#it doesn't NEED protection from your weak creatures

[dravidious]

I think you're quite cool y'know

I have this maybe-not-exactly-fear of really big stuff. Like, the thought of a colossal Thing looming over me is like. idk. makes me uneasy? I don't know the feeling exactly but whatever it inspired a magic card. I sure hope tumblr doesn't make the image way bigger than it needs to be!

[gremlingottoosilly]

sea bunny reader who constantly clings onto monster konig? 🥺🥺

It's only natural, really. You're small and weak, you're a bottom feeder who isn't used to having predators all around you...and even if you did have someone on your tail, you'd just have to roll on your tummy and die. It's natural selection, really, one of the reasons why you were sticking to the safe, warm waters and never going to the dark depths of the ocean floor. You were just fine in your lukewarm little kingdom. Until Konig swooped in and took you away, that is. You know why he did this, it's natural - he saw a pretty thing, he took a pretty thing. There are predators about in the depths of his dwelling, and so he never lets you stray too far from the cave he keeps you in. Not like you wanted to - you're clinging to him like a real bunny, a forgotten species of clingy sea kitten who needs the warmth of his body to survive. You didn't even want to let go of him the first few times he let you swim freely, out of the cave. You'd just nuzzle your face in his chest, pushing your body closer to him and wordlessly begging him to not let go of you. There was always a tentacle or two on your limbs, carefully caressing and keeping you in place. The temperature of his territory is way too low for you, so you'd always cling to Konig in an attempt to keep your warmth. It doesn't help that he would always let you just stay in his arms, either - sometimes you're not even swimming for a second, instead opting to curl down in his arms. He is big and strong - a perfect mate, as much as your body understands that eldritch creatures and sea bunnies shouldn't actually mingle. You still open your legs for him, meowling his name ever so sweetly and carefully, letting him fuck you like a pretty helpless thing you are, clinging to him for protection. You're way too precious to swim alone, and so he acts as your protector...even in cases when he is the one you should be afraid of. It's a good thing you're actually just a tad bit dumb.

[hor3nee]

• Life •

Sukuna grappling becoming a father while you give birth.

CW/TW: GN! reader, Labour/Childbirth, Sukuna typical violence mentions, BRIEF suggestive stuff, Nothing graphic, Religious metaphors & LOTS of life/death talk, (LMK if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Sukuna x Reader

AN: Nobody dies in this fic! It's fluff-ish. (It's Sukuna and reader giving birth, as fluffy as that can be man), prequel to this Descendant fic

   Life was such a fickle thing, not that it mattered to Sukuna. He was above life, death sickness and health, beyond it, above the proper empathy to care for it. It wasn't that he didn't understand, because he did, once mortal himself, and existing on this earth surrounded by the humanity that populated on it for years as a curse, he understood. But there was no legitimate reason for it to matter to him unless he could gain from a life, there was no reason to mind it.

And by the loose, greedy and otherwise just gluttonous standards of what it meant to be a creature of 'gain' to Sukuna, you fit it to the T, your life mattered to him. Your life, it was something he wanted, no needed to maintain to be kept satisfied, if you weren't there to be by his side, he'd be left starved.

To lose such a thing, would only ignite a certain wrath inside of him.

The screams of agony that parted from your pretty little lips had his chest twisting into a feeling of irritation. He much preferred your screams of ecstasy, making you scream his name in sweet pretty moans when he bedded you. Not this, screams of something he was also the culprit of in fairness, sobbed screams of pain as your body tore to birth his child.

Sukuna enjoyed such screeches of terror, weak defeated sobs he could rip and tear from the pathetic lot of mortals he terrorized, all of whose lives served no purpose to him. The issue is, yours does serve purpose, a great purpose to Sukuna. You're always there, by his side, and when you're not, it bothers him, he's greedy, hungry for you.

Your pain only infuriates him, he doesn't like it at all, no, he loathes listening to it.

Finally, finally, it stops after what felt like torturously long, it comes to a stop. Like that, the tightness inside his chest unwrapped, Sukuna didn't think he'd ever feel relief, he wouldn't need to, he had never fought an opponent he couldn't defeat, pillaged an army that would come close to his strength there was no concerns or worry for him to have to be relieved from. Yet here he was basking in such relief. Your screams stop, now instead replaced by the bothersome cries of something much more smaller. Squeaky small wails, that of an infant. his infant.

"Lord Sukuna." A muttered voice of one of the midwives comes through the door separating Sukuna from the delivery room. The door opens to the midwives attending finishing up and then all bowing in submission, their heads hanging low as Sukuna stands by the door-frame.

"Done?" He asks, more so a statement, a demand as everything he speaks is.

"Yes-" The meek voice of a midwife responds, she not daring to look up from the floor of the delivery room.

"Then what the hell are you dimwitted fools doing? OUT." There's the slightest growl in his voice at the command, one that though slight works wonders on any who dare stand in his presence, and to which without a moment of hesitation has all the midwives scatter out of the room, rushing out with their heads low. Only one pauses to shut the door behind herself, not wanting to risk the stupidity of leaving the door open.

Now, only the sounds of a baby's cries echo in the room, the small thing wrapped, protected in a small blanket. The moment is deafening as it is loud, there are as many thoughts as there is nothing in his eyes as he stares at the small baby you held. Yes, you made his child, 9 tedious months of him practically carrying you around everywhere and it was out now.

Sukuna was, well Sukuna, he didn't bother thinking much of the specifics, but rather the obvious reality of the situation during those passing months, and didn't see a reason to. He could still sleep with you, could still have you around, could still listen to your voice speak with him in converse. Was it different? Sure, but in no way that bothered him. Cravings? The King of the Curses can provide feasts. Tired? You needn't walk, he has four arms for a reason. The bodily change? Sukuna guts humans like pigs, the size of your stomach was far from grotesque to such a demon like Sukuna.

But now, he is met with the reality, the sight, the sound the smell of the newborn babe, absolutely reeking of familiarity, a literal complete being of two halves, Sukuna and you. It's overwhelming, and not in the way Sukuna likes, not in the hedonistic pleasures he enjoys but rather overwhelming in thoughts. Thoughts as rampant as blank in his mind, fogged like he was considering all of this.

"Sukuna." A clear call of his name comes from your throat despite its audible hoarseness of exhaustion, still as captivating as always, catching his entire attention. No one can command the Sukuna, but he doesn't need to be commanded when you call for him, because it's in his full will and gratification to come to your side, which he of course does. Stepping softly to where you are laid, surrounded by stained sheets, tools and incense presumably used in aid of the birth.

"What?" His throat rumbles, a question with no particular answer aside from the obvious literal whole baby you had birthed in your arms.

"Look at them... Beautiful, aren't they?" And perhaps by the grace of a god he'd doubted existed, there was a moment of serenity now, the fog cleared from the depths of his sick mind as he gazed upon the small bundle in your arms. That was your grace perhaps, no definitely, definitely your grace, you had bore his child.

That damned sinister grin came over his face as he reached down to the infant, the large monstrously large hand of his ever so delicately traced the cheek of the little one, a comical contrast between himself and the child. For the entirety of you and Sukuna's time spent together, he had considered you the only life that truly mattered to him, and now you had created a life from the mere womb, you've given him another life he'd find true importance in.

His child's life, blessed by the sanctified arms that cradled it.

"Divine, rather." He rumbled, a short snicker leaving his twisted tongue, but laced with genuine adoration. Utter devotion to this small life, to both two lives he had found himself so graciously gifted. Of you, of his child.

[emilsendo]

Can you please make a muzan oneshot, smut with aftercare and muzan being alittle protective of m! Reader...

Thank you! <3

With pleasure I'll make this request! Take care💪🏼✨️👀

Also, I apologize for any errors in the text. I hope you will enjoy it.

_______________________________________

S!Bottom Muzan Kibutsuji

X

Dom!Top Male Reader

warnings: rough sex, brutal scene of torturing someone(Douma), mentions of betrayal, breeding, pain kink, swearing, no preparation, blood, gay/yaoi, etc.

Type: Smut

Request: ✅️

_______________________________________

It was a day like any other, everyone looked the same. You, as a rank 0 higher moon demon, AND as the husband of the demon king, had a wide reputation among demons and humans alike. However, Muzan Kibutsuji didn't treat your strength like the others, he loved you too much to care if you were powerful enough. For him, you were and are his property, which he must protect against possible threats. Mainly rivals created by your handsome appearance. But who would dare to endanger the MUZAN himself? Probably just a real suicide.

Y/N was currently walking through the forest after mercilessly killing a man from the village he was passing by. As an Upper Moon demon, he must eat quite regularly in order for his strength to remain the same or even greater. Even if he sometimes has some signs of humanity in his heart, he still doesn't care much about this feeling. He had long since rid himself of the feeling of guilt in his soul, all in order to be able to kill more effectively and faster. He is about 600 years old, has adapted to living in the body of a creature and killing those who resist his actions. Y/N remembers almost nothing from his past, except for the feeling of weakness... his heart only remembers how he felt then, not what he was like and what his life was like, did he have a family? Did he have a wife and children? Was he someone important? Nothing. Emptiness.

While listening to the sounds of nature, he heard another sound, but of feet pattering behind him and then next to him. It was as if this person was fast enough to somehow teleport. Y/N looked at them, his c/e eyes meeting rainbow ones. It was none other than Doma, who no one likes because... he's the least bit annoying.

— Hello, Lord Y/N~! How is our handsome boy? — he asked with a practiced and false tone of joy, something that was probably the reason why no one liked him. Y/N remained unfazed by his presence, but he felt a certain irritation. Doma moved in on him far too many times, as if he wanted more than a punch to the jaw.

— How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? Don't you have anything else to do? — he replied with a great show of dislike towards the demon next to him, looking at him out of the corner of his eye with his deadly gaze, which usually made every demon and human bend more than one knee. But not Doma, this type has too much of a disregard for other people's needs.

— Aww~ Ice cold as always, huh? I'm just trying to be nice to Muzan's lover~.... — he said. And his voice and facial expression were like a child who didn't get what he wanted.

—You'll be nice when you get out of here.— Y/N finally looking at the shorter man with his full perspective. However, instead of an answer, he received a kiss, which shocked him. He automatically pushed him away and punched him in the jaw hard enough to tear off half his face, staining his hands with blood. Doma looked at him with a strange look, maybe if his face was intact it would look better... The man smiled slyly as if he was proud of what he had done, lightly touching his newly regenerated jaw.

Muzan won't be happy with the fact that his "property" has been touched and Y/N knows it, which is why he felt a slight twinge in his stomach from the stress. Because he'll get hurt too.

—Who the fuck are you? — a deep and loud voice asked, while the sounds of limbs and bones being torn to shreds echoed throughout the room. The muzzled hand was tearing apart Doma's body, and Doma was not reacting much to any of these harms. The brunette's blood-red eyes scanned the demon in front of him, who was kneeling.

—How dare you disregard my order? How dare you TOUCH something that belongs to me? — he grabbed the blonde by the forehead, his claw drilling a hole in the skull. He then caused his cells to slowly melt Doma's body.

Upper Rank 2 began bleeding from the inside, choking on a red substance. Pulsating, almost purple veins appeared on his skin.

—I should kill you....But you are a useful demon because of your loyalty. However, one more move like that... and I will personally expose you to the sun.— Muzan threatened, letting his brother go free.

—Muzan....I'm sorry, honey. I had no way to react to protect myself from Doma's kiss... I didn't expect it. - you whispered, your voice sounding completely different because of the way the veins that carry Muzan's blood tightened around your weave. You were in a kneeling position in front of your husband, who was sitting on a chair, his chin resting on his hand and his eyes down on your apologetic form. He had you like this for a while now, letting his anger out on you.

—.....— Muzan closed his eyes and then stopped controlling his cells, letting you breathe. His gaze moved to the side, ignoring you. You could see from a mile away that he was still pissed at you.

The moment you gained access to breathing again, you gasped. Coughing heavily from the dryness in my throat and the lack of oxygen. But you didn't have time to feel sorry for yourself, you had to console Muzan somehow, before he will kill useful demons.

You stepped closer to Muzan, resting your head on his knee.

—I love you, you know?— you said, knowing that this sentence would calm Muzan down instantly. The man finally looked at you, his gaze still as cold as ice. But his eyes became less wild, clear evidence that he had calmed down. His hand gently grabbed your chin, stroking it lightly with his thumb.

— I know. I love you too, you're like a toxin that makes me sick. But it is also very....addictive.— Muzan pulls your body up by your hand, he also stood up. Making you both switch positions, where this time you are sitting and he is kneeling.

— However, I want you to make me realize this by fucking me.— he said with a smirk. His tone was seductive and his eyes were filled with lust and horniness. Your member twitch at that sight, you couldn't resist your husband's "request", when it was clearly what you desired too deep down. Before you answered, Muzan already was working your pants off, he rip them off to be honest. Exposing your big and hard length that he loves so much, his tongue licks his lower lip, getting ready to the delicious taste he will have on it by a few seconds.

He opens his lips wide, already trying to deepthroat your dick with his tight canal. Making you hiss from pleasure and tighten your grip on the chair, claws digging into the wooden furniture. Your King sucks every good spots, pulling away for a while to spit on your cock to make it more wet. His tongue lick your tip, kissing it passionately as if making out with it, before going back down to your shaft. Licking up and down, massaging your balls and squeezing them from time to time. Making your head be on cloud 9 and resisting the urge to fuck your husband's throat. He wets your cock so good that it made such a sloppy sounds that made Muzan's mind go crazy, he only wants you to rile him like the last whore and then shower with affection. That's why he grabbed roughly your wrist and put it on his head, signaling you to control his movements.

You didn't waste any time in making him choke and gag all over your large cock, you could feel his nails pressing into your skin on thighs from pleasure and the feeling of your rough treatment. The feeling of a colossal hand gripping his hair, that clearly belong to you made his own dick almost cream his pants from excitement. And when you finally came in his mouth, he swallowed it eagerly like a treasure. His lips all red and swollen from sucking and having his mouth filled with something so thick.

— Take my clothes off. Now.— he damanded, but his voice sounds so needy and almost desperate. While he tried to mask it by cleaning your dick off from the rest of cum. You pull him on your lap with one move of your arm, making him gasp a bit. Before you took off his whole clothes, your gaze fixed on his expression that showed a pure lust. Muzan's mouth instinctively wrap itself around your fingers, wetting them as if he knows by the look on your face what you want him to do.

— Good slut.— you said with a smirk and satisfaction, even if your husband doesn't seem to like this nickname. (He feels butterflies in his stomach but his mind refuse to accept it)

— I am NOT a slut.— he said with serious tone, sounding a bit stern.

— Then I'll have to prove you wrong. Cause sluts like you can take cocks like mine without preparation.— You said, making Muzan look at you in confusion and he understood in a second what you meant.

— Oi, no!— he tried to protest in panic, his eyes widen, a loud scream from pleasure and pain left his mouth as you slam your cock inside him with one, smooth move. You groan at the tightness around your cock, it almost felt like it's sucking you inside.

— Don't cry, honey... I know you like it. Good slut-husbands like you are experts in satisfing your beloved.— you whisper in his ear, wiping his tears off from his cheeks. You looked at his expression that was a mix of pleasure and pain, his teeth clenched from the feeling of you deep inside him, touching his prostate with the tip of your cock.

Muzan was quiet for a few seconds, before he chuckles from esctasy and his red eyes fixed on you. He tighten his gummy like walls around your member to tease you and motivate you into fucking him.

— Of course.....I'll take care of your crotch like a good husband slut.— Muzan's lips kissed your face, starting with you forehead and ending at your lips. He really do love you for agreeing for you to call him this way....

Next thing he knows was you making him bounce like a desperate bunny on your dick, making sloppy sounds from going in and out of his entrance. The sounds of his loud moaning, mewling and your grunts and groans spread all over his office. Muzan's hair were messy and wet from sweat. His eyes unfocused. His sharp nails digging intl your shoulders. His legs shaking. His walls clenched and unclenched from pleasure and overstimulation. You hit his prostate over and over again, making him wanna cry to heavens.... or to hell.

Suddenly, you stand up with him in your arms, surprising him a bit as he got placed on his desk with legs spread. His back met the surface of the wooden furniture, he pants like a dog as he watched you put his legs on your shoulders, making your balls made a contact with his ass. He whimpers from that feeling.

— Fuck me.....Fuck your slutty husband.....fill me with your heirs and have the satisfaction of owning the King of demons~— Muzan said with a smirk, chest going up and down from breathing hard. That words went straight to your cock, twitching inside your lover. Your gaze like a predator, as you move oncr again. Hips snapping back and forth hard and deep, as if you were seriously trying to make him pregnant or break. He grip onto the edges of his desk, almost destroying it with his demonic strength. The pre-cum made it easier for you to go in and out of his warm and wet ass. His entrance sucked you greedy in, as if not planning for you to leave it.

— Such a good slut for me, huh? Your tiny hole seems not to want me to let go.— you said between moans, rubbing his pale waist in your hands.

— Uh-huh.....Haah...haaah...haaah...Not let go....haah...HAAH....HAAHH...— he said dumbly, without thinking twice before saying it. Feeling stupid from esctasy.

Hours passed, it was already morning and you two only just done having sex. You slip your cock out of his hole, making the cum drip from Muzan's ass. You looked at your dear husband that you spent your whole life as a demon. Admiring his appearance that looked so messy. It's kinda sad that the marks you left regenerate faster than you blink...But you still felt satisfaction, because you owned THE Muzan Kibutsuji.

— Very well, Y/N......you kept me satisfy.— Kibutsuji said, his voice breathless but his gaze intense. He pulls you towards him with strong grip, making you lay on top of his body. Rubbing your back and head with his hand.

— But you have to make me a bath with rose petals.— he demand, looking down at you with a smile. You snuggle against his chest, squeezing his nipples between your fingers. Making him glare at you.

— Control yourself. I want bath.—

— Hehehe....— you laughed nervously.

[lees-chaotic-brain]

For You (Gojo x Reader)

What if you were sealed instead of Gojo?

CW: Shibuya Incident spoilers, angst, not canonically accurate (just roll with it for the plot it doesn't have to make complete sense), swearing, so much angst

Part Two | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

Gojo knew that you were strong. He wouldn't have fallen in love with you out of fear if he didn't trust completely in your ability to return to him.

But that was before.

Before the shell of someone the two of you once knew and loved appeared.

Before he allowed himself to be distracted for a split second.

Before you noticed what was happening and shoved him out of the way.

Before you stood in front of him, hands bound behind your back, body rendered immobile.

"Well, this is an interesting development."

Not-Suguru clapped his hands together.

"Oh well, this will do too. Actually, we just managed to nab the strongest's only weakness: his love."

"Who are you?"

You snarl, glaring at your former friend.

"Why, I'm Geto Suguru. Don't you remember me? I'm wounded."

"Bull. Shit."

All Gojo can do is stare blankly at you, and pray that this isn't happening. That one of his worst nightmares isn't playing out in front of him.

"I know damn well that Suguru would never go out of his way to hurt us. He may have hated non-sorcerers, but even at the end he held no hostility towards us. So I'll ask you again. Who are you?"

"Satoru."

Gojo jumped a little, but quickly smoothed his expression over as you used one of your techniques to communicate telepathically with him.

"You need to run."

No! He wanted to scream. There has to be another option.

You continue taunting and yelling at the creature inhabiting your friend's body, and Gojo realizes that you are desperately stalling for time.

"Listen, I know you don't want to. But right now, you can't do anything for me without putting yourself in serious danger. I'm expendable."

Not to him, you aren't. For you, he would tear apart the world with his bare hands. For you, there wasn't a risk he wouldn't take. He has to find a way out of this. For you. Because there was no world where you were fucking expendable to him.

"You need to run! Now! I don't know how much time you have, but I know you can make it outside. You are the strongest after all. Run. Regroup with the others."

He knows that what you are saying makes logical sense, but he still can't wrap his mind around it.

Then you spoke again.

"No one should be allowed to take youth away from young people. That's what we agreed, right? So go. Do it for our kids. Protect their youth. For them. For our dream. For me."

Quietly, oh so quietly, he says something.

"I'm scared."

He admits, so quiet you can scarcely hear him.

"I'm not."

Your tone is gentle and loving.

"You aren't abandoning me forever. This is only temporary. I know that no matter what happens, you will get me out of here. Not because you're the strongest or anything. Because you love me, and I love you. And nothing can keep us apart, 'kay?"

Moving as much as your restraints would allow you, you turn your head the tiniest bit so you can look at him.

"Go. Go save our kids. I believe in you. I'll see you soon my love."

Holding back tears, Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive did the unthinkable.

Turning away from you and speeding up and out of the train station was the hardest thing he ever did, and will ever do.

But he did it.

For your many (unofficially) adopted children.

For your shared dream.

For you.

Always for you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

This physically pained me to write, but it was taking up WAY too much of my brain space lol. Let me know what you think, and feel free to send in any requests you have!

[lady-boketto]

Gyomei Himejima General Headcanons (Sfw/Nsfw)

a/n: I hope i did this right but anyway, I have a lot of ideas but i don't really know how to right them out and his is my first time actually drumming up the courage to post anything lmao but after writing this I had a lot of fun and actually feel more confident in writing headcanons but let me know what you think! :)

SFW (Safe for Work)

Gyomei is a man who is very in tune with his feelings, so he's very attentive to your emotions and when you're not feeling quite like yourself so he likes to help you out when you're not feeling well or when you ask him to hold you, he always welcomes you into his strong arms with a warm smile on his face

when someone comes to confide in him, Gyomei is more of the type of person to listen to your problems or stories that you want to tell him than he is at trying to come up with topics or solutions to talk about but he will comfort you with ressasuring words if he feels like you need it and always has a warm smile on his face when you approach him

Sometimes when Gyomei has time to himself to relax and unwind in his own space it is often interrupted by someone (his comrades or you, his beloved) not that he minds at all at their presence he actually welcomes them as he found with time that the people around him naturally gravitate towards him and tend to be comfortable enough to share stories with him which he's more than happy to listen and be engaged in anything they might say, Gyomei suspects it might be due to the mixture of his large stature and calm demeanor that people naturally feel that they are protected and puts those around him at ease

Due to people casually coming and talking to him, Gyomei is a bit of a gossip and likes to know things but doesn't really do anything with the information, he doesn't like to start drama or be around it, he would rather be spending time at home with you, he'd take a seat in the lounge area and when he has made himself comfortable he'd raise his hand out to gesture for you to come and sit with him so he can tell you all the stories he has collected since you last spoke with a wide grin on his face

He may be blind but that doesn't mean that he is completely useless, in reality Gyomei has learned how to compensate for his short comings in a way that makes the people around him forget that he is even blind

tries to hide how amused he is when you forget that he is blind (ex. when you try to show him something interesting or when you comment on how dark the room is)

he loves it when the both of you have the time to relax and enjoy each other's company, especially the warm afternoons where he can sit in the grass without a care as you are relaxing peacefully in his lap, reading out loud to him the book that you picked up from the markets while he was out on his last mission.

also there are days where he likes to sit outside ( by himself or with you) and play his shakuhachi ( it's like a flute but sounds so majestic lol) , he doesn't know a lot of songs but likes to play notes and find which ones sound good together and plays little random tunes ( sometimes he makes up lyrics to go with the melody but most times its just meaningless tunes)

Gyomei has two weaknesses and that's: you and cats. It's a struggle for him to balance the two but with persuasion ( he secretly likes to be complimented and hugs, especially when you hug his arm) he will choose you with little to slightly moderate regret to the stray he saw on his way home from his meeting with the leader and the rest of the hashira.

Gyomei especially has a fascination with the maine coon cat breed not only because they are one of the biggest breeds of cat but because they are rather social creatures like Gyomei himself, they don't mind spending time around other people. He also finds it very funny when he get to spend time with a maine coon cat and he feels them softly making biscuits on his haori when he's trying to pet the other cats or talking to you

NSFW (Not Safe for Work)

Gyomei likes to praise you in bed so that he can feel the heat rise from your skin under his large hands

not really the one to risk getting caught doing anything other than kisses on the cheek or a loving embrace in front of others

there's a whole another side behind close doors and in your shared space, he becomes more desperate for your touch and especially loves it when you roam you hands down his chest and shoulders, he blushes and softly sighs when you pay more attention to his thighs ( lightly moans if you lightly drag you nails down his mid thigh)

Gyomei's ears are very sensitive and likes to hear your voice (has a thing for your voice) so he enjoys every little noise you make for him, it ties a knot in his stomach when you lowly whisper in his ear how much you desire him and he more than happy to comply to your wants

Another area that is sensitive for Gyomei is his neck and collarbone, he can't help but squirm and firmly hold you by your waist as you are on top of him and attacking his neck with kisses and bites

The one thing he doesn't mind other people seeing is the love bites you (or hickies) leave on his neck because most people that he talks to are actually too anxious to tease him about them when they catch the sight of them peeking out of his uniform, but little do they know he knows what they are nervous about because although he can't see the chain of marks you've left, he smirks to himself as he body shivers with the slight sting of pain when he traces his fingers over his neck as he remembers your touch

Gyomei likes to rely on his other senses to please you in the bed room and due to not having the proper time to go out and meet people it has left him a little touch starved so he loves to use his mouth on your body

He wants nothing more than to kiss your body on the parts you are most sensitive to and tell you how much you brighten his world by being in it and telling you how lucky he is to call you his lover while his hands are working to bring you closer your desire of coming undone in front of him

He is a bit embarrassed to admit to you but loves to use his mouth on your chest and moans like crazy when he has one of your nipples in his mouth, also likes to feel up your hips and thighs as he works his mouth on your chest

Gyomei's favorite places to kiss you are your lips and inner thighs because he secretly love how needy and how vocal you get for him (it makes his chest swell with a sense of pride and wants nothing more than to hear you praise him more so he can do his best for you)

He doesn't like to use his full strength on you in fear of hurting you in some way, unless you specifically ask him so to do or that you managed to work him up so much that he can't control himself and has to set a boundary to show you who is in charge of the current situation by sneaking up behind you with a firm press of his hips to your behind or when his hands find their way to your neck to put a light pressure, warning you to behave for him or else he'll have to use drastic measures on you if you dare to test him further)

if you'd let him if would love to cum inside you, he likes it when you beg for him to cum inside you (the heat of the moment makes the both of you blush like crazy) especially Gyomei because he doesn't stop thrusting his hips until you're both coming down from the high of the moment (he loves to feel you spasm and eventually relax against his body)

Gyomei always makes sure to take care of you after you are both done, he's amazing at massages (he's very good with his hands) and will clean you up or run the bath for you with your favorite soaps and scented oils or he will gladly get you a glass of icy cold water with the small ice cubes that are so easy to crunch with your teeth (whatever you want or need, Gyomei is ready and willing to serve your every need)

[eowynstwin]

Obviously if your asks aren’t open then feel free to disregard this- (love your work btw I just- I cant- 🥰)

Do you think they keep the dog tags *ON* during sex? How do you think they’d wear them during it? Would they have you wear them?

You don’t HAVE to answer for each individual character obviously if you would rather just do it as a whole or just one that’s fine! Whatever works for you 💕

*cracks knuckles* I’ll do ‘em all. (Sorry for the long post, I’ll put it under a readmore when I get home 🙏)

Do the Tags Stay on in Bed?

Ghost wears his tags because, like the mask, they just don't ever come off. He is two people when he is with you--Ghost is the creature that can protect you, that can do the things Simon Riley would have been too weak for when it comes to your safety. But Simon is the man that could have loved you properly. Simon is the man Ghost believes could make you coffee in the morning, could rub your neck at the end of a long day.

It isn't initially why he wears his tags when he fucks you, but it is now--Ghost holds you in an iron grip, looms over you as he thrusts into you hard enough to bang the headboard against the wall, and feels the tags with a dead man's name clink against his chest. They remind him that you deserve whatever is left of the man who would have been far better for you than Ghost ever could be.

Soap wears his tags fully out of pride. The SAS is his life, is a massive part of his identity, and while he knows not every mission he's sent on is wholly for the good, he holds onto his conviction to act with integrity and compassion no matter what. The SAS might not always do good, but he will, as much as he can.

He wants you to be proud of him, too--he's really doing it all for you, after all. When those tags hang between you as your legs are wrapped around his waist, as they come to rest on your chest when he leans down to kiss you, he wants you to know that when he wears them he's thinking of you.

Gaz has no preference, but more often than not they stay on because he forgets to take them off. Usually, it's because the moment you're both free with enough time to actually have sex, he isn't going to bother with silly things like getting completely undressed--he wants you, now.

So, they've whacked you in the face a couple times as the two of you have gone at it. It's too funny to get mad at, and Gaz always uses it as an excuse to "make it up to you." Sometimes he'll take them off, too, and put them around your neck instead. "Keep 'em safe for me, eh?" he says with a grin.

Price takes his tags off. Over 20 years of service have left him wanting something that exists apart from violence and bloodshed, and every moment he spends with you is that something. He doesn't want to be the Captain with you, not unless he has to be--putting his tags aside gives him permission to just be John with you.

Besides, they'd get in the way. John does his very, very best to please you, to satisfy you beyond any expectation you may have of him, and sometimes that leaves you needing to bite down on his neck to keep from screaming. You’d probably not prefer to break a tooth on the tags’ chain.

Alejandro also takes his tags off, although it’s less about keeping work and pleasure separate and more about the annoyance they can be. When he is with you, Alejo is focused wholly on you, and does not appreciate distractions of any sort. He doesn’t want to have to fling his tags around to get them out of the way, or let them hang to be caught on an errant foot or wrist.

He does, however, love to see you wear them. It’s totally a possessive thing, but in the best way—Alejo worships the ground you walk on, and seeing his name around your neck inspires the same awe usually reserved for the divine. He thinks you could have anyone you wanted, and is humbled daily that you continue to choose him.

Rudy doesn’t care either way if the tags are on or off, and if the topic ever comes up he leaves that up to you. It’s an attitude that is very in-character—Rudy’s satisfaction comes from ensuring that you are satisfied, no matter what. Rudy’s love language, hands down, is acts of service.

Similarly to Alejo, however, he does enjoy seeing you wear his tags. “They belong to you anyway, mi vida,” he’ll tell you, lining your neck with gentle kisses. “All of me does.” (He has been known, however, to forget where he puts them if they do come off. So it’s probably better if they stay on.)

Bonus: Valeria gave hers to you a long time ago. She asks very frequently to see them, to make sure you keep them with you at all times. She promised herself she would never, ever carry their weight again, but she also can’t quite bear to throw them away, so now they stay with the only person in the world that she trusts.

If you wear them to bed, it will inspire a frenzy in her that will leave you limping the next morning. Those tags are a past version of her, a version she emerged from like a snake shedding its skin. While she is never sure how to feel about that previous self, seeing you take care its vestiges satisfies an ache in Valeria that she will never acknowledge.

Bonus: Graves has mixed feelings about his tags overall, being that he is technically not required to wear them anymore. They don’t mean the same thing to him now that they used to. That doesn’t mean they aren’t always on him, of course—he keeps them tucked into his boots. So you never see them.

If you were to ever find them, bring them into the bedroom? It could go one of two ways. On the one hand, you could end up benefitting short-term from the frustrated agitation those tags inspire, with Graves using your body to relieve an old, invisible hurt you never knew about. He will withdraw from you afterwords, though, too caught up in himself to really connect with. On the other, he could just withdraw immediately, recede from you, and the tension of that encounter will linger for days. It’s best not to involve his tags at all.

[banj0possum]

Hello, I'm the person who requested the yandere orc and I just wanted to say I loved it! At the end of that request I said I would ask for minotaur if you didn't do orc. But I still want to request yandere minotaur because I am a big fan of how you write yandere stuff. So can you please write yandere minotaur x reader.

(I would like it if the minotaur was just a hunk of muscle that no one would dare mess with, but becomes putty for reader. If you have another idea, use it!)

Flowers For My Cleric

Yandere! Minotaur x GN Reader

Edit!! Nsfw content removed! Replaced with some extra fluff!!

🌾 Ashvan was a part of a clan of warriors, ones that are feared and respected for their strength and brutality throughout the land.

🌾 He's seen fighters of all kinds from the biggest orcs and golitaths to the smallest goblins and kobalts. He's seen almost everything and everyone on the battlefield.

🌾 But nothing prepared him for you.

🌾 You looked so small and soft compared to everyone else. So out of place from the rough and tough warriors with bodies decorated in scars and tattoos.

🌾 It was during a welcoming feast that he first met you. You were the newest member of the clan and everyone welcomed you warmly.

🌾 He asked one of his close friends what your deal was and he learned that you were supposed to be their healer.

🌾 Vibrant music played in the tavern, but all he could see and hear was you and your adorable little laugh.

🌾 Your smile shined like the sun and your movements were so graceful and soft.

🌾 You went around meeting everyone, occasionally healing a fresh wound or two until he came face to face with you in all your glory.

🌾 "H-hi.."

🌾 "Hi!.."

🌾 He's almost crumbling at the sight of you. It's the first time he's ever been nervous.

🌾 Never before has he felt such a feeling, not even when he was facing the deadliest foes. How is a big and tough minotaur like himself shaking at the feet of such a gentle creature?

🌾 You start to laugh awkwardly the more he just kept staring at you. You pat his arm comfortingly before moving on to greet the rest of the clan.

🌾 It felt as if he was touched with the finest silk!

🌾 You'd run into him quite often while in the clan. You'd see him laughing with his friends with confidence and pride in his walk, but the moment you say hello, he'd be reduced to a stuttering babbling mess trying to say hi back. His friends would have to bring him away from you so he won't embarrass himself further.

🌾 "O-oh! Hello cleric! W-we were just uh..going to spar, you can join us if you want..b-but you don't have to! I mean you're probably busy but I would love to have you there..n-not to spar though! I mean you can..but you can watch..I-I'm not calling you weak or anything! You probably can take care of yourself pretty well, b-but if you ever need anyone to protect you, you know..o-only if you want to-"

🌾 He follows you around sometimes, pretending to be doing something else like carrying around some supplies or sharpening his weapon. When you turn away, he would have a lovesick smile on his face.

🌾 If you catch him staring, he'd panic and try to hide behind a barrel or crate, doesn't really help that he's a large minotaur. You'd giggle at the sight of a tall and fearsome creature hiding from you as best as he could with his tail and horns peeking through the crate.

🌾 "M-me? Hiding? Noooo! I-I don't need to hide! I-I'm a warrior!..heheh.."

🌾 His friends would try to help him out, telling him advice that may or may not work. I don't think gifting your crush the head of your enemies is pretty romantic though...

🌾 You would be fixing up your medical supplies when you feel a tap on your shoulder, you turn around and Ashvan would be towering above you, shakily offering you a small, sort of roughed up bouquet of wild flowers in his large cloven hand.

🌾 Some of the stems look a bit bent and most of their petals have fallen off, but it's cute either way.

🌾 "C-Cleric! I uhm...found these uhm..flowers and uh..thought of you!..Well they're small and cute..n-not saying you're small! I-I mean you are because I'm bigger and stuff and uhm...j-just take them.."

🌾 You giggle and thank him, taking the flowers from him. He huffs out from his snout as your hands touch. As you take the flowers from him, he grunts, nodding as he awkwardly walks away.

🌾 As soon as he's out of sight, he's giggling like a little schoolgirl at the thought of you liking his gift, he's going off to get more flowers for you if you don't mind.

🌾 He might confuse normal plants he finds cute as flowers, so you now have a vase full of yellow wheat he got from a field one day.

🌾 The first time he was sent to be healed by you was like being in heaven. He watched you closely as you gently healed the gash on his chest as if it was a seam on a fabric.

🌾 He took the time to study your face, how you stuck your tongue out or pursed your lips when you concentrate, or the way you ghost your delicate fingers over his rough skin, it took a lot not to swoon as you touched his chest.

🌾 "You're uhm...very good with your hands! hahah.."

🌾 Yes he steals your clothes, and its ok because you have more anyway that he'll also eventually steal...

🌾 He would get hurt on purpose to see you again and be touched by you, going to bed that night and fantasizing about you coddling and cooing over him. Hey! Even a big burly minotaur wants to be treated right!!

🌾 But for now, he's just a shy and nervous bull man who adores you from far away <3

[r0-boat]

Whb Omegaverse AU headcanons

Reader is an omega for this specific post! Because all of you are bottoms/j

Nsfw

Cw: dubcon heavy dubcon, implications of noncon, Omegaverse dynamics.

Oh no

Being an omega in whb is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. You already need demon cum to survive now you just need demon dick to survive your heat. I don't think all devils and hell are just not going to take advantage of you during your heat where your vulnerable and wanting.

Devils are in a weird middle ground where they are neither Alpha, Omega nor Beta But the same time all of them. It's weird because they have a completely different scent that feels like an alpha however can also have a calming scent as an omega. They have Alpha ruts and Omega heats. And they can mark anyone as their mate as they please. They can have multiple mates but a lot of devils only choose one.

To prevent you from getting mated you have to put on a indestructible bite proof collar. It has the power to withstand Lucifer with his vampiric teeth so I think you're safe. Especially because demons have sharper teeth.

Fear for your safety in Abaddon. Like never go outside without your heat suppressants it's not like that will really work because devils will still smell you even with suppressants. And only Kings can withstand the scent of a delicious human in heat. Other devils even sometimes nobles are weak to the scent. Good luck protecting yourself when one of them is in that rut. I guess you're only other option is just always have a trusted devil with you when you go outside.

By the way demon ruts are far more intense than human Alpha. Like I'm talking fighting in the street. Starting brawls in Bars. Yes Kings can hold back when they can smell you in heat but that doesn't mean they do. They're demons, and that means extra devil energy for you. :) You're done for.

Demons from Abyssos and Abaddon are the only exceptions if they sense that you're in heat they becomes a feral animal, hell bent on marking you. You better run from Beel and Bael

Bael is an interesting case. To appear kingly he tries so hard to reject the animalistic drive to pounce on you. And he actually tries to avoid you. Until he can't take the tightness in his pants anymore.

Beel will break into your room through the window to have his way with you like the creature of the night he is.

The Kings start a passive aggressive war on each other by scenting. At first it was just a way to protect you and ward off angels. Then Levi the last meeting scent it you right in front of Satan Even though he just did that, Levi even went the extra mile making sure he covered up every spot Satan scented. The next time you ever visit him he will make sure you REEK of his scent.

On a lighter note I'm pretty sure everything would be so endearing to you when you're starting to nest. Demons would send you gifts of the finest material to make into your nest. To any devil it would be an honor to add his clothing into your nest because you just simply think They smell good. Even though you'll try to nest and secluded spot You're a little nesting spot will be found out and protected like their lives depended on it. Driving away any other devils that are too persistent or angels also drawn to your scent.

Devils with strong provider instinct like mammon would be worsen during the heat. These devils are the ones giving you gifts. Especially food.

Satan is growling and barking being your little guard dog. Anyone touches you They are dead. He inspects any gifts you are given. Beel it's already in your nest (He's ready when you are) Levi is about to bust a blood vessel just about to throw all these demons out. He knows that you need to be alone and only you can decide who can come in to your own nest (a rare moment of clarity for Levi?!)

Lucifer is trying so hard to hold back to your pheromones. Angels can smell them but they cannot feel the pull of your irresistible scent. Now that he has a fallen angel and the devil He is not quite used to smelling you. And he is trying to resist.

Minhyeok is an alpha, and he's been getting by on his ruts by just running into the stuff that smells like you, your underwear your dirty clothes, That damn chair. Now that you're gone he's starting to go through shampoo and lotion you use. Ruts are getting harder and harder to go through and he needs you so bad. Before you were taken to hell He always subconsciously thought you were his omega even though he hasn't mated you yet. Since you always smelled like him which he liked because deterred alphas.

[just-some-user-hunny]

Something something, stag/deer coded knight Simon riley, because that characterisation is just speaking to me.

There's this gritty wilderness to him that's unlike a predator- he's not made of snarling jaws and frosted black fur that creeps and stalks, keening to sink his teeth into anything he deems tasty. He's something else- something just as enduring and strong. Something that survives in this cutthroat existence, despite being something that can be perceived as prey.

He's made of muscle and height and jagged antlers. Sharp keen eyes, and a stare that sees through walls. Listening. Watching. Observing for danger to fend off. His strength is silent. All he needs to do is stand in a room and command with his eyes and stance, and onlookers will fall meek. He doesn't even seem like a man- more like a creature from the woods, one that parents would warn their children of to stay away if they want to stay alive. The way he intensely stares with his dark doe eyes and stands tall as if he were bearing a breast of muscle and bone and soul of something old and wise beyond his years.

He'd always shedding velvet, shedding skin, shedding weakness and identity. Losing parts of himself to become anew- become something that can serve something more than just desire. Purpose.

He was once a little spindly legged fawn. Freckled and small, fluttery blonde lashes and wide black eyes. Always stumbling and coping- pushed to the back of the group and dismissed, left to fend for himself. Cast aside to survive in this harsh world that devours anything meek and soft. No longer a little fawn that scrapes by to survive. Now he's the trees that he once looked up at with awe and fright and wonder. All imposing height. Towering and formidable- proud and stoic and unwavering. Moody and territorial and righteous by his own means.

He grew out of his meek body and thin skin and tearful eyes to be something that could protect you- to be the thing he needed to be- no, wanted to be.

He doesn't blame you for not recognising him, sweet thing. It was so long ago. You couldn't possibly guess that the forgotten little doe that once shyly approached you in that barn all those years ago is now your formidable protector who bestows the grace and brute strength of a stag now. Rough and grizzled and bloodied.

Maybe once he's content with playing this little guessing game by giving you glances and gentle passive looks, he'll tell you who he is. Watch your face fall in awe and shock, maybe a little fear, and then finally into something akin to happiness.

There's no reason to fear anymore. He did it, like he said he would... He said he'd look after you, didn't he? Now he can.

[scary-lasagna]

oh oh oh!! Yandere proxies with a darling who, in the escape attempt, damages the proxy marking thing?

If a marking is damaged, it still relays a weak signal. Lesser creatures won't be able to detect it, but higher beings will. But damn, is it painful. It's a direct link to Slender, and then it's severed, it's disobedience. Disobedience is punished.

Masky

It was a knife, the very weapon used against you to subdue your 5th escape attempt.

You were a fighter, and that's why he wanted you.

That's why he adored you.

But damn. You could really pack a smart faced punch when you needed to.

He was on top of you, with the handle of his knife between his teeth, struggling to fist both of your wrists at the same time. And in a quick motion, you snatched the knife, chipping his tooth in the process, and swiped down on the shoulder of his jacket.

He screamed, completely blacking out in pain and clutching his shoulder. You managed to quickly scamper away as Masky starts heaving and collapsing on the ground, spots clouding his vision from the pain alone.

You didn’t waste time pushing yourself off of the bloody grass, and almost slipped as you ran into the brush of the forest.

Time seemed to escape you as you pounded your way through the forest, not caring where you went as long as you were keeping distance from Masky, who was hopefully still writhing in the ground in pain and regret.

But then you came to the conclusion that you were lost. You didn’t know how long you’ve been in the woods, how many times you’ve passed the same tree (or at least you thought it was), and why it seemed like something was following behind you.

It might just be a squirrel, right? But no, foolish [Y/N] this is the Black Forest, there are no harmless squirrels. Any creature in here following a cute little human like you has no good intentions to your health.

You didn't even have time to react to your quick, painless death of a snapping neck.

Hoodie

Hoodie is usually a bit more smarter than this, he knows how to protect his weak spots, unlike Masky who tends to act on reckless anger.

It was only a simple scratch as you flailed under his grip, consistently dragging you by your ankles and eventually the rim of your pants, which you quickly learned was an easy handle that he enjoyed dragging you around with.

A game of cat and mouse can only go on so long before the mouse gets eaten. Freedom was only steps away into that dark forest, you didn't care if you could find your way out, because you'd have a better chance of survival against the elements and beasts rather than with this complete psychopath.

But a measly little scratch, just enough to draw blood was enough to drag him down.

He was more fortunate than the others, getting by with only a scratch that felt like a hot, molten nickel erupting from the wound.

Hoodie's grip released, and you quickly freed yourself, scrambling away while he hunched in pain, screaming through his gritted teeth.

Hoodie's body was entirely tense, focused on the sheer amount of pain wrecking his body in wave after wave.

You almost paused to stare at the sight, not quite sure if it was a trap or not. He tended to trick you with little tests.

But you tested fate that day, and sprinted into the forest, letting him watch helplessly as you faded into the brush.

Toby

tw: seizure

Toby doesn't feel pain, but magic will not let a bad deed go unpunished no matter the circumstance.

In Toby's eyes, you only needed a little coaxing to stay still while he attempted to shackle the handcuffs on your wrists.

He'd given you too much freedom to be comfortable with.

A knife stuck out of Toby's back, although it took a moment for him to realize the marking was split open from the blood running down his back.

He felt no pain, but the hallucinations started soon after.

He kept screaming your name, calling for help, it was too pathetic for you to feel sympathy for, even if you had stayed to help him.

His wretched voice echoed throughout the house as you rushed toward any door, any window you spotted. Your mind rushed faster than you could make sense of it, and even opened a pantry in the rush of adrenaline.

You had to try the back door, which was past Toby's body in the living room.

And it fell unusually quiet.

But upon tiptoeing into the living room, with eyes wide and full of primal panic and focus, you noticed Toby convulsing on the ground.

But you didn't have any sympathy for him, you reminded yourself. Every villain as their golden moments, and in his delusions he loved you. But people don't hurt someone that they love. And they certainly do not threaten to lock them in handcuffs, to shove them into a windowless basement.

Foaming at the mouth, Toby wasn't present anymore, and didn't pose a threat even if the seizure did stop before you left.

You grabbed the keychain from his pocket, and unlocked the multiple locks lining the back door, and you disappeared from his life, hopefully for good this time.

When Toby finally woke up, the back door was open, a stupid racoon was picking through his hair.

[loquatenjoyer69]

He wants the loquat because he wants, like most people, to be happy.

Matoba is Matoba. The exorcist world is dying, families are losing their power, but there are still those who want to see the Matoba house brought to its knees, and even in a world like this where the competition is not what it used to be, it's still crucial to maintain the family's power. One slip could reveal a fatal weakness. A single crack could bring the whole house down.

Matoba is Matoba. A fifteen year old boy knows the histories of all the notable exorcist families, because he has to. If you're Matoba, you have to keep tabs on everyone. The Natori house was once powerful enough to rival the Matobas; their proprietary paper techniques allowed them to commune with the gods. Now all that's left of them is a child who knows nothing of his own legacy.

"The Matoba clan might not always be at the top, either, you know."

"Ahaha, I don't know about that... I won't let it fall." It's not allowed.

Every month, a hideous dark mass of a creature comes after him, trying to eat his eye out of his skull. Every Matoba head for countless generations has lived with this. The previous head's face was unrecognizable by the end. A fifteen year old boy is already preparing to take on the role with unwavering confidence. A single crack could bring the whole house down.

Exorcists gossip, exorcists scheme, they plot against each other and try to gain power. Youkai are unpredictable and dangerous; they can be powerful, but they often impose themselves on humans and cause them to suffer. If you can learn how to control them, you can wield that power. You must not let the youkai catch you, or the Matoba's power is no more.

Matoba Seiji is the head of the notorious Matoba clan, dispatching dangerous youkai with ease, spying on other exorcists, keeping the enemies of his clan in check, always carrying the umbrella when he needs it, always with that smile on his face. Matoba has perfectly mastered the art of protecting Matoba.

At twenty-two, he's been doing this for a while now. The small talk, the plotting, the bribing, the arrows, the umbrellas, the monthly visits from a creature hellbent on devouring your eye, it all becomes part of a routine, and at the same time, it gets tiresome.

Incidentally, Matoba Seiji likes sweet things. Incidentally, Matoba Seiji has a fondness for cats. These are essentially fun bits of trivia about him; they're not evidence of anything.

Incidentally, sometimes it seems like he's going out of his way to help people without them knowing. It's just easier that way; it's just more efficient.

None of this means anything. Maybe Matoba is the hard ground in winter: dry and barren, all life asleep underneath, waiting for spring (winter has been going on for years now). Maybe he's a summer harvest: the product of deliberate and painstaking cultivation under the heat of the sun. Maybe he's the spring: full of potential, just starting to blossom. Maybe he's the fall: dying, though he doesn't know it. Maybe people aren't like seasons at all; they're actually more complicated than that.

Summer is loquat season. Under the blazing heat of the sun, in the damp and sweltering air, the sweet loquats are ripening on the branch. Years ago, Matoba Seiji would admire them every day on the way home from school. It's wonderful how something so sweet and delicious could come from nature. Years ago, someone else was there, and they both got to taste the loquats. It's funny how things don't always work out.

[starfall-dream]

Companions realizing they love reader (Isekai Baldur's Gate x reader)

This is a repost from my main blog

---

Gale:

Gale is a romantic at heart, reading romance books, imagining a idyllic life with a lover. When he was younger, he believed his lover would be Mystra, living with the goddess that he dedicated his life to. But now, he finds his wishes to be more complicated. Now you're here, and he finds himself imagining what life would look like if you never leave.

"Gale, what does this one do?" You point to one of his many scrolls.

"It's a simple illumination spell" He responded. "There are much more interesting spells in this pile over here." He pointed to another pile of scrolls, this one inside his tent. You look apprehensive, like you don't want to invade him space. Your care, your kindness, was something new to him. "Go on, take a look, I don't mind." He smiled, watching as you entered his tent and dig through his scrolls, taking great care to not damage them as you explore them.

Your eyes sparkled as you read through each spell, asking question after question about each one. It was times like this that reminded him you were not of this world, so fascinated by things that were so common to others. Every gasp of interest filled his heart with pride, made his mind run with a strange sense of affection. Affection he never felt for another, not even Mystra.

"Wow Gale, these are all so amazing!" As you speak, he's broken out of his thoughts, and he realizes that he is completely and utterly in love with you. Maybe it's a little vain or maybe he's been reading too much, but he craves to hear you praise him more. He wants to hear the sweat sound of your approval be directed towards him, for it to never end.

For once, love and fear don't mix for Gale. He doesn't fear falling in love with you or wanting to devote himself to you. His mind drifts back to Mystra, and he knows it's different. His isn't a boy, someone who can easily be manipulated. He's a man, and he knows what he wants.

And he knows he wants you.

Wyll:

Wyll is valiant, heroic, the exact image of a gentleman. He dedicates his life to protecting the weak, and with you there is no difference.

He doesn't want to call you weak, he knows your inexperience comes from something deeper, but he can't help but pity you whenever your situation. Their fearsome leader, someone from another world, scared and confused, but brave nonetheless. It's admirable honesty, but somedays the world is too cruel, and it agonizing watching you traverse a world that has no care for you.

Like now, as enemies swarm your group, snarling and growling in your direction. You look terrified, but you're hiding it well. But as one of the creatures lunges for your throat, he waits no longer before piercing it through its gut. It twitches and growls before collapsing to the ground. You do similarly, moving towards Wyll and rushing towards his arms. He holds you, feeling your heart beat wildly against him. Your other companions deal with the looting as you quickly compose yourself.

"I'm sorry." You stumble out. "I-i just--"

"No need to apologize." Protectiveness swelled in his chest as he tried so hard to ignore the warmth he once felt when he held you. It was so different than anything else he's felt before. It was comforting, addicting even. He craved it more and more as you backed away from him. He could tell you were disturbed, you've never seen him like this before, but his protectiveness overruled any sense of composure he once had.

"Thank you for protecting me Wyll." You whisper, loud enough for him to hear. In an instant, it was like a weight was lifted from his chest, and he could breathe again. You were safe, he has kept you safe. The warmth, it was spreading through him once more, inviting and so very captivating, just like yourself.

In that moment, Wyll sweared to keep you safe, to protect the warmth that he's come to enjoy. He swears to become your protector, no matter how strong you become, you'll always be his top priority, his captivating love.

Halsin

Your dedication to helping this land is something Halsin finds fascinating. It seems second nature to you, never questioning when someone needs help. It honestly worries Halsin, how easy you can be manipulated by others. Halsin finds himself being worried by you often, like now, as he tends to a gash on your arm, a large wound oozing blood onto the floor of his tent. There is only so much Halsin's healing can do, the bandages on your arm becoming a lass resort from any more serious injuries.

"You must be more careful." He warns you, taking great care to wrap your arm gently, not wanting to inflict more pain onto you. "I do not like seeing you in pain." You seem surprised by his declaration, your eyes widening a fraction. He almost revels in your shock, if it weren't for his concern over your injury.

"You don't have to worry about me." You say once he's finished wrapping your arm. "I am your leader." That was another thing Halsin found fascinating, your bravery. Your sheer determination even while everything else was against you. But he also found it terrifying, seeing you get hurt or put yourself in danger nearly sent his heart into an attack, he just wished you would listen to him.

But he guesses that's what makes you so lovable, your kindness, your bravery, your stubbornness. He wouldn't have you any other way, even if you do fill him with dread from time to time. "Please just--be more careful, for me." He requests, gazing at your wound. Blood has seeped through the cloth already.

You smile "I'll try." Your tone had a light air to it, and Halsin couldn't help but smile.

You were going to be the death of him.

Shadowheart

Shadowheart never understood her peers, but truthfully, her peers never understood her.

She watches with a small scowl as you converse with Wyll, a bright smile on both of your faces, but yours is somehow the only one she can focus on. It angers her--maybe angers isn't the right word, it confuses her. She doesn't understand her companions behavior, you're some random human, gone mad by the parasite. Their adoration, it was strange.

Sometimes, she feels like the only normal person in camp. With Gale clinging onto you like a child, Wyll's near obsession with protecting you, and Halsin's worry over your every move, Shadowheart is to believe that nearly everyone has gone mad. But as she hears you laugh at something Wyll said, and as Wyll somehow moves even closer to you, she starts to believe she's gone mad as well. That same anger burns in her chest and her cheeks glow with embarrassment.

You're so strangely alluring, keeping them entranced to the point of obsession. It's almost maddening how you don't seem to know how taken they all are with you, having them each wrapped around your finger. Shadowheart wants to believe this is all a persona, a ploy to use them for your own gain. But she knows better than to believe something like that, you're not the type to manipulate and lie to people.

She wants to believe that the fire that burns inside her is anger. Anger at you using them, trapping them within your grasps to achieved some strange power beyond their understanding. But in reality, the only thing that burns inside her is jealousy. Jealousy at the others for getting to you first, for taking your time and keeping you close to them at all times.

She'd never admit this out loud however, not wanting anyone to know what you do to her. You are a weakness, she can't have those. But as you call her over to the fire, and as Wyll represses a frown, she finds herself allowing room for weakness, at least for a small while.

Karlach

"Would you like a hug, Karlach?" She would like nothing more, but a part of her is afraid. She trust Dammon and his expertises, but she never wants to hurt you. But as you open up your arms towards her, smiling so brightly, she can't help but wrap you up so tightly, and like expected, you don't burn.

You are everything she's expected and more. You are soft and inviting, and she finds herself not wanting to let you go. You're so warm, but in a way that was unfamiliar to her. It wasn't like the flames of Avernus, hot and overwhelming. It wasn't like the fire burning in her heart. It was like a hearty fireplace on a cold winter day, comforting and familiar, and she found herself missing it as you pull away from her.

"Thank you, Solider." Her voice was sincere. You nod, smiling at her, causing her to smile even more.

Later that night, should couldn't help but think of your warmth, and found herself missing it. It surprised her, how much she wanted to be close to you, how much she wanted to hold your hand, keep you close, and never let go. It worried her, how overwhelming these feelings were, but unlike the fire that once burned in her or her infernal engine, it was something she strangely enjoyed. It reminded her of you, almost like you were forever with her.

As she tries to fall asleep, she finds herself thinking of you, of your hug and your smile, and how she would do anything to feel it again, to never loose you. She knows this won't last forever, Dammon told her as much. Eventually, the heat of her engine will catch up to her and she'll have to make a difficult choice.

But that's something she can think about later, all she wants to do right now is think of you.

Astarion

Astarion thought he was better than his companions. He wasn't going to fall for your act so easily, he's seen it all before. Act helpless in need of saving, have someone to naive and guidable sweep in, and then stab them in the back. He was sure that was what you were up too, but after keeping your act up for weeks, it seemed as though you were playing the long game.

Astarion didn't mind, nor did he judge, he just--wished you weren't so good at it. He wished he didn't fold nearly as fast when you ask him to stitch up your clothing, hiding his blush as you praise him for his work. He wished he didn't seethe with envy whenever you were with another, burning as they hold onto you tighter and tighter. And by gods, he wished he didn't find himself wanting you so damn much.

Astarion pricks his finger as his mind wanters, a small sting spreading through the appendage. A slight hiss leaves his lips before he puts down the shirt his hands, your shirt. It's almost pathetic how much care he puts into repairing your clothing, almost making him laugh. The tear was a small one, there shouldn't be a reason he's keeping it this long, but he finds himself caring a lot about your things, your clothes, your hair, you in general. He hates it, but he can't deny it.

Eventually, he picks the shirt back up, examining it. The old tear, barely noticeable, weights heavily on Astarion's undead heart. Would you notice it? Would you be upset that he failed to do his job correctly? He knows it's stupid to think this way, to care so much about what you think, but he can't help it. You're alluring, captivating even, and it scares him.

It scares him how easily you captivate people. It scares him how easily you captivated him. But most of all, the knowledge of what each of them would do for you scares him the most.

Astarion knows that he's no better than anyone else in your strange group, he's just as swayed by your kindness and compassion as any of them. He's just too scared to admit it.

Lae'Zel

Lae'Zel doesn't like you.

You disturb her, with your strange mutterings and stupidity that has to be due to the parasite. You never seem to know what's going on, and if was in her nature, she would pity you. But of course, she doesn't. She has no reason to feel bad for you, not when everything is at stake, not when any of you could die at any time. But traveling with you has been--eventful to say the least. Her allies seem to see something in you, not that she cares much. You're weak, helpless, insane, and nothing will change that.

Lae'Zel has been taught her entire life that the only thing that matters is keeping herself strong. Surrounding herself with lesser people, weak people, is a distraction to avoid at all cost. But she doesn't have the option now, you are her only option, and she will have to work with what's she's got.

So she protects you, she keeps you safe, and she keeps you alive. She needs you, as little as she wants to admit it. You are important to her cause, nothing else matters. She couldn't care less what you think of her, as long as her parasite is destroyed and her people are saved, that's all that matters.

But she can't deny the surprise she feels when you agree to help her people, when you defend her from the others blatant disrespect, something you claim to be "teasing". She can't help but appreciate it when you, someone so much weaker than her, protect her in battle. It shocking, even more so that she doesn't hate it. She doesn't hate the affection from someone so weak, she doesn't hate it when you rely on her, or when you seek her out.

She doesn't know what she feels exactly, but she knows for a fact that she does not like you.

[meowsgirldrawing]

AUNTIE LAE'ZEL IDEA I CAN'T GET OUT OF MY HEAD-

For sure I'm going to write this when I can but I need to say it before I loose my mind! GODS-

SO this is mainly pertaining to Astarion romance, mainly cause he's the only one I'm familiar with personality wise so far. And he's the only one who's kids I've made.

But imagine Auntie Laze'zel-

Post! Game, Tav and Astarion have two little dhampires.

While everyone else was welcoming to the little bat-pups in their own ways, Lae'zel was..standoff-ish at first.

Don't get her wrong, she's happy for her friends comrades, she's just unsure how to proceed with these little blood suckers.

If her relationship with both Tav and Astarion are in the high, she's seemingly more nervous than unwelcoming. Confused possibly.

She knows how to treat children, somewhat, but babies??

Little toddlers that can't do anything for themselves?

Yeah, no, she's going to wait until they can at least understand the difference between a cat and a dog- And Tav why are you pushing the non-hatchling into her arms??

She's frozen as she holds their daughter. Her white curls, the only thing she shares with her twin brother, soft and tangled in her hand that supports the head. Tav helps her adjust as Astarion chuckles teases on the side. She'd snap at him another time, she's too busy staring at the defenseless, weak creature in her arms.

Eyes blink open, tiny nose unlike hers scrunches and she's staring into wide, red eyes tinged with orange.

She braces, having seen enough of other's childen waking up and immediately screaming their dislike of whatever they see. Not that she values a child's opinion of her looks. She'd could care less, but her ears care alot.

It doesn't happen. Happy and curious cooes start, eyes crickling as the girl reaches up. Grasping at her braids. Gently tugging and feeling the warriors hair.

"She's your unfortunate copy, Tav." Theres weight on her arm and a tight hold accompanying it. Her tail. Just like how Tav always wraps their's around Astarion or people she's closest too, the baby wraps as much as her tiny tail will allow around....

No, she is not turning soft, hush your ridiculous lies, Astarion!

She continues with that sentence for years, even when found playing 'teecups and crowns' with Amarylis and watching over Axel's non-serious training. Who she even gets pulled into playing with the dog with or finding weird stones along the stream, nothing but trying to find gold that could only be burried in the earth. But she doesn't say a word to the young halfing about that, just grabs the collar of his shirt if he wanders too far off, a soft hissable warning falling from her lips.

She's not used to kids, it's clear to the parents. But she tries, because they show a side she's not used to. They won't have to fight for their freedom, or lives or anything of that sort. They'll be able to choose to fight. And if having a toy crown on her head that has the girl with an affectionate tail giggling and finally finding a stone that has the boy, his outrageous curls doxed in his first half shave, grinning and spouting praises you'd only hear from young ones, is the biggest proof of that, she's alright with it...mostly.

And if you think the protection stops there...HAHAHAHA- No.

One time Lae'zel was in charge of the kids who wanted to go to a nearby carnival. Astarion and Tav allowed it, seeing it as a nice opportunity for some alone time and bonding time for Lae'zel and her little warriors in tow.

And if you call Lae'zel nearly breaking a man's arm off as bonding time...sure.

An older man, possibly a hunter by the looks of how his eyes shifted and how he posed in his following of the three, dared reach for Axel who was too busy staring wide eyed at the golden clocks on one stand to notice his creeping.

Lucky for him, Auntie Lae'zel came in, hissing and glaring, hand on the always sharp dagger she has at her hip.

To others and the guards, it looked like an attempted kidnapping so the man was taken away as soon as Lae'zel got a few good hits in, possibly a few cuts.

'Great.' She grumbled in her mind as she watch the man be dragged off, spouts of vampire children going unheard by the guards who merely rolled their eyes and gritted out words of justice.

She turns, half expecting to see eyes wide in fear at her, only to find a small body slamming into her front. Axel, at the age of 9, goes sniffling into her tunic, clutching at her back with tight fists.

"Auntie Lae!" His sister's teary eyes meet her unsure ones, "Are you okay??" She frets, coming in close aswell.

She ignores the murmurs, the looks as the crowd around them disperses. Her thoughts still trying to come together.

She tsks, patting the girls head instead of answering and pulls Axel away form her, only to kneel infront of him. "Next time, watch your surroundings. Understand, pup?" A common nickname from her companions. It calms the boy down, his red eyes getting wiped as he nods and sniffs, "Y-Yes, ma'am..."

After wiping his face and giving him a somewhat awkward hug, one that has Ama giggling and Axel blinking, they continue on, enjoying the carnival to the best of their ability.

And it seems to work out well. As soon as Astarion and Tav arrive home, the twins running up to their open armed father as Tav approches a tired Lae'zel. They chuckle and -

"What?!" Astarion bawks.

They look over, seeing the twins glance at each other then back at Astarion.

"Can you teach us how to fight like Auntie Lae'zel?" Ama smiles like she's asking for a delicate flower, while Axel gives a wicked grin in comparison. "YEAH! She beat up a bad man at the carnival today!" He giggles, "I think his arm broke cause I heard a loud crack!"

Tav blinks. Lae'zel stares. Then smirks, "I take back my first statement, they are like him."

[stars-and-inkpots]

True Love's Embrace | Gale x Reader

Finding those rings gives you the chance to protect Gale. Sure, he would never agree to you putting yourself in danger for the sake of himself, but he doesn't have to know.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: Canon-typical violence, blood and injury, codependency, self-sacrifice, forehead kisses, hurt/comfort

Notes: Inspired by some combat in my playthrough and thinking about the reactions some things may have caused. I simply think that Gale would have an opinion on using those rings, and it wouldn't be a good one (mildly hypocritical, of course).

Ao3 Link: True Love's Embrace

Word Count: 1,785

You know what those rings can do. You know what the wife who gave her husband the matching ring did. What she did was horrible, but you aren’t going to use them like that. 

You know Gale won’t approve of it at all; but the thought of the ring's magic protecting him (even if it was at the expense of yourself) gave you peace of mind. The thought of his safety is enough to drown out the thought of his disappointment if he does manage to find out. 

He didn’t question when you placed the silver ring in his hand. You almost worried that he would know what it was, that he would immediately see through your plan. You gave a relieved sigh when all he did was thank you for the gift and slip the ring on his finger before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. 

When you put your hand on his shoulder later, it was simple to let the magic of the rings flow through you. You feel the invisible thread that connects you to each other. Gale doesn’t seem to notice.

“Is everything alright? You seem distracted,” Gale asks. 

Guilt runs through you once more, urging you to tell him, but you ignore it. You needed every reassurance you could get to keep him safe here. You could take a few extra hits in battle, it wouldn’t matter. As long as he was safe. 

“I’m fine, just have a lot on my mind… and well, in it, I suppose,” you say, hoping the joking tone will hide the real concerns you have about the danger that surrounds you; and despite the distaste you have for the parasite that has made its home in your skull, you aren’t one to give up the opportunity for an admittedly awful joke. 

Gale groans, but huffs out a reluctant laugh all the same. 

“Hold on-” All of you hear Karlach begin to warn the group from her place in the front, but she isn’t quite fast enough. 

Creatures of vines and shadow shamble out of the bushes ahead. The biggest of the group creeps quickly out of the shadows as it towers over all of you. You barely have enough time to dodge the first round of thorns it shoots at you. 

Karlach is quick to start rushing at the nearest monster, axe swinging wildly as it cuts through wooden tendrils. Astarion manages to get himself further back where he can shoot safely. You and Gale, can’t move away quick enough before the ground erupts into a swarming mass of roots that entangle around your feet, trapping you. 

You do your best, blocking most strikes when you can, swiping your blade across the roots and vines that try to reach out, but your lack of movement makes it increasingly difficult. Several hits make it through your defence, thorns cutting through your armour, pinpointing the weak spots. You can feel the ring working its magic when pain blossoms from phantom wounds as Gale is hit behind you. You endure, knowing that Gale’s injuries would be far worse if you didn’t have these rings. 

You can feel the heat from yet another fireball launched into the thick of the trees. Gale is doing his best to avoid catching anyone else in the crossfire of the blaze. 

When the last creature finally falls, you can take the time to untangle yourself from the roots at your feet. You finally notice the sheer amount of blood that coats the ground around you. Despite the lightheadedness you feel, you push on. 

Gale, though still injured, looks far better than he could have been. That makes this worth it , you assure yourself. It’s nothing that Shadowheart’s magic won’t be able to fix. 

---

Hoping for a simple excursion through the Shadow-Cursed Lands is a laughable desire.

The next day is much like the last. You and your companions are walking through the darkness, ready for some new horror to lunge out from the shadows; and are entirely unsurprised when they do. 

You’ll never get used to the shadow creatures. The tall and imposing beings of pure shadow, but still very much physical and capable of hurting you. Their claws are sharp when they dig into your flesh, and there are so many of them that it’s hard to keep track. They suffocate the light around them, plunging anyone nearby into darkness. 

You can feel each time one of them slashes at Gale. You are made painfully aware of each time the wizard isn’t quite fast enough when jumping out of the way. Even though the pain is lessened by the magic of the ring, combined with the strikes that you’re taking yourself, it leaves you struggling. Standing on unsteady feet, hands shaking as you hold your sword out in front of you, you realise that you might not be strong enough to protect him like you wanted after all. 

Exhaustion takes hold of you quickly. It pulls at you; your muscles feel weak. You let yourself collapse to the ground, unable to hold yourself up any longer. Stars dance across your vision, the world blurs and darkens at the edges. You keep your eyes open as long as you can. Distantly, you can hear someone yelling your name, frantic and scared. Sleep overtakes you, and you slip into the oddly comforting darkness of unconsciousness. 

---

The world returns to you in moments. In one, you are held tightly against someone’s chest, their arms wrapped around you, warm and strong. It is Karlach, you recognise vaguely. You drift away again. In the next, you can hear Shadowheart speaking to someone. Her hands are warm on your arm. You can feel her magic seep through your body; the wounds closing steadily. Then darkness once more. 

The next time you wake up, you aren’t sure where you are for a moment. 

You try to sit up, immediately regretting it as your whole body is wracked with pain. You lower yourself back down on the bedroll which has been covered in many plush blankets. It is then that you recognize the blue fabric of the tent and the books around you that are stacked neatly along the walls. 

With a sudden clarity, you feel the absence of the ring on your finger. 

Shit.  

Pushing through the entrance of the tent, is none other than Gale. He looks down at you, relieved, but also clearly upset. 

“Care to explain what these are? And perhaps, if you would be so generous, tell the truth this time?” Gale holds the two rings in his hand. 

You’re quiet for a moment. You feel awful for lying to him. 

“The rings we found. I thought maybe they were just normal rings, but after reading the diaries we found with them, I realised they could cast a one-way warding bond. I just wanted to protect you. It was something I could actually do to help keep you safe. I’m sorry, I know I should have told you, but you wouldn’t have let me if you knew-” 

“Of course I wouldn’t have let you!” Gale cuts you off. “Why would I let you do something like this? It doesn’t matter what the rings do, I’ll have none of it if it hurts you.” He sighs, frustrated, but clearly only because he is worried about you. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is quiet, wavering only slightly. 

Gale kneels down beside you, putting the rings aside and taking your face in his hands instead. “I care about you. I care about you a lot, in fact. When I saw you fall out there, I was terrified. I never want to get that close to losing you again. I know you had only the best intentions, and I am not angry with you; I love you, so very much. I never want you to put yourself in harm's way for the sake of me. Promise me.” He sounds desperate, like the thought of you doing something like this again physically pains him. 

“I promise.” In all honesty, you aren’t sure how much of the truth it is. If there was ever a moment where you would have to make a decision between him and yourself, you can’t promise that you won’t protect him then too. 

But Gale can’t fault you either. He isn’t sure that he wouldn’t do the same for you. In all honesty, if he was in your position, he might have used the rings very similarly, and he can imagine you giving him much the same lecture. 

Both of you are too ready to bleed for the other, for just the chance to keep each other safe. It seems that’s all one can do in this world right now. 

“I love you,” Gale whispers before kissing you, soft and careful not to move you too much while you’re still healing. 

“I love you too,” you answer, covering one of his hands on your cheek with your own. 

“I’ll go and get you some food. You’ve been asleep for a while, I kept near the fire to keep it warm for you.” He presses one more kiss to your forehead before leaving the tent again. 

For now, the rings are forgotten. Your earlier guilt dissipates slowly as you wait for Gale to return. He helps you sit up when he gets back, pain still very much present, but fading the longer you lean against him. He’s quick to wrap an arm around you, letting you put most of your weight against him, which you’re grateful for. 

The entire rest of the night, there isn’t a moment when he’s near you and touching you in some way. While you eat, he’s talking to you about another one of his books, but his arm is around you, hand resting on your hip. After, when you’re laying down again, he’s running his fingers through your hair, or resting his hand on your arm. Guilt returns momentarily when you realise just how much your injuries must have worried him. 

When you finally feel sleep tugging at you again, though less demanding this time, he lays beside you. The pain has subsided for the most part, and you’re able to move yourself to cuddle closer to him. He holds you close to his side, chin resting on the top of your head. 

You can’t promise something like this won’t happen again. Gale can’t promise that he won’t do the same thing. But both of you can promise to try to keep your self-sacrifice to a minimum, at the very least. And you can promise that you’ll always come back to each other at the end of the day. 

[nikalaeva]

Why is the Night Court so boring?

I don't like the NC, Velaris and the IC because they are perfect. You're probably thinking: "Wait, what about Illyria? The Court of Nightmares?" They're not the problem. We see MENTIONS of rebellions, not rebellions (and only in ACOFAS). We're scared that the CoN is filled with mad mothefuckers so they shouldn't be allowed into civilized Velaris. But where's their abnormality? They're religious fanatics? No. They're terrorists? No. They're just... arrogant conservatives. You know, FAIRIES.

ACOMAF could be Feyre Cursebreaker's journey and a slowburn with a morally gray Rhysand. Okay, let's say ACOMAF is only about the NC. What kind of plot could we see?

1. The rivalry between Keir and Rhysand.

Keir is the most dangerous faerie in the NC. What if very old faeries are immune to daemati's power? Rhysand isn't afraid of him, but he has to be careful and cunning to be respected in this terrarium called the Court of Nightmares. Some fairies wanted to take power from Keir, stabbing him in the back. Keir is here, and where are they? No one has seen them again... And why Rhysand chose Mor as his "second"? She knows Keir. She knows his tricks, his way of thinking, his confidants and enemies.

Keir can't ignore Feyre: if Rhysand took Mor with her "power of truth" (whatever that means), Keir wants Cursebreaker. Feyre needs to learn how get along with fairies like Keir, 'cause that's the politics - it doesn't care about your feelings or traumas.

2. Rebellions in Illyria.

We have Devlon with old warriors defends the centuries-old, cruel order of Illyrian society, and Balthazar with the younger generation who wants changes. It's useless to frighten the Illyrians with brute force, diplomacy will not be effective. Imagine that in Rhysand's absence, Cassian has decided to support Devlon 'cause with enemies like Amarantha and Hybern, you can't relax. Azriel is on Balthazar's side 'cause he knows better than anyone - cruelty corrupts. Of course, they respect Rhysand, but he is more High Fae than Illyrian.

The Illyrians can't ignore Feyre - she has the powers of all High Lords. Yes, she's a woman, but so was Amarantha, and what did she do on her own? Feyre knew poverty, just like Cassian. Her kindness and compassion are not weakness. Feyre was neglected by her family, suffered tortures, and she is unique, just like Azriel. Feyre needs to learn the importance of laws, the line between respecting traditions and the harm it causes.

3. Amren.

Damn, how SJM screwed up with her... A creature who is over 15,000 years old, acts like my mean grandma. Imagine if Rhysand's "third" was a real otherworldly monster. The banshee who went out of control. She can't talk, only cry, scream and howl, but with this she warns of danger and brings death. Rhysand's power can restrain Amren, but he is forced to feed her by souls to keep her from escaping the NC.

Feyre must help him, because Amren is ready to fight with the Weaver. For them it is merely a territorial matter, like for animals, but for Velaris it will be disastrous. Forget the fucking ring. Feyre must lure the Weaver away and bring her home while Rhysand does the same to Amren.

So, Rhysand protected Velaris from Amaranta, but the High Lord is so important that without him any community falls into chaos. Rhysand just can't be a good guy 'cause in the NC good guys drop like flies. And Feyre is a new force, a fresh perspective. And in the end the land chooses her as High Lady - equal to Rhysand, but not because she is his mate/wife (slowburn, remember?), but because she has earned it through her work.

But fans find more interesting to see Feyre as a whore and a thief, Keir as a pathetic bitch under Rhysand's thumb, the IC as the perfect family, Velaris as a fairytale. Illyria and the CoN are the background: there's something going on, but it's not worth paying attention to. We're more interested in seeing when and how Feyre and Rhysand will fuck, and everyone else doing something to make an illusion of a plot.

That's why the Night Court is so boring. And, unfortunately, we stuck in there.