#i didn't want HER i like the feeling because i WAS HIGH and HUMAN i didn't

[squishosaur]

hey man. i'm just saying. why would we put inexperienced teenagers with over-inflated egos and obvious emotional issues into combat classes and make them claw their way to the top of their dorms and expect things to just run smoothly. who actually thought this

[aparticularbandit]

....

Okay now I want to go through Tsumugi's discussions of cosplay because she's clearly talking about THIS.

The comment about always making cosplay costumes for people who don't actually appreciate the character but want to make it all about them. How she's always made costumes for people but she's not going to do it for those kinds of people anymore but only for people who sincerely love and want to be the character. How - after a long time - she's started wearing her own costumes because she loves those characters so much - especially so much more than those people.

Tsumugi. Tsumugi you're talking about writing for Danganronpa. Tsumugi you're poking at people who don't even realize what you're saying but were definitely people who were more about themselves than the character (except Shuichi, who came with his character idea intact). Tsumugi you're talking about making sure these people play the character and not using Danganronpa as a vehicle to make a season or a case all about them. Tsumugi you are talking about including these people in your stories as a gift and why you finally decided to join the story as a character yourself instead of sitting on the sidelines.

Tsumugi you aren't talking about cosplay YOU'RE META TALKING ABOUT DANGANRONPA.

EDIT: SHE'S ALSO PROBABLY TALKING ABOUT BEING THE MASTERMIND.

[lurking-latinist]

⛵

[apollo-zero-one]

I'm fine now dw

[danceandsing]

over a year later, staring blankly ahead. oh wow i CAN distinguish the difference between what was me just being high. i did not fucking want her. i did not fucking want it.

[hedgehog-moss]

I usually buy one stere of firewood per year, one and a half at most, but this year I saw an ad at the farm store promising a discount if you ordered 5 or 10 steres and I thought, well, I have a brand new wood shed, so let's go, five steres, why not!

Then a big truck came to my house and threw up this lava flow of wood in front of my shed and I realised that my mental representation of 5 steres, in terms of volume, was a bit off.

But that's okay! My friend D. was coming to visit. She's very convenient to have around in early autumn because she enjoys the real-life Tetris aspect of stacking wood—not only that, but she's uncannily talented at spotting blackberries, and September is blackberry season. (I do also invite her in other seasons so she doesn't feel exploited for her gifts.)

I was a bit concerned about the wood-stacking part of her visit though, partly because of the truckload of wood awaiting us and partly because this year's wood is completely shapeless and looks like whimsically sea-sculpted debris from an ancient shipwreck.

(On the left: the pretty logs that /I/ cut, which are shaped and easy to stack. On the right: the nonsensical wood that I bought.)

(My friend saw this and almost went on strike. She was like, "Not a single log has a shape that makes sense with the others... it sucks. That's not Tetris 😠") (Me: "Think of it as having reached a higher, more challenging level of Tetris." Her: "😠")

On top of that, because of the cold and rainy summer we've had, blackberries were very scarce this year, like everything else. Brambles are so ubiquitous in my woods I used to think I would always get more blackberries than I know what to do with, but last month I actually had to go look for them which I'm not used to doing. Every fence is usually covered with blackberries in September, and in some parts of the woods there are hazel trees taken over by brambles so that blackberries are dangling in front of your face temptingly and you don't even need to bend down to pick them. But not this year.

I feared this visit would be quite disappointing for D. if the wood stacking and the berry picking were less fun than usual—but the fact that blackberries were much harder to find than the previous years made her amazing berry-dar all the more necessary and appreciated, and she enjoyed our blackberry hunt. We'd get lost in mazes of giant broom bushes and I'd be like, let's go somewhere else there are no blackberries to be found here, and she'd stop dead and go, "Here!" And here they were!

I don't know how she does it.

One fun thing that happened is that at one point, while D. was somehow finding kilos of blackberries in a field I'd already searched two days before and which had seemed empty of berries, I wandered away into the forest to photograph some pretty mushrooms. Then I heard a strange bird call which, when I looked up and paid more attention to it, sounded more like my friend calling my name from afar. I figured I was being called out for getting distracted from the berry harvest, so I returned to the field. She was crouching down at the other end of the field with her back turned on me and didn't look like she'd just called me.

Half an hour later, when it was getting dark and we were about to go home, she told me, "Hey, did you have something to show me earlier? When you were in the woods." Me: "No, why?" Her: "You called my name."

...

Me: "I didn't call your name. You called MY name." On second thought, she said that it sounded quite shaky and high-pitched, not like my voice, more birdlike. Me: "I initially thought it was a bird too!" Problem: our names sound nothing alike.

We stood there mystified for a minute, wondering if there could be a bird capable of articulating both of our names, or if it was some other animal or thing that somehow knows our names. (We were quite sure there were no humans in the area, because Pandolf is very good at sensing nearby people and always wants to go say hi to them.)

We looked at the woods, then at my car parked nearby, then went, "Okay! Time to go home and never investigate this further 😊"

My friends are a good influence on me—there were people a bit concerned about my sanity in the notes of that post where I talked about going out into the woods at night because something was screaming, and I think they'll be happy with the moral of this story! We went home and sat by the fire eating blackberry tart and talked about what a great decision it was, all things considered, to not try to figure out what sort of creature wanted us to wander deeper into the forest at dusk. The end.

[itsonlydana]

Hey hey, saw ur requests were open for Thranduil and knew I needed to submit something!

Could you do a Thranduil x fem human reader where she braids her hair without knowing the significance for elves? They both have feelings for each other but neither has said anything, supper fluffy ending y’know?

Thank you in advance and have a great day!! :))

Beautiful misunderstandings | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem human!reader 👑

You simply wanted to accept an invitation to a celebration, but something about you makes the elves literally drop at your feet. Can Thranduil resolve this misunderstanding, or will he be affected as well?

tags/warnings: just lots and lots of fluff, no warnings

word count: 3,6k

an: to be honest, most of what i wrote is my own headcanons because i did not find lots about hair culture with the elves.. so please: educate me! Are there some hcs in the fandom? :)

+ masterlist + rules + 🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

The forests of Greenwood greet you with open flames of torches licking up their hot tongues against the dark skies, coloring the path the horse trots along in their amber lights and the wooden smoke that fills the air. Evenly distributed along the pathway they light up just enough of Greenwood that it doesn't take away from the sight that awaits you at the end, where the trees give way to an equally decorated bridge and the foliage thins out enough for you to take in the tall arches framing the open doors of the Great Elvenking's halls.

You have already been a guest for many of Thranduil's festivities ever since he established trading relations with your small fisher town. Due to the bond that twirls around the two of you in some unfathomable and complex manner, you also know that nothing he ever does is anything but grande and imposing. 

Still, you can't help but push your lower lip in between your teeth. 

Not once have you gotten the impression of standing out more than the difference in race and status already marked as obvious factors, neither Thranduil nor his elves treated you like you felt right now: 

Completely out of your known waters.

The elvish customs were far too many for you to know them all and you always try your best to consider all and everything that you've learned in the two summers you could consider yourself an acquaintance to Thranduil. Whatever form this acquaintanceship took on is another worry, or rather, another unknown that you can't exactly express to anyone. 

It's nearly as confusing as the steps of the dance you studied in your room before you left this morning, a step forward and two back, Thranduil asking you to accompany him to his dances but never dancing with you. 

Tonight, you want to change this predicament of always ending up in the arms of another elf while the one you yearned for watches from the sidelines! You didn't work this hard for the fabric that hugs your figure in a beautiful dress for nothing and even if the fabric isn't as shiny or light as the dresses the elves wear and the stitches marked your fingertips with the evidence of the labor and long nights, you are proud of the garment. 

The wind plays in the hem as you emerge from the guarded forest and its thick and dense foliage and it winds itself around your legs after you dismount your horse. A quick kiss to his muzzle, followed by an exhale of warm, familiar breath and you hesitantly let a servant take him away, mumbling a soft "Thank you" while you stay where you are and watch until they disappear around a tree.

Nervously you start walking up to the bridge, the reckless water under it crashing against the stone walls and it goes along with the blood that pumps high and fast through your body and rushes in your ears. The atmosphere is loaded, sizzling under the nearly suffocating heat that's only bearable in the cool shadows of the palace in front of you so you don't waste another second. 

You brush off the hood of your riding coat, smoothing out some fly-away hairs that escaped the braid you carefully weaved earlier this day as you duck your head in reverence to be allowed in these sacred halls. 

Whispers catch up to you from outside, a breeze dancing through leaves.

When you lift your chin again, you find that it's not the air affecting nature but rather your presence halting nearly all the elves that gathered on the first bridge inside the caves. 

They say elves are graceful and purposeful in their movements – the way dozens of eyes are locked onto you and lips move in not-so-silent murmurs defiles that claim though.

It's nothing you haven't encountered before, the talks behind your back that came along with Thranduil's attention shining down on you like the sun – hot, engulfing you completely and rendering you breathless as well as a bit sweaty at times whenever he looks at you, and you learned how to handle it. His attention brought forth a lot of awareness of his folk to the woman who visits Thranduil just as often as he rides into your town and becomes the topic of conversations for weeks. What's a girl to do except accept that a King never comes alone?

You're used to elves watching you, most of them in respect. Thranduil's authority radiates onto you, as well as the protection that he swore would lay upon you as long as he's there to give out orders.

The first elf whose eyes you questioningly meet drops to his knees in the same instant, barely a breath of time passing by. 

A gasp leaves your throat.

Words do not follow. They remain echoing in your head, pushed back by the spectacle that spread before you like wildfire. Too fast, too much.

Within seconds of you entering, the buzz of lowered voices dies down as elf after elf either bows or completely meets the ground they are standing on. The spectacle is confusing and throws you completely off; this reaction is nowhere near what you've experienced before and you do the first thing that comes to mind to handle this totally unsuspected confrontation of elves bowing to you, a human from no known family and nothing to your name other than the weight it carries on Thranduil's tongue.

The only thing you manage to stammer is: "Good evening," and a high-pitched, "Thank you?" before you take your legs into your hand and dash over the bridge. 

Thoughts as unstoppable as you run through your mind while you navigate the curving halls of the underground palace, the stonewalls not cool enough to diminish the heat that sits low in your neck, growing the longer you think about all that has happened between Thranduil and you and how it's not much more than nothing but a close alliance of human and elf. 

One that you hope would take on a different turn, because some of the actions by Thranduil could be considered friendlier than one would treat an ally or friend. You think back to all the gifts you have received, the white gems for example that, barely bigger than your nails but woven into the upper part of your braid, reflect the light and throw silver dots against the walls that lead you to the point Thranduil had asked you to meet him in one of his many letters. 

The route involves more encounters with more elves, some bow more subtly, their hands on their chest in a greeting that you do know, and some others, mostly those who've already fallen in barrels of wine and are less sophisticated in their movements in their drunken state who repeat the word "bereth" as if it's a prayer in a language that's far beyond you to make out right now. 

At the end of the hallway, you make out the back of a familiar blonde and even from afar you notice the resemblance that Thranduil's silver circlet has to the silver ribbon you have woven into your hair in a similar way and height how his circlet would look placed on your head. 

Is this what brought such uproar to the elves? Have you accidentally copied their king? 

"Thranduil!" you call out, his name lacking any title though not out of disrespect. You have the highest respect for the King of the Elves and slip a "Your Majesty" rather often into conversations because you know how much he favors his name from your tongue and teasing him like that brings a joy to you that you can't explain anyway else then: 

Hearing him laugh and smile or roll his eyes at your antics fuels the love you harbor for him.

Now is not the time for teasing chit-chat, you are desperate to find out if you have actually misstepped by presenting his gifts like this at a festival that's solely about him.

He turns at the sound of your voice and, oh lord, even his eyes widen as soon as they land on you and you want to perish rather than step any closer but the hurry in your legs and the nervousness in your stomach makes it impossible to do anything else but run to the one soul in this world that brings you comfort. 

You arrive at a full stop, and your heels would have stirred up dust if you were a mare. 

Now it's not only Thranduil's eyes that seem to have developed an inability to stray farther than your head; his mouth falls open as well and he makes no effort to close it again. The fact that this behavior is completely ungracious and ill-mannered has apparently not dawned on him yet. The longer you spend helplessly looking up at him, you swear you can see most of his thoughts visibly inching away behind that baffled expression.

At first, there's nothing.

Then some clarity returns into the blue eyes you love so much and Thranduil exhales a quiet: "Berio nin." 

Now, that's Sindarin you've heard before – that the context he has said these words were moments when he playfully begged the Valar to aid him with you tormented him in some way throws you off your balance even more and you take a step back. 

"I did not–" you start and raise a hand to wave it at all of you, "This, I had no idea. Did I offend you? Or the elves?" 

"Offend?" Thranduil asks bewildered.

"Well, the way they reacted. I wasn't sure," you laugh distraught. Thranduil's eyebrows instantly furrow, and you're quick to follow up: "Not in a bad way!" you explain and he loosens up, "They, um, they bowed? And some may have fallen to the ground?"

"Ah," he chuckles and his reaction calms you a bit. He could've been screaming or throwing you out. If he's laughing this can't be that big of a serious misstep. Thranduil looks at you through lowered lashes and runs his tongue over his teeth, a smile threatening to break through the serious expression he tries to obtain. "I believe a conversation and education is in order. If you would follow me to have this conversation somewhere else," he says and holds out his arm for you to grab.

He leads you around a corner and another one, walking swiftly yet seemingly in no hurry until Thranduil opens a door and quickly pulls you inside the room. 

Candles littered all around light up what you immediately understand to be his private chambers, the many robes you recognize, the colorful falcons with shimmering scented oils and shells full of jewelry, pearls, gems, and rings in gold and silver. There, right where Thranduil stops in front of you to block out your view, you take a peek at a giant bed behind flowy white curtains. 

You blush.

Even more so when you see Thranduil blush as well. His eyes return to your hair again, just like he had on the short walk to these chambers; tilting his head down to you as if some magical force bound him to staring at you in a manner he hadn't done before.

"You are my guest so I see it to be my responsibility to clear up what may have been a–" he pauses and his eyelashes flutter as he thinks of a fitting word, "a misapprehension. Not that you could have possibly known the outcome of what you doubtlessly suspected to be a kind gesture." 

You nervously cross your arms behind your back, intertwining your fingers so you do not meddle or ruffle the carefully layered fabrics of your dress. "I solemnly swear I was not up for any mockery."

His eyes widen again. "I would not have accused you of such!"

You tilt your head in confusion and bite down on your lip, ungraceful as well and a habit you should definitely quit, especially in the company of a King.

"What was it that startled the elves?" You think back to the way Thranduil had reacted, the wide-blown eyes, the pink lips formed to a delicate 'o' – "As well as you, Thranduil. You couldn't even get a word out except for a prayer." You let out a single laugh to cover up your embarrassment. 

The elf lifts his chin higher as if that could prevent you from noticing the blush deepening, growing much more red than just a delicate pink that stands out from his ivory skin but not much that it couldn't be interpreted as a light intoxication of either wine or fresh air. 

"I do not remember that," he lies with a dismissive voice. "Anyway, let me clarify the current dilemma instead of wasting time discussing the past." 

"Definitely not that far back that you could count it as 'the past' but sure," you sigh and decide to ignore the glare he sends you as you confront his very unsubtle passive- aggressive change of topic from him to you. Thranduil had centuries of building up a thickheadedness to lead the Woodland Realm and you had mere months on your hands in trying to push a way through it.

"Well, the behavior my folk portrayed was simply said the respect they pay for any honorable and eminent," Thranduil says, not batting an eye over the unbelievable words that come out of his mouth.

"What?" Your voice is nothing but a high squeal, "Why would they do that? They know I'm just a human!"

Thranduil scoffs, "Just a human, she says. Do not dismiss yourself in any way and most definitely not as just a human. Humans are such fascinating creatures, all those feelings compressed into an ephemeral life and bodies that endure pain and even if you waste away to dust you try to mark down your existence into every stone that you touch." Before you can burst into tears at his rather sentimental and emotional view of your people, he continues in a tone more factual: "To answer your question– you conveyed that I was courting you and they simply knew there would be grave consequences if they did not respect my intended." 

All the air left your body in a singular exhale, thus leaving you to grasp at the few thoughts that stayed through the cut-off of oxygen. Not that they were any good.

Courting you? Being his intended? 

You can only stare at him aghast. 

"But– courting? You weren't, we weren't– there was no courting!" you stammer.

The world is reeling. 

Black spots dance in the corner of your sight.

It takes all your focus to stand still and not sway back and forth, giving in to the abrupt slide downward reality has suddenly become. 

"No," Thranduil says.

A part of you withers at the finality of the statement because of course, he, Great Elvenking Thranduil, would never be caught courting a human. The absurdity of it must be why he was laughing earlier, praying to the Valar to become a witness of what must be your greatest humiliation.

"No, there was. I was simply waiting for your realization as well as acceptance to officially proclaim it."

Now it's your mouth that falls open without any strength left to prevent it.

Thranduil swallows, hard, his jaw set tightly and his eyes fixating on you. "All that I did, and thought to do, was in prospect of taking you as my betrothed," he states; the smallest of quivers underlining the massive impact this admission causes to him. He lifts one hand to his chest, pressing his knuckles against the fabric where underneath his heart lays. "I ache to love, treasure, and worship you. Every second of all the days I may have the pleasure of your company in my life or it shall be colorless from now on."

His eyes glitter, the endless blues of the sky, affection burning in them like the sun, broadening your horizon of what you believed love to be and there is no doubt in your mind that Thranduil's words are nothing but the truth. Confounding as that truth should be, it is that – certainty.

A smile breaks on your face, watery and wet as tears of pure happiness spill onto your cheeks and even if your heart has been on the tip of your tongue at every word you have ever said to him and in every glance that you have ever directed in his way, the need to validate his revelation.

You step carefully step closer and the hem of your dress brushes against his gowns as you close the bit of distance. Thranduil watches cautiously, leaving his hand against his heart, and only tips his chin down to follow you until you step into his personal space. The whole regal and stoic image he portrays even after confessing his love passionately mere seconds ago breaks as you feel his wavering breath and you swear you can hear the loud pounding of his battered-yet-strong heart. 

"Is it my hair?" you ask quietly and catch him off-guard. 

Thranduil smiles and his chest heaves in a deep inhale of air. "Yes," he laughs in an exhale, "Do you wish to know how you managed to completely dismantle me? Rob me of all powers?" 

You nod once and one hand of his comes to rest on your shoulder from where he leads you to a silver basin standing in a corner decorated with more oils and vines climbing the stone walls.

The sight that the clear water inside it shows you, Thranduil standing behind you, more than slightly taller, brings a warmness to your cheeks. Even if the prospect of his image finding a constant in your life from now on is undeniable, you're not sure if you will ever get satiated by it. 

Thranduil slowly reaches the elaborate braid you are so proud of despite the public tumult it had caused. "There are many things sacred to my folk and hair –" he starts and lets his fingers travel the length of free-falling hair, "holds the memories of our history, our connection to the Eldar and kemen – the earth. We do not cut it but rather let it grow to pay our respects to Eru for his creation, the natural and untouched world, flows in us all. It bears the marks of our ancestry though many cultures convey their personal history in many different ways." 

You listen intently, trying not to get distracted by Thranduil's hands smoothing your hair and the deep rumble of his voice wrapping around his language that pulls you into a trance. 

"Among us Sindar, we wave our customs into the very strands of this sacred hair. Our warriors, for instance, adorn themselves with tightly woven braids, serving not only as protection in battle but as a testament to their strength and unwavering discipline."

"The intricate and jeweled braids you wear," Thranduil's fingers glide along the white gems, thus nudging them against your head, "they speak volumes of noble heritage and high standing. Even if you do not have royal blood in your family, a braid like this will be more convincing to the contrary."

You blush as you realize how you unknowingly changed your entire status.

"By adorning your hair with the jewels I bestowed upon you, you declare to all my claim upon you," Thranduil chuckles and meets your eyes in the water, "Braids are the essence of our heritage, denoting rank and occupation, and they speak volumes in courtship."

"Oh," you say, "I knew Elves court through gifts. Would I have known this…"

Thranduil shakes his head, smiling widely as he continues playing with your hair, "You say that but not once have you realized all that I have given to you were of my pursuit."

"Well, I– this wasn't… I thought you were being nice," you sputter and grow even redder in the face.

"Unbelievably rude and ungracious to consider me ni–" he interrupts himself and shivers, "No I will not speak in such obscene language." Thranduil raises an eyebrow before returning his attention to the lesson in courting, "Through these intricate weavings, we convey our intentions and the profound depth of our bonds. While dalliances are not uncommon, my folk only marry once in their life."

"Love is eternal and unwavering, and each twist in our braids declares the union of our souls. By weaving your hopes and pleas for reciprocation into your hair, you speak a silent yet powerful language. The braid you chose, resembling my crown and adorned with my jewels and a silver ribbon akin to my own hair, could not have delivered a clearer message."

"So I basically lied to your elves," you pull a face in shame, "Great."

"You may call it a lie," Thranduil says slowly and his hands travel to rest on your shoulders. You lean into the gentle pull and let him turn you around so that you are face-to-face again. There is a dedication in his eyes, a look of hunger and yearning, "Or," his voice sounds even deeper and reverberates through your entire body, zipping up your spine that you automatically straighten, "You allow me to present our courtship openly if a deeper connection is what you desire to form between us."

Your heart thumps in your chest, double the tempo that one would call normal and it only speeds up when Thranduil cups your face in his hand and his fingertips graze the silver ribbon that sits tightly against your head.

"Allow me," he repeats, quieter. 

"Your word and the world will know you are mine," he pleads.

You waste not a second to ponder over what your heart already decided. "I allow it."

©itsonlydana 2024, character art by MiracleAna on Devianart

[beloved-calypso]

・ ° ʚɞ ゜𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 ~ ♡ ・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ゜‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

♡𝒮𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝒽𝑒𝓈 𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒶𝓁𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒸𝓊𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝑒𝓀𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝓁𝑜𝓌𝓁𝓎 𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃, 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓉𝓇𝑒 𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃. 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝓇𝒾𝒸𝓀. 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓈𝓊𝓅𝓅𝑜𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝓇𝑜𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓅𝒶𝓌𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝒾𝓇.” – 𝑅𝒶𝓎𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓇♡

All pictures and gifs are not mine but belong to their original artists. ♡

I. -> II. -> III. -> IIII.

[Note: Hello, everyone! If you didn't guess it, this pac is about how you are viewed by your past, present, and future lovers. This pick a card was originally about 'how' you are as a lover but turned out to be about girl power theme so I went with the flow ~ I have another pick a card coming out soon this week so stay tuned!

Edit 8/18: People of pile 4 please check over your reading again. I added some stuff. Also pile 3 although it wasn't significant. I couldn't help but to keep editing mistakes here and there so apologies if you keep getting notifications of changes for this post 😂.]

~ XOXO 💋🎀

౿૮꒰ྀི The Lyre ๑◞꒱ა

[The Moon, 3 of Cups, The Star]

You are a mystical and overwhelming lover pile 1 😘. You feed people the energy and will they need to feel alive. You're like an aphrodisiac and your lovers like to get high purely off of you. You make people feel like they NEED you. CRAVE you. It's almost like your partner's ache to breathe the air you do, envelope themselves around you, and stay around you all the time because they want to make sure you weren't a figment of their imagination. Some people have thought you walked straight out of their daydreams. They are addicted to your energy and presence and desire so much from you. Don't think of it as people stealing your energy though; your feeding off of theirs too. This is a proverbial yin and yang, a give and take with you holding the scales of power like the effigy of Lady Justice. You're consuming at the same time you're giving. It could claim to be vampiric, but it comes off as dreamy and mysterious. You're moreso like a fairy or sprite enticing someone to follow them in the woods with a beckoning finger and a mischievous smile. Fairy's in early storybooks are mostly tricksters and little devils, but they are so beautiful and enchanting at the same time. There's a reason they cannot escape the human consciousness. You give off the air of springtime, of misty nights at waterfalls and flower strewn glens dappled with dawning sunlight. 🌸

You're a comfort as well as seductress, playing the Madonna when you need to set a lure and revealing the whore once you've sinked your claws into your prey. You're wholesome yet strange, animated yet withdrawn, spontaneous yet quite, the constant swing of a pendulum that pushes and pulls, push and pull, push and pull. You're the exact type who can have anyone and everyone wrapped around their fingers. When you're outside you're a nymph in her natural habitat. When you're indoors you're an enchantress in her home brewing potions and scribbling spells. Both paint a pretty and sensuous picture. You can play the whimsical and silly girl, but you're anything but dumb. While sniffing at that flower you picked up in the meadows you're locked onto your target with discerning eyes, sizing them up like a hawk ready to pluck a mouse from the fields. You're someone who can lure in their target with an innocent face and a flower crown on their hair, speaking honeyed words with opened palms, and when your lover finally settles down next to you, you can embrace and look down upon them with a loving gaze all the while knowing they are hopelessly trapped by you, and they couldn't be more unaware of it. You give them the notion of having power over you, a false sense of comfort you can utilize to take everything you want from of them. It's a perfectly painless process and that's why it works. This is a siren evolved out of water, a woman with the crime of passion trailing behind her like a cape and the undeceptive eyes of a doe. It's giving me Persephone and Hades, a gentle and lively woman able to tame even the darkest and stony of hearts, meaning you can seduce just about anyone!

You're a lover that is exciting and addicting to be around, a drug without the side effects. I think you can be the caring mother men need to be vulnerable, and when they need the heat to turn up, out comes the sultry woman of their dreams. I feel you could be into baking, maybe catering for home events and shoving food in people's mouths as a sign of love (it's also a tactic predators use in the wild to make their target immobilized). I think you like to do anything that relaxes and distresses you, keep in the quiet and just let your mind go into the silence. You are wonderfully sublime, an aromatic mix of shadow and light. You look like you stepped out of a Renaissance painting. I think you like creature comforts, the feel of a soft leathery couch and the low noise of a tv. Other days it's the grass at your back and the wind sweeping over your body that delights you. There's a number of things you want to try and have already done that feeds your spirit of whimsiness. Keep being silly and adventurous. Don't stumble trying to appear as someone you're not. You're open and free and that's what's so enticing about you. It doesn't ward people off as much as you think, rather it just intimidates people that don't have the same confidence as you do to exercise their self-expression. Many people struggle with their identity but you embrace it and the changes that life brings and so you're actually above those that you think you're beneath. You're constantly evolving and constantly at the whim of fate. I would say you're a breath of fresh air to anyone you meet. Never deny your power. This piles energy is very airy, light, and aligned with the sense of smell, which can be just as seductive as touch. Follow the direction of the wind and you'll always be on course for everything you desire. You're meant to wander and ponder. Don't think you're not meeting goal-posts as fast as everyone else. You're just enjoying what lies along the journey rather then the end, and that's a beautiful thing more fulfilling than crossing the finish line. ~

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

౿૮꒰ྀི The Tiger ๑◞꒱ა

[Ace of Cups, 6 of Swords, Wheel of Fortune]

Hello pile 2, aren't you the busy body. You are so energetic and strong. You have the strength and will of a lioness, a woman mature, self-sufficient, and unstoppable. I see you working yourself to the bone trying to keep a whole house together and not breaking a sweat while doing so. I doubt many work as hard as you do. They may not even measure to your strength of will. I'm getting a vision of Princess Tiana from Princess and the Frog, a Capricorn who was intelligent, diligent, and fearless. You are just like her I'm hearing. You're the glue that holds things together, that makes something new out of two separate things, the source of support that keeps someone afloat and moving. Without you your lovers would sink into the mires of lament and stupidity.

You're a trophy wife that doesn't just sit in the house all day but keeps upgrading the house, from a one-story, to a manor, to a whole estate. You're lovers are forced to match your speed and make something of themselves. You envigorate them with the promises of success. You're like a lucky lady in poker; your lovers can't win without you. You're their real success, the one trophy in their case made out of real gold. They grow with you, build a life with you, take their crudy dreams and turn it into a reality. You have the golden Midas touch. ✨ You're like magic, a Djinn that grants wishes and turns dreams to truth. Sure, in the real world these things take time and work, but they happen. Anything and everything can happen for you, and in extension, to your lovers. Your lovers need you in order to survive, to reach their goals and dreams and feel on top of the world. You're like the blood rushing through their veins in adrenaline on a morning run, the caffeine in their coffee, the motor of their car that never fails, and the bed they come home to and sink in. These things seems mundane but they are all a necessity of life. They signify movement, comfort, and stability. Excitement is fun every now and then but in real life it's not an everyday thing nor is it practical. You're a reminder of what's real and of what reward is past the finish line. You're the mast on a ship, the strings that hold everything together. You have the backbone of metal but you still hold the delicacy of something precious and nurturing. You have a very motherly aura. I feel you can't help but to take care of people. It's in your nature to help and nurture things into growing. You're a catalyst for change, sometimes the broom that swats someone's hiny into action. I see you guzzling coffee and turning into a tornado of movement. I'm also seeing big cats in the wild. Jaguars, panthers, leopards, and tigers, all fierce and spirited animals reflective of the ferocity of women and the power we all hold within. You know, lionesses and other female big cats do most of the work in keeping their species alive. They're protectors, hunters, warriors, and mothers. They do more than their mates and they do it all looking exquisite and beautiful. Everything about them is ingrained into you. Believe that.

Your strength is unparalleled and there's something that's so wild about you, something begging to be free, a intensity and ferociousness that can knock any man down and force them underneath you. I'm seeing leopard prints, blood, and fangs. You need to let that animal in you out every once in a while, take her out for a walk on the town and dom that red lipstick and little black dress you were saving for a special occasion. She's what's been clawing your insides and she will not rest until you let her breathe. I wouldn't be surprised if your partners like riling you up. Your anger is absolutely sexy. When tempers fly they feel a primal rush going on, a need to let your animals meet *wink, wink*. I feel you display both civility and the inner animal brain all of us humans have. It's astonishing how much we suppress ourselves and call our primal natures uncivilized and obsolete. They are not something to do away with, and anyone that says otherwise is lying to themselves. Suppressing our animal instincts teaches suppression and breeds inner deviancy. Releasing our instincts allows our bodies to give you their full capabilities. That's what your lovers see in you: a powerful woman that doesn't lie to herself and embraces her very nature and channels it into creation. That's why you succeed in everything. You're not afraid to get messy and tear a few muscles. You're a wild cat in heels welding a knife with a little blood on her apron. You're a little crazy but that's what makes people equally wild about you. It's sometimes better to be feared than loved, but in your case the things go hand in hand. Fear releases adrenaline and sometimes triggers the horny parts of our brains. Men are scared of you and piss their pants a little, but they kind of like it. Just know that it's ok to be vulnerable and soft once in a while. Just like Tiana, you will have to learn to relax and know it's ok to have days where you do nothing. You're not an incomplete person, and you are far from undesirable, but you're busy-bee nature makes your lovers want to take you by the shoulders and hog-tie you down to a chair. Deep down beneath that impenetrable armor is a woman desiring tenderness and affection, and you need to water her regularly to keep her from wilting. It's not a show of weakness to be vulnerable. I received another perfect metaphor for you, a diamond, strong and beautiful and the King of gems. Remember how diamonds are made; they come from the common material of carbon undergoing extreme pressures and heat to become something priceless and wanted by all. Perfectly descriptive of you. Remember that you are a diamond among gemstones, rare and desirable above all else. ~

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

౿૮꒰ྀི The Shells and the Vase ๑◞꒱ა

[Ace of Swords, King of Swords, 7 of Pentacles]

With you pile 3, it's do or die. You don't wait for no one nor are you adept at wasting your time with just anyone. You carry yourself as a woman with high value and as though you have a lot to offer, which you most definitely do. You're sexy, but there's also something inside you that adds to this appeal; your intelligence. Your appearance is beautiful too, but we will get into that later. You're sharp witted and unbelievably smart. Your highly praised for your genius and some can see that that is what gives you your unshakeable confidence. I feel you know the nature of people very well and you could be a fantastic conversationalist. People would pay to hear you talk for hours on hours. It's the way you talk, the way your tongue rolls and twitches between your lips that keeps them hanging onto every word you utter. Even the sounds you make are lip-bitingly arousing. Your lovers love the talks you have and they feel they can tell you everything and anything, but they'd rather just cuddle and hear you speak. There's never a dull moment with you and you open their eyes to the Universe. You're a point of discovery and through you people gain invaluable information. You're brilliant, knowledgeable and a master of words, but you're very selective with who you speak too. Not everyone is deserving of your words and sometimes people are so easy you can't help but to play a few mind games with them just to ease the edge of boredom you feel around normies. You may have an intriguing accent, even if it sounds normal to you, there's something about it so refined and soothing. Any of you bilinguals by chance? There's a neat little library in your head full of information that you can pull out when the time is perfect. You know when to turn on the crowd-pleaser and the show-stopper and even the dim-wit when you feel like effing with people. You're immune to caring what others think of you (a superpower if you ask me) and when you're slighted you may think it's funny. A good verbal joust is healthy from time to time, and a fight with words is much more interesting than with fists. I sense a little mean streak within this pile hehehe. Intelligence is so sensual. Ever heard of the phrase intelligence is the ultimate aphrodisiac? It truly is. You have the key to unlock peoples minds and you can do with them as you wish. Physical attraction is great and all but it's temporary and prone to fizzling. Even the most beautiful woman in the world get cheated on and tossed away. It's inward attraction thats the most important.

Once you've grabbed someone's attention then they've figured you must be different from all the ones they've met before and this establishes a want and need to know this person in and out, what makes them tick and chirp all nice and pretty. You know how to keep your lover on you. It's your sexy little mind that has the breath taken out of them. It's a surprising but welcome thing. You're like a present under a Christmas tree, the gift you didn't expect but came out to be better than the one you wanted. No one can one up you and your a bloodhound when it comes to figuring out people. A detective in the streets and a Playboy bunny in the sheets, I heard. You're like a knife that scrapes against skin oh-so deliciously, a selective taste but one you never go back from after savoring. People are a little afraid of you. Your words can cut like you have a tongue with barbed wire at the end of it. It's almost masochistic the way some men try to square up against you. They fall like a tree and you get to bask in the victory without so much as a wood chip clinging on to your dress. Lovers have to chase after you to get piece of you. You're a rich and exquisite prize to many. There's something about you that conjures images of class and poshness. You give me rich girl vibes. It's the way you carry yourself. You're so sure and confident it scares people sometimes. Even if you aren't rich, you look it. You treat yourself like an exclusive, like a corner of a club that won't let just anyone hang there until they've undergone an extensive background check and pass an itemized list. You're beautiful and you act like it. You're like a model walking in the streets of New York with her legs exposed, marching like she's on a mission. Everyone around her can't help but to stop and stare and feel wistful of what they can't have. You're enchanting, intensely desirable, the fruit that Tantalus desires and futilely reaches for every time the branch comes close to his mouth. It's part of a game you play with them. I can see that you laugh at them and their hound dog ways. It pumps your ego and keeps you feeling high. I can see you're the same way in your relationships. You never overvalue a lover over yourself, and you don't change yourself for them either. You're independent and require for your persons to be the same way, or else they get cut quick and loose. It's not that people think you're hard to pin down, but they feel you are so effervescent, easy to lose. Your partners think you're sensational, a whirlwind of passion wrapped up in a ribbon of classiness, similar to the feelings evoked when lapping at champagne, swimming in an infinity pool on top of a sky-rise, or sinking into the buttery leathers of a luxury sofa with a fireplace at your feet.

You feel naughty too, like eating bon bons on a cheat day. Your free spirited and live life so fast it's like men need to chase you with their cars. I can see you have a streak for danger, a love to live life on the edge. Die hard and die fast, but with no regrets. I think you're kooky too, so extra and out there, the type to walk ontop of the raised edges of sidewalks, skinny dip into a strangers pool, and dance on Street lamps like they are a strippers pole, haha. You live life in the moment. You're dangerous yet sophisticated, the type that likes to watch plays and carry theatrical masks 🎭 to be funny, one happy and the other one devilish (not sad). I feel you're insatiable for what the world has to offer. You feel the depth and width of the planet and wish it was yours. You want to learn everything there is to know, experience everything there is to feel, record the world through all of your five senses. You're worldly, a person of many dreams in one. Your lovers feel like they have to walk a tight rope with you, risk hovering over a den of tigers to get to you, but it's all worth it with you on the other side, otherwise they wouldn't be doing it. You give them a rush of youth and adrenaline they can't get from ordinary life. You're not peace, your chaos, and so unique and individual that within you lays a multiverse of once in a lifetime experiences. Keep being unapologetically you. ~

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

౿૮꒰ྀི The Woman and the Beasts ๑◞꒱ა

[The Fool, Strength, 6 of Cups]

My, my so much yellow came out of this pile. Welcome my little balls of sunshines! You all are as cute as cute can be and absolute cinnamon rolls. At least on first meetings that is. This pile is full of high spirited energy! I feel you glowing with vitality. You seem young and have a childish streak about you, one that propels you high up in the sky on the wings of positive vibrations. Your lovers are addicted to these vibrations. You live in a little bubble of joy and positivity and I have to say I wish I could look at the world this way. Nothing really gets you down, and if it does your quick to pick yourself back up. I feel this is my pile of nature lovers, woman connected to the earth and in high spirits because of it. You like to follow the ebb and flow of life, ride the wavelength so to speak. You may feel out of control over your own destiny, but in a freeing way, like your life is truly yours and no one is in the background pulling your strings. You're like an oasis in a desert, a little spot in the forest to rest in and feel aware of all the other things that live life around you: the birds, the bees, the critters, and the little insects crawling in the ground and over you. Some here may experiment with weed and psychedelics which accounts for your chill, go-lucky attitude and higher spiritual connectivity. I feel this pile is very connected to animals too. You may have adopted a lot of animals or just seem to be a magnet for little forest creatures. You're like a Disney Princess. You radiate kindness and angelic grace and are a woman loved by all creatures that see and know her. Your love for the earth and all its inhabitants pours out of you and creates this beautiful Madonna image. I'm seeing a picture of Mother Mary, serene, beautiful, and otherworldly. It's almost like you are not part of this world. You come off as so delicate and precious, a rarity among a world lost to cynicism and mundanity. Your lovers imagine wrapping themselves up in you like a soft, feathery blanket. You're a source of security to them, a warm balm on their wounds when they fall and get hurt and the ice cream they enjoy afterwards. I feel you love taking care of people. You may play nurse and physically take care of your partners like children, missing their pains and keeping them giggling. You are soft, open and delicious, like a jelly-filled pastries in a bakery!

Everything about you is so refreshing, light and fun. There's an air of innocence that makes you unique, a babydoll made human like like in the Disney movie Life-Size. It's hard to find a light that shines as bright as yours and everyone around you wonders that if they stay near you maybe that light can rub off on them and if not, they are simply satisfied in basking in your glow. You're like a sunflower soaking in sunlight. You connect lovers to their inner child and they cannot get enough of that. With you they can be free and playful, they can release all their worries and learn to enjoy the moment, be a kid again and see life in the pure eyes of a child. You serve as a snapshot to life's most heart-melting moments and once your lovers see things through your eyes, it's like being bathed under a warm, ever-flowing spring. They feel renewed, enlightened, as if they never truly knew sunlight until they met you.

I feel this pile is more spiritually attuned, women that are close to the divine feminine and harness the power of feminity. Your effect is very healing. It kind of reminds me of Fluttershy from My Little Pony. She's warm, kind, and a nature lover, and she uses her powers for the good of others. I feel this pile are participants and donors of good causes, or you wish to be but have yet to take the initiative, but it is only a matter of when. You're an Angel in your own right, a being from high coming to visit the little people down below. There's something about you that's so welcoming and gooey. You're like sunny days spent out on the beach, a twilight where the stars and clouds mingle, and the feeling of being wrapped up in cozy sweaters in Autumn. You remind people that there are things worth saving in this world, that what they can do tomorrow is what they can do today. You're a wellspring of hope, the dream one has in a single night that changes everything. 🌷 Despite all this talk of innocence and rarity, there's a strength to you too, an unyielding stubbornness that only serves to accentuate your womanly wiles. You're always there to help a loved one, and it may go unappreciated because it seems that nothing phases you, when in actuality, you shoulder a lot; you just have an incredible way of keeping yourself untainted. It's almost as if you mop up people's troubles for them. Like a wet sponge to a person's skin, you're cleaning it off and getting their dirt onto you, then emptying the emotional bucket, taking a shower, and going on about your day. Kind of like a sin eater. Ever heard of one of those? Here's an excerpt from Wikipedia so you don't have to search for it: "A sin-eater is a person who consumes a ritual meal in order to spiritually take on the sins of a deceased person. The food was believed to absorb the sins of a recently dead person, thus absolving the soul of the person." Powerful stuff, but I'd be wary of people taking advantage of this. It's easy for people to become codependent on you, and easier for you to become emotionally attached to them. Like cleansing the bad, you sometimes have to cleanse the good too. It's better to take a neutral stance for the health of yourself and others, be the mothering figure but allow for others to make mistakes. You can't walk a person's journey for them, but the support you do give is immeasurable in impact. ~

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

ᴀɴʏ ᴄʀɪᴛɪᴄɪꜱᴍꜱ ᴏʀ ꜰᴇᴇᴅʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ. ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ɪᴍᴘʀᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ. ♡

ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ

© lolita-bonita — Please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other social media platforms without my permission. This is the only platform that I post this type of content. If you see my work being posted anywhere else, please kindly report them to me. ♡

⊱┈─ ✧

✨️ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Tarot is not an exact science, nor can it produce factually true information. All things posted are alleged and for entertainment purposes only. The future is fluid, and what may happen is based on your choices and actions, not what I and a deck of cards say. You are still the creator of your future. ✨️

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

[aphel1on]

Dungeon Lords and the Human Need for Connection

When I came across these panels again the other day, it got me thinking about dungeon lord parallels again.

...And I spiraled until I was writing my thesis statement about how All Four Dungeon Lords (Yes, Even Laios, Stop leaving him out of these discussions) Are Actually the Same.

Firstly (because on some level everything is about Thistle to me) I thought about how the lion could have very likely given Thistle a similar offer when his loved ones started losing their souls/rebelling/etc. And yet, there is no sign that Thistle ever accepted such an offer, nor any sign that he used magic to forcibly change people's opinions, the way Marcille briefly threatened the party with while she was dungeon lord:

Instead, he ended up with the fucking dining table that drives me insane. Which probably means that either Thistle rejected the offer, or the lion sensed it wouldn't go over well and didn't even try it.

Making replicas of people doesn't seem to be an uncommon part of granting the dungeon lord's wishes. In his time, Mithrun actually took the demon up on it:

(Not pictured; the infamous lamia-version of his love interest.)

What makes Mithrun different from Thistle and Marcille in this instance is that Thistle and Marcille both became dungeon lords for the sake of specific people. Both were motivated by the terror of losing their most important people, and both told themselves everything they did was for the sake of protecting those people.

Because they were motivated by genuine love, copies or mind manipulation were not palatable. I think Thistle even in the late stages of his madness probably would not find these to be acceptable solutions. No matter how twisted, possessive, and obsessive his love became under the dungeon's influence, it was still from the fear of losing those original, irreplaceable people that he was doing all this. Even as his relationship with Delgal and the other Melinis fell apart over the years... even as he was left with only their soulless bodies... he would still rather cling to whatever was left.

Perhaps on some level, Thistle recognized the same thing that kept Marcille from following through with her threats:

Even in the state of endlessly chasing their desires as dungeon lords, they couldn't feel truly okay accomplishing it that way.

For Mithrun, meanwhile, the people in his fantasy world were a means to an end. It was all-encompassing insecurity and the pain of not being wanted that led him to become dungeon lord. His desire was not fixated on any specific people - it was broad enough and desperate enough that anyone could fulfill it. The thing is, Mithrun prior to becoming dungeon lord was by all accounts well-liked. But his emotional walls were up so high that not a single one of his admirers could make him feel known and cared for. The kind of crushing perfectionism he exhibited in that stage of his life often comes with a silent and equally crushing imposter syndrome. No one actually knew him, because Mithrun didn't let them, even though every aspect of his personality then was a desperate plea to be seen and liked. I think the sad truth is that, by the time he became dungeon lord, Mithrun didn't truly believe that happiness was something that could be found in other people. (It's telling that his wish was for a world in which he had never been discarded; perhaps for a world in which he never felt the need to put up those masks.)

In this respect, Mithrun is actually more alike to Laios than he is to Thistle and Marcille.

Laios was told again and again by the world that it was wrong to be who he was - that he was unlikeable when he acted the way that came naturally to him. The lion didn't bother asking Laios about replicas; those would be meaningless to him. Like Mithrun, Laios had lost all hope of being liked for who he was, but took it one step further: Laios had lost hope that he could find happiness in the human world entirely. At that point, all he wanted was an escape. To leave the pain of the human world behind and become someone, something, different. All he really needed in order to be tempted into it was the assurance that his friends would be safe.

All four of these stories have a pretty obvious throughline when you think about it: the deep, intrinsic need for human connection and what happens to someone when that need cannot be met.

All four of them were starving for connection. All four of them experienced alienation and isolation that made them desperate enough to turn to the demon.

Marcille (a half-elf whose unstable aging left her without peers) and Thistle (raised as the only elf in a kingdom of humans) both formed intense attachments to the few people they did become close to, and went off the deep end from fear of losing them.

Mithrun and Laios were both rejected by others for aspects of themselves that were out of their control, and tried to cope by developing masks that left them unable to feel accepted by the people still in their lives.

...So it's fitting, then, that genuine human connection is also what saved all four of them in the end.

(Thistle is a little arguable here; I personally don't think he died, but even if you do believe he died at the end of the manga- Yaad being able to connect and empathize with him is what gave him peace and solace in his final moments.)

Dungeon Meshi is about alienation and connection as much as it is about food and cycles of life. (Or more like, these themes are masterfully intertwined - food is used to represent love and connection over and over again. But that's a whole essay in and of itself!)

[lyinginmeadow]

Shadows will guide you home | Azriel × reader

Summary: Some fae don't like the idea of the Archerons turning into high fae and reader being one in unfamiliar city makes a perfect opportunity for an intervention Warnings: acotar related violence, not super descriptive, language, slight angst Word count: 1.4k a/n: Hii, this is my very first fanfic, please remember to be kind. <3 Also English is not my first language so it may be a bit rough.

Being another Archeron sister was quite exhausting. The constant comparison drawn between you ever since you were born created a dark place deep within you. After years of being poor, starved, and uneducated, the family regained their riches back thanks to Feyre. The cost left you empty, breaking your heart into a million pieces. You wanted your sister back more than anything, you would return your newfound lifestyle to have her with you again. Taking lessons together, sharing laughs, and pretending as if everything is normal. As if she never left and their father hadn't left them to starvation.

Instead, the Gods were laughing in your face as you with two of your sisters were changed and thrown into the world of high fae. While you got your sister back, there were matters to be taken care of. Leaving you alone in a city and with species foreign to you. You had met the inner circle while you were still human. They were nothing but kind to you then, but you assumed that was because you were Feyre's sister. Now they haven't paid you much mind because their hands were either full with court business you didn't understand or your sisters. You were left scarred inside while pretending it hadn't affected you as much.

''Are you listening?'' Asked a pretty blonde in a red dress, Mor. ''I'm sorry, I just spaced out a little. What were you saying?'' You smiled, red creeping up your cheeks. ''You are free to explore the city, you don't have to feel caged inside.'' She returned your smile. ''Oh, I don't feel like that. I...I guess it's kind of strange to be here. Is there an apothecary around here?''

''Yes, it's in the square just next to the bridge you can’t miss it,'' Mor replied. ''I must go, but I will see you during dinnertime.'' She smiled for the last time as she disappeared into thin air. She came by just to invite you as per Feyre's request. Your sister knew you were too polite to decline any offer and without it you would probably not show up.

''Right.'' You mumbled under your breath as you looked out of the window. In the reflection, you caught the sigh of a shadow. You whipped around to see nothing. Signing, you turned to the window again thinking about certain Illyrian familiar with shadows. When you first met him, he was like a rock that you could lean onto while the queens invaded your home. You talked, feeling an instant connection and thought he felt the same. You didn't remember what happened during the changing process, your brain blocked the memory altogether. But after waking up in Velaris, he didn't seem to notice you, rather seeking the company of your older twin sister.

You knew it wasn't rational to feel hurt by this, but that didn't stop your heart from throbbing. Exhaling a deep breath you went to explore the city as Mor suggested, feeling sick of your little pity party.

After hours spent in the city, it was starting to get dark. Nights here were magical, but your fear of them only amplified during years spent in the dark streets trying to provide for your family by any means necessary, so you tried to hurry back to the house. Taking a turn into an ally wasn't a choice you wanted to make, but panic started to take over every action your body made. Looking around you knew you were lost and didn't know where to go next.

''Looking for something?'' You whipped around with shock in your eyes. ''No, but thank you. My partner is just around the corner.'' You smiled politely your instincts kicking in as you lied smoothly. A shadow caressed your skin as if to soothe your worries and disappeared. You didn't have time to think about it more as the man standing in front of you stepped closer. ''Are you sure? We could help you, Y/N.'' Another dark figure from behind you said so near you could feel his breath on your neck. ''I don't know who you think I am, but that is not my name. And I do not need help from strangers. So let me pass.'' You tried to will your voice not to tremble, but it was of no use. You were starting to give in to the panic rising within you. ''And we don't need humans becoming high fae and hijacking our court. But here you are.'' Said a male in front of you while pulling out a knife. “This will send the message." Continued another one next to what you pressumed was the leader. One againts three were not the odds you prefered.

You had no idea how they found out your name or how they knew of your fate of becoming fae. "Feeling threatened by a female?" You knew getting a rise out of them was not the smartest idea. But maybe it could gain you valuable time for someone, anyone to notice. Velaris was supposed to be peaceful after all.

"You think you're funny, huh? We'll see if you'll find the knife just as entertaining." The male behind you pulled your hair harshly earning a scream from you. You didn't understand how they could blame you for something you had no control over. “Watch the alley, will you?” The male infront of you ordered the one standing next to him as he lifted his hand to your face. The knife danced lightly on your cheek leaving you defenseless. "Just so you know, maiming your face will be a pleasure." He whispered to your ear as he increased the presure on the knife drawing blood.

The whole alley turned pitch black. You had fae senses, but the dark was completely impenetrable yet familiar. You could only feel your hair being released, knife falling to the pavement, followed by screams and scratches on the stone. You were paralyzed, terrified, and unable to move. The dark had you in its claws and you could feel your breath getting more and more quick. ''How dare you hurt her ?'' A deep familiar voice took you out of your panic. There was no answer to his question. Only whimpers.

The shadows slowly dissolved letting in light from the main streets. There was no one here anymore. Only blood and scratches deep in the stone indicated a struggle.

Azriel appeared in front of you his hands gently grazing your untouched cheek. ''Don't look at it.'' His voice hoarse. You inhaled his scent making you instantly relaxed. ''Are you hurt?'' He asked worry lacing his voice. You gave him a shake of a head not trusting your voice. ''Lies. Shaken. Blood.'' Hissed hushed voice, startling you. ''I am not lying. I am just fine.'' You pushed Azriel away looking around for the source. ''You can hear them?'' Azriel frowned examining you.

''Look, I am sorry you had to bother with this. I know there are a lot of things to be done and I should have known how to protect myself-'' He stopped you from rambling with a thumb to your lips. His previous question forgotten. ''No one has a right to assault you. It is not your fault. Velaris is supposed to be safe. I promise that no one will harm you ever again.'' He left you completely stunned. ''Now, could you please show me where they hurt you, so we can heal it?'' Azriel asked slowly removing his thumb from your lips. Leaving you wishing it could stay there for a bit longer. You pushed back the hair that was covering your healing cheek. ''It's already healing. My abilities do come with very fast healing. As long as I don't use my powers much. I am just a bit shocked, that's all.'' You admitted looking to the stone path. ''Let's get you home then." He offered his hand which you gladly took your heart threatening to jump out of your chest.

''Look, Nesta started training with Cass and a few priestesses joined her. It is a way for them to regain their power and help them with their struggles. I was thinking that maybe it could be something you would give a try?'' Azriel asked as he led you through the house to your bedroom. ''Oh...I think I would like that.'' You smiled. Silence enveloping you again.

''Thank you, Az. For today and the offer.'' You looked down standing infront of the door to your bedroom. ''There is no need to thank me. But you should get some sleep.'' He looked at your door and then down the hallway. ''I will be right next to your room if you need anything. So please, let me know.'' He gave you a look of urgency and you gave him a nod even if you knew you would not. He probably knew it, too. ''Goodnight.''

"Goodnight."

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 20 (The End)

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings: 

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Definitely NSFW and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

Bluebell Cottage. Finally, finally, blessed silence. 

It wasn’t that they didn’t love their family. They did. But they could be a lot and right now, Eira could really do with some….quietness. And if that involved Azriel…even better. 

Eira couldn’t help the shocked laugh as he hefted her up in his arms like she weighed nothing though, carrying her towards the front door. 

“What are you doing? I can walk!” she protested, still giggling. 

“One more human tradition,” Azriel responded with a grin. “Isn’t supposed to carry the bride over the threshold?” 

She couldn’t help but laugh, but leant back against his solid chest as he did carry her towards the blue front door. 

“You are aware that humans do it because they think the big bad faes will otherwise get them?” she asked him with another giggle. 

Azriel huffed. "Well, I'm a big, bad, scary fae male," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "So I believe it to be appropriate."

He reached the door, the shadows opening and then closing it behind them.

"You aren't scary," she disagreed, softly, leaning up to brush a kiss against his jaw. He was her husband now. She was his wife. And they were finally in the privacy of their home. If it was appropriate to kiss him anywhere, then here it was.

Azriel smiled, a soft, tender look that sent a wave of affection through her chest, and he reached the living room. He moved to put her down but she kept a hold of the jacket he was.

"Let's go upstairs," she said softly, biting her lip. Her stomach was knotting with nervousness and... something else. Lust. Excitement. The knowledge of what they were going to do...Gods, she was almost shaking with it.

Eira didn't want to wait. She didn't want to sit down or do some other innocent, mundane, domestic task. She just wanted him. She wanted all of him.

She was practically shaking now, her heart thudding in her chest hard. She was sure Azriel could feel the way it was racing...the way her blood was singing for him.

Azriel looked at her, and though there were still traces of that soft, soft smile on his face, his eyes had darkened. His wings flared wide behind him.

He knew. He knew what she was thinking, what she was wanting…and the way he looked at her made it clear that it was reciprocated. Then Azriel was moving, striding across the room to the stairs, his steps hard and purposeful as he reached them. In a heartbeat, they'd moved up the stairs and into the bedroom, the door closing behind them.

"Tell me what you want, Eira," Azriel said softly as he put her down on her own two feet.

She couldn't reply at first, her words catching in her throat as she looked up into his eyes, the hazel so dark they were almost black.

"I want you," she said, her voice soft. "I want all of you. I'm...I'm your wife now. I belong with you. I want...I want everything."

He tipped her chin up, pressing a soft kiss against her lips. "Everything?" he asked her, his voice soft and velvety. "Everything, Sweetheart?"

Eira felt her legs almost shake a little at the sound of that voice, the way his breath tickled against her skin as he spoke. She felt almost light-headed, the heat of his body and the scent of his skin and the sound of his voice all combined into an almost dizzying combination that left her blood practically on fire.

And...gods...he hadn't even touched her yet.

But first... "I got you something," she blurted out.

Azriel pulled back at that, his eyes wide and the look in his eyes almost comically confused.

"You did?" he said, his voice full of bewilderment as he stood there, his hands still resting gently around her waist.

"Yes, I..." she trailed off, her eyes moving to the shadows, giving them a nod, only for them to appear with that brown paper bag moments later. "I hope it's...right," she warned him. "I needed to ask both Cassian and your mother for help," Eira explained as she broke off a piece of that particular Illyrian Candy that involved nuts and honey, and held it out for him. Peanut Honey Toffee. 

Azriel looked down at the piece of candy, then back up at her, his expression a mixture of utter confusion...and deep, overwhelming endearment.

"You...got this for me?" he asked softly, staring at the piece of candy with wide eyes.

"I made it for you. Your mother gave me the recipe when I had Cassian send her a letter," Eira said quickly. "I thought I was supposed to make food for my mate. I hope this also counts," she asked, her voice trembling, as she lifted that piece to his mouth.

Azriel's expression softened even more, all but melting...as he opened his mouth, and let her feed him the piece of candy. Which she did, gently placing it against his lips before he slowly, gently took it into his mouth. His eyes widened at the taste, and a quiet, almost guttural growl escaped his throat.

She felt it. The moment he swallowed...that bond between the two of them blew wide open. And she could feel him. Could feel his elation and adoration, his love for her, his nervousness, his want...His pupils were blown wide and she could only stare at him, her knees trembling, as it felt like pure heat shot straight to her core.

The effect seemed mutual, judging by the way Azriel reached out, almost roughly pulling her against him, his arms going around her.

His lips crashed against hers, harsh and needy and absolutely devouring her mouth, and gods she couldn't even think, her knees buckling, her mind spinning, as she tried to kiss him back, clinging to him as if he was the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth.

"Please tell me I can get you out of this dress," he requested, his voice hoarse. "Please, Eira."

She could only nod, the words failing her as she clutched at him, her eyes going wide and dark and a whimper leaving her lips.

"Yes," she gasped, her skin practically burning, almost overwhelmed with just how much she wanted him right now. "Yes, please," she pleaded.

Later she wondered where he got that patience from. Later she wondered how exactly, he managed to open the two dozen tiny pearl buttons down her spine, without destroying even a stitch of her dress. How he managed not to shred it right then and there, because she wanted him so much and even just holding still, while he pressed kiss after kiss to her neck was enough to make her tremble, her hands clenching into fists.

Later she would have plenty of time to marvel at just how patient and attentive her mate was. How despite the heat and lust and need between the two of them that burned like fire, he was still being slow and careful, despite the obvious signs that his self-control was wearing thin.

But in the moment? She couldn’t even focus on anything. She was just too aware of how hard he was breathing against her neck, the way his kisses started feeling like burns against her skin…

"Bed," he said, his voice rough and low and she shivered.

There were no words. No more words left in her, as her heart thundered in her chest. The bond between the two of them was a living thing right now, a tangible thing, as she could feel his need and want. And she was certain he could feel her own.

So rather than speak she just nodded, clutching at his arms as he lifted her up, and carried her over to the edge of the bed.

He was so gentle, so careful, as he placed her back down. Her dress was a mess, a tangle of fabric pooling around her, the bodice open and the skirt ruffled.

But all she cared about was the way he looked at her, her mate, her husband, her everything, looking down at her like she was the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

He pulled down her dress, near reverently, picking it up and placing it carefully on a chair across from the room, leaving her in scraps of white silk and lace that she had thought would be…

She had thought they would be seductive. Or maybe she had hoped it…hoped that it would…that Azriel would like them. But all they made her feel like was...vulnerable. Exposed. 

However as he crossed back to the bed, there was a sharp shiver of want through her. 

He stopped in front of her, his eyes roaming over her as if he was studying every inch, studying every part of her, his eyes darkened. Maybe he did like the lace… And then his hands were on her knees, gently pulling them apart, until she was exposed to him, sitting there on the bed, wearing nothing more than scraps of lace.

She felt weak. Vulnerable. Aroused…and her mate was looking down at her like he was starving.

His eyes were almost wild as he looked at her, his body taut, his wings flared out as he inhaled deep, a low, guttural, rasping sound coming from his throat.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he managed to say, his voice rough and hoarse. “I didn’t even know it was possible for someone to be this beautiful…”

She couldn’t answer, could only swallow…but she did fist her hands into the fine fabric of the jacket he wore and pulled him down to cover her with his body... Just to feel his weight, the warmth of him. 

To breathe in the scent of cedars and winter…and somehow that calmed that bond throbbing with need and want and desire. Somehow that made it possible to just look at him, to card her fingers through his midnight dark curls, to take in every inch of his face, these beautiful eyes, pupils blown wide, the green just a thin ring…to cup his cheek and press a kiss against his lips, feeling the warmth of his mouth on hers…

She let her own hands roam, one of them pulling loose the buttons of his shirt, the other exploring the broad expanse of his chest, her fingers tracing over the smooth, muscular skin.

His breath was coming in hard, ragged pants as she moved, and she could feel the effect this was having on him, the bond between the two of them practically throbbing...And then he was pulling back, his eyes looking up at her, almost delirious with lust, and gods, that look, that dark, hungry look on his face…

"Pull off that jacket or I'll rip it," she managed to bring out weakly, making him laugh as he sat back on his haunches, pulling off the jacket and the shirt he wore hurriedly.

His wings twitched behind him, spanning wide, and it was all she could see.

Her eyes traced over every line, every muscle...gods, the sight of him, shirtless and sitting between her legs, was almost overwhelming. She could only look at him, her eyes roaming over his chest, the smooth, muscular lines of his stomach, down to the waist of his trousers. His skin was gorgeously tan against the moonlight, the intricate tattoos marking his chest and arms like a work of art…he was perfect.

Her hands came up, almost involuntarily, tracing over those tattoos, the hard, firm planes of his body…she wanted more. More skin. All of him.

He let her, sitting still, as she ran her hands over his shoulders, down to his biceps, tracing over the tattoos along his arm and back up his chest…Azriel was breathing hard now, his eyes watching her every move, almost panting at her touch…

He wanted her. Wanted her more than anything. But her mate was being careful. Even now, as she could sense that last, thin thread of self-control…he was holding himself back.

Being so careful not to scare her… Her hand traced his jaw, her thumb coming up to caress his cheek…and there was a shiver of need, a tug against that bond between the two of them, as he closed his eyes, leaning into her touch…

"I want to touch you," he whispered. "Please, can I..."

She could hear the need in his voice, the plea, and it sent a wave of heat through her body.

"Anything," she breathed, her own voice almost breaking. “Anything you want, anything you need…I’m yours, I’m yours…”

He bore down on her, fingers slipping off these scraps of lace, a wave of self-consciousness overcoming her...but then he kissed her, and Eira forgot it all. Forgot everything but these broad, gentle hands on her skin, exploring her body...forgot everything but her mouth against her skin as he stared at her neck and pressed kisses to every single inch of her skin.

It was devastating. To feel his hands on her body, his mouth against her skin, leaving not an inch of her body untouched, as he explored her, worshipping her, caressing her, as if she was the most beautiful and precious thing he’d ever seen.

He was murmuring things against her skin, words of praise, words of adoration and love, that left her breathless and shaking and melting beneath his touch…

Azriel sucked one breast into his mouth and she moaned, her body arching and shaking, his thumb pressing over her other breasts...and then suddenly he hesitated. Her eyes opened and she watched as he stared at her body, as his thumb, hesitantly, reverently passed over the thin silvery scar underneath her left breast. 

Her eyes widened, a shiver of self-consciousness, of shame, going through her body as she looked down at the scar… Some part of her expected him to look at it with repulsion. Or pity, perhaps. But when her eyes met his his own, his expression was…worshipping. His thumb gently passed over that thin silvery gash. The sight, and feel and touch of it almost left her breathless.

He wasn’t looking at this thin silver scar with pity, or repulsion…he looked at it like he did the rest of her. Like something beautiful, and precious…and his.

And then he pressed his lips to it…near reverently. 

His kisses moved lower, down over her stomach...he was taking his time with her, exploring every part of her, as if wanting to commit every part of her to memory. And the more of her he touched...the more of her he tasted, the more her skin became almost feverish…

"Azriel," she gasped. "Please... please..."

"Shhhh," he shushed her. "You don't need to beg, Sweetheart. What do you want?" She shivered when he called her that...gods...he could make her melt with one single word...

"I need you," she gasped out, staring at him through half-lidded eyes. "I need you...need to feel you...I-"

Her hands reached out for him, trying to pull him down, trying to get him closer...

"Do you want to come, sweetheart?" Azriel asked her softly, pressing a kiss against her stomach and she whimpered. "So that you are getting wet and ready for me?"

She whimpered, the touch and the heat from his mouth and the sound of that voice and those words...

Her body was shaking, practically thrumming with tension after all that had taken place...and at the sound of that question, her back arched, a low, trembling yes leaving her throat…

"If you tell me to stop I will," Azriel said softly. "But give yourself a few minutes to get used to it, alright?"

She wasn't even sure to what exactly she had just agreed...only that his head was suddenly right between her legs, his hands gently holding her thighs open as she looked down at him, all dark, messy curls and hazel eyes, blown dark and wild with desire. He looked like he was going to devour her. 

And then he was kissing her. Right there, and a strangled gasp tore itself from her throat. "Az-Az riel..." she pleaded, her voice breaking...

She was shaking already, a tremble, a deep, uncontrollable trembling, shuddering through the entire length of her body. His hands were on her thighs, her hips, keeping her legs pinned open, even as his mouth worked magic against her skin…

And all she could do was clutch desperately at the sheets, gasp out broken pleas and half-words, her body wracked with need and desire...

He was devouring her. Suddenly she understood.

As his tongue teased at her in devastating, expert motions, as his lips and teeth and hands worked magic...his worshipful, reverent touches and kisses and licks reduced her to a trembling, panting, squirming mess…

He was devouring her. 

She was shaking, her body quivering, arching, writhing against his mouth, but his grip on her hips kept her pinned to the bed, his hands holding her thighs open even as she gasped and moaned and pleaded...

His head was between her legs, her trembling hands tangling into his hair, trying to hold on, but all she could do was shudder and shake as she came apart. 

"Good, sweetheart," Azriel praised her softly, pressing kisses against her thighs as she still shook through it. "That's perfect. You are getting so wet for me." She whimpered, her cheeks reddening at his words. Her cheeks were burning, her body shuddering as she looked up at him with wide eyes...still trying to catch her breath, while he was smiling at her...and the sight of him, his face and mouth still wet...

"Azriel...I-" she gasped out, her voice trembling, only to break as she let out a little, shuddering mewl…

He climbed back up over her, settling himself between her legs once again, his body pressed against hers, and like this, she could feel that he was hard. The length of him pressed against her stomach, making her breath all the more faster, making her want.

"Please," she managed to gasp out desperately, beggingly, and he groaned at the sound of it, dropping his head to nip at her neck.

"Please, Azriel..." she pleaded, her fingers tangling in his hair… Gods, he was surrounding her everywhere, pinning her to the bed like this, and his skin...his skin was so hot, practically on fire against hers, and she could feel him shaking, every muscle in his body taut…

One broad hand stroked down her body and she whimpered at his touch, as it slipped between her legs, circling that pearl at the apex of her thighs, and then one thick finger sank into her.

Her own had felt…big inside her. But that was nothing against how Azriel’s finger felt inside her…

As he circled and stroked inside her, her body wracking itself with a shuddering tremble, her back arching as her hips moved of their own accord, trying to get as close as possible, trying to move

"Perfect, sweetheart," he praised her, a kiss pressed against her temple.

"I... please, I-" she begged breathlessly, her hips arching and shaking as he moved that finger in and out, slowly, so damn slow she wanted to scream...but all words escaped her...all she could do was moan, a low, whimpering sound, as her body writhed and squirmed, arching against his touch...she was lost to it, to the feel of his hands, to the feel of him...

"Please..." she managed to pant out again, not even sure what she was asking, the only coherent thought going through her head being need and more…

“Another?” he asked her softly.

Another...she was struggling to even think straight at the moment. All her coherent thoughts were concentrated on that wicked finger moving inside of her...Her eyes met his, wide and a bit unfocused, but with just enough of her mind left for her to nod, albeit breathlessly. 

His second finger was almost as devastating as the first. Her breath came out in little pants now, her hands clutching desperately at his shoulders, and she could suddenly feel how close she was to the edge, her body shaking and trembling, as he moved his mouth to the base of her neck and bit.  

Her body arched at the feel of his mouth, at the feel of teeth on her neck as he bit and sucked at her skin, surely marking her, sure enough, to leave bruises on her skin...that, and the sight of him above her, the feel of his fingers, moving inside of her...

"Azriel..." she gasped his name, the plea clear in her voice, her body writhing and shaking against his hold…

This time, she was desperate, she was a trembling, writhing mess of pleading moans and pants, as her body felt like it was practically vibrating, as she was right on the edge...and then his thumb came to rub that sensitive bundle of nerves right there…

Eira keened, arching off the bed,  her hands fisting into the sheets, her body shaking and tensing, so taut it felt like she was about to snap, as she gasped and panted, her mind going blank as that pleasure, that heat built within her...it was terrifying, like being on the edge of an abyss...

And then she snapped. A sharp, strangled cry tore itself from her throat as her body went absolutely tense for a second...and then relaxed as wave after wave of pleasure swept over her, wracking her body as she gasped and shook and shuddered into that release.

She was dimly aware of his hands coming up and stroking down her sides, his lips against her neck as he praised her, calling her perfect, and sweetheart, and good, as she trembled on the edge of those overwhelming waves...

And she was melting, at the sound of his voice, at the praise, at the touch of his hands and his mouth...

But gods, she was also so, so sensitive, her body feeling like it was on fire like it was over-stimulated...she let out a little whimper, her hands clenching against his skin...

"More," she requested, tipping up her chin so that she could kiss him.

It was a greedy, desperate kiss, all hot and open, and his body was still pressed against hers, and she could feel the heat and hardness of him, burning between them...gods...

He groaned into the kiss at the feel of her, of her lips and tongue, the sound a low, guttural sound, almost bordering on animalistic...

"Are you sure?" he asked her softly, and she swallowed but nodded.

The feel of him, his body pressed so close against hers, so hot and hard against her...he was asking, but she knew he was hurting, she could feel how much he wanted this, needed this as well...

"Please," she whispered, "please, I...I want this...I want you..."

"Shh, sweetheart," he shushed her, pulling back and she leant up on her shaking elbows to watch him divest himself of his trousers. 

She could only stare.

That drawing of male anatomy had… definitely not…prepared her for Azriel. 

She could just swallow when she took in the sheer size of him. 

Her mouth was suddenly feeling dry in a mixture of desire and terror. Her stomach turned into a tight, nervous knot. 

"That's...That's not going to fit inside me," Eira squeaked. That was not…that was not…

"It will," Azriel promised with a soft laugh. “Just relax, Sweetheart. We’ll make it fit,” he promised her, pressing a kiss against her unresisting lips. 

No, that wasn’t…This wasn't two fingers like she had maybe thought. This was…

“You…you are huge,” she blurted out. 

"What every male wants to hear, sweetheart," he said with some amusement, pressing a kiss against her lips. "But I am only slightly above average."

Somehow she didn't believe that. At all.

And then suddenly something else made sense. "Is that what everybody means when they say you have the biggest wingspan?" she asked him weakly, making him laugh.

"I do have the biggest wingspan," he chuckled.

Eira collapsed back into the mattress, making Azriel chuckle as he pressed a kiss against her lips. 

“I promise you, it will fit,” he whispered against her lips. “You were made for me, Sweetheart.”

And somehow…somehow that…she was made for him. She was his mate. 

“We can try,” she said, biting her lip. “But if it…if it hurts…”

“If it hurts, we’ll stop,” Azriel crooned softly, his body moving over hers, covering her, as he leaned down to kiss her lips. "I promise you, it will fit," he murmured, his hands running along her body. "Just relax, Sweetheart. We'll make it fit."

She whimpered as she felt him notch his cock against her, her folds drenched and overheated and a full-body shiver went through her.

"Don't worry," Azriel murmured against her neck. "I am going to be very careful. Just relax, sweetheart, it's going to feel so good."

Eira swallowed, she was trembling under him, her hands clenching against his shoulders. 

She trusted him. She trusted him not to hurt her. To make this good...

And so Eira willed her body to relax, too intense under him, and his hands were stroking gently over her body, his mouth trailing kisses and sucking marks down her neck, his tongue and his teeth leaving a trail of sparks running throughout her body...

She was starting to settle, her head leaning back, her breath coming in shallow pants as desire replaced her previous fear...

"Just relax, sweetheart. That’s all you need to do," he reminded her softly, his voice a little strained, and she nodded.

She tried, she tried to relax, she breathed, but gods, he was so close and so hot...she wanted, she wanted it, but she was still terrified at the same time...

He shifted his weight just slightly and she gasped as she could feel him press against her entrance.

“Please, talk to me,” she panted out, just needed to know that he was right there…

“You just relax, Sweetheart,” Azriel whispered her softly. “Just relax…I am not going to do anything…Just get used to the pressure and weight…”

"Please," she panted out, not even sure what she was asking for, only knowing she wanted more, needing him to move and do something, because this, this pressure and heat and wait was driving her insane… "Please, please..."

He rocked inside her, just a little bit and she gasped.

She gasped, loud, her hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders,

"Shhh," he whispered against her neck, kissing her skin, as he began to move, slowly, so slowly rocking into her, as he kept whispering against her skin...

"You're doing so good, sweetheart," he murmured, "You are so good..."

He felt so big inside her, stretching her so wide, and she whimpered in a sharp, stinging pain as he slid deeper inside her.

His body seemed to react on instinct, stopping, as he raised his head to look at her, his hands coming up to cup her face. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice, that beautiful, deep voice, full of concern, and she knew, instantly, that he would stop if she wanted him to.

But she wanted this. Wanted to be closer to him, to be his, more than anything else. She shook her head, clinging to him, digging her hands into his strong, perfect arms.

"Don't stop," she pleaded. "Please, don't stop."

“More?” he asked her softly and she managed a nod. 

He groaned against her neck, her head arching at the sound of it, and he started moving again, slowly, still so, so slowly, rocking into her. This time, the pain was less, replaced by that all-consuming pleasure. Every time he pushed himself into her, a deep, aching pleasure, something she couldn't have imagined before his body pressed against her. 

His body had found a rhythm, a steady pace, an almost torturous back and forth, and she found herself moving again, meeting him, arching against him, needing her body to press against his, to get as close as possible to him.

More and more of him inside her and every time she thought she had taken all of him...more slid inside her, and her body yielded, making space for him somehow.

He panted her name against her neck, and she could feel it as his muscles trembled, as if desperately trying to hold on to that last, fragile thread of self-control...he was holding back, for her, trying to make this as good as possible...

It was so good. How could it be anything else, with the way he was surrounding her, his body, hot and flushed against hers, the way she could hear his low, panting gasps, the way he was whispering her name, over and over, again and again...

She could feel that familiar heat, rising within her, like a wave in the ocean, every time he pushed inside of her, filling her. Every move, every shift of his body, driving her closer and closer to the edge, driving the heat to that point where it trembled on the edge, just like she was...gods...he was moving faster, now, faster, with a steady, almost driving pace, as he kissed against her neck, her shoulder, his hands running up her body to her hair, and...

"Please," she gasped out, her words coming out in little pants, begging, "Please, I need, I need..."

"I know, I know," he groaned against her neck, his hands coming up and tangling in her hair, his pace never faltering, "I know, sweetheart, I got you."

And he did.

It was like an explosion going off inside of her. Wave after wave of pleasure, of white, hot, pleasure wracking her body with a shuddered shock, as she clenched around him, her body convulsing as she arched, writhing against his body, crying out his name. 

His body tensed above her, and his hands clenched into the sheets, his breath coming out in a low, guttural groan, as he shuddered, and she could feel him pulsing inside her. 

He was panting against her neck, his breath as uneven and ragged as hers, his heart racing against her chest. And, even though she was still trembling, still trying to recover herself from the overwhelming pleasure, just feeling him there, on top of her, with his body flush against hers, was...perfect. 

He raised his head, pressing a kiss against her lips, a slow, gentle movement, and it sent a shiver through her, as she raised one trembling hand to cup his face. Gods, he was perfect, so perfect in this moment.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, his voice a low, hoarse hoarse rumble. Her eyes opened at that, and she was hit with a sudden wave of warmth in her stomach. 

"I'm perfect," she whispered back to him, a slow, blissful smile spreading on her face. And she meant it, the smile widening as his face brightened. 

He smiled at her response, a beautiful, beautiful smile, before he shifted, rolling them over until she was lying sprawled on top of him. He settled with a sigh, burying a hand in her hair and she snuggled into his chest, feeling perfectly safe like this. 

Surrounded by her mate. 

***

Azriel had never in his life thought that the Mating Frenzy would feel like that.

It was like a wildfire, burning inside of him, driving him mad, as it urged him to hold onto her, keep her close, claim her again, and again, and again...

And he did. Again and again and again. He waited for it to abate, but nothing of that sort happened. He waited for himself to do something, to reach some unspoken limit that would make Eira withdraw or flinch away or tell him no.

But there was nothing.

It was like she was made for him like she could take everything he gave her, everything his body, his instincts, demanded from her, and she just met it with that look in her eyes, that look of sweet pleasure.

Just relaxed underneath him with all the trust in the world, her eyes closing, her body growing lax.

Gods, she let him do whatever he wanted, and her moans, her gasps, her whimpers, they drove him mad, drove him to do more, more, more, as he could never get enough of her...

She was pliant and soft, her body arching and yielding to his touch, so perfect, so sweet, every touch sending another wave of heat through him, like it was just stoking the fire further, making him want her even more…

He was quite sure the only reason that they didn't starve or had a serious case of dehydration, was the shadows that plied them with food and drinks whenever they took some sort of break.

Which they only did rarely, because all of his attention was on her, on her sweet mouth, those beautiful eyes, her delicate body, all of it that he could touch, taste whenever he wanted...

It was endless, all-consuming, the way he claimed her, the way his body demanded her, again and again, until she was panting his name, whispering pleas and promises against his skin...

And even in that, in that mindless, endless desire, the way he wanted her, he was conscious, always conscious of the way she felt, the way her body responded to his, the way she trusted him and gods, he wanted to soak in that trust, drown in it.

His body demanded, needed more, more of her, more of her body, her sweet moans, the way she shivered and arched against him. 

He lost track of time, of what day it even was, his mind consumed by the desperate need to touch her, taste her, bury himself inside of her, again and again...

Over and over, the days passing with their bodies tangled together, his name a chant, a plea against her lips, her body a sweet, sweet haven for him, a paradise, that he could simply lose himself in...

Gods, he would never be able to have enough of her, of feeling her, of the way she trembled, and gasped, and moaned, the way her skin flushed, the way her body clenched around him...

He wasn't even sure how long it had been...longer than a week, because the last time Rhys had tried to check in on him, he had forced him out of his mind, too busy between Eira's thighs...Rhys had pulled back like Azriel had burned him and hadn't appeared again.

Not that he even noticed, too occupied with the heat of her body, the softness of her skin, the feel of her around him, every inch of her body like the most delicious food, that he could simply not get enough of…

He woke up, curled around her back, one wing stretched over her.

Eira was still asleep, hair mussed...he had managed to pull the flowers and hair combs out of her sometime during the days that followed their wedding...had even managed to take a bath with his mate, which had then ended up with him taking her from behind, her body draped against the cool marble of their bathroom...

She looked so peaceful, sleeping there, her body boneless with exhaustion, her skin marked with love bites and bruised he had sucked into her skin much to her delight. The sight of her like that, with the evidence of his mark clearly visible on her…

He groaned, his body already reacting to the sight of her, to her smell, as he wrapped his hand around her hip and pulled her closer, shifting her body until her back was flush against him, his front pressed against her perfect, soft back.

Gods, she was so warm, even through the blankets, and he couldn't resist burying his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet, sweet smell. Snowdrops and almonds and ice and...he buried his nose tighter against her pulse point, inhaling again, a soft hum coming from her.

Cedar and Winter, his own scent...but that wasn't...He breathed in again.

He could smell...something soft and sweet, like a bud just opening...Eira's scent changed. Already.

Changing into something richer, something...fertile. 

Changing with the scent of a new life having taken root in her womb.

He paused, his hands going still, as that realization hit him. Gods...he could already smell it on her, the change in her scent, the change...proof that she was...pregnant...

"Azriel?" his hand snapped up and he stared at his mate, at his wife, at the mother of his child, her eyes blinking open, eyes still drowsy with sleep.

Gods, she looked so sweet as she looked up at him, and it was like all the air just vanished from his lungs… His hand trembled slightly as he raised it and touched her face, her soft skin against his fingers, his mind still trying to comprehend the idea that she...that they were...

"Are you doing alright?" he asked, his voice sounding a bit raspy, and her eyes softened, her lips pulling up into a slow, sleepy smile.

"Mhmm," she hummed out, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment, as she snuggled tighter into his chest. "Just sleepy," she answered, her voice sleepy, but content, as she burrowed closer to him. "Warm..."

He buried his nose back into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent like a starving male, his hands sliding down underneath the blankets until he could touch…

He ran his hands over her body, gently, just feeling her, just touching her skin, feeling his palms slide over her hip, down her curves, down to her stomach...right where the scent was coming from, thick and powerful, the scent of a baby, their baby, taking root within her womb...

It was like that thought, that knowledge was making his mind short-circuit, like he could barely even think, let alone process it...he just...wanted to touch and hold her, to keep her safe.

"You're changing..." the words came out against her skin, mumbled like a prayer, the realization driving him mad. She was pregnant, she was creating life within her womb...

"Hmmm?" she hummed out, her eyes still closed, a small smile on her face, so blissfully ignorant of what that scent meant. "What do you mean?" she asked, and his heart ached at the adorable confusion in her voice.

"I can smell it," he said back, his lips still against her skin, still breathing in her scent. "The change in your scent..."

Those beautiful, beautiful, grey eyes of hers blinked open slowly, a bit more alert now, though still confused. "Change in my scent...?" she repeated, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion for a moment. "I smell different?"

"You smell fertile..." he said, his hands still on her stomach, running in slow, almost reverent caresses over her skin. "The scent's changed...already...proof that...that you're...pregnant..."

Those sweet, grey eyes of hers widened at his words, and his heart ached for a moment, as a flicker of disbelief passed through her expression. He waited, barely able to breathe, for her response.

Her eyes darted up to his for a moment, searching his expression. "...are you sure...?" she asked back in a whisper, her body tense for a moment, but her voice hopeful.

"I'm sure," he answered, his hands rubbing over her stomach once more. "The change...it only happens...in pregnant females...you're...you're carrying our baby, Sweetheart..."

That was it, the moment, the moment when he saw that realisation, that knowledge settle onto her, the moment he saw acceptance and hope and joy all flicker through her expression, before...before the tears started welling up in her eyes...

"We…we made a baby?" The words came out as a soft whisper, so hopeful, so sweet, that it was like a dagger to his heart. 

Azriel's breath hitched in his throat, and his hands tightened their hold on her body, as he nodded in response. "Yes...we made a baby," he answered, his voice as soft as hers.

And then it was like the dams had broken, tears starting to pour from her eyes, as she let out a choked, broken sound, her body shaking against his. 

She wasn’t upset, wasn’t sad, didn’t regret the baby they had made…he could feel a wave of almost relief wash over him from their bond, and then, a fledgling, sweet feeling of happiness. 

Azriel gently pulled her closer, until he was cradling her in his arms… "Shhh...shh...it's alright," he soothed her, whispering against the top of Eira’s head, as he tried to bring her back from her tears. "It's alright...don't cry, sweetheart...shh..."

But she was just crying harder, now full-on sobbing in his arms, her hands coming up to grip onto his shirt, her face buried against his chest… He held her like that, tight against him, his nose buried in her hair, as he let her cry it out, whispering soft, hushed assurances against her hair, trying to soothe her and himself at the same time.

"We...we made a baby?" she repeated, her voice coming out in hiccoughs against his chest, and he felt a pang of pain at the sound of it, at the hope, joy, and disbelief, he could hear in that soft, broken voice...

"Yes, sweetheart," he said, his voice a soft comfort in her ear, "yes, yes we did...we made a baby...you, you're pregnant, we're having a baby..."

And her sobs changed, that word, that truth, like a soothing balm over a wound, as she kept repeating it, through her tears and hiccoughs, like she was trying to make herself believe it...

"I am pregnant...we're having a baby..." she whispered out, over and over, and gods, it was the sweetest sound in the world, her voice, the words out of her mouth, and he could feel his own tears starting to burn in his eyes, at the sheer, raw joy of those two facts...

He just held her there, cradling her tight in his arms, stroking her back, and her hair, whispering more soothing, loving words to her, as she cried, as she repeated it over and yet again...

Eventually, the tears dried, her sobs subsided, her body tired and boneless against his chest. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" he whispered against the top of her head, as he held her against his chest, stroking her hair with gentle, soothing caresses.

"I'm..." she muttered out, her voice still a bit raw. "I'm just happy." she lifted her head up with a smile, her grey eyes a bit swollen, a few tear tracks still visible on her face, but her eyes so full of joy and life, as she stared up at him with a shaky smile, her hand coming to rest on the side of his face. "I'm so, so happy, Azriel..."

He felt his heart clench in his chest at the sound of her voice, at the absolute, pure joy in her tone, as he nodded, a few tears of his own slipping from his eyes now. "I'm happy, too," he said, his voice low and rough, as he bent his head and gently pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm so, so happy, sweetheart..."

Babies? the shadows whispered, suddenly appearing behind him.

Azriellaughed as he looked behind him, staring into the shadows. "Yes, babies," he said quietly, gently pulling his mate even closer, as he stroked her cheek with his hand. "We're having a baby..."

The shadows wriggled like they were dancing on the spot with sheer, pure excitement, coming to wriggle all over Eira, pressing against her naked skin.

"Hey," he snapped at them, gently batting them away from his mate. "Careful," he hissed, his hands carefully pushing the shadows away from the soft skin of Eira's stomach.

"It's fine," Eira protested, a hint of a smile on her face, as she looked down at the shadows. The shadows writhed around her hand, wrapping itself happily around her finger before pressing against her stomach once more. "They just....want to be close to their new friend," she said, her voice soft, her gaze warm as she looked down at the shadows.

Azriel groaned, his annoyance fading away at her words, as he looked down at the shadows, at the way they were wriggling happily against her skin, his mind picturing the image of them happily playing with the baby, once it was born...

"Just be gentle," he told them firmly, his eyes fixing back onto the shadows, the way they were wriggling around her, clearly delighted at the revelation that her womb, that her body, was making a new life within her…

They writhed, the shadows all coming together to form one large, singular one, which reached out, and very gently, barely touching against her stomach. Eira reached out as well, her fingers gently wrapping around a part of the shadow, which pressed against her hand, as if in greeting.

Azriel let out a soft breath, as the sight of that interaction sent his heart into a spin. The shadows were...happy. Delighted. They liked her. Hell, they loved her. He had never seen them interact with anyone like...like they were interacting with Eira...

And the way she was gently stroking the shadows...it was clear his mate loved them just as much as they loved her. That...that was probably the last thing he could have foreseen and yet, the sight of it...it made his heart sing within his chest.

Notes:

It's always bittersweet to come to the end of a story. I did really enjoy the last three weeks though and appreciated ever comment and ever like or kudos, every favourite and every bookmark.

While Looked to the Sky has now ended, The Prophecy is as always, ongoing. So every thought, prompt, comment, throw them my way! I'll add them to my horde of plot bunnies

[audrey-emeralds]

Smashing Diamonds

Pairing: Nate Jacobs x Fem!Reader

Summary: The well-organized party turns south for Nate when he sees his former fling just a few steps away from Maddie, with whom he recently rekindled. Deciding to stay away from her, he realizes he can't help himself after noticing what she is wearing. Word count: 2.3k (2381 words)

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, name-calling, slut shaming, degradation, fingering, a bit of choking, cursing, unprotected sex

A/n: I don't know why but I got the need to try something dirty and Nate is the perfect person to try this on. Anyway, first time really trying to get into it, so I apologize if it isn't the best. Also, I wrote this as quickly as I could, because I was afraid the writer's block was gonna get me, but thankful it did!

Friday night, a perfect time for partying. When your friend Lea first mentioned the idea, you already knew what you wanted to wear. A very transparent top and skirt, with minimal material, mostly consisting of thin stripes of diamonds. A hot look for any club.

However, Lea didn't have any club on her mind. She mentioned your friends from East Highland High.

" You remember Barbara, yeah, well she said that there was this party happening on Friday and how we should totally come. " You thought about it, not much linked you to the people from there, which seemed like a great opportunity to meet new people and face new adventures. Without any hesitation, you agreed to this party.

~~~time skip~~~

After dressing up, you gave yourself a few spins, and view your reflection from the full body mirror, admiring the shiny gems that only covered small parts of your skin.

" This is going to be epic. " You took a selfie of yourself as you heard a car honking in front of your house. Quickening your steps, you managed to pass your living room with neither of your parents taking a glance at you, knowing they wouldn't approve of the outfit.

" Damn, girl, are you trying to get knocked up?!?! " Lea let her jaw fall to the floor as you were walking towards her car.

" Hahaha, not really. " A giggle slipped through your glossy lips.

" Well, good luck trying to find a guy who will pull out in time with you like this. "

You gasped dramatically, giggling once again. " Oh my God, Lea! " She winked at you, driving away from your house and straight to the party house.

Before you even stepped into the house, a smell of weed hit your nose. Alcohol bottles were at every table, every counter, and at any corner available. The whole house was covered in purple and pink lights, pouring over the crowds, not missing a single human. Music was bombing the whole place with its beat, and you couldn't wait to get to the dancing.

You noticed that just next to the big sofa, Barbara sat on an armchair, vaping casually. Lea and you made your way over to her. She quickly saw you coming her way and stood up with open arms.

" Look who's here!! " She screamed out, even though it was barely heard due to the loud music.

" So glad you could come! " She said firstly looking at Lea and then at you. It took her 10 seconds to look at you before she commented " Obviously with a purpose! "

You laughed, smiling at her and slightly shrugging. Lea just nodded enthusiastically at her. She encourages you to give Barbara a turn, at which you initially shake your arms. However, Barbara was intrigued and kept encouraging you to do so. Giving them a mocking eye roll, you spun around with Lea holding your hand in the air.

" Well shit, you better take that ass on the dance floor. " BB clicked with her tongue.

" Oh, don't worry I will, but first I need a drink to warm up. " At your words Barbara, lead you two to the drinks, giving each of you a glass.

" In that case, drink the fuck up! "

Two and a half cups of alcohol were more than enough to make you drag yourself and Lea on the dance floor. The beat was gushing out of the speakers so loudly, you could feel it in your chest.

You completely let yourself go to the music, the freedom you were able to feel while dancing was mesmerizing. Nothing else had your focus and attention, with this addictive feeling you couldn't care less what your outfit was showing and whatnot.

Across the room, Nate was standing with his friends, as each held their cup, staring at the new girl. You.

" Fuck, who's that? " One groaned out while eyeing your body.

" Just some girl from Valley Torah High. " Nate's voice spoke as each of his friends turned to him with interest.

" Yo, Jacobs, you never told us about this one. You fucked her, right? " The same guy asked, waiting to hear confirmation. Nate looked at him quickly before, staring back at you.

" Ohhh! So where are the photos, we didn't see her yet. " Nate frowned at him, as the group of guys laughed.

" I didn't take any. " He admitted quickly. Meeting the guy's confused faces, he added. " Didn't have time. "

" I see. " The black-haired one said straightening himself up. " Well in that case we will make some. " He turned to the guy next to him, pulling out his phone and handing it to him, before deciding otherwise and giving his phone to Nate.

" I trust you will know better which angles to film. " With that, he started approaching you. Nate didn't even acknowledge the phone fully, his mind was kept on you.

The way you swayed to the song, dancing and turning. Nate had sex with you twice, firstly after meeting you at a party and the secondly when you accidentally found yourself in the same store. Expect that nothing else happened, you two barely ever talked, you knew your names but that was it.

Nate did make an effort to ask for your number, but with him getting together with Maddie once again, he didn't think of contacting you. He did, however, look at your social media, just enough to know which school you attended and who you hung out with.

Since he was on good terms with Maddie, who knows would you two ever interact again, if it wasn't for this night, that outfit, and Nate's friend.

As the guy was approaching you, Nate took the chance to look at your surroundings, seeing his girlfriend had spotted you. " Of course, she did, who fucking didn't? " He thought to himself while watching the stipes of your skirt reveal your cheeks.

The sight made him close his eyes for a second to regain his senses. The outfit was almost slutty, whorish, he thought, but yet it just made it harder for him to not start rubbing his pants.

Just before the man next to you could get to you, one of Nate's friends tried to call out to him. " Yo, you filmin' this? "

Without any hesitation, Nate dropped the damn phone, muttering under his breath " fuck this. " and fastly started making his way towards you.

His friends laughed a bit, at his reaction, waiting to see what was about to unfold. You were still in your own world when a black-haired guy spoke to you. " Hey- " not even properly starting his sentence before Nate go to him. He looked at him with a puzzled look on his face. " Thanks for borrowing me your phone, now you can go back for it, I left it with Caleb. " The taller guy said, composed and relaxed.

You stared at the two strangers, the taller one had a serious face as he spoke to the other one. " What are you talk- "

" Caleb has it. Your phone. " He cut him off, you tried to hear better what were they talking about as you leaned closer to them. The two of them just stared at each other, not matching their facial expression.

" Go. " The taller one almost whispered it to the other one's ear, who left only a second later. Just then you could recognise the man in front of you.

" Oh hey, you. Nate right? " He just nodded slowly, his eyes watching you lazily, his figure towering over you. You stared at him, awkwardly standing, feeling a bit uncomfortable since you were the only two people not dancing in the crowd.

" Come with me. " Nate said, walking away to the stairs. You followed before stopping in front of the stairs and calling after him. " For what? "

He turned to you, an annoying expression on his face, almost frustrated. " We both know why you are here, so you gonna come and get it or what? " You turned back to see Lea was drinking at the kitchen counter, before meeting your eye, you supposed she couldn't see Nate, but she knew what going upstairs meant, so with a jovial smile, she made a cheering gesture.

You laughed, acknowledging her excitement, and then followed Nate upstairs. He didn't look at the people that were there, he walked right passed them and into a room, that seemed almost fully prepared for this encounter to take place.

You went in after him, closing the door. " So you remember me? " He asked a rhetorical question. " Then you must remember what you were doing to me. " Your eyes glanced at him innocently, after all that dancing, you still felt a bit mischievous.

" I don't know Nate, am I suppose remember it? " He immediately came closer to you, almost fully, chest to chest. " You wanna play a game ha? "

" Is this what you came for? "

You preached up your lips as if you were thinking about it, locking up at him and seeing the tense position of his jaw. A lot took for you to not smile, since you knew the moment you looked down you would see how much more tension was held in his lower area. But, of course you couldn't resist to look. " Oh my. " You gasped, almost faking it. " Now I see what is stressing you out. "

Your hand automatically pushed itself on his bulge, making him bite into his lower lip. But before you could even react to that, he spun you around and pinned you on the wall. Now his covered dick almost went right into your hole, as he made the quietest groan ever.

As he held you in that position, his big hands began to rub in the inner of both of your thighs, the warmth it was creating made you push yourself into him completely out of reflex. He groaned into your ear, before sneaking one of his hands into your panties, only to rip them off you. His fingers immediately stuck themselves inside you, teasing each and every part viciously.

" Fuck, ah! " You moaned hard into the wall. He left his right hand to flick around your pussy and let his left hand reach your breasts. He easily got to them, as only the diamond stripes kept him from squeezing them firmly causing you to hiss out in a painful satisfaction.

" Fuck, yeah! Tell me how it feels. " Nate pushed his still-covered front into you, as his fingers played with your entrance, before entering into you once again.

" Oh, Nate! " You practically screamed out his name. " It feels so fucking good! " You couldn't help but drag yourself all over his pants, just wishing you could pull them down. However, your hands were more preoccupied with holding you against the wall.

" Imagine how good would it feel with my dick inside you. " At that, you whined mockingly, pushing your ass into him. This made his hand leave your pinched breasts as he smacked your ass, vividly leaving his handprint on it.

" A whore like you would, just love that, wouldn't you? " You nodded hard, making sure he had seen it. His left hand then once again made contact with your ass, slapping it to the point of full redness. His fingers still worked on you, as you felt your orgasm approaching. Nate noticed it, smirking before completely letting you go. He placed his hands on his pants, starting to pull them down. You turned to him, wishing to do it yourself, but were met with rejection.

" You better keep those hands on the fucking wall. You already fucked with me enough tonight, so I'm going to let you know how it feels. " You barely turned around, as he slipped his hard dick into you. The sudden thrust into you made you scream out in pleasure. Nate didn't even let you take a full breath in before he started pounding into you.

He thrusted more and more into you, groaning at the feeling. His hands held your hips as he fucked you. His eyes watched your ass bounce with all the diamond stripes. The diamonds glimmered and shook at each smack, creating a quite beautiful sight that was hard to look away from. It was mesmerizing him and he truly thought about how much he enjoyed this, having you against the wall, being completely at his mercy and command, he was becoming harder just thinking about it.

You hummed at his thrusts until Nate grabbed your neck and choked it." Be louder...can't hear you. " He said as he slammed his full length into you. " Mhm, I'm gonna cum! " You yelped out, squeezing his dick so perfectly. " Yeah, come on...fuck! " Nate encouraged smugly, stopping his rhyme just for a moment. " I want to see you cum on my dick. " He then slammed once again, strongly into you, as you shook helplessly.

" You wanted this all along. To get...fucked so well. And so...dirty! " Nate panted into your ear, biting on your earlobe, before relesing it. " Mhm, fuck...I like you this tight. And wet. " His left hand was left at your ass as his right one returned to your pussy. Fingers rubbing into you, before sliding in.

" Mhmm... " You moaned as tears started to come out of your eyes. " Yeah...come on! Come on my dick! " With just one merciless push into you, you released your juices all over him. Nate groaned at the feeling of wetness covering him, throwing his head back, before returning to fucking you.

" Nate! Ah! " You groaned, feeling his dick twitch. " Fuck, cum in me! " When you said it, almost breathlessly, he knew he couldn't keep going for long. It took a few more thrusts, before he too released his juices, pushing himself fully into you, back to back. He left breaths on your back, as you both calmed down and returned to your normal breathing pace.

Nate pulled his dick out of you, walked over to the bathroom, getting himself a towel and cleaning himself up.

" You still fuck good, Jacobs. I remember it. " Nate only smirked at your words, trying to not let it affect him too much. He took one towel and gave it to you to do the same.

" I still have your number. I might text you for another time. "

" We will see if you will. "

[dotster001]

Diasomnia boys with a s/o that calls them her prince charming or knight in shining armor?

(ah yes, our cutsie boys, getting the loving they deserve 😢)

CW: Fem Reader, and I have yet to fix Silver's picture. Will I ever fix it? Who's to say?

"Ah, Malleus, you're like my prince charming…"

Child of man, he has told you a million times he is a king. But how sweet that you think he is charming

He goes home to tell the funny story to Lilia. He is certain they will both have a laugh at your human mishap.

Until Lilia explains it is an endearment. It is a high compliment from one lover to another! He's so proud of his boy! Lilia is wiping a tear away as he hugs his son. He's going on and on about how he's such a proud dad, and all his children are perfect.

Malleus dips out in the middle of the speech to properly thank you for the compliment. Aka, scoop you up in his arms, and kiss you deeply.

He gets blushy, now, every time you call him that. He never really believed he'd find a happily ever after with someone, but it might just happen with you…

"Sebek! You are my knight in shining armor!"

"Of course I am, human! I have trained extensively in the art of knighthood!" Those are the words he wants to say.

"Blehsichkenchdjzn" -those are the words that come out of his mouth.

You think you broke him. He excuses himself for a moment, and as soon as the door is shut behind him you hear him scream.

He comes back in and pretends that didn't just happen. But his cheeks are awfully pink. 

Anytime you need him to shut up, or you just want to fluster him, you say it from now on. He hates the power you have over him, and he practices in the mirror, calling himself a knight in shining armor, alone, in his room.

(Silver has walked in on this three times, and may never recover)

"My prince charming…"

Well now he's awake. You'd been resting with your head near his heart, softly caressing his cheek, and pushing his hair out of his face. But that's not happening anymore.

"I'm not a prince, Y/N. I'm just a knight."

"Maybe you're not a prince of a country," you hum, "but you're my prince."

He's shy and blushy, but you grin that cute grin of yours, and he'd agree to anything you say about him.

"If I'm prince charming, does that make you my beautiful princess?"

How is he always so effortlessly smooth? He doesn't even mean to do it, he just is like that!

From here on out, whenever he is about to kiss you, he'll call you, "my beautiful princess"

"Lilia! My knight in shining armor!"

Duh. He's smug as hell. He hasn't trained as long as he has, and read as many romance novels, to just be an average lover!

He'll bow deeply, before wrapping an arm around your waist and giving you a roguish wink.

For the rest of the day, he'll feel mischievous. He'll dramatically help you as loudly as he can, because "it's a Knight's job to help a damsel in distress!"

"Fear not, fair maiden, I shall hold this door open for you!"

"My darling damsel, do not fret, this jar of pickles is no match for me!"

"I shall duel this wretch to the death for the injustice he has done upon you!" -Lilia, after Grim took a bite of your sandwich.

If you want him to stop you can…

Lmao, you're so dumb, nothing can stop Lilia 😂

[sorrelchestnut]

I've seen a fair number of posts both here and on reddit that question why Tav (or the Dark Urge) would end up as a group leader for any other reason that "game mechanics say so." There's the requisite "okay, well if you play a high charisma character I guess it makes sense," or on the other end of the spectrum, "if you're playing Durge and murder someone right off the bat everyone would be too scared to tell you no." And I get where people are going with this! I really do. But it also fundamentally misunderstands a facet of human nature, which is that the vast majority of people do not actually want to be in charge, because that means being held responsible for the outcome. Accordingly, most people will dither when a group consensus is needed: have none of you ever tried to get a group of friends to agree where to go for dinner? Yeah, it's like that, but waaaay worse.

A lot of times "leadership" is just the willingness to say, "fuck it, y'all do what you want, but I'm doing this." I see it all the time in a corporate environment, where people will go back and forth on group meetings without anyone making a decision until finally one brave soul goes "in my opinion the clear answer is x" and then everyone gratefully goes along with it. Because now it's not their responsibility when something goes wrong! They're just following along with someone else's suggestion, and maybe it works or maybe it doesn't, but at the end of the day they don't have to worry about the consequences unless they're personally affected. In which case they might step up and argue back, and then they're stuck being a leader, too. Welcome to adulthood!

Lae'zel is the only one who ever even tries to exert some kind of control, when she tells you to follow her lead on the ship, or calls you her subordinate in the Grove. But, crucially, she doesn't ever make any serious attempt to take control: you can just tell her, "lol, no," and she sort of confusedly gives way, because she doesn't know how to handle this scenario. In her world there are commanders and subordinates, and everyone knows where they stand and falls in line. She's never actually had to take control of a situation and so at the first sign of resistance she falls back on the dynamic that's familiar to her, which is executing the commands of someone older and more experienced. She goes through a lot of growth over the game, to the point that she can take over as a resistance leader in her own right by the end, but at the beginning she's a wet-behind-her-ears private with some decent combat chops and it shows.

Otherwise, your party consists of:

Shadowheart, who's trained in infiltration and assassination and does NOT want a lot of attention brought to her or her mission for a variety of reasons;

Astarion, who has literally been a slave for two centuries and canonically takes a while to realize that he can exert an opinion beyond complaining about it;

Gale, whose only friend is his cat and couldn't project-manage his way out of a wet paper bag;

Wyll, who was probably trained for command at one point but has been doing the lone-hero thing for a decade and has a very large secret that he's trying to conceal; and,

Karlach, who's only ever been a bodyguard and a soldier and is genuinely just happy to be here.

Honestly, it would be more a surprise if Tav/Durge didn't end up as their unofficial leader, given the general power dynamics at play. The first time Tav/Durge says something like, "fuck it, we need to do something instead of stand around arguing about it, let's go check out those ruins over there," it's a done deal. They're The Captain Now! As long as they don't make decisions that fundamentally oppose something dear and important to the other group members, they're not even going to get any argument. Because at the end of the day, not one of these walking disasters has enough trust in themselves and their decision-making skills to feel any kind of certainty that they can choose the right path forward. If someone else is going to take that decision out of their hands? They're going to follow, no questions asked, right up until the moment they can't.

[idontcare4urmom]

wrong || matt sturniolo

stepbrother!matt x fem!reader

summary: where your dad found a new woman on his life after one year of your mom's death,so you are forced to live all together after a lot of pressure,but what you didn't know yet is that her son is a total temping being that will send you over the edge..in many ways.

warnings: smuttt,unprotected sex,not proofread,porn with plot,dirty talk,eating out,pet-names,suggestive,scratching,tits sucking,etc.

a/n: my first language is not English,this sure has some grammar or other errors so i am sorry<3

."🎀".

"what the fuck you mean we have to move in with her?" you were basically shouting on your dad,and you weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the fact that he had moved on so far already or cause he didn't even cared to ask you if you acknowledge with it.

"i told you too many times that this is a very big and important step to me honey,besides her place is absolutely flawless,you will love it" his words only made you angrier,but you decided not to push it anymore since you knew deep down it would be waste of time,he had made his decision.

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

the days passed quickly,and you found yourself holding your suitcase in front of a captivating building that would change a part of your life for many years,at least your dad did not lie,it was trully more than luxurious,so with a deep sigh you walked until the doorway with him,your anxious levels on high.

after a few knocks the door opened to reveal a surprisingly tall,appealing woman standing there,with brunette silky highlights and a pretty good enough shaped body,the sight made you furrow although you could tell why your father had fallen for her.you were caught off guard when you were the one she even pulled into an embrace first and seemed in general eager to meet you.

"oh sweetie your dad has told me many things about you,i am Lana,come in,come in" you didn't had much time to process because she was pushing your hand gently inside,your eyes widening as you took in the house with your eyes,it was for sure bringing vibes of a cozy,modern place.

you didn't want to be in your normal pissy mood for the reason that she was treating you politely for now,so you made a small comment "wow,the decoration is really nice"

"oh thank you,i want you to be comfortable and feel welcomed here,you can go check the guest room that will be your own,is down the hall,if you need any help just call out my name" you nodded a little and began making your way towards the apparently new space you will probably spend most of the day at.

but,without realizing a sudden unrecognized human figure appeared in front of you while making it's way to another room,making you leave a small yelp from your lips "who are you?"

the blye eyed boy raised an eyebrow once he heard the question,letting a sarcastic laugh as he spoke "very ironic for someone to ask when they are the one in my house" oh? well he had sure attitude for the few seconds you had met him. you were about to say something in response even so he continued, a sheepish grin forming on his lips when he examined your presence through his dark eyelashes "wait..you must be my stepsister"

"huh?" was the only word you could express,you were incredibly confused--who was he? "i am Lana's son, Matt,no one informed you about me?" it was like he was able to read your thoughts,it only creeped you out more.

"no..my father must forgot to announce your existence to me" the words snarked out of your tongue as you were trying hard to act sassy,but for a disguise,cause shit the more you were observeting him the more perfect he got.

he had the necessary amount of beard to sense in case he ever trailed kisses down your body,his blue orbs seemed like they could stare deep into your soul yet in a enjoyable way,and hell those fingers were too distracting for no reason,especially with those silver rings that were practically begging for attention.just any of his facial features were ideal--however you weren't supposed to fall for him,it would be wrong.

you snapped out of your thoughts when there was a sound of a familiar voice snapping across the end of the hall,approaching the both of you excitedly,even though she was addresing specifically to you "i see you guys met,sorry darlin' i forgot to have a quick chat with you about that i have a kid..anyway he may be a pain sometimes but i am sure you will get along well with him"

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

two weeks have passed,and she was completely wrong.every day the urge of smashing a bottle on top of his head is only increasing,he would suddenly barg into your bedroom searching for his own belongings,asserting that he often lost things by accident since he is being here from time to time--why? his set-up pc is on your area for years now.

despite that,his own bedroom is just a few steps away from yours,you have been struggling with sleeping peacefully cause he would blast music on his speaker at 2-3 am,you are almost confirmed that he must be doing it on purpose--and it doesn't end here,there is worse.

you are aware of a guy having 'needs' so the occasional echo of moaning could be heard to you from the thin paper walls,you swear that it's music to your ears and you feel like your mind is sabotaging you.he is annoying,that though didn't stopped you from having a weird desire rising in you for him,a pang on your chest with guilt for possessing the most unholy fantasizes whenever he would roam around in just a pair of sweatpants.

with all this being said,you produced a baffling bond with Matt,signs showing that he is on the same page as you,which leads you to today.laying down on your bed with your phone on your hands,stressfully ignoring his presence a few meters away.him entirely concentrated on his screen computer playing--God knows what--video games,with the controller on his hands.the silense more than unbearable.

you were determined to prove to yourself that maybe you can spend some time with him,you took advantage of him not wearing any headphones and lightly tapped his shoulder,pointing towards the black console afterwards "can i try?" you anticipated for his response,silently hoping that he doesn't mind.

Matt was kind of surpised by your request,nevertheless he had finished the round so he nodded "umh..sure" he slid off from the gaming chair while handing you the controller,your fingers barely brushing with his yet enough to make your head spinning.

you rested your body on the mesh fabric as he sat on the bed,and with a glance of the buttons you were clueless of the task in hand,not having any idea on how to participate in the online game.luckily,he noticed the confused look written on your face so he came next to you and started to make a fast learning lesson,

he taught you how to jump,how to run,how to kill,and other features you require to have in case of a proper match.as he did so,you caught him taking a few glimpses of your chest--it's not like he could help it,your crop top was exposing a certain amount of your cleavage,making it hard for him to focus.

a devilish smile curled to your face when you noticed,feeling bold enough to adjust down the shirt such as leaving only your breasts covered--matt could feel his heart beat raising,the temperature of the room turning thick once he stopped talking.

"can you show me how to jump again? i don't think i get it" you spoke,a hint of suggestiveness leaking from your tone--and he didn't want more than just to devour you right there, your father and his mother had left for shopping,so you were both totally alone which sent shivers down your back,

the tension bloomed into a insufferable feeling between the two of you,causing your breath to hitch around your throat,especially when you felt his fingers starting to touch yours fully in attempt to answer your previous 'request'.a hushed gasp breaking out from you when there was a unexpected hand gesture tracing your thigh in a agonizingly pace--screw this.

with a smooth shift of your face and waist you palmed his cheeks,bringing his lips to yours into a fiery dance.he didn't hesitate to shove his tongue in your mouth,impatiently exploring your taste before nipping down your bottom lip,eliciting a moan from you that get's shallowed against him,

the sound you made vibrated through matt's whole body,landing directly straight to his core and he could feel his jeans growing tight around his crotch,he didn't ever remembered himself getting hard from just a making out session--he craved more,he needed more,and so did you.

his hands started travelling their way to your stomach,crawling upwards until he squeezed your nipples over the fabric of your top and reaching to lift it up, "is this okay?" you nodded desperately at the question,he didn't wasted time by taking it off over your head,unclasping with one motion your bra afterwards to shower your bare chest with open-mouthed kisses,

your hums of approval soon turned into whimpers when he wrapped his mouth on the flesh of your left breast,swirling his tongue around it while his hand pinched the other between his free fingers,he repeated his actions by giving the same treatment to your right one after.

with a loud pop he pulled away,slowly reaching under the gaming chair so he is on his knees,his eye pupils half-lidded and fluttering over your face before he yanks off your shorts with panties,exposing your already wet dripping pussy to his hungry gaze,

"fuck you are soaked,how long have you been dreaming this? have you been waiting for me to finally pleasure you sweetheart?" you could him mutter cooing through gritted teeth,licking at your thighs in a intractable speed as he itches towards the arching spot in between your legs,lavishing his attention there as he made a long stripe up on your clit,making you buck your hips against his face shamelessly,

your nails found his hair,gripping and tugging on it for support,dragging a hiss from his mouth as he began to lap on your juices like you were his last meal,you started riding his face while whining pathetically,the obsence resounds filling the room as he continued to satisfy you.

his index finger rubbed your entrance,letting you shaking for more and barely hearing his gagged whispers "you taste so fucking amazing,such an intoxicating cunt",your lower abdomen started quivering into the familiar knot,reminding you of your approaching release,making you clench uncontrollably around his mouth,

"come on,finish all over face baby" matt sneered out when he sucked on robs of your pre-cum, your lips forming a perfect 'o' shape in the same time you swirled your digits on his roots so his head is forced to be still there,with a long pornographic moan you erupted,spurting thick,white jets that made your legs glistening.

after pulling away he swooped you into his arms,carrying you bridal-style on the mattress of the bed,him laying down firstly before grasping your sides stronly,helping you to be on top of him as he guided your hips so you can push against his clothed erection,the sensation maddening for the both of you.

your still sensitive heat grinded back and forth,feeling his cock poking under you so your hands progress to tug the zipper of his jeans down,sliding them down along with his boxers to his ankles in a way of exposing his throbbing tip,you usually didn't liked how dicks looked but matt's was different; a needy tenderness to have it deep inside you,he adjusted with ease the head down your folds,and with no doubt you sinked down on his length.

a unbidden squeal slipped from you as he grunted repeatedly,his grunts turned into loud groans of pure filthiness as soon as you started bouncing yourself,your tight walls squelching him, sending him closer to the edge even though it hadn't passed a minute of you riding him,his back arching forward which gave you the opportunity of scratching down the skin of his behind shoulders,

"such a good girl,fucking yourself on your stepbrother's cock, such a whore f'me" his words actually made you feel pitiful yet encouraging your movements to speed up their pace,his hips thrusting up to meet yours so he can pound into your hole frequently, "c-close" you panted out,your second orgasm increasing through you as your walls clinged around him,the actions driving matt insane "going to fill you up,do you want that? do you want me to cum inside you?"

you miserably sobbed in bliss and let a ''hphm'' of approval,before you knew it matt had busted,his climax exploding extremely hard into your pussy,following suit after him with your head throwed back and stopping after a minute so you can pull yourself out of him,both of you being a panting mess,

"that was incredible" "i am never letting you to even enter my room again"

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

evelyn speaks!! thank you so much for 250 followers jixijcmjg,my last post with Matt got more than 800 notes likeee insane,thank you ALL for the support it means everything xoxo🤍🤍

tags! @writtensturn @pixiespax @verywonderlandpolice @itsnotmariahh @user9383738392 @monroesturnns @badussybumper @nwlluvsturnsstars17 @shadowthesim

[bibewilderedandbuck]

Buck goes out to get food or restock after a particularly rigorous ""work out"" session and it just happens to be at the same time as some idiot decides to rob the place.

Buck is kneeling down because hes looking for Tommy's favorite gatorade flavor. They have all the popular flavors at eye level but if you're looking for dark red, you have to stoop down. Homophobic, and during pride month.

He hears the commotion and of course his hero complex kicks in. But he doesn't wanna spook the guy cause he knows how he looks. Massive and buff and a firefighter and everyone at this place knows him too, he lives right down the road (or maybe the drug store is one the first level of his apartment). He goes to send a quick text to Tommy, when the guy with the gun demands all their phones. Buck gets out "911" and turns on his location. He stays low to the floor but makes himself known. Gets the gun trained on himself instead of anyone else because that's just who buck is.

The robber is getting desperate and every time bucks phone pings he gets more and more jumpy.

“Whose needy ass boyfriend wont stop blowing up their phone?”

Buck raises a shaky hand. He opens his mouth to say something but before he can get it out-

The store clerk high-fives him and tells him he’s proud of him. “It was only a matter of time, man. He went through all the women of LA and he just moved on to the men.”

A chorus of “Oooh come on!” “That’s biphobic” “ew gross” “not cool” ring out among the other hostages. Buck’s cheeks are burning. The mix of positive and negative reinforcement creating chaos in his head.

“You really should consider letting us go.” He says to the man with the gun. Buck takes a risk and stands to his full height and the other man’s eyes widen. “My boyfriend is bigger than I am. He's waiting for me and we weren’t done.” He holds up a box of condoms and the gatorade and someone hoots behind him.

It’s then that the sirens start. Someone shouts instructions through a bullhorn. Buck isn't listening, he's determined to get everyone out before himself. He calmly explains that out there is one of the most fiercely protective police sergeants he's ever met.

"And her first priority is not going to be you." Buck motions his raised hand to the other people in the store and says, "let them go and I can help you."

The voice amplified by the horn sounds more desperate by the second and when did the fucking fire department get here?

The armed man send everyone out, except buck, who he now holds in front of him with the barrel of the gun tucked snugly against his spine. Buck can feel it shiver against his skin.

"I didn't want to hurt anyone."

"I- I know," Buck says. The guy cowers behind him and he curses his height because if anyone was a fantastic human shield its Evan Buckley.

There's a new voice coming through the bullhorn now and Buck groans. Its Tommy and he's telling Buck the whole teams here and he's going to be alright. He sounds desperate and scared and Buck just wants to wrap his arms around the man and tell him its going to be OK.

"The boyfriend?" the guy asks and Buck almost laughs. He lets out a shaky breath.

"Yeah, needy right?"

"Listen man, I made a mistake. I'm in a lot of trouble but I never wanted anything like this." Buck nods. "My baby is sick and I'm broke. I just needed some cash and some formula."

Buck groans. He's too nice for his own good.

"There's an exit in the back."

"What?"

"In the back room I've seen them take in deliveries that way." He can hear the guy shuffle and then stop.

"Should I hit you?"

"What?" Buck peaks over his shoulder, the guy is half way to the door at the back of the store and still he's completely shielded by Buck's body. Seriously he should have been a bodyguard or something.

"I mean...it'll look like you just let me go?"

"This isn't a movie? I- I'm literally being held hostage, dude."

"Right." He turns away from Buck and then stops again. Buck is holding his breath. "Thanks man. I know this is fucked up and you didn't have to help me. You're a good guy."

Then he's gone.

Buck's not sure how to react. He did it, he saved everyone and himself and oddly the whole thing feels like a dream. Unreal. He walks slowly to the door of the shop and exits with his hands still in the air. Eddie is the first to hug him, barreling right into him and smacking his back into the glass of the window. He's checking over Buck for injuries and squinting inside the store and he seems confused.

"Where'd he go?"

Buck shrugs. "Went to the back and never came out."

Athena is next, she too gives him a once over, lets him know she can take his statement tomorrow and motions to the rest of the crew. They give him one resounding bone crushing group hug. Buck's warm and smiley but he still feels not here.

Finally, Tommy ambles out from behind the police car. He's thrown on a hoodie and sweats and he's vibrating on the balls of his feet. Buck see's the same expression on his face that must be reflected on Buck's. He reaches out to Tommy and Tommy clutches at him. The hug starts off timid until Buck hears a few pops in his back and Tommy is taking a deep breath in at his temple.

The world falls back into place like they've hit the bottom of a drop of an amusement park ride. His feet feel solidly on the ground and his stomach finally drops. His knees nearly buckle. At some point Buck had known he wasn't in danger, but it didn't feel that way. It felt like he was never going to talk to his family again, he would never see Hen or Eddie or Bobby...or Tommy. There is so much he wants to say but his breath is shaky and his hands won't release Tommy's shoulders.

"Do you want to be alone?" Tommy asks. Because of course he asks. No Buck has never wanted to be alone less. He feels like if he lets go of the man in his arms he's going to float into the atmosphere and dissipate. Like he's only tethered here by Tommy's hands.

"No," Buck says. He takes a grounding breath in, his chest bumping Tommy's. "I- I want to go home."