in cross-armed disappointment next to your persistent pest. “this is why i don’t want to go out with you, jake. you don’t even have feelings for me. you’re doing this because your friends told you to, and i don’t—”

suddenly, you feel something soft on your lips.

suddenly, your knees are weak, your mind is fuzzy, and you’re exchanging spit with jake sim in the library lobby.

wait, you gasp into his mouth and he responds with a grunt. wait, your eyelids flutter, air knocked out of your chest that’s somehow now pressed against his because wait— this wasn’t supposed to go this way. 

how dare he actually do what you told him to? how dare he give you the best damn kiss you’ll ever have in your life? 

“what the fuck?” you breathe out in intermittent huffs, hands on his chest as you pull yourself back. jake’s hazy eyes are looking at you in a way that makes your brain jump in circles, coupled by the arm that he has looped around your lower back. he’s crazy. he’s fucking crazy. “why— why would you do that?!”

“you told me to kiss you!”

“and you did?!”

your eyes widen at the volume of your own voice, quickly slapping a hand over your swollen lips, but making noise is at the bottom of your library sins today. you see your supervisor’s attention on you from the corner of your eye, and your face flushes. “why would you go this far for a dare?” you say in a quieter voice, still manic, still frantic, and jake flinches hard when you jab a finger to his chest. “you’re nuts, you’re actually nuts, oh my god—”

“wait, what do you mean dare?” your finger seems to be hurting him because he grabs your wrist and brings your hand down. “a dare? a dare to do what?”

you seethe. “don’t play dumb with me, jake. overheard you and your little soccer friends last time—”

“it’s football—”

“i don’t care.” your voice is getting louder again. jake flinches once more. “the problem here is you keep asking me out to date you because your soccer friends are betting on who can bed the quiet library assistant first and— and i’m not going to play dumb just because you’re a good kisser. i’m angry and disgusted and—”

“do you mind continuing your argument outside?”

your mouth is hanging open, paused mid-speech. when you peer to your left, you see that your supervisor has teleported right next to you. oh, god. there goes your job. jake apologizes for the both of you and skews your frozen figure out the door. you’re screwed. your patience could handle six months at starbucks and three months babysitting three toddlers, but i cannot handle one sim jaeyun.

“so,” the perpetrator’s voice snaps you back to reality. you’re both now outside the library, and he’s looking at you with a smugness that begs a kick to the balls. “you think i kiss good.”

your face bitters. “is that your only takeaway from all that?”

“no,” he shakes his head. “i also got that you’re rightfully mad at me for something i have to clear up.”

here we go. you’re curious to see what excuses he’ll make, how many sorry’s he’ll impart, and if he’ll get down on his knees. jake. but his starting words aren’t what you’re hoping for. “there isn’t a bet,” he starts. “my teammates were just trying to tease me because i didn’t have the balls to ask you out. dumb, i know, but they were dumber because they were all like, ‘if you don’t make a move soon, we will, blah, blah, blah’ to provoke me so—”

jake is matching his varsity jacket again.

“long story short, i made them run fifteen laps and decided to get it over with by asking you out on a date.”

you’re brought back to the first instance jake had asked you out— it was in the lecture hall, right after class, and he was wearing the same pink jacket that at this point seems like his second skin. the color isn’t as jarring as you initially thought.

“but rejection didn’t feel nice. so i thought i’d try again.”

you narrow your eyes. “again, as in like, eight times?”

“you counted?” he muses. you are unamused. he clears his throat and continues. “you’re always so calm and collected, but your eyebrows would furrow and your face would scrunch up whenever i threw you the question. it’s cute. i got addicted. you can’t pin all the blame on me.”

you let his words simmer, and with each passing second of silence jake grows more nervous, fidgeting in wait. you decide to spare him the agony, letting out a deep and heavy sigh. “okay. you’re forgiven.”

it’s instantaneous how his face lights up. now, you’re the one flinching.

“nice! does that mean we’re dating now? can i kiss you again?”

“now hold on,” you stop him, mildly appalled, mostly flustered. “i said i forgive you. i never said we can start making out in a public area again.”

he bats his eyes at you. “in private then?” 

you want to hit him. you want to hit him so bad. sim jaeyun is the pest that has been following you for quite some time now. you fear that at this point, there’s no getting rid of him now.

PATIENCE, PATIENCE. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[flightofaqrow]

tag refresh, people

[sophvilla]

Love on Me˚˖𓍢ִ໋

°°°°°°°°°Enha Series°°°°°°°°

Pairing: Bf! Jay X Gf! Femreader

Synopsis: Jay Loves Making You Food Feel Good by Pleasuring you on the Kitchen counter

Warning: Smut, MDNI, 18+ , Unprotected Sex, Oral Receiving (Reader), Reader gets called Baby, My Love etc.

PARK JEONGSEONG | 박정성

You lay on your back against the kitchen counter and let Jay pull your white panties off. You could feel his hands roaming around your body, touching you, caressing your delicate skin.

He moved down to your legs, spreading them wider apart as he kissed and licked along your inner thighs. His tongue traced up and down between your legs before he found your clit, circling around it and gently rubbing. His mouth felt so good against your cunt causing you to get wet already.

He moves his arm up and starts to pump his two thick digits inside your wet core, making sure to curl his fingers repeatedly against your g-spot with so much force. Your eyes roll back, biting your lips to muffle your moans and screams. You turn you head against the base, trying to fight off the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

He moves his fingers in and out, making your thighs quiver. It felt so good like it was his dick pounding into you.

His finger making your walls all wide for him as if preparing you for his cock. Those wet swishing sounds inside your cunt, telling him just how wet you are, that sticky arousal on his palm… You’re a mess.

Lewd slurping sounds echo as his tongue makes sloppy patterns on your clit, finger fucking you so fast it’s dripping down his elbows—it’s …..

“please, t-too much! I-its s’fucking—hmmph!” You babbled out, giving in to the pleasure and gripping onto his hair this time, tugging at his hair even harder on accident, causing him to groan into your folds. He removes his fingers from your cunt and makes a nasty switch, rubbing your clit with no real pattern as and puts his tongue as deep as he can inside your cunt.

You whine his name, “jayyyyyy-“, gripping his hair. You even begin to buck your hips into his mouth, searching for more pleasure as if he isn’t giving you enough. “m’ gonna cum!” You eagerly announce,

He takes this as a signal to go faster and rougher to you, making sure to leave you spent only to give you more.

You cream on his tongue and he sucks it all up like a starved man, letting out a soft and deep groan in satisfaction. Who knew he could get off so much watching you struggled to maintain yourself? This whole time his cock restraining against his pants, from the amount of precum that was making his boxer so sticky it was uncomfortable.

Jay pulled away from you for a moment and then got up and took off his pants.

Then Jay leaned down again, this time putting his face right next to yours. His lips brushed across your skin as he whispered, "Are you ready baby?"

You looked up into his dark brown eyes and nodded again. He lowered himself onto top of you, slowly pushing his way inside of you until you both were fully connected. It felt incredible, like nothing else you'd ever experienced before. As he began thrusting deeper and harder, all you could think about was how amazing it felt having him inside you as you continued to moan out his name like a chant,

He continues to thrust his cock inside you making you moan his name out loud. Your juices start dripping down his shaft and onto the kitchen floor as he fucks you harder and harder. Suddenly, he pulls out of you, leaving you whining at the lost of touch and turning you around and bending you over the counter. He pushes your hips forward so they rest firmly against the edge of the countertop while he continues fucking you from behind.

Jay starts pounding into you harder than ever before causing you to scream out loud each time he does it. His balls slap against your ass cheeks as they bounce off of them. This drives him wild even more which causes him to pound into your cunt even harder still until finally, after what seems like forever but only lasts seconds, he explodes deep within you filling you up, pussy full of his cum.

Still not enough, He turns you around, adjusting you on the counter as he pulls your legs over his shoulder and thrusts inside in one go. You can’t help but cry out loudly as he takes control, slamming his dick into you repeatedly. “Oh god!” you gasp as he pounds into you mercilessly.

“That’s right baby, take it all,” he growls, his voice low and rough. He grips my waist tightly, pulling you closer to him with every thrust. His hands move down to grasp your breasts roughly, squeezing them hard. You moan loudly, body quivering under his touch.

Jay leans in close to you, whispering dirty words in your ear. “You love this don’t you, My Love?” he asks, his tone menacing yet seductive. You nod vigorously, unable to speak due to the pleasure coursing through your y veins. He chuckles darkly and picks up the pace, driving you insane with his relentless assault.

Finally, when you both reach your climax as he fills you up for the second time, Panting heavily as He collapses onto top of you, pinning you down with his weight. You both lie there together for several minutes, both of you catching your breath after the passionate love making.

[suugarbabe]

Gotcha!! I am a sucker for how you write Enzo, and even more of a sucker for hurt/comfort or angst that ends in fluff. So to mix the two, my brain came up with this: Reader and Enzo have been together for a while, both are in love with eachother. The only thing is, R has never seen Enzo's "dark side", because the occasion never presented itself, until when Enzo beats up a guy for touching R and making her uncomfortable. R is shocked to say the least, or taken aback, but offers all the same to clean up Enzo's wounds, very lost in thought, because maybe usually violence scares her. Knowing Enzo he would realize this, and kind of spiral in a "did I scare you? Are you afraid of me? I would never hurt you" worries, while R was simply worried about Enzo's well being. So it ends with Reader comforting Enzo and vice versa, just a sweet bonding moment after a bit of a scare and angst. Feel free to change this or make it more dramatic💕💕💕💕💕

you couldn't shake the slimy feeling you had since this morning when Cormac tried to touch you. Well, he did touch you, smacked your ass really. And when you gave him the finger he called you a slag. You tried to ignore him, ignore the interaction. Enzo had tried to ask you what was wrong at lunch, but you told him you were just tired, that you'd had a tough divination class that morning. You could tell he wasn't buying it, but he also didn't push you.

when you were walking with Pansy on your way to the library, she had asked you again, and finally you told her. "What a fucking tosser! A right prick, he is," you had agreed with her words, telling her that you were going to go to the library for your free period. She said she would see you later and that you two could plan to hex him during dinner if you'd want.

You'd liked that idea, so when you saw Pansy sprinting towards you in the library, you were heavily confused. You stood up as she approached you, nearly out of breath. You urged her to tell you what was going on. She nodded, hands on her knees, "Enzo...in the court yard...Cormac...blood...s'getting real bad."

"Oh my god," you took off running, Pansy (reluctantly given that she had just sprinted to you) close behind. When you got to the court yard a small crowd had already formed. You pushed your way through until you got to the inner circle, your hand instantly going to cover your gape at the scene before you.

You always knew Enzo was a big man, he was not only tall, but broad as well. You just never realized how much broader he was than most the guys your age because from where you were standing, you couldn't even see Cormac with how Enzo was hunched over him, landing blow after blow.

You looked around the circle until you spotted the rest of Enzo's friends, storming up to them. You pointed at Blaise and Mattheo, "Stop him. You stop him right now before a professor comes out here."

Mattheo smirked, "No way, princess. This is Enzo's victim, he's not finished yet." You turned, now seeing a different angle of the fight. Cormac's face was bloody and swollen, one eye closed completely shut, the skin around it looking taught like a balloon.

You turned back to the both of them, "Mattheo Marvelo you stop this right. now. or I swear to Merlin I'll hex your dick to the size of a peanut for a month." With his middle name and the threat, Mattheo nodded at Blaise, both boys launching themselves toward Enzo, struggling slightly to pull him off.

Enzo was fighting back against them slightly, trying to swing towards Cormac again. He was so blind by rage he didn't even notice anyone around him. You couldn't stand it anymore, couldn't watch him fight anymore.

"Lorenzo, enough." Your voice was loud and stern. Enzo looked toward you, immediately catching your eyes and relaxing in the two other boys' hold. When you nodded they finally released him. You instructed the other boys to 'take care of this', motioning toward Cormac's beaten and moaning body.

You grabbed hold of Enzo's forearm, not wanting to fully grab his hand and get covered in someone else's blood. You led him down to the dungeons, down the hall of the boys dormitory and into the bathroom.

You pointed to the edge of the tub, "Sit." Enzo did so immediately, looking down at the ground like a child about to be scolded. You opened of of the cabinets, grabbing gauze and some healing potions that the boys kept on hand.

Walking back towards Enzo, you tapped the inside of one of his knees, signaling him to widen his legs so you could stand between them. You lifted his head with a finger under his chin. His had a small cut on his lower lip, "Looks like he got one good swing on you."

Enzo smirked, "Yeah, one's all he got the chance to get." You tsked at him, "You know I hate fighting, Enzo. You never fight, it's always the others."

Enzo's smirk turned to a frown, his lip splitting open slightly more, "I'm so sorry, angel, did I scare you? Are you afraid of me now? You know I would never hurt you, righ-"

You cut him off with a finger to his lips before patting the split in his lip with gauze and a healing potion.

"Why were you fighting him," you knew the answer, but you wanted to know how he knew. You grabbed one of his hands, waving your wand over the cuts that you can only assume were made from either Cormac's teeth or the harsh bridge of his nose coming into contact with Enzo's fists.

"Darling, my angel girl, he touched you, no, he smacked you, and called you names? What kind of protector would I be if I let shit like that slide. No way, that is never happening." You couldn't help but smile as you finished healing his other hand.

You cupped his cheek now, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth, "My sweet Enzo bear, my big bad protector." Enzo placed his hands on either side of your hips, one hand going round to give you ass a playful squeeze.

You squealed, swatting at his hand with a giggle. Enzo smiled at the sound, pulling you closer still, "I will always be here to protect you, no matter what. I love you angel girl."

You smiled, "I love you too, Enzo," leaning in again to give him a proper kiss.

[crippled-peeper]

Hot take: Disabled people have EVERY right to be as hostile as an abled person is. Disabled people have been abused, experienced violence or witnessed violence, have experienced malpractice, been ignored, been neglected, been insulted, been bullied.... I can go on.

What I'm saying is, is that how can you expect to hurt a certain group for so long by being hostile and get surprised when all they know how to react with is hostility?

for real. I’ve endured so much trauma and violence, mentally and physically and institutionally, and people at this point are still shocked I fight back, feel upset, complain, and I don’t consider myself lesser than them or deserving of mistreatment or neglect because my lack of economic value to society

how do I explain to these people that I also have friends and loved ones and people in my inner and outer circle who care about me and don’t consider me necessarily rude or aggressive to anyone who hasn’t already been horrible and weird and cruel to me wrt my disabilities. It seems to be only assholes who have extremist political beliefs about disabled people

[merwgue]

Rhysand and the Inner Circle are often portrayed as champions of justice, protectors of Velaris, and saviors of peace, but when you take a closer look at their treatment of both the Illyrians and the people of the Hewn City, you’ll see a disturbing level of hypocrisy, elitism, and even racism embedded in their actions. For all their talk of fairness and equality, the way they treat entire groups of people within their own court reveals how fundamentally flawed and unjust their rule is.

1. Racism Toward the Illyrians – A Supposedly “Inferior” Race

Rhysand and the Inner Circle make it clear time and time again that they view the Illyrians as second-class citizens. The Illyrians, who make up the backbone of Rhysand’s army, are constantly belittled and treated as if they’re beneath the more “civilized” fae of Velaris. Despite their warrior culture, strength, and the pivotal role they play in defending the Night Court, Rhysand and his Inner Circle continuously look down on them as primitive, savage, and in need of “control.”

Cassian, an Illyrian general who should be fighting for his own people, essentially enables Rhysand’s oppression. Instead of standing up for his own heritage, Cassian reinforces the hierarchy by subjecting his own people to brutal conditions. The Illyrians are forced to train endlessly for a war machine, with their wings clipped by their own people and their potential to rise above their societal limitations crushed by Rhysand’s lack of real investment in their future. For all the power Rhys wields, has he made any meaningful reforms for the Illyrians? Absolutely not. The Illyrians are kept in a state of perpetual servitude, viewed as pawns in the larger game.

Rhysand’s hypocrisy is glaring: he criticizes Tamlin for controlling Feyre and treating her like property, yet he does the exact same thing to the Illyrians, treating them as tools for war rather than equals. They are denied access to the luxury and peace of Velaris, instead being confined to their mountainous, war-driven culture. Rhysand’s so-called progressive rule does nothing to uplift the Illyrians—he keeps them under his thumb, controlling them with an iron fist under the guise of “order.” Their desires, their culture, their autonomy—none of that matters to him.

2. Hewn City – A System of Oppression

The treatment of the Hewn City is perhaps even more egregious. These people are literally tortured and oppressed by Rhysand and his Inner Circle. They live under the constant threat of violence, with no access to Velaris, no right to escape the cruelty of their lives, and no hope for freedom. Rhysand rules the Hewn City through fear, cruelty, and control, all while basking in the adoration of Velaris as a benevolent ruler. But if you’re from Hewn City? You’re out of luck. You’re deemed lesser, unworthy, and kept trapped in a hellish existence.

Imagine a woman in the Hewn City, trapped in an abusive household, desperate to escape. Maybe she wants a better life, a chance to start over, to live in Velaris—the so-called “City of Starlight” where peace and beauty reign. But she can’t. Because she’s from Hewn City, she has no right to even enter Velaris. She’s not deemed good enough. She’s stuck, left to rot in the shadow of the Night Court’s cruelty, with no hope of ever tasting the freedom that Velaris promises. Rhysand and the Inner Circle have set up a system where if you’re from Hewn City, you’re less than. You’re nothing.

This isn’t just a political power move—it’s an outright human rights violation. The people of Hewn City are kept under a thumb of oppression, denied any opportunities for a better life. They are stripped of their agency, their dreams, their right to seek something better. It’s classic elitism and classism, with Rhysand and his Inner Circle playing the role of the elite, while the Hewn City citizens are left to suffer. There’s no compassion, no chance for redemption. The message is clear: if you’re from Hewn City, you will never be worthy.

3. Torture and Public Humiliation in Hewn City

Rhysand's rule over the Hewn City goes beyond exclusion and elitism—it crosses into outright torture and public humiliation. Whenever Rhysand or any member of his Inner Circle goes to Hewn City, they rule with fear and violence. They torture its citizens to maintain control, creating an atmosphere of terror and submission. Amren’s frequent threats of violence, Rhysand’s brutal handling of Keir, and the constant threat of punishment create a horrific environment where the people are literally afraid to step out of line. They’re not ruled through justice or fairness—they’re ruled through pain and fear.

Consider Keir, the ruler of Hewn City. No matter how terrible he may be, Rhysand and his circle constantly humiliate and degrade him. Rhysand threatens him, tortures him, and keeps him under control with the constant reminder of his subservience. And Keir’s people? They don’t even get the chance to escape his tyranny because they’re trapped under Rhysand’s own oppressive rule. The same people who suffer under Keir are just as much victims of Rhysand’s cruelty—yet they can never dream of freedom in Velaris. They’re locked in a cycle of abuse with no escape.

4. Velaris as an Elitist, Gated Utopia

Velaris is held up as a shining beacon of peace, safety, and beauty, but it’s only accessible to a privileged few. If you’re not part of Rhysand’s favored circle or from the “right” parts of the Night Court, you’re not welcome. This is more than just geographical exclusion—it’s a form of classist and racist gatekeeping. The Illyrians are not allowed in Velaris. The people of Hewn City are not allowed in Velaris. Only those whom Rhysand deems “worthy” get to enjoy its supposed paradise.

Velaris is a gated utopia, a paradise for the privileged few while the rest of the Night Court lives in squalor and violence. Rhysand preaches about fairness, equality, and peace, yet Velaris exists as a stark symbol of inequality. The people who need refuge the most—the Illyrians and those trapped in the horrors of Hewn City—are denied access to this sanctuary. They’re left to fend for themselves in a brutal, unforgiving world while Rhysand’s inner circle enjoys luxury, wealth, and peace.

5. Rhysand’s Hypocrisy – Selective Morality

At the end of the day, Rhysand’s rule is built on a foundation of selective morality. He plays the role of the benevolent ruler, preaching about justice and equality, but his actions show a deep prejudice against those he deems lesser—whether they’re Illyrians, citizens of Hewn City, or anyone outside his inner circle. He allows Velaris to exist as a utopia for the few, while turning a blind eye to the suffering of the many.

Rhysand’s treatment of the Illyrians and the Hewn City is racist, elitist, and hypocritical. He is no better than the tyrants he claims to oppose. He uses violence and fear to maintain control, enforces classist boundaries to keep the less “desirable” out of Velaris, and perpetuates a system of inequality that traps entire groups of people in cycles of abuse. If you’re not from Velaris, if you’re not part of Rhysand’s chosen few, then you’re nothing.

[mustainegf]

OMG PLS ELENA MAKE THIS HAPPEN So you two are hanging out after the show and you ask him to teach you how to play billiards and while he's teaching you he's standing right behind really close to you and you start grinding your ass againt him teasing him and he gets hard and fucks you on that table🤤

Bro thank you so much for requesting this, because every time I see this gif I THINK THE EXACT SAME THING

𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 ¹⁹⁹¹

Lars's basement was vaguely lit and reeked faintly of stale beer and cigarette smoke. A scratched up pool table dominated the center of the room, surrounded by faded band posters and abandoned instruments. James racked up the balls as I stood behind him, highly conscious of his broad shoulders and the way those jeans wrapped around his ass.

James turns to me, holding the cue stick. "Alright, first things first, grip the cue like this." He demonstrates, wrapping his fingers around it loosely. "Now you try."

I step up to the table and wrap my slender fingers around the smooth wood, emulating his grip.

My hand brushes against his as he adjusts mine, and sends a shock through me. I pull back quickly, feeling the flush rise to my cheeks. James smirks at my reaction.

"Like that," he says, stepping closer until our bodies almost touch. "Now focus on your stroke. let the cue do the work."

As I set up my shot, my eyes cannot help but dart to the firm lines of James' jaw and how well his black leather jacket fits him across his arms. His nearness is like venom, making the game difficult to pay attention to.

I take a deep breath and strike the cue ball, watching in delight as it sends the solids scattering across the green felt. "Yes!" I exclaim triumphantly, wheeling around to James with a grin.

He chuckles, shaking his head in amusement.

I step up to the table again, lining up my next shot. James moves behind me this time, close enough for me to feel the heat radiating off his body. Strong hands reach around me, adjusting my stance, fingers grazing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs as he does so.

"Mmmph." I bite my lip, stifling a moan at the intimate contact. James seems oblivious, entirely too focused on fixing my posture. But his hands touching me, however fleetingly, sends a jolt of desire straight to my core.

"Relax your shoulder," he says, his warm breath dancing across my ear. "And keep your elbow slightly bent."

As I follow his instruction, I am hyper-aware of every single point of contact between us. the press of his chest against my back, the gentle pressure from his thumbs against my hips.

As James continues guiding me, I grow bolder, my weight subtly shifting to grind my ass back against the prominent bulge forming in his jeans. A low groan rumbles in his throat, sending the vibrations across my ear.

The hardness pressing into me makes me ache with desire. I know exactly what it means-James is turned on, and I'm loving every second of it. Emboldened, I start to swivel my hips in slow circles, rubbing myself against him like a cat in heat.

"Fuck..." James growls, his hands tightening on my hips. "What are you doing?"

I don't stop the sensual dance, softly panting while his erection throbs against me. "Just helping you get a better view," I purr in a husky tone, my voice filled with lust.

"Oh, I've got a perfect view, all right," James grunts out, breathing hard in an effort to stay in control.

I giggle at the wicked gleam in my eye, quickly picking up the pace, really grinding my hips into his straining cock. The friction is fun, and I can feel myself getting wetter by the second.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I tease, reaching back to palm the impressive bulge in his pants. "Mmm, feels like you're enjoying it a little too much."

James utters a strangled imprecation, his fingers digging into my flesh as he fights the need to thrust forward and bury himself inside me. "Enough," he snaps, but there's nothing real behind the word at all.

"Enough," James repeats more firmly, reaching to grab my hips in a bid to still my movements. The words are an outright lie, though, because I can feel his arousal pulsing hot and hard against my ass.

James whirls me around to face him suddenly, his piercing gaze locking with mine, dark with scarcely restrained hunger. "You want to play, baby? Let's play."

His mouth crashes down on mine in a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue as he claims my lips with fervor. I moan into his mouth, my own desire igniting as I cling to him desperately.

James breaks the kiss, leaving me gasping and wanting more. "Strip," he gruffly orders while his eyes shoot over my body in blatant appreciation.

I do so without argument, shimming out of my tight jeans to reveal a pair of lacy, purple panties underneath. My tank top is next to go, followed by my pair of black bra cups, which leave my nipples in view. Finally, I slip off my shoes and step out of my clothes to stand before James in my underwear.

He drinks me in, his gaze lingering on the swell of my breasts and the soft curve of my stomach. "Damn, you're sexy," he mutters, reaching out to trace a finger along the waistband of my panties.

I shiver at his touch, my heart racing in anticipation. He hooks a finger into the fabric and tugs gently on it, urging me to lift my hips. I do so, all too willingly, and with a quick move, he peels my panties off down my legs before flinging them aside.

I am standing before James, naked, my skin flushed with desire, my breasts rising and falling with every quickening breath. His hungry gaze roams my body, drinking in all the details, from the light freckles sprinkled about my collarbones to the glistening folds of my sex.

"Beautiful," James whispers, his voice low and rough with need. Stepping closer, he fills my vision with a muscular physique, his scent, a mix of smoke, leather, and masculinity, engulfing me.

He reaches out, palms so much larger than mine, and he cups my breasts. Thumbs brush over my nipples in a way that shoots sparks straight to my core. I arch into his touch, a needy whimper escaping my lips.

James leans in, hot breath fanning across the skin of my neck as he nuzzles the crook.

Without warning, James spins me around and bends me over the edge of the pool table, my arms splayed out for balance. The cool, smooth surface presses against my bare breasts as he positions himself behind me.

He leans in close, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he says in a husky whisper, "Gonna fuck you right here, where anyone could walk in and see you getting pounded. Imagine Lars' face if he caught us like this."

A shiver runs down my spine as I contemplate it-a thrill of fear mixed with the utter taboo of it all. James' words are filthy, designed to push my limits, to ignite my desire further.

"I bet you'd love that, wouldn't you?" he continues, his hot breath sending tingles down my spine.

"Bet you'd come so hard if someone saw me spreading these thick thighs open and burying my cock deep inside your tight little pussy." The sharp slap he gives my ass follows his words, the sting of it blending with the pleasure coursing through me.

"Yes," I breathe, pushing my hips backward in silent invitation.

I hear the distinctive sound of James' zipper lowering, followed by rustling fabric as he frees his throbbing erection. My heart races in anticipation, my pulse pounds between my thighs.

He bends down over me then, and I feel his hot breath caressing my ear again. "Alright, doll, just relax and let me take care of you," he coos; the voice is soft and melodious, a direct contrast to the raw desire behind it.

Slowly, deliberately, James presses the head of his cock against my slippery entrance. I instinctively clench, but he does nothing more than hold still, allowing me a moment to acclimate to the feel of him pressed against me, his thick length pressed against me.

"That's it, just breathe," he coaches, his hand settling on my lower back. With a soft, almost gentle motion, he begins easing inside me, inch by glorious inch.

As James slowly sheathes himself within me, I reach back and clasp his hand tightly, my nails digging deep into his skin. The sensation of his full length buried deep inside my clutching warmth is overwhelming, bordering on painful in its intensity.

But it's a good pain, the reminder of how thoroughly I'm claimed by him in this moment. I hold his hand like a lifeline, anchoring myself as he begins to move, his hips rocking against my ass in a slow, deliberative rhythm.

"Oh god, yes," I moan low, my words muffled against the table. Each thrust sends waves crashing through me, coiling a pressure tighter and tighter in my core.

James sets an unrelenting pace, his strong strokes pushing deeper and harder with every pass. The table creaks beneath them, its salacious accompaniment primal in coupling.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his hand reflexively tightening on mine as he pounds into me. "Gonna fill this sweet pussy up soon, mark you as mine."

The promise sends another jolt of excitement through me, spurring me onward. I rock back to meet his thrusts, the slapping of skin against skin loud in the room.

Suddenly, James becomes erratic, his thrusts shorter and with more force. "Ah, shit. baby, I'm close," he warns in a strained voice, his words laced with imminent release.

I feel him swell inside me, his cock throbbing to the cadence of his racing heartbeat.

As James pistons in and out of me, I concentrate hard on the sensation of his heavy balls slapping against my clit with each powerful stroke. The coarse hairs at the base of his cock graze my inner thighs, adding a delightful texture to the friction.

His thick shaft stretching me wide and his balls stimulating my sensitive nub prove to be my undoing. A scream of pleasure tears from my throat as my orgasm crashes over me, walls clenching rhythmically around his plunging cock.

Overwhelmed by the force of my climax, I collapse forward onto the table, my chest heaving as I fight to catch my breath. James' hands are still tightly clutched on my hips, holding me in place as he withdraws from my spasming channel with a wet pop.

Before I can even fathom what's coming, I feel the first splash of his hot cum against my ass, painting my skin with his essence. He continues to shoot stream after stream, marking me as his in the most animalistic way possible.

As his last spurts subside, James steps back, leaving me drenched in his seed and shaking with aftershocks. Sprawled across the table, I just lie here, my body still humming from pleasure, my mind scattered everywhere from the ferocity of our encounter.

I shake and my knees go weak as I sit up, but my legs give out totally under my weight. Large arms wrap around me, picking me up off the table and cradling me against James' firm chest before I can fall.

He murmurs, "Don't you worry, gotcha," as he carries me across the room to set me down easy among the plush cushions of the couch. "Stay put, I'll be right back with some towels to clean you up."

He gives my thigh a reassuring squeeze before getting up off the bed and out of the room, leaving me to my afterglow and composure. Though the tremors still rack my body, I curve my lips in a contented smile as I settle backward into soft upholstery, already looking forward to James' return.

He's back in a moment with a dampened cloth and carefully cleans up the evidence of our lust, his touch tender, almost loving, as he cleans me up, making sure to not rub too hard over my sensitive skin.

His fingers dance tantalizing patterns across my thighs, tracing around each swipe of the cloth and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Then, every now and then, he pauses to press a kiss to the spot he's just cleaned, peppering my skin with sweet compliments.

"So pretty like this, all flushed." he murmurs, leaning in to plant a lingering kiss on the small of my back. "Such a beautiful mess."