#and she earns your trust and bond each and every time

[binah-beloved]

in a new cycle, a newly naive you gets injured once again. it's a deep gash, painful but not life threatening, the Abnormality that caused it leaving countless similar wounds in its wake. you're waiting for the crowd in the Department of Welfare to clear a little when you hear footsteps behind you, Binah gesturing for you to follow her away from everyone. she sits you down in an empty room, a small medical kit in her hands, and carefully begins to sew your wound shut.

it stings, the needle sinking into your skin with each methodical motion. Binah wipes the blood away as she works without a word, though there's a slight gleam of concern in her dark eyes as you both sit in silence. when she finally knots the thread tightly, you can't help but inhale sharply, pain sparking across the area like lightning. it quickly fades, though, when you feel a cool, firm hand touch your cheek, your Sephirah cradling your face in her palm as if she's done it a hundred times and speaking with a soft, laden tone.

"Shh. You are safe, now."

[flower-blossoms654]

I love that even though Isha doesn’t speak, we still have such a good feel of her character. She is not less than because she doesn’t speak, nor is she looked over. She’s bright in every scene she is in, Zaun’s little sun with a toothy smile.

Just for a moment, we got to see how brightly she too saw the world. A pretty, bright, blue world in which she found someone to love and protect her with a ferocity she trusted instead of feared.

It was that love that strengthened her legs, that gave her the courage to shoot forward. It was that love that steadied her arm with the gun to protect her older sister, when it once shook and struggled to pull the trigger.

Isha “the one who protects”. And she did that as many times as she could, with tiny fists and heart and eyes full of gold.

It was understood that they had a bond before. The way Jinx’s hideout became brighter, and there was a corner made just for Isha. The way that Isha wanted her hair dyed just like Jinx’s. The hugs and laughter and the way she screamed when having to leave Jinx behind. The way she fiddled with gears and markers and drew clouds on her skin with shiny metal securing two braids in her hair.

But it all seems to make sense in that final scene. When it’s just Isha. It’s no longer the signs or echoes of love but Isha telling the audience directly. This is her song. This is her strength. This is her sacrifice. This is her love for Jinx, in every happy memory she has had with her. She communicates in a way that is so Isha. “The world is beautiful and so is my older sister. I love her and I want to protect her.”

And it transcends words.

It is simple for Isha. Jinx made her have faith in herself. Gave her a safe space to live freely. Loudly. With wide smiles and explosions. Blue smoke and powder.

Dancing together. Laying together. Coloring beetles and bugs before a dramatic battle. Jumping without fear of the landing or the fall. Covering her eyes in the bath as dye stains her hair. Nails in pink and blue polish securing the braids in her hair. Spray paint in blue and pink (she let her be blue, she let her be blue) as they run after each other. A secret handshake with finger guns. Jumping to scare her big sister, and the smile she earned after.

She was not scared to fall before because Jinx was holding her hand. Her hand shifts to form a familiar finger gun and a silly little “poow” leaves her lips. She is smiling. She is not scared now because Jinx was never afraid of the fall and she won’t be either.

Jinx needed someone to love her instead of fear her. And she got it. Isha was not Silco, she did not need to be darkened and drenched in blood to love something so unloveable.

“You feel it? That buzzing behind your eyes? Because you know, in a moment, it could all…poow! Best feeling in the world, kid.”

Close your eyes. Hear the buzzing and it reminds you of her. It rings in your ears like an embrace. A life marked by bad luck but not ruined by it—a life made so immeasurably better.

To Isha, Jinx was perfect. No “undoing” required.

[misaerabl]

Icarus ; prologue

caitvi x reader

SUMMARY: In a city where ambition runs wild and dreams are built on the edge of danger, Caitlyn, Vi, and you form an unexpected bond that could either elevate you to the top—or destroy everything you’ve ever known. Caitlyn, the ambitious strategist, and Vi, the impulsive rule-breaker, each push you in different directions, and your quiet but sharp instincts become the balance they never knew they needed. Together, you rise higher and higher, but as your relationship deepens, so does the risk. Ambition, power, and love collide in a tangled web of desires, and soon, you realize the price of flying too close to the sun. Will the fire consume you, or will you find a way to survive the burn?

GENERAL WARNINGS: polyamorous relationship, drugs, violence, a lot of profanities, sex, toxic characters (they're all fucked up in their own ways),

MINORS AND MEN DNI / chapters : tbd.

 It’s a city of contrasts—gleaming glass towers and crumbling streets, the kind of place where ambition and desperation walk hand in hand, where dreams are both made and broken in the blink of an eye. It's the kind of place where Caitlyn, Vi, and you came together, though none of you knew it at the time.

Caitlyn always knew how to make her presence felt—her sharp, calculating gaze and poised confidence made her the kind of person who could walk into a room and immediately take control. Raised in a family of law enforcement, she wasn’t content with being in the background. She was born to lead, to strategize, to climb the ladder until she reached the highest rung, no matter the cost. Caitlyn’s dream? To make a name for herself in a city where justice was a luxury few could afford, but she was determined to bring it to those who needed it most. But despite her polished exterior, she always kept a few walls up, guarding her heart with logic.

Vi, on the other hand, was chaos incarnate. Brash, impulsive, and with a temper to match her fire, she lived for the thrill. She came from the other side of the tracks—raised in the underground world, where rules were more like suggestions and trust was hard-earned. Vi didn’t care much for structure or the boundaries Caitlyn so meticulously adhered to. For her, the rush of danger was everything. And when she caught wind of the city’s most notorious heists, she made it her personal mission to master the art of bending the law for her own gain.

As for you, you’d always been a quiet observer. You had your own ambitions, but they were less about climbing the social ladder and more about finding your place in the world. You spent most of your time in the background, blending in, sketching the world around you with an artist’s eye. You had a unique gift for understanding people, seeing things others missed. Caitlyn found you fascinating, and Vi saw you as someone who could be manipulated—though she didn’t know it yet, you would end up being the person who balanced them both.

It wasn’t until a late night at an underground art show that the three of you finally collided. The place was filled with chaos—half-finished paintings, graffiti on every wall, and the hum of live music that only made the whole thing feel even more rebellious. You had been invited by a mutual acquaintance to show off some of your artwork, something raw and personal you’d never considered showing anyone before. Caitlyn had come to see the show, looking for inspiration, while Vi—well, she was just there for the thrill of being in a place where people didn’t ask questions.

You first noticed Caitlyn at the bar, standing in the shadows, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd as she sipped a drink that looked far too refined for the place. She was out of place here, but that only made her more intriguing. Vi caught your eye next, not because she was in any way subtle, but because she walked into the room like she owned it—her leather jacket, her defiant gaze. She saw you first and smirked, a playful challenge in her eyes.

That night, everything changed. Caitlyn approached you after you’d stood in the corner, sketching quietly as you often did. Vi followed her, sensing something unspoken between the two of you. What started as an awkward exchange of words soon turned into something more—a shared spark, something neither Caitlyn nor Vi could ignore. You were unlike anyone they had ever met, and they couldn’t help but be drawn to you.

Caitlyn saw in you a potential ally—someone who could balance the more reckless side of her life with a dose of pragmatism. Vi saw someone who might just be the missing piece in her chaotic world, a wildcard to keep things interesting. And you, well, you couldn’t resist the pull of their contrasting energies—the structure Caitlyn promised and the unpredictability Vi brought. For the first time, you felt like you didn’t need to be on the outside looking in. You had found your place in the mix.

The three of you didn’t know it then, but this was the beginning of something that would consume you all—something that would test not just your abilities and ambitions, but your trust in one another.

The beginning of a fire that would burn too brightly, too fast, until none of you could control how far you’d gone.

[uncookedfeeler]

How it all started 👹

Jessi x Reader

Tags : 5k, smut

Loyalty is a deep and enduring commitment that manifests itself in trust, respect and support. It implies a sense of obligation and responsibility where each individual acts in the best interests of the other. This bond, which grows stronger with each passing week, month and year, is the cornerstone of any successful partnership.

For the investor, it's the guarantee of a long-term financial investment, not without risk of course, but also the exclusivity of every opportunity linked to the person being supported.

For the celebrity, it's the guarantee of permanent and intangible financial support, as long as the terms of the contract are respected, as well as access to other resources in the eventuality of difficulties.

It's been a busy few weeks for you, and as the number of visitors to your establishments increases, so does your workload. The financial returns are excellent, your customers seem satisfied with your services on both sides, and there's no sign of a downturn in business, which in a way doesn't bother you and the last thing you want to see right now is problems like scandal.

Scandals are an integral part of the industry in which you do business, and you are no stranger to them yourself. Before you implemented a 'zero' policy in your establishment, there were a number of outbursts from investors who were a little too physical with your customers, which earned you some minor concerns, but also a great deal of respect and trust for the way you handled these problems.

And nothing prepared you for the one that set the nation alight last night, incriminating your oldest client and long-time friend. So you arranged a meeting with this person.

It's not uncommon for you to appear in public at your favourite club, enjoying your own service and waving to the many clients and staff who fill the place. Amid discreet glances and whispers, you sit down at a table in the middle of the room and lean back.

Quickly, one of your employees, accompanied by the manager, appears in front of you to serve you. 

"Welcome sir, I'm sorry I didn't come to greet you myself", says the manager in a hurry, the little man looks rather stressed and his face doesn't remind you of anything, probably a newcomer, you think.

The young woman next to him, much more stoic, bends down slightly to greet you.

"Good evening, sir, how are you? A double with ice as usual?" The familiar tone seems to disturb the manager, who is about to reprimand her.

"Yes, please, Seola," you say, smiling at the spectacle unfolding before you, and after taking your order, the young woman gives her manager a dark look of authority before returning to the bar.

"I'm sorry sir, I'll make sure she's disciplined, please excuse her", the manager says to you, bowing to show his respect.

"Haha, don't worry newbie, even if you're her boss she'll give you a hard time" you give the manager a light pat on the back before letting him disappear from your sight.

Shortly afterwards, Seola appears with your drink and sits down opposite you as if nothing had happened. 

"So what's he been saying since yesterday?" you ask her in a low voice.

"People seem worried, the fact that it happened right outside the bar doesn't help, especially with the media attention of the scandal", she replies, matching the volume of your voice.

"It's not good at all, is it?"

"Not really, people here know she's directly connected to you, so we need to solve the problem quickly, at least internally"

"Leave it to me, sorry for the trouble"

The young woman gets up and goes back to her work, information gathering is crucial in your field and people like Seola, who are your ears within your walls, make it a lot easier. 

And just as you're enjoying your drink with a clear mind, you hear the sound of heels tapping in the distance, then the surrounding noise falls to a deadly silence, and without even looking in the right direction, you know who's just entered the room, and quickly all eyes follow the progress of the woman who appears behind you and finally sits down opposite you where Seola was just a minute ago.

Under the red and dim light of the room, a small woman with long light brown hair appears, wearing a strappy purple outfit that accentuates her huge breasts, slightly hidden by a large sparkling crystal heart necklace. Her make-up is striking, with heavy eye shadow and a bold lip, giving her a pouty look.

"Sit down Jessica" you say firmly and loudly so that the whole room can clearly hear your order, supported by your furious expression, the young woman obeys without saying a word except for a simple one:

"Oppa ... I" that comes weakly from her trembling voice.

It's a show of dominance that you are preparing to display to your audience. Jessi, the woman with such a charismatic and strong image, is crushed under your authority and you intend to make an example of her.

With a simple, dramatic wave of your hand, you ask one of the waiters to bring a glass of water to your table and, leaning back in your armchair, you light a cigarette, even though it's forbidden inside, but no one will dare reprimand you, given the way things have turned out.

The woman keeps her legs together, doesn't dare look at you, and stares at the glass of water in front of her. She's obviously waiting for you to start your scolding, as usual. But this time she's gone too far and you stare at her for several long minutes.

"Oppa, I... I didn't mean to cause so much trouble, The kid came out of nowhere and my friend just overreacted. It's not like I pushed him myself" The young woman finally breaks the silence and looks up at you for the first time.

You don't know where to start, the situation is so bad from every angle, so you just listen.

"Of course I feel sorry for the boy, but with the CCTV and now the police questioning, it's just nonsense. People really do have time on their hands".

You already knew she wasn't the most mature of the bunch, but her reasoning is completely wrong, so you take the lead.

"Is that all you've got to say to me?" Anger slowly builds inside you, from the tension and adrenaline pumping through you.

"YOUR FUCKING FRIEND HIT A CHILD, A MINOR, IN FRONT OF MY ESTABLISHMENT, FOR GOD'S SAKE!" You throw your half-empty glass down, shattering it into a million pieces as it hits the floor. You continue to make large movements towards Jessi, explaining:

"LISTEN TO ME, JESSICA, I AM TIRED OF CLEANING UP AFTER YOU. YOU PUT MY BUSINESS AND EVERYONE AROUND US AT RISK WITH YOUR BULLSHIT".

"Oppa, I'm sorry, sit down." Her voice shaking, she also stands up to try and calm you down, but to no effect.   

In your exaggerated anger, you rip off his collar, throw it on the table and grab his face, squeezing his cheeks hard.

"NOW YOU'RE GOING TO LISTEN TO ME VERY CAREFULLY, YOU'RE GOING TO SORT OUT THIS PROBLEM WITH THE POLICE AND THEN YOU'RE GOING TO LEAVE YOUR LABEL AND MAKE YOURSELF VERY SMALL BECAUSE I SWEAR TO YOU, IF I SEE YOUR UGLY FACE ON TV AGAIN, WE'RE REALLY GOING TO HAVE A PROBLEM".

The pressure and violence of your words overwhelms Jessi, who begins to cry her eyes out, her make-up suffering the effects and running down her face. From the outside, the scene seems to have shocked your audience, who are witnessing a public humiliation, but that's all it takes to show that you're still in control of the situation.

You let go of the woman's face, still in shock, and you can see in her eyes that she is terrified and didn't expect this when she arrived.

"Go and freshen up in a private room, I'll join you in 5 minutes, we haven't finished our discussion yet," you order her, snapping your fingers, and the young woman complies before disappearing from the main room,

You turn to your staff to apologise for the mess and you do the same to everyone in the room, the audience seems to have been captivated by the scene, leaving a feeling of respect but also fear. Finally, you make your way to the corridor where the private rooms are located.

Access to the corridor is controlled by scanning a membership card to open a sliding-door that blends seamlessly into the wall. Although entry to your establishments is already by selection, those who wish can pay to gain access to these private rooms.

Once the door is open, you enter a corridor about twenty metres long, with several doors on either side. Each of these rooms is numbered and equipped for total privacy. As you walk along with your hands in your pockets, one of the doors on your left unlocks and you see one of your clients and former idol, Ms Seolhyun, step out:

"Good evening, Madame. I hope you're having a lovely evening? Everything going well inside?" you say with a warm smile as you stop in front of door N°4, greeting her with a simple nod.

“Good evening, Sir! Everything's going great... I..I just need to go to the toilet, thank you so much for your concern!”, replies the young woman as she leans over to greet you, her large breasts on full display.

You notice the delightful sweat on her face and her gorgeous, slightly flushed complexion. You even take the time to pull up the strap of her dress that has slipped off her shoulder, being careful not to drop the access card that is stuck between her two magnificent boobs. Then you move aside to let her pass.

You discreetly peek inside and see one of your old friends, Mr Hang, sitting on the sofa at the back of the room, enjoying the mouth of a short-haired woman while playing with the breasts of another.

You shut the door yourself with your foot until you hear the click of the latch, sealing the privacy of your clients once again, and make your way back to the room next door, wearing No. 6, you take your hands out of your pockets and pull the belt out of your trousers before wrapping it around your hand. Gently, you scan your card again on the badger by the door and enter the room.

You move slowly into the room, your footsteps echoing lightly on the tiles, each inch adding gravity to the moment, and stop before a kneeling Jessi, her eyes fixed on the floor.

Without a word, you drop your belt at her feet, immediately attracting the young woman's attention, her gaze rising towards you with the anxiety she is trying to hide.

You walk past her, staring at her coldly, and sit down on the beige leather bench just behind Jessi, who is still kneeling. She now has her back to you, emphasising the vulnerability of her posture in the face of your lack of response.

And for the first time since you entered, you start talking to her : 

“Come here, darling” you say in a soft, affectionate voice and you see her obey without hesitation. She leans towards the belt on the floor, clutching it between her teeth with total obedience, in a show of deliberate submission. As she moves towards you on all fours, her eyes lowered, she seems to be aware of your penetrating gaze, which follows her without distraction, detailing her every move with silent satisfaction.

Finally, she reaches the seat and gently lifts her head to offer you your belt, her eyes tentatively searching your gaze for reassurance. In that suspended moment, you reach for your belt, then gently loop the strap around her neck, adjusting the buckle with cold precision. The belt tightens just enough to remind her of her existence without compromising her breathing. You take care to use the notch, deliberately drilled a little lower, adapted for this precise use.

“There you go” you murmur in a low, confident voice, Jessi's eyes rise slowly towards you, filled with unreserved submission, but also with a deep and palpable desire, the young woman is waiting for you to set your devotion on her.

“I'm sorry, my darling, for what I did before in front of everyone”, you gently reach out your hand to her, letting your fingers caress her still red cheek with tenderness, your thumb caressing it in a slow gesture, as if you wanted to erase your mistake, the young woman in her vulnerability closes her eyes and slowly lets her head rest on your thigh.

“But... you've been very naughty today and daddy needs to give you a little punishment, do me a favour and take off my trousers” and without further do the young woman complies and starts unbuttoning your trousers and then pulling off your underpants to free your semi-hard cock.

Jessi wraps her fingers around your shaft, gently stroking it to the head in a few thrusts. Then she extends her tongue and slides it along the underside of your cock, from the base to the tip. You let out a soft moan, your head falling back. "Go on girl, just like that..."

She swirls her tongue around your bulbous head, licking the beads of pre-cum dripping from the tip. Then she wraps her lips around it and sucks hard, lowering her head until the glans touches the back of her throat.

"Mmmmh! Now I recognise my little Jessica..." You gasp slightly as Jessi begins to rock her head back and forth, sucking on you with deep desire. One hand cupping and stroking your swollen balls as she works your shaft with her lips and tongue.

In no time at all, your cock is soaked in saliva and throbbing against the roof of her mouth. Jessi gives your swollen head a few more licks before pulling out. "Mmm do you like it when I do this daddy? Let me take care of your big cock a little longer.

She stays on her knees and slowly slides the straps of her tight dress to the side, exposing her huge tits as they bounce under the effect of gravity. You look at her lustfully and your cock continues to harden as they begin to push against each other.

She takes your thick shaft and presses it between her soft mounds, wrapping it in warm, soft flesh, squeezing her breasts around it and sliding it up and down. You just watch blissfully as your cock disappears between the flesh of her breasts, again and again.

Jessi continues to fuck you slowly and sensually, occasionally moving to suck the head of your cock before pushing it back into her cleavage. Her heavy breasts engulf it completely, your thick shaft disappearing each time before reappearing glistening with sweat. The wet, obscene sounds of her movements fill the room.

"What a needy little slut", you growl in approval as she gags and drools on your cock "You like choking on my big cock, don't you?" She hums in response, the vibrations making you roll your eyes.

Saliva drips down her chin as she works you, and you can't resist tangling your fingers in her soft hair, gripping it tightly as you begin to thrust into her mouth. "That's it, take it all in like a good girl", you command.

Jessi relaxes her throat, letting you push your cock deeper until you feel her nose pressing against your pubic bone. You hold her down, your heavy balls resting on her chin before you pull out. She gasps, tears stinging the corners of her eyes, only to see you thrust back in.

You use her mouth like a fleshlight, thrusting into her head and grunting with pleasure. Drool drips down her chin as she gags and chokes on your thick meat. But she was a fighter, she took everything you gave her.

Pulling back abruptly, you slap her face with your saliva-soaked cock, leaving traces of her own saliva on her cheeks. "Open up you little slut," you say, lifting her chin with the tip. "Ah!" Jessi screams as you thrust your cock back into her open mouth. As you start to thrust, you pull on the belt around her neck, tightening it just enough to make her dizzy. Her eyes roll back and she moans like a whore.

Holding her neck tightly, you finally let go of her hair and start slapping her fake tits hard, the impact of your thrusts leaving red marks on her body and you really let go, brutally fucking her face. Her throat swells obscenely with each deep thrust.

"Take it, you cock hungry bitch!" you growl, punctuating your words with particularly vicious thrusts. "Choke on my cock!"

Tears stream down her face as she chokes and spits, her throat convulsing around you, you can feel her dizziness from the lack of air and the rough treatment. But you don't care. All you care about is using your property for your pleasure.

Just before you spit your load, you pull out and point your cock at her face. Jessi manages to get her hands up just in time to grab your thick, heavy balls and stroke your cock as I come. Shot after shot of hot, sticky cum splashes into her face, coating her cheeks, nose and open mouth. She swallows as much as she can but it drips down her chin and onto her breasts.

"Tsk tsk, you're a mess", you say, chuckling darkly as you pull yourself in "Get up and take your dress off, we're going to have a chat while I claim your little pussy again".

Jessi stands up on shaky legs, her tiny body glistening with sweat and cum. Her once innocent face is now covered in your thick, sticky cum. Tears stream down her cheeks as the reality of what has just happened begins to sink in. She looks up at you with pleading eyes, silently begging you to comfort and reassure her.

You pull her towards you, hold her trembling body in your arms and let her rest on your shoulder. "Shhh, it's all right, my little girl", you coo softly, running your fingers through her tangled hair "I'm sorry, Daddy, I was naughty, I didn't mean any harm".

You slowly let her sit on you, her little body spreading out as you stroked her back. Her breasts, now covered with your fingerprints, rise with each shuddering breath. You lean down and take a stiff nipple between your lips, sucking and swirling your tongue around the sensitive bud. A soft moan escapes her as you lavish your attention on her abused breasts.

You align your still rock hard cock with her fully soaked pussy. With a slow, deep thrust, you bury yourself inside her, moaning as you feel her silky walls tighten around you. She lets out a cry, a mixture of pleasure and pain, as you thrust your thick cock into her cunt.

You begin to move, establishing a steady rhythm that makes her pussy throb around your throbbing cock. Her hands come to grip your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as you fuck her. Leaning down, you capture her lips in a passionate kiss, your tongue thrusting into her mouth to claim every inch of her.

Pulling away, you plant hot, mouth open kisses along her neck before latching onto her pulse point and sucking hard to leave your mark. She arched her back against you, her hips undulating in response to your deep, powerful thrusts. The wet sound of skin against skin echoes around the room, mingling with her moans of need.

"Sounds like someone needed that", you growl into her ear. "Your pussy is really tight, is it my big cock you miss so much?" Grabbing her hips hard enough to leave bruises, you thrust into her, the force of your thrusts bouncing her off your thighs.

Reaching between her spread thighs, you find her sensitive clit and begin to rub tight circles over the swollen bud. She lets out a high-pitched squeal, her head bobbing from side to side as you pull her closer to the edge. Her pussy begins to ripple and quiver around your cock, signalling her impending orgasm.

"That's it baby, let yourself go" you instruct as you pinch her clit between your fingers. "Play on my big cock like a good little slut". Her body tensed, her back on the table as her orgasm overwhelmed her. She begins to convulse, clear fluid gushing from her pussy, covering your cock and balls.

As you feel her tight pussy milking your cock, you let out a bestial grunt. Pulling out, you flip her stomach onto the table, grab your belt again, throw her head back and force your way into her still throbbing hole, giving her no time to come down from her euphoria.

You thrust into her with brutal, punishing strokes, the wet sounds of your cock sinking into her cum-soaked pussy obscenely loud. She moans and sobs, her battered body no match for your relentless assaults. The force of your thrusts shakes her entire body, her crushed tits swaying beneath her with each stroke of your hips.

Leaning over her, you bite her shoulder, growling and moaning like a wild beast as you thrust into her. Your balls slap against her clit with each thrust, bringing her to the brink of another earth-shattering orgasm.

"I'm going to cum, hold your pussy tight", you moan, your thrusts becoming erratic and you tug on your belt as your orgasm approaches. "I'm going to stuff my cum into this fertile pussy." You pound into her a few more times before thrusting deep and crashing against her womb. With a loud groan you explode, painting her insides with thick streams of hot cum.

You continue to rock inside her, driving your sperm into her quivering hole. She moans and gasps as your cock twitches inside her, each spurt sending sparks of pleasure and pain through her body.

Finally, exhausted, you collapse onto your back and pull her onto you. She lies limp, still impaled on your softening shaft, her mixed fluids flowing around your cock. You wrap your arms around her and hold her close as she kisses you lovingly, her small body shaking from the force of her orgasm.

"Shhh, it's all right now", you soothe her, covering her face and neck with soft kisses " I've missed your body, feeling your pussy milking me like that reminded me of all the times I got you pregnant, but we need to talk about what's next, darling". You whisper compliments in her ear until her breathing slowly calms down.

While you're still slumped on the bench, with Jessi resting on top of you, your phone buzzes with an incoming text message. Pulling it out of your pocket, you see that it's from your friend Mr Hang.

When you open the message, you are immediately greeted by an extremely obscene photo. In the shot, three young women - Seolhyun, Choa and Jimin are kneeling in front of the camera, their faces completely covered in huge ropes of thick, creamy cum. Each of their mouths is stretched around Mr Hang's huge semi-erect cock, obviously fresh from an aggressive blow job on its thick shaft. The bulging cockhead, coated in their saliva, glistens obscenely as it emerges between their lips. You can even see trickles of cum dripping from her chin and splashing onto her swollen breasts.

The sheer depravity of the photo makes your cock throb in Jessi's pussy. She moans and clenches around you in response to your arousal. A diabolical thought crosses your mind as to how to respond to Mr Hang's message.

Gently, you encourage Jessi to lift herself off your rigid pole. Cum immediately pours from her gaping hole, her stomach and thighs already soaked in the creamy cum you've pumped into her. It's at this moment that you realise just how much of your cum you've filled Jessica with - it's impossible not to get pregnant with such a load.

Moving surprisingly quickly for having just ejaculated inside her, Jessi collapses onto her back on the table and spreads her legs. Streams of pearly cum continue to ooze from her pussy, running down her slit and spreading over her tanned skin.

You reach out to steady Jessi's right ankle, lift her leg and use your other hand to tilt your phone for the shot. Through the lens you frame the perfect shot - Jessi's cum-filled pussy opening invitingly on the messy table, her swollen pussy lips smooth and glistening with your cum. Swirling ribbons of cum paint the insides of her thighs and the surface of the table a pure white.

You snap a few photos to immortalise the debauchery that followed your crude coupling, the obscene evidence of her well-trained hole. Pressing the screen, you send the most incriminating picture to Mr Hang in response to his obscene message, knowing that he will appreciate it.

As she rests her leg, she looks up at you coquettishly, her face flushed and her eyes heavy with desire. Your palm lands on her ass check with a resounding slap as you rub the pink imprint of your hand across her tanned skin.

"That's how I love you Jessica" you growl, your voice rough with lust. "And I'm far from finished with your wicked cunt, unless I change and hammer your arse".

Jessi moans in need and arching her back, presents her dripping cunt to you like a bitch in heat. You slap her arse again, leaving another red mark on her creamy cheeks. The way she moans and wiggles her hips fuels the fires of your excitement.

You push into Jessi's dripping pussy again as she lies on her stomach and spreads herself for you. "Remember that first night?" You ask, grunting as you sink deeper into her tight warmth. “When my little Jessica spread her legs for her daddy" She lifts her head and gives you a shy smile. "Oh yeah? You really remember our first time together ? When I signed that first contract?"

You grin, remembering clearly. "How could I forget? Eighteen years ago, you were this cheeky 17-year-old young rapper trying to make a name for yourself. So fucking eager and innocent, not realising what you were really getting into with me".

Jessi lets out a small laugh. "Innocent? Please, I knew exactly what I was getting into when I agreed to be your artist and personal fucktoy. I just had no idea how long you'd keep me around once you'd had your fun". Jessi moans, her back arching as she takes you completely inside her "Mmm yes, I'll never forget that Daddy", she moans. "You were so gentle... the first man to claim me completely".

You grip her hips tighter, your fingers digging into her soft flesh as you slap her roughly from behind. "And look at you now", you growl in approval. "My perfect little breeding slut. So eager for my cum."

"Always, my body and my womb belong to you," she says, thrusting herself back against you. "You're the only one who's ever satisfied me... who's ever filled me so well"

"Well, yes... that too. But also that you were the one. The girl I wanted to make mine forever," you slow your thrusts, savouring the feeling of her wet heat clutching you. "And I did. I've kept this tight pussy all to myself for eighteen years now."

"Mmm yeah, and what a crazy ride it's been..." Jessi muses, clutching my cock. "Like when I got knocked up, huh?"

You nod, remembering the panic and subsequent solution. "The first couple of times you told me you were pregnant, I nearly had a heart attack. I couldn't risk you carrying my child yet."

"Yep. Abortions and the morning-after pill have become my best friends'". She jokes dryly. "Although I suppose I should be grateful that you always went out of your way to help and support me afterwards".

You nod. "Yes, it's true. I could never get rid of that gorgeous bum, and I haven't even mentioned your tits" You punctuate the sentence with a hard slap on her hip.

Jessi yelps, then moans as she pushes herself back against me "Ffffuck, keep it up. I'll cum again if you do".

You smile and obey, picking up a relentless pace, watching her ass jiggle with each slam of your hips against hers. You slid one hand down her body to squeeze her tits as you fucked her mercilessly. "That's it, come for me Jessica. Squeeze my cock like the perfect little cock muff you are".

"Ungh, so close!" She gasps, the walls around you begin to throb, signalling her impending orgasm "Fuck, I'm coming again... I'm coming!"

Jessi's pussy tightened and she came with a loud moan, her whole body shaking with the force of her orgasm. The grip on her pussy was too strong and with a moan you buried yourself deep and came violently, shooting thick ropes of cum straight into her quivering pussy, still full from your previous load.

You collapsed together on the table, gasping for breath as the aftershocks rippled through us. After a moment you withdrew carefully, watching with satisfaction as your cum dripped out of her wet, saturated hole.

Jessi lay on her back and look at you with a lazy, satiated expression "Fuck, you really let it all out deep inside me, I'm not going to be able to get any more, look how my pussy is overflowing".

You giggle and take her in your arms. "Yes? Well, get used to it again. Because this body is still mine, as it has been for the last eighteen years. And I still have a long way to go before I'm done with it".

She smiled mischievously at you "Mmm, I love it when you get all dominant and take charge. I suppose this is the part where you stuff my pussy every day with your seed?"

You smile back and kiss her deeply, knowing she was right. "And I intend to keep this pussy mine for at least another eighteen years. At least. So get ready because the rules have changed, no more contraception or abortion, it's your turn to make me drink your milk, Mummy"

.

.

Your bedroom is softly illuminated by the glow of the bedside lamps. The air is thick with the musky scent of sex and sweat. Jessi lay on the king-size bed, her hair fanning out against the silk pillowcase. Her voluptuous body drenched in sweat, the marks of your passionate lovemaking visible on her ivory skin in the form of red scratches and love bites.

You stand over her, your handsome cock still semi-erect, glistening with a mixture of your combined juices. Her freshly crumpled contract, stained with traces of your thick, potent cum, lay forgotten at the foot of the bed, a testament to the depraved acts you'd just indulged in together.

"Please", Jessi moans, looking up at you with desperate, lustful eyes. "Come empty yourself inside me. I need to feel you come inside me again and again until my womb is filled with your seed."

She spreads her thighs in invitation, exposing her dripping, well-fucked pussy to your delight. "Make me pregnant, Daddyy. Now that my career is over, come and start my life as a mother. Please ravage me again!"

You tower over her, a predatory gleam in your eye as you watch the spectacle of debauchery before you. Your aching cock contracts and hardens at her shameless pleas, ready to deliver another massive load deep into her fertile young womb.

[readychilledwine]

A Helping Hand

Rhysand Week Day 4 : Lord of Night

Summary - High Lord, Husband, father. Rhysand's plate is just far too full, leading the Inner Circle to take over some duties.

Warnings - workaholic Rhysand, discussions of classism, new dad Rhys, platonic bond, loose editing so forgive me if I fix things later

A/N - I am so sorry this is late! I think someone *cough baby daddy cough* accidently deleted it when he did a run through for me. But anyways, happy late day 4 and day 5 of @officialrhysandweek! It'll be a double post day 💕

✨️Rhysand Week Masterlist✨️Rhys Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

“Please just let me handle this for you,” you were firm in the request, hand still on the request of approval to renovate the Opera house in the Rainbow. “We both know this project is completely unneeded. There is no reason for you to waste your time penning the letter.”

Rhysand stared at where your hand met the paper. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, “I-”

“No. It's time for us to have a serious discussion.” You took the paper from him and then held his hands. “Rhysand, you have spread yourself far too thin. You are not sleeping well with a newborn, you are helping Feyre as she's healing, you are recovering from trauma. Let me help you by organizing the report by who should actually be handling them.”

Rhys seemed to consider your words before nodding, “I want final-”

“Rhysand, we have known each other for 500 years. Do you truly not trust me enough to make a decision based on your preferences?”

He tugged that power exchange bond between the two of you, silently asking for a bit of your energy. You offered it to him without hesitation, without even so much as thinking about your well-being over his. “I do not want the fae in this court knowing I'm not the one running the court.” You couldn't help but sigh and roll your eyes and stare at him, blinking as if to say, “Duh.” His lips twitched into a smile at you, “What are you going to do, sweetheart? Forge my signat..” His eyes went wide as he realized that was exactly what you had planned. “I expect brief rundowns first.”

“And you will have them. Now go take a nap.”

The Inner Circle gathered in the new father's office claiming reports left and right. Cassian took anything involving Illyria and the training camps. Azriel took anything involving newcomers to the City of Starlight, border related issues, and requests for visiting. Mor and Amren split Hewn City. Dividing those reports among issues relating to rumors of uprisings or requests for help and sanctuary from tortured females. It left you with things regarding the inner workings of Velaris. You were curled in your own office, writing the rejection letter for the Opera House Project. The Opera House had been a gift to Velaris after Rhysand's return home. It was barely more than a few years old and every single feature had been planned to perfection by you and Rhysand as a way to heal the odd bind that tied you two together. The wealthy fae of Velaris were asking to redo the seating. Specifically, they wanted the seats to be made larger. 

You knew this wasn't for comfort. You had fallen in love with studying the patterns of consumerism throughout Prythian history. You knew this project was aimed at accessibility. Less sears meant higher prices for shows. Higher prices meant exclusion of the middle and lower classes. Exclusion from the arts was dangerous, though. Something you, Rhysand, and Feyre stood firmly against. 

Hours seemed to pass as you finished one thing and moved to the next, realizing how far behind Rhysand had gotten. He was hardly sleeping, rotating nights with Feyre, or just forcing her to sleep while he handled nights with a newborn alone. He was being the father he never had. One who earned the title of Dad, and you knew the last thing he'd want was the fae he cared so much for to suffer because of it. 

The sunset when Cassian arrived, his work completed. “Rhys has been given the gist of everything. I am to only have to send one thing to the camp leaders,” Cassian slid a letter, one penned by himself over to you. “Rhysie is having them start to direct all issues to me first. Using your whole chain of command idea.” 

Silence. 

Cassian's words were met with silence as you swallowed hard, holding in tears of pride. “He's delegating?!”

The commander nodded, scarred lips twitching to smirk. “He is.”

You'd never faked his signature so fast, quill flying across the parchments, “This is good.”

Azriel was next with Nuala and Cerridwen in tow, “City guard is to report issues to the twins from now on,” he leaned into his chair. “If they deem it serious enough, they will handle it unless I need to get involved.”

“And if you can't handle it,” you questioned as a joke. 

Azriel scoffed before schooling his reaction to your jab, “Then, and only then, is Rhys to get involved. My part of his reports are done and sent. I didn't think anyone would have issues with me answering security related issues.” 

They'd be a fool to, is what you wanted to reply with. Azriel was not the type of male to fuck with unless you had a death wish. He was petty at times and loved to plot. 

Mor came next, throwing herself dramatically into the chair. “I hate how your Office is a dry zone,” she groaned. “I'll be visiting daddy dearest.” 

You gagged at that and the two of you launched into a gossip session. Turns out, her father had taken Rhysand's recent absence in Hewn City as an open invitation to run a few illegal trade rings. Rings Mor was all too happy to be putting an end to. 

“That summarizes what Amren and I will both be dealing with,” she yawned, perfect red nails flying to her lips. “I'm going to bed.”

10.

11. 

Midnight.

2am rolled around and your door opened again, a sleepy Rhysand carrying a sleeping Nyx. “Go to bed,” his tone was commanding but held an air of affection to you. “You're no better than me.”

You only maintained eye contact, smirking as you put his name on a document approving a community vegetable garden and greenhouse, “Yet here we are,” you whispered. “All your reports, acquisitions, and petitions done and handled.”

His face fell, eyes shutting as he nodded, “You all got me caught up?”

With a wave of your hand, all the stacks vanished to their proper locations where they would sit and wait to be opened by their receivers. “We did,” you stood as silently as possible and moved to him and Nyx, “Do you want me to go lay him down?”

Rhysand only responded by pulling you into a tight side hug, his face burying in your hair, “How can I repay you for this? You have no clue what this meant to Feyre and I.”

The hug was payment enough. Contact with your best friend making that power bond hum as you hugged him back, “No repayment is necessary, Rhys. We all need help sometimes.”

“But-”

You whispered again, interrupting him, “We all need help sometimes.”

Understand, gratefulness, and admiration filled his almost violet colored gaze, “How did I get blessed with Feyre as my mate and you as my carranam?”

“Good question,” you shot back. “Maybe it was so we could keep you humble.” You took Nyx slowly, moving to walk the little heir back to his nursery. “Or maybe it was to keep you from dying in your office. Goodnight, Rhysand.”

You could tell he wanted to sass you back, to have the last word. It had been so long since that side of him came out, and you were glad to see a day of rest brought some fire back to him. He seemed to settle with nodding, walking backwards as he watched you take Nyx, “This isn't over. Once I wake up refreshed tomorrow, it's on. Goodnight, Y/n.”

General Taglist:

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[sunlighthroughthe-ashes]

i want to talk about how tenderly and tactfully the subject of trauma has been handled in family by choice. full credit to the original c-drama for the story — but the remake is my first introduction to the show and its premise.

families can be a person's first experience of a wound: that single unanswerable ache from which each of your hurts flow and fountain forward. it's rare for k-dramas to acknowledge this: to acknowledge that the individual to whom you are born may not belong to you. may not give you the grace you require to grow. may not take your small, hot hand; hungry for solace — and instead simply cast it aside. your family can be your first sharp disappointment — your first clear shock at the sheer ugliness of the world. to some, love is freely given — to others it is nothing more than a bone flung from a scant table. you hug the hunger like it's your own bed-pillow — it becomes your only home. the only house you ever live in.

through sanha & haejun's characters; one can see how the talons of trauma can mark you forever. both actors deserve accolades for the raw desperation and confusion in their eyes at the weight they're being asked to carry — especially inyoup. there's a muted, exhausted malaise in his eyes — the gaze of an adult caged within a teenager's body. by contrast, haejun appears younger than his years — a helpless, childlike hurt and betrayal borne by his eyes. both boys carry boulders unfit for such delicate shoulders — because there is a special kind of cruelty in asking a child to bear a burden that was never theirs to begin with. in lining their shoes with the gravel of grief since they were old enough to walk.

what does it to do to a child (in haejun's case) to be told that love is not intrinsic — and that it has to be earned? that it has to be paid back? what does it do to a child (in sanha's case) to be told that you are not enough as your own self — that you will never be forgiven for a flaw that was never yours to start with? what does it mean to taste a parent's neglect on your own tongue — to have it tint every part of your speech for the rest of time?

what does it mean to be a father to such children — as juwon's appa so fiercely upholds? to treat their scars as sacred. to harbor their hurts in his own hands. family by choice is as much about trauma as it is about healing — about the people knitted to you through their knowledge of your wounds; their patience with your past; their trust that your tears are temporary. about the neighbors, friends, and forged bonds that may not be of blood, yet sustain you nonetheless; surround your spirit with warmth. the people who choose you knowing the charred heartbreak in your chest — who love and accept you knowing the latticework of your loneliness: the people who press it all away with a single touch or smile – they are your true faith. they are your true family. they are the only ones who matter.

sanha, haejun, and juwon all have their crosses to bear — but they also have each other. there is always light to temper the dark. there is always sanha's eyes; and the way they soften when he looks at juwon: the jewel-toned reverence with which he reflects on every single thing she does for him. wherever there is trauma there is also and always a tryst with hope — a heart holding on to the idea that there will be more. there will be peace. there will be resolution. there will be sunlight at the end of the black silence.

family by choice reminds me of this quote by poet and novelist ocean vuong: "we were born from beauty. let no one mistake us for the fruit of violence—but that violence, having passed through the fruit, failed to spoil it."

[rin-hanarin]

I realized that I've never addressed the elephant in Lucanis's room, also known as his romance plot, as a "Had been delusional about him for months before release" individual, so here's a surprisingly long rant/summary of how I felt about it in the process of playing the game.

As a Rook de Riva player, I obviously loved "Coffee with the Crows": we met Illario, joked about haha three Crows talking about nothing, talked business, Rook and Lucanis had a nice moment getting to know each other better outside of being teammates, Rook de Riva's background was acknowledged again, it really felt like a nice bonding moment, right?

Thennn a whole lot of nothing happens during any of the conversations between them, huh. Lucanis doesn't acknowledge flirting, which is fine, take your time bud, you'll get there; you keep pushing being supportive, he ignores you, you deal with his personal stuff for him one (1) time, and in my case he then proceeds to ignore Rook for 10+ hours of pure game time while busy talking to Neve at every opportunity until I finally get one (1) dialogue option to "express romantic interest in Lucanis".

And let me express my honest innermost feelings on the matter:

Not only did it feel like Lucanis genuinely couldn't care less about Rook even as a friend, it also felt like Rook was forcing Lucanis into something he simply wasn't interested in and that we were just getting in the way of his relationship with Neve. It was genuinely unpleasant to experience in a videogame that is supposed to be wish fulfillment and whatnot, and let me tell you, it was especially jarring because Dragon Age games also have a tendency of occasionally making you feel like the most special little protagonist known to Thedas, at the very least to your companions who you're supposedly building bonds with.

I loved hangout events in this game, too, I was so happy to just have these conversations about whatever with companions, have these little one-on-one moments with them that genuinely felt like walks with friends (especially with my bro my bestie my homie Davrin), and with Lucanis it started and ended with the coffee date. His fears and doubts about Rook later are never addressed, and lol lmao even, yeah, why would they be, when it feels like he barely acknowledges Rook exists outside of accompanying him to deal with his problems, none of which need Rook there? There's no reason outside of gameplay for him to ask Rook and not, say, his favorite Neve he talks about everything to? Somehow a lot of times when I hoped for any sort of dialogue with him, I was met with him talking about something very personal like his current feelings about Illario to Neve, like, isn't Rook supposed to know anything about anything, or are we just his convenient weird coworker he sometimes asks favours from?

We persevere though and keep supporting Lucanis, and can you take a wild guess what was waiting for me after like 40 hours of the game and after the infamous "kabedon assassin style" scene? Yeah bro, Lucanis just happened to talk to Neve. I wish I was making this shit up. My coping strategy was to come up with an entire jealousy subplot for my Rook because if I have to feel like I'm in the shittiest unrequited situationship of a triangular shape, I might as well do it on my own terms, right? It feels petty and stupid because as a player I like Neve, too, she's one of the coolest (no pun intended) characters, but as Rook, and Rook de Riva making an obvious choice especially? Yeah, let's just say this relationship fucking sucked for a while.

So after many trials and tribulations we're finally back with Inner Demons, and yeah, Neve is there again, I couldn't even give a shit at that point, and I'll be real here, the locking in didn't feel like we went through angsty slowburn or that we earned Lucanis' trust. Remember DA2's Fenris situation? Because I suddenly did, and surely one of many, many Neve banters I had to eavesdrop on could be sacrificed to have one or two banters that acknowledged Lucanis's anything towards Rook at all?

Also, Spite? Spite seemingly likes Rook more than Lucanis does. In between "It's so over" and "We're so back" in the Fade Ossuary it feels like somehow Rook gets more bonding time with Spite, which is kinda crazy to me.

We are so back though! As I mentioned, I was a "delusional before release" individual, I am perfectly capable of filling the gaps and extrapolating meaning from implications, and here's where one of the most infuriating things is: the rest of the romance is good, too! I can write whatever the hell I want between the beginning and the end of it, but like, why should I? How should I go about it, when in my game I was under the impression that Lucanis would rather just spend time with anyone other than Rook for seemingly no reason in particular, because there's simply nothing there? The fact that none of my pre-release ideas or comics even necessarily contradict anything about Lucanis or his romance as it is now is more telling than impressive honestly.

So where do I land with this exactly? Well, mostly in the glorious Fanon Land where I've been making my silly comics the whole time anyway. The highs are high, I love what they did at the end and how stable, protective and devoted Lucanis is, but the lows made me salty as shit and I wish I didn't have to feel that way to begin with. I wish I didn't have to connect the dots and joke about how badly Lucanis sucks at this and "Let's go girl give us nothing." And yes, I know about writer lay-offs, rewrites, restarts, etc etc, and it's a miracle that this game came out at all, but it hardly matters when you're just trying to do the good old datesim part of a Dragon Age game and end up feeling like a third wheel while trying very hard to get anything out of the character you're interested in.

[raptorladylover6969]

Every time someone says “the raptors are gonna betray The Handler”, an angel dies; because genuinely, HOW.

How can one look at a bond like THIS and think, “Yup, they’re gonna kill her.”??????

Even with the laser pointer, which is said to “make the atrociraptors kill whoever it targets” I feel like even if the laser were to be pointed at The Handler, the raptors wouldn’t do anything.

When the laser was pointed at Soyona, Red was not hesitant to kill her. If anything, she’d probably kill her when given the chance to. “You can’t engineer loyalty, you have to nurture it.” Clearly Red isn’t loyal to you if she wanted to kill you 💀 and these raptors aren’t dumb, they’re extremely intelligent and are well aware of their actions. So to claim you have “control/loyalty” over these raptors is kinda stupid when you FEAR your own raptors, and when they won’t hesitate to kill you.

Soyona is just the buyer. The raptors might be hers, but deep down, they don’t believe they are hers. She isn’t their alpha, and she definitely doesn’t seem to be part of the pack as much as The Handler is.

In terms of pack behaviour within the atrociraptors, I’ve noticed they seem to value each other over the mission at hand. When Daniel Kon tried to grab and tackle and push one of them, they ganged up on him, killing him. When the T-rex and Allosaurus got out, they completely abandoned mission and started trying to take them out since they posed a danger to the pack. And these don’t just apply to the raptors alone, but also might be towards The Handler as well.

There was a scene in the s1 finale, the warehouse scene, when Mateo crashed into it, the raptors are knocked unconscious, everything comes crashing down, and The Handler is unconscious and stuck underneath a concrete beam. When the raptors wake up, there was a part where they all walk slowly to a specific area, the exact area where The Handler was laying. They all look at her, and each other, like they’re debating on what to do. There is a slight pause, and the sounds of clanging, before the raptors run out of warehouse, finishing what they started. Seeing The Handler atop the building at the end of that episode had me thinking, “How did she get that giant beam off of her?????” Until looking back at that scene with the raptors and realizing, they mightve actually pulled it off of her. They checked to see if she was still alive, and when confirming, they dragged the beam off to let her breathe, and regain conciseness.

So clearly the raptors also value her life as a member of their pack. They’re intelligent enough to know “she isn’t of our species” and yet, they still treat her like one of them.

“The control you can have over these dinos once you really take the time to earn it.” “You can’t engineer loyalty, you have to nurture it.” It wasn’t Soyona. It was never Soyona. The Handler was the one who earned the trust, the one who took time to earn it. Changed her own mannerisms to make the raptors relate to her more. Soyona is scared of Red. There is NO BOND there between them. She doesn’t even have the right accommodations for Red to even LIVE properly. She has her locked in a room inside her PENTHOUSE in the middle of THE CITY where she can’t even get the proper exercise or food probably. And the way Red started randomly crashing out in the van??? Did anyone else notice that and how random it was??????? Red is CLEARLY not comfortable, and yet you look at the rest of the raptor pack, and you can see just how comfortable they seem to be with The Handler.

The Handler most likely created the laser pointer herself just for Soyona so she could have some control, but in reality, the whistle is a more mutual way of communication, and I will say, much more precise. (Srry Soyona 💔)

Yeah, I think the raptors are off the “how The Handler dies” list.

[kismets-barista]

Hold onto your Stetson, @ohposhers; have I got some personal HickDory lore for you 😎💜🌟🫧

Excuse the insanity for those who don't feel compelled towards these two

SO!

Hickory and JD met a few good years before the events of the World Tour when Dory was traveling to find Lonesome Flats, got heatstroke and passed out in the desert. Wakes up to Hickory shadowed in the flickering light of a campfire beneath a canopy of the brightest stars he'd seen since the Neverglades, but it wouldn't be until QUITE a few months later until they really started developing crushes against each other. (Cowboy under the stars, you'd think he'd fall right then and there, right? 🌟)

Why was Hickory already in Lonesome Flats, you might ask? Where was Dickory?

In a glue trap, I say in response. Hickory came from Yodelsberg (is there a canonical name for this?) for international study and to learn about new music. He fell in love with country because yodeling and country music are actually quite gorgeous together. She Taught Me to Yodel, anyone?

Delta Dawn obviously didn't take to Dory showing up and around the town, but after some convincing by Hickory and lots of proving himself (plus a vulture attack that resulted in John Dory saving the very young niece of Delta Dawn- Clampers-) he 'earned' a place there and began to work around town.

It was weird for him.

He'd never quite settled down, until then.

(Now, the specific timeline, yearly I mean is a little muddled because I'm still crafting this, but I'll put them out about three years, now.)

John Dory was still living in Lonesome Flats, and he'd started a relationship with Hickory. They loved each other, as my cohort in crime @protagonist-art (CHECK OUT THEIR ART I LOVE THEM SM MUAH) has Hickory tell John when we get write them, "More than the moon loves the ocean." As surely as the tide pulls in and out, so the lovers return to each other.

So Via, what does Hickory think about BroZone?

Oh, my sweet star.

He doesn't know.

After returning to the devastated Troll Tree, John Dory lost a piece of his heart in the damaged pod they used to live in. It was the first time he went grey, and the memories of his brothers started shifting from what was, to what would never be again. He couldn't find it within himself to talk about them, and has his secrets.

But so does Hickory.

Girl wdym stop being so mysterious.

Heh. I know. It's just a glimpse into my dark mind /ref. Anyways, Hickory never told John Dory he was a Yodeler troll. (Another piece of lore that Quizzy and I worked on together and I think it's brilliant.)

Huh? Aren't they in a long-term relationship? Won't this cause issues later on if they don't share these things with each other?

Oh, they love every aspect of each other too much for their bond to truly be broken.

And yet.

One morning, years after just living and loving, John Dory wakes up with a massive headache and nausea.

"Maybe it's that horse that kicked me yesterday, could've gotten me harder than we both thought."

"Lemme check for a knot, Darlin'."

No knots, but there was an egg.

🌟 (Here I'll say that I'm massively in love with the headcanon that trolls conceive through true love- it isn't quite necessary for them to physically do anything unless they want to. Just them, wholeheartedly trusting and putting everything into their relationship and pouring their heart out to their partner.)

They were absolutely ECSTATIC, and rightfully terrified in their own ways. Neither of them were looking for children but not against it, and after resting for a few days they began to plan. A nursery in the house, baby books with millions of names scattered on the coffee table, toys and cute little baby clothes for when the little one hatched.

Wanna know two of the names John Dory had in mind? Rhonda and Dolly.

They were ecstatic until the night John Dory woke up absolutely ill and with a pit in his stomach.

They lost the egg, and it was the second time John Dory went grey in his life.

A week after this had happened, John Dory left a bundled lock of his hair at Hickory's nightstand and did what he knows how to do all too well. He ran.

Hickory never went too far out of Lonesome Flats in the hopes that John Dory would come back. He couldn't imagine what would happen if his love came back and didn't find him there.

The events of World Tour come about, Hickory meets Branch, and travels for the first time since John Dory left.

John Dory continued to travel, until the events of Band Together.

But don't worry, dear readers, for as surely as the tides come in, so will the lovers meet again. 🌟

Aaaand BOOM! That's it! 💜 I've got lore behind the names Rhonda and Dolly as well, and am SO down to answer any questions about them that anyone has. For you, Posh, thank you for asking and helping me to share a story I've been working on, and for everyone else that read this, thank you kindly! I hope that everyone who made it this far has quite a lovely day, or if you didn't, have a lovely day anyways!

Remember to take your meds, drink water, eat something, and stretch!

💜🌟🫧

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [CHOICELESS HOPE] ❞ — three. need in the devotee.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. summ.: the moment leading up to the kiss, the drumroll, is as good as the kiss itself. it's certainly more innocent. it's completely harmless. cw: canon divergent. emotional cheating. right person wrong time. no use of y/n. wc: 1k+.

previously

    First cases were always an awkward matter, getting to know new people, having them wonder if you were nice or not and wondering the same thing about them. You thought maybe having Dave around would make it less clunky. Irrevocably wrong you were, as you had to explain the divorce from your cheating husband when he asked how the bastard was.

    Everytime you thought about your divorce it made something in your brain twitch, it had been finalized four years prior but it still hurt, and you got mad at yourself for being hurt, not only because it was a hit to your gut, your non trusting nature decided to trust this one man and he broke it so easily. But it hurt more as deep down you felt like you deserved it. Like it was your karma. 

    “I watched you speak about the importance of profiling for crisis negotiation once. You seemed very passionate about it, almost like Hotch–” You held in a sigh as the genius boy possibly every unit had heard of spoke. You were an expert. A leader in your field. It just happened that your field was the one Hotchner literally wrote the book about. You would have to deal with the comparison constantly now. “Why did you transfer?” 

    “Not the pay, that I can assure you.” That earned you your first group laugh, some of them looking over at Rossi, possibly understanding now why he looked so enthusiastic about your transfer, or because he was the one who mostly talked about the fact the pay was shit. 

    “She was the only one available with experience, and she was forced to.” Aaron clarifies from his seat on the jet, having thoroughly read your paperwork by now. You nod in confirmation, not caring that it wasn’t the best look to have been forced into their unit. It was yours first anyway.

    “Familiarity with the way Hotch works was a factor too, it seems.” Some things don’t come written on paper, only the influence of being one of the unit’s founders, like Dave, guaranteed that type of information, or at least you thought so, as that fact didn’t come to you as reasoning. Still, you wouldn’t lose the opportunity to tease Aaron, even if only a bit. 

    “Familiarity is a way to put it, huh? Most of his methodology was created with me.” Scoffing loudly was his response while he shook his head in disbelief, the rest of the team glancing from you to him in curiosity. 

    “Maybe write a book about it then.” Two hours into the first jet flight and you could possibly punch him in the face to get that little shit eating grin out of it. Or maybe kiss him. 

    “I thought working with you two together would make me feel young again. It doesn’t. I’m too old for this now.” Dave points to you both and looks back to the files, bringing the conversation back to the case in hand. 

    First two months he tries not to favor your presence, sending you off with Derek, Dave or Spencer to check crime scenes, talk to suspects, witnesses, but like magnets you two always ended up beside each other, too close, shoulders touching while reading files and completing each other’s thoughts for the profiles. 

    You do try to keep your distance as best as you can as well, favoring sitting alone on the jet, talking to Emily or losing to Reid at chess, bonding with the team was an important part of what made any work the best work possible. And it’s not as in better workplace, but better at the job.

    Connecting with the team made profiling better, faster, that was why you and Hotch were quick to make connections, quick to see holes, patterns, when you were together. 

    Still you catch his annoying glances that he makes no effort to conceal when you lock eyes with him, instead he smiles with his teeth and waits for you to look away. And you usually do. 

    Las Vegas being the final destiny though, you had your mind set on not looking away when he did his well known dance of glancing and waiting for you to look back, instead getting up to your feet and walking over to him, savoring the soft, almost shy smile he gave you as he took in your every move, from your seat to the one by his side.

    You take a spray bottle out of the pocket of your FBI jacket and hand him without a word, trying to ignore the way he makes it his job to linger the soft brush your fingers against his as he read the information. 

    “Sunscreen? You know I don’t–” 

    “Don’t like the feeling on your skin, yeah, that’s a spray one, not sticky, not liquidy and it dries out completely.” Aaron listens to you intently, but still has his suspicions, being shown clearly by the way he furrowed his brows even though his heart was skipping several beats by your actions. 

    “What about the smell?” He’s properly fiddling with the bottle as if he was a kid with a toy, taking the cap off and trying to smell it through the sprayer, you roll your eyes and extend your arm to him. 

    “It’s unscented, touch and smell my arm, I’m wearing it.” You’re not really thinking it through when you almost shove your forearm on his nose, he obliges it and takes a deep breath, you feel the air leaving his nose in your skin and get suddenly shy. 

    His cheeks flush in warm pink, the product might be unscented but your skin smells like… You. He could recognize it from a mile away. He thinks to himself for a second and realizes that maybe if sunscreens had your scent he wouldn’t mind using them. And when his fingers softly touch your wrist, getting hold of it to lower it down, he is reminded of how soft you feel so he has no choice but to drop it or else he would be holding onto it for as long as you’d let him.

[bat-mom-writer]

Sparring Hearts

Summary: a fun evening with your sons and husband.

Reader(wife) X Bruce Wayne

Reader(mom) X Bat boys(Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Come on, old man," Dick teased, as they spared in the well-equipped underground gym of the Wayne Manor, "Is that all you've got?" His youthful exuberance bled through his words, a stark contrast to the calculated precision of his movements.

"Dick," Bruce's voice was firm, yet a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, "respect your elders."

The gym's lights flickered briefly, casting long shadows across the mat. It was a stark reminder of the tireless vigil they kept over Gotham, even in the safety of their own home. Tim watched from the sidelines, his eyes darting between the two combatants, noting every move, every feint, filing the information away for later use.

Damian, the youngest, standing beside Tim, arms folded. Despite his young age, he was the most serious of the bunch, his eyes burning with intensity as he studied his father and brother. "I can do better," he murmured under his breath.

The sound of bar feet echoing down the stone corridor interrupted their training. All heads turned as Bruce's wife entered. She was a picture of grace in her casual attire, her smile widening when she saw them all. "Gentlemen, it's time for dinner."

The trio of young men ceased their playful banter and took a collective breath, the air thick with sweat and determination. "We'll be there in a minute," Bruce assured her, wiping the perspiration from his brow. He knew the value of a well-timed break, and the sight of his wife brought a sense of peace to the otherwise intense environment.

Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she stepped closer to Damian, sliding her arms around his shoulders from behind. Damian, caught off guard, stiffened for a moment before relaxing into her embrace. It was rare for him to allow such affection, especially in front of his brothers. But tonight was different; something in the air suggested that this was a moment to be cherished.

Meanwhile, Dick and Bruce continued their spar, their movements more fluid and graceful as the tension ebbed. The banter between them grew more playful, their laughs bouncing off the gym walls. Their camaraderie was palpable, a testament to the bond that had formed over the years. The rhythmic clang of their weapons filled the room, each strike and parry a silent conversation that spoke of trust and respect.

Tim looked over at Damian, who was still nestled in she embrace, his eyes watching the other two with a hint of longing. He knew that his younger brother had grown up without a mother's warmth, and it filled Tim's heart with joy to see the change in him.

Tim decided to join the moment, running and leaping onto her back, his arms wrapping around her neck from behind. "You can't leave me out!" he exclaimed, laughter bubbling in his voice. She staggered playfully under the sudden weight, but her smile never wavered as she hugged them both, one hand on Tim’s shoulder and the other on Damian's.

"You're right," she said, her voice thick with sarcasm that didn’t quite mask the warmth, "How terrible of me to not invite you to a family hug." She playfully ruffled Tim’s hair, and even Damian's stern expression cracked a little as he rolled his eyes at their antics.

In the final moments of their spar, Bruce had managed to outmaneuver Dick. He caught the younger man's staff, twisted it out of his grip, and had him pinned to the floor. Dick grinned up at him, not a trace of defeat in his eyes, only the bright spark of competition. "Not bad for an old man," he quipped, earning a chuckle from Tim and a raised eyebrow from Damian.

Bruce offered a hand to help Dick up. "Age is but a number," he said, clapping him on the back, "It's wisdom and experience that truly count." He looked at each of his sons, pride shining through the stoic mask he often wore.

She approached Dick with Tim still clinging to her back, his legs wrapped around her waist. "Oh my poor baby," she cooed, inspect an imaginary bruise on Dick's cheek. Tim giggled, feeling like a child again, free from the burdens of his nightly patrols. Dick, ever the showman, played along, dramatically wincing and nuzzling into her touch.

"Did daddy hurt you?" she asked, her voice full of feigned concern. Dick took the opportunity to make an exaggerated sound of pain, "Ow, ow, ow," his voice rising in pitch with each syllable, making Tim laugh even harder. Damian rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lips. It was a rare sight to see his usually stoic father interacting so playfully with his siblings.

Bruce stepped back, his own smile growing. "Wise guy," he said, shaking his head at Dick, "You know you had that coming." The room was filled with the sound of good-natured ribbing, a stark contrast to the solemnity of their typical training sessions.

"Bruce, how could you?" her voice was light, teasing. "Hurting your own son like that," she playfully scolded, her eyes dancing with mirth.

Dick took full advantage of the moment, allowing his head to loll back into she embrace as he made a dramatic show of wiping a tear from his eye. The sound of his fake sobs was anything but convincing, coming out more as a series of stifled giggles. Tim's laughter grew louder, his grip on her tightening as he bobbed up and down with each burst of mirth.

"And right in front of your other sons," she said, her voice lightly chiding, though her eyes sparkled with affection as she reached up to pat Tim's head, smoothing his messy hair.

Bruce chuckled, the sound a deep rumble in his chest. It was a sound they didn't often hear, but when it did surface, it was like a warm embrace, wrapping around the room and the hearts of the people in it. "It's all part of the job," he said, his smile genuine as he stepped closer to the group, his arms open.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed playfully, her eyes widening as she saw Bruce approaching. She playfully swung Tim around, setting him on his feet. "Bruce is going in for another attack! Run, my precious little birdies!"

Her words snapped them out of their moment of light-hearted banter. Dick and Tim took off, their laughter echoing through the gym as they sprinted towards the exit, their footsteps pounding against the cold concrete floor. Damian, ever the stoic, took a more dignified approach, sauntering away with a smug look on his face, as if the mere suggestion of running was beneath him.

Bruce watched them go, his eyes lingering on Damian before turning back to his wife. "Thank you, darlin," he said, the warmth in his voice genuine. "They need moments like this."

She stepped closer to him, her hands coming to rest gently on his arms. "And so do you, love," she replied, her gaze searching his. "You carry so much of this world's burden on your shoulders. "

Her words resonated deeply within him. As Bruce, he often found himself lost in the shadow of the Bat, the weight of his crusade against injustice ever present. But as a father and a husband, he knew that moments of levity were essential for their sanity. He leaned down to kiss her, feeling the warmth of her lips against his. It was a simple gesture, but it recharged him, reminding him that there was more to life than the never-ending fight.

"You're right," he murmured against her cheek, "I'll join you in the dining room."

As the boys disappeared up the stairs, their laughter echoing in the corridor, she stepped back, her hands on Bruce's shoulders. "Yeah, and then you need a shower," she said, her voice teasing.

Bruce sighed, a hint of exhaustion seeping into his smile. "Always bossy," he murmured, bending down to kiss her again, this time lingering a moment longer, savoring the feeling of her in his arms.

"Someone's got to keep you in check," she replied, her hands moving from his shoulders to cup his cheeks, her thumbs gently brushing the stubble that had formed during their training. The moment was tender, a brief respite from the chaos they all faced each night.

[tototalks]

Three quarters through King’s Rising! 🛡️🗡️

This will probably be my second to last post covering the main story, and honestly what am I actually going to do with myself after the end of this trilogy? 🫠

- Laurent and Jokaste finally meeting each other girlboss to girlboss. Blonde bitch to blond bitch. I’m living for it. Feels like watching a game of chess.

- THE BABY!!! 😨 Hard to know if she’s telling the truth on this one. But I like that either way Laurent may be a schemer and plotter, but he will not put a child in harm’s way. (Personal headcanon that after he becomes king, he outlaws underaged pets and calls it ‘Nicaise’s Law’)

- “I’m just here.” - Damen has been through so much in such a short space of time. It makes sense he just feels numb as is burned out. He’s been endlessly supportive and needs that support reciprocated too.

- The entire conversation between Damen and Laurent finally being their true identities and selves. So so vulnerable and bare. Finally all out in the open with no more secrets. Being scared and doing it anyway. I adored this. ♥️

- I also love that they’re sexually passionate for each other. Laurent especially is finally getting to take charge of his own sexuality with someone he loves and trusts. Truly stellar writing throughout that whole scene. My heart aches in a good way this time. They can finally just be in love.🙂

- I can really get behind the idea of Auguste and Damen getting along really well had circumstances been different. I feel so robbed of the fact they never got to be brothers-in-law.

- Veretians will never not confuse me with their “your ankles are showing” fully laced and buttoned modesty contrasted to the whole “oh yeah the council view the consummation of marriage.” thing - poor Pallas lol.

- Watching Laurent and Damen banter and tease and smile and laugh is literally everything I wanted for them.

- Someone should tell Kyrina snitches get stitches.

- Jokaste: “he’s a snake.”

Damen (heart eyes): I know 🥰

- Damen seeing Laurent in Akielon clothing and fully Looney Tunes dropping a pitcher of water. Iconic. That’s your man, hun, take it in. You earned it!

- LAURENT DID NOT JUST PRETEND TO BE JOKASTE 😂😂😂😂😂

- Imagine being Nikandros and trying to give your friend some advice to take his best rider on their next Metal Gear Solid mission only for said friend’s feral albino cat who hates you to butt in and declare himself just that person. Wild. Someone help Nik.

- I love that every time something goes down everyone is like “well Kastor is dumb af so this must be Jokaste’s doing.” As 👏 she 👏 should 👏

- “Is this how you do things in Vere?” “What? Effectively?” Lol okay Elle Woods

- The Akielons and Veretians bonding around the fire. There is hope for peace.🥺

- LAZAR AND PALLAS??!! I AM IN FULL SUPPORT!! (I did this with Jord and Aimeric too, so please turn out better than that, I beg.)

- As someone in an intercultural and interracial relationship, I love that Laurent and Damen can rib each other about the differences in their customs and laugh about it while also showing each other the best of it. Accurate and sweet ♥️

- And off we go through Akeilos!! I am so excited for the final chapters! 🥰

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

What are some of the best ways to get a Tardis to like you?

How do you get a TARDIS to like You?

So, you've found yourself standing in front of a TARDIS, and you want it to like you, huh? Here are some tips on how to make that beautiful time machine fall head over heels for you.

💙 Understand That Every TARDIS Is an Individual

No two TARDISes are the same. Each one has their own quirks, preferences, and personality. Some might enjoy a bit of bants, while others might appreciate quiet. Treating a TARDIS as an individual—not just a tool or transport—is step one in earning their trust.

🧽 Keep It Clean and Maintained

TARDISes might be alive, but they still have mechanical components. Show your TARDIS you care by keeping things clean and well-maintained. A deep clean of their console room, some polish on the struts, and regular diagnostics on their systems go a long way.

🤝 Spend Time With Them

If you're the pilot, make time for your TARDIS. Engage with them. Wander through their halls. Show genuine interest in their quirks and features. A TARDIS is deeply connected to their pilot, and they appreciate pilots who value that bond.

If you're a passenger, the best thing you can do is be kind to the pilot. A TARDIS can be fiercely protective of its pilot, and nothing will sour your relationship faster than badmouthing their Time Lord.

🎁 Show a Little Gratitude

TARDISes go through a lot for their crew—hurtling through time and space, dodging paradoxes, and occasionally shielding you from annihilation. Saying thank you, even in small ways, matters.

⚡ Don't Hurt or Abandon Them

We stress again - TARDISes are living beings. They feel neglect and abandonment deeply. If you're lucky enough to bond with one, take care of them. Regularly update their systems, don't overload their engines unnecessarily, and never leave them stranded or unpiloted for too long if you can help it. If you have to, be sure to have a darn good reason.

🏫 So ...

Treat a TARDIS with care, respect, and kindness—like any living creature. Show them you value their individuality, keep them well-maintained, and always respect the bond they share with its pilot. A happy TARDIS is a loyal TARDIS, and who wouldn't want a time machine that actually likes them?

Related:

🤔|🛸🧬The Life Cycle of a TARDIS: How TARDISes are born, grow, and die.

💬|🛸👽Could a Time Lord and a TARDIS be in a relationship?: Potential relationships twixt Time Lord and TARDIS and the intimacy of the symbiotic connection.

💬|🛸👽What happens to a TARDIS when its bonded Time Lord passes away?: Examining mourning and ‘oh well’ tendencies in TARDISes.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any purple text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired😴

[small-z24]

Shadows of Fate 2

Summary:

Y/n, Cassian's shy and quiet sister, prefers to keep to the shadows. Unbeknownst to her, she is Azriel's mate. His shadows are inexplicably drawn to her, and as they grow closer, a slow-burn romance ensues. Cassian, ever protective of his sister, watches over her as the bond between Y/n and Azriel deepens.

Chapter 2: Keeping Secrets

Cassian had always been protective of Y/n. As the older brother, he felt it was his duty to keep her safe from the world’s dangers. When their parents died, Cassian had taken on the role of both brother and protector, a role he took very seriously. So when he noticed Y/n spending more time with Azriel, his instincts kicked in.

One evening, Cassian stood on the training grounds, watching Azriel as he practiced his swordsmanship. The movements were fluid and precise, a testament to Azriel's skill. Cassian waited until Azriel finished his set before approaching.

"Az, can we talk?" Cassian’s voice was casual, but there was a seriousness in his eyes.

Azriel nodded, sheathing his sword. "Of course. What’s on your mind?"

Cassian motioned for them to walk, leading Azriel away from the others. "It's about Y/n," he began, glancing at Azriel to gauge his reaction.

Azriel’s expression remained calm, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes. "Is she alright?"

"She's fine," Cassian replied quickly. "But I've noticed you two spending a lot of time together."

Azriel nodded slowly. "Yes, we have. We’ve been getting to know each other."

Cassian stopped walking and turned to face Azriel, his gaze intense. "Az, she’s my sister. She’s been through a lot, and I don’t want to see her get hurt."

"I understand," Azriel said, meeting Cassian’s gaze steadily. "And I care about her, Cassian. More than I can explain. I would never hurt her."

Cassian studied him for a long moment before sighing. "Alright. But just know, I’m watching. She means everything to me."

Azriel nodded, a solemn promise in his eyes. "I won’t let you down."

Cassian gave a curt nod before walking away, leaving Azriel standing alone with his thoughts. Azriel knew that gaining Cassian’s trust wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined to prove himself worthy of Y/n.

The next few days were filled with cautious interactions. Cassian kept a close eye on Y/n and Azriel, watching their every move. Y/n noticed her brother’s increased protectiveness but chose not to confront him, understanding his concerns. Meanwhile, she and Azriel had decided to keep the fact that they were mates a secret, at least for now. They didn’t want to stir up any trouble or cause Cassian unnecessary worry.

One evening, as Y/n was reading in the library, Cassian approached her. "Hey, can we talk?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

Y/n looked up, setting her book aside. "Of course, Cass. What’s on your mind?"

Cassian sat down beside her, his expression serious. "I just want to make sure you’re alright. With Azriel, I mean."

Y/n smiled gently. "I’m alright, Cassian. Azriel has been nothing but kind and respectful. He makes me feel safe."

Cassian sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know. I just... I worry about you."

"I know you do," Y/n said, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "And I appreciate it. But I need you to trust me. Trust that I can make my own decisions."

Cassian nodded slowly. "I do trust you, Y/n. And I’m trying to trust Azriel. It’s just... hard."

"It’s hard for me too," Y/n admitted. "But I think Azriel is worth it."

Cassian studied her face for a moment before nodding. "Alright. Just promise me you’ll be careful."

"I promise," Y/n said, giving him a reassuring smile.

****

Azriel felt the weight of Cassian’s scrutiny, but he remained patient, knowing that earning the warrior’s trust would take time. He continued to spend time with Y/n, their bond growing stronger with each passing day.

One evening, as they sat together in the garden, Azriel turned to Y/n. "How are you feeling about all of this?" he asked softly.

Y/n looked at him, her eyes reflecting the soft glow of the moonlight. "It’s a lot to take in," she admitted. "But I’m glad we’re taking it slow. I feel like I’m getting to know you, really know you."

Azriel smiled, his heart swelling with affection. "I feel the same way. And I want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what."

"Thank you, Azriel," she said, reaching out to take his hand. "I appreciate that more than you know."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the night air filled with the scent of blooming flowers. Azriel’s shadows wrapped around them, creating a cocoon of intimacy and safety.

As they sat together in the garden, surrounded by the night’s embrace, Y/n felt a sense of peace and belonging she had never known before. She knew the journey ahead would be filled with challenges, but with Azriel by her side, she felt ready to face whatever came their way.

Despite the growing bond between Y/n and Azriel, Cassian remained wary. He watched them closely, his protective instincts on high alert.

One evening, after training, he cornered Azriel. "Az, we need to talk."

Azriel sighed inwardly but nodded. "Alright, Cassian. What is it?"

Cassian’s eyes were hard, his jaw set. "I know you care about Y/n. But I need to be sure that you understand what this means. She’s my sister. If you hurt her..."

"I won’t," Azriel interrupted, his voice firm. "I swear to you, Cassian, I will protect her with my life. I would never hurt her."

Cassian searched his eyes for any sign of deceit, finding none. Slowly, he nodded. "Alright. But just know, I’m trusting you with the most important person in my life."

Azriel nodded, a solemn promise in his eyes. "I won’t let you down."

As the weeks turned into months, the bond between Y/n and Azriel deepened. They spent countless hours together, talking, laughing, and simply enjoying each other’s presence. Y/n found herself falling for Azriel, her heart swelling with love for the quiet, shadowed warrior.

One evening, as they sat together on a secluded balcony, Azriel turned to her, his eyes filled with emotion. "Y/n, there’s something I need to tell you."

She looked at him, her heart skipping a beat. "What is it, Azriel?"

He took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. "I love you, Y/n. More than anything. You are my mate, my heart, my everything."

Tears filled her eyes as she reached out to cup his cheek. "I love you too, Azriel. With all my heart."

They shared a tender kiss, the world around them fading away. In that moment, Y/n knew that she had found her true home in Azriel’s arms.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this continuation of Y/n and Azriel's story. Feel free to leave comments and let me know your thoughts!

[lisannastraussisanangel]

oh oh oh i’ve got one :D

guild members’ relationships with makarov headcanons!

Omg this is gonna get me so emotional! This post is gonna be so long holy shit

Makarov knows that these kids are super traumatized when they come to him. That's why he dresses like a funny little jester man. He doesn't want to scare them when they first join

He always takes the time to get to know and work with each kid that joins the guild. Makarov will take that child under his wing for the first week just to make sure they are comfortable

A lot of the members genuinely refer to him as their grandpa/dad (depending on which generation).

Makarov was still figuring out how to deal with children when Cana first joined. He feels he didn't do a good job at helping her when she first came

Cana, of course, disagrees and thinks the old man did a great job at helping her out when she joined

Cana has a ton of respect for him so when he asks her to cut down on drinking. She does so without question. (cutting down meaning drinking one barrel of liquor instead of two)

The two of them do regularly drink together tho

Gray goes to Makarov for advice the most out of the guild members. He really struggles with making the right decisions and Makarov is always there to listen with only minor judgement

Gray feels super indebted to Makarov. Even tho Makarov tells him all he wants for any of his kids is to live long and happy lives

Erza gave Makarov the most trouble when joining the guild. He had no idea how to get through to her. She was always polite and listened to him, but he couldn't get her to open up for the life of him

He just desperately wanted to make the little girl smile. The first time Erza smiled at him, he bawled his eyes out

Erza always makes sure to shoot him a smile when she enters the guildhall now

Natsu decides that since Makarov found him, he now owes Makarov his life. Makarov nearly has to beat it into Natsu that he does not owe him anything and that he is not to lay his life down for Makarov

Natsu then decides to live by the rule: 'you saved my life so now I'm your problem'

Natsu has so much respect for Makarov it's not even funny. But Natsu's love comes with a price. And that price is constant headaches

Mirajane actually didn't like Makarov all that much at first. She appreciated him bringing her family to the guild but she thought he was too lax with how he ran the place

The two of them really bonded after Lisanna's death

Lisanna adores Makarov. She's one of the few people who can catch him off guard and tackle him in hugs (it happens a lot. you'd think he'd catch on by now)

Elfman views Makarov as the perfect man. He wants to be like him. Makarov insists Elfman should find better role models

Mystogan views Makarov as his father. He cannot imagine anyone else who deserves the title

Mystogan's biggest regret was not being able to tell Makarov how much he appreciated everything he did for him

Bisca and Alzack were so upset that Makarov wasn't there for their wedding that they ended up getting remarried just to have him be a part of it

Every time Makarov compliments Gajeel, Gajeel has to fight back tears. He worked so hard to earn Makarov's trust and respect so now every time the guy is nice to him its almost enough to send Gajeel into a sobbing mess

[klausysworld]

hello can you do a second part of "Please go away" of klaus's soul mate, where y/n is regaining his confidence and starts to go out and lead his normal life but he continues to receive gifts from klaus, maybe he will meet an old friend at the grill, and Klaus sees them and gets jealous, and when he leaves with his friend he tries to attack her and Klaus saves her and she forgives Klaus, but they are not together, she just accepts that they are soul mates and that they will go slow so that klaus earns your trust.

Please leave pt 2

PT1

Y/n had been terrified of leaving her house for weeks.

The unbearable fear that Klaus would be round every corner.

It took her ages to feel comfortable in her own garden.

Forever to be able to go out to the actual shop instead of online.

She was checking over her shoulder constantly and sometimes she would even catch a peek of him.

It took a while but eventually she seemed to realise he wasn’t trying to hurt her, he wasn’t getting too close to her. So she began to call out to him, not always when she wanted to.

Like when it was dark and she was walking home alone but she knew he was there

“Klaus?” She called softly “can you just walk with me? Please?” She asked nervously.

But when he came to her and brought her home, she couldn’t help the small amount of security she felt from it.

He walked beside her but didn’t touch her, he respected her need for her space and remained a reasonable distance away from her, only getting closer when he heard people talking and worried they would get near her.

It was soon after that she began to receive gifts from him. Simple things to begin with: bouquets, chocolates, little notes.

He didn’t want to overwhelm her. He just wanted to show her that he was more than a monster who she was afraid of.

That he truly wanted to be with her and love her like a soulmate should.

He found that his smaller gifts were more appreciated than his extravagant ones. Giving her a bouquet of glazed strawberries earned him a hug and a kiss on the cheek compared with the heart shaped diamond pendant he gave her which she panicked over and forced him to take back.

He made sure to protect her, whether it was walking her home or throwing someone to the ground when she cried out for him to help her. And although furious that someone dare lay a hand on her, he refused to frighten her again, he just wanted to keep her safe.

She was still a little anxious whenever he engaged in physical contact. The sliver of fear in her eyes that he would grab her again always visible in the back of her mind but at the same time, she knew he wouldn’t.

He knew she had accepted their bond, he could feel it. But he knew she wasn’t ready for the extent he was. She hadn’t been waiting a thousand years like he had.

He tried to slowly ease her into the relationship, his hand just gently holding hers as he walks her home so she felt safer. Until eventually his arm could be around her waist.

His leg just touching hers when they sat beside each other. Until eventually she would have her head against his chest and arms around him.

Pressing a feather like kiss to her hair when leaving her or greeting her. Until eventually she would have her lips to his.

The relationship was a slow build up but entirely worth every second when he got to look down at her, curled up in his arms and he kissed her head lovingly.