#hello... me with the roses again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

solalunar-eclipse · 10 months

Text

Sonic Boom - S3E10

Episode title: The Obligatory Band Episode

Summary: When a boy band competition comes into town, Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles immediately decide that they have to enter as Dudeitude. The only problem: their other two teammates who aren't allowed to join...

AO3 Link

First | Previous | Next

[Episode opens on a shot of a poster.]

BATTLE OF THE (BOY) BANDS!!!! the poster proclaimed, using far more exclamation points than were necessary. All boy bands (and ONLY boy bands) welcomed to join and compete for the prize of 10,000 rings and a record deal!!

A crowd of villagers had quickly gathered around the sign—which of course soon drew the attention of Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles, who had been wandering around the village chatting happily about nothing in particular. (No, literally, they were discussing what the word ‘nothing’ meant to each of them.)

“Hey! What’s going on here?” Tails asked, taking to the air in an effort to better see what was making everyone else so interested.

He studied the poster, growing more and more excited by the second. “Sonic! Knuckles! Check it out!”

“Whoa!” Knuckles cried. “Are you guys thinking what I’m thinking?”

Sonic’s smile widened. “I think I am thinking what you’re thinking….”

“It’s Dudeitude time!” all three shouted at once.

[They snatch up the poster so that it fills the camera frame, leading to a transition where the camera zooms back out on all three of them smiling hopefully.]

[Camera cuts to Amy, sitting on her couch with a distinctly unimpressed look on her face.]

[Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles’s smiles take on a rather panicked quality, before the opening sequence begins.]

…

[The same intro sequence plays as last time, complete with a reluctant Shadow.]

[Eggman’s villain reveal starts off similarly to that of the second episode, but the malfunction is caused by most of the minor villains turning the lights on and photobombing him. The green screen glitches out, leading to green and choppy outlines around each villain, before Eggman chases them out while shaking a wrench at them angrily.]

[The sequence then continues on, before ending with the title of this week’s episode.]

…

“What is it, Ames?” Sonic asked, the smile slipping off his face.

“Seriously?” She sighed. “Why aren’t they letting any girls participate at all?”

“Oooh, yeah.” Tails winced. “That’s kinda rude, I guess.”

“I don’t know about rude—it’s mostly just downright juvenile.” Amy sniffed disapprovingly.

The fox and Sonic both turned to stare at Knuckles. “Man, I thought you knew about this kind of thing!”

The echidna cringed. “I mean…I dunno, guys, I can’t know everything all the time! Gimme a break, okay?”

Amy nodded approvingly. “That’s very true. There’s always more to learn!”

In the background, Sonic winced, more at the concept of learning from Amy Rose than learning, full stop.

“We don’t have to compete, then.” Tails said decisively.

Sonic and Knuckles were fully prepared to agree, but then they saw Amy’s determined expression.

“I have an even better idea.” she explained. “You guys are going to compete—and win—with a girl as your manager.”

“Uh…hang on, who would be our manager?” Sonic asked, frowning in confusion.

Amy facepalmed. “Me. I’d be the manager.”

Sonic grinned sheepishly. “Ohhhhh.”

“What’s a manager?” Knuckles added.

“They’re a person who helps organize all of your paperwork and performance dates.” she explained.

At that exact moment, Sticks kicked the door open and rushed inside, a pair of binoculars dangling from her hand. “You guys are hanging out? Without me?!?” (This of course ignored the fact that she was implied to have been watching them ‘hang out’ in Amy’s house for an indeterminate amount of time.)

“Oh, Sticks!” Amy’s expression brightened up considerably. “Do you want to work on the lighting for the show? There aren’t any government agents, aliens, or ghosts involved, I’m afraid, but it’ll still be worth your time!”

The badger frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but that sounds boring.”

It took two minutes of explaining (and convincing) to get the idea across to her, but the moment the words ‘fight the patriarchy’ came into the conversation, she was onboard instantly. As a matter of fact, the word ‘fight’ probably would’ve been enough all on its own.

After that, the entire team ended up so excited that they spent the rest of the day planning out a dance and lights routine to some of their music. By the time they were worn out and crashed in various places around Amy’s house, there was paper strewn everywhere, but the general concept for the show was complete.

Just before Sonic fell asleep, using the couch armrest as a makeshift pillow, an idea came to him.

I wonder if Shadow would want to join Dudeitude….

…

Of course, the next day, they ran into a (not at all plot-convenient) problem almost immediately. When Amy sent Tails over to get the forms necessary to enter the competition, he found that there was one minor issue with their entire plan.

All competing bands were required to have at least four members.

Amy rubbed her eyes in frustration. “I can’t believe we’re going to have to rework our entire performance routine!”

Tails sighed. “That’s the least of our worries. We can’t even compete right now!”

Suddenly, Sonic dashed into the room, his arms laden with to-go chili dogs from Meh Burger. “Hey guys, how’d it g—oh. What happened?”

Amy looked up at him sadly. “We need four members in the band to compete. And right now we only have three!” she cried.

“Oh! Well, if that’s all, then,” Sonic said, putting down his food and dusting his hands off at sonic speed, “I know what to do!”

And with that, he vanished in a blur of blue.

…

A black ear twitched as the telltale zooming sound of Sonic’s running reached its owner. Shadow straightened up from what he’d been doing—adjusting a new bed frame in his room—and walked out to the front of his cave, wondering what could bring Sonic here in such a hurry. Knowing him, it could be anything from just wanting to race to the world actively ending.

“Shadow! Great, you’re here. Listen, we have an emergency.” Sonic said quickly.

“An emergency?” he asked, concerned. “What kind? Is it the doctor?”

Sonic shook his head. “No, worse! Listen, we need you to join our band, like, now, or else we won’t be able to compete in the battle of the bands competition.”

Shadow stared at him blankly. “I…I think your definition of ‘emergency’ is somewhat different than mine.”

“But will you do it?”

“Let me see what you have planned first.” Shadow sighed.

Sonic did a rapid fist-pump. “Yes!”

Shadow rolled his eyes. “I didn’t actually agree to join yet.”

“But you did agree to look at the plans, which means you’re considering joining.” Sonic said smugly.

Shadow muttered “You’d better not make me regret this.”, but with that, they took off, leaving twin trails of blue and red behind them.

…

“So let me get this ludicrous plan straight. You want me to join your rock band, which involves playing on absurdly designed instruments and wearing insanely sparkly suit jackets, in order to win a competition exclusively for boy bands. That way, we can rub it in the organizers’ faces when they discover that we have multiple girls—or rather, one girl and one demigirl—working with us.” Shadow said slowly.

“Yes!” Amy exclaimed. “We’ll come out onstage after the others have claimed their prizes, and then we’ll take the most smug bow in the history of bows.”

“I still think that a speech calling out the secret underground alien-cryptid alliance would’ve been better.” Sticks muttered, rolling their eyes.

Shadow frowned. “And why can’t either of you—” he gestured to Amy and Sticks— “just be part of the band anyway? It isn’t as if they’d know whether or not the band was made up of all boys until the concert.”

“Actually, they would.” Tails explained. “There’s a rehearsal the day before that all band members have to be there for.”

“Ugh…” the hedgehog groaned. “Whose idea was it to join this stupid competition?”

“Well, first it was me and Sonic and Tails.” Knuckles said. “And then we were ready to quit when we realized they didn’t let girls in, but Amy said we should do it with her plan, so we did.”

Shadow leaned back against the couch for a moment and closed his eyes. “….fine. I’ll do it. But this is a one time thing, understand?”

“Alright!” Sonic cheered. “Now we just need to find you one of those suit jackets!”

Soon enough, the team had scrounged up Sonic’s spare outfit and handed it over to Shadow, at which point he began to regret every single one of his life choices.

“No. No way. This is utterly disgusting.” he snapped, holding the offending garment as far away from himself as possible. “I will never, ever—”

[Cut to a shot of Shadow standing stiffly while wearing the jacket.]

“This is humiliating.” he grumbled.

Amy winced. “Is this seriously what you guys wore while saving the town from Justin Beaver?”

“It was the best we could come up with on short notice, okay?!” Sonic cried defensively.

“You know what?” Shadow said. “Fine. Fine. I’ll wear it. But don’t you think that we should each customize our own outfit instead of all looking the same? After all—wait. You’re not doing this as…that tacky pop group, are you?”

“Nonono, don’t worry, we’re doing this as Dudeitude, not Dreamboat Express.” Sonic explained hurriedly, trying to stave off Shadow’s growing expression of horror.

“Actually, that sounds like a really good idea!” Tails said excitedly, pulling out his own jacket. “I wanna put, like, cool gear cufflinks on mine—let me go get the Build-It Box!”

[A montage ensues, complete with lots of tacky fashion choices and comical mistakes, including (but not limited to) a patch that was supposed to say ‘Knuckles’ but instead came out as a strangely detailed fabric replica of the echidna himself.]

[The team’s brief experiment with differently-colored jackets was also strongly vetoed by Shadow after they all came out of the box in different varieties of neon.]

Eventually, the three original members of Dudeitude had their new outfits all set and ready to go.

Sonic’s white jacket now had red and gold stars around the cuffs and hem, while Tails’s had—as he had mentioned—gear-shaped cufflinks and buttons with a crossed wrench and screwdriver stamped into them. He had also added golden sequins along the back spelling out ‘Prower’, akin to a sports jersey.

Knuckles’s jacket, on the other hand, had all sorts of patches sewn onto it, including a barbell, a circular one labeled ‘Weightlifting Champion’, and multiple stylized green emeralds. He seemed awfully proud of it, enough so that Sonic and Tails had to keep preventing him from flexing in front of the mirror so that he wouldn’t rip a seam.

When Shadow walked out, though, his jacket didn’t appear to have changed at all. Sonic frowned. “I thought you were the one who wanted us to change our outfits up!”

Shadow smirked. “I did.” he said proudly. “Tails, do you happen to have an ultraviolet light handy?”

The fox’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t.”

Shadow’s smirk widened.

Tails scrambled to get his biggest UV light, shining it on Shadow’s jacket…and then everyone gasped at what they saw. Blue and purple threads wove throughout the entire garment, creating a variety of geometric patterns that almost seemed to shift as Shadow moved.

Amy looked over at Sticks, smiling excitedly. “Hey Sticks?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you feel about adding some black light to the show?”

…

It had been decided that Shadow would play the bass guitar, since Knuckles was already handling the drums and Tails had taken on the keyboard/synthesizer role. Sonic, of course, was more than excited to use his two-necked guitar, tearing through riffs and fills with ease.

They’d had a week to practice before the rehearsal, and it became clear that Shadow had taken the time to learn every single song, as he played chord after chord perfectly. Despite his skill, his backup vocals were barely audible, and he outright refused to sing alone at any point in the show.

This only encouraged the entire team to try even harder to get him to change his mind, of course.

In the end, it was Amy who got lucky enough to hear him first—they’d all stayed behind to watch the other bands play so they could get an idea of the competition, but she and Shadow had been the only ones with enough patience to suffer through three poor performances in a row.

Their only real competition was a new band made of some boys whose personalities had seemed almost custom-built to sell well with fans, run by Justin Beaver himself as part of his new reality show. They had decent vocals and a generic backing track, but the test audience ate it up. The team had nearly suspected them of using mind-control technology again, but a quick reconnaissance mission on Tails’s part showed that the audience’s reactions were legitimate.

Somehow.

After the rehearsal had finished, the organizers left most of the microphones set up so that they’d still be in place for the concert tomorrow night. Amy had been getting ready to leave (and maybe snag a couple of the complimentary refreshments to take home when nobody was watching), when she noticed some movement out of the corner of her eye.

Quickly, she crouched behind a conveniently placed bush just as Shadow stepped forward on the stage.

He cleared his throat, looked around nervously, and then began to practice his backing vocals in a small, awkward voice. At first, his voice was too weak to carry very far, but when he saw nobody around, he began to relax.

His speaking voice was raspy and clipped. But when he sang, all of that fell away, and his vocals became smooth and deep, nearly making Amy gasp.

Quickly, she texted her friends and told them to come over discreetly, but also right now.

The moment they showed up, crawling into the bushes next to her, their faces immediately transformed into nearly identical shocked expressions.

“Is that Shadow?!” Sonic hissed under his breath.

Amy rolled her eyes. “Who else would it be?”

They watched in silence after that, still stunned. Shadow’s singing voice…well, it really couldn’t be described as anything other than beautiful.

The moment he finished, Knuckles shot upwards and began to clap excitedly. All of the others whispered at him furiously and yanked him down behind the bush, while a decidedly uncomposed shriek came from the general direction of the stage.

After a moment, Shadow barked, “Who’s there?”

The entire team stood up awkwardly, wincing. Sonic smiled nervously. “That was really good!”

The other hedgehog’s hands tightened on the microphone stand until his fingers nearly left imprints in the metal. “Sure.” he sneered sarcastically.

“No, seriously, it was amazing!” Tails cried.

“Yeah, it really was.” Sticks added.

“I loved it!” Amy exclaimed.

Shadow’s grip loosened slightly. “You mean it?”

The team rushed onto the stage, gathering around him. “Yes!” Knuckles exclaimed. “It was so cool!”

“Ah. Well then.” Shadow said tightly.

But as the team watched, his mouth curled into the tiniest of smiles.

…

On the night of the performance, all four members of Dudeitude had the jitters. Tails was making sure all of their equipment was accounted for the tenth time in a row, Knuckles was doing his best to curl up into a ball, Sonic was literally shaking in place, and Shadow was grinding his teeth and hissing at anyone who came near him.

“Alright!” Amy declared, clapping her hands together. The boys all promptly hit the roof, before turning to stare at her with various degrees of fear and frustration.

“Listen,” she continued, lowering her voice, “I’m so proud of all of you. You guys did a great job in the practice sessions, and you’re sticking it to all of these stupid organizers, too.”

Knuckles sighed. “Yeah, but not as much as the people out by the front fence.”

What he meant, specifically, was the all-girl band protesting the entire competition out front by playing their own songs loud enough to be heard from the rehearsal tent. They had camped out long before the concert had begun and were showing no signs of flagging, no matter how many people tried to drive them off.

(They also had a sign in front of them that read If you can be petty, so can we.)

Amy shook her head. “Everybody has different ways of dealing with these kinds of people. Just because ours isn’t as loud as theirs doesn’t make it any worse.”

“Right, but what happens if we’ve put in all this effort and don’t win?” Tails asked nervously, holding open one flap of the tent and gesturing to the band run by Justin Beaver. They were doing, quite frankly, a really good job, and the judges seemed almost won over already.

Amy frowned. “Well, I’m still glad I got to do this with all of you anyway. The only way we could’ve done this wrong is by giving up or by not having me and Sticks participate at all.

“And,” she added, “I’m also glad we now know that Shadow is an amazing singer!”

The hedgehog in question looked away briefly, embarrassed.

Sticks darted into the tent suddenly. “It’s time.” she whispered dramatically.

(Shadow and Sonic had to do their absolute best not to impale the walls of the tent with their quills at that.)

…

“And now, the final band of the night…it’s…Dudeitude!!”

The announcer’s voice rang in the ears of all four band members as they took to the stage. Sonic grinned at Knuckles. “You ready, dude?”

“Yeah, dude!” he whispered back, practically bouncing in his seat.

Tails leaned over to tell Shadow, “They’re always nervous until they hit the stage. It’s the waiting that’s the worst for them.”

“Oh. Good for them.” he muttered tersely, obviously not experiencing the same relief.

“You’re gonna do great!” Sonic cheered under his breath, smiling at Shadow in the darkness.

He didn’t even have time to react before the lights flashed on and the drumbeat began.

Shadow played his music almost entirely on autopilot, his hands moving more on memory than knowledge. He performed without thinking, doing the choreography (or the stripped-down version of it that he’d demanded they give him, because he didn’t dance) while staring blankly out at the audience. He’d never been more grateful that he was joining the band in its rock incarnation instead of when it was a full-on pop band.

As they entered the breakdown of the final song, where Sonic vocalized solo over chords from Shadow’s guitar, that autopilot ended up betraying him. Shadow had, on his own time, tried out singing along to this part in the test track an octave lower, because he’d found it enjoyable. It hadn’t been made part of the performance plan, and if he’d been in his right mind he never would’ve done it, but as it was…

…well, the audience ate it up.

They finished their song, accepted the audience’s applause (with much whooping and bouncing up and down from the original trio), and filed offstage, all while Shadow was still processing the performance.

The moment they entered their tent, Shadow’s knees gave out and he collapsed abruptly onto a chair.

“Whoa, Shadow, are you okay?” Sonic asked, hurrying over to stand next to him, his hands hovering nervously over his former rival’s shoulders.

“I sang.” Shadow wheezed. “I wasn’t even supposed to sing then, and…”

“It was incredible!” Amy gasped, stars in her eyes. “That was such a good idea!”

“So…I didn’t ruin the show?” he asked, looking up with a carefully blank expression.

“Honestly, I think you just won it.” Sticks said, poking their head into the tent. “I mean, the crowd is still shrieking.”

Shadow’s limbs went obviously loose with relief. “So you’re not upset.”

[The entire team suddenly locks eyes, remembering Shadow mentioning that his last brush with friendship ended badly.]

“No, no, no!” Amy cried. “No, not at all! Honestly, I’m glad you decided to sing.”

Sonic smiled at him. “It sounded amazing.”

Shadow shook his head, stunned. “I was so out of it up there. I barely even realized what had happened until I was done.”

Tails’s eyes widened. “Wait, does that mean you were practicing the song like that this whole time?”

“…maybe?”

“You should’ve told us!” he exclaimed. “I would’ve done all the sound prep so the audience could hear you better!”

Shadow looked cautiously down at his skates. “Thank you, but I’m alright.”

“You at least have to do karaoke sometime with us then!” Knuckles insisted cheerfully.

The entire team looked so excited that Shadow found himself smiling wryly against his will. “Well, I guess, if you insist…”

“The awards are starting!” Sticks called from the entrance to the tent. Then they frowned. “Wait, when did I become the responsible one here?”

All four members of Dudeitude took to the stage, along with the other bands. They were forced to jostle with their rivals for room, leading to many dirty looks and a minor shoving war. However, they all stood up straight when the announcer called, “Now, the winner of the competition is…”

“…Dudeitude!!”

Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles all screamed at top volume, making Shadow flinch before watching his bandmates with a smirk. As soon as they had received a check for the money and a guaranteed record deal, however, two things happened.

First, Amy and Sticks raced out onto the stage to celebrate too, completely forgetting their plan in the process. The audience went absolutely silent upon seeing them—and then burst out into cheers that were even louder than before. Sticks and Amy stared at the crowd for a moment, before smiling, putting their arms around each other, and taking their well-earned bow.

Then, the entire team all gathered together in a group huddle for a minute. Sonic whispered something to them that made their eyes widen and the hero bounce in place excitedly.

He snatched up a microphone and ran to the edge of the stage. “Hey guys, listen. All of us loved playing for you, and we had so much fun tonight. But, uh, being a hero is kind of a full-time job, and most of us already have enough on our plates. So…I wanna give this to a band who’s really gonna use it. A band who actually performed tonight, but never got judged, and a band who we all think was probably both one of the best ones here and who deserves this more than anything.”

“Yo! Ladies out front!” he yelled, getting the attention of the band who had been protesting the event all night.

“Yeah?!” their leader, a chipmunk dressed in a blue vest and white leggings, yelled.

“Can you guys come up here for a sec?”

The crowd parted to let the band through as they came to the stage. It was composed of the aforementioned chipmunk, a lynx in a pink dress, a lemur wearing all yellow, and a wolf who looked like she’d stepped off the pages of a goth/punk magazine.

“What is it?” the chipmunk asked.

“Hey, uh, do you want this?” Sonic said, offering her the prizes.

The crowd was completely silent.

“Why are you giving this to us?” the lynx asked softly.

“‘Cause we think you guys sounded great, and you really deserved to be included in this competition. And now that it’s ours, we get to do what we want with it. So we thought you should have this.” he explained.

Tails gave a thumbs-up from behind him, and Knuckles smiled encouragingly. Cautiously, the chipmunk stepped closer and took the prizes. “What’s the catch?” she asked.

“No catch. Seriously.” Sonic told her.

She watched him skeptically for a moment, before holding out a hand to shake. “Thank you.” she said quietly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you—my name’s Sally, by the way.”

“Nice to meet ya!” he said cheerfully. “Name’s Sonic.”

“These three behind me are Nicole, Tangle, and Whisper.” she added, pointing at the lynx, lemur, and wolf in succession.

“Hey! Thank you, like, so much!” Tangle cheered, appearing directly next to Sally. “Man, we’ve been dying for a chance to do something like this for ages!”

Whisper smiled in agreement.

“Uh….” Soar the Eagle (the reporter covering this event) stammered, trying to regain his bearings, “Well then, how about a picture with the…two winners of this competition?”

[The camera flash obscures the screen for a moment, before revealing a picture of Dudeitude (plus Amy and Sticks) and the other band. Most of them are smiling, and Shadow has mustered up a moderately friendly neutral expression for the camera.]

[roll credits]

27 notes · View notes

waspgrave · 1 year

Text

OGH lord. Somehow seeing Nate Sewell enjoy the mundane bliss of eating a blueberry muffin triggered the BARK BARK BARK 🤰 instinct. I want to get a big fluffy dog with him and plan the color of a nursery room.

#my detective: my mommy issues make me afraid of domesticity - hello. hi.#prawn posts #playing wayhaven #I’m also playing the golden rose and exile again. shepherds and hadea I am grabbing you and whispering ‘soon’

13 notes · View notes

jackienova · 1 year

Photo

Like constellations imploding in the night, Everything is turning, everything is turning. The shapes that you drew may change beneath a different light. And everything you thought you knew will fall apart, But you'll be all right. — Constellations, The Oh Hellos

#digital #digital drawing #Digital Illustration #doe #medieval au #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #HELLO I'M SO SOFT #honeymoon era bby ;-;#i wanted those wisteria eregion vibes don't @ me lmao #if i have to draw one more tudor rose i think i'll scream #i mean i love how that wall came out tho #but still lol #i'm in my medieval pit again and i just love them a lot okay

4 notes · View notes

wintcrstcrfall · 1 year

Text

#💘#{{ ~ &&. cherries and wine. ~ adelinne coldwell. ~ }}#{{ ~ &&. hello transcriber. ~ musings. ~ }}#{{ ~ &&. a soft little angel with heart made of delicate glass. ~ face. ~ }}#{{ ~ &&. wildflowers have the prettiest thorns. ~ carinna bronwell. ~ }}#{{ ~ &&. she smelled like white roses and felt as fragile as her dresses. ~ face. ~ }}#{{ ~ &&. blessed with beauty and rage. ~ musings. ~ }}#{{ ~ &&. when we suffer we do it in silence. and the world likes it that way. ~ johanna ballard. ~ }}#{{ ~ &&. i want my heart back; i want to feel everything again. ~ face. ~ }}#{{ ~ &&. she lost him but she found herself and somehow that was everything. ~ musings. ~ }}#{{ ~ &&. who hurt you like that? ~ mj. ~ }}#{{ ~ &&. love me just like a wildflower. ~ face. ~ }}#{{ ~ &&. a flaming rose. ~ musings. ~ }}

3 notes · View notes

melcirsium · 2 years

Text

'Emma continued to entertain no doubt of her being in love. Her ideas only varied as to the how much. At first, she thought it was a good deal; and afterwards, but little. She had great pleasure in hearing Frank Churchill talked of; and, for his sake, greater pleasure than ever in seeing Mr. and Mrs. Weston; she was very often thinking of him, and quite impatient for a letter, that she might know how he was, how were his spirits, how was his aunt, and what was the chance of his coming to Randalls again this spring. But, on the other hand, she could not admit herself to be unhappy, nor, after the first morning, to be less disposed for employment than usual; she was still busy and cheerful; and, pleasing as he was, she could yet imagine him to have faults; and farther, though thinking of him so much, and, as she sat drawing or working, forming a thousand amusing schemes for the progress and close of their attachment, fancying interesting dialogues, and inventing elegant letters; the conclusion of every imaginary declaration on his side was that she *refused him*. Their affection was always to subside into friendship. Every thing tender and charming was to mark their parting; but still they were to part. ... "I do not find myself making any use of the word sacrifice," said she.-- "In not one of all my clever replies, my delicate negatives, is there any allusion to making a sacrifice. I do suspect that he is not really necessary to my happiness. So much the better. I certainly will not persuade myself to feel more than I do. I am quite enough in love. I should be sorry to be more."' - Emma, Jane Austen

#crossposting crossstitch #emma woodhouse demisexual icon #i'm sorry for the sudden deluge of emma!blogging #but emma is extremely aspec #and i am living for this #i might try reading pride and prejudice again now i have an understanding of that story #but i do not honestly foresee enjoying it more than emma #emma is a disaster and i love her #elizabeth is my sister's protagonist #(northanger abbey does intrigue me)#(it has the misfortune of not having a Pemberly Digital adaptation)#(and not being part of the Totally Not Targeting Twilight Readers rose-on-black cover series my Emma copy is in)#(BUT we can read some summaries first and give it a stab)#austen had too much subtext for my undxed autistic self in high school english #and she was supposed to be teaching us about ~voice~#which i honestly think would be better taught with fanfic or short stories - voice is most notable in its Contrast with other voices #so yeah last time i read austen i hated it #luckily Q turned me on to LBD very soon after #and now I am loving Emma so here we are!#hello if you didn't know before - i am a tag novelist #single quotes this time because i copy-pasted instead of typing #and i refuse to double up on the same quotation mark in a row

6 notes · View notes

bandsanitizer · 11 months

Text

NOT THAT LYRICAL PARALLEL BETWEEN BLACK ROSE AND SEE-SAW NO WAY NO WAY

#the HELLO????#don’t worry??? at the end #AGAIN AND AGAIN #the ‘tell me it’s okay’#like FUCKKKKKKKKKK #what the fuck djdkbfkshdkdjdjkdjdjsjsjdjdjdj #anyways i’ll shut up cos i didn’t experience either of those songs right when they released #but damn the painnnnnn #but anyways sorry #i just… yeah ):#don’t have words for how much i’ve connected to the rose’s music #alison speaks?#the rose

1 note · View note

etfrin · 5 months

Text

⤷❝Mine To Love | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, mentions of caging/locking you up (doesn't do it though), hair pulling, breath play if you squint, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), pinv sex, blowjob, male masterbation, cunnilingus, mating press, mentions of Lucy Gray, no spoilers | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Snow realizing his feelings for you, being fucked up about it and fucks you!

⇢☾A/N: don't romanticize, it's dark romance so y'all are warned! This is set in the same au as The Study (you don't have to read it beforehand but it's recommended)

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > <tag list>

It started slowly, so slow that Snow didn't even realize it. It started with that night in the study after he had you. He didn't touch you again, denying himself of you. You, his wife, a little bird stuck in a cage. The First Lady of Panem was nothing but a doll, a showcase piece for the country.

You played the role well enough, but you weren't a doll at all. You brought life in what was otherwise a stone-cold mannor. The workers cook your favorite, making sure you're the most well-accommodated. Like a Queen. How their shoulders relax and the smile that springs up when they do the tasks that you assigned them. You earned their respect and their loyalty.

You were dangerous yet harmless. It baffled Coriolanus to no end. It started slow. He coincidentally met you in the hallways more and more. After that night, you couldn't make eye contact with him, no longer did you greet him with an awkward hello or a shy smile.

You look down at the floor whenever he passes you by, your body flushing from the mere second of proximity. So obvious and adorable. He loved how easy you were to read, how open you were. Whatever your lips hide, your eyes show. Whatever your soul hides, your body shows.

It started slow. The monthly dinners with the First Lady turned weekly. Every Sunday now he had you sit across him for dinner and he would ask you about your day. Just to be polite, mind you, don't look into it. He would be annoyed by those one-word answers but would never show it. His fingers subtly grasped the glass of wine tighter than he should, his heart pricking his brain into paranoia. ‘What else?’ he wanted to ask, ‘Stop saying it was good. Tell me what made it good.’

Instead of uttering those words, cameras were placed on every inch of the manner with the audio functions so everything is recorded for his and only his view. He watched you walking through the library, your fingertips touching the spines of the books you already read (which was most of them), you didn't even realize new books were added to the collection, all similar to the ones you liked. He watched you stroll the gardens, your face in a frown at the neverending white roses. A red rose and several other flowers were added the next day.

It started slow. He began to talk about his day more and more trying to fill a silence. He started asking for your opinion and oh, how that lighted your eyes up that you were finally doing what you were meant to do. Supporting him not as a doll but as a wife. You begin to talk about your days more, trusting him with your day-to-day activities. You tell him about friends and family, something he wasn't interested in (he has files on every single person you mentioned).

The nights that were dedicated to his needed sleep turned into the witching hours in which he would stroke his cock over the memory of you. His mouth biting into the pillow to stop his groans, hearing them would mean admitting his need for you and he rejected that notion. His cock was oversensitive because he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop fucking into his fist, again and again thinking about you. Not just your pussy but you. Your desperate moans, your lips marking his neck, your slick walls, and everything of you. Your tears, your head on his chest when he had fucked you. Everything.

He wanted to pin you against a wall. He wanted to bend over during dinner. He wanted you on his lap in his study. He wanted to push you to the bed and fuck you until the bed breaks. He wanted you!

The realization made him spill onto his bed sheets for the nth time. A gasp escaped his lips as he realized how deeply you are rooted in him now. He needed to kill you. He can't afford this again. Whatever this is. Obsession? Love? Was there ever a difference? He needed this to end.

‘You don't deserve to be loved,’ he thinks, you were no Lucy Gray after all, you were different. You could never compare to his first and only (not anymore) love. But he had caged you, he had you and knew your every move. The rumors that spread of cheating were seized along with the man who flirted with you. True to your words, you hadn't fallen to the temptations of the Capitol, rejecting their offers politely rather than basking in their attention like before.

‘Good,’ he thought, he had killed everyone who had touched you and it was hard to hide the evidence. “I am so much better than her,” he muttered, “I could do so much better.” He asked himself, ‘Why? After all the promises I made to myself of never repeating the mistake.’

He didn't get a reply but he dreamt of you.

Breakfast had passed, lunch too, he hadn't seen you once today. A quick peek at his monitors showed that you were sleeping in your room. He clenched his jaw, a part of him hating you for sleeping in because it deprived him of seeing you. A part of his heart warmed because your hair was a mess, the shirt you were wearing while sleeping was his, and you looked so darn pretty.

Coriolanus convinced himself that he was going to your room to wake you up. Nobody should sleep this late into the day. It wasn't healthy, and he needed the First Lady to remain healthy. That was all.

He stepped into the room, his footsteps quiet so he didn't alert you. He sits down on the bed, your sleeping figure beside him. Your mouth had dried drool on the corners which made him disgusted but amusement all the same. His hand went to your cheek, he couldn't control the action of his thumb stroking your cheek.

“I should lock you up forever,” he whispered as softly as possible, almost inaudible. “In this room, so no one can see you but me.”

He knew by now his thoughts weren't normal and it would never be. That's him and he had accepted himself. He leaned in closer, his lips inches away from yours. He stopped right before he closed the gap. He takes a deep breath, taking in your scent before pulling back.

His hand goes to your shoulder, he shakes you. “Wake up, bird,” he said, his eyes softening when he saw you wake up and peer at him with confused eyes. You yawn, and sit up, your eyes wide when you look at him. You rub them with your hand and blink.

“Is there anything wrong, Coryo?” You asked softly, “Anything I can do to help.” “You should shower and eat first,” he said instead, “and next time don't sleep in. I don't like indiscipline.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, “I was finishing a book.” Your eyes flicker to him, “It's nice by the way! I will tell you about it during dinner.” He wanted to hear about it now, he wanted to pull you closer and kiss your lips, he wanted to push you into the mattress and breed you. He wanted to clean you up after and feed you every kind of feed.

He clenched his jaw, trying to get rid of such thoughts. “We'll see,” he said before walking out of the room, accidentally slamming the door. The first sign of Snow losing control.

The second sign of Coriolanus losing control was how his breath hitched when he saw you during dinner. You are wearing yet another one of his shirts (how do you even get your hands on them) and that's it. A white shirt that reached your knees, you had forgone pants and opted for shorts that couldn't even be seen. Your legs were in complete view, the same legs he wanted wrapped around his waist.

He didn't say a single comment even when it was clear you were waiting for one. ‘Were you trying to seduce him?’ he thinks, ‘Or something else.’ He felt paranoid about you wearing his shirt. Did you want him? Want him to bend you over, press your face onto the table and fuck you like you were an animal?

He felt his pants getting tighter from his thoughts, flashes of what he could do to you, what he had done to you. He couldn't focus as you talked during dinner, he made a mental note to watch the cameras later to know the words you had blessed him with.

It hits him like a wave when dinner ends and you come to him with a book. Tabs were spilling out and it was a hardcover of an old classic that he had to read during the academy.

“You once told me that you liked this book, I spent last night annotating it! I did a few finishing touches before dinner…”

That explains your attire, you were busy formatting this gift for him. He took the book from your hand, he wanted to throw it across the room, he wanted to set it on fire. It was now his most precious treasure, more important than Panem itself.

The truth he denied washes over him. Making him take a sharp breath and your eyebrows etch together in concern. He had once a girl dedicate songs for him, now he had a wife dedicating booms for him. ‘It would be a mistake,’ he told himself, ‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past.’

The desires he shoved at the back of his mind sprang forward and he made a decision. The third sign of Coriolanus surrendering to himself was that he had everyone including the guards leave the dining room. Making your eyes widen from the sudden instruction.

“Is there anything wrong-” you begin to ask before Snow interrupts you. “Here is what's going to happen now. You're gonna be on your knees, you'll take my cock in your mouth and you'll make me cum. Then I will take you to our room and I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name.”

You blink once, twice just staring into his eyes that revealed nothing before you went closer to him and got down on your knees for him. “Like this?” You asked, breathless, your cheeks flushed. He smirked, “Exactly like this, pet.”

“Now part those pretty lips for me,” he said as he unzipped his pants and set his hard cock free. He lets out a chuckle as he sees you eyeing his cock like a long-lost lover. Guess he wasn't the only one thinking about that time.

You part your mouth wide enough for him as he pushes his cock in slowly. No matter how desperate he was a gentleman for his wife. He knew better than to gag you. He stopped when his cock had completely disappeared, his length engulfed into your wet, hot mouth.

He throws back his head as his dick hits the back of your throat. He relishes the sound of your choking around his length. He lets out his groan, trying his hardest not to cum down your throat so soon. His hand is in your hair, keeping you in place like an obedient pet.

You try your best to take in a deep breath as your tongue swirls around his length as much as possible. You weren't the best at blowjobs, but you knew the sloppier the better. Saliva ran down your cheek as you tried your best to focus on his cock underside, your tongue dragging itself across a pulsing vein that reached his cockhead.

You moan around his length as the taste of pre-cum bursts in your mouth. You close your eyes and try your best, bopping your head up and down. You clenched your fist, trying your best not to gag when his cock gets deeper into your throat.

Meanwhile, Snow was a wreck of a man, the heat of your mouth ruining his capability of having coherent thoughts. You were sucking his soul through his dick it seemed to him. His fingers tangled in your locks, gripping your hair tighter as a way to anchor himself to reality.

His blue eyes dilated to almost black as he looks at you taking his cock so well. Like you were made for it. Made for his cock. Made for him. Meant to be his wife, his bird, his pet, and his love. It's destiny, he decided as he pulls you off his cock and uses his suit sleeves to wipe your mouth and chin.

‘Everything leads to this,’ he thought, as he pulled you onto his lap and pressed a kiss to your lips. The saltiness of his taste in your mouth does not deter his tongue from tasting you.

“Go to my- our room,” he whispered to you as he broke the kiss. “I'll be there soon,” he promises as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips kissing your skin. You nod and get off his lap. Your feet drag you into his room.

Meanwhile, Coriolanus takes a deep breath, trying to maintain whatever pathetic excuse of sanity he had held. It didn't work. His cock was hard enough to hurt and his brain made him think. He thinks of removing you, he thinks of keeping you. He thinks of plans to protect you, backup plans to make sure you remain untouched while still maintaining the image of the First Lady. His true possessiveness and obsession flares up in his mind.

‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past,’ he told himself, repeating that line to his head.

He takes a deep breath, a glance at the cameras shows workers and guards kept the halls clear and you were in his room and on his bed waiting for him. Waiting for him to ravish you as you kept playing with the buttons of the shirt, and your underwear on the floor. Your face was crimson but your lower lip was in a darker shade of red with how much you bitten it because of nervousness.

He lets out a huff of air before adjusting himself accordingly. Coriolanus Snow was many things, gentlemen included and gentlemen don't keep their ladies waiting.

You freeze as he enters the room. You swallow nervously, your fingers pausing on the shirt button you were playing with. He glances at the panties that were on the floor and he gives you a little smirk. “Take it all off, my wife,” he said as his hands worked to undress him. His suit was on the floor, his shirt joining it soon enough.

You have to press your thighs together as you see his skin again, a whimper escaping your lips at the sight. He was so beautiful, craved by the angels, breathed to life by the devil. Soon, his pants and boxers were getting ridden off.

You check him out, your gaze hungry. Your fingers shake with desire as you take off your (his) shirt. You let it fall, exposing yourself completely to him, like he did for you. His eyes rack you up, causing a flush to every visible inch of your skin.

“Open your legs,” he said, as he walked closer and got down on his knees for you. “I am hungry,” he said, while his lips pressed to your knee and his lustful eyes bewitched you. You had to bite your tongue to not let a moan from his mere words. You spread your legs wide, letting your cunt come into his view.

Your folds that were glistening with your arousal and your slit which was the cause of your juices fluttered around nothing from his gaze. “Exquisite,” he had whispered, the praise warming you up and making your pussy clench harder. “Eager too,” he chuckles, looking up at you but you refuse to meet his gaze.

“Have your meal,” you mumbled, embarrassed. He pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, making your breath hitch from the contact. A sharp moan escapes when he bites, his teeth digging into the flesh and your hand falls onto his hair. Your fingers grip the blonde locks but you don't try to push him away. Your legs tried to close around him, but his hands made sure to keep them spread as he liked it.

He pulled away, admiring the mark before he pressed another wet kiss to it. His fingers grip your thighs, they hold tight enough to leave marks too.

He takes in a deep breath, nuzzling into your thigh. Your primal scent makes him go wild, his nail digging into your skin as he brings his lips closer to your pussy. One swipe of his tongue onto your folds and he groans louder than you have ever heard him to do so.

“You taste like fucking candy,” he lets out, as his nose bumps into your clit, his tongue messily swirling around your folds, gathering as much of your juices as possible. Your legs were all on his shoulders now as he all but pressed his face, burying himself in your cunt. He takes in a deep breath through his mouth before he begins to ravish you properly.

His mouth taking in your entire pussy and sucking it with such devotion it made you see stars. He laps at your pussy, his tongue never stopping to devour you. You pulled him even closer, your thighs closing around his head. The action only made him. You couldn't see it, but his eyes rolled back from the lack of air and your taste that quickly became his favorite.

His teeth pulled at the outer lips of your pussy, making you cry out and gush more juices. He licks it all up. Before his attention goes to your little bud, his mouth kisses it at first. Then he takes your clit into his mouth to suck without any mercy.

It makes you cry out, the soles of your feet digging into his back as your hips begin to rut against his face. You have no control over your actions. You were gripping his hair so tight you were afraid that you tore away a few strands. Overwhelming pleasure attacked all of your senses as he didn't stop his merciless actions.

You arch your back, your lips moaning his name as heat begins to gather in your body. You cry out, “Close! Coryo! Fuck!” Pleads begin to leave your mouth as your hips grind faster, your clit nudged his nose as his tongue is now inside your walls, fucking you with his tongue.

Your eyes widen, and you let out a silent scream when his teeth nip your swollen clit. You lay on the bed, panting as your pussy cums on his face. Your arousal makes a mess on his face which makes you even more slick when he pulls back and gets on top of you.

You looked into his eyes, his cold blue eyes that were nearly black now. He was panting, both of your breaths mixing into the air. With whatever senses you have left, you use your palm to clean up some of the mess on his face.

As soon as you finish up, he holds your hand. His mouth on your palm with broad strokes of his tongue he licks the remaining of your juices clean. “Can't let it go to waste, my bird,” he whispered to you as he leaned down. His body caging yours or were you caging him down with your legs around his waist? He pressed a kiss to your cheek. Sweet and gentle, and so unlike him but you don't dare question his affections. May it be sweet or savory, you accept it with your arms wide open.

“Want you,” you whispered to him. “You'll have me when I see fit,” he replied, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck before they reached the flesh of your breasts. One of his hands squeezed your breast and his thumb rubbed circles on your nipple. His lips paid attention to the underside of it, licking the skin around the round flesh before his teeth sank in making you gasp. He sucks harshly, his hold on your breast getting rougher as he forms the mark on your skin. When he's assured that a hickey will be formed, his lips pull back and he presses a kiss to the mark.

“You're mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin before he takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks just as harshly as before. You moan, “Yours, Snow!” Your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. His fingers play and squeeze your other breast while he continues to suck your bud. Your cunt despite having a previous earthsharing orgasm begins to pulse with need. You whimper, “Corio, please!”

Coryo pulls away, his eyebrows etched in annoyance, as much as he likes to hear you beg, he would rather focus on his task of marking you up. He leans up and presses his lips to you. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your fingers tangling themselves into his curls bringing him even closer to you. He breaks the kiss, “I'll teach you to be obedient later, my pet.”

You let out a whimper when he pressed a hard kiss against your lips. His hands travel down to your hips. “Get ready,” he whispered to you, “I meant my words.” I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name. Remembering his earlier words, you whine loudly, “Please!”

His hand grips your hip tightly as his other hand holds his hard cock and guides it to your entrance. Just to be a little tease, he swipes his mushroom tip all over your cunt, his cockhead bumping your swollen clit making you arch your back and your nails dig into his flesh harder, making him moan as well.

He finally pressed his tip into your slit, his cock gliding in smoothly because of how wet you were. He groans as his dick gets sucked into warmth. His head is between the space of your shoulder. He was panting, his hot breath hitting your skin as he pushed in inch by inch. Your hands are on his back, your legs around his waist as you encourage him to go deeper into you with your soft moans.

His teeth sink into your neck to stop a groan, as his cock reaches your deepest spot. While your nails drag themselves across his back to create red lines. Both of you finding ways to anchor yourself to reality, to not go insane with the pleasure you find in each other.

“Move,” you plead, “Please, Coryo, need you to fuck me. Need you!” Snow decided to have mercy on you both, his hips began to move shallowly, and he refused to completely pull back. He refused the concept of depriving his dick of your sweet, wet pussy. “Faster,” you beg, his deep thrust hits at your every spot, some you didn't even know existed. It fried at your senses, your mind going haywire, your body getting desperate for another release.

“No,” he barks near your ear, his mouth biting your earlobe before he begins to kiss your jaw and then to your collarbone. His lips suck purple and blue bruises on your skin while his hips grind into you. Making you go dizzy and insane with how his cockhead kept grazing your g-spot.

“Please, please,” you babble, “You're fucking me so good, Coryo! I can't take it, please! Fuck me harder, love!” His hips had stopped moving as he heard your words. His head leaned up to you, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “What did you say?”

You looked straight into his eyes, not hiding the love you had for him, letting it flow through your words and your body. “Love,” you whispered, your lips pressing a delicate kiss that could shatter everything you had built with Snow. “I love you,” you whispered. One of your hands moves to his cheek, caressing him. “You don't have to do anything in return, just know that I love you.” You smile at him, knowing it's more likely that he won't ever return your feelings.

You prepared yourself for a harsh rejection but instead, his hips begin to move again. Harder, faster than before, his cockhead kissing your cervix with his thrusts, his fingers digging into your hips marking it. You won't be able to walk later but that didn't matter.

What mattered was how perfect Coriolanus had begun to fuck you. No, it wasn't a fuck. This was something more. Something changed with your confession, something changed and will remain changed for the rest of both of your lives.

One of his hands reached upward, his fingers snaking around your throat. He pressed it in, not enough to block your breathing but enough to make you lightheaded. Your pussy which was already tight, clenched around him further making him groan right against your ear.

“Lover indeed,” he whispered, his words that you nearly missed, your heart understood what he meant. You gasp, “Kiss me.” You knew that even without him saying those words, he could love you all the same.

Snow complies, his lips clashing with yours. His hips rutting into you as his hands guide your legs into the mating press position, making you cry out into the kiss as his cock reaches even deeper than before causing a small bump into your stomach that neither of you notices.

The kiss got open-mouthed, desperate with how his tongue tangled with yours. It was filth filled with the pathetic, insanity of love you both felt for each other. His thrusts got faster, and sloppier as he was close to his end. Your cunt pulsating around his length as you too were close to shattering again.

What it took for both of you to reach the end was him breaking the kiss to whisper, “I should kill you. I should kill you for making me a lovesick fool again.”

The words even when you know can mean your doom makes you cum like nothing else. Your lips cry out as your walls begin to milk his cock for what it's worth. He groans into your mouth, letting himself feel your fluttering cunt before he thrusts into you once, twice, and finds his release. His cock spilling into you, his cum painting your insides white, marking you.

He pulls out, his back covered with scratches, his curls clinging to his forehead and his lips swollen from the kisses. You looked just as much of a mess as he did, with marks all over your body.

He thinks to himself as he lies beside you. He wasn't going to kill you now. Not in ten years or fifty but your end would only be when he decides.

He loves you after all, in his twisted way.

tags : @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @justacaliforniandreamer

8K notes · View notes

knowledgesought · 1 year

Text

tag drop

#( about ) / ⛓ it's easy to be omniscient when you've done it all before .#( aesthetic ) / ⛓ though chains be of gold they are chains all the same .#( anonymous ) / ⛓ hiding your face hides nothing .#( answered ) / ⛓ did you have a question for me ?#( games ) / ⛓ life is a dream for the wise and a game for the fool .#( headcanon ) / ⛓ what knowledge do you seek ?#( music ) / ⛓ music fills the infinite between two souls .#( ooc ) / ⛓ spirit of ( useless ) knowledge .#( open ) / ⛓ just this once i shall give it freely .#( psa ) / ⛓ knowledge speaks but wisdom listens .#( queue ) / ⛓ frozen in time for but a moment .#( save ) / ⛓ we save what saves us .#( starter call ) / ⛓ say her name to summon her .#( visage ) / ⛓ vanity can easily overtake wisdom .#( wishlist ) / ⛓ one only gets so many wishes .#( dynamic.ambrosius ) / ⛓ every act of creation is first an act of destruction .#( dynamic.oscar pine ) / ⛓ hello again old man .#( dynamic.ozma ) / ⛓ you can't .#( dynamic.ruby rose ) / ⛓ even if this was clever .#( verse.01 ) / ⛓ relics are treasured as something close to the divine .#( verse.undetermined ) / ⛓ stories are relics of an undiscovered world .

1 note · View note

kitscutie · 5 months

Note

hi! i saw your post about snow omg, can i request a coriolanus x mentor!reader where she’s similar to like clemensia but she’s more close to corio and they have a secret relationship? thank you in advance if you do this rq! love ur tsitp writings sm 🥹

snow and roses: part I (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: first time writing for snow and I'm very excited about it! I've always loved the hunger games and this movie was insane in the best way so please enjoy! I will be making this a series and this is only part one so stay tuned for the rest!

word count: 2.2k

join my taglist here.

"You're going to get it Coryo, don't stress." You soothed the boy as you sat next to him. It was barely even six in the morning and the pair of you had woken up, well he had woken up and you with him as he blatantly needed your support, desperate for the Plinth Prize.

You didn't need the prize, already coming from a wealthy Capitol family and yet you felt the same hope that he would win as you would for yourself, stomach twisting into knots at the thought.

"There's good candidates Y/N, it feels as if the odds are already stacked against me." He sighed, leaning over as he sat so his elbows rested on his knees, head in his hands.

"The odds are in your favour Coryo, you're special. Different." With that he looked at you, a small smile gracing his pale lips. He leaned up kissing you gently, fully embracing the special moment before he got up from his place next to you.

"I'll see you at the Academy?" He asked, knowing you had to leave quickly back to your own house in order to change but also in order to avoid the suspicions of your own family who had no idea of your relationship with Snow.

"Of course." You replied, also standing up and pulling on last nights clothes as you left.

You studied the dark an empty halls of his house, ensuring Grandma'am was nowhere to be seen before you quickly walked to the door, exiting un-noticed until Tigris came around the corner, seemingly equally in a rush and holding a shirt you knew must be for Coriolanus.

"Oh, hello Y/N." She smirked as you both stopped, unsure how to approach the conversation. She was one of the only people who knew something was going on between the pair of you and still she wasn't quite sure what it was.

"Hi Tigris. You look lovely today." You said quietly, feeling like a scolded child even though you hadn't done anything wrong.

"Well if you're here I can only assume Coryo is awake, I'll see you again I assume?" She replied.

"Yes and yes." You answered awkwardly before hurrying away once again, letting out a sigh of relief as you heard her enter the house. You could only hope she wouldn't mention your interaction to Coriolanus.

You walked into the Academy at the same time as you did everyday, conveniently when Coriolanus would also show up.

"Coryo!" You yelled, spotting him across the room. He turned his head to you as though it was a surprise to see you, it wasn't.

"Y/N. What a pleasure." He smiled with his typical Snow charm, allowing you to link your arm with his.

"How are you feeling?" You asked him, thumb gently rubbing his bicep through his shirt. You rounded the corner past the food and yet you both avoided it for different reasons. You having already been fed by your family and their lavish lifestyle and he too nervous to even look at it.

"Never felt better." He replied with false confidence but no one else around you had to know that.

"Snow always lands on top." You teased as you entered the hall, spotting your friends if that's what you could call them stood in the centre of it all, as they usually did, talking about everyone around them no doubt.

"Y/N and Coriolanus, finally some real competition has arrived." Said Arachne, a glass in her hand and a smirk on her face as she always seemed to appear in public.

"Be humble now Arachne, you never know who will be chosen." You smiled, turning on your Capitol attitude in order to fit in. You were Capitol born and raised but your family taught you to be humble and kind. It was clear this wasn't common among parents here.

"Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous." Said Felix, it made you chuckle how he used such a word to describe food.

"Only the vulgar eat with their fingers Felix, daddy not teach you table manners?" Snarled Festus, it was as though there was always a secret competition between the two of them, never quite made clear, never making sense.

"Maybe he would've if he wasn't so busy running the country. Hey they called us here for the Plinth prize right? 'Cause I heard Doctor Gaul's in the building." Felix changed the subject, knowing he had won. It was impossible to lose as the President's son you supposed.

You hadn't noticed but now Felix had mentioned it you took in the strange atmosphere, tense and mystery lingering in the air. "That is peculiar." You said, holding onto Coryo's bicep tighter subconsciously.

"Plinth. Look at his spawn. Who would've thought you could buy your way into the Academy." Felix once again snarled, he was always filled with such anger though it seemed todays anxiety only heightened this.

"Well you can't buy class. Did you see his mothers outfit? Sorry his Ma's." Festus joked, seemingly over his small tiff with Felix.

"Dress a turnip in a ball gown and it'll still beg to be mashed." Said Coriolanus, playing into their pompous ways. You knew he didn't agree, not really.

"Don't do that we all know you like him." Arachne spat with her spider like venom, raising her eyebrows at Coriolanus.

"I don't like him Arachne, I tolerate him. He's district." Said Coriolanus and he seemed pleased with his answer as you felt him relax under your touch. You however did like Sejanus and weren't afraid to show it.

"If I hear one more time how immoral these Hunger Games are I'll put him in the arena mys- Sejanus. You made it to the Reaping for once." Festus cut himself off, caught by Sejanus himself.

"And you made it to graduation Festus, we're both shocked." Sejanus replied and you couldn't help but snicker, hiding it as you realised no one else shared the same reaction. "Y/N, always a pleasure." He smiled at you politely. You couldn't help but note the way Coryo's jaw clenched, neck twitching as he looked at you to gaze your reaction.

"As are you Sejanus." You nodded. Arachne scoffed quickly mentioning the only thing she really cared about, the prize.

"Spill it, who won the prize." She asked.

"Well, no I'm not gonna ruin my father's big day. No one here actually likes him, but they do love his money." He once again hit back at the group around him, you felt sorry for the boy. Alone in a room full of people. "You know what that's like don't you Arachne?" He dug the hole deeper and you internally smirked, grateful someone was brave enough to stand up to a powerful woman like Arachne.

As the Captiol's anthem began to play you made your way to your seats, sat next to Coriolanus you placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered 'good luck' in his ear, though you didn't really think he needed it.

Doctor Gaul's chuckle resounded around the room in a menacing echo that always managed to make you shrink into your seat.

She commended you all for being star students before untroducing the creator of the games: Casca Highbottom.

He went on to tell you all that today was not the day the prize would be given out but instead there would be one more task to challenge you all and gage your true worth. Everyone seemed confused but not Sejanus.

"What's going on?" You whispered to Coriolanus. He sensed your anxiety placing a calming hand on your knee but gave you no other response which reassured you that you had not been left completely in the dark.

"The Plinth prize will no longer be determined by who was the best grades. But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games." With that there was outrage, to you it was dehumanizing for the tributes, 'mentored' by people their own age but for the others they only seemed to care whether they were given someone strong or weak. A 'runt' in Arachne's words.

The reaping commenced and you couldn't help but wish to be anywhere but here. You didn't want to do this, you didn't need the money yet you were forced to have another's life in your hands.

You got a small girl from 8 named Wovey, seeing her face on the big screen left you determined, determined to help her in anyway you could on the path to being a victor. Even if that meant Coryo may lose the prize.

Snow's tribute left the room in horror, her stage presence and brutality sent shivers down your spine, though you supposed that the outer Districts had it harder and that sort of survival must be built into her.

Standing up on shaky legs you grabbed Coriolanus up from his chair and outside of the room, you needed fresh air and you needed to talk to him about what you were about to face, arguably harder than any other test the Capitol could give you.

"Slow down Y/N, I can hardly keep up." He said, words laced with worry.

"I don't believe I can do this Coryo, did you see my tribute? She's hardly eligible for school never mind to be put into an arena where she's going to be killed. She's only a child." You paced while he leant against a pillar, beginning to eat some food he a had smuggled from the buffet table.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice Y/N." He tried to help but only made it worse as you realised you were trapped in yet another one of the Capitol's games. He seemingly realised this. "Hey, hey. If there as anyone in that room who would get that tribute, I'm glad it was you. Arachne would've given up on her by now. With you she has a fighter. A chance at surviving." He said while grabbing your wrists to stop your pacing.

"It's not that simple Coryo-" You tried but he cut you off.

"It is Y/N." He said sternly and you understood what he meant. It was either play into their games or become apart of them, no other choice. "You're a born winner Y/N, give her some of it hm?" He stared down at you as he spoke and his blue eyes while at times piercing sucked you in, heart rate lowering almost immediatley.

"Okay." You said.

"Okay." He smiled, reaching a hand around your neck to bring you into a kiss. It started off slow and caring though quickly intensified as he turned you both around so now you leant against the pillar instead of him.

His hand tightened around your neck, not enough to actually cut off air but just enough to make you feel dizzy as he pushed his body further into yours, keeping you against the cold cement and trapped in his arms.

Your mouths clashed together intensely, tongues colliding in a rhythm you though you would only ever be able to find with him in this lifetime. He was your everything, your light in a blizzard.

"Ahem." Coughed Casca, drawing the two of you away from each other with baited breaths and rosy cheeks. "Just like your father, yes we were best friends. Once." He said, and with that it felt like you weren't even in the room.

"Tell me Mr Snow, what are your plans after these games?" Casca asked.

"I hope to go onto the university sir, naturally." Coriolanus answered, pulling his waistcoat straight where it had been wrinkled by your tight grip.

"And if you fail to win the Plinth Prize, what then?" Asked Casca, it suddenly became clear to you that he knew something, just what he knew you were unsure of.

"We'd pay the tuition of course." He scoffed, insulted at Casca's insinuation even if it was true.

"Look at you, in your makeshift shirt and too tight shoes. Trying desperately to fit in when I know the Snow's don't have a pot to piss in." Casca said. You felt your own heart drop and so you couldn't imagine how Coriolanus felt, the insult to his pride was one you knew he wouldn't take well and so you grabbed his hand subtly, hiding it behind your back as to not show any sign of weakness to Casca.

"Goodluck with that poor little Songbird." He said, and with that he left. Leaving you to do damage control.

"Ignore him Coryo, he's trying to get into your head." You reassured him, moving a Snow white hair from his face. His jaw looked similar to the way it did earlier when Sejanus had so much as acknowledged your presence.

"He's right Y/N. From the moment my father died I lost. The odds were never in my favour." He spat out, though his actions didn't match his words as he gently removed your hand from his hair before beginning his exit of the Academy. "Come on now Y/N, I've got a songbird to catch." He said sarcastically.

You sped after him hoping Casca's words hadn't knocked him too much, after all, Snow lands on top and he wouldn't be the one to change that.

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @suvgs, @charmed-asylum

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #young!coriolanus snow x reader

4K notes · View notes

matchingbatbites · 2 months

Text

Happy Valentine's, all. <3

Eddie doesn't want to be making this call. Literally the last thing he wants to be doing is making this specific phone call, but he'll be damned if he lets his asshole of a roommate get away with this.

After a moment the ringing stops, and a voice says "Hello?"

"Uh, hi, is this Steve?"

"It is, who is this?"

"It's Eddie, Jake's roommate? I got your number from him." Well, from his phone when he'd left it unattended one day, but Steve doesn't need to know the details. "I really, really hate to be making this call, especially the day before Valentine's, but uh. Jake is cheating on you."

The line is silent for a moment before he hears a weak "What?"

Eddie's eyes squeeze shut at the heartbreak he can hear in that single word. He hates that he's doing this, but knows it needs to be done, for Steve's sake.

"I got home from work not too long ago, and heard him with some girl in his room. I took a video, if you want proof, but I just- I thought you deserved to know."

There's a bit of shuffling on Steve's end, along with a soft sniffle. "I, uh. I don't need the video. I believe you. I'm not all that surprised, if I'm honest."

He huffs a laugh, the sound so self-deprecating that it makes Eddie's stomach twist in empathy. "Guess that makes me three-for-three on my long-term partners cheating. I'm starting to wonder what the fuck is wrong with me."

That last part is softer, like Steve was speaking to himself, but Eddie hears it and frowns, because- because Steve is lovely. He can tell that Steve is beautiful inside and out, always kind with just enough sass to make him so fun to be around.

He's always makes sure to talk to Eddie every time he comes over, even if it's just a simple greeting or goodbye, and whenever he cooks at their apartment - because he's a great cook - he always makes enough for Eddie to have some as well.

It feels wrong to hear Steve talk like this, like there's something about him that needs to be fixed. Like his previous partners were right to abuse his love and trust, instead of treating them like the treasures Eddie knows they are.

Before Eddie can speak out to reassure him, the man continues. "Thank you for telling me Eddie. Spending Valentine's alone is gonna suck, but I guess that's better than spending it with someone who doesn't care about me."

"Spend it with me."

Eddie isn't sure where the request comes from, but as soon as it leaves his mouth, it's all he wants.

Steve gives a soft "Huh?" and Eddie repeats it, "Spend it with me. A boy as pretty as you shouldn't be cooped up inside on a day like Valentine's. Let me take you out, try to salvage it for you at least a little."

Steve goes quiet, and for a solid ten seconds, Eddie is sure that he's about to be rejected.

And then Steve says "Jake was supposed to pick me up at 6:30 tomorrow. I'll come by yours at six instead, so I can break up with him before we leave. Is that okay?"

A sigh of relief, and Eddie slumps into the wall behind him. "Sounds perfect, Stevie. Wear something nice, but casual, okay?"

"I can do that. I'll see you tomorrow, Eddie. And thanks again."

Jake comes across Eddie the next evening as he's packing the last of the food into a bag. He's spent the last hour or so getting it ready, making sure it's all perfect even though it's nothing too complicated.

A meat and cheese plate with some fancy crackers, a jar of the pickled asparagus he's recently become addicted to, a bowl of diced fruit and a box of fancy chocolates he'd splurged on.

He'd even dropped money on a bouquet of roses, and he already has a few comfy blankets and pillows packed into the back of the van. Everything perfect and ready to go. When Jake sees his preparations, he lets out a low whistle.

"Wow, Eddie. Trying to impress someone?"

Eddie shrugs, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. "Yep. It's our first date, so I want it to be special. Didn't wanna go the usual, boring, fancy restaurant route."

He's sure that's what Jake had planned for himself and Steve, and it's confirmed by the way his nose wrinkles. "There's nothing wrong with spending money on your date, Eddie. If you have the money to spend, that is."

Jesus Christ, Eddie can't wait to move out of this fucking place, and away from this fucking asswipe.

"Anyway, I've gotta go pick up Steve soon, and I'm planning on bringing him back here tonight, so maybe see if you can crash with your date, yeah?"

"Sure thing-" Eddie replies, though he's interrupted by the sound of a knock ringing through the apartment. He grins wide, knowing exactly who it is. "That must be my date. Can you grab that while I finish up here?"

Jake rolls his eyes but complies, and Eddie freezes in place, not daring to make a sound so he can hear whatever interaction is about to happen.

The door opens, and he hears Jake's confused "Steve? What are you doing here? I'm supposed to be-"

"Yeah, we're not doing anything anymore. Ever again, actually."

God, Steve sounds so bitchy, and Eddie fucking loves it. He grabs the bag of food and the bouquet of roses from the counter, glad that he got dressed beforehand, and makes his way to the entry.

"What are you saying, Steve?"

"I'm saying that we're over, Jake. Maybe you can call the girl you fucked last night and take her to dinner instead."

Eddie turns the corner in time to see Jake's stunned expression, clearly not expecting Steve to throw that at him. He takes a moment to bask in the fire burning behind hazel eyes, until they slide to him and that fire vanishes, replaced with something sparkling and delighted.

"Hi, Eddie," Steve says, his demeanor changing like the flip of a switch, and Eddie beams. He steps closer and offers the bouquet of roses, along with a "Happy Valentine's, Stevie."

The money Eddie spent on the flowers was worth it to see the blush that floods Steve's face as he reaches out to take them.

"Oh, thank you. That's really sweet of you."

"What the fuck is happening right now?"

Eddie and Steve both turn to look at a very petulant and confused Jake, and Steve just smiles. "Well, you just got dumped, and my Valentine is about to take me on a date."

It takes a moment, but something must finally click, because Jake's face goes red with rage. Eddie just grabs Steve's arm, guiding him out of the apartment before the man can actually do something.

"So what's the plan?" Steve asks as he takes Eddie's hand, lacing their fingers together as Eddie leads him to his van.

"Well, uh. The next town over still has a drive in theater, and they're showing some old romance movies tonight. The drive to get there is pretty nice, and we'll actually have some time to talk, and then- I have some blankets and pillows in the back of the van, and I brought food so we can do a picnic during the movies. I mean, if- if that sounds good to you."

Steve's eyes are sparkling again as Eddie rambles, and he squeezes their hands in delight. "That sounds perfect, Eds."

By the time Eddie gets home late that night, he's learned two things:

The first is that Steve had already been debating on breaking up with Jake before this whole fiasco, but the thing stopping him was that he actually likes being around Eddie, and he thought wanting to hang out with his ex-boyfriend's roommate would be too weird.

The second thing Eddie's learned is that Steve's smile tastes like dark chocolate and sunshine, and kissing him might just be Eddie's new favorite hobby.

(Eddie does eventually show the video to Steve, just to reassure him that he didn't break them up so Eddie could date him instead. The only comment Steve makes is "She's definitely faking, his dick game isn't that good.")

#i didn't plan on writing over 1k for valentine's #but here we are #steddie #steddie fluff #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steddie au #steve harrington #eddie munson #joey writes

2K notes · View notes

illyrianbitch · 20 days

Text

An Education in Malice

Pairing: Vanserra!Reader x Azriel

Summary: With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, rough, angry, hate sex basically. sexual degradation (name calling), p in v penetration, sex in da woods, bickering and insults, inner circle slander

Word Count: 6.6k

a/n: i know technically we wouldnt be a princess... but we r a high lord family so were running with it for the sexual tension. also dedicated to my soulmate and the brilliant babe, @itsswritten who told me to write sumthin smutty like this. thank her 🫡

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

“Hello, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched at the sound.

He’d almost forgotten how grating your voice was to his ears, how it made his body tense with an emotion he could never quite describe. He turned around slowly, taking you in where you stood leaning casually against a tree.

The dress you wore was reminiscent of autumn court elegance, fabric cascading around you in rich hues of crimson, gold, and amber, like the vibrant foliage of the season brought to life, sleeves like flickering flames. There was a sense of wrongness in seeing such an elegant form amidst the wild, your commanding presence even more striking than that of your other family members. If he didn't know who you were, he would have been tempted to describe you as something of unparalleled beauty, a vision amidst a forest of wilderness.

But Azriel knew who you were. He knew what you were.

He had noticed the similarities between you and your brothers quickly, from your mannerisms down to the curve of your lips. You and Eris shared the same snarky smirk– a smirk Az wanted to wipe clean off your faces. You were using it now, holding his gaze with the corners of your lips upturned and amused eyes.

“You look thrilled to see me,” you said.

Az did nothing to hide his disdain as he narrowed his eyes at you. “Where is your brother?”

“Busy,” you responded, absentmindedly running the tips of your fingers along the tree you leaned on. You took a moment to observe the bark before you turned to face Azriel again, a small taunting smile on your lips once more. “I’ll let him know you missed him.”

Azriel held your gaze for a moment, a tick in his jaw as he let out a short exhale. Then, he was turning around to leave, a clear dismissal. A small flicker of anger rose in your body. Quickly, you winnowed in front of him, your sudden appearance setting his shadows into a frenzied dance around him, coalescing into a swirling mass around his neck like a collar of live snakes ready to strike.

“Don’t be rude,” you said, “I’m here on Eris’ behalf. Give me information to report back to him.”

“Nothing to report,” Azriel said, voice flat. He stared at you for a moment, eyes scanning you. And then he was making another notion to leave, brushing past you with a small shove to your shoulder. You nearly laughed at the action, at how easy he was becoming to rile up— at how much your presence bothered him.

“You don’t want to stay and chat?” You said over your shoulder. A flutter of triumph spread in your chest when you heard his footsteps come to a halt. You turned to face him, his back still to you, shadows swirling around his body like black flames. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.”

Azriel turned to face you, a small scowl on his beautiful features. “Not long enough.”

You laughed, the sound stroking his body in a way that sent shivers down his spine. You let out a sigh.

“I get bored in Autumn sometimes, you know?”

Briefly, something flickered in Azriel’s hazel eyes, but it faded faster than you could decipher what it meant or where it came from. He titled his head slightly, eyes taking you in fully.

“Not enough cruelty for you?”

“Something like that.”

You both held each other's stares, his icy gaze against your fiery one. He lifted his chin slightly, rolling his shoulders as if to straighten his already stiff posture. You didn’t miss the way his wings extended slightly from their tucked in position, just enough to stand as a warning, as a reminder of who he was— what he was.

“This is a waste of my time.”

Yet, Azriel made no move to leave— not this time.

“Because you have such important matters to return to?” You asked with a raised brow, “You said it yourself, nothing to report. So, are there some damsels in distress to be saved? Something to make you feel important?”

You made sure to pay extra attention to when you mocked his previous words, tone dropping slightly deeper to imitate his. Azriel’s eyes narrowed even more, a dark wave of evident anger washing through his face, nostrils flared, jaw clenched. You bit the inside of your cheek to contain your grin.

You were playing with something dangerous, this you knew. But Azriel was so fun to rile up, so easy to. You understood, now, why your brother seemed to enjoy these meetings so much. You’d assumed Eris was some sort of masochist, somehow finding pleasure in the necessity of being allies with the Night Court, the same people who so commonly disregarded you and your family as evil and cruel— although, they were right to a certain extent. But perhaps Eris had found some sort of entertainment with this affair.

“Stop talking,” was Azriel’s only reply.

“Why?”

He took a step forward. You made sure to stay still, to hold his gaze as he peered down at you.

“Because you’re trying to get a rise out of me,” Azriel responded, his voice cool, “and it will not work.”

“Oh please,” you scoffed. “Play the unphased act all you’d like, we both know its bullshit.”

He said nothing in response, his eyes remaining locked on yours. Azriel’s stare was harder now, colder. A clear warning was written in his features, carved out between his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes: do not fuck with me.

But you welcomed the challenge. If he wasn’t going to admit it, you were more than willing to prove your point.

“You put my brother in a chokehold in a public meeting. You have no self-control. You’re just constantly one spark away from igniting.”

Azriel growled. “Your brother deserved it.”

You raised your brow in a small taunt.

“Because he called your precious Morrigan a slut?”

Whether Azriel wanted to admit it or not, you were very easily tearing at his resolve. He moved quickly, his hand naturally falling to the dagger at his hip. Shadows moved closer to you, but with a swift movement of your fingers, they were met with the spark of a small flame, quickly retracting back into their mass form near Azriel’s shoulders. You winnowed back to your original place, back against the rough tree bark.

“Careful, Shadowsinger,” you sneered, “You’re forgetting your manners.You didn’t even let me finish.”

Azriel wore a clear scowl now, brows furrowed as he held your gaze from afar, hand still on his weapon. There was something deadly about the way you made him feel, the intensity of those feelings far surpassing any hatred he held for your brothers– Eris, specifically. In truth, the more time Az spent near Lucien, the more he saw him as someone good– and the less similarities he seemed to bear with you, his conniving snake of a sister. You opened your mouth to taunt him once more.

“I don’t agree with my brother,” you said, “Hell, I admire Morrigan for her freedom. I do love a pretty dress. So, I would have called her something else… a liar, perhaps?”

Those words were all it took to light Azriel’s fuse.

Within a blink, he was in front of you, the cold steel of a dagger, Truth-Teller you presumed, pressed against your neck. His wings flared out angrily behind him. Shadows surged around you, a suffocating darkness descending like a shroud, swallowing the sunlight and leaving only a void of darkness. You stared into Azriel's eyes— cold, and angry.

"Shut up," he snarled.

For a moment, a sense of fear flickered deep in your stomach, but you swallowed it down, the flame diminishing before it could properly ignite. Even as his shadows threatened to consume you both whole, you refused to back down, meeting Azriel's gaze with a defiant stare of your own. And then, you grinned. A cruel, wicked gesture that made his blood boil.

“Nice to see you perform without an audience, too.”

Azriel's voice was laden with disdain as he responded, words dripping with venom. "You and your brother are exactly the same."

But instead of flinching at the accusation, you maintained your smirk, unfazed by the blade pressed against your neck. "Which brother? I have quite a few," you countered, your tone teasing, almost playful.

Azriel's grip tightened, images of your family conjuring in his mind. Az could barely remember the names of your other brothers, their features blurring into a blurry mess of fiery auburn and copper. Instead, his mind focused on you– the female before him, under his grip and his dagger, standing next to the two males he despised for different reasons.

“You can decide,” Azriel finally said, “they’re all equally terrible.”

“I’d say Lucien is a good male,” you laughed bitterly, “I’m willing to bet your sweet Elain would agree.”

A surge of fury rose within him, a deep primal instinct to lash out and silence your taunts once and for all. But even as he bristled with anger, he realized you were right.

He was constantly teetering on the edge, one step away from losing control. It had gotten worse recently, watching everyone around him find their place, their people; Elain growing closer to Lucien, his brothers spending time with their mates. Azriel was frustrated. He was angry. You’d done exactly what he told you wouldn’t happen– gotten a rise out of him. He hated it, hated you, hated himself even more.

Azriel took a deep breath, your heated gaze still on him, eyes narrowed, a small smirk on your lips that he filled him with a burning anger. It wasn’t as if he could kill you, no, he couldn’t even really hurt you. One mark on the Vanserra’s youngest and only daughter would be a mark for war. This was a battle Az couldn't win, indulging your provocations for the mere sake of your entertainment. He needed to calm down. Regain control.

The shadows around you began to recede and sunlight filtered back into the clearing as Azriel pushed you away with a snarl. You leaned your head back against the tree as you took a deep breath.

He studied you for a moment before saying, "You'd think someone as pretentious as you wouldn't need to rely on irritating someone for an ounce of attention."

There was a subtle shift in your demeanor—a swallowed response, a flicker of vulnerability. His gaze followed the movement down to the column of your throat.

“Pretentious?”

You gave a bitter laugh.

"Yes, pretentious. All of you Vanserras," Azriel retorted with a bitter edge, “Every single one.”

"That's ironic coming from you. You think we're pretentious?"

Azriel's gaze hardened. "Yes. Cruel, evil, and vile. You think you're better than all of us."

Your mouth widened as you scoffed. And then you let out a laugh of disbelief.

"Oh my Gods, does it ever get tiring?" you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Wallowing in your own self-pity and then using it as a means to hate everyone outside of your incestuous little circle?"

"Do not speak of my family," Azriel snapped.

You smirked. “So you admit your family is incestuous?”

Azriel said nothing, a sudden realization that his anger, once again, had beat him to his rationality, somehow giving you another weapon to use against him. He clenched his jaw, feeling a simmering heat building in his stomach.

"You stand in front of me and pretend to be shocked when I call you for what you are?" he countered with a sneer, “Your family isn't quiet about their disdain for my family, for my kind, or for me."

You lifted your chin. “You don’t even like your own kind, Shadowsinger.”

There was another flare of his nostrils and you knew that you’d gotten him once again. Azriel’s fists clenched at his sides, a sight lost to you as his shadows covered them. You continued as he stayed silent.

“I will admit, my family can be a bit narrow minded. Why would I hate you for the things you can’t control? Where's the fun in that?”

Again, Azriel remained silent. He knew if he made a move, if he said a word, it would likely be something he regretted, something that would come back to bite him in the ass.

"I don’t hate you because you’re from the Night Court, or an Illyrian, or a bastard, or whatever it is you tell yourself at night," you continued, your words like a dagger aimed at his pride. "I hate you because you are hot-headed and arrogant. You’ve held a grudge against Eris for something that wasn’t his fault and have utterly screwed Lucien to no end. Your little family is a disease.”

Azriel’s resolve was cracking. He didn’t have enough self-control for this, for you. He’d barely mustered up the diplomacy needed to meet with Eris.

“Stop talking,” he said through gritted teeth. He felt it again, the flicker of frustration that threatened to engulf him like an unattended flame.

You gave him a withering glare. “Or what, you’ll make me?”

Azriel blinked, his eyes scanning your body instinctively. There was something about the words you spoke, the way you had spoken them, that made his body shiver. A small jolt of electricity passed through his muscles. Unfortunately for him, you caught it as quick as it manifested. Your eyes widened as you let out a dry laugh, forming a small smirk on your lips.

“Oh my gods,” you said, taking a step closer, “I bet you’d like that, wouldn't you? Is that why you’re such an ass today?

Azriel’s wings twitched behind him. You gave him a mocking pout as you stared up at him.

“No one to torture, no sweet female to make love to? Poor, powerful, Spymaster.”

Azriel thought for a moment. He thought about the anger boiling in his body, how on edge he’d been, how every little thing had been setting him off. He thought about you, in front of him, a female he despised from previous meetings– loud-mouthed, vicious, and selfish. A female from a family he hated, a family that took things from his family, from him.

And then he began thinking of how great it would feel to show them how wrong they were about him. To prove to them that they weren’t better than him, that he was just as, if not more, powerful than their damned bloodline.

You had been right again. He was pent up. He hadn’t taken a lover recently, hadn’t fucked anyone since that one almost-night with Elain– where she’d been sweet, sensitive, and gentle. But even before, with the females who’d asked for it rough, told him they could handle it, he hadn’t indulged himself too far. He still respected them. They were still wide-eyed and kind, sweet to a certain extent. He didn’t want to hurt them. They were ladies. Azriel respected ladies.

“I said stop talking,” Azriel growled.

There was a tick in his jaw.

“And I said, make me.”

But you, you weren’t a lady. You weren’t sensitive, sweet, or kind. You were a viper. A snake with beautiful lips and a body he found incredibly inviting— not that he’d ever admit it to anyone. But standing in front of him, that defiant look in your eyes, the pride seeping off you, the smirk on your lips… Azriel felt hungry. He felt ravenous.

So, he thought for one more moment. And then he was taking a step forward, one that you matched with an equal stepback.

“Y/n,” Azriel drawled as he continued to take another step. You matched him again, moving back while you glared at him. “Are you not getting enough attention? Is that it?”

Your back hit the tree and you let out a small exhale as Azriel took a final step forward, inches away from you as he stared down with a dark gaze.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You bit out.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You attempted to regulate your breathing as his eyes drank you in, a clear and unashamed desire painted over his face.

“Do I look like a fucking mind-reader?”

Azriel gave a dry chuckle. You were unraveling before him, scrambling for control. “Such a vile mouth for a princess.”

“Fuck you.”

“Is that why you came?” He brought a hand to your chin, roughly tilting your face up to look directly at him. “Do you want to be fucked, Y/n?”

The answer was yes, you did. There was a sickening sense of excitement that ran through your blood, a heat pooling between your thighs. But you wouldn’t admit it. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction, weren’t about to prove him right. So instead you stayed quiet, pulling your face out of his hands and turning your cheek.

“I came for intel,” you said through gritted teeth, “in Eris’ place.”

Azriel gave another chuckle, something dark and humorous. His hand trailed to the side of your neck, pushing the hair off your shoulders to expose the line of your collarbone. You swallowed.

“Interesting,” he said. He leaned in, lips against your ear. “Then what is that desire I smell?”

You let out a sharp exhale as he leaned away. Taking a deep breath, you looked at him, biting the inside of your cheek at your body's betrayal. You needed to balance this.

“Maybe its you that needs a good fuck, Shadowsinger. Like I said, you seem real pent up. Noone quite scratching that itch?”

But Azriel no longer seemed angry at your words, instead, he seemed amused– hungry. He was quiet for a second too long, simply staring at you. A sense of irritation prickled at your skin.

“What?” You snapped.

“I can admit that,” Azriel said coolly, “if you can admit something to me.”

“What, are we trading secrets now? I wasn’t aware this was a children's sleepover.”

Azriel didn’t respond. You registered the movement of a dark shadow as it fled from his body, slowly sneaking around your collarbone. You attempted to hit it away, but it quickly slithered back to Azriel, running up his chest to curl around his ear. He smirked.

“When was the last time someone fucked you, Y/n?”

The air left your lungs as you let out a small gasp. You blinked. Quickly, you regained your composure.

“Excuse me?”

Azriel kept his smirk. “It must be hard getting anyone to touch you when you’re so sheltered by those males you call brothers.”

He reached out a hand to your bare collarbone, but you caught his wrist in your hand, allowing it to hover in your grip. His eyes slowly trailed up to your face, heavy-lidded and darkened with a sense of attention that made your stomach clench.

“What the hell are you getting at?” You sneered.

Azriel simply stared at you, the ghost of a smirk still plastered on his lips. His reactions had you gritting your teeth in anger and rubbing your thighs in anticipation at the same time— you hated it.

“Don’t ask questions you know the answers to.”

“You're pathetic,” you spat, “Save your games for a bitch who cares.”

But you still gripped his hand in yours, still felt the heat radiating off his skin. And you made no motion to move. No motion to let him pull back. Azriel didn’t fail to notice this, either.

“That snarky mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble. But I bet that's why you use it, right?”

Your breathing was heavier now. Azriel’s gaze flickered to where you still gripped his wrist.

“You can fool everyone, Y/n,” he said, “But not me.”

You shouldn’t have enjoyed the way his voice sounded on your skin, shouldn’t have felt a breathlessness filling your body as he spoke to you. But you felt it. And it was a burning, hungry desire that made your chest tighten. This was what you wanted, it was what you needed.

Azriel was right. The bastard had read you like a book. Your family, your brothers, never let anyone near you for fear of embarrassment– fear of you bringing some sense of shame. But Azriel was right. You wanted it. You craved it. You wanted to forget who you were, to give up the control you always had to wield.

Before you could overthink it, you loosened your grip on Azriel’s hand and pulled it towards you, situating it on the side of your throat. You let out a small gasp when he quickly wrapped his fingers around the base of your neck.

And then he was pulling you into him with a deep and angry kiss. All teeth, tongue, and fire, mouths crashing together almost painfully, but neither of you stopped. With every movement of his mouth, of his tongue on yours, a dormant flame deep within you awoke.

A primal desire surged through Azriel’s veins like wildfire, the scent of you– of your want, of your desire– filling his senses in a way that had his cock throbbing. There was no room for rational thought, only the raw, unbridled passion that engulfed him in a fiery embrace. His hand found its way into your hair, fingers brushing along your scalp as he yanked your hair to expose your neck to him. His lips wandered to your exposed collarbone, giving a harsh suck to the skin near the column of your throat.

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Shut up,” you responded, reaching your hands out to fumble with his leather clothes. Azriel pulled back slightly, grabbing your wandering hands in his. You let out a sound of protest as he ran sloppy kissing along your neck.

“Oh how i’d love to fuck that foul mouth of yours,” Azriel murmured against your skin, his mouth reaching your ear. “But we’re short on time.” He took your lobe in between his teeth and you let out a small groan.

“I bet all you’ll need is a few minutes– and that's being generous.”

Azriel’s hand gripped at your waist, traveling up your chest to roughly grab your breast through your dress.

“No wonder you’re so insufferable.” he said, his voice amused as he pulled back, his other hand tugged at your hair once more. “You haven’t been fucked properly.”

You snarled. "Fuck you."

Azriel grinned.

"Oh, princess, I will.”

And then he was pulling the front of your dress down, exposing your bare breasts before him, nipples peaked in the fresh air. You let out a gasp as a small faint ripping sound traveled to your ears. Before you had a chance to react, Azriel was spinning you around, pulling your back against his chest, one hand bracketing your throat as the other traveled down your stomach, grabbing at the fabric at your dress.

"But first, you're going to beg me for it,” he breathed into your ear, his voice so low you felt it more than you heard it. His words traveled straight to your core, leaving you dripping with want. Yet, you refused to let the words leave your lips. You gritted your teeth, bristled at the suggestion— pride and defiance warring within you.

“Like hell I will.”

Azriel made a sound of disapproval, his mouth still running along your ear, “No?” he asked, hand slowly trailing from your throat to your chest, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. “So you don’t want me to touch you?”

His hand fell over your breast, cupping it in his palm as his thumb brushed over your nipple. You watched as black tendrils of shadow danced around his forearm, meeting where his fingers tweaked your nipple. Their cool gentle touch sent a ripple of sensation through you and your head fell back against him as you let out a small whimper.

“Stop being a fucking tease.”

Azriel found that he loved the way you whimpered, loved the tinge of frustration in your voice as he touched you. Here you were, melting into his touch, attempting to avoid admitting in words what your body was showing in actions.

“I asked you to do something.”

He rolled your nipple between his fingers. You let out a deep exhale, pushing yourself back onto him, grinding into the evident bulge that pressed against you, the thin material of your dress doing nothing to disguise his hardened length.

“Just fuck me already,” you turned your head to catch his gaze, darkened and pupils blown with lust. “I know you want to.”

You covered his hand in yours, molding his hand into your touch, urging him to grab your breast again– harder, firmer.

The corners of his lips quirked up. “That doesn’t matter. Beg for it.”

Agonizingly slow, his hands roamed your trembling form, lighting flames of desire that you almost feared would consume you whole. Second by second, you felt yourself losing control. The heat of his touch seared through you, eroding the last crumbs of your resistance until all that remained was a burning need to be filled by him, to succumb to the primal urges coursing through your veins. You wanted him. You needed him.

“Please,” you whispered, the truth spilling from your lips in a voice so meek you barely recognized it as your own.

"Please what?"

With a trembling breath, you finally let go of the last shreds of your resistance, your voice coming out in a deep, frustrated plea. “Please fuck me.”

Azriel's lips curved into a predatory smirk.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice low and sultry as he pulled away from you. In one movement he was pulling your ass closer to him, forcing your body forward to brace yourself on the tree. In seconds you felt the cool air on your body as Azriel pushed your dress above your hips. Naturally, you felt your body bowing at the sensation. He let out a groan at the sight.

Then he was spreading your legs, baring you before him, glistening cunt on full display. His rough hands gripped your bare ass. He massaged it for a moment, but the motion was brief, and soon you felt a hard hand land on the fat of your cheek. You let out a small shriek, but it was followed by a low moan as he delivered another smack. Azriel smirked at the sound of it, at the sight of your ass reddening with his handprint.

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” You managed to grit out as you pushed your ass out further, “I’m growing bored.”

“Bored?” He ran finger through the wetness that pooled at your core. “Your cunt doesn’t seem to think so.”

You moaned at the feeling, pushing yourself back against his hand.

“Too stubborn to admit anything,” Azriel murmured, “But your body gives you away.”

Azriel took a step back, your body cold at the loss of contact as he freed himself from the confine of his leather pants, each movement filled with a primal urgency that would’ve made him unsettled— embarrassed even— if he had been in a more rational state of mind. But Azriel wasn’t being rational. All he could think about was you, and staring at your beautiful glistening cunt, all he wanted was to fuck you into oblivion, to let his frustrations out. To tame you like a wild animal— his most tantalizing challenge yet.

He settled himself behind you and stroked his cock along your folds, allowing it to glide against your core until both of you were slick with your desire. He teased you slowly as he moved up and down your entrance. You pushed against him, urging him inside, inviting him to take you.

Azriel only laughed darkly at the movements, and you whined in response, frustrated and irritated.

“Remember this the next time you insult me,” he said, “Remember how you were begging for me to fuck you.”

Half a breath later, he pushed himself inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt. You exhaled in tandem, your cunt clenching him, pulsing around the stretch of him. He adjusted his angle and picked up the pace, sending pleasure rising in a wave that you couldn’t hold back, your mouth falling open as he began to take you harder.

You let your forehead fall against your hands, braced against the rough texture of the tree. You faintly felt the ridges under your palm, but there was no pain, no irritation that you knew you were bound to experience later. All you could truly feel was Azriel deep inside you, stretching you out and using you in a way you hadn’t experienced for a very long time. The lust Azriel felt, the experience of being with you, of claiming you as his, was no longer a desire, no longer a want. It was a need. An animalistic and primal need that he felt deep in his chest.

Azriel's movements were relentless, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure rippling through your body, clouding your mind in a haze of ecstasy and melting away all coherent thought. There were sounds emitted from your lips, this you knew, but they were incoherent whimpers, quiet murmurs whispered towards the ground as your forehead dug into your hands with every buck of Azriel’s hips.

“You had so much to say earlier, Y/n,” Azriel said, pulling out until he was barely inside you. He thrusted back in, resuming a hard and brutal pace.

“Why so quiet now?”

Thrust.

“Did you just need the attitude fucked out of you?”

Thrust.

"What will your brothers think?” he taunted, his grip on your hips bruising in its intensity, “Your father?”

Thrust.

“If only your family only knew what their precious princess was up to. Taking it from the likes of me, like some common pleasure hall whore."

The mention of your family sent a surge of burning shame coursing through your veins, you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, flushing against your exposed skin. But amidst the suffocating shame, there was something else, something primal and insatiable that stirred within you—a hunger born of defiance, of indulging in a forbidden ecstasy. It filled you with a sense of exhilaration that bordered on madness.

Quickly, that spark of defiance ignited within you, mingling with the fiery hunger coursing through your veins, an urge to bite back at him. You craned your head to look over your shoulder, catching his eyes as you let out a moan, taking your lips in between your teeth.

"Do common whores get you this riled up?" you purred. There was a feigned innocence in your tone that made Azriel twitch inside you. His gaze burned into yours. "Do they make you this hungry?”

A part of you wanted the confirmation, wanted the triumphant feeling of knowing you could ruin him for everyone else— that you felt better than the females he had bedded, that you, the one he loathed so openly, were the only one to truly quench his thirst.

“Do they feel as good as me, Azriel?”

He let out a deep, guttural moan. The sound traveled through your body, lighting your skin on fire as you bucked back into his movements, meeting every roll of his hips.

“Say that again,” Azriel groaned.

When you gave no reply, he twisted your hair around one fist and gave it a tug, pulling your body up to him as before. His thrusts never staggered, not even as his hand traveled to wrap around your throat, matching the reddening print from his earlier grip. The other hand remained steady at your hip, gripping into the fabric of your dress and the exposed skin of your body.

“Say my name,” he growled and your cunt tightened at the sound, at the way he gripped your throat harder. You grasped at his arm with your hands, holding on to his skin as he bucked into you.

“No.”

Azriel growled, pulling out of you almost completely before he pushed back in a heavy, angry stroke. Your body arched in pleasure, a small whimper leaving your mouth instinctively.

“Don’t be a brat.”

“Fuck you.”

“I am,” Azriel said, “And your cunt is swallowing me whole, princess. Like it's made for me, like its been begging to be fucked.”

He released his grip from your throat, letting you fall forward as he placed his hand on the small of your back, arching your body for him as he pounded into you from behind. You fell forward, hands planted on the tree before you, fingers clawing at the bark like an animal in heat. Azriel watched as his cock disappeared into your cunt with every thrust, watched how your ass bounced back on him with every movement, how your tits moved with every roll of his hips. He fought not to finish from the sight alone.

You struggled to find your voice through the haze of pleasure that clouded your mind, that seemed to twist and tie your tongue to where you could only gasp incoherent words of ecstasy

“Oh, fuck. Azriel.”

Azriel drank in your sounds of pleasure like a male thirsted for centuries, the sound of his name on your tongue sending a wave of pleasure through his body.

“Are you going to cum, Y/n?”

You let yourself surrender to his touch as he continued to ravage you with ruthless abandon, his voice caressing you in ways you never knew a sound could do. You wanted him to go faster, harder, rougher; wanted him to fuck you with all his might, with all that anger you saw. As if he could read your mind, Azriel’s thrusts sped up, slamming into you.

“Fuuck, yeah, you are. I can feel this pretty little cunt clenching me.”

He continued his pace, fucking you with long thorough strokes that left you completely pinned between him and the rough bark of the tree. You felt him heavy against your back, breasts pressed against his hand as he moved between gripping them both roughly, holding onto them for leverage as he fucked you from behind.

"Look at you," he taunted, his grip tightening around you possessively. "So desperate, so needy. You're nothing but a pretty little slut, begging for release, aren’t you?"

Azriel continued, moving deeper and faster, pumping into you with snaps of his hips that had you writhing underneath him.

"And yet," you managed between breaths, gasps leaving your lips as he drove into you. "You’re the one pounding into me like a brute who can't get enough.”

With a low groan, Azriel's hand tightened around your breast, his grip possessive as he leaned in to bite at your shoulder with a hungry intensity. He was beginning to think that you’d surely be the death of him, that he had created something, some beast inside him, that refused to be satiated by anything other than you— and that was dangerous. But he didn’t think too much about it, not now, not as he felt your cunt massaging him from the inside, felt your walls clamping onto him in a way that set his body on fire, his cock throbbing.

Azriel railed you over and over, nothing slow or gentle about his movements. And with every thrust, you whined in ecstasy. His grip on your hips tightened, holding you in place as he kept pounding into you. He fell forward, grinding against you, pushing you further into the rough bark of the tree.

You could feel it, a deep pressure building in your stomach as his cock stretched you in the most delicious way. And you could feel him too, hot against your back, his deep breaths and the groans that reverberated through his body. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in your ears, muffling out the sound of your moans as your whole body tensed.

Then you felt it, a cool trail snaking up your legs. Dark tendrils of Azriel's shadows slithered through your thighs, caressing your skin with a tantalizing touch that made you clench at the sensation. You gasped as they coiled around your clit, winding you up with a feeling you’d never experienced before. With a loud moan, your orgasm rolled through you in a violent convulsion, white spots dancing at the edges of your vision.

Azriel hated to think it, hated to admit that the sound of you coming undone on his cock was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever heard, that feeling your cunt clench around him as the sound filled his ear was enough for him to unravel. With a choked moan, Azriel spilled into you, spurts of his seed coating your walls. You let out a final, breathy whine at the sensation of him spilling into you, feeling as it began to drip as Azriel slowly pulled out.

With a heavy breath, his gaze lingered on the glistening trail connecting the tip of cock to your cunt. The lust in his eyes faintly faded, and a moment of clarity washed over him as the reality of what he’d just done hit like a sudden, cold wave. He didn’t regret it, no, not at all. This was exactly the release Azriel had needed. In fact, a part of him nearly grinned at the realization, at the relief he now felt in his body. But the other part of him, the rational side afraid of disappointing his family, of fucking something up, awoke in a panic. What the fuck had he just done? And why was he so proud of it?

You slowly stood up, straightening yourself out as you turned to face him, face flushed and hair a tangled mess. There was a ghost of a smirk playing on your lips as you took them between your teeth and bit down. Your breasts were still exposed, nipples peaked and reddened marks from his rough grip. Azriel's eyes traveled down your form, swallowing hard as he took in the sight before him. He could smell the desire that filled the air around you both, could smell himself on you— the image of him plunging in and out of you still fresh in his mind.

The idea of it alone made his cock stir again. There was something intoxicating about this situation to him. The image of you returning home, covered in his marks, in his scent, in his seed. Eris smelling him on you, realizing that you’d not only fucked someone he despised, but sullied yourself with an illyrian– just as he’d told Mor. And you, you’d remember this. You’d remember him inside you, remember how you let him use you, fuck you like a common-court whore. And you’d have to live with that. Every insult you’d give him, everytime you sneered at him in the future, there would be a part of you that remembered falling apart on his cock as you begged him for more, for him to fuck you harder.

With a gentle flick of your fingers, your dress was perfectly restored, the fabric falling gracefully around your figure as your hair cascaded down your shoulders in silky, untouched, waves. You smoothed out the sleeves of your dress with a practiced gesture before turning your gaze back to Azriel, scanning him from head to toe. Your eyes lingered on his still-exposed cock, covered in the mixed fluids of your cunt and his seed. A smirk played at the corner of your lips as Azriel looked down, realization flickering in his eyes as he hastily pulled up his pants, stuffing himself back into them.

"Well, this was fun," you remarked casually– almost bored. Azriel resisted the urge to frown at the words, at the tone you used. "Catch you later, Shadowsinger."

Before he could respond, you were gone, leaving him standing alone in the forest, staring at the empty space before a tree.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Part Two

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria

1K notes · View notes