#but will happily kill you if you bother her

[mischiefmagpie]

THROWS A BOTTLE INTO ROUGH SEAS CONTAINING ONLY THIS IMAGE AND NOTE:

I did it. I finally drew something for Mermay. Wanna hear about my dnd OCs?

[maliciousalice]

Hear me out (or don't... it's fine I'm just venting and mean) yeah um I don't believe Chakotay was saved in Prod*gy s2.

[marypsue]

I'd love to hear your thoughts on S1 of ST being a tragedy! No main character dies, so I never thought of it that way before

I mean, nobody has to die for a story to be a tragedy (at least, in the modern definition. I'm pretty sure '(almost) everybody dies' is a requirement of Greek tragedies and Renaissance revenge tragedies). But also, no main character dies in season one...if you take season one as part of a series. Which it wasn't originally conceived as.

I am not going looking for copies of the original pitch bible, because I am lazy, and also I only saw them floating around this webbed site. But the show changed a lot from the initial pitch (Joyce had a Long Island accent! Lucas' parents were divorcing! Murray was there and named Terry Ives! Most of what ended up in Hopper's character originally belonged to Mr. Clarke! The original pitch bible is fascinating). And part of the original pitch was a proposal for possible sequels.

The Duffers' proposal for a possible sequel was "It's ten years later, and Eleven is dead".

So that's the setup. Everything that came after season one was made up wholecloth after season one was a hit and people wanted more, but also people loved the adorable little psychic murder child (cue the Duffers shockedpikachu.jpg) and Netflix obviously recognised it would be a bad call to make a new season without her in it. So it makes sense to take season one as a unit, as a self-contained story on its own. You can also take it as part of a whole, but it makes sense to read it first as a complete story. Especially given the thematic drift of later seasons and the way they are...I'm just going to say it, each new season is very much added-on to what came before rather than being built on foundation that the earlier season(s) laid. It is very clear there was never a planned five-season story arc from the beginning. (This isn't necessarily always a bad thing, when it comes to sequels, but it does mean it makes sense to 'read' each season as its own thing.)

Okay, now that we've established all of that. Season one has one very clear goal, one very clear stake for the characters: save Will Byers from the Upside Down. (I like this. It makes the stakes both extremely high and extremely personal, it makes it very easy to understand each character's motivation, it also keeps the stakes grounded in reality. I like this a lot.) And by the end of the season, that goal is accomplished. So at first blush, you're right, season one doesn't look like a tragedy.

But when you start to unpack it a little, you start to see just how many important things were lost along the way. It's most glaringly obvious with Mike and El, with Nancy and Barb. The whole Wheeler family is fractured down the middle, with Mike and Nancy on one side and Ted, Karen, and Holly on the other, and Karen, who's been trying so hard the whole time to be part of her children's lives and understand what's going on with them, is aware of the ever-expanding gulf between them but will never be able to cross it, and will never fully know why. Hopper's finally managed to snatch a kid out of the jaws of death, save a woman he obviously cares about from the pain of losing a child, and Joyce has finally had someone believe her, support her, trust her. But it became blindingly obvious to me on my fourth rewatch that Hopper's plan, from the moment he went to leave the middle school gym, was always to trade El for Will. And that decision (and the fact that Joyce obviously understands that he did something to get the lab to let them go after Will, but she obviously doesn't dare press him on what) has broken her trust in him, and left him with what looks like an equally heavy burden of guilt as what he was carrying before. The lab stays open. The government gets away with everything. No one will ever know the true extent of the hurt they've caused.

And in the end, none of it even saved Will. He's back. He's alive. But he's spitting slugs in the sink. He's permanently marked by the Upside Down, and by trying to hide it from his family, he's putting a crack down the centre of them, as well. They're losing Will, just as surely as they had when they thought he was dead, just without him going anywhere.

And there's still a hole in the world.

The fragile bonds of community, the things that people share in common, the way catastrophe can bring people together and bring out the very best in them, are the major thematic threads woven through season one. Human connection is the only thing that can change what seems inevitable, the only thing that can bring back what's seemingly lost forever.

And it's still not enough to protect anyone from the random tragedy of the world.

The love was there. The love mattered. The love bent the entire course of the world around itself.

And it still wasn't quite enough.

If that's not a tragedy, then I don't know what is.

[norrisleclercf1]

OKAY I LOVE YOUR WRITING STYLE PLEASE

can you do a charles x reader fic about her leaving marks on him and him being proud if jt

A/N: Charles would lowkey be so smug about it

Charles just smiled at you, waving softly across the garage, but you ignored him as you stared at the marks you left a little too high and how he wasn't even attempting to cover them up.

Last night you had gotten a little jealous, unable to help as pretty girl after pretty girl took pictures with Charles and gushed over him. Granted you were so happy for the fans to meet him and take pictures with him, but hey, you still get jealous.

So, when you shoved him against your hotel wall, he happily let you leave your marks all over him. He left before you, kissing your cheek and slipping out of the room. When you woke, to your phoen going crazy you didn't even check the messages going straight to Twitter and suddenly your thought of coffee was gone, instead the adrenaline kicked in.

There he was, wearing a black shirt that was practically see-through shirt and there he was smirking and angling his head perfectly for your marks to be seen and that's how you ended up here.

One his side of the garage, his hair messy as he pulled his fireproof down and little bit more you felt the mechanics stare at you, your face warming and you look away and slide on your sunglasses.

You don't bother to turn feeling his presence as he slides his arms around your waist and places a soft kiss on your shoulder "Love you," He whispers, but you just nod and go back to watching the screen where he chuckles and leans around, stealing a kiss.

"Cover the marks," You hiss, but his smirk just grows and shakes his head no. "No way, love, when you leave marks on me," Charles whispers and nips your neck which has you shoving him away. "Don't you have a car to drive," Charles chuckles and walks off, pulling his neckline down further. People staring at him and then at you. Yeah, you were so going to kill him tonight.

"Leclerc," You threaten and he stops seeing how people were staring at you and him, "Okay, okay," He whispers and walks back over quickly kissing you before rushing to the car and hopping in.

"Vampira," Brian coughs and you turn glaring at your boyfriend's engineer. "Skeleton," And he turns a bored expression on his face. "Touche," You smile and nod turning as Charles pulls out onto the Monza track, this was going to be a long weekend.

[dolicekiss]

Hi,

I heard you were taking requests again, so I hope you don‘t mind me dropping one here.

Could you please write a story/one-shot, which takes place in the Hannibal universe, where Hannibal falls for one of his patients, who was a victim of a murderer, but managed to escape unscathed. When the murderer resurfaces again, she needs to stay with him and slowly he makes her depend on him. After hearing the news of his latest kill, Hannibal twists/abuses the situation to make her seek comfort from him.(with nsfw?)

Fragile Minds

PAIRING: Dark!Hannibal Lecter X Fem!reader

CONTENT WARNING: SMUT (18+, mdni please), coercion, adult grooming, taking advantage of reader, manipulation, trauma, mention of kidnapping, mention of nightmares, PTSD, gaslighting, age gap (unspecified but legal), unprotected sex, fingering, kissing, choking, bruising, slight fluff, infatuated hannibal who'll do anything to have reader.

Therapy was merely an escape.

For you, it was.

An escape from the people who gave you pitiful looks, sympathizing with you. Feeling bad for a girl like you who suffered from so much at such a young age.

You resented it. Everytime when you'd attend dinners at your relatives’ houses or when your friends would gaze at you with a sad pathetic look, treating you like some fragile little girl who needed extra care. It was all overbearing for you.

Hannibal Lecter’s office was the perfect escape.

He did not see you as some broken little doll, no. Rather he validated you, understood you, listened to you and made you feel comfortable in his presence. The only person who did not look at you with a pitiful, sad gaze.

You saw him as a kind and polite man who attended to your needs, your mental needs and took care of you in a way no one else had ever before.

You'd attended your session again, with a smile on your face. When the door to his office you opened, your smile widened and Hannibal returned it. You simply loved how he had created a safe space for you, how he did care for your well-being. You were his patient so it was his job but at least he was better than all the other people who only saw you as some broken shell.

“Hello.” Hannibal greeted and you nodded your smile, stepping inside. “Good evening, Doctor Lecter.”

His smile lines deepened. “Good evening. How are you feeling today?”

You slid off your leather coat, hanging it over the hook. Hannibal lead you to your seat and you happily followed, a constant routine which you'd gotten used to. Hannibal sat before you, on his own brown leather couch.

“I feel alright." You coyly said, hands toying with each other. Not a sign of discomfort but rather nervousness. Hannibal had made sure that you were comfortable around him.

Hannibal was not a man that was easily swooned away yet he was completely in awe whenever you played with your hands, twisting one finger over the other. That habit of yours was adorable to him, sort of akin to him.

Hannibal tilted his head.

You licked your lips. “I feel alright but I have nightmares about what happened.”

You had sort of disconnected from your trauma as that was the only way you could possibly cope. Hannibal noticed it but he didn't say much, when he should have. It was only to bring you closer to him, to make you depend on him.

“What do the nightmares consist of?”

“Him dragging me through a dark alley and showing me where he'll bury me.” You said all that so nonchalantly, Hannibal knew you hadn't broken up about it yet.

Ever since the incident, you shut everyone out. Felt like discussing about what happened and how it made you feel was not necessary at all and when the FBI advised you to speak to their psychiatrist, in order to help you regain the suppressed memories of the assault you'd encountered, it worked.

Hannibal smiled. “Does it scare you? You have trouble sleeping?”

You blinked, shaking your head. “No, I wake up numb. I was told it is unhealthy to not feel anything regarding this matter.”

“Are you bothered that he has not been apprehended yet?” You nodded your head in response.

You'd nearly died that rainy night. Your perpetrator had fully planned to murder you that night as you were the perfect victim in his followed pattern but somehow you managed to survive. Got away when he was busy digging up your grave.

The feeling that overcame you when you witnessed your own grave, where you'll be buried after your life has been snatched away from you — it was too foreign. A different type of overwhelming fear which consumed you to the point your brain had entirely shut it out.

As traumatized as you were, Hannibal was aware you had not fully coped up with this painful incident. You walked around and pretended like you were fine but he knew he needed to break you, in order to put you back together.

This time, to his own likeness.

“He has not killed anyone after I got away from him. I think he is going to come back for me.” You spoke, tone impassive whenever you spoke about your trauma. “The thought always lingers in the back of my mind, Doctor Lecter.”

The aforementioned tossed one leg over the other and nodded his head, acknowledging your restlessness. “You survived him with your strong will to live. If he is to resurface again, I'm sure you will be able to defend yourself against him.”

Hannibal was right and you knew it. You'd escaped him with the desperate urge to live and that desperation saved your life.

But then Hannibal spoke up again with certain darkness in his voice. “You'll always have me, love. I will be there for you as I always have been.”

You smiled softly.

He was right. He was there — from the beginning to the end. He had coaxed you out of your shell, helped you express your feelings, much more. Hannibal had helped you beyond anything and you felt like you'd forever be in his debt.

Hannibal’s proclivity for protecting you and caring for you stemmed from the romantic feelings he began to develop for you over the course of the past few weeks. The moment he laid his gaze upon you, he knew you were the one.

You'd climbed over the walls around him without even intending to do so. Your little laughs, your interest in seeing the art he'd created with only a pencil, even reaching you calligraphy.

Hannibal was deeply in love and that was not a good sign.

“I appreciate you, Doctor Lecter.” You smiled, teeth showing. The session soon came to an end and you left for your apartment. Hannibal didn't like seeing you go but he had to let you go. There was so much he could do to bring you closer to him and he noticed how you were already beginning to become dependent on him.

He liked that. The taste of freedom was on your tongue but your strings were controlled by Hannibal.

As soon as you reached your apartment, you could only look forward to another session with him. You were entirely blind to how much you had grown attached to Hannibal, how much he affected you and everything in your life.

You only saw the camaraderie he offered you in a time of struggle, pain and utter loneliness.

But little did you know that was the whole plan. Hannibal had been offered a chance at friendship before too but he rejected it, all and everytime though with you, the case was different. He was a lonely man, painfully lonely and he craved company.

Your company.

So when he saw you, he made it his mission to make you depend on him. Grow used to him, attached and fully bonded like you were his mate.

You turned on the TV, hoping you'd be able to relax but your phone dinged. You reached for it, picking it up and unlocking. Eyebrows scrunching up when you saw the link you'd received from an anonymous number.

You contemplated whether to check it or not and your curiosity finally got the best of you when you tapped on it. It took you to an article — by Freddie Lounds.

Your blood ran cold when you read the contents of it. Fingers losing their strength and your phone slipping out of their grasp, hitting the couch. You blinked profusely, hoping that this was a lie but you were all aware that no matter how problematic Freddie Lounds was, she delivered real events and not some made up ones.

The article included of your killer — finally risen again, taking another victim. Your breathing grew uneven, all the memories your brain had locked out now freeing themselves.

Shattered breathing and a thumping heart reminded you of your suppressed fears when the anesthesia of your mind had wore off.

Body beginning to oscillate on the couch, your teeth ripped the skin off your lips, causing them to bleed. Panic had filled you up.

You were next. You knew it.

In this vulnerable moment, you knew only one person that was capable of calming you down and that was Hannibal Lecter. You didn't think for a moment, grabbing your car keys and heading for the door.

Seeing the weather only increased the fear and uneasiness which you attempted to repel inside you. Grey clouds loomed above your head when you made it outside your apartment building and the rain only felt like droplets of acid pouring over your skin.

Tears losing their identity within the cries of mother nature, engulfing your whole being.

How sad, how pitful that what worked to calm down others was burning you.

You tried to scream but nothing came out.

All your suppressed emotions had swam up to the surface and there was no escape.

You don't remember how you managed to drive through the heavy rain, soaked with a blurred vision. It was a blessing — rather a curse from God to have protected you from an inevitable car crash.

All you remember was ending up outside Hannibal’s house — fist banging over the wood. When the door was pulled open, Hannibal found you soaked and withered like a flower in front of him. Drenched hair sticking to the ridges of your face, dress clinging to your frame, shoulders showing off a perpetual tremor, cheeks flushed and through all that Hannibal managed to pick up on the tears that slid.

He was quick to pull you inside, without a word exchanged between the two of you. His palm opened, laying on your back. You had no idea why you were here but being in Hannibal’s presence sufficiently managed to make you feel a tad bit better.

You looked up at him, mumbling incoherent words and the man didn't hesitate for a moment to bring you in a hug. His own button up and vest becoming wet in the process.

All that mattered to him was comforting you.

You buried your face in his chest, sobbing and finally breaking apart. The way he exactly needed you to. His heart ached feeling your little body shiver in his hold but this was necessary.

He had to do this. Had to trigger you somehow so he could find you in a vulnerable headspace and coerce full codependency out of you.

The killer only helped fasten the process and Hannibal knew Freddie Lounds was an unethical journalist who only cared for content. Working in the FBI wasn't that bad when Hannibal had access to the murder files and photographs. All he had to do was anonymously send to Lounds and then send the article to you.

A smile decorated his features when you crumbled in his embrace.

“He-He'll come—come back for me. He—”

You were a mess. A mix of overwhelming emotions and beautiful flesh. Hannibal shushed you, caressing your head with his palm as you unleashed weeks worth of suppressed trauma and anguish.

“I'm here.” He said softly, tightening his hold over you in a protective manner. “You have me, only me. You don't need anyone else.”

You nodded in agreement, both palms pressed over his broad chest. Your body had grown cold and Hannibal was beginning to worry.

He pulled apart from you, or attempted to but you clung to him like a koala. Fists bunching up the material of his button up, body aching to feel his warmth. Becoming greedy but Hannibal was going to give you all the warmth you so desperately craved.

“You will fall sick, love. Let me bring you some clothes.”

Your hands loosened their grip over his shirt and he peeled from me. Biceps soaked from how tightly they were draped around you, skin underneath them revealed. After sitting you down on the couch, Hannibal went to find you some clothes.

He could not put the paramount happiness he felt into words. Everything, from beginning to end had worked in his favor. He was in control and he enjoyed it more than anything. All he had to do was use your trauma against you, push you into a state of vulnerability where you only needed him.

He brought you his own clothes, a shirt that would be too big on you. Hannibal craved to see how you'd look, he was fucking excited.

You were still shivering, chest leaping up from little hiccups. Hannibal walked over to you with the shirt and a glass of water he'd fetched from the kitchen on his way to the living room.

“Here, drink this. You'll feel better.” You reached for the glass with shaky fingers and Hannibal noticed them. In one single go, you finished the glass. He took it from you and placed it on the nearest table before handing you over his shirt.

“Please change into this. You'll fall sick and we don't want that happening, do we?”

You had no energy to change. It required all your will power to drive here and now you were too far gone to even function like a proper human. Hands numb and frozen.

You raised your gaze at him, glossy and red eyes becoming the cause of his heavy beating heart.

Hannibal swallowed.

He did not know you would grow this beautiful, this breathtaking after breaking apart. In your destruction, you were the most beautiful. Blooming like a new flower. Like a piece of art, you filled his heart with bliss.

“I can provide help.” He tested the waters and all you did was turn around on the couch, moving to the side to reveal the zipper of your dress to him.

Hannibal sat next to you, brawny hands reaching for the zipper. You closed your eyes as tears fell, a few sobs escaping. Hannibal’s fingers slowly dragged the zipper down and you leaned more into his touch when his fingers accidentally brushed over your wet skin. You swallowed — body growing used to the man's minor touch.

He exposed your back when the zipper met the end, glistening bare skin greeting him. He could tell from the way you shifted in your seat or how the goosebumps poked through your skin that you were relishing in this.

Hannibal’s knuckles caressed your skin, your breath hitched.

Hannibal carefully and tenderly pushed the sticky dress off your shoulders, exposing your beautiful shoulders. Bare and raw to his lascivious gaze. He was so obsessed, so infatuated. Fingers dancing across where your shoulder blades sat, tongue swiping over his own lips.

He was a starving madman.

Only the sound of fire crackling over the wood in the fireplace could be heard in the room, along with your bated breathing and sharp intakes of air. Hannibal’s adam apple bobbed up and down as he fully pulled the dress down.

The heavy soaked material of cotton bunched up at your waist. Your bare chest rose up and fell down in uneven breaths, nipples hardening because of the chilly air.

You were ready to stand up to discard the dress but Hannibal’s hands circled around your arms, pulling you back against his chest. Your eyes fluttered shut as he breathed over your nape.

His warm breath leaving chills in its wake and you shuddered in his grasp. The self control Hannibal possessed was worthy of immense respect and appreciation because only he knew how badly he wanted to let go and claim you.

But he had to wait.

He waited for so long, what's more a few hours or days.

He found himself growing obsessed with your mere scent. How sweet you smelled, how hypnotic it was. Worked like magic over him.

“Arms.” Hannibal sounded commanding and you raised your arms, slipping them into the large sleeves of the emerald shirt. Hannibal didn't bother to unbutton it as it was oversized and you slipped right into it.

He soon pulled the dress down to your legs and discarded it somewhere.

He brushed your hair with his beautifully sculpted fingers, mind overthrown by the images of your bare back and gorgeous shoulders.

You slowly turned to face him, face flushed and tears coating the apple of your cheeks.

“Thank you.“ You whispered, stifling the urge to sob. You were still all over the place, hoping that all of this was a dream and you'd wake up soon between your thick blanket.

Hannibal nodded. “I told you, I will always be here. You're safe with me, love. I can protect you from this man, keep you safe but you need to stay close to me in order for me to protect you.”

You thought about it and he was right.

If you'd gone to someone else after reading that article, they would have never opened their door to you. Never would have allowed you in but Hannibal, like your guardian angel, was right there.

Your gaze fell to capture his lips for a moment before flickering back up to his sparkling eyes.

“It is your decision, at the end.” Of course it was.

But your words were driven by Hannibal’s manipulation and gaslighting. Using his wit and psychology to push you over the cliff, only to be waiting down there to catch you.

Your words were yours but your lips were controlled by Hannibal.

You shuffled closer to him, knees coming in contact with his. With hesitation, you threw your arms around him and veiled your face with his nape. Hannibal circled his arms around your frail waist, a smug smile crossing his lips.

A smug smile of victory.

When you broke the hug, Hannibal cupped your face and leaned in to press a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. You didn't complain, knowing that this was unethical but you didn't care. You craved this, a doomed touch starved creature you were.

Hannibal’s blonde strands fell over his face and you reached for them, caressing them between your fingers. He took in a deep breath, fingers nearly digging into your waist from the sheen of desire on his mind.

“You're like spring, my love. Bloom like the flowers.” Hannibal whispered, finally leaning in to press his lips over yours. You allowed him to, your own hands slithering over his nape, fingers tangling in his roots.

Hannibal pressed his body against yours in desperate attempts to feel you as he pushed him down on the couch. His lips devoured you, the kiss full of seeting passion. You felt his tongue coat your lips with saliva and you parted open your mouth, a lustful invitation.

His tongue mingled with yours, breath and spit becoming one. You whimpered into thw kiss as Hannibal’s hands moved up from your waist to unbutton the shirt he'd put you in. Only enough to expose your breasts to him. Hannibal loved how the silk shirt clung to your body, how it complimented your soft skin.

You arched your back when his hands fondled with your breasts, thumbs squeezing your hardened peaks between them. Hannibal had lost all his restraint. He could not stop kissing you, forbidding you the pleasures of breathing.

You tried to pull away but that was a mistake as he began to kiss you with more vigor. Locking your lips together, fucking your mouth with his wet tongue. His saliva had coated your lips as well as your chin, in tiny invisible rivulets

“H-Hannibal, wait.” You whispered and he finally tore himself away from you, breaking the kiss.

When your eyes got used to his vision, your cunt throbbed at how handsomely disheveled he appeared. Hair a mess from all the entanglement of your fingers, lips glossy with your saliva and eyes darkened. His blown out pupils were a full proof of his overbearing need for you.

His face moved to hide in your neck, lips peppering soft wet kisses over it. You winced when you felt him bite into you, a whine leaving you. Hannibal's one hand slithered down to the lace panties you wore, fingers grazing over the hem of them. You inhaled a sharp breath — feeling him slip his hand inside your underwear.

His fingers gathered your arousal before pressing over your clit, rubbing it in soft circles. Your back arched off the couch as your breathy moans grew louder. One hand toying with your cunt while the other twisted and tugged at your nipple, you were in complete bliss.

Hannibal’s fingers dropped lower and he slid one inside your cunt. Your walls clenched around him, a whine escaping you. If you'd been told you would end up with your psychiatrist’s fingers buried inside your cunt, you would probably think of it as a fever dream but here you were.

Hips writhing underneath him. Hannibal stared at you, licking his hungrily. You looked so breathtaking, panting like you'd run a marathon. Cheeks blossoming with a sweet pink hue.

Hannibal pulled out his fingers, losing his grip on patience. He could unfold the layers of your body some other day, right now he needed you and he was going to take was his.

He rid himself of his clothes, discarding the pieces by the couch. You were in awe of what he had to offer especially when your gaze lowered to between his legs. A cock rock hard — standing proudly, deliciously curved. You subconsciously licked your lips and fluttered your eyes back at him.

Hannibal parted open your legs, sliding between them. Holding his cock, he guided it into you and your hands flew to grip his bare biceps, nails piercing.

As you felt him enter you, stretching you past your limits, you flinched. It didn't hurt nor did it bring you unbearable pain but you still needed time to get used to Hannibal’s size.

Hannibal cupped your face, large hands bringing you warmth.

“My beautiful Love. You will feel better soon as all I wish to do is bring you pleasure.” You nodded your head at his sugary words, releasing your grip around his biceps and moving your arms around his neck.

You pulled him closer, an action which gave him the order to fuck you and he did. Hannibal lifted your legs, placing each on each side of his hips before fully driving himself into your soaked cunt.

A whimper emitted from your throat when you felt him fully sink into you. Your gummy walls gripping around him like the tail of a snake around its prey — feeling every protruding vein.

Hannibal started to move, back and forth but slowly to make you feel each and every thrust. A whine of need and desperation echoed in the room, silencing the crackling of the fire.

“Tell me what you need, my love. Tell me what is it that you ache for?”

Your vision blurred. “You.”

That was all Hannibal needed to drill his cock into your tight pussy. Like some animal who'd finally caught its prey and with the intention to tear it apart limb by limb consumed it. Your body jerked forward from each harsh thrust, his balls slapping against the stripe of your cunt.

“Hannibal! Hann—ohmy.” Your moans grew, so did his pace. He fucked you with strong will and determination to draw a rippling orgasm out of you.

Hannibal’s hand wrapped around your throat in a purely possessive manner. To claim that you were his. He bruised your throat but not with the purpose to hurt you, rather taint you as his. Brand you forever.

A fucking collar embedded in your blood streams.

Both your hands held onto his wrist as he bruised your skin, all the while mounting you and chasing his own orgasm. Everytime he hit that spot of yours, tears fell and collapsed against the couch. His cock head driving itself ferociously into your cervix.

Hannibal felt his stomach taut, so did you.

Your thighs shivered, hips stuttering underneath his and Hannibal caught that. How could he not? He captured every little action of yours, every response your body gave to his. He was in love and his love was not the good kind.

“I feel it, Hannibal I-I feel it.” You cried out and he nodded, panting and groaning. All the sounds he made only worked to increase your sex drive — you craved him more, despite him being inside you. Your cunt clenched around him, gripping him and Hannibal nearly whined at how fucking good you felt.

Both of you were close and with one harsh thrust, Hannibal spilled his load inside you while you released all over him. His seed had tainted your walls. He didn't stop there.

He continued to thrust inside you, slow and sensual rolling of his hips inside your cunt.

Your eyes had fallen shut, disappearing into your skull. Seeing the same white Hannibal had painted your walls with.

“You're the prettiest, my pretty girl.” Hannibal whispered against your forehead, pressing a soft kiss to it. He soon pulled out and collapsed right next to you as you shuffled to give him space.

Laying on his chest, you were the happiest. Naked bodies entangled together for eternity and you had no idea just what you'd gotten yourself into. Raising your eyes at Hannibal’s face, you already found him looking at you with a smile.

His fingers trailed along your hair as he held you rightly in his arms. You released a sigh of content. “Hannibal, I-I think I'm in love with you.”

You sounded sure that you had fallen in love with your psychiatrist and as unprofessional as it was, you hoped that he too reciprocated these unbridled emotions. You had no idea just how happy you'd made him by uttering out those words.

He kissed the top of your head. “I have always been in love with you, my girl. You have no idea how much I tried to control these feelings I harbor for you.”

You shook your head. “You don't have to control them anymore, Hannibal.”

He didn't have to, not anymore. He had you right where he wanted you and everything had fallen right into place. Pushing you towards the edge was worth it — when the result was you, in his arms, it was all worth it.

[vampiresbloodx]

your lips on mine.

summary: the queen has asked for you.

parings: rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader

word count: 1k.

Trigger warnings: fluff, sexual tension, a lot of tension, gay tension, kissing, soft rhaenyra, slight angst if you squint.

Living on Dragonstone has been rather interesting. Well, not much exciting happens everyday, you do miss king's landing, mostly because it was your home for the longest time, it held so many memories, but anywhere the queen went, you happily followed like an obedient dog. 

She doesn’t even need a leash for you. One look and you're all hers. And she knows that. 

As of late, you couldn’t help but notice there's been a distance between you and your queen. You know she’s busy running things, there’s a war coming, and happening at the same time. It seems it’ll never end. 

You were the queen's guard, with many dirty secrets that could definitely get you killed. 

But you wouldn’t mind that. Since your first time was with her, rhaenyra targaryen, the woman you love, who you’d die for, nothing beats that. 

Maybe her best friend might be in the mix. 

You’ll do anything for your queen. 

Tonight you would have been doing your usual duties as the queens guard, and yet you find yourself in your room, waiting for an order. rhaenyra herself commanded you to stay in your room for the night, you were confused, slightly hurt, wondering what you did wrong, nothing came to mind. You would know if you had hurt her, said something bad, it would have haunted you. 

You were always supposed to remain by her side. 

Now you find yourself alone. 

You didn’t like it. 

There was a knock at your door, startling you away from your thoughts as you got up, you walked towards the door and opened it. 

One of the queen's handmaidens was there. 

“The queen has asked for you in her bed chambers.” 

Oh, has she now? 

You wanted to smile, but you needed to look professional in front of everyone, so they don’t suspect anything. 

Though you weren’t going to be surprised if there were whispers around the place. Someone was always talking, they should be glad the queen or you haven’t found them. 

The queen doesn’t tolerate that. 

You headed your way through the halls to where the queens rested, wondering why she’s called now, not before, you weren’t complaining, by the gods did you miss her. 

Making it to her door, breathing softly, trying to keep it together, as you closed your eyes, bringing your fist up to knock. 

“Come in” you hear her sweet honey-eyed voice call out to you, she sounded beautiful like an angel, she was a goddess, fallen to this earth wearing the title queen as she rightfully should. 

You went inside her chambers, it was warm, a fire was lit, there was a nice scent that flowed in her room, welcoming you, lavender and vanilla, you’ve been in many presence of royal, princesses, prince, whomever it may be, but none smelled quiet like rhaenyra. 

And there she was, never failing to make you breathless, rhaenyra stood from her seat, there was a slight frown in her brow, causing concern to wash over you. You always worried for your queen, tonight there was something different in the air. 

“My queen?” you spoke, your voice soft, not the usual strictness you were tired of showing to everyone else for formalities as a knight. 

At least you got to breathe a little around her. 

She hadn’t replied yet, you noticed she was fidgeting with her fingers together, a thing she does when she’s bothered by something, she was stuck in deep thought, you could see it on her face. 

You stepped closer, the sound of the fire crackling breaking through the silence. 

Your hand reached out, touching her face, she didn’t back away, you caressed her cheek. 

“My love, what haunts you?” you asked, “we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but if you do wish to, I’ll be here to listen. Always.” 

She smiled, staring up at you. 

“I’ve realised i've been disregarding you” she said, you couldn’t help but frown, did she notice how upset you’ve been not always being with her?. 

“It's fine, my queen” you chuckled nervously, your cheeks heating up. “You’re very busy and needed, there's a lot happening, I’m not as important-” 

She placed a finger on your lips to stop you from rambling anymore. 

“Don’t you ever talk to yourself like that, ever. You are important, especially to me” she spoke with such fire, you could feel your eyes welling up with tears, but you didn’t cry. 

“Thank you, my queen.” 

“Why are you thanking me?” she asked with an amused smile. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” you say, smiling back at her. 

Then she laughed, it made your heart flutter, it’s been a while since you heard her laugh, god, it was a wonderful sound, no music could ever sound as mesmerising as her. 

“It's good to hear you laugh again, my queen.” 

She blushes red, like she’s been caught. 

“You never fail to cheer me up, my darling.” 

It was like your heart came to a stop. It's been a while since she’s called you that, now you were a flustered mess, when were you not around her?. You found yourself staring at the floor, you looked up, feeling her fingers holding your chin, to make you look in her eyes, your breath hitched, you felt like you were on fire, maybe it was just the fireplace that happened to be on, no, it was just her. 

She leaned in, you were never the one to pull away from her, always leaning into her, wanting to feel her all over you, her hand was placed on your neck, the other hand caressing your face. Her lips met yours, you kissed back, hungry for more, your heart felt like it was going to rip out of your chest, you wouldn’t mind dying right now. 

For now though, you just wanted to enjoy the taste of her lips on yours. 

[demonpiratehuntress]

gentleman

Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader

summary - after the events of Alabasta, everyone is unwinding in the different gendered baths. while the other men are quick to look over the wall, your boyfriend is much more respectful. until he gets to be alone with you in that bath, that is...

warnings - none, maybe slightly suggestive at the end but mostly fluff, may be errors since I'm writing this with a sprained wrist and my hand is not moving like it should

a/n: just a short fluffy drabble since i'm stunned that i have way too many angsty Zoro fics. also, this gif-

You barely turned around when you heard Nami yelling at the boys for trying to peek at her, Vivi and you. You just turned your head slightly, an amused smile on your lips as your body relaxed into the warm water, soothing your sore and aching muscles.

"Honestly! Zoro is the only one with any decency!"

You laughed at that, and then again when you heard groaning coming from the other side of the wall. It seemed they had all gotten a shock from her outburst and fell, which was well-deserved. Nami settled back into the bath with you and Vivi, grumbling about how annoying they were and threatening to hit all of them when you got back to the Going Merry. You and Vivi giggled, before resuming your conversation.

Much later, you were still soaking yourself in the water even though Nami and Vivi had long since left to go change. You wanted to stay a bit longer, enjoying the quiet. But seconds later, you suddenly felt arms around your waist, pulling you to a strong, hard chest. You smiled, not bothering to open your eyes.

"You were waiting for this, hmm?"

"Baths are always better with you," the swordsman mumbled into your neck, his touch sending pleasurable tingles down your spine.

"Nice to know you didn't look at the other girls while they were bathing," you teased him. "What a gentleman."

A soft kiss landed on your bare shoulder, "I'm not like that pervy cook. Or the rest of those perverts. Besides, I have no interest in seeing anyone but you naked."

His words made you shiver, and a blush crept onto your cheeks, "That-I-" You didn't know what to say, flustered beyond words.

He chuckled, gently grabbing your chin to turn your head so you could look at him, "My eyes are only ever on you." He enjoyed seeing you like this, he enjoyed watching you blush and stutter at his words, knowing only he could do this to you. "But I'm surprised Chopper tried to look."

"Sanji probably encouraged him," you giggled, leaning back against your boyfriend. He was right, the bath was so much better with him in it. His arms tightened around your waist again, and you hummed in satisfaction.

"I'm going to kill that stupid cook for looking at you like this," Zoro grumbled, annoyed that they had the nerve to try and see you bare - something only reserved for him.

You laughed and kissed his cheek, "I won't stop you. That was annoying."

He grinned devilishly, "Permission to hurt him? You must be in a good mood today."

"Well..." You shifted so you were now straddling him in the water, arms around his neck as you leaned in close. "I do feel very relaxed, but my mood is much improved thanks to you."

He smiled, and moved forward to connect your lips. Unlike your usual rushed, brief pecks during the heat of a battle or before one, this kiss was deep, slow, and long. He took his time to kiss you, hands gently massaging your waist, before he brought one of them up to rest on your cheek. This was a side of him rarely seen, because of the constant danger that you were always in, so you enjoyed these few and far between moments. He kissed you reverently, like this affectionate gesture was an act of worship, and to him it was. Because to him, you were a goddess. One that he would happily spend the rest of his life devoting his time and attention to.

"I love you."

His whispered confession caused butterflies to bloom in your gut, and a shy but loving smile to grace your lips. You trailed gentle and featherlight kisses along his shoulder, letting him relax and tilt his head back with closed eyes.

"I love you too."

Moments like these allowed Zoro to be truly vulnerable, something you both appreciated. You were happy that he felt safe enough with you to be vulnerable, to expose his deepest feelings and to just be him. Because he was always acting as the crew's valiant protector, a feat that honoured him but also left no space for him to care for himself. Until you came along.

"You're so beautiful."

You hadn't realised he'd opened his eyes again until you looked up from his shoulder and saw him staring at you. Love, admiration and awe filled his eyes, and a deep blush settled on your cheeks.

"I could say the same to you."

He hummed, but dismissed your comment, "I mean it. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Sometimes I think I'm dreaming." His hand returned to your cheek, this time to gently caress it.

You smiled, and leaned in to kiss him again, "Does this feel like a dream?"

He smiled against your lips, "No. Which only means I died and went to heaven."

You laughed, "I thought you didn't believe in that."

"Meeting you changed my mind."

Your heart thundered in your chest, your brain malfunctioning at such sweet words. You were left speechless, and he noticed, making him smirk cockily.

"Now who's making who speechless?"

"Still me making you speechless," you smiled mischievously, trailing your hands up his thick thighs. His breath hitched, and he let out a strangled half-gasp, half-moan when you reached exactly where he wanted you.

"Fuck."

"That's what I intend to do to you."

[divinesolas]

Thinking about when Jace got teased by asking if he knew where he had to put his cock in… a fic about it would kill me

a.n: im sure this has been done a million times before but this is my take on it :3 this is prob not as smutty as you probably hoped but i hope you like it <333 only warnings are reader is a northern (no specific house) and oral (fem)

“You do know how the act is done i assume. At least in principle.” You see the way jace tenses next to you and aegon shoots you a pleased look. your face falls, this was not going to be good.

“Where to put your cock and all that.” You place a hand on jaces shoulder but he does not acknowledge you as you can tell he is growing angrier by the second. “Ignore him jace, he’s not worth it-”

“You can play the jester if you wish. but hold your tongue before my bethrothed.” Aegon says not more but you remove your hand from his shoulder as jace gulps down the remainder of his wine. You can tell he’s pissed. His jaw is clenched and his leg bounces up and down, eyes set at the wall.

You hate how hot he looks, how his stare has your thighs clenching together. You have only been betrothed for a few months now. You had taken a trip down to dragonstone to meet him when the trial suddenly was called and you agreed to join him and the rest of his family.

When you place a hand on his thigh his leg stops moving and his head turns towards you, eyes wide. You squeeze his thigh lightly as you lean closer to him, your words hushed. “Do not let him bother you jace.” The look in his eye is dark as they roam around your face and land on your lips. You hold your breath and your hand slips off his thigh as you turn away from him. There was no way he was going to kiss you but you can’t help but feel embarrassed still.

Your attention is quickly taken away by baela who asks you numerous questions about the north and you happily answer all her questions, assuring her you would be more than happy to show her around should she be interested in going there.

The night goes sour and you rush after jace who quickly storms out of the room after being dismissed. You call his name as you sprint down the hall but he does not turn to look at you or stop his movement until you are right next to him, in front of his room.

“Jace-”

Before you even realize it your on the bed with his head under your dress. His tongue lapping at your walls with his hands pressing against your knees to keep them apart. One of your hands covers you mouth while the other grips tightly at the hair on his head, with every pull he lets out a groan that sends shivers up and down your back.

You do not know how you even ended up here. He was just so angry about the whole dinner that he needed something to relieve his stress and he has vowed that has much as he wishes too he will not bed you before your wedding. But this was not him bedding you, he has not stuck his cock where his tongue is plunging in and out it did not count in his eyes.

He always has hated that you had to cover your mouth, always wishing he could just hear you fully but he only has one more moon cycle before he can fully, till then he can settle for the muffled sounds of your delight.

Aegon knew nothing of your relationship he had no clue why he let it bother him so much. He had no clue that jace had you crying his name on his lips more times than he can ever count, hes sure aegon has never even had a women release before but jace sure has and you were living proof.

perm jace taglist <3

@earth4angels @tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons @ravenn-darkholme

[redflagshipwriter]

Red Hot Ghouls chapter 11 2/2

Masterpost

He leaned back a little.

There was a very strange silence. Jack’s face initially turned to fury, then a shocked contemplation. Jason waited it out and wondered if he was going to get in trouble for shooting a civilian in genuine self defense.

“Son.” Jack’s voice was grave. “You’re not Jeremy Waters, are you?”

It took a moment to parse through the immediate offense that this guy had busted his cover and to actually register the full name.

Oh, fuck. That Jeremy? The cult guy? Jason made a face involuntarily. “I am not,” he admitted. Oof. Fuck. Here it goes. “I lied because I wanted to be sure you would meet with me.”

“...Honey!” Jack shouted. He shot up in an alarmingly fast motion for such a big man. “Uh, change of plans! Why don’t you get what we all drink on movie nights?”

Something broke in the other room. “Oh, dear,” said Dr. Fenton. “Just a moment.” A vacuum started up. What the actual fuck was going on in there?

“You thought I was that creep?” Jason said blankly. “What were you going to do?” What sounded like a high pressure hose started up in the other room. He had to deliberately decide not to hunch his shoulders defensively. Jesus fucking christ. They were definitely mad scientists.

Jack Fenton looked shifty. “...Talk,” he tried.

Jason looked at the older man. He didn’t say anything. Jack gradually began to look sheepish but he didn’t break.

“Don't worry about it, honey,” Madeleine Fenton said. She set down three alarmingly green glasses and gave him a close-lipped smile.

Jason was very much going to worry about it. He looked between the two of them.

“Melon soda!” Jack Fenton cheered, obviously overreacting to get out of the conversation. He put both his hands up in the air and then grabbed at his glass. “Yummy! So good for growing young men, drink up.” He laughed awkwardly and then buried his face in his own drink.

Meanwhile, Dr. Madeline Fenton looked at him with catlike consideration. She clearly wanted to see him drink the soda.

He was pretty sure they'd been planning to get rid of Jeremy Waters, permanently. Mixed feelings on that, since Waters clearly sucked. He’d human trafficked Jason to the afterlife, after all. On the other hand, you can’t assume someone is chill when you know they want to kill someone. “No thank you,” he said to the melon soda, stomach a little queasy. Even if Jack was drinking it. And the glasses were identical.

“That’s fair,” Dr. Fenton said and sank into the couch cushion next to her husband. “So, you were interested in learning about the Ghost Zone and the afterlife?” She exchanged a meaningful look with her husband. “Any… particular reason?”

These people were intense when they goggled at a guy.

“Nothing I’m ready to talk about yet,” he evaded. It had the advantage of being true. He didn’t know how Jack made him yet.

They proceeded to have a somewhat tense conversation where the Fentons happily elaborated on all their current research and repeated, “I’m sorry, but we’ve withdrawn that work and won’t discuss it,” whenever he mentioned a publication from before 5 years ago. They’d even gone and gotten a lot of their stuff redacted. They talked and talked until Jason’s throat was hoarse. The Drs. Fenton were a brick wall on those topics that he couldn’t bust or wheedle past.

‘What does a person who posts about ghosts on their family blog think to redact?’ Jason wondered.

Eventually, Jack held up both hands. “It’s bothering me that you won’t drink anything,” he admitted. “Let’s go the Nasty!”

“Good idea, honey,” Dr. Fenton agreed. She stood and swung keys around her finger. “I’ll drive!”

Jack Fenton let out a dramatic “Awww, honey bunches,” and followed her around wheedling for a chance to get behind the wheel.

“No, we don’t want to scare our guest.” Dr. Fenton was immovable. A bit ominous as well.

Jason thought about pointing out that he hadn’t agreed to come with them, but he stood up anyways. It wasn’t like he could just sit on their couch and watch them leave their own house.

He had his first inkling of how badly he’d initially fucked up on that phone call when they got outside. Jack pulled the canvas off the family van with a flourish to reveal an absolutely horrific mural of Danny the ghost king giving gifts to humanity. There was text explaining his generosity, scrolling across the bottom of the van.

Jason stood stock still in horror.

The van gave off the same general impression as psychedelic howling wolf print art.

Jason put a hand over his mouth and tried to process it.

Danny’s white hair floated nobly across a few more feet than Jason was pretty sure it should. He was also kinda built in this painting compared to reality and he looked more… kingly. Not that Danny wasn’t in shape, but he was built more like Dr. Fenton than Jack Fenton, if that made sense.

Wait. Why’d he made that comparison? That should have been a frame of reference for Danny Fenton, not Danny the ghost king. …Was the ghost king basing his form off the Fenton’s kid?

“Come on, son!” Jack slapped him on the back. The force was enough to jar Jason forward and out of his dissociative state.

He moved numbly. ‘Alright, they like Danny king,’ Jason managed to think through the wound to his artistic soul. ‘I can be honest with them about the problem. They’ll want to help him get a spiritual separation from some sketchy guy who lied to them.’

They took him to a mid-tier burger restaurant with weird pretensions. The burge had both garlic aioli and shitty neon nacho cheese sauce on it. Jason picked at it for a while, disturbed and pleased by the unexpected combination.

They got back into their discussion. The next time a Fenton asked him a question, he cleared his throat and put down what was left of his burger. “I asked about Phantom because I’m in a little bit of trouble with him.”

It was weird to call him Phantom when he’d introduced himself as Danny. On the other hand, the Fentons also had a kid named Danny, so it was probably for the best.

Jack’s smile faltered. “What kind of trouble, sport?”

Jason shifted in his chair. “I uh. I may have gotten in Waters’ way. I didn’t know who he was,” he admitted. “Next thing I knew, I was in this green place?” He made a confused hand gesture. “Few minutes later, Phantom shows up, kinda pissy, asked if I did it on purpose, and then says that Waters basically.” He stopped to clear his throat. “Spiritually married us to each other.” His voice got a bit smaller than he meant it to.

That meant there was no audio competition for the loud crack when Madeline Fenton broke the table.

“Jesus fuck,” Jason said, looking at her with wide eyes. “Is your hand-”

She put her elbows on top of the tabletop that still existed and cupped her chin on her palms. “Tell me more.”

“You’re a handsome boy, aren’t you,” said Jack consideringly. “Maddie, honeybunches, d’you know, I was thinking about tracking down the Wishiewish ghostie again today. D’you think-”

“Oh, he should absolutely come with you,” Dr. Fenton agreed. She was beaming. It… did not feel villainous.

‘Why did telling them that make her less scary all of a sudden?’

“What do you like about Phantom? Do you think he’s cute? Was he nice to you?”

Maybe she was just a romantic.

[mostlymihawk]

Getting Sick!

Straw Hat Crew (+ Shanks + Mihawk) x GN reader

Prompt: How they react to you getting sick.

CW: Emetophobia (throwing up)

Luffy:

Completely useless.

The man's made of rubber, he doesn't have a clue what to do.

"Um...it's gonna be okay? It's gonna be okay, right?"

You have to ask him for everything.

Does carry you to bed when asked, and will happily snuggle you.

Then asks if you want something to eat.

Food is the solution, and refuses to understand that food can also be the problem.

Nami:

Holds your hair and runs her fingers through it at the same time.

Also dabbing your face and neck with a cold cloth.

Certified professional make-it-better-er.

She did a lot of throwing up when she was younger.

Childhood trauma combined with lying to your sister and working for your mother's murderer will do that.

Knows exactly what she would have wanted, and gives it all to you.

"It's gonna be okay. I've got you, sweetheart."

Keeps tabs on your temperature to make sure this isn't a symptom of something bigger.

Refuses to let you out of bed until you're 100% better.

Zoro:

Keeps his face carefully blank and gently rubs your back.

Looking away the whole time.

You know him well enough to know he does not want to be doing this.

Handles blood just fine but this is a whole other ballgame and he wants no part of it.

Happily helps you to bed after, because it means the gross part is over.

"Better out than in...I guess."

Then he remembers someone has to take care of the cleanup.

Tries to frame it as discipline training to make it better.

Usopp:

Useless, but tries his best.

"Do you need a cloth? Some water? I can get, uh...fresh pair of clothes?"

Standing outside the door, so you croak out what you need and he runs to get it for you.

Needs to be filling the silence.

If he's not asking you something and you're not answering he's talking about how this reminds him of that one time in the Forest of Doom...

Spends the whole night telling stories to help you get to sleep.

Gets a lot better when he realizes this isn't all that much different than barnacles and bird poop.

Unfortunately, the worst of it has already passed by then.

Confidently assures you he'll be ready for next time, though.

Sanji:

As a gentleman, it's his duty to take care of his significant other when they're sick.

He's damn good at it too.

That doesn't mean he has to like it.

His face is pinched as his thumb gently rubs your back, he dabs your face and neck, and offers you sips of water when you can manage it.

"You're alright, sweetheart. A little bit of my tender love and care and you'll be on your feet in no time."

And then he notices the colour, not unlike the blueberry reduction from the dessert you'd asked for after lunch.

Gently helps you to your room, and it's not until the next day that you notice anything is amiss.

In. con. solable.

No one has ever gotten sick from his food before. Ever.

Refuses to serve food.

The Straw Hats have to turn back to Baratie so Zeff can literally beat some sense into him.

Shanks:

Bonus!

This crew loves its alcohol way too much for Shanks to be even the slightest bit bothered by a little vomit.

Sits by your side, dabbing your face, rubbing your back, completely unfazed, cracking jokes the entire time.

"Snuck into the hold and had yourself a little party without me, did you?"

Knows exactly what to do to help you feel better.

Again, the crew loves alcohol too much for anything else to be true.

Cuddles. So many cuddles.

This crew is too experienced to let a sick crew member come back to work early, so despite the unserious approach you're on strict bedrest.

The whole crew makes fun of you...but only once you've recovered.

Mihawk:

This is not a man who routinely deals with people being sick.

Confused.

Why are you sick.

Who caused this.

Who does he need to kill.

(It's whoever cooked your dinner at that restaurant you went to last night, but you don't tell him that.)

Completely repulsed, does not let it show on his face while he tends to you.

Rubs your back very gently, and uses a cool cloth to wipe the sweat off your face.

Helps you to bed, sits up and lets you lean against his chest so you're upright, and encourages a few sips of water.

"Get some rest, my jewel."

The next day there's a doctor at your bedside.

You don't need a doctor, but the look on Mihawk's face says this is non-negotiable.

[d0youc0py]

Hiii can ypu write something with the 141 boys and their wife who starts a new job and her male coworkers are obcessed with her and dobt believe she is happily married. Please and thank you

“John?”

“Yes, Honey?” 

“Something interesting happened at work.” You said slowly. He turned in his office chair, leaning back with a heavy sigh.

“That so?” He hummed. His large hand grabbed your waist resting you on his leg. You hummed back running your fingers up and down the front buttons of his shirt. He leaned into you.

“Remember that guy at work I told you about? Harrison? Anyways, I was walking past his desk and I noticed it was empty. I asked my boss about it and she said he quit in a panic this morning.”

John nodded his head in agreement. “That is interesting.” He gave you a soft smile, running a hand up and down your back.

“John?” You asked again slowly. “What did you do?”

“My job.” He whispered leaning forward planting a quick kiss against your lips.

“Meaning…..” You trailed off swallowing hard.

“Protect you.”

“Did you kill him?” You whispered back, your eyes darting around as if someone was eavesdropping. A chuckle escaped him causing you to jump.

“No, sweetheart. I did gently urge him to fuck off though.”

“Si, can you pick me up please?”

You could hear him already getting his things over the phone.

“What happened?”

“Nothing serious. Remember that new guy I was training? Well he still hanging out in the parking lot and everyone has already left- it just doesn’t feel right.”

“Good Girl.” He praised. You could hear his truck starting. “I’ll be there in ten, just keep talking to me. How’s that book you’ve been reading?” His voice calmed you. You did as you were told, not bothering to question how he was going to make a thirty minute drive in ten minutes.

••••••••

He had made the drive in twelve minutes- the longest twelve minutes of your life.

“I’m outside, start heading down.” You breathed a sigh of relief opening the doors, the chilly night air hitting you.

“There’s my girl.” He quickly wrapped an arm around you giving you a peck on the top of the head. He opened the passenger side door of his truck, hoisting you up. He walked around to his side of the truck, leaning with his back against the door. His cold eyes staring directly into the grey car across the lot. It didn’t take long before the grey car tore out of the lot. Simon had a satisfied smirk on his face as he hopped into the truck. “I’m gonna start dropping and picking you up from now on, yeah? At least till that prick knocks it off.”

“Thanks, Si.”

“Mac! What’re you doing here?” Not that you weren’t excited to see him, he just wasn’t due home for another week.

“I missed you.” He murmured against your hairline.

“I missed you too.” You breathed, enjoying the way his cologne tickled your nose.

“I heard what you said on the phone, about our little problem.” His eyes scanned around your office building wondering who the group of bastards could be.

“Is that why you’re here? John you didn’t need to do that.” You assured, waving him off.

“Yes I do, Bon. This is your dream job and those bastards are already making you wanna quit- now point me in their direction and then we can go to lunch together, hmmm?”

“Please don’t make a scene Mac.” You whined tugging at his shirt. “How about I give you a tour and we just so happen to bump into them?”

He sighed, wanting nothing more than to give each one of them a black eye for how miserable they’ve been making you. But you and those damn puppy eyes outweigh his desire for blood.

“Alright. I might ‘accidentally’ trip one of them though.”

“How’s my pretty girl doin?” You could hear his smile on the other side of the phone.

“Best I’ve been in a week.” You smiled back. “I have a feeling I owe it to you.” You chirped, running your nails across the dinning room table.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, baby.”

“Yeah, sure. Well let me fill you in since you ‘don’t know.’ This morning I walked into work and you know those guys I was telling you about? The ones who take turns practically cornering me at my desk to ask if me and my husband are really ‘that serious’ and if I would like to go out with them for a ‘bitchin’ time’.”

“I do remember those guys, yeah.” Kyle mused from the other line. He wished he was there to see the air quotes he knew you were doing.

“Well this morning I walked in and they wouldn’t even look at me!” You cheered. “Ky, I don’t know what you did, but I owe you massively.”

“Don’t owe me a thing, pretty. Just happy you’re not scared anymore.”

[my-castles-crumbling]

portrait - October 22 - wolfstar - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 332

"Remus, can you come with me for a moment?"

He gazed down at Sirius, who, so often now, just seemed lost and downtrodden. He was a shell of his teenage self, still healing from his time in Azkaban, and now he had to deal with being back in his childhood home. It killed Remus to see him like this.

But for the first time in a long time, there was a true glimmer of mischief in his eyes, a flash of the Sirius that Remus remembered from school. "Sure," Remus murmured, heart racing and grabbing his hand, following as he was led into the front hall of Grimmauld Place.

At first, he tried to be quiet. But it was clear that Sirius was intending on getting his mother's attention, as he wrenched open the curtain over her mildewy portrait himself, sending a well-aimed silencing charm before saying happily, "Mother! I know you always dreamed of me marrying a proper pureblood girl."

Walburga Black, even in painted form, looked furious and deranged, blinking down at them with a terrifying expression.

"Well, I wanted you to meet," Sirius continued, a truly thrilled smile on his face, "my half-blood, werewolf, husband." He gestured to Remus like he was the grand prize in a game show, pure joy lighting up his sunken face.

The silencing charm instantly broke from the power of Walburga's truly anguished screams and wails, and both of them ran laughing from the room, not bothering to shut her up again. It felt like the times at Hogwarts when they'd run from professors after a silly prank, and Remus felt the urge to pull Sirius into the closest broom closest and snog him senseless, just like they used to.

"I think she took that well," Sirius laughed, pulling Remus in for a soft kiss. "Much better than sixteen-year-old me ever expected, honestly.

Chuckling, Remus just pulled him in closer and kissed him back. Perhaps they could be just like they used to be.

[luna0713hunter]

If it’s okay, can I request “passionate kissing, pressed up against a wall” and “being caught kissing” with zoro?

Author's note : i answered three asks in one cause they were kinda similar!!hope you all enjoy it darlings!

"passionate kissing,pressed up against a wall"

"being caught kissing"

"neck kissing"

"first kiss"

Based on this prompt

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Warnings : kinda suggestive,nothing major!!!just heated kissing,just you guys being in love and Zoro finally making a move,reader is said to wear a dress

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

You visibly gape as you stare up at rows after rows of breathtaking dresses. Never,not even once in your whole life,had you seen so many gorgeous clothes all in one place.

And having a chance to try them on?!

You were living your dream!!!

So as soon as Nami was satisfied with her choice and left the room,you took her place;taking dress after dress with you behind the curtains to try them on.

But there was a small,tiny bit of a problem.

"you're going with that color?"

Zoro Roronoa who apparently,had nothing better to do except watching you try each dress on. And leaving unnecessary comments.

"why?"

"it doesnt go well with your skin color."

Just like that one.

You huff and stick your tongue at him.

"you dont get to give fashion advice when you're sitting there in a bathrobe!"

Zoro merely shrugs and goes back to drinking again.

You go back to try more dresses on,each one looking more stunning on your figure.

As you emerge from behind the screen,in a dress in your favorite color and feel awfully attractive, You spin around and look at yourself happily in the mirror while trying to fix your hair with your fingers. You're so busy trying to make your dress sit better around your curves,that you fail to notice someone moving behind you until you step back and bump into someone's chest.

Someone's steady,hard and toned chest.

You raise your eyes and look at the mirror and meet Zoro's,and let out a nervous chuckle.

"uh...am i in your way?"

"no," Zoro's face is awfully close to your ear as he talks;his voice making a shiver run down your spine, "I'm actually enjoying the view."

You gape again for the second time in the past hour,as your cheeks start to color and your skin heats.

Was Zoro actually flirting with you?!

"uh-ah,thanks?"

You watch as Zoro closes to you,until his chest is pressed flushed against your back and his hands rest on your hips. He smiles to you from the mirror and you hate that he looks so god damn stunning in those suits.

"Zoro?" You whisper when he leans down and presses his lips to your shoulder, then up to your neck

"you're driving me crazy with that dress."

And you let out an embarrassing squeak when he turns you around and pushes you up against the wall next to the mirror and rests one hand on your hip, as the other fists on the wall next to your head.

"sorry?!"

"are you though?"

Your eyes travel down to his lips,and unconsciously you wet your own. Not knowing how Zoro's eyes follow your every move with hungry eyes.

"and if I'm not?"

Zoro doesnt bother with answers;always a man of action than words,as he presses his lips firmly against yours.

You have no idea where this hunger is coming from,but you're not complaining. You return his feverish kiss with your own as you chase his lips whenever he pulls away;your arms wrapping around his shoulder to pull him closer. You feel like tonight,all your dreams might come true. Since you already achieved half of them.

Your very fucking first kiss with the man you had the biggest crush on since the moment you laid your eyes on him and became his crew mate happening just when you're in the most gorgeous dress in the whole world.

Zoro doesnt let you pull away,not even for a second. And apparently he's making it his life goal to kill you young right on the spot.

The two of you are so caught in your own world that you dont hear the door to the closet opening and someone walking in. At least not until you hear a loud gasp and a louder "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?"

You jump and pull away like he's burned you (he might as well with how hot your skin feels) and try hard to not scream when you see how Nami and Usopp are grinning at you two knowingly.

"guys!we were just-"

"i dont even wanna hear it," Nami stops you with a hand, "just came down here to tell you guys dinner is ready."

"and if you want a spare room, I'll ask Kaya to give you one!"

"not helping Usopp!"

You let out a loud groan and hide your face in your hands. Zoro rolls his eyes and wraps his arms around you so you could hide your face in his chest.

"ok,you two,get lost."

"yeah sure,lover boy."

And then they left,but not before Usopp letting out an embarrassing whistle and an unmanly giggle.

"so," when Zoro breaks the silence,you raise your head to meet his eyes, "do you wanna take Ussop up on that offer?"

And when you hit his chest and laugh, with your cheeks flushed but your heart full, you pull him toward the dinning room to finally eat.

But maybe...you could talk to Kaya in private later.

[ellatoone7]

❄︎ Rare mornings ❄︎

Alexia's favourite girls series

You and Alexia wake up before the kids

It was a rarity to be woken up by the sun and not three tiny bodies that normally acted as Alexia’s alarm clock. The former athlete checked her phone wondering had she just woken up extremely early, but she hadn’t. It was nine o’clock and somehow not even one of her girls had woken up. 

You had stirred slightly next to her, burying yourself further you’re your neck as her warm hand gently strokes your swollen stomach. You were about six months at this stage, and it had been the easiest so far. You and Alexia had been through all these stages three times already, in Alexia’s words you were professionals. 

You winced as you tried to get comfortable, but you already knew it was going to be one of those days where the feeling probably wouldn’t subside. Your eyes cracked open, and you were welcome with the sight of your very smiley wife. “Buenos días hermosa.” Her voice deep and raspy as it always was when she just woke up. You bask in the blonde’s attention before having the same realisation as your wife, “Did you kill the girls?” Alexia shrugs playfully, “They were just too loud.” You giggle at her comment before wincing again. 

Alexia softly rubbed your stomach as she pulled you closer. Back when you were pregnant with Isabella, Alexia was an absolute mess. She panicked over every little thing that involved you and her daughter. This Alexia was very aware of everything that was happening without even asking, something you were eternally grateful for. “Vale mi amor. Standing up might do you some good and we can make the girls breakfast while we are ahead.” She offers softly as she slowly begins to get up not before she places a gentle kiss to your belly, a routine at this stage.

You gratefully took her hand as she helped you to sit up and then eventually stand. You rewarded her with a kiss that she happily reciprocated before quietly sneaking out of your room. Once Alexia has you safely downstairs, she runs back up to check on her daughters. Isabella’s room was closest as she peaks her head in, her room is decorated in posters of her favourite footballers. Alexia smiles softly as she finds her eldest dead to the world, with the softest of kisses to her temple she is out of the room without any disturbance.

Emilia was the heaviest sleeper out of all her siblings, Alexia often joking that she could sleep through a whole football game and not even stir. Alexia didn’t even bother creeping in knowing that Emilia wasn’t going to wake up from the noise. Emilia’s messy blonde hair was sprawled out against her pillow as she clutched on to her stuffy. Jana had gifted her the teddy when she born, and Emilia latched on to it much like Valentina and her rabbit. 

Mr biggy was named when Emilia was old enough to speak and it was decided by her and Mateo her best friend. Alexia repositioned Mr Biggy until he was tucked firmly under the blonde’s arm. Alexia pressed a kiss to her cheek before leaving to check on Val.

Contrary to her older sister Val was like Alexia and slept lightly. Alexia wasn’t surprised as the four-year-old sat up at the sound of her door being opened. “Mami?” Her little voice rasped out as Alexia stepped further into the room. Val raised her arms as her Mami came closer. Alexia sat at the edge of her bed as Val crawled into her awaiting arms. 

“Buenos días mi princesita.” Ale whispered as Val buried her face into her neck to hide from the light coming from the crack in her door. Alexia felt her mumble something against her neck as she gently pulled back. Val rubbed her eyes softly as she adjusted to being awake. Her little hands rested on Alexia’s shoulders as she looked up at her with her big hazel eyes, “M’tired.” Alexia giggled softly as a grumpy face took over her daughter. “Go back to sleep mi vida.” Val didn’t fight as her Mami guided her to lie back down.

Val’s eyes fluttered shut as she drowsily held on to her mother’s hand. Alexia tucked her in as she ducked down to press a kiss against her forehead. Satisfied that all her girls were safe she made her way downstairs, smiling as she heard you humming away. You were mixing the pancake batter as a large hand covered your own, with a kiss to your neck you knew she wanted to take over. You hauled yourself up on to the counter with surprisingly little struggle that even your wife looked impressed. 

“They’re still a sleep?” You asked as you noticed she didn’t have a little army behind her. “Sí, they had a late night.” Alexia reminded you as you stole a bit of the Nutella she pulled out. In hindsight you probably shouldn’t have let them stay up to watch one more episode, but they pulled out their puppy dog eyes, and you and Alexia were weak. “We need to be stricter.” You laugh as Alexia hums noncommittedly, “But mi amor, you know I’m weak when it comes to their puppy eyes.”

You rub her shoulder sympathetically as she moves to stand between your legs, “They got that from you.” You complain as she stares at you with the same shining eyes as the ones last night. “It’s a Putellas superpower.” You nod your head as she smiles and leans in, connecting your lips as she sighs at the lack of interruptions. As always, her hands fall to your waist and yours wrap around her neck, affectively deepening it until you here footsteps. “Good morning!” You hide your laugh in your wife’s neck at Emilia’s entrance. She slides across the floor in her socks as she joins the family hug, “Are you making pancakes?” Her blue eyes light up as she sees the batter and the Nutella. 

Alexia wrestles Emilia away from the jar as Emilia tries to feed her Nutella addiction. You watch fondly as your two blonde’s bicker playfully, “Mami, just one spoon por favor!” Alexia holds the spoon up out of reach, “I’ve been good!” She whines as she tries to climb up the former athlete’s body, “Emilia, Te daré un poco si bajas.” Emilia immediately complies as she holds her hands out expectantly. Alexia just sends her a smug smile before moving the jar of Nutella away from Emilia. The 8-year-old’s jaw dropped as she watched her mother laugh teasingly. She sends her a glare before running over to you to complain. She struggles for five minutes as she tries to get up on to the counter before Alexia takes pity and moves to help her up. Not knowing that was exactly what she wanted she quickly turned in her arms and squirmed her way onto Alexia’s back and eventually her shoulders.

Alexia was so blindsided by what just happened and before she knew it Emilia had a mouthful of chocolate and a big smile plastered on her face. “Por favor, ayúdenme.” Alexia sighs as she turns to you, “Emilia get down and give your mami back her Nutella.” Emilia didn’t care what happened to the jar now that she had gotten some and smugly returned it to her mami. You tried to hide your smile so you could reprimand your daughter, but Alexia still looked a bit dazed, and Valentina had stumbled down sometime between the wrestling.

Alexia sighed in relief as she picked up the four-year-old, “You would never eat my Nutella would you Val.” It was whispered but just like her sister, her hazel eyes lit up. Alexia’s eyes widened as the girl tried to wiggle out of her grip and reach the jar herself. Emilia had pulled herself up on the counter and tucked herself into your side. She leaned down a kissed your stomach, “Bon dia bebita.” You carded your hand through her soft hair, untangling a few knots as she mumbled against your belly. 

Emilia couldn’t wait to be an even bigger sister and was fiercely protective over her unborn sister. Eventually she looked up at you and you smiled down at her, “You remembered I existed huh?” Emilia giggled as you tickled her side, “Mama, I didn’t forget Mami distracted me.” Alexia made a sound of disgruntlement but was to busy with trying to make the pancakes and keep Val away from devouring the Nutella. 

“Poor Mami always gets the blame.” Alexia pouts as she looks over at the two of you, “Sí, I’m always being ganged up on.” You coo softly as she lets you gently stroke her jaw, “My poor baby.” Emilia laughs as she launches herself into Alexia’s arms. Alexia grunts at the impact, arms winding around the little blonde as her daughter presses kiss after kiss against her face. Emilia leans her forehead against her mami’s, “Te amo Alexia.” You laugh loudly as Ale’s face falls; Emilia had found the ultimate way to tease her Mami and often used it to her advantage. Alexia hated being called anything but Mami by her little girls, always adamant that they would never ever grow up.

“Just joking Mami, I love you.” You smiled as Emilia’s laugh rang out through your house. Alexia tickled the girl unmercifully until tears were falling down her cheeks and she buried herself into Alexia’s neck, trying to catch her breath. “What is all this noise?” A new voice joined the commotion as Isabella made her appearance. “Just your sister waking up and choosing violence.” You shrugged as your eldest slumped down on one of the chairs. 

Alexia was lecturing Emilia playfully as she threatened to tickle her again and after a solemn promise to behave Emilia was set free. “Can I get some Nutella?” Isabella asked as her eyes focused on something behind Alexia. “Touchy subject this morning Is.” Alexia crossed her arms with a huff, “No, you cannot until the pancakes are ready, vale.” Isabella scoffed before mirroring her Mami’s actions, “How come they got some, that’s so unfair.” 

Emilia sneakily wiped at her chin as you beckoned her over to clean it fully. “Emilia nearly killed me and Val…” Alexia turned to look at her unsupervised daughter and nearly shrieked as Val shovelled another handful of Nutella into her mouth. “Ay dios mio! Basta, Valentina Elisabeth Putellas, drop it.” Val just smiled up innocently at her mother as she licks at her hand. Alexia sighs tiredly as she picks up the half empty jar and places it onto the highest shelf, “Estas chicas me van a matar.”

Taking pity on your wife you gently reprimand your youngest as she licked at her lips. Alexia finally cooks the pancakes as you sort out the state your daughter is in with chocolate basically everywhere. You force Isabella to grab plates and try to settle Emilia and Valentina into their seats, so they don’t cause any trouble. Isabella decided to help her Mami plate the breakfast up, earning her a grateful kiss and a comment about ‘someone finally being on her side.’ Once all your kids were settled and eating their breakfast with Nutella you made two cups of coffee and handed one to Alexia. A strong arm wrapped around your waist as you watched your kids playfully bicker with each other. “Menaces.” Alexia mutters but anyone with eyes could see the pure adoration she harboured for her girls. 

You settle onto one of the stools by the island, Alexia hot on your tail as she passed Isabella some sugar. You felt a sharp kick to your stomach and your hand fell to your bump; you intertwined your hand with Alexia’s before placing it where your daughter kicked. You impossibly fell more in love with the woman in front of you as she laughed brightly, “She wants to join the fun early, don’t you mi preciosa.” Alexia was at eye level with you as she kissed your nose, “I love you and our family more than anything en el mundo.” 

You melt into her arms as she wraps her body around you, seeking brief comfort as she becomes overwhelmed. You catch Isabella’s eye who sends you a concerned look before you nod her over, not one to ever let her eldest sister do something without her Emilia followed and so did Val. Alexia felt arms wrap around her from behind as she turns, she’s face to face with Isabella who is balancing on the spinney stool. Emilia latches onto her waist with the softest smile while Val’s little arms wound around her legs. 

Alexia guides each of their hands to your stomach, letting them feel the little kicks. Isabella who had experienced it before clung onto to Alexia who happily reciprocated her hug, cradling her head to her chest as she watches Emilia’s pure fascination and Val’s wonderment. “Bebé princesa in Mama’s tummy.” Val asks her Mami as she gently prods at your stomach, “sí mi vida.” Emilia smiled as she took Val’s hand and held it up to your stomach, Val giggled as she felt the pressure against your skin, “That’s our little sister Vally.” Emilia coos as she holds her little sister close to her. You sent Alexia a playful glare, “We don’t know if it’s a girl yet.” You were met with identical knowing looks by all four girls. You already knew what was coming as you locked eyes with your wife. Just on time all girls chorused, “She’s a Putellas.” 

[sarawritestories]

can I request an Az x reader fic with lots of hurt/comfort vibes? maybe they are out on the town and they run into the readers ex who was not very nice to her and she gets scared and az goes into protective mode? thanks thanks thanks!!

My Wife. My Mate. My World

Azriel X Plus Size F Reader

A/N: Thank you for this request! This just felt fitting to have as a plus size reader I hope that's okay! This is also my first time writing for Az and I hope I did him justice for you!

Summary: Azriel and You are in your home Court of the Summer Court. When you run into your ex, the confidence you spent a long time building was shredded and your Mate was more than happy to remind you how amazing you were.

Content Warning: 18+ Minors DNI, Depictions of verbal abuse and slight (Briefly), slight fat shaming, low self esteem, fluffy ending

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.6k words

It was a beautiful day in your home court, Summer Court, your hair was up in a curly bun and a loose cobalt dress that had a crisscross design on the front and two high slits. The dress accentuated your curves and was one of your favorites. You didn’t bother with jewelry as shadows were always swirling around your arms and in the blazing summer heat their cool touch was a welcome reprieve.  A Hand wrapped around your waist as you walked through the beach, “I love you, in Night Court attire, but you are a goddess in Summer Court dresses.” Azriel whispered causing you to giggle.

“Azriel, you have said that when we are in every other court except for the Spring Court, and you also say that I am a goddess with no clothes on at all.” I tuck myself into his side, “I’m beginning to think I could wear garbage and you would call me a goddess.”

Azriel kissed the top of your head. “You would make quite divine garbage, Angel.” You rolled your eyes and elbowed him though he was quick and gripped your arm spinning you around while simultaneously taking your legs out from under you with his own. The next thing you knew your back was pressed against the warm sand and the shadowsinger was on top of you pinning your arms above your head with one hand. His wings flared up to block the sun rays, so you weren’t squinting. He had a playful smirk on his face, “Violence is never the answer, my love.” There was a twinkle in his eye as his face lowered to yours.

“Says one of the most feared spymaster and warrior in all of Prythian.” You murmured before his lips were on yours. The kiss makes your toes curl but every kiss he gives you has that effect ever since your first date, it only intensified when the mating bond snapped for both of you. He slipped his tongue in your mouth, and you moaned and arched your back yearning for more friction.  He pulled away causing you to groan in protest. He chuckled and pushed off you standing and dusting the sand off his knees.  You glared at him, “You’re cruel, Shadowsinger,” he laughed and held out his hand, you grasped it the scars bringing comfort on your skin.

Azriel lifted you up and gripped your waist bringing you close kissing your nose, “Listen I’m not trying to get a bloodstone because of public nudity. Rhys would kill us both.” His hand grazed down to your plump ass and squeezed, “When we get home though,” he continued to grope and, in a flash, slapped your tender flesh causing you to gasp as his lips grazed the shell of your ear, “I will happily show you how cruel I can be.”

You could feel the heat rise from your neck to your cheeks, “Is that a promise?”

He was about to respond when a familiar voice rang in your ears, “Y/N? Is that you?” Your body stilled and shadows swirled around my body anxious from the shift. You turned and were met with a familiar set of eyes. The male was in the Summer Court army uniform his gold skin compliment

You pulled away from Azriel and he let you to fully face your ex, “Micah, what a pleasant surprise.” You gave him a grin, but Azriel as he moved to your side his wings tucked in tightly.

Micah gave you a tight lip smile, “For sure, I heard you were in the throws of the Night Court.” He looked over to where your mate his cold assessing gaze.  Azriel’s relaxed demeaner shifted, he widened his legs, crossed his arms and made sure that one wing curved around you.

Micah opened his mouth and with a familiar glint in his eye you gripped Azriel’s arm. “Where are my manners? Micah, this is Azriel, my mate. Az, this is Micah, an old friend of mine.” Rage flared briefly in his gaze at your choice of words. “Darling, could you give us a minute?” you looked over at my mate, who’s hazel eyes met yours his brow quirked, “Just going to catch up, I’ll meet you at the café, okay?” Azriel met Micah’s gaze who puffed his chest out and you rolled your eyes.

Azriel pressed his lips to your forehead. “You sure?” he whispered, you gave him a nod and he gripped your face in your hands, and he crushed his lips to yours letting the kiss linger for a minute longer, and with a wary glance over the other male, he made a few stepped backs and took to the skies. A cool shadow still swirled around your wrist sliding up your arm and around your neck.

Micah held out an arm and I slipped my hand through his I felt his hand instantly flexed. “So, you fuck vermin now?” I scowled at him, and he laughed and continued, “You really had to scrape the bottom of the barrel, huh?”

You gritted my teeth, “Watch your fucking mouth, Micah,” trying to focus on your feet sinking into the sand.

Micah proceeded, “Why did you leave, Y/N?” He feigned sadness and you saw right through it. “We were so good together.” He took a moment to look me up and down, “Though you, don’t look nearly as radiant as you did when you were sinking into my cock.” His arm moved and snaked around my waist, his hand gripped the flesh and my body tensed. “They clearly do not treat you the way you deserved. With discipline.” I didn’t even notice my shadow fleeing.

You closed your eyes and tried block out his words, but you were sent back to that time before the Night Court took you in.

“Get out of my house,” Micah gritted out. The blonde soldier in his bed scrambled to get clothes on as the male placed his arms behind his head arrogance seeping out of his pores as the female fled and bumped into you fleeing the house you shared. “Enjoy the show, Princess.”

You wanted to be heartbroken by this, but you had suspected him of being unfaithful. I crossed my arms and leaned on the door frame, “How long?”

He snorted and decided to rise from the bed, “Does it matter? You’re not going to leave.”

Anger began to bubble up, “Oh really? Why is that?”

Micah approached with predatory grace and gripped my chin tightly. “Because I’m the only one who will give you the time of day. I mean you and I both know you’re plain looking,” He looked down at my body, “Your body is subpar, and you are lucky that I put up with you.” He pressed his thumb that smelled of the female he was with on my bottom lip and propped my mouth open. I knew what he wanted me to do. “You going to be a good girl or are we going to need to punish you.” I closed my mouth over his thumb and sucked, tears did fall of humiliation. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, “So here is what’s going to happen, you are going to be my pretty little doll for all events, and we’ll go on dates, and I will fuck anyone in our shared bed I please.”

A hand patting my cheek brought me back to the present, “Ah, good you’re back.” Micah smirked. “Were you thinking about me, Princess.” Uncomfort began to settle in my bones, and I sent that feeling down the bond as Micah pinned me against his chest.

With a thud and a cloud of sand blue siphons radiated through the smoke. Emerging from the cloud Azriel’s shadows swirled around and ready to attack. Rage filled those hazel eyes of his. “Get. Your. Hands. Off. Her. Now.” His voice was ethereal the shadows giving it a haunting cadence and it entranced you.

 Micah only tightened his grip on the order, and you yelped Azriel snarled. “Well look at that, Y/N you found someone who would be willing to kill, for your mediocrity.” You flinched as you met the shadowsinger’s eyes. His Hazel irises softened as he watched the verbal blow land. Though in a flash they steeled into calm rage as shadows leaked from his body and wrapped around you again bringing comfort.

Micah ignored the lethal man in front of him, “I mean maybe your Cunt is not so medio-“Azriel’s fist collided with the male’s face and he released his gripped on you. You wrapped your arms around Azriel’s neck and inhaled his scent.

“I got here as quickly as I could,” The High Lord of the Summer Court’s voice broke through the chaos on the beach. “Y/N, are you okay?” You turned to face him, Azriel’s hand splayed across your stomach soft circles rubbing my stomach.

“I’m fine, Asshole never knew when to shut up.” You muttered, your brows furrowed, “How did you know?”

“Azriel’s shadows alerted us something was wrong with one of our Soldiers and a member of a different court.”

You leaned into Azriel’s chest his hand holding you protectively, your head resting at his shoulder, “You never went to the café did you,” his shadows sputtered around me as if trying to confirm my theory.

He pressed his lips on your hair line, “The shadows that love you so much didn’t trust him, so I didn’t go far.”  He looked at Tarquin, “Will he be taken care of?”

Tarquin nodded, “Yes he will, we don’t take lightly to our soldiers manhandling civilians, especially when they hail from a different Court.” He looked at you, “I know this was once your home, I always want you to feel welcome here. I’m so sorry for Micah’s behavior.”

You crossed my arms around my body, “Micah has always been like that, but I appreciate you handling this for me.”

Tarquin nodded and walked to the other sentries that were hauling a knocked-out Micah away.

Azriel nuzzled his nose in your neck taking in your scent, “Would you like to go home?” He whispered.

               You closed my eyes, “Please.” Azriel pressed his lips to your neck and shadows erupted around the two of you and then you were in our town home that you built after you had your mating ceremony.

You pulled away from your mate and gave him a tight smile, “I’m going to hop in the bath get the sand out.”

Azriel smiled, “Want me to join you, worship you like the goddess you are.”

You shook your head, “Sorry, my love, I’m not in the mood.” You cupped his face and gave his free cheek a kiss.

He furrowed his brow and watched as you walked to your shared room and went into the bathroom.  In a few moments’ time you were in the bathtub and thinking back to everything Micah had said.

Your body is subpar, and you are lucky that I put up with you.

Did Azriel feel that way?

You’re plain looking.

Azriel always said you were his goddess, was he lying. Micah always lied and told me how beautiful I was.

Hours went by and you barely moved out of the bath and there was a soft knock on the door, Azriel poked his head in as you were staring at your knees. “Angel.” The spymaster walked into the room, closing the door behind him, and leaned against it. “You’ve been in here for hours.” You met his gaze, and he inhaled sharply as he felt worthlessness down the bond. In only a few strides he was by your side and gripping your hand, “Talk to me.”

Tears began to resurface as you faced your mate, “I’m sorry, Az.”

Azriel’s brows furrowed. “For what?” He was stroking the top of your hand with his thumb.

“For not being a good enough mate for you.” Azriel’s eyes flashed with pain but were gone in an instant. “You deserve someone better than me.” Tears were falling down your face and your breathing began to quicken, “I’m not worth-“

Azriel gripped the back of your neck and pressed your forehead against his and your eyes fluttered closed. “Shhh, enough of that.” He pressed a kiss on your forehead that was so tender, and he sent love down the bond like a caress on your soul. “Let’s get you clean up.” Azriel grabbed soap and a rag and began washing your body and massaging your hair. He was whispering sweet little nothings in your ear as he cleaned the sand and dirt from the day.

When he was done, he helped you out of the tub and wrapped you in a towel, his shadows bringing in your favorite nightgown that was the same blue as Azriel’s siphons. “Arms up.” You lifted your arms, tears still flowing down your cheeks.

Once the nightgown hugs your skin you wrap your arms around yourself, and the cool touch of the shadows yank my arms apart and your brows furrowed. “They don’t like you hiding,” His hands met yours and the comfort of his scars kissing your skin the shadows slithering between both of your hands. “I don’t like it either.”

He led you to your shared bedroom and led you to the full-length mirror. His shadows swirling around your neck and through your hair giving you some light kisses. He rubbed the top of your arms and left soft kisses on your bare shoulder. His hazel eyes met yours in the mirror, “Tell me, Angel, what do you see?”

You took a deep shaky breath, “I see me.” He casts a look toward you, causing you to bite your lip. “I see a plain, large woman who isn’t a warrior like Feyre or Nesta, Or beautiful like Gwyn or Elain.”

Azriel wrapped his arms around your torso, his fingers digging into your soft skin and gave your shoulder a soft bite, eliciting a moan from you. “You want to know what I see?” I nod and he presses you closer to his chest and sways back and forth as he looks at your reflection. “I see a strong female, that fought and lived though a war. I see a kindhearted female, who took it upon herself to make her best friend’s mate comfortable just so she didn’t feel alone,” You smile thinking of the first time you met Ferye. “I see a loving female, who saw the mangled hands of a broken male and decided to kiss every scare telling him that you want to place good memories on those scars to erase the bad ones.”

Your hand founds his and gave him a squeeze as tears streamed down before he turned you around to face him, he tucked the wet strands of hair behind your ear, “I see a female, who is powerful because she was brave enough to leave an abusive situation with someone who did not appreciate or respect all the amazing things, I adore about you.” He wiped the tears from your cheeks and kissed you passionately for a moment and when he pulls away, he keeps your face close to his. “I love you, Y/N. Your smile almost made me fall to my knees in praise.” You laughed and you could see his eyes light up at the sound. “My Wife, My Mate, my world, is anything but mediocre. You are amazing and I thank the Cauldron everyday that it brought you to me.” He kissed your nose, “My beautiful.” A kiss to my lips, “Kind,” Another kiss, “Passionate,” another kiss, “Sexy,” he growled, and I smiled, “Mate.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I love you, Az.” You kissed his lips and Azriel’s hands slid down to grip your plump ass, “Now I do recall you saying something about worshiping me-“ You couldn’t finish your statement before Azriel scooped you in his arms and put you to your bed and spent all night showing you just how amazing he thought you were.

[mxtxfanatic]

Let’s talk Yi City Arc! I’ve seen a few posts since my time in the fandom that talks about the Yi City Arc as unnecessary or out of place in the whole of the mdzs narrative. I’ve even seen some suggest that the disconnect is because Yi City was originally a separate story to mdzs, a sort of prototype, if you will, to explain it away. I, too, after my first read questioned the significance of this arc to the overall story. However, the Yi City arc and its placement so early in the novel is actually just a huge and very clever spoiler to most of the important plot points of the overarching story… if you know what plot points to look for, which an un-spoiled first-time reader would not. So let’s talk about those spoilers:

1) The righteous cultivation clans’ refusal to stand against evil—and, really, their indulgence of it—leads to the wiping out of an entire clan and a monastery as well as the deaths of two powerful cultivators unaffiliated with any major sect.

The “righteous” cultivation clans happily ignore that fact that the Jin Clan is amassing power through unscrupulous guest disciples, and it is only when Xiao Xingchen, an outsider, brings the crime against the Chang Clan to light do they bother to pretend to do anything about it. However behind the scenes, the Jin Clan assassinates their only real opposition, and the other clans, great and small, continue to do nothing as Xue Yang is released to commit another massacre. The Jin are never held responsible for their actions. Likewise, all the clans turn away from Wei Wuxian, an outsider, when he calls out the Jin Clan’s crimes against the Wen remnants and accuses them of amassing power via poaching vassal clans and attempting to steal his tools. Behind the scenes, the Jin work to undermine Wei Wuxian’s reputation before joining in to massacre Wei Wuxian and the Wen remnants. The Jin are never held accountable for this, which directly leads into the Xue Yang situation.

2) Xiao Xingchen has his reputation slandered by Xue Yang killing others using his sword.

After Xiao Xingchen kills himself, Xue Yang begins using his sword to enact “vengeance” on the remnants of the Chang Clan, who he considers as having “betrayed” Xiao Xingchen. Finding the signature of Xiao Xingchen’s sword on the slain bodies leads the cultivation world to believe that a disillusioned Xiao Xingchen is killing in revenge. In much the same way, Wei Wuxian is used as a scapegoat by the cultivation world whenever bad things happen, such as the presence of walking corpses or the mass digging of graves. In neither situation does any clan investigate the true events of the situations, happy to blame the easiest suspect and allow the unrest to continue. In both situations, Xiao Xingchen and Wei Wuxian are eventually found innocent of the crimes for which they are accused, and the true culprit is revealed.

3) Xiao Xingchen is betrayed by someone he considered close to him, which eventually leads to his death.

Xiao Xingchen, due to being literally blinded by his sacrifice, ends up running into, rescuing, and caring for his mortal enemy, Xue Yang. Taking advantage of Xiao Xingchen’s blindness, Xue Yang tricks him into murdering a bunch of innocents and his best friend, causing him to commit suicide. Wei Wuxian, similarly, is betrayed by a close friend he kept near, figuratively blinded by a former childhood friendship and the present debt he felt owed to said friend’s parents. This misplaced trust directly leads to his death.

4) Xiao Xingchen must give up his eyes for Song Lan to see again, because Baoshan Sanren is not magical.

This is probably the biggest spoiler of the entire arc, but by the time you get to where this information is relevant, you’d probably have forgotten that this was even said. Xue Yang blinds Song Lan after destroying his home, and to atone for this, Xiao Xingchen goes to his master, Baoshan Sanren, to beg for her help. However, Baoshan Sanren cannot make something out of nothing. Mxtx explicitly writes that tidbit into the narration. Song Lan goes up the mountain blind and comes down with eyes. Xiao Xingchen goes up the mountain with eyes and comes down blind. Song Lan was given Xiao Xingchen’s eyes.

Much later in the story, Jiang Cheng loses his golden core. Wei Wuxian offers the miracle solution of Baoshan Sanren “giving” him a new one. Jiang Cheng, obviously skeptical, questions Wei Wuxian up until the moment he must go up “Baoshan Sanren’s mountain” alone. Wei Wuxian descends, alone, looking pale and weak. Later, when Wei Wuxian is ambushed by the Wen, Wen “Core-melting Hand” Zhuliu touches him and is visibly shocked by a discovery that he then keeps to himself. Jiang Cheng emerges from the mountain with a new golden core, while Wei Wuxian emerges from the Burial Mounds with a new cultivation method wholly independent of the need for a golden core. The Yi City arc tells us why this is: “Baoshan Sanren” cannot make something out of nothing.

And these are just the major parallels I remember off the top of my head. However, while a reread makes a lot of these parallels directly applicable to specific plot points in Wei Wuxian’s own story, I would argue that the biggest role the explicit paralleling is meant to play for a new reader is to make you question the dominant narrative of the main story. The narration tells us that Wei Wuxian is a bloodthirsty man who may as well be a demon, known for cruelty and vengeance. We see none of that from his character when he is resurrected. Then we get a mini-drama where a man with attributes Wei Wuxian directly relates to, with a story Wei Wuxian directly compares to his own life, is scapegoated by society, killed, then eventually vindicated. If nothing else, the Yi City Arc is meant to make you, as a reader, stop and go “Hey, wait a minute, what if Wei Wuxian isn’t the bad guy here???” And once you understand that, you should start questioning everything the prologue told you, just like the juniors start to question what they were told about Xiao Xingchen post Yi City in their group debrief.