#crescent city tattoo

[audsthoughts]

Just showing off my bookish tattoos I’ve gotten so far this year✨✨

[acourtofquestions]

If you were in the Maasverse what would your tattoo be?

[ruhnlidiasworld]

HER NAME TATTOOED ON HIS FINGERS I'M GONNA BE SICK

art: @/snowarox (instagram)

[witchthewriter]

𝕽𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖕 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖇𝖔𝖆𝖗𝖉 𝖋𝖔𝖗 @aubrobrewhaha with Ruhn Danaan.

[evalescoart]

Through Love, All is Possible. From Crescent City

I have stickers of these available in my shop

[feysandfeels]

Okay besties… now that all is set and done, important question, where should I get my “Light It Up” tattoo??

[fazcinatingblog]

Oh yeah, Tumblr, last night on the train home, I saw a man with "memento mori" tattooed on his arm... I couldn't work out the tattoo on his other arm, some kind of picture, it wasn't "through love, all is possible" or "light it up" or

[theorphicangel]

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐈'𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮. | sukuna x gn!reader

word count: 1k

tags: fluff, slightly mean 'kuna, he calls reader 'stupid' :(, modern au

synopsis: you call sukuna pretty knowing all too well how much he hates it when you say that. (or does he?)

You wake to a warm hand wrapped around your waist. Molded into a moon’s crescent, your body is wrapped within a warm embrace. Sukuna’s grip is firm despite currently being under the authority of slumber. The early August sun streams in through the blinds, welcoming you to another day with the sounds of city traffic leaking through the windows of your apartment. 

It seems like the two of you ended up falling asleep on the couch after staying up late the previous night, the tv screen glows with white letters reading  ‘Are you still watching?’

The scent of a husky cologne fills your nostrils, a classic scent of your partner. You don’t dare move to stir the man beneath you. In a deep rhythmic pattern his chest rises and falls, gentle snores leave his parted lips. You take the opportunity to study Sukuna’s features starting with his black tattoos intricately designed on his body and face. 

This may be the single moment where you fail to witness his usual grumpy expression on his face. Instead of the usual crease between his brows or the squinting of his eyes and his lips overturned into a grimace; Sukuna’s expression seems to be one of pure tranquility, unusual from his regular look of disapproval. You take note of the softness of his lips, pink and plump and ever so kissable. His cheeks are slightly puffy from sleep, you fight the urge within yourself to pinch them between your fingers. His overall demeanor is relaxed as he  unconsciously lets his guard down, a rare sight. 

The room remains so quiet you can hear his heart repeatedly thump in your ear, the rhythmic beat provides the gentle temptation of lulling you back to sleep. As stubborn you are, you fight to keep your eyelids open whilst simultaneously tracing over the black tattoos across Sukuna’s arm. With controlled caution, your fingers trace lightly over his skin. You’ve yet to ask him the meaning behind his tattoos wondering whether there’s a sincere backstory or if they were merely a creation from an impulsive moment. 

 In the early stages of dating he had subtly confessed that his first tattoo was an act of rebellion against his parents and as time passed he simply got into the habit of obtaining the rest.

Glancing up to his face, you study the intricate tattoos placed on his chin. You wonder if he designed them by himself or had aid from someone else. What prompted him to do it you wonder, where did he get his inspiration from? How did his parents react to the rest of the tattoos? But you know all too well how little Sukuna cares for others' opinions. 

Nonetheless, you find them pretty to look at. Whether he’s doing some mindless task or lazing with you on the couch, your eyes always fall upon his hypnotic black patterns. And it seemed he always caught you in the act. 

Even now.

“You’re always staring at me, creep.”

His voice is low. Raspy enough to send vibrations across your body. A stirring feeling in your lower gut appears ever so suddenly. So caught up in your thoughts you failed to notice the man beneath you stir awake, heavy lidded eyes gazing at you. A subtle pinch on your waist announces his return from slumber.

“You’re pretty.”

The words leave your mouth before you could even comprehend them. You feel his body stiffen beneath you before hearing a tut leave his mouth and witness him turning his head away. Presumably to hide the way that his cheeks burn up  and how the tips of his ears turn pink. 

Majority of people would be honored to hear a compliment, offering their gratitude or perhaps extend one back.

But not Sukuna. He got frustrated anytime you paid him a compliment. Instead of a compliment he throws back an insult.

“You’re stupid.”

“That’s mean, ‘kuna.”

“That’s mean, ‘kuna.”  he mimics despite his voice still being thick from sleep. A low groan leaves his throat, his arm leaving your waist temporarily to stretch above his head. 

A double tap on your waist indicates that he wants you to shift over, off from his chest. 

A simple pat on your head is given before he rises from the couch. His warmth immediately leaves  your body and a sudden craving sensation fills your body. His footsteps thump off to the bathroom to freshen up and his infamous scowl appears on his face paired with the crease between his brows. You observe his pink locks as he runs a hand through it.

 Messy.  Just the way you like it. Pretty, just the way you like it. 

It takes everything within your body to hold  back from calling him pretty again knowing all too well that he would end up irritating him further. 

At least that’s what he lets you think.

He wouldn’t ever admit it to you but each time your lips sound out another compliment it takes every bone within Sukuna’s body to not to hold you down and keep you hostage by laying you down and planting kisses all  across your body. 

 It takes everything in him to not reveal how much of an effect your words have on him; how as soon as you call him ‘pretty’  he creates a distance between the two of you, keeping you far away enough so you don’t hear the rapid beating of his heart; so you don’t see the way he avoids eye contact or the way that the tips of his ears burn.

You seemed to be some sort of illness that he couldn’t get rid of.  Something that he couldn’t find a cure for. 

But of course he would never admit that to you. Not ever. Not even if the entire world caught on fire.

But you’re okay with that.  Because even if the entire world did catch on fire, you’d still turn and call him pretty one last time.

And he’d still like it. 

thank you for reading!! reblogs are much appreciated!!

[imaginesmai]

Your name on my body - modern!Azriel

Beautiful and amazing @thehighladywrites posted this INCREDIBLE idea and I had to try it. I've never written a modern!acotar AU, a college!acotar AU or nerdy-tattooed!Azriel. I haven't written bimbo!reader, and since English is not my first language, I don't know if I have done it right. I enjoyed this sooooo much, let me know if you want more or have some requests!

Extra points for whoever gets the crescent city saga reference!

Plot: nerd-tattooed!Azriel gets a tattoo with your name and it leads to smutty time.

Warnings: porn and porn and Azriel being freaky and porn with just an inch of plot. This is dirty.

The door of the apartment closed behind your back and you were met with an empty living room. You usually didn’t come in unannounced, because Azriel’s shared apartment always had some type of surprise. But your boyfriend had asked you to do so, and to use the spare key he had given you a while ago.

Azriel had been studying for his finals for weeks, and had finally finished them. Instead of going out to celebrate like you had, he had stayed in with his friends. You hadn’t seen each other too much, apart from the long hours in the library where he tried to help you with your exams – and you didn’t count those hours, since you did nothing more than stare at him.

The apartment, as expected, was trashed. There were beer bottles in the ground, suspicious stains in the carpet and a very naked Cassian sleeping in the couch. You had just barely gotten out of your hangover, and Azriel’s roommate was about to start his.

Through all the chaos, you were certain none of it belonged to Azriel. He liked to party, sure, but not hard and long as you. He preferred to stay quiet and observe, with a drink that lasted him the whole night. You were trying to remember if the heel that poked through the back of the couch was from your friend when you heard him coming.

“This way, princess”

His deep, morning voice made you turn around and stumble to his presence. Like a serpent caught in a sweet melody, you were always pulled towards him. Azriel was wearing a grey t-shirt and black shorts, that fit him like a globe. Dark glasses and disheveled hair. And lots of tattoos that you had traced previously with your fingers and tongue.

“Hey, handsome” you greeted him, not hiding your bright smile. “Got your text this morning. What were you doing up so early?”

“Hit the gym before breakfast. Not all of us are hangover”

“Tell that to the other half of the campus or your roommates. Rhysand spent the night with Feyre in the rooftop”

Your roommate hadn’t appeared last night, and you had found a very cryptic text that morning that led you to the rooftop – where both her and Rhysand were fast asleep with the bottle still uncorked.

As soon as you were within reach, Azriel pulled you closer by your waist and smashed his lips against yours. He tasted like coffee and mint, and erased any trace of drunkenness from last night. You tangled your manicured fingers between his locks, shamefully scratching the nape of his neck with your long nails.

They differed from Azriel’s bitten ones. Your short dress from his baggy clothes, and your dyed hair from his untamed ones. While you liked to shine in the public, to dress up and party, Azriel preferred to be quiet, thrift clothes and study. To the campus, you were the bimbo, and he was the nerd.

But you were his bimbo and he was your nerd.

“How was the party?” Azriel asked between kisses, his lips not staying for too long on yours.

“Good. Missed you” you almost whined when he pulled back too soon, and he chuckled.

“Missed you too. Did you have fun?”

You hummed as his hands lowered until they cupped the edge of your ass. The dress was short enough he could pull it up until anyone could see your panties, but neither of you cared. He had to lean down to do so, and you took advantage to deepen the kiss.

On the outside, Azriel might have looked like the shy, nerdy student, but he was freaky. You had been surprised when a hook-up with your assigned tutor turned out in the best night of your life, and there was nothing that could unhook you from him.

His hands were big enough to squeeze most of your ass, kneading it just like you loved it. Roughly, you were pushed into his body. Azriel was always semi-hard when you came to view, and you always took care of choosing the shortest and most provocative dress in his presence.

Few things were better than a good night out and a good morning fucking.

“I’ve got a surprise for you. Can I take you to my room?”

“You don’t have to ask”

But he did, breaking away your heated kiss. Azriel pushed the bridge of his glasses up and gave you a crooked smile, offering you his hand. You gladly took it and let him guide you to his room. The farthest, the darkest, but also the neatest. Azriel spent a good part of his time in there, and you loved it. He had incorporated you slowly in it, from the spare clothes in his closet for you to the stupid crafts you did together when you were bored.

“And what did you do last night? Started studying for the next semester?” you teased him, and he gave you a sideway look.

“I could, but I was busy with Mor”

“What were you doing with Mor?”

Your frown was instant, as the jealousy that rose to your chest. Morrighan was his friend, and you respected that, but you knew he had liked her in the past. That the woman was gorgeous, brilliant and smart in ways you didn’t complement Azriel. You liked her enough to be kind and maybe envious, but the notice of her with Azriel left you with a sour taste in the mouth.

Azriel chuckled at the edge of your tone and didn’t answer. If anyone had reasons to be jealous, was him, yet he never was. You had quite the reputation in college, and dressed to impress. More than once, you had been walking with Azriel and received not so subtle glances. You had even gotten the barista’s number when you asked for his order. And through all of that, Azriel had just shrugged and told you he trusted you.

So, for his sake, you tried to do the same.

During the longest seconds in your life, you were quiet. You sat on his bed and crossed your arms across your chest. Azriel closed the door behind him, just as you heard the first groan from his roommate, and turned around so he could face you.

The height difference, the size difference, warmed you in every place of your body. Azriel loved the gym just as he loved his books, and there was not a part of his body that he didn’t work. You liked the difference, liked his big form and how it towered over you even standing. As you sat in silence, you bit the inside of your cheek to control yourself.

“We went to the tattoo parlor, since she knows the owner. I wanted something done” he watched your frown with diversion, and continued when you said nothing. “So, you can be jealous of her, who has a girlfriend now, but I’m supposed to be fine with guys drooling over you last night?”

“I didn’t look at them”

“I didn’t look at her” he answered back, and took off his tee.

The sleeveless piece of cloth didn’t hide much, but you still lost your breath when it hit the ground. His muscled, tattooed chest came to view, and that was enough to make you get up. It wasn’t Mor’s lips that had left marks two nights ago on his left shoulder, or who had bitten his pierced nipple until he had come into his pants in the library’s bathroom.

It was you who had caused the tent in his pant, that caused his eyes to darken when you stepped closer. You placed your hand over his right thigh, the muscles tightening underneath. His boner hit your stomach and you pushed yourself against it, opening your mouth to apologize, or maybe to suck the life out of him.

“Don’t you want to know what I got?” he asked, sounding on edge.

“I don’t understand half of your tattoos. Whatever you got is hot and perfect, just like you”

“Look down, princess” Azriel groaned when your nail touched his dick.

“On my knees?”

You were ready to do so, or let him bend you over the table. He could do with your body as he pleased, but you were caught off guard when you noticed the reddish, new ink wrapped in invisible paper. It looked delicate against the rest of his tattoos, new and beautiful. Right between his hips, where the dark trail of dark hair had just been removed, was a new tattoo.

In his v-line, that you licked and adored and stared at so much. With the nickname he had gifted you since he met you and the stupid, childless heart you drew on every notebook of his.

Princess ♡

Your breath came out shaky as you traced the letters with your finger. If it wasn’t for the make-up, you had so carefully put on that morning with a killing headache, you would have burst into tears. His own hand covered yours and helped you trace the missing letters, and the heart.

It should have been distracting to look at it while his dick demanded your attention inches lower, but you couldn’t look away. Not when you felt a hard clench on your heart that left you lightheaded.

“Do you like it?” it was a whisper in the dark room, a spark of doubt that made you look up.

How could you not like it, not like anything about such a perfect man? You nodded enthusiastically, your other hand searching blindly for his.

“Why did you get that?”

“Because I love you, and I want to carry you with me always” Azriel’s eyes were kind, and soft, and loving – and they were making you dizzy with desire.

“Did it hurt too much?” you asked, looking down again at the tattoo. You, who had smooth and unmarked skin, couldn’t phantom the pain of a nursing needle to draw blood. “It must have”

“Worth every second. Lay in bed, princess. I need to be between your legs”

He didn’t let you take the initiative and threw you on his bed with a quick move. Azriel towered over you for a second before kneeling between your already open, wide legs, and leaving his glasses on the. He smirked with no doubts as he pulled the hem of your dress over your panties. His fingers were rough, pressing hard enough to leave red marks on its way.

You only bit your lower lip when he rose your dress to your waist and sneaked his hand beneath, the edge of his fingers pressing over your breasts.

With the idea of that outcome, you hadn’t bothered with a bra, and his eyes darkened even more at the discovery. You watched his throat work around the new information as he rose his body higher, now covering your breasts with his hands. He squeezed them, keeping them trapped in his palms as he lowered where you needed him.

“I’m gonna erase all those looks from last night” he promised, hands retreating following your curved. “Whose got you this wet, hm?”

“Azzie, don’t be mean”

Azriel was in your hands the moment his nickname fell from your lips, and at your mercy when you used that whiney, flirty tone. He didn’t even bother taking off your panties – he tore them off. Like a sheet of paper, like a piece of cake. You moaned his name, and it came out like a yelp when he dug in without reservations.

His tongue was feral as he licked a long stripe between your entrance to your clit. He pressed it against your clit and actually trapped it between his teeth for a moment. The barrier between pain and pleasure was hard to tell when he snuck his hands under your ass and lifted you a few inches for him to devour.

“Love this so much” you spoke with a content smile, as he massaged your ass in silent appreciation. “Love you”

One of your hands reached to his hair, pushing his face closer to your center. He agreed and pushed one finger inside you. Your mind emptied when he began pumping it in and out, curling it just in the right spot before pulling out and replacing it with his tongue.

Cassian pounded on the wall and yelled at you to be quiet, and Azriel pounded back harder as a fuck you response. You didn’t have it in you to care about him as Azriel pulled you closer by the ass, your legs laying boneless against his wide back.

His nose brushed your clit, up and down, and you weren’t sure he could breathe from how passionate and hard he was eating you out. You called his name wordlessly, your mouth emitting only broken noises.

“So good for me, princess. My beautiful princess” his voice was guttural, so primal it made you lock his head between your legs. “Give me one, come on. Give me the first one so I can wreck you from behind”

“That sounds clinically dangerous!”

Azriel growled against your clit and parted your folds with his chin. He ran his lips through all of them, and by the time he pushed his finger back in, you were cumming on his face and screaming so loud his name you could have woken up the rest of the campus. He caressed your lower regions as you came down from your high, accompanying your orgasm with lazy, long stripes through your folds.

When Azriel came back up, his chin and mouth bright from your juices and his hair sticking in every direction, you were already ready for round two. He didn’t need to be told, and he rose leaving a trail of bites up your body.

He briefly stopped to leave two twin marks between your breasts, so round and perfect and purple you were squirming under him again.

“Azzie” it had been the only word you were capable of saying, and your mind cleared down for a second

“Was that good? Worthy princess treatment after a night out?” Azriel asked, leaving wet kisses on your neck.

“Perfect”

You hugged his back as he pulled himself above you, and your nails left angry, red marks across his lower waist. You pulled the band of his sport shorts and underwear down, and squeezed his hard ass just like he had been doing to yours. His dick sprung free with little effort, and he rubbed himself against your side as you caught your breath.

It wasn’t a one-time thing with Azriel, and you heard Cassian muttering about calling 911 before turning on the music. It took Azriel at least three of your orgasm to be content, and he could cum another three before he let you go. He always stopped, for your sake, when your legs couldn’t hold you up anymore and you had tears ruining your perfect make-up.

Few things turned him more on than being the cause of that ruined make-up.

Before he could empty your mind again, you quickly brought up the only coherent thought that kept pounding your head.

“I want your name too. On me”

“A tattoo?” he raised a brow.

Azriel didn’t stop rubbing himself slowly but tightly against your thigh. His hand was over your sore cunt, in a possessive manor he only showed inside the bedroom. At your petition, he pressed his finger tighter.

“Here. Between my breasts, with your name” you quickly explained. “I want Azzie between my breasts, so each time someone looks at me, he knows these are yours”

“You are mine”

None of your relationships had lasted as long or had been as deep. You were the type of girl who would have his ex-name tattooed, but truth was you were wary of tattoos, and Azriel knew that. He had tried to get you into a simple one, something he could draw for you and hold your hand through it.

His body was a map of ink and drawings, some of them goofy and some of them deep. He liked your innocent, smooth skin, but he found himself breathing harder at the thought of his name on your chest. Thinking of how many kisses, how many marks he would leave there every given moment.

Azriel recalled not a month ago pulling down your cleavage between classes to kiss your nipples sore, the hand he always sneaked to unclasp your bra and touch you beneath the lace. His name, the nickname that brought him to his knees, decorating that skin.

“Are you sure?” he didn’t want to get his hopes up, not when he was ready to tattoo you himself right then and there. With Cassian playing loud classical music in the next room.

“And a crown drawn by you on the top” you rose a teasing eyebrow at his lack of movement, given the discussion for finished. “Are you going to wreck me from behind or do I have to ask Cassian for help?”

Azriel broke into a loud laugh before smacking your cunt loudly, then manhandling you around. With his left arm holding you by your waist, he pressed himself against your back. His dick brushed all the right spots between your bodies, but your hands were trapped under you and you couldn’t touch him.

Complaining would only make him take out those beautiful handcuffs you knew he owned so you only bit your lip and whined like the good girl you were for him.

“I’m gonna tattoo my name between your breasts, if that’s what you want” he whispered against your ear, his other hand appearing around your throat. “I love you so much, princess. So fucking much”

Azriel squeezed your throat at the same time he entered you with a rough, only thrust. It avoided the moan that died in your chest, that had you rolling back your eyes in pleasure. It didn’t stop Azriel from moaning your name out loud, loud enough for Cassian to turn up the stupid music.

The headboard banged against the wall and his glasses fell to the ground, as he left you no room to breathe, to recover. Maybe he had managed to shut you down, but he was doing nothing about his own sounds. You were vaguely aware of Cassian slamming the door of the apartment after screaming some profanities, but you didn’t acknowledge him.

Not when Azriel seemed to be trying to tattoo his name deep into your body and soul.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @starsinyourseyes

[venusin-aries]

Anyway, these are some of SJM’s thoughts on what characteristics make a love interest enticing in a book:

“Abs, abdominal muscles, pecs and tattoos. They also need their own history and be able to challenge their romantic partner in some way— there has to be a conflict or a spark. There has to be an initial chemistry/spark with their partner.”

+

“Sarah enjoys writing banter so much she wrote a whole scene in Crescent City (that was cut) that was 15 pages worth of Bryce and Hunt playing their world’s version of Mario Kart, and ripping into each other.”

Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright, “What do we get if we finish the course?” Az’s shadows danced around him. “Since there’s no chance in hell any of you will finish the course, we didn’t bother to get a prize.” Boos sounded. Gwyn lifted her chin in challenge. “We look forward to proving you wrong.”

This is just one of the times Gwyn clapped back at Azriel. Her little comebacks in the bonus were so sassy and addictive.

15 PAGES OF BANTER SJM HAD TO CUT IN CC. FIFTEEN. I would have loved more Quinlar banter.

This is how SJM writes her couples. This is how she likes her couples.

No wonder the next book is over 1,000 pages long, no matter if it's Gwynriel or Elucien, she's leaving the banter IN from now on and I couldn't be more excited.

[acourtofquestions]

“To the stars who listen, and the dreams that are answered.” “Still the image haunted his dreams; a lovely girl gazing at the stars, and the stars who gazed back.” “You could rattle the stars, if only you dared.”

credits: art Jana Runn (JanaRunneck), quotes Sarah J. Maas

[ruhnlidiasworld]

HOFAS/DAYNIGHT SPOILERS

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The way I passed YEARS in the "Ruhn is a girl's dad" agenda just to HOFAS to come and make him a boy's dad 😭 I'm so down for him and those boys, I NEED THIS FAMILY SARAH J MAAS!

[throneofsmut]

Kinktober Day 13: In Public

Ruhn Danaan x Reader || WC: 611

The bite of the cold glass window on your peaked nipples sends shivers down your spine. “Ruhn,” you mutter anxiously, “what if someone sees us?”

One of his tattooed hands snakes up the back of your neck, up into your hair as he threads his fingers in the strands. “I want them too, my love.” The other splays against your tummy, applying pressure as he thrusts into you. 

“Ru!” Your hands slam against the glass window giving you enough leverage to push back into him. Meeting him stroke for stroke. “That’s why we’re fucking in the living room, at night with the lights on? So everyone can see me?”

He slides in and holds you to him, grinding himself against you. He places kisses on your back, shoulder, and up your neck. “So everyone can see us.” He whispers into your ear. His lips tickling the soft skin. 

Something in your tummy flutters at his words and you rock your hips gently, making him groan. “Don’t you want them to see how beautiful you look taking my cock?”

Your heartbeat quickens. Your breathy moan makes the glass fog for a couple seconds. 

He tilts your hips, pulling out and pushing backing. “Or how you look like a goddess when  I make you cum?” 

“Yeah-h,” you breathe. 

He picks up the pace. Plunging in and out. “The way your perfect tits bounce when you pant.” You take in a deep breath, your chest straining against the glass window. 

He licks your pulse point on your neck. “The way your pretty little pussy quivers around my cock.” His hand that was gripping your hip moves to stroke your clit. 

You drop a hand from the window and place it atop his, urging his fingers to swirl over your clit faster. A content sigh leaves you and you close your eyes. Basking in his touch. 

You fuck back onto him, skin prickling from the budding pleasure, the muscles in your tummy and thighs tensing. “Love,” he rasps.

“Ruhn.”

“Open your eyes,” he instructs. You do, exhaling sharply at the sight in front of you. Shuddering as goosebumps bloom all over your body. 

Fae, angels, shifters, and other crescent city inhabitants all watch you and Ruhn. Some are on the street below, others in the building across from you. Their chests rising and falling with shallow breaths, their pupils blown wide, making their eyes look almost entirely black. 

Some of them touch themselves discreetly over their clothes. Others, touch themselves under their clothes. The bolder males have their cocks out, stroking themselves. While the bolder females tweak their nipples, rubbing tight little circles on their clits. 

You can’t help the smirk settling over your lips. “All their eyes are on you,” Ruhn groans. “They’re captivated by you.” You nod, before turning your head to look at him. He’s smirking too, the perfect picture of pure male satisfaction. 

“Keep your eyes on them as you cum.” 

“Okay,” you hum. Struggling to keep your eyes open as his fingers glide over your clit while he slams into you. “Cum with me?”

“Whatever you want, love.” 

You see some of the males spill their loads while some of the females gush on their hands. 

“Ruhn,” you whimper.

“Let go, I’m right behind you.”

Your hands fall to his thighs pulling him deep into you as your legs tremble. Everyone’s eyes on you setting your body alight with pleasure as you cum on Ruhn’s cock with a shattered cry. His cock twitching inside of you as his cum floods your quivering cunt. 

Both of you satisfied and spent just like the males and females who came from watching you.

****

Taglist: @daycourtofficial @03michi01 @impossibelle @the-sweet-psycho @aestheticalien99 @itsinherited @a-courtof-azriel @lalalucha @theonewithwritersblock @blessthepizzaman @the-starlight-way @anama-cara @halo-hanging @fhgsvbnh @p1nkfluffysocks @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @wolfbc97 @importantduckhumanoidpatrol @edance2000 @velarisnightsky444 @headcaseproductions1 @mellyy-1 @caticorn61 @baileybird71 @tired-sleepyhead @rosecobollway @scarsandallaz @lilah-asteria @90angiex @scorpioriesling @hellokittysbtc @thegoddessofnothingness @comeoneladiesitstime2yearn @that-one-small-world

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Main Masterlist

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

[ray-winters]

we just wanna hear any hcs you have for our boy misch

Alright, y’all asked for it, buckle up:

Mischa makes most of his money from an apprenticeship he has at the only tattoo parlor in Uranium City. He gets paid a bit, and on top of that he gets free tattoos (which is where he got all of his from). Plus it keeps him out of the house and also pisses his very traditionally valued adoptive parents off. Win win.

My Mischa only has tattoos on his right arm bc I am left handed so HE is left handed- he does his own tattoos mostly. He was going to start a sleeve on his left arm after he got home from the fall fair.

Speaking of his tattoos; the first tattoo he gave himself was one that says “Bad Egg” w/devil horns and a devil tail. “Bad Egg” was something his adoptive dad would frequently call him, so it was his way of reclaiming the name for himself, and pissing off his adoptive parents bc they were viciously anti-tattoo

He has another tattoo of a crescent moon with a “ - T” next to it bc he asked Talia to draw him something to put on his body. She drew the moon because of the time difference between Kyiv & Uranium, any time she sees the moon she knows she’s going to hear from Mischa soon. So she began to associate Mischa with the moon.

My personal fav tattoo I gave Mischa is that stereotypical “S” where you draw 6 lines and connect them. This is brand fucking new to Mischa, he had never seen it before, and he thought it was dope af, so he tattooed it on himself immediately.

He has a tattoo of a pot leaf, but it’s not very good so everyone always thinks it’s a Canadian maple leaf. Which drives him up the wall.

Mischa has taken in a small black cat that would hang around the tattoo parlor and would occasionally follow him home. It lives with him in the basement, it comes and goes, and it is a well kept hidden secret.

Mischa hangs at Noel’s house…a lot. Noel’s mom lets him stay the night often bc she knows about his home life and thinks it’s disgraceful, so she takes care of him.

Mischa was class clown and relatively popular at his high school in Ukraine- which is the polar opposite of how he’s received at St. Cassian’s. People either are afraid of him, or they try to make fun of him, so either way he has found himself alone most of the time.

He’d never admit it, but Mischa does actually enjoy hanging with the kids in the choir. He gets to hang with his bestie, Noel. He admires Constance’s patience and kindness, he thinks she’s probably the best person in Uranium. While he and Ocean get on each other’s nerves, there’s a small part of him that secretly looks forward to their fights. But only a little bit. He doesn’t notice Ricky is there until after the accident, and then spends a large chunk of his time trying to rectify that by getting to know/encourage Ricky.

He and Noel became friends bc some of the boys who were trying to bully Mischa were also bullying Noel. When Mischa was about to start defending Noel, Noel ended up proving he can defend himself with his quick wit rather than fists. This is a trait that Mischa admires a lot, so they pretty much joined forces that day and they’ve been the dynamic duo of Uranium City ever since.

Mischa has pretty severe abandonment issues and it prone to panic attacks because of it. He’s more of a “suffer in silence” kind of guy, so it takes someone with patience and kindness like Constance to give him some tips on how to calm himself down. I.E. remembering a calming situation like “climbing back into your bed in the morning and feeling the heat left over from your body.”

Mischa had been kicked out of a few schools in Uranium, and his adoptive figures (they’re not really parents, barely guardians) gave him one last chance at St. Cassian’s. When he was caught stealing the communion wine, Father Marcus told him he HAD to join the choir and that he HAD to at the very least sing at the competition. Which is why he doesn’t do any choreo during the opening number.

Addendum- he does ONE move during the opening number. The finger wag on “oh no no” because Noel came up with that move, and after Ocean tried to cut it, Mischa said it was the only move he’d do even if it was cut. So he forced her to keep the move in via malicious compliance.

Over the course of the musical, there isn’t really a moment where he thinks he’s gonna win. His life wasn’t fair, why should his death be any different.

He thinks Jane is THE coolest and THE most metal thing he’s ever seen. After she finishes her number, his heart is effectively broken for her.

When Constance punches Ocean, Mischa doesn’t have the “FUCK YEAH” reaction that you’d expect. It’s actually met with some sadness. He’s always encouraging Constance to stick up for herself, and to not take Ocean’s shit. But, he respects that she has patience and kindness. When Constance punches Ocean, he almost sees it as a failure on his part.

The reason in my head why Mischa and Ocean feud so much is because they remind each other of one another’s parents. Ocean is the poster child of excellence in Uranium, Mischa’s adoptive parents have said more than once that they wish he could “be like that Ocean girl” - on the contrary, Ocean has caught Mischa smoking weed before. His incredibly radically liberal world view reminds her of her hippy parents. They get that anger out at them on each other. But at the end of the show, they both have a deeper respect for one another. Ocean for Mischa because she sees the real him, who is gentle & compassionate. Mischa for Ocean because she does the most selfless thing she could possibly do, which he respects infinitely.

I’m sure I have more but these are the HC’s that immediately came to mind. This is what makes Majestic Rep’s Mischa, Mischa.

[azsazz]

Come Again?

Ruhn Danaan x Reader

Summary: One-liner request from @writingsbychlo: “do you have any idea how to use that? do you even know what you’re holding?!”

Also for the anons who requested: "Omg please write more for Ruhn, our crescent city men are so underrated in this fandom! I love the crescent city modern world! I would love to see Ruhn using a toy on the reader maybe?? I don’t know if that’s in your comfort zone and if it isn’t I’m sorry but it’s been giving me brain rot 😭 I absolutely love your writing!" and "Ik you said you didn’t have anymore ideas for Ruhn, but…..Rhun with a vibrator that’s all I’m gonna say"

Warnings: Smut, vibrator

Word Count: 1,974

Notes: Fulfilling lots of requests with this one. 😉

_________________________________________

“Do you have any idea how to use that?” You tease, not at all embarrassed at the sight of your mate holding the toy you’d left out from last night.  “Do you even know what you’re holding?!”

Ruhn examines the pink bullet in his hands curiously. It’s almost a mocking manner, how he twists it left and right, like he’s trying dramatically to make sense of the toy to pull a smile from you. It’s not even as long as one of his fingers, he notes, mouth flattening sourly. It means to him that you don’t get off on how large he is, if something this small can make you cum just as well as he can. 

What’s stopping you from leaving him, if you’re satisfied with this? 

“You don’t need me anymore, I see,” he bares his teeth a little, jealous of the vibrator he’s holding in his hand. While it nowhere near compares to the cock that’s lengthening in his pants,  he pictures instead you using the toy on yourself. Ruhn wonders if the things the vibrator does draws the same noises you do for him. 

You roll your eyes in response, stretching your body long across your bed, reveling in the feeling of your mate’s eyes tracing the lines of your body. Ruhn tongues at his piercing in a way he knows drives you mad, but his gaze returns to the toy, narrow-eyed as if it might actually be the thing you’re replacing him with.

“Well,” you drawl, teasing a hand up your front. You want him to use it on you, set it to the fastest speed and press it against your clit while he impales you with his large cock. You shiver, tracing a nipple with a finger as you continue. “If you let me move in, I wouldn’t have to use that on nights I get lonely.”

Ruhn’s nostrils flare, pupils growing wide as you spread your legs for him, teasing him even more. Your pretty eyes flick to the vibrator in his hand and back to his, and you watch his face brighten, the curve of his lips into a mischievous smirk that spells out at least four orgasms as he fully understands what you’re needing from him and your little toy.

He flips the toy on and it reverberates loudly, sending shockwaves up his tattooed arms. He can understand why this would be pleasurable, especially if it has your legs falling open so easily, conditioned by the pink toy’s noises. Ruhn clutches the vibrator in hand, crawling up onto the bed between your legs. He looks like a predator, majestic muscles underneath his tight t-shirt rippling with every movement. 

“If I let you move in with me,” he murmurs against your skin, his words hot and breathy against your thighs as he removes your pants and underwear in one go. Your breath catches in your throat as he drags the pulsing toy across your hip bone and your fingers find his hair, tangling in inky locks to try and pull him closer to your cunt that’s pulsing with need. “I would never get anything done.”

“Yes,” you hiss as he nips at the soft skin of your navel, working higher and higher, dragging your shirt up with him as he goes. “Because smoking with Dec and Flynn takes up so much of your time.”

Ruhn chuckles, pressing his body flat against yours. You don’t know when he shed himself of his own shirt but you don’t care, reveling in the way that his chest vibrates against yours and his contained cock settles against your wet and needy cunt.

The texture of his jeans brushes your core and you arch into the bed with a depraved sort of noise. Gods, he’s mouthing across your neck, sucking harshly as punishment for your snarkiness. Oh, he’ll get you back for that one. The toy in his hand will make sure of that. It’s about to become his new best friend.

“We’re busy boys, Deer. Having you around will only distract them further,” he says against your mouth, stealing a kiss as he gently presses the vibrator to the pulse in your throat. They’re nearly beating the same rate and it makes you shudder and mewl, canting your hips for some of the glorious friction the roughness of his jeans cause. “And I don’t like to share.”

“Ruhn,” you gasp, fisting your fingers into the sheets. You can’t bear it, the feeling of him sucking marks into your neck, branding you with his lips. His piercing drags cold against your pert nipple as he makes his way downward, but he’s going much too slow, sliding the vibrator between your breasts in a hot line. 

Excitement stirs in your gut as you jerk faster against him. He’s trying to pin you to the bed with his hips but it only makes everything dig deliciously into you—

Your mate senses this, pulling away from you, ignoring your frustrated cry.

“Please,” you beg, eyes flying wide. You hadn’t realized that they’d fallen shut in utter bliss, working hard for the orgasm tingling between your legs. Your clit throbs at the sight of your shirtless mate kneeling above you. He looks like a God, staring down at you with dark eyes and a wicked grin.

“Are you talking to me, Deer,” he asks, holding up the buzzing pink toy, “Or this?”

You growl, exasperated. Surging, you press up on your hands, aiming to reach out and grab him by the loopholes of his pants. If he won’t give you what you want you’ll finish yourself, but the way he’s clutching onto your vibrator…is that what you look like when you’re using it as well? 

“Be nice, Ruhn,” you pout when he doesn’t budge. His blue eyes sparkle. Ruhn loves keeping you on edge. But using your toy against you is purely tortuous. 

He tuts, one hand moving to the button of his pants while the one holding your vibrator presses gently to your shoulder, a soft motion telling you he wants you to lie back.

“Okay, Deer. I’ll stop teasing.” You huff, glaring up at him. You’re trying to ignore the incessant buzzing by your ear but it’s calling to you, wanting you to shove Ruhn out of your room and use it because it would never tease you like that. “Do you want me?”

His tone turns utterly soft with his question. Insecure, almost. But your brows pull tightly together as you assess your mate and his unclear question. He could mean anything by that. Do you want me to go down on you? Yes. Do you want me to use the vibrator on you until your bed is soaked through with your pleasure? Yes. Do you want me to stuff you full of my cock until you milk me of my cum? Yes. 

Upon seeing your confusion, he clarifies. “Do you want me to stay?”

A part of you melts. Of course, you want him to stay. You want him to stay forever, tangled up in the sheet with you until the end of time, but it’s not possible. Your cunt still throbs for him, and right now, all you really want is to cum.

“Of course, I want you,” you reach out a gentle hand and he meets you halfway, intertwining your fingers. “I love you so much, Ruhn. More than I have ever loved anything,” you trail off, taking his other hand, the one that’s clutching the vibrator, urging him slowly to your awaiting cunt. Your voice shudders with pleasure as it touches your sensitive clit, and Ruhn swallows thickly. “But what I’d really love is to cum, by you. Now. Please.” You add, an afterthought, writhing on the bed for him.

Ruhn curses low, watching the way your body reacts to the toy in his hands. Your fingers slacken, then fall from his wrist completely, letting him take over. His eyes blaze when you whimper and cry out when he slides the vibrator through your folds. Fuck, you’re soaking wet, thighs glistening, his fingers drenched as he slips the toy into your cunt and his thumb brushes across your clit.

“I can do that,” he answers breathlessly. You moan his name sinfully in response, and it shoves him into action. His cock is achingly hard, trapped in the confines of his pants. It’s a struggle to get out of them, but he refuses to remove a hand from the toy shoved deeply into your snatch, all too caught up in your keening responses to the little thing. 

It’s awkward to try and kick out of his underwear while he still pleases you, but you don’t seem to mind the slight shifting and cursing going on because your eyes are rolled into the back of your head with pleasure, hands tweaking your nipples. “Ruhn,” you pant, “Get on me, please.”

He doesn’t hesitate and you moan lewdly as his hot body presses against yours again, drowning you with desperate kisses. You push against him just as fervently, hands eagerly roaming the plains of his muscles as he moves against you. The thickness of his cock slides against your soaking cunt and the vibrator that has your body shaking, but you want more. You want him.

As if he’s reading your mind, Ruhn removes the vibrator and presses into you in one fell swoop, forcing the air from your lungs as his long length meets your womb. He directs the vibrator up slightly, pounding into you as he holds it to your clit, swallowing down your loud cry. You press your breasts into his chest, and the scrape of your nipples against his pectorals is utterly delicious and your back bows for more.

It’s almost too much, the vibrator pressed to your clit as Ruhn works his cock into you with an eagerness you haven’t seen in a while. Neither of you had ever mentioned the possibility of using toys in bed and now you’re sure you’d be questioning yourself why if you weren’t on the edge of the most bone-shaking orgasm.

“Ruhn,” you cry, clawing at your mate. He grunts in response, jackknifing into you faster. The pulsing from your toy makes you shake, and he can feel the reverberations in his own cock. He’s drowning in pleasure, with how utterly soaking you are for him, the way you’re clinging to him and begging him to fuck you. The way your cunt clenches around his cock, coaxing his orgasm from him and your body drinking it greedily. There’s no way he would’ve lasted with you like this, but he wants to take you over and over again, all night with the way you scream his name, cresting over your own edge.

Your mate sees you through your orgasm, but the buzzing doesn’t let up, even when you begin to squirm and plead for him to stop. He’s buried deep into your core, loving every second of the way you convulse around him. Ruhn keeps his cum pressed in deep, and his teeth are sharp as they scrape against your collarbone, working his way up to your ear. You cling to him, rutting your hips like a goddamn whore, begging.

“Please,” your voice is weak, quivering, his broad shoulders lined with red marks as you cling to him.

“Shh, Deer, it’s alright. Just give me one more, baby. One more and I’ll turn the vibrator off,” he grins smugly down at you. Your hair is strewn about the pillows, forehead beading with sweat. Your eyes are shut tightly, mouth agape in a desperate gasp for air. What you don’t see is the glint in his gaze, the one that tells you he might be turning off the vibrator but it will in no way be your last orgasm of the night.

[elains]

Azriel's association with Enalius, what it means for his arc and Illyria

This is something me and my friends have talked about off tumblr, but I wanted to write my own post about it and gather my thoughts. But here, I'll discuss a bit Azriel's character and how the revelations we witness in House of Flame and Shadow will be important to his character. (+ a little bit of Emerie).

What do we know about Enalius? From ACOSF, Emerie provides us with a little exposition when they are in the Rite, when the Pass of Enalius is brought up:

Long ago—so long ago they don’t even have a precise date for it—a great war was fought between the Fae and the ancient beings who oppressed them. One of its key battles was here, in these mountains. Our forces were battered and outnumbered, and for some reason, the enemy was desperate to reach the stone at the top of Ramiel. We were never taught the reason why; I think it’s been forgotten. But a young Illyrian warrior named Enalius held the line against the enemy soldiers for days.

Now, from the Crescent City crossover, we learned that Truth-teller and Gwydion are twin blades. They are a pair. According to the Silene History Lesson, the dagger used to belong to her father's (Fionn's) dear friend, slain during the war. A bit later, when they find Vesperus, she confirms that this friend was Enalius:

The Asteri’s eyes flared with recognition at the long blade. “Did Fionn send you, then? To slay me in my sleep? Or was it that traitor Enalius? I see that you bear his dagger—as his emissary? Or his assassin?”

Immediately before that, she also confirms that the Asteri crafted (which can either mean created, shaped forged, but we are going with created) the Illyrians:

The Asteri’s blue eyes lowered to the dagger. “You dare draw a weapon before me? Against those who crafted you, soldier, from night and pain?”

From everything, we can conclude this: Enalius was the original wielder of Truth-teller before Fionn and Theia, a dear friend to Fionn, and someone who pulled the ultimate sacrifice to keep the Asteri/Daglan from reaching the top of Ramiel. He was a traitor to the Asteri, a rebel against his masters and everything they stood for.

Enalius is the hero most Illyrians strive to mimic, the legendary figure who they all hope to one day surpass. He's a symbol of their people, even if so much about him has been forgotten — the fact that he had a dagger, Fionn's friendship, what the battle was for, maybe even how he was as a person. Brave, for sure. Willing to die for the cause.

And it's Azriel who bears his dagger. Azriel, who has such a complicated relationship with his Illyrian heritage and loaths it - and by extension, himself - is the one with this enormous legacy right at this hand. And this matters.

Still in ACOSF, we have Rhys talking with Cassian and wanting him to play Courtier, the following exchange then follows:

“What, we’re doing some role reversal? Az gets to lead the Illyrians now?” “Don’t play stupid,” Rhys said coolly. Cassian rolled his eyes. But they both knew Azriel would sooner disband and destroy Illyria than help it. Convincing their brother that the Illyrians were a people worth saving was still a battle amongst the three of them.

Azriel hates the Illyrians for what happened to him and his mother and his dislike for them is, to a degree, understandable. The thing is that Azriel, no matter how much he loaths it, is Illyrian. Maybe he's more than that (as it's pointed that Az is different in a lot of ways and Bryce wonders if he is Starborn), but at heart, he's Illyrian. Siphons, leathers, fighting, being Carynthian, his wings, his scabbard and the dagger it holds.

It was healthy, perhaps, for Az to sometimes remember where he'd come from. He still wore the Illyrian leathers. Had not tried to get the tattoos removed. Some part of him was Illyrian still. Always would be. Even if he wished to forget it.

Being Illyrian is part of who he is and his deep hatred for them only fuel his self-loathing. He would like to set himself apart, but he is not.

We can actually draw a direct parallel between Azriel and Bryce with how they regard the Fae vs the Illyrians. Bryce loathes the Fae and for most of HoFaS, she believes they are evil, corrupt, power-hungry and quite generally, not worth saving. She would leave them all to burn. Sound familiar?

And Bryce is wrong. Sathia challenges her notion, pointing out that she's laying judgement to all fae and that is hardly fair. What the one who don't deserve it? Herself, yes, but Flynn, Declan, and Ruhn himself? Do they deserve to burn too? Bryce herself acknowledges this:

Urd had sent her there to see, even in the small fraction of their world that she’d witnessed, that Fae existed who were kind and brave. She might have had to betray Nesta and Azriel, trick them … but she knew that at their cores, they were good people. The Fae of Midgard were capable of more. Ruhn proved it. Flynn and Dec proved it. Even Sathia proved it, in the short time Bryce had known her.

And this part here sums up quite neatly:

Fire met starlight met shadows, and Bryce loosed herself on the world. It ended today. Here. Now. This had nothing to do with the Asteri, or Midgard. The Fae had festered under leaders like these males, but her people could be so much more.

There are Illyrians who are kind and brave and break the mold. We see this with Emerie, who is also a woman. We see that with Balthazar, Cassian. The main point stands, though, that you cannot judge or condemn an entire race for the bad apples.

Azriel is wrong, just as Bryce was wrong, and his journey will be also to realise that his people are worth saving. They were created of night and pain (words that Azriel embodies, being a master of shadows and a torturer), but that is not everything they need to be. They can be more than soldiers. They can thrive.

And I believe this was something Enalius himself came to the believe, long ago. His people deserved more than to be slaves to the Asteri, forced to give them their power when need be, bred to live and die for them. They could be more. And Enalius died to free his people from their chains.

Is Azriel Enalius's blooded descendant? I'm not sure, but he doesn't need to be. Azriel is Enalius successor because he will finish what was started. He'll uncover the secrets of the past, what his people were in truth, what Enalius rebelled for, what he stood for, what the Blood Rite truly means - which he only got a glimpse of.

And this is where I think Emerie will also come in. She's s one of ACOSF most relevant characters and the first female Illyrian to be Carynthian. I think Emerie will also become an inspirational figure to the Illyrian women, another of these what they coud be. What they can be. And more importantly and that is just a theory, what they were.

Orestes was a warrior. What if so was Carynth and she was woman? The name always struck me as similar to Carina, which is the name of a constellation and commonly used by women. It would be ironic and another shaking revelation to the Illyrians that Carynth, for whom their greatest warriors are named after, was a woman.

Does that mean all Illyrian women must become Valkyries? No, but some might wish to follow this path whilst their society takes its time to catch up. They already shook the status quo and with Nesta poised to have a big role (andthe Valkyries along her), they will continue to do so.

Azriel will uncovered the lost history of Vesperus offered him all the clues he needed to start looking. His journey to find out this secrets will lead to him facing his own demons, confronting his loathing for his people and, in doing so, he will make peace with himself.