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#like they made me feel so loved and seen and valued and i felt like i coukd be myself again after 2 months of not seeing them

natalyarose · 24 hours

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𝓚𝓾𝓻𝓽 𝓒𝓸𝓫𝓪𝓲𝓷 - 𝐵𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝒜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓎𝓈𝒾𝓈

warning: very, very long lol

I wanted to create an in depth chart analysis on someone, and it had to be someone famous whose life I knew well. I honestly don't keep up with celebrities much, but the obvious answer to me was Kurt. When I was an angsty, hurting, misunderstood young teenager, he had my whole heart. I came from a very 'pristine' upperclass neighbourhood, yet my home life was a battle ground. In my childhood, I didn't meet a lot of people like me who were also hurting or have been to dark places (or at least, nobody would talk about it), so someone as raw as Kurt & a sound as unapologetic as Nirvana was like an oasis, I felt love. I sort of grew out of the 'obsession' with him as a person, but I still remember the way Nirvana and Kurt's imprint on this Earth made me feel. I was utterly intoxicated. The music, the poetry, the eyes, the passion, the pain of an outcast, the sarcasm, the anger at injustice... magic.

So without further ado, let's delve into Kurt's chart. I'm going to try to talk about the key things I notice. I'll be applying Ernst Wilhelm's Dhruva Galactic Center Ayanamsa (on Astroseek, Galactic Center mid-mula).

Moon in Punarvasu

Let's start with the Moon, typically considered the most intimately personal planet in Vedic Astrology. It actually takes some adjusting for me to see Kurt as a Punarvasu Moon since in Lahiri he is Ardra and I think he's sort've become a 'poster child' for the moody, edgy, destructive nature of Ardra. Even I used him as a prime example of Ardra in a video a few years ago... but I realise now it makes perfect sense. He is still very Rahuvian, which I'll further explain in a bit.

First of all, we're looking at the Sidereal Gemini section of Punarvasu-a brilliant mind, comedic, a writer, a communicator, and as we know a musician. I see Punarvasu's Jupiterian nature in his kindness, gentleness and intense loyalty to his values when it comes to protecting & advocating for the innocent. Kurt was very protective of women and children and despite his 'rockstar' image, was humble and always seeking to use Nirvana's music to advocate for social change. I know this behaviour can be seen as Rahuvian in nature, but I actually think this perception comes from misunderstandings from the Ayanamsa issue. Rahuvians can absolutely take an interest in social/political protest, but often Rahu natives prefer to 'play the game' and find purity and order in the chaos & illusions rather than actively push for expansion (Jupiter) and change.

As seen through various forms of literature & media documenting his life, Kurt had a tendency to look out for & befriend underdogs- a common trait of Jupiterians.

Another thing to note is that Jupiter rules sound. A strong Jupiterian placement gives an extremely powerful sonic presence. Kurt was an amazingly versatile singer, his ability to alternate between soft, melodic vocals & raspy, fierce, powerhouse metal-esque vocals was- is, phenomenal. The emotion and meaning conveyed in his voice is felt vibrantly even when the lyrics are muffled (famously, Nirvana lyrics are hard to understand lol).

The gentle nature of Kurt's Punarvasu Moon really shines through in these photos I love. Not to mention, Punarvasu being the Cat yoni! Kurt adored his cats. He also adored his daughter, in the sadly, short time he spent with her, in interviews and photos taken around the time we get a glimpse of his love and tenderness.

Physically, yes, Kurt has very Rahuvian gorgeous eyes, the 'scruffy' look that's typical of Rahu men, etc. - but look at his chin! Jupiterian natives are easily identified by their prominent chins (Jupiter connecting to the voice places an emphasis on the chin/throat area). Not to mention his hair- Cat yoni Nakshatras often give very sleek, smooth hair like a kitty cat. I know a few Punarvasu men with that kind of hair.

Punarvasu Nakshatra is often connected to imagery of angels. A lot of famous photos of Kurt depict Angel-esque wings in the background. Nirvana's album 'In Utero', depicts the figure of a woman with angelic wings. I see the Punarvasu angelic effect in the way I often see people remarking that Kurt was 'too pure for this world'.

One more distinctly Punarvasu theme I want to mention - Punarvasu's mythology is all about second chances, 'trying again'. Before Nirvana, Kurt started a band called 'Fecal Matter' (lol, wonderful). The band fell apart, but then came Nirvana. It is said that Punarvasu natives always get a 'second chance' or that things come in twos.

tw//

Another much sadder manifestation of this theme: As talked about in 'Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck', as a teenager Kurt Cobain attempted suicide. He heard a train was coming then went and lay on the tracks. It turned out that the train went on the other track. I guess you could say he got a 'second chance' in a way.

As we know, his life ended through suicide :(

Kurt's Punarvasu Moon sits in his 10th house, considered the house of career, the public eye and ambition. This makes perfect sense and is a very common placement to see in celebrities. With Moon in the 10th house, the emotions and internal nature are on display to the public in some way, which is true for Kurt. The native is radiant and marvelled at in their vulnerability of spirit- the 10th house and MC can be seen as the sky, and when Moon is in the 10th, everyone is looking up at you, enchanted.

His Moon is quite close to Jupiter. Most people would say it's too far to be a conjunction and technically it is, but I have a very open mind when it comes to aspects- especially aspects to the Moon! The faster changing the planet, the more sensitive it is to surrounding planets. I would argue that the Moon can feel influenced by planets close to a whole sign away (I'll have to make a seperate post on this at some point).

Anyway, Jupiter being close to Kurt Cobain's Moon only enhances his Jupiterian qualities. Jupiter on (or near to) the Moon can amplify the intensity of a person's emotions and internal convictions.

Jupiter also relates to spirituality - Kurt explored different religious structures (Christianity, Buddhism, etc.) at various points of his life, which makes makes sense considering his Jupiter ('Guru', spirituality, faith) is in Pushya, a Saturnian (restriction, structure) Nakshatra. Pushya is also known to be the 'birth of sadness' amongst the Nakshatras.

Ascendant in Uttaraphalguni (conjunct Pluto & Uranus)

Of course, in traditional Vedic Astrology the outer planets aren't used, but I incorporate them; especially when they're this prominent in their positioning- Kurt has both Pluto & Uranus very closely conjunct his ascendant, Uranus & ASC forming a 0° orb. While amazing, it is very typical to see this or similar astrological placements in the charts of people who've had a major impact in this world! While the inner planets are more personal, the outer, slower moving planets speak of the masses. Outer planets are generational, showing their influence in major trends and global events.

Kurt having these outer planets so close to his Ascendant speaks to how powerfully influential he has been on our world. He's inspired not one, but now many generations of youth with his image, his legacy.

It is not uncommon for people with Pluto on the Ascendant to become famous for their death which rings true for Kurt. A lot of people who may know not much else about him or Nirvana, know of his death and the tragedy surrounding it. Pluto gives him a natural intensity.

Uranus on the Ascendant speaks to a person who is eccentric, erratic or somehow unusual. 'Alien-like'. Kurt is often praised for his unique, unconventional mind and approach to his artistry. The first house being intimately related to how a person dresses & represents physically, Kurt dressed in many controversial ways, often to make a statement on political issues (wearing dresses for example).

It is no wonder Kurt's ascendant is in Uttaraphalguni, a Sun ruled Nakshatra. Sun ruled Nakshatras are radiant and tend to make natural leaders. He was of course, the frontman or the 'face' of Nirvana. Uttaraphalguni tends to be very good natured, but no-nonsense. Especially in the Virgo section. Uttaraphalguni natives are often kind in my experience, but have little tolerance for lack of efficiency which is true of Kurt, who held his bandmates to a strong standard. This Solar objectivity of knowing what's up to standard and what misses the mark is likely a big reason for Nirvana's huge success! Kurt was known to be somewhat ruthless or at least, very particular in how he wanted things to go in the band. (also a trait we see in Venusian Nakshatras; Kurt having Rahu in Bharani).

Sun Nakshatras tend to bless their natives with a natural sense of ease and comfort. The unapologetic authenticity Sun Nakshatras radiate means it's not uncommon to see these people as pioneers in whatever their field is. Nirvana was a huge catalyst and made a name for themselves in the genre of 'grunge', but Nirvana continues to inspire all kinds of artists to this day.

Kurt having his ascendant in Uttaraphalguni made him a naturally magnetic person to women and men alike. People are extremely drawn to the warmth, loyalty and genuine nature of Solar natives.

Authenticity was a value held in extremely high esteem for Kurt. It was typical for him to do things like, playing songs Nirvana was told they couldn't play, just for the principle of it. While I mention Kurt's exploration of religion earlier, Kurt rejected the Catholic concept of God very strongly. He despised what he saw to be unfounded control over others' being, creativity & sexuality.

Sun Nakshatras are self made: they lead, others' follow/take inspiration.

A very good friend of mine showed me that people with strong Solar influence in their charts photograph very well in black and white because of their energetic radiance (they shine so brightly, they don't need colour to stand out). It also can be attributed to the fact that Sun Nakshatras tend to give strong and sometimes sharp & chiseled features. Another interesting thing is it's not uncommon to see Sun people with natural golden yellow-y streaks through their hair, which is true of Kurt Cobain.

Sun in Shatabisha

Shatabisha is the all seeing eye. It is the Nakshatra pertaining to secrets & the collective unconscious. Shatabisha natives are very tapped into the minds and emotions of the collective. They can be natural born mystics, very hyper aware of 'behind the scenes' or 'under the surface' societal themes.

A lot of Shatabisha natives are extremely cognizant of social & political issues. While I believe it is moreso Jupiter Nakshatras that take on that strong drive to actively make noise and make a change, Rahu is the observer, Rahu sees what is the issue. Hence Shatabisha translating to '100 healers'. Rahuvians will often dress or behave in unusual or eccentric ways, as if to show the world they cannot and will not be placed into a box of any kind. I mentioned earlier Kurt dressing and portraying himself controversially in ways such as wearing dresses, very aligned with Rahuvian nature.

Rahu/Shatabisha's sensitivity and attraction to altered states of perception (the all seeing eye wants to see the world from many angles) means that there is often a natural inclination to explore substances. A lot of Shatabisha natives I've met in real life engage in some form of escapism be it through gaming, drugs, or even sugary foods & energy drinks that give that hit. This is especially the case for Rahu influenced men rather than women, because the slightly more feminine nature of Rahu can feel less natural to men. They may feel they have a harder time dealing with the challenges/expectations related to being a man in society when they are influenced by such a flowy & feminine force. They feel themselves being the observer rather than the 'do-er' and it can cause self-esteem struggles. However, Kurt's other placements (namely, Jupiter & Solar influence especially) helped to give him a natural ability to be more hands on in life.

Of course famously & tragically, Kurt got lost in his addictions and his mental health deteriorated. I'm sure we can't blame the entire tragedy on Shatabisha energies and there's more in his chart we could look into to understand why/how this came to be, but looking broadly at patterns of Rahuvian men, we can understand the theme.

Shatabisha natives have the ablitiy make amazing art; the sheer vastness of their minds and Rahu's receptivity to external influences means that they have a wealth of ability to take in inspiration from others, then transform it into something unique and out of this world!

Every Shatabisha native I've met knows EVERYTHING there is to know about the artists, books, fashion, YouTubers, etc. they are interested in. They often have physical collections, and are very keenly attuned to pop culture (or just media in general). I've met a lot of Shatabisha natives who have a very specific genre/subculture they take interest in and know everything about, yet they still know everything about 'mainstream' culture too. Idk how they know so much lol, but I believe the all seeing eye effect of Shatabisha makes it easy for them to take in that information very efficiently.

We see this incredible art & knowledge of culture in Kurt, who was openly a fanatic of many other artists and referenced who and what he knows time and time again in his music.

Kurt's Shatabisha Sun is in his 6th house, meaning these energies are especially highlighted when it comes to his everyday life, day to day employment, etc. which we know is true seeing as he was a musician.

One of Kurt's first girlfriends used to be the 'breadwinner', and Kurt would stay home and paint or write music.

Also in his 6th house is Mercury in Purvabhadrapada- Mercury rules over the intellect, communication, thoughts. Kurt was known to be very moody and somewhat unpredictable. Purvabhadrapada's symbol is a man with 2 faces, so an unpredictable and dualistic quality can be see in the way he expresses himself. Mental health struggles can definitely be seen with this placement. Being the height of Jupiter, we also see a more aggressive form of Jupiterian challenging of limitations & societal expectations in Purvabhadrapada, which we do see with Kurt.

Uttarabhadrapada 7th House Stellium

Kurt Cobain has Venus, Saturn & Chiron in the 7th house.

The 7th house is the house of marriage, partnerships, business and other people. I learnt that the 7th house is associated with fame, as when you are famous you know a lot of people/are viewed by the people. Also, achieving fame often has more to do with connections, contracts, and partnerships than it does to do with ambition & talent alone. So it makes sense that a famous person would have a strongly lit up 7th house.

Looking at photos of Kurt, I'm noticing how Saturnian he appears- the symmetrical features, 'stern' look. That also can be attributed to him having a prominent Sun Nakshatra which gives a 'stoic' nature, but Saturn really comes through as well. He is also very Saturnian in his rulebreaking tendencies- Saturn Nakshatra men tend to have a strong internal moral code but love to break rules that they don't deem to be rules that are there for a good reason.

At 19, Kurt spray-painted 'God is Gay' and was arrested for it. He did this to irritate homophobic people, homophobia being something he stood strongly against having had a very close friend in school who was gay.

Uttarabhadrapada in particular is an extremely intense Nakshatra. It's related to sacrifice & suffering in the name of providing for the greater good, being the cow yoni (as cows provide milk). It's symbolised by the death bed. This is eerie knowing of his suicide, but beyond that I think it really fits with Kurt's views on fame. He didn't necessarily enjoy being famous or plan to become as big as Nirvana did, but in a way being that famous is sacrificial. The media milked him and his life in whatever way they could as they do with most uber famous people.

The 'suffering', Saturnian starvation and sacrificial themes in Uttarabhadrapada have a natural connection to the story of Jesus, which of course we see Kurt depicting Jesus on the cross in the Heart Shaped Box music video. A beautifully poetic song.

Venus being the planet of beauty, love, art, and femininity, means it is very important to look at in the chart of an artist, and Kurt's Uttarabhadrapada Venus being conjunct Chiron really speaks to how a lot of Nirvana & Kurt's songs speak of pain and suffering. Chiron is 'the wounded healer'- it is said that where your Chiron is can be where you have the power to help or heal others, but struggle yourself.

Of course, Kurt's 7th house Uttarabhadrapada stellium reflects his infamous relationship with his wife Courtney Love, very well. Kurt's ascendant is in sunny, jovial Uttaraphalguni, and many are of the opinion that Courtney or at least, the relationship really dragged Kurt down and wore down his psyche sadly. I don't like to speak too badly of anyone, but a lot of people see Courtney as a huge influence on Kurt's deteriorated physical and mental health. They would exasperate one another's drug issues, both struggling to stay clean even with a baby in the picture.

Courtney is really painted as a villain by many which is very Uttaraphalguni-Uttarabhadrapada axis... Uttaraphalguni is the shining Sun, Uttarabhadrapada is the dark, cold depths of the ocean... also, ice. This perception is rampant, many viewing Courtney as a manipulative 'psycho', some even theorising that Kurt's tragic death may have been a homicide of her doing.

You could even say that Courtney is the Uttarabhadrapada 'sacrificial lamb'; her own reputation taking a drastic hit so that the image of Kurt as blameless for how things ended can live on. Of course, it could be read the other way around in that Kurt was the 'sacrifice' in this relationship. Either way, these energies are present.

These photos of their wedding (famously, Kurt is in his pyjamas lol) in Hawaii are actually very Uttarabhadrapada in nature- the stormy dark weather and the ocean outside. The Sun is feint in the background- perhaps could be interpreted as symbolic of Kurt's Uttarabhadarapada 7th house (of marriage) drowning the light & joy of his Solar ascendant. Not that they had no joy together, but more that together they were headed down this dark path.

Rahu in Bharani/Ketu in Vishakha & Mars in Swati

Being a Shatabisha (Rahu ruled) Sun, Rahu in Kurt's chart becomes extremely significant being a depositor.

Rahu in Bharani is I imagine, at the root of a lot of Kurt's artistic interests. Kurt had a fascination with life & death, life in the womb, & the female anatomy, all Bharani themes. The most obvious example of this being Nirvana's album literally being called 'In Utero'. Also, there is a Nirvana song literally titled 'moist vagina' lol, a personal favourite actually (I find it so sexy & raunchy in an odd way haha)

Another thing that comes to mind is Heart Shaped Box- after Lana Del Rey (Bharani Venus & Rahu) covered it, Courtney Love revealed that the song was about her vagina lol...

Ketu in Vishakha can speak to obsession and drive, Vishakha being 'the Star of Purpose'. This is an extremely strong willed and potentially very artistic placement for Ketu. Vishakha is ruled by Indra, King of the Gods & Agni, the God of fire. Indra ruled over storms and rain. Ketu in Vishakha gives way to very intense emotions and a very powerful drive to create and fulfil what gives the native that sense of purpose. For Kurt, that was his music. I'll note that this means Kurt has a Grand Trine in the three Jupiter Nakshatras -

Moon in Punarvasu, Ketu in Vishakha, Mercury in Purvabhadrapada

A grand trine in a chart can point to someone possessing a unique gift or ability that comes effortlessly to them. As mentioned earlier, Jupiter rules the voice & sound in general. Jupiter rules expansion, growth. The weakness of Jupiter comes with overindulgence, going too far into the deep end. While Saturn willingly goes into the deep end through sacrifice & limitation, Jupiter can drive itself into dark places with its sheer lack of limitation.

Mars in Swati is at first glance, a very gentle Mars as Swati is ruled by Vayu, God of the Wind. It is not an angry Nakshatra perse, but it can be extremely cutting and 'quick with words' as it is the butcher caste. Of course, Kurt was a poet at heart.

One of Swati's main mythologies (to make it short and sweet) is about a boy who impressed the Gods with his bravery and abilities, and was then blessed with powers. However, the boy was a mischievous child always causing pranks, so for his 'naughtiness' he was then cursed to forget his story & his powers. However, later down the track he was reminded of his powers and his past.

This story highlights Swati's tendency to be extremely self-doubting of their own capabilities. They have 'forgotten' their powers and need to remember. Swati natives really struggle with feeling as though they aren't 'enough' and just like the story, really need people in their life who consistently remind them of their abilities and what they're capable of.

Kurt was known to be very self-deprecating in this way, often doubting his abilities and and despising the way he looked (also something we see with Chiron conjunct Venus).

Swati also gives a playful and childlike nature, often taking an interest in dolls, cartoons and other playful novelty things which is true of Kurt.

IC in Mula, MC in Mrigashira

Lastly, I'm going to briefly talk about Kurt's IC-MC axis.

The IC represents the childhood, home life & inner/private self. Mula is the final Ketuvian Nakshatra, and translates to 'roots'. Mula's primary motivation is truth, getting to the honest root of things regardless of whether it's pretty or not.

Mula for this reason is a Nakshatra associated with destruction, because the truth will often break absolutely destroy the ground of faulty foundations in society.

As the IC, this could represent a situation where in the household, this child acted as the whistle-blower of truth and saw through the family dynamics + were outspoken about what they saw. This rings true of Kurt, he was seen as somewhat of a 'problem child' at home and was outwardly, vocally embarrassed and unhappy with the turbulent family situation.

So at Kurt's core inner self, he valued truth. He would rather an 'ugly' disturbing truth than a beautiful lie.

The MC represents a person's outer persona, the identity and values the person wishes most to present to the world. Mrigashira is the birth of Mars. Mars is the maverick, the rebel, but also the fighter.

I definitely see that society at large had this perception of Kurt that he was this martian, aggressive person in some ways; especially taking the emotion and lyrics put into him & Nirvana's music at face value.

Mrigasira Nakshatra is known for being a 'troll', and Kurt trolled the media a looot. I think of that time in Nirvana when he intentionally butchered Smells Like Teen Spirit. Or him mocking the media's constant gossip about him like in this clip '...dead, pregnant, on heroin... I'm a hermaphrodite as well!' lol.

I'm going to finish this analysis here, this ended up being very long, but I hope it was interesting for someone! It was good practice for me... it also reminded me why I don't do readings anymore lol, I love astrology but... man. This was just the icing on the cake too!

Thankyou for reading ♡

#vedic astrology #nakshatras #astrology #chart analysis #kurt cobain #sidereal astrology #astrology observations

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theeveninghour · 29 days

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All My Dreaming

Summary: You came to the Night Court as a fugitive and quickly became a valued member of the Inner Circle. Azriel’s love for you has burned brightly in his chest for nearly two centuries now, but when an unknown force threatens to take you from him, he must fight to keep you at his side.

Pairing: Azriel x Winter Court!Reader

A/N: I don’t use Y/N here just out of personal preference, but the IC do call reader “Little One” because she’s younger than them by like a century or so. Also, slight timeline deviation? I kind of just made the ACOTAR timeline work for me a little bit but the important bits are there mostly. If it’s not totally accurate, please suspend your disbelief and go with it. I also took some serious liberties with Prythian geography and Azriel’s shadows in this. I had to force myself to stop because I could’ve written five more scenes, so let me know if you all want a part two. I got nasty Azriel thots to spare, baby!

WC: 16.1k ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW: 18+, Minors DNI, violence, death, descriptive gore, lots of time jumps, torture, smut, p in v, fingering, porn with plot, mating, slow burn, angst, friends to lovers, declarations of love, loving sexy times, miscommunications abound, Azriel being a big ole softie, Azriel being a big ole bitch to bad men, Azriel really going tf thru it emotionally, and Azriel being mouthy as fuck. Just girly things.

Part 2

Azriel hadn’t seen you in four days. Nearly a week had passed since you’d left. Rhys mentioned a mission but no additional details, Cassian avoided the topic, knowing how frustrated his brother got when you were gone, and Feyre was decidedly unhelpful the few times he’d brought you up. His shadows searched aimlessly, they’d found nothing as far south as Winter Court, daring not venture into Autumn, and knowing damn well you’d never step foot into Spring. You were slowly driving him mad; the bond in his chest aching at the loss. Even if you hadn’t recognized the golden thread linking the two of you, he felt it.

Gods, did he feel it. He’d often lay in his bed at night, eyes tracing the intricate foil patterns of the ceiling tiles. When sleep evaded him, as it frequently did, he’d grasp the thread tightly in his minds eye and tug it experimentally, begging you to see, to notice it was him that loved you with a ferocity that rivaled the sun. Try as he might, the responding tug never answered, his call into the void not returning an echo.

The second it snapped for him, Azriel had resolved himself as unworthy, not of someone like you. You were powerful, breathtakingly beautiful, intimidatingly intelligent, and you regularly brought men to their knees, both in political circles and on the battlefield. Rhys relied on you as much he did Cassian and Az, you were a core member of his court, a valuable asset, and the love of Azriel’s life. Azriel avoided the latter subject entirely, choosing instead to silently stoke the ember in chest with unyielding affection; his own private paramour.

When you’d joined the Night Court, you’d been on the run from both Winter and Autumn Courts. Your father was a high fae noble in Winter that had attempted to arrange a marriage to the second youngest Vanserra of Autumn. The family’s brutal reputation was legend and you were terrified. You were young then, barely a century old, and upon your introductory visit to the Autumn Court, Beron sought to make an impression by presenting a welcome gift. That gift? The public torture and execution of a servant he’d deemed traitorous.

His gleaming eyes remained on yours with each cast of the fire whip he’d conjured using his cruel magic. He’d cracked it again and again until blood splattered and the servant was left flayed beyond recognition, flesh searing, and finger tips twitching from the remaining neurons firing in his brain. Only after his death did Beron announce his crimes. He’d stolen a parcel of food from the royal pantry to feed his wife and small child. Your stomach churned at the thought of the now widow and fatherless child waiting at home for the male that would never return.

It had all been a test to see if you were worthy of the most violent and petulant of the broody sons, and you’d passed, holding Beron’s stare and keeping your back straight as you faced his wrath head on. You’d cried yourself dry in your room that night though, sobs wracking your form until your chest ached, grief for the male that was lost. Fear settled into your heart, terror of the family you were set to marry into.

You’d ran at first light, leaving with nothing but the clothes on your back. Your Winter white blonde hair streaking across the red and orange forest as you bolted. Beron sent his dogs after you. You still had the scars lining your calves from where they’d gotten too close, brought you down into the dirt, jaws snapping and tearing at the muscly sinew there. But you’d fought. You’d kicked and clawed like a feral child of the woods, screaming with a sense of self preservation you’d never known you possessed.

Rhysand had found you half dead, starving and a little savage in the mountainous border between the Day and Night Courts. He’d made a bargain with you then; he’d save you, if you worked for him. Word had already spread of the ousted Winter female and spurned Autumn princeling and Rhysand was impressed you’d lasted in the wilds undetected for so long. The small star flecked tattoo of the Velarian night sky that lived on your wrist since was the only evidence of his deal.

You’d long moved past such a bargain. Rhys had offered to lift it half a dozen times in your first hundred years within his court, but you hadn’t minded. A reminder, you’d insisted, a mark of your loyalty to the family that didn’t lead you the wolves with such glee.

You’d settled into a routine in Velaris, training with the Illyrian brothers and charming Amren with your intelligence and wit. But you’d become the closest with Mor, who felt a kinship in your shared traumas. She’d soothed you in those first years, fiercely protecting her friend when Eris Vanserra had shown up in Hewn City as an emissary to inquire on your new position in the Night Court. It was that same night that Azriel realized how fucked he truly was.

Eris smirked at you and your back straightened, face growing cold. He spoke, “My brother was wondering where you’d scampered off to.” A laugh followed, “You couldn’t stomach our court, but found yourself bound to the Court of Nightmares? My my, what a wicked turn of events.”

Rhysand had spoken then, wearing his High Lord mask well, “Watch yourself, Eris. You know not what our Little One can do.” Eris laughed, the sound laced with the dark spark of a threat. “Little One? Fugitive and Night Court whore, I must tell your father. I’m sure he’ll be proud to hear of his daughter’s fate.” Azriel’s wings pricked, then fluttered, he would’ve killed Eris right then for you. Your hand came to rest on Rhys’ arm as you stepped around the throne to level your accuser with a look that should’ve turned him to stone.

“I am no male’s whore and I belong to no court except Night. Report what you wish to my father, to your father, your brother. May you all rot.” You’d spat at his feet then, and the room heated twenty degrees, Eris’ barely kept rage simmering under the surface, fire blooming on the fringes of his figure.

He stepped forward and Cassian, Azriel, and Mor all shifted, prepared to take out the threat. Eris’ eyes tracked their figures, gauging the situation. He knew better. Any attack here would mean war on his court and his father have his hide for that. You stepped forward to meet him, knowing he could make no move without endangering his position. You kept your spine straight and narrowed your gaze at him with such contempt he would’ve been impressed at the show had you been anyone else.

“I will say this once Eris Vanserra,” you held up one long manicured finger, and Azriel traced the action with thinly veiled obsession. “Leave my court or I will be the one to kill you. I’ll rip your spine from your body and I’ll do it with the same glee in which your father,” you’d spat that word, the hatred you held for Beron burning your throat as the words exited your mouth, “killed that male for feeding his family.” You took a step closer, summoning a dagger in your left hand, and rolling it your palm. “Trust that we have no tolerance for your family or your bullshit in these lands.”

Eris had good enough sense to step back then, peering around your form to where Rhysand sat, legs spread, slouched in the throne, smirking at your display of dominance. Azriel to his right looked on in pure male satisfaction, you were a powerful little thing and he was rather fond of you in that moment. Eris spoke up, “Should I note that the Night Court threatens other Courts for sport?” Cassian and Azriel rolled their eyes in synchronous fashion, but it was Mor that spoke with the dark edge of a threat, “Only ones that deserve such brutality.” Her father, Kier, stood in the gathered crowd and sneered at the tone of her voice.

You’d done the unthinkable then, winnowing behind Eris, grasping the male by his red hair and dragging the dagger to his neck, digging in enough to cause the male’s heart to speed, a line of scarlet leaking from the press of your blade. You could feel the heat in his skin, the flame licked at your hand as you released him with a shove.

You brandished your dagger as if it was an extension of your hand, the tip of the silver blade glinting with red from the now healing cut at Eris’ throat. “Come for me again and I’ll kill you.” It was then that Azriel noted the slight tremble in the hand at your right side and he wished on some distant star that he could reach out to you, soothe you, tell you that he was proud and you defended yourself and your court beautifully.

As if his wish was granted, he felt his chest give way to a canyon of emotion, heart stuttering as the bond fluttered and snapped, thrumming with affection for the female standing at the center of the room. He had selfishly allowed himself to hope it would be you, in the dark of the night when he was alone and his shadows whispered to him of your whereabouts. Since he’d met you, he fostered that small romantic notion of soulmates. His most private desire.

Eris whirled on you with a roar, grabbing your throat with hands of fire. Azriel felt the breath leave him, and he took two then three steps forward before he could think, hazel eyes alight with a fierceness you’d not yet witnessed. Your eyes found his and you held up your hand to halt his movements, the one that had trembled seconds earlier, now steady as a stone. You’d looked at Eris then, raising your chin defiantly, a slow smile overtaking your face as you once again spit at the Autumn male before winnowing back to your place in front of the dais. Rhysand raised to his feet then, taking steps down to meet you. His hand grazed your arm this time and his mind reached out, “Very good, Little One, very good.”

“As the lady said, Eris, come to my court in search of her again, and she’ll be the one to kill you.” Rhys circled Eris, tracking like prey. “But not before I sanction it for laying your hands on a member of my house.” Rhysand spoke with such quiet cunning, it was no wonder he excelled as High Lord. Eris snarled then before winnowing out of the Hewn City and Azriel quickly set his shadows to following him, ensuring he was actually gone.

You returned to Mor’s side and the shameless pride that set on your face the rest of the night made Azriel want to kiss you. Gods, he was fucked..

You’d flirted with him constantly in the first century you’d been in Velaris. You had laid it on thick too, dragging a long nail up his arm, your mouth sliding into a smirk after one too many drinks at Rita’s. Azriel had always feigned friendly indifference though, a mask he slipped on that was equal parts protection as it was self soothing. His only crack coming in the form of a slight tremble in his pinky as he tried to gather himself to avoid closing the space between you, touching, grasping, feeling.

He’d worn black leather gloves around you in your first few decades with them. His hands always held the most insecurity for him, the silver scars and warped skin a brutal reminder of his childhood. It was after training one day, as you all packed your small bags and threw towels into bins that you’d asked about it.

“I don’t mean to pry, and feel free to tell me to fuck off, but why the gloves?” You asked quietly leaning against a wall less than ten feet from him. He’d stiffened and breathed tightly, “it helps with the work.” That had always been his excuse, wearing gloves when killing helped reduce the touch memories associated with the act, and it was partially true. But he wasn’t on a mission right now, and you called him on that, “are you spying right now?” Your lips quirked, “should I tell Rhys?” Your words were mirthful, but your eyes held nothing but empathy for the Shadowsinger, sometimes Azriel wondered if that was your Cauldron blessed gift.

You’d reached down then, rolling up the left leg of your training leathers. You’d resumed your full height and rotated your calf outward for his eyes to survey the damage there. Ragged silver keloid scars marked the skin from your ankle to the soft back of your knee— a knee he’d admittedly fantasized about many nights in a row now. He’d selfishly thought about trailing kisses up your leg, pausing to nip playfully at the soft skin at your knee as he made his way north, up your thigh. He breathed deeply banishing those thoughts as he took in the site of your marred skin. Judging by the heavily keratinized markings, the injury had no doubt been painful when incurred originally. Azriel’s fingers twitched again, wanting to touch your face, hold you as he kissed away your grief.

“From Beron’s dogs,” you breathed, rolling you shoulders, as if shaking the memory from your mind. “They wouldn’t heal when I was out there,” you clicked your tongue, “granted I was starving,” you sighed, “but that’s a story for another day.” You looked at him then, and he had to steady himself at the emotions pooling in your eyes.

He’d already planned on killing Beron if the opportunity presented for what had happened with Mor, but for you, he’d make it hurt. He’d drag it out and make it slow. He’d torture him for days, flaying skin from bone, taking fingers then limbs and when at last he begged for death, Azriel would set the dogs on him and laugh as they tore him apart. He felt a long repressed need for vengeance creep up his spine, and he hated to acknowledge what its presence meant in regards to you.

“It’s okay, you know,” you’d said, head lolling to the side as you watched him, eyes swimming with a gentle affection, “I’ll never judge you for something like that.” Azriel squeezed his eyes shut as he turned his head from you and breathed in tightly. How did always manage to be so fucking disarming and vulnerable? That must’ve been a gift too.

He pinched the middle finger of the right glove and pulled it from his hand, grasping his now exposed fingers into a fist, knuckles cracking. He extended that arm out, palm up as he let you view his deepest insecurity, the thing he hated most in his appearance.

You’d stepped forward, looking at his palm. Your hands went to reach but you’d paused, looking to his eyes as you silently asked permission to touch. He nodded stiffly, watching you with the same intensity of an animal being hunted, prey ready to bolt at any moment.

Your fingers touched his hand, and he felt the connection race up his arm and to his chest, settling in his heart. Your eyes studied, and you rotated his hand, fingers gently tracing from his wrist, to knuckle, to fingernail in reverence. You covered his hand with your own, moving your eyes to his hazel ones. “Are they dead?” You’d asked seriously, and he stuttered a shocked laugh. “Yes, Little One, they are,” he answered, a small smile playing at his mouth. The two of you far too similar it seemed. “Good,” you’d said simply before kissing his knuckles and pulling the glove back on for him. The action was quietly intimate, and Azriel should’ve kissed you then. Mother knows he considered it, eyes watching you with rapt attention as his heart sped up and breathing shallowed.

“If you two are done flirting, lunch is ready,” Cassian announced from the doorway, breaking the spell you were both under. You’d jumped and laughed freely at the large male smirking at the entrance. You grasped Azriel’s hand tightly in affection before releasing it to turn on your heel to exit the room, passing by Cass with an eye roll, thumping him square in the chest.

Cassian looked to his brother as he walked into the room and his face split into a shit eating grin. “Let’s go, loverboy,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Azriel glared, scoffing as he followed behind you, praying to whatever Gods were listening that he’d get you alone again soon.

In your second century with the Night Court, you’d lessened the blatant flirting and settled into loving, easy friendship. You regularly attended balls and galas in Hewn City, fitting into such pomp with practiced ease, but always with a dagger strapped to your thigh, ready to cut a male down in seconds. Those events were almost routine at this point: Azriel would save you a dance, and you’d move together in a slow ritual that you’d both perfected over the years, he’d bow as the violinist played their final note and resume his place on dais at Rhys’ right. His eyes would follow you the rest of the night, as you spoke in an airy manner to various high fae, glaring at any male whose hands ventured too close to his mate.

Nights when the Court held parties at the House of Wind were different though. You were far less rigid, finding it easy to exist without scrutiny. Those were the nights Azriel’s eyes rarely left your form as he watched obsessively from the corners of the room.

“You’re staring,” Rhys chimed from his place next to Azriel, eyes not leaving the crowd as he spoke to the Shadowsinger, mouth smirking. Azriel was staring. You’d worn cobalt blue tonight, a lovely color on your skin. His color on your skin. Mother above, the male possessiveness that crawled up his spine was unreal. Mate, mate, mate, his shadows had sang in his ear. He wanted to pluck the eyes from every male in the room for even glancing in your direction. He wanted so much more than that too. Your breathy sighs as he marked you, your moan as he made you come undone, his name crying from your lips as he ate his come from your cunt after. Azriel had a million and one scenarios running through his head. He yearned to make each one of them come to fruition too.

He hadn’t answered Rhysand, so the High Lord tried again, “you really should tell her, but please,” Rhys closed his eyes with a grimace, “quiet your thoughts first, for Cauldron’s sake.” That got Azriel’s attention, his back straightening and mental shield slamming down. His eyes squeezed shut, almost as if he was in pain. “I cannot burden her with that now,” he said, “not with war at our doorstep.” Indeed, the second war with Hybern creeped ever closer, disappearances of other high fae occurring daily. Whatever they were planning across the sea, it was going to bring Prythian to its knees.

Rhysand sighed then, feeling older than his 500 years. “Be that as it may, we should hold those we love tighter.” Rhysand looked to Feyre at that moment, his eyes meeting his mate’s, as he sent a strum of warm affection down the bond. She smiled and returned it cheerily. He turned back to Azriel, “if it all ends tomorrow, I know my love and she knows me. That’s all we can ask for in this immortal life.” Azriel looked back to you, and your eyes were already on him, tracing the shadows that wound around his chest. You met his eyes and winked, before turning back to Mor and laughing freely.

“I thank the Cauldron daily it was you that found her in those mountains, Rhys.” Azriel spoke quietly, admitting a small secret he’d not told anyone. Rhysand softened, and clapped his friend on the shoulder, “As I am, brother.” Azriel nodded, letting the conversation die between himself and the High Lord as he drained the drink in his hand and moved down the steps in your direction.

You’d been in conversation with Mor when he approached. She was telling you of the seamstress she’d been seeing, and how happy she was. Azriel cleared his throat from behind the two of you and you turned to meet him, taking in his appearance with wide eyes. “Ladies,” he started, bowing to you and Mor, who snorted at the silly formality. “And that note, I’ll be taking my leave. I’ve got a lady to see,” she said with a wink and a flourish of her red dress. You laughed and shook your head before turning back to the Shadowsinger. He’d caught you staring earlier and your heart had nearly jumped into your throat, before Mor mocked you lightly, diffusing the tension.

“Hi Az,” you greeted softly, before dropping your empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray and thanking them. Azriel watched you closely, noting the revealed skin that shifted with each movement, committing every angle and freckle to memory.

“You want to get out of here?” He dared ask, jerking his head toward the private balcony on the House of Wind. You raised a brow, Azriel? Asking you to leave? Together? You heart was back in your throat and you thanked the Mother that you’d taken your time getting ready that evening. Nodding, you grasped his arm as he offered it to you like a proper courtier. He walked the two of you up a round of stairs and away from the eyes he’d threatened earlier in the night. Voices dulled the more space you put between yourselves and them and you couldn’t help but start to sweat a bit at the thought of being alone with Azriel.

You’d been friends for nearly two centuries, but you’d always felt a connection with the male. Your heart thrummed with a warm, golden affection when he got close. It made keeping a clear head during training hard. It made sitting next to him at dinner difficult. And when he’d looked at you like you hung the moon as you danced earlier in the night, it made you want to take him to bed and ride him until he moaned your name. You breathed deeply. ‘Focus,’ you chided yourself, ‘he is your friend, for Cauldron’s sake.’

He led you out onto to the balcony and stopped at the railing before looking up at the star flecked sky. “This is my favorite part of the House,” he said eyes scanning the sky before looking back to you as you watched him. A blush crept up his neck, before he cleared his throat again.

“I’ve always wondered what it was like to be able to fly, you know,” you said quietly, removing your hand from his arm, rolling up onto your toes, leaning against the stone railing, and looking out on Velaris before scanning your eyes up to the three stars that shone brightly overhead. “When I was a child, I met a Peregryn from the Dawn Court and thought she had the most beautiful wings I’d ever seen.” You chanced a glance his way, “I’d not met an Illyrian yet.” You reminded with a smirk, bumping his arm with fondness. Gods, he was in trouble.

“I asked her what it was like and she said it was the purest sense of freedom possible.” You glanced down at your feet, “I spent the next year wishing for wings.” He mulled on your words. He wanted to say something cheesy as Cassian would, like ‘I’ll be your wings’ but he couldn’t, so you continued on.

“When I was a little older, I witnessed a blue skinned lesser fae’s wings ripped from his body as punishment and it was the most gruesome thing I’d seen at that point.” You took a shuddering breath, “I cried for him that night. The lost freedom. How maddening it must’ve been.” You looked at him then and he watched you with furrowed brows. “How does it feel for you?” You asked softly, eyes tracing the shine of his wing. ‘Magnificent things,’ you thought. You remembered seeing his wings for the first time and thinking the Peregryn had finally moved to second place in your mind.

Azriel had to gather himself as he spoke, “It’s… everything.” He said quietly adjusting his body to extend a wing. “My ability to fly came in late,” he said, and your eyes widened, you hadn’t known that. “My childhood was… rough and I didn’t learn to fly until I was nearly grown.” He laughed, scuffing the toe of his boot, wings folding in behind him. “It was a lot of crash landings those first months.” You snorted, mental image of a younger Az, landing in a puddle of mud crossing your mind.

“I was never a proud Illyrian, not like the others,” he continued, “it was hard for me to reconcile my heritage and our traditions.” He looked to the cityscape then, “but the stronger I got, the more I understood why flight was so crucial to my people.” He looked to you, eyes shining, “it’s the closest we can get to the stars.”

You leaned over the railing again, staring wistfully at the night sky, the moon reflecting on your skin. “Will you take me someday? Flying, I mean.” Did you not know Azriel would give you the world? Of course he’d take you flying. He’d give you the moon, the stars, walk through fire and back, anything. He nodded, “you say the word, and I’ll fly you the the ocean and back.” The smile that broke across your face crippled him, his knees threatened to give way.

“Yours are my favorite,” you murmured softly, eyes glancing from his wings to his face. Azriel blushed in full, pink speckling his neck and cheeks as he laughed. “Don’t let Cass hear you say that, he’s got an ego,” he said, a smile remaining at his lips. You liked him like this the most. Loose, smiling, free. You reached up then, cupping his reddened cheek, thumb stroking. “I don’t care,” you said smiling, “it’s the truth.” Azriel swallowed roughly, staring at your eyes swimming with an emotion he knew, but was much too stubborn and scared to name.

Just as your hand went to retreat, he grasped it between his own. “You can touch them,” he offered, knowing damn well the implications, “if you want,” he added. Your eyes widened. Mor had mentioned once that Illyrian’s wings were ‘sensitive,’ was the word she’d used. It was a sign of great intimacy and trust to allow another to touch them. You felt the air shift between you two then, as you nodded.

He extended a wing toward you. This felt so much like the first time he’d shown you his hands all those years ago. Your hand crept forward and gentle fingers met the red gold membrane that stretched between two metacarpals. Your fingers traced the membrane in smooth circles, then traced up to the crest. Azriel felt his breath gutter out of his mouth in a loud, choppy exhale, and he felt himself harden at the sensation of your fingers against the most sensitive portion of his wings. You gasped and jerked away at the sudden noise, before apologizing. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten carried away.”

Azriel shook his head, “It’s not that, they’re sensitive.” There was that word again, only it made you think of how they’d been shredded before the King of Hybern, and you opened your mouth to apologize again, but he stopped you short. “I haven’t allowed another to touch them freely since my mother.” The admission floored you, your gut giving way with a breath.

You looked to his eyes then, the air between you had shifted again and you knew this was it. This was the moment you’d waited for, he was going to kiss you. Mother, it felt you’d waited a millennia, and he felt just the same. But that kiss never came. Instead, Azriel went stock still, his eyes now on the House behind you.

“Azriel?” You questioned. “It’s Rhys,” he said tightly, “he’s summoning me.” You understood then. He looked to you desperately, eyes a little wild and apologetic. “I’m sorry, I have to go to him.” You nodded, you both worked for the High Lord, you’d never get in the way of Azriel’s allegiance to his Court. “Of course,” you said quietly, taking a step back and swallowing down your disappointment.

Azriel took three steps towards the entrance then stopped. “I’ll take you,” he turned around, backing his way to the arched stone, but keeping his eyes on you for a moment longer. “When I get back, I’ll take you flying,” he offered. Another smile etched its way across your face and Azriel took a long moment to memorize it greedily. “It’s a date,” you said confidently. He beamed then, turning on a heel to pick up into a jog, Rhys no doubt shouting to hurry up.

That date hadn’t happened though. The second war with Hybern broke out days later and you both barely made it out alive.

When Feyre had come to Velaris after Amarantha’s defeat, you’d accepted her with easy friendship. You saw Rhysand, your longtime friend, overcome with love for his newly found mate, and you couldn’t help but love her as well. You’d shared your story with her and the two of you bonded deeply over her art. She’d offered to teach you to paint, and you began taking lessons in your off time. Rhys had been Cauldron blessed with her and you reminded him daily.

Later, when Feyre’s sisters joined their little unit, you’d been the first one to break Nesta’s tough exterior. The female saw parts of herself in you and you’d gotten her to crack a smile when you mocked Rhys’ High Lord voice at dinner one night. Elain had been a tougher sell, but you’d tried, along with Azriel, to bring the female out of her shell. The day she joined you in the library to read, you knew progress had been made, even if you two had only sat in silence a few feet apart, a small smile gracing her features.

You left her book recommendations with small notes and she began to do the same. Your friendship playing out in the margins of the library’s tomes. You won her over with silent conversation. Nesta noticed, of course, and she looked to you with gratitude as she saw her sister’s eyes brightened and skin began to return to its normal, healthy color. The night Azriel mentioned it as you walked down the hall toward the dining room for the family meal, you’d shrugged. “I met her where she needed me to,” you’d said quietly, glancing to your feet. Azriel smiled, a Cauldron blessed gift indeed.

Dinners at the House of Wind were by far Azriel’s favorite version of you. You’d laugh with abandon, smile splitting your face, showing every tooth as Mor cracked a joke and leaned against you for support, one too many drinks in her system. The first time he’d seen that smile, it blinded him, and he’d gone a little dazed, staring at you in wonderment. Rhys had interrupted his train of thought with an invasive insertion of “How quickly she reduced you to a puddle, brother.” Azriel had scowled at Rhys then, mental shields firming up, but not before he heard the distinct sound of his High Lord laughing at the Spymaster’s defensiveness.

Indeed Azriel was gone for you. When Cassian finally confronted him last year about the truth of his feelings, Azriel saw no point to avoid it any longer, not after his brothers had also found their mates. “Our souls are one in the same, she’s my mate,” he’d said pensively, as if he was letting his deepest secret breath in the light for the first time in centuries. Maybe he was. He’d made Cassian promise on his life not to tell anyone, and despite being the biggest gossip in the Inner Circle, he kept his promise. He was thrilled for his brother, knowing you were the perfect match.

Little did Azriel know, everyone else was already more than aware of his affections. Amren had figured it out a century prior when Azriel had tended your needs as you’d recovered from an injury sustained during a mission. He’d fretted around you like a mother hen, buying you flowers, sweets, and books while you were bedridden. The female had watched and hummed with a raised eyebrow as Azriel exited your room for the fifth time in one day, wringing his hands with worry despite Madja’s clean bill of health.

Feyre had figured it out the same year she’d returned from the Spring Court, just before the second war with Hybern. She’d seen the way his eyes had followed you in the war room Rhys had created to host strategy meetings. Saw him lean towards you when you spoke, saw his wings flutter when you finally cast your gaze to him, eager for your attention. More than anything, she’d seen his shadows, desperate little things, sneaking across the floor each night, sidling up your ankles and wrists, begging for your affection. You always laughed and nuzzled them as the wound their way to your hair and Azriel went a little soft at the sight.

When she told Mor, the blonde had laughed, “They’ve been circling each for two hundred years now, eventually one of them will cave.” Mor leveled a sardonic look at Feyre then, “and when they do, we’ll all have to relocate to the River House for a year lest we be subject to the frenzy.”

This mission should’ve been simple. Rhys had asked you to check out reports of rogue soldiers spotted making their way towards the border of the Night Court from the Day coastline. The intel he’d received had mentioned three to four maximum, all of them drunken ex-Hybern loyalists. It should’ve been a matter of locating them, spying for a day or two, then winnowing in to neutralize any threat. Gods, this was far from simple.

When you’d arrived in the region, the hairs on your neck rose, the air itself feeling off. As you tracked them, you’d noticed intentional attempts to throw you off course. A carelessly trashed map, crudely laid tracks in the opposite direction, Dawn Court wine bottles that had been emptied and tossed about. They knew you were there, and you quickly realized that a trap had been laid. You backed off them then, staying further than you’d have liked, but trying like hell to make them think you’d given up.

On your fourth night following them, you’d drifted away to an inn two towns over, desperately seeking a place to bathe and rest, even for a few hours. As you bathed, you felt watched in a way that discomfited you to your core, and your dagger stayed within arms reach the rest of the night. Suddenly, the role you’d played for the last two hundred years had left you entirely ill equipped for whatever was happening here.

You’d left out before dawn, refusing to lose an ounce of daylight, but as you hit the tree line, readying yourself to winnow out, you’d noticed it. Hanging from a tree, a hundred yards away was a piece of clothing, your clothing. Clothing that should’ve been in the pack at your back. Your breath shuttered out of you as you opened your mind to Rhys, asking for back up. You were in over your head and you knew when to admit it. There was no pride in getting yourself killed.

As you turned to move back to the inn where you could wait out contact from Rhys in a public location, you were met with a pair of shining blue eyes. You stepped back, keeping your grounding, readying for a fight. “You’ve been following us,” the stranger said calmly, beginning to trek in a slow circle around you. You opened your mind to Rhys again, “Help,” you called. Rhys answered this time, “Where are you?!” It was a frantic response, you never asked for help, Rhys knew this. “Just off the coast, beneath the mountain range, Day court border, 400 hundred paces from the inn” you spoke to Rhys in choppy thoughts, trying to establish a location before all hell broke loose.

“I have,” you finally answered the stranger, whose lips quirked at your voice. He stopped circling and resumed his stance in front of you, blocking passage to the inn. “Why?” He asked and you tried to keep your mind steady as you answered. “You’re trespassers in these lands” you stated simply, shrugging a shoulder up. He grinned then, “had your lot not gotten in the way of our King’s plans, these would be our lands. We were promised them. I was personally promised the Court of Nightmares.”

“Well,” you shrugged feigning indifference, “that’s not how the war played out, so I will have to ask you to leave,” you offered in your most bored political tone. The same tone you’d used with High Fae that ran off at the mouth in Hewn City. The stranger cocked his head the side then, eyes twinkling, “I don’t think I will.” At that moment, one by one, additional soldiers appeared from the forest line. One, then four, then ten, until near twenty stood around you, looking on with hatred.

Shit.

“We’d hoped for the Illyrians, but it seems your High Lord sent us a treat instead,” the stranger said with mirth. You steeled your spine, looking down your nose at the stranger, “They’re going to kill you, you know.” He’d laughed at your threat. “I think not,” he said as as arrow was released from your left, finding purchase in your shoulder. You folded over on yourself at the blow, and looked up baring your teeth, before drawing your dagger and rushing the stranger with a feral sound.

Five more arrows hit you before your blade could find its target. One into your hip, two in your back, a fourth piercing your in your upper thigh, until the last burrowed into the back of your knee, bringing you down in front of him — forcing you to bow to the stranger. The arrows were laced with faebane you realized as you’d begun to feel its effects in your blood. Your power waning quickly, thoughts becoming murky.

You released another shattered thought to Rhys then, “Tell him, please,” you begged raggedly. Rhysand came back with a rushed and tight, “Hold on, Little One, we’re coming.” You shook your head, there wasn’t time. “Tell Azriel I love him if I don’t make it, Rhys, promise me.” He responded but it muddled out, sounding like words shouted through a pool of water, then your brain fell quiet. The line severed.

The stranger lifted your head, hand wrapped around your throat, as he bent to meet your crouched form. “I’ll be sure to savor this,” he smiled and the hilt of his sword came in fierce contact with your forehead.

It was the early morning on your fifth day away when Rhys heard you. “Help,” it had come through so clearly that it startled Rhys awake and set his heart to racing. You’d only asked for help once, during the war when you were overrun and near death. You were in danger.

He’d sat up straight in bed, Feyre still sleeping silently at his side, hand resting on her pregnant stomach. “Where are you?!” He’d asked down the line, a little frantic, remembering the state he and Azriel had found you in last time. Gods, you’d been run through on a Hybern soldier’s sword, the damage was astronomical. Azriel had nearly killed everyone within a mile radius at the sight of you.

You recited your location in short bursts and Rhys focused on the bond of your bargain, using it to locate you with more precision. He reached out to Azriel then, “Get Cassian and meet me downstairs. Be ready to fly.” Azriel responded an affirmative and Rhys rushed around his room, grabbing his dagger lined belt, and using his magic to dress in his leathers quickly. He winnowed to the base of the stairs and was glad to find Cassian and Azriel waiting.

“Tell him, please” you begged into Rhys’ mind then, words growing ragged. Rhys’ eyes slammed shut with a wince and he attempted to reassure you, “Hold on, Little One, we’re coming.” Rhys opened his eyes and looked to Azriel, who was watching him with anticipation. You responded again, words growing murkier, a little warbled. “Tell Azriel I love him if I don’t make it, Rhys, promise me.” Rhysand felt sick. “We will find you and you will tell him yourself,” he spoke but the bond was dead, silent, foreboding. Rhys thought he might vomit.

He looked to Azriel again, “It’s her. She’s in trouble. We have to go.” Azriel’s face darkened with a thunderous ferocity. Mother help the males who’d harmed you. “Where?” He asked, voice deep with the threat of murderous violence. “The wilds on the border, off the coast of Day. I’ll winnow us as close as possible.” Azriel nodded his acquiesce and lifted a trembling hand to his hair, running scarred fingers through the strands. Cassian spoke then, “we will get her back,” he’d said softly as Rhysand put his hands to the two of them, preparing for the jump. “And we will kill every last one of them,” Cassian added darkly as blue-black shadows encased them and they disappeared.

You awoke with a start, gasping like you’d been underwater. Your shoulders ached from your position. You pulled on your hands only to realize you were shackled to a tree somewhere deep in the forest, the same forest you’d been on the outskirts of earlier. You looked up to the sky, trying to find the sun to gauge how much time had passed. The sun had long moved past midday and was sinking towards the evening horizon. Your throat tightened. Where was Rhysand?

“Nice of you to join us,” a voice spoke. It was the stranger again, he emerged from the camp set two hundred paces to your left, hidden by shrubs and underbrush. You got a good look at him this time. He was tall, leanly muscular in a way that reminded you of Lucien Vanserra. His hair was a dishwater blonde and lacked any sheen, falling in choppy dry waves around his shoulders. His face was gaunt, eyes sunken, bruised with a lack of rest, and his cheekbones were sharp, giving his face an angle that made him look harsh and unforgiving. Though he carried himself with confidence, you noticed a slight, barely there limp in his right leg, an old wound perhaps, one that never healed correctly. You noted that for later, if you ever got out of these shackles.

You leveled a glare at him that you hoped looked more fearsome than you felt. Mother, your bones ached and your wounds throbbed. “I left the arrows in, but broke off the shaft. Didn’t want to have you healing too quickly.” He spoke with nonchalance, while polishing a dagger, your dagger, you realized as your eyes focused. You pulled at the shackles above your head, and the stranger chuckled at your attempt.

“What do you want?” Your voice croaked, mouth dry from disuse. The stranger laughed, pointing the blade at you, “I want my fucking court and you’re the key to getting it.” You shook your head then, “I am nothing.” The words sounded foreign on your tongue, a lie on some level, you knew this, but you would be damned before you gave up your family. The stranger clicked his tongue at your response, shaking his head.

“Surely you don’t believe that? The High Lord doesn’t trust easily, you’ve been seen with his entourage. The Shadowsinger’s whore.” He squatted a few feet from you, eyes tracing from your tied hands down to your face, pausing at your breasts, before trekking down your stomach, thighs, and calves. He was sizing up how much fight you had left.

Your brain had short circuited though, the Shadowsinger’s whore. Mother above, you’d never even kissed. How long had this male watched you and your family? How had none of you seen it? A bitter laugh wretched from your lungs, “sorry to disappoint, but the Shadowsinger isn’t mine.” No matter how desperately I’ve wished it so, you added silently.

The stranger grinned then, “if you are truly nothing, then I’ll make this a little sweeter.” He took steps towards you, raising the dagger to rest at your chin, the blade pressing to the underside painfully. “You’re far too pretty to be nothing.” He ran the blade along the column of your throat, resting it against your sternum, between your breasts. You pushed yourself further into the tree, back protesting as the arrows burrowed deeper with the movement. You didn’t like the new angle this interaction had taken and your fight or flight instincts were screaming.

You attempted to reach out to Rhysand, but the bond was dead silent. Your breathing hitched at the realization that you were truly alone in this. The stranger chuckled, dragging the blade down your chest, slicing the leathers, letting the fabric fall open and reveal your undergarments to his greedy view. Your legs moved to kick, but you realized quickly they too were tied. The blade came to rest at your bare stomach, and the stranger dug it in below the navel, causing blood to pool there. You winced, but made no sound.

“Ah, I was hoping you’d be louder than that,” the stranger smirked, “I’ll have to try harder.” He backed up then and pulled a whip from his back pocket, unfurling it with a crack. Your eyes widened and you brain went silent, fear overtaking your senses. “There it is,” his smile gleamed with violent delight, “there’s the reaction I was hoping for.” He reared an arm back before cracking the whip in your direction. The leather made contact with your torso, a stinging slice appearing along your rib cage. You jerked, but bit your tongue.

He cracked it again and again until you were bloody, slices in your leathers, festering wounds along your breasts, ribs, and stomach. You’d counted to 25 lashes before your brain gave out and your vision blurred from the pain. You looked up to the sky wearily. The sun was gone and the stars were slowly appearing. You smiled at them, remembering Azriel’s words from that night all those years ago.

You hoped he’d forgive you for not telling him. You hoped he’d understand your fear in revealing that secret, that the bond had snapped for you during the war. When that Hybern soldier’s sword pierced your armor, running through your body to the hilt, and he’d let out a fearsome bellow from across the field at the sight. You felt it then, the golden strumming taking the form of a fated thread linking you two. You been near death when he and Rhys had found you and the only thing you could do was smile. Such an ironic thing it was to die in the arms of your mate.

Your head lolled to the side as exhaustion threatened to overtake you. “Azriel,” your thoughts ventured, calling down the bond he didn’t even know existed, “I love you.” Darkness swam in the corners of your vision but you swore you felt his responding tug. The Mother was kind for granting that hallucinative mercy in your final hours. Your body gave out, slumping against the shackles and darkness overwhelmed you.

Azriel was furious. No, furious wasn’t the word, he was a walking time bomb. You were gone. His mate was missing and he was going to explode. As he’d arrived with Rhys and Cassian to the location you’d given them, he could smell you. His eyes searched frantically around the scene before him until they zeroed in on an item hanging from a branch a few dozen paces out. Cloth of some sort? He approached and could detect your scent on it, realizing quickly it was your clothing. A ripped cotton blouse. His fists clenched and he vaguely heard Rhysand speaking to his left. “They must’ve captured her here.” Rhys crouched down to the ground, two fingers swiping the dirt there, before bringing them eye level to examine sample. “Blood,” he muttered, rubbing the hand on the leg of his pants, “she was injured.” Azriel’s heart thundered, he was going to fucking explode.

He set his shadows work, surveying the forest with rapid precision. They’d cover more ground this way, an army of three operating like a whole infantry. By the time the sun rose to midday, Azriel was ready to begin screaming. They trekked further into the forest, following a line of smoke that was miles deep, originating at a camp somewhere far into the wilds. His shadows murmured to him of a small band of males there, of you, shackled to a fucking tree, arrows buried in your back. He’d nearly lost the contents of his stomach at the information and set to a run alongside Rhysand and Cassian.

As the three approached the encampment, the sun was nearing dusk. Rhysand had commanded the halt and strategize. There were roughly twenty-five men, all armed. They couldn’t enter this blindly and infuriated, they would lose if they weren’t careful. Azriel hated admitting he was right, his instincts screaming otherwise. Mate, mate, mate, his heart pounded.

They backed off to a thousand paces out, close enough that they could hear if the troop vacated the premises. As Rhysand and Cassian spoke quietly, Azriel felt his heart thrum. The golden thread there had pulled him closer to you and he could tell you were still alive. Though Rhys couldn’t reach out through your bargain, Azriel’s bond was still alight and warm, he stroked it with gentle affection. You might not feel it, but Gods he would try.

As the trio retraced their steps to the camp, stars were just beginning to light overhead and Azriel grasped his daggers tightly, knuckles cracking around the hilt. He was going to kill them. Kill them all brutally for taking you, for touching what was his. When they were within a stones throw from the camp he heard it, heard you. “Azriel,” you whispered into his mind. He went stock still, spine ramrod straight, fingers trembling as they gripped his knives. The golden bond vibrated in his chest, and he felt you reaching out through murky waters, against all odds. “I love you,” you said with a soft exhaustion before your side went dark. Azriel’s breathing guttered and he felt high on mirthroot, sick from fae wine, and enraged to the point of explosion all at once. His blue siphons flared brightly from the surge of power. He closed his eyes and reached out to you through the bond, tugging on the thread connecting your souls. He was coming. He was going to save you.

Rhysand looked to him then, curiosity swimming in his eyes as he took in the Shadowsinger’s sudden stop. Azriel opened eyes, irises alight with fire and shadow, voice grinding with dark threat, “Let’s go.” Rhys nodded and Cassian drew his knives.

They moved with brutal efficiency, killing male after male until none remained alive. Some had begged, others shouted and scattered their belongings as they set into a run. His shadows had caught them, twisting around their ankles and dragging them back to meet their fate, daggers slicing throats from ear to ear until blood poured like a prized hunt being slaughtered, the Illryian’s hands grasping and snapping necks like twigs. It was a practiced routine for the three of them, who’d trained since they were teens.

As they stepped through the shrubs to find you, Cassian gasped and Azriel felt his lungs threaten to collapse at the sight. You’d been shackled to a tree at the wrists and ankles and whipped within an inch your life. Wounds glistened with blood along your thighs, soft stomach, ribs, breasts. There had to be thirty lashes. A knife wound was visible at your exposed navel. Your head hung forward unconscious and Azriel’s heart pounded. He wanted to vomit and his hands shook.

“She said you’d come,” a voice said, emerging from behind the tree you were bound to. The male held a dagger to your throat. This new stranger had to be the leader of this band of idiots. Azriel’s eyes followed the tip of the blade up his arm to the male’s eyes and a growl escaped him as he bared his teeth. The male laughed, “to think she said she was nothing and yet I have both the Shadowsinger and the Lord of Bloodshed before me to save her.”

Azriel’s mind latched on to that piece of information, turning it over in his head. You’d told this male you were nothing? Did you not know Azriel would do anything for you? You were everything. You were his love, light of his life, keeper of his soul, his mate. How alone you must’ve felt, how scared. Azriel’s eyes narrowed, he was going kill him.

Rhysand spoke then, emerging from behind the two Illyrian brothers, “And may I ask why you’ve abducted a member of my court?” He was in High Lord mode, tone bored, fingers picking at his sleeve. The Hybern male’s smile gleamed at the introduction, “just who I was hoping to see!”

“Hybern, the old fool, made a few promises in his last days as King,” the male spoke, digging the blade down to your chest, where it rested over your heart. Azriel stared at the blade, eyes tracing to the the hilt. That was your blade, the one he’d given you when you first arrived in Velaris, the one you wielded against Eris, the one you kept strapped to your thigh. Your own knife had been used against you.

“One of which was that I would inherit these lands after your lot were annihilated.” Azriel wanted to laugh at the male’s words, was he serious? “A dead king cannot honor empty promises,” he ground out eyes shifting to the male’s blue eyes. “A dead and headless king cannot gift you shit,” Azriel spat. The male smiled then, a feline grin growing on his lips. “Precisely Shadowsinger, a dead king cannot give me my due, but this little thing can help.” You’d made a noise then, something akin to a whimper as you came to. Eyes wincing then fluttering open as your irises found Azriel’s immediately, some preternatural magnetism existing between the two of you. Then you looked to Cassian and Rhysand, and your eyes swam with apology.

“She awakens!” The male sang, looking to you. Azriel jumped at the opportunity to send his shadows out while the male’s attention was elsewhere. They traced over the ground to you, circling the tree and working at your binds. He sent two others towards the distracted male. “Who knew the Night Court was so attached to a whore,” the male laughed, “I want my lands,” he fixed Rhysand with a glare, “you can have your plaything back in exchange for my seat, High Lord” he sneered.

Rhysand looked from you to the stranger to the shadow now creeping ever closer to the male. “You must be mistaken,” Rhys said then and Azriel’s shadows wrapped around the male’s neck and wrist simultaneously, whispering violence for touching their mate, forcing the dagger from his grasp and air from his lungs. Azriel tightened them until they heard bones crack in the male’s arm and choked sounds exit his throat, face reddening as oxygen was cut off. “I do not make deals with dim witted cunts,” Rhysand said darkness beginning to surround him, High Lord voice encroaching, “I do not entertain terrorists and I do not take kindly to threats on my family.”

‘Finish him,’ Rhysand said darkly into Azriel’s mind and the Shadowsinger moved with lightening precision, dagger find purchase as the male’s neck was sliced open and his right hand was removed from his body. The male’s body toddled forward with a choked gurgling, before falling to the ground, lifeless, blood pooling.

Azriel’s gaze fell to you and he softened. His shadows finished picking the lock of the shackles that held your arms and they clicked open, allowing your body to fall into his. “Azriel,” you breathed, voice weary with exhaustion, “I didn’t— I—“ you stuttered, pulling a shaking hand to his face. You swallowed, tracing his cheek with trembling fingers, “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” you murmured, your watery eyes searching his face, memorizing the details of his visage.

Azriel picked you up in his arms and unfurled his wings protectively. “I will always come for you,” he said vehemently, eyes watching your face with intensity. You smiled, a weepy trembling smile as you nodded. Rhysand reached the Shadowsinger’s side then and your eyes moved to his violet ones, “Hi Little One, I’m so sorry we’re late.” You let out a single watery laugh before wincing as the sudden expansion of your chest burned the wounds littering your chest and back.

“The arrows,” you gasped, “at my back,” you twisted in Azriel’s hold, “please get them out.” Rhysand leaned down to inspect the wounds. “Faebane,” he surmised, that’s why his connection to you had been severed. “We need to get her to Madja, now.” Azriel nodded, allowing Rhys and Cassian to move closer so the High Lord could winnow them home.

Landing back at the House of Wind had been chaotic. Rhysand shouted immediately to get every healer available and the dining room table had been lined with a sheet, turning the warm family room into a medical ward. You were laid facedown on the table and Azriel took to your side, scarred hands touching your face, keeping you awake as Madja worked to remove the six arrows burrowed in your body.

You’d screamed. The sound would haunt Azriel for centuries. You begged to make it stop and Madja had apologized softly as she worked faster to remove them while minimizing damage. “I’ve got you,” Azriel said softly, “eyes on me, alright?” He rubbed the hollow under your eye with a scarred thumb and you opened your eyes to lock on his. “No gloves,” you said, smiling tightly, before wincing as Madja applied local anesthetic to an arrow wound. Azriel smiled, eyes a little watery. “Not with you,” he whispered shaking his head, “never with you.” You smiled at him and the sight set Azriel’s heart to fluttering.

Later, after the arrows had been removed and wounds bandaged, you’d been given a strong herb tonic for pain that set your head swimming as exhaustion overtook you. Azriel carried you his room, laying you gently onto the mattress and covered you with the duvet. He leaned down then, breathing in your scent as he placed a kiss to your forehead, nuzzling his nose to the Winter white hair there. He would tell you. When you awoke, he would bare his soul to you.

You woke with a groan. Fucking Gods, your body ached with the effort it took to roll over. “Easy,” a voice came from the corner of the room. Your breath gasped out of you as your eyes raced to the figure there. “Azriel,” you breathed. The male smiled warmly at you and stepped forward to rest at the edge of the mattress. You pushed up in the bed, the wound at your shoulder screaming from the exertion. Once in a sitting position, you rested your back on the headboard as you looked at him. “For taking out a small militia, you seemed to be decently uninjured,” you said smiling tightly, memories of the stranger and his whip haunting your mind. He snorted a small laugh, “Yes well,” he looked down then, thumbs fiddling with each other, chest heating, “I had something worth fighting for.”

He looked back to you and your cheeks had grown pink, a small pleased smile at your lips. “I heard you, you know,” he said softly, turning enough to rest a hand on your thigh, thumb drawing small, soothing circles there. The heat generated in the touch sent a spark to your belly. Oh, you were fucked. “I heard you in my head, through the bond,” he said eyes watching his thumb as it traced on your bare skin hypnotically.

“You know then?” You whispered, breath skittering out of you. You were scared to death of the trajectory the conversation was taking, your heart preparing for the best and the worst simultaneously. Azriel’s eyes dragged up your form to your face and a smile broke over his lips, one that caused your heart to ignite. Your Mother had once told you the heart was an organ of fire and you’d laughed, never having cause to believe such a statement. You understood now.

“I—“ Azriel started, before clearing his throat, turning his body to face you in full, a knee pulled up on the mattress, touching yours. “In the whole time I have known you— two centuries, Little One,” he looked at you pointedly, “you have been my dearest friend, my greatest comfort, my confidant, and the person I admire most in this Gods forsaken world.” He breathed deeply, a whoosh exiting his lips as his hand tightened around your thigh. “The times when you were lost to me have been some of the most painful moments I’ve experienced.”

Your eyes began to water, and you moved a hand to rest atop his own, thumb circling the scarred skin at his wrist. He took a breath then and the air shifted between you, his mouth opening and closing, as if he was gathering his confidence for what he was about to say next. “I have loved for you so long that I’d given up all hope of reciprocation.” The words shattered through you as all air escaped your lungs, guts swooping down as heat alighted there. “I felt the bond the night Eris came for you,” he continued, eyes watching your entwined hands. Your body went still and a startled laugh exited your mouth. Azriel’s eyes flew to yours questioningly.

“Sorry,” you chuckled again, “I’m just realizing how fucking stupid we’ve been.” You lolled your to the side, watching him with loving eyes. “I’ve been in love with you for almost two centuries, Azriel,” you smiled, “I thought you wouldn’t want me.” Azriel’s eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief, two then three times. You thought for a second to compare him to the guppy fish that swam in schools along the banks of the Sidra but refrained.

He pushed forward then, hands coming to cup your face, pinky and ring fingers resting in the hollow below your ear, thumbs stroking your cheeks. “How could I not? You’re everything,” he whispered, searching your face, conviction showing in his eyes. You couldn’t stop the smile that overtook your mouth as you spoke, “and you’re my mate.” His eyes moved to your lips, glazing before they moved back to your eyes. “As you are mine,” he spoke confidently.

Your eyes watched each other for a long second, “I really hope you’ll kiss me this time,” your hand trailed up his arm, fingers teasing. “Mother knows I’ve been dreaming of it for far too long.” He surged forward, lips meeting yours and you thought you might float away. You gasped and his tongue moved in, claiming your mouth, your taste with his own.

He pulled away minutes later, a little breathless, “Sorry to have kept you waiting, my love,” he spoke, resting his forehead to yours with a smile, watching your dazed expression, pink cheeks, as your lips split into a grin. Your hand moved to the front of his button down, fisting in the material there, giving an experimental tug. “Kiss me like that again and I’ll consider forgiving you.”

The laugh that came out of him was golden, and you pushed yourself to memorize it. Azriel, Lord of Shadows, Spymaster for the Night Court, Rhysand’s right hand and Illyrian warrior was soft for you. He loved you. He was your mate. You’d be giddy about it for the rest of your life.

Your healing had been slower than you would’ve liked. The faebane had done serious damage but with Madja’s help, the scarring was minimized. The lashes at your front took two weeks to heal, the arrow wounds took three. Three fucking weeks. Meanwhile all you could think about was your mate. He hadn’t left your side in the interim. Helping you take steps, applying the wound creams that Madja had left in small glass pots, keeping you fed, making you laugh, telling you how much he loved you daily. Mother above, you were going to ruin this male.

You walked into the kitchen at the end of week three, the only evidence of your wounds now in the slight limp of your right leg and twinge in your left shoulder. The marks at your stomach and chest had diminished into barely there, silver scores. Cassian was sitting at the small table in the corner as you entered. “Hi Cass,” you greeted, “seen my mate around this morning?” It was fun calling him that, a small part of your chest swelling with pride each time.

Cassian smirked, “He’s been…… out.” Your eyes narrowed, he was being evasive. “Out where?” You asked, grabbing an apple and hopping up on the counter to watch the male. He shrugged, “No idea, Little One.” You smirked, “I know where you sleep Cassian,” you started, “is it really wise to lie to me?” Nesta strode into the kitchen, “What’s he done now?” She asked laughing. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’ve done nothing!” The male exclaimed, “She’s interrogating me on the whereabouts of her maaate.” He dragged out the vowel of the last word mockingly. Nesta took her seat next to Cassian and laughed, “Ah, him.” She looked to you then, “he’ll be around to collect you soon.”

You looked between the two, suspicion dripping from your features as you took another bite from the apple in your palm. “You two are being weird,” you stated. Nesta shrugged, nudging Cassian who smiled at her. “Just wait,” she said softly, “maybe cook yourself a meal.” Cassian’s mouth quirked with a laugh he restrained. “Right, I’m leaving, cause whatever this is,” you waved a hand at them, “is deeply odd.” You hopped off the counter and strolled to the exit. You heard them laughing softly once you were out of the room, making you roll your eyes at their antics.

You’d gone to the library after leaving the kitchen and found Elain already there. Her eyes moved to you upon your entrance and she closed her book, middle finger marking her spot. “How are you feeling?” She asked softly, eyes surveying your body for lingering damage. You sighed, falling into the sofa across from her. “I’m better,” you said quietly, “the pain is gone, scars are minimal.” You turned your eyes to her, she looked brighter than the last time you’d seen her. “How are you?” You asked in return. She smiled sweetly. “Better,” she echoed you and you wanted to laugh. “I’ve been exchanging letters with Lucien,” she added and your ears perked up.

“That’s great, Elain,” you rest your chin on a closed fist, watching her. She shifted and sat her book to the side, page forgotten. “I want to tell you something,” she said quietly, fingers twiddling with each other. She looked... nervous? “I’m all ears,” you said softly.

“I had a vision while you were gone,” she started and took a deep breath. “It was so muddled at first, I couldn’t tell who it was, but then I saw you. Your hair was longer, you stood taller, and your belly was round.” The breath left your body in a powerful exhale. She looked to you again, eyes watching yours, “You were pregnant and happy and in love,” she said quietly, as if the words in themselves were fragile. Your hands trembled and you moved them under your thighs, her eyes didn’t miss the action.

“I couldn’t understand why the Mother would send me a vision like that, I saw Feyre’s pregnancy, but we’re sisters, you know?” You nodded. “Then I realized I recognized the tattooed arm I’d seen wrap around you, knew it was Azriel.” Your eyes watered, and you hiccuped out a small laugh. “I’ve known for a while you two were fated, but the Mother was telling me for certain. I hope you know how happy we are for you.” She finished and moved to sit next you, small hand touching your knee.

“When they brought you in that night, I thought the Mother had lied to me, that it was a vision of what could have been, that you wouldn’t make it.” You’d never heard Elain speak at length in this way, and you thought you might stop breathing. “I’ve never been happier to see you than when Azriel brought you in to read days later, my sweet friend.” You surged forward, throwing your arms around the female and she returned the gesture warmly.

You sat back and looked at her then. “Thank you,” you said, voice small, a little watery. She nodded before turning to resume her original spot at the end of the sofa, picking up her book and opening it to the page she’d left off.

In the hours that followed, you’d returned to the kitchen, grateful to find Cassian and Nesta had left. You took Nesta’s advice, gathering the ingredients to build a small berry tart. It had just gone in the oven when your mate appeared in the doorway.

“Hello love,” he said casually, leaning against the door jamb. You startled, turning on your heel to find him smiling at you. “Where have you been?” You asked walking towards him and running your hands around his midsection in a hug, head resting against his chest. His arm came around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your hair, breathing in your scent. “That, my dearest one, is a surprise.”

You looked up chin resting against his chest, watching his face. “It’d better be good, I baked for you,” you said, smiling softly at the Spymaster. His eyes moved to the oven then and back to you, irises darkening, as his pupils blew a little wide. “You… baked?” He asked disbelieving, “didn’t know you knew how to bake,” he followed up playfully. You gasped and shoved him, “for that, you can starve, have fun finding another mate to bake for you.” He laughed heartily and caught your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, eyes swimming with warm affection as he pressed a kiss there. Gods, the action made lust swoop in your stomach, heat spreading.

“The fool I’d be to turn away such a female,” he said, voice deepening, lips running across your knuckles with each word. “Azriel” you breathed. “Yes?” He offered in return, still smiling, moving your knuckles back and forth against his hot mouth. “Please tell me this surprise involves you bedding me.” A growl creeped out of his throat, the thought of you under him sending lust racing down his spine and to his groin.

“It might,” he said quietly, lips resuming their exploration, tracking small kisses from your knuckles, to the joint of your thumb, the inside of your wrist where Rhys’ tattoo lingered, up the soft skin of your arm, to your elbow, until he reached the skin of your shoulder. His lips traced over the raised skin there, a small nip above the scar as he traced north to your collarbone. You’d gone to putty in his hands, head rolling to the side to bare your throat. He pressed soft kisses there, pausing at your pulse point to trace the area with his warm tongue, a whimper escaping your mouth.

“If this is going to become a regular thing, I’ll need you two to relocate to the River House,” a voice came from behind you and you jumped in shock, but your mate, he let out a possessive growl before turning on the intruder. Rhysand laughed airily and folded his arms over his chest. “Easy, brother,” he smiled, causing Azriel to roll his eyes. You blinked a little dazed, and pulled away from the Shadowsinger. “You’re gonna make me burn my fucking tart,” you shoved him with an arm and laughed as you turned to resume your place at the oven.

Azriel instructed you to dress comfortably and be ready in a hour as he kissed your knuckles one last time and exited the kitchen. Butterflies roamed freely in your stomach at the thought of what he had planned. You’d returned to your quarters after removing the tart from the oven and portioning it into a small travel sized container. You were going to accept the bond, and your nerves were alight with anxious excitement. After you dressed in a lightweight linen dress, you packed a small bag with your remaining creams, and the boxed tart you’d prepared earlier.

You descended the stairs to find Azriel waiting at the base, his wings standing proudly behind him, shadows skittering around his feet. At the sight of you they raced to meet on the bottom step, running up your legs, around your waist and into your hair. A laugh escaped you as one nuzzled into the space behind your ear. Azriel watched fondly. “They love you,” he said smiling, taking a step to meet you, “ever since the bond snapped, I’ve had the hardest time reining them back from touching you.”

You reached a hand out to meet his, interlacing your fingers. “They’re cute, but you’re cuter,” you said with gentle affection. A shadow pinched at your waist and Azriel’s cheeks went a little pink as he laughed.

“Will you tell me what the surprise is?” You asked as he walked you toward the training balcony. “I’m afraid I’m very poorly dressed for training,” you joked. He snorted, “no, we’re not training.” He came to rest at the railing and then turned to you, running a hand up your arm, fingers moving to hold the back of your neck, warm palm heating the skin there, thumb grazing your jawline. “Amongst many things I’ve been terribly late for recently, I realize I owe you a date.”

Your face went a little puzzled and you looked to his eyes. “A date?” You questioned. He nodded, “I was supposed to take you flying.” Realization dawned on your features and a smile overtook your lips, each tooth shining in the setting sun. “I wanted to kiss you that night too,” you admitted laughing, remembering how desperate you’d been for his touch and attention. He smiled softly, “you have no idea how angry I was with Rhys for calling me away.” Your eyes widened, still in disbelief that this male wanted you return. It seemed both a millennia in the making and still so new and fragile.

Azriel snuck an arm around your waist and brought you up into the stretch of his firm body. His other hand tracing down your hip, then thigh, to curve under your knees as he picked you up. His wings unfurled and he shot into the air. A shaky laugh startled out of you and you gripped him tighter, your arms winding around his neck. His wings flapped in thunderous bursts, taking you higher, until you could see the entirety of Velaris spread below, the Sidra flowing like a snake through the winding city. Your breath left you in awe. “The Peregryn was right,” you said loud enough for him to hear and he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

The flight was short, but it took you to the rural banks of the Sidra on the outskirts of the city, just before it emptied into the sea. You could see ships sailing into the harbor, moonlight beginning to trickle across the water. This was undeniably special, you thought, no one would see you up here and you felt like this was the edge of the world itself. You turned to Azriel, finding his eyes already watching you. “Thank you,” you said softly, leaning into him, his chin meeting your forehead as you moved your body to rest alongside the length of his. His hand came to rest at the small of your back, pinky stretching to graze the curve of your bottom. Wherever this was going, you were very interested.

He turned and grasped your hand, pulling you back up the hill and away from the view, towards a field of wildflowers and grasses. There, in the middle, a blanket had been laid out, small candles lit to illuminate the setting. A basket sat in one corner, a bottle of fae wine held within with an assortment of pastries, breads, and cheeses. You realized quickly that your mate, the male you’d loved for damn near two centuries, was courting you. The thought thrilled you.

He led you to the blanket and motioned for you to sit next him. “I must confess, I never took you for a romantic,” you said looking from the candles, to the basket, and then to him. He was watching you again. He smiled, laughing a bit nervously, “I’m a lot of things,” he said and your eyebrow quirked. “Oh yeah? Like what?” You challenged him and he loved you for it. You made him feel easy to love, you made loving fun and freeing. Azriel had once only thought freedom could be found in fucking and flying, then he’d found you and he knew it was there too. In the smile of your lips, in the thrill of your touch, in the ease of your love.

“Well,” he started, moving his wings to lean into you, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder. The action caused you to shiver. “I’m a spymaster.” You snorted, “no shit.” A laugh rumbled in his chest. “I’m a bit shy as you well know, I’m quite fond of dancing, I’m—” he hummed the last letter, pausing his thoughts and moving his lips up your neck. “I’m in love with you,” he said biting into the flesh at the juncture of your collarbone and throat, cock hardening at the sound that rolled out of your mouth. “I’m going to take you right here, on this blanket, under the stars.”

You gasped, your hands moved find purchase in the hair at the back of his head, fingers winding through the strands, nails dragging at his scalp. His nose ran the length of your jawline before his lips found yours. He rumbled a small hum the instant his mouth touched your own. At first it was a gentle press, teasing you as he had done today in the kitchen at the House of Wind. The adrenaline racing up your spine made you feel like you might vibrate out of your skin. His hand reached up then, threading broad fingers into your hair as he took the kiss deeper. Tonguing the bottom of your lip until your mouth opened, his tongue stroking your own. Humming with contentment, he tilted your head, deepening the kiss at a new angle that had heat swooping down to your core.

You brought your left hand to his shoulder, fisting your fingers in the fabric there and pulling him closer. He understood your intention and leaned you back into the blanket, pleasure alighting each nerve as his body pressed into your own. He eased up on your lips and began a slow trek south, pulling the strap of your dress down the curve of your shoulder, leaving a love bite there that had you gasping. He kissed down the bust line of the dress, laving his tongue at the swell of your breast. Your breath was coming in pants and you pressed yourself up on your elbows as he moved further south, fingertips tracing the hem of your dress that had risen to the middle of your thigh.

He looked back to you and smiled, mischief playing in his eyes as he ran his hands up your thighs, the slow drag pulling the dress with it. “I’ve been thinking about your cunt for centuries,” he said, his lips on your knee, pressing insistently as they moved north. “I’ve been dreaming of making you come on my tongue since I met you.”

Your breath leaves you in one fell swoop as you feel his tongue at the juncture of your hip and thigh. His mouth was insistent at skin there, tonguing the lace of your panties before pulling them down your legs and off entirely. He picked up a foot, placing it to his chest as he traced the long line of your body with hungry eyes. You were panting already, dressed rucked up around your waist, straps fallen down your arms and breasts heaving. His gaze flowed south and landed on your pink cunt, glistening, begging for him. His eyes went back to your face then, and his titled his head to the side, “Will you let me eat your pretty little cunt?” He asked fingertips tracing the scars of your calf with reverence. He brought your foot up, kissing the inside of the ankle, then nosing his way over your scarred calf, suckling at the skin there. “Please,” he added, eyes moving back to yours as his mouth continued his ministrations.

“Mother above, Azriel,” you breathed and a laughed startled out of you, “you are mouthy.” He chuckled darkly then, nipping at your knee, taking special care to press a gentle kiss at the new scar there. “Is that a no then?” He said softly and your head fell back with a groan, exposing your neck to his view. “As if,” you said, head pulling back up and lolling to the side to rest on your shoulder. “I’ve thought about it too, and if you back out now I will explode.” He laughed again, freely this time, forehead resting on your thigh.

His eyes find yours again, and he kept them there as he traced his lips north. He nosed the juncture of your cunt and inner thigh, running a tongue along your mound. You gasped and eyes narrowed, watching him with rapt attention. He pressed a kiss to the top of your slit and his hands come up to open you to him, pulling the lips apart and tonguing the collected moisture there. Your head fell back as your elbows gave way, falling flat against the blanket.

“You taste better than I imagined,” he said before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. The moan that left you had his hips pushing into the ground to find relief as his cock begged for release. His tongue flicked against your clit as he sucked and hummed. He thought this might become his favorite place in all of Prythian. He thought that every bad thing that had happened in his life seemed insignificant now that he was able to worship freely between your thighs. He traced fingers up and paused to wet them on his tongue, before pushing his middle and ring finger in to the second knuckle, pulling them out and scissoring them back in again. His tongue found your sweet little button for a second time that night and he laved at it, listening to your cries as he pushed you to the brink. Azriel’s life had been a nightmare, but between your thighs, mouth on your cunt, walls fluttering around his fingers, he thought he’d been blessed by the Mother herself.

Your hips rocked up in time with his fingers and you cried as your gut twisted, the coil there tightening. “Az-“ you gasped. “Azriel,” you went a little whiny on the vowels of his name, and your hand reached down to thread your fingers into his hair, nails scratching and tugging the strands. He hummed, the vibration sending shocks up your spine. “Azriel, baby,” you gasped, coming up on an elbow again, rutting your hips into his face as he took you higher. He didn’t let up, suckling at your cunt, fingers finding the spongy spot on the backside of your clit that made the world go blank “Azriel!” you gasped again, hips stuttering out, “Fuck, fuck— oh.” In seconds you were reaching your peak, hips faltering, thighs twitching, toes curling into the hard planes of his back.

He pulled his mouth off of you, pressing kisses to your pubic bone as he moved north up your stomach. He eyes were alight with desire, the male was pure want and you were his last meal. He pulled his fingers from your cunt and trailed them up to rest at your neck as he slotted his body between your thighs and kissed you. The hedonism of tasting yourself on his mouth made you wetter, cunt pressing into the hard line of his cock, still restricted in his trousers. He moaned at the contact, mouth leaving yours to rest his head against your chin and gather himself. The sound sent a pleasurable shock directly to your core. You grasped the hand at your throat and brought his fingers up and to your mouth, tongue laving at them before taking them to the knuckle, and pulling back slow, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking, keeping your eyes on his. He bared his teeth the sight and ground his hard cock into you, the friction on your clit making your thighs twitch.

“My sweet little mate,” he cooed. “Love of my life,” he nosed your cheek, his fingers still in your mouth. “All my dreaming has been put to shame it would seem,” he pulled his fingers from your mouth and replaced them with his tongue, his hands flying to his belt. He growled in struggle and you ventured a laugh. His eyes found yours and his jaw ticked, “keep laughing, sweet girl, I’ll fuck your throat next and you won’t come.” Your eyes went a little wide and a feline grin appeared on your face. “Mouthy indeed,” you said with glee as he finally got the buckle undone and pushed the pants down and off.

His shirt went next and your fingers traced up his exposed arms to his shoulders. “I’ve seen you shirtless a dozen times, and you still take my breath away,” you said softly, a hand resting on his pectoral. He laughed and went a little pink, before he pushed your dress up your body and over your head, leaving you bare. “I’ve always been impressed by your ability to so disarming,” he said, mouth finding the space above your breast as his hands came to cup them, fingers toying with the nipples. “It’s my favorite thing about you, you see me in a way I can’t even see myself,” he followed up.

Your eyes watered at the admission and your hands found his face, bringing his mouth back to yours as you kissed him again, tongue entwining with his. Your hands grasped his shoulders, as your leg found his hip and you pushed him over, onto his back. Your hands came to rest on his chest as you settled your weight on his lower abdomen. You could feel his manhood standing to attention, insistent at the curve of your ass and you reached around to grasp it, pushing your chest out for his greedy eyes. Taking him in long strokes, you ran your hand up and down, circling your thumb around the head. His eyes screwed shut as his breathing shallowed.

“Wanna know a secret, baby?” You offered, rocking your hips in time with your strokes. He whined then, the Lord of Shadows keened a little whine for you that had you ready to come right there. “Last time we hosted a gala, that night before Hybern,” you were panting, “all I could think about was taking you to bed.” His eyes opened and hazel was gone blacked out in pure desire. His hands found your hips and his own began to move in time with you. “I thought about riding you,” you said, twisting your hand in a way that had his breath guttering out of him. “I thought you might love me in the way you looked at me.” His eyes softened and he leaned up, hands tracing up your spine as he pressed kisses to your chest.

“I loved you that night and every night since,” he said before tonguing a nipple and sucking it into his mouth. “That dress you wore, my color, had me hard for a week.” You laughed then removing your hand from his cock and bringing both to his face, so you could kiss him. His hands slipped to your ass then, palming the cheeks as his tongue moved in tandem with yours. When you moved back from him, a string of salvia still connected you two, you reached up to comb fingers through his hair gently.

“I brought you something,” you said quietly, looking to the corner of the quilt where your bag had dropped ages ago. His brow furrowed, confusion showing in his features. “You don’t have to, but I brought some of that tart. If you want,” you offered the statement nervously, as if there was still a chance for rejection. Azriel’s heart went soft and his brain turned to mush.

“You want to accept it?” He questioned, hands sliding up your back and to your waist. You smiled and looked at him incredulously, “Of course I want to accept it, it feels like I’ve waited a millennia for you.” You’d laughed a bit and that feeling of home raced through him again. Gods, he was fucked.

You leaned off his lap, pulling the strap of your bag to you and unzipped it. There, packaged in a little glass container, lay a small slice of the berry tart you’d fretted over earlier in the day. “Nesta made some stupid comment about ‘cooking’ when I’d asked where you were,” you laughed in hindsight at the female’s leading words. “She knew because Cassian knew, he helped me with the food and candles,” Azriel murmured pushing your hair up and over your shoulder.

He pulled the container from your grasp then and opened it before picking the pastry up with his fingers, the same fingers that had been inside you minutes ago. Eyes on yours he took the first bite, your heart thrumming as the golden thread of your bond lit up like the sunrise. His eyes never left yours as he consumed the pastry in four bites, swallowing and pulling his fingers into his mouth at the remaining sweetness there.

The bond between you two was shining, strong and thrumming with love. ‘Hi,’ you tried, your thoughts reaching out to him. He smiled, laughing freely, and his voice came through clearly, ‘Hi, Little One.’ You choked out a laugh, eyes watering as you leaned forward to kiss him, tasting the berries on his tongue. ‘Can I make love to my mate now?’ He questioned down the bond and you laughed again. His hands were already tracing your hips as you leaned forward, hand reaching underneath to guide him into your cunt. Lowering yourself down, you rocked forward once then twice in order to take him to the hilt.

Mother above, he was big. His cock was thick and filled you wholly, pushing against your cervix making your eyes flutter in pleasure. You thought of the comment Mor had made about wingspan once decades ago and you heard him laugh, “I’m flattered, truly,” he said playfully, reading your thoughts and nipping at your shoulder.

You rose up again and set to riding him slowly, hips moving in long strokes as his hands traced your ass, pulling at the flesh there in time with your movements. You gave a experimental squeeze of your walls, and he keened a loud moan that had you speeding up your flow. “You keep that up, Little One and I won’t last,” he panted at your throat. “That’s rather the point,” you laughed breathlessly, your own hand moving to cup your breast, the other sliding down to circle your clit. His eyes traced the view greedily, moving down to the point where you connected, watching your cunt take him in full, his cock glistening with your shared wetness. He bared his teeth at the sight, a rumble lighting in his chest.

Just as your walls began to flutter with your impending orgasm, he grasped you and flipped you to your back, pulling your hands from your body and entwining your fingers with his own on each side of your head. He ground his pelvis in deep and your legs hitched higher around his waist. “Azriel, fucking Gods,” you called out at the switch in angle, the tip of his cock grinding into your cervix. He hummed at your throat, teeth marking you there as his hips pulled out and pushed in, grinding each time he bottomed out into you. His wings flared behind him and you thought you’d never seen a more beautiful sight.

“You take me so well, my love,” he panted, “you were made for me.” You whined then, cunt fluttering around him as he bottomed out deep and held it there, grinding his pubic bone into your clitoris. The pleasure raced up your spine and you thought you’d never be able to leave this place, might have to keep him inside you forever. He growled, reading your thoughts. “You want me to fuck this cunt forever?” He asked aloud leaning up, pulling his hands from yours.

You whined at the loss, but the sound died as he pulled your legs up his waist to his shoulders, kissing the scarred calf. He drew his cock out, only to slam back in. “Fuck,” you moaned out, voice going up two octaves. “You want me between your thighs for the rest of my days?” He said again, hips moving faster, your hands moving to your tits as they bounced from the impact. His eyes watched the movement and he bared his teeth again, turning his head to bite into the flesh of your calf.

“Azriel!” You called out again, pleasure zipped up your spine and you felt your stomach tighten. “Az, baby, I’m so close.” He chuckled darkly. “Be a good girl and come on my cock,” he said as his fingers traced down your leg to find your clit, rubbing the bundle in quick, timed circles. “Az- I-,” you barely got the words out before your orgasm overtook you, a long moan exiting your mouth as your cunt tightened around him, he ground into you and worked you through it, before dropping your legs back to his hips and pistoning deeper.

“My sweet mate,” he gasped at the skin of your throat, mouth tracing up to find yours, hands finding purchase on your thighs as he pulled you open, allowing him dive deeper. “My darling love,” he moaned and his tongue moved with yours, your hips pushing up to meet his thrusts, walls fluttering against his velvet length with the remnants of your orgasm.

You ventured your hand up his shoulder to the base of a wing and traced your fingers up the membrane to the bone. His eyes twisted shut, and he keened a low primal whine that had your cunt ready to come again. At the tightening of your walls, he groaned dark and deep, shadows seeping from him, as he pushed in, grinding against the innermost portion of you. His hips pulled out slightly and then pushed back in as his cock kicked, come spurting against your walls. He panted against your throat as his hands released their hold on your thighs and moved up your body before grasping your throat. He moved up to lean over you and his eyes found your own. He gave an experimental thrust of his hips and your eyes widened. Fucking Cauldron, he was still hard.

He laughed then, nuzzling at your mouth as he nipped at your bottom lip. “I’m giving you five,” his voice was deeper than you’d ever heard it, “and then I’m eating my come from your cunt and fucking you until the sun comes up.”

You gasped out a laugh as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. ‘They call it frenzy for a reason,’ you thought, kissing along his cheekbone and to his mouth. Gods, you were fucked.

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milliebobbyflay · 1 year

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paired with their often intimate and violent subject matter, i find the incidental way tamsyn muir frames women and their bodies throughout the locked tomb series to be refreshing bordering on radical

consider harrowhark; in the first book we see her as gideon sees her. she's a hideous ghoul with a flat ass and no tits, she's a delicate sopping wet beauty with a sharp face and angel bow lips, she's a triumphant and awe inspiring master necromancer screaming and fighting drenched in her own blood. the shape and condition of her body is allowed to take on meaning contextually based entirely on the situation and how gideon feels about their relationship in any given moment

she then spends the second book hobbling around with a sword twice her size, ripping apart her body to use as a weapon and passing out in her own vomit, struggling to eat and sleep – she and puts herself through absolute hell and never once thinks anything of it, and we're made to mourn this not as the desecration of a beautiful woman but as a manifestation of a human being's despair and self loathing, and we see this specifically contrasted against the care gideon tries to take when inhabiting her body during the last act

it's jarring, in nona, when we're suddenly made aware that her body could be perceived or valued as a commodity, when pyrrha is assumed to be nona's pimp. it feels strange and horrifying when we learn alecto's form was modeled for a doll, learn that she was given a woman's body as a display of ownership, an alternative to being consumed, and as we're processing this we watch gideon, paul, and ianthe, immediately setting aside their conflict in a desperate scramble to preserve harrow's body for no reason other than because it is harrow's and they love her

feminist fiction often focuses on women's relationship to a body which is valued more than the person within it – and that is a worthy experience to explore – but as a transsexual butch(ish) dyke, i have never really had the privilege of seeing my body as a precious commodity, never felt like it couldn't or shouldn't be a sight of violence and disgust, and as a result the locked tomb books have made me feel seen in a way that few other works of fiction have?

we as an audience are not made aware of how attractive any character would be outside of the context of our lesbian POV characters' perspectives, their relationship to patriarchal beauty standards is an utterly irrelevant detail we're never told and only occasionally glimpse through implication. the women in the locked tomb books are simply free to exist, to have experiences and feelings, to love and hate and grieve and suffer and die like anybody else, and to have those experiences reflected in their physical vessels

it's a perspective that's so fundamental and obvious that to praise muir for it for it feels almost patronizing, but i also think it's a huge part of what's made the series so resonant for so many queer women and i feel that that's worthy of highlighting and celebrating

#the locked tomb #tlt meta #the locked tomb meta #harrowhark nonagesimus #gideon nav #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #tlt analysis

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nimthirielrinon · 4 months

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I need to talk about Gale’s insecurities. For all his noted overconfidence, this is a man whose entire self-worth is based on his prowess with magic.

He was a “gifted” kid whose abilities started out well advanced for his age, just to begin with. He very much thinks of himself as annoying, which you learn in the Durge playthrough after the dead bard incident, when he says that if being annoying we’re reason enough to kill someone, he’d “be dead 1000 times over!”.

If you romance him and convince him not to take the Crown after the second romance scene in Act 3, he mentions how he’s used to being seen as over-confident and even self-deluded regarding his abilities, which I think would only make him posture even harder as a defence mechanism.

I think for a long time, his relationship with Mystra was likely something he used as a flex on other wizards who had been cruel or mean to him, based on how he brings it up, when he does.

But what gets me is his utter relief whenever he isn’t rejected by Tav. When he first opens up to you, he has pretty much already prepared himself to be kicked out of the party. He’s even got a plan for when his bomb goes off, to do the least amount of harm he can, and when he says “Even I’ve grown tired of the sound of my own voice” I swear his voice cracks and he sounds like he could cry.

If you romance him, when he tells you he’s in love with you, if you say “I love you too” instead of going straight for a kiss, he’s once again relieved. Despite the fact that you’re there with him and have been romancing him, he still has a doubts that you would return his feelings.

It’s no wonder he made the mistakes he did. This is a man who’s been told his entire life that he’s annoying. Though he’s had other mortal lovers (and we don’t know how those relationship were, only that they clearly ended), he is clearly primed for rejection. And then his ex-girlfriend, the goddess of magic herself, tells him she’ll only forgive his transgression if he kills himself.

Like I said at the top, his precocious talent for the weave is the entire basis of his self-worth, unless and until Tav assured him that he has value beyond his mastery of the Weave. It’s no wonder he felt like he had to “prove” to Mystra that he loved her enough. As long as his self-esteem was based on his magical abilities, he was never going to feel like he was good enough, especially for the goddess who is all magic. He was never going to be able to feel as though he was loving her well enough.

I guess what I’m saying is that his “ambition” and his hubris make so much sense when you consider the hinted-at reasons for his insecurities, his clear desire for friendship and affection (he summoned a Tressym who became a lifelong companion and a lava mephit or something with whom he is still in touch; he even says he didn’t have friends growing up), and his main talent/special interest.

I think he’s a superbly-written character, and I definitely feel like he deserves neither death nor godhood, but a good and comfortable life surrounded by a loving family who encourage him to be his best self.

#bg3 spoilers #long post #gale dekarios #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios of waterdeep #bg3 gale #blorbo from my games #been rotating him around in my head #like a rotisserie chicken #character analysis #the wizard of waterdeep

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inuyashaluver · 19 days

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Hi!!! How are things? Idk if you saw the picture of Leah in the black pinstripe suit… suffice to say I’ve been having thoughts… and a request pinged through my mind: Leah meeting reader while wearing the suit (first time meeting; connection at first glance) and Leah stays by reader’s side throughout the evening. Heavy flirting, touchy, more dominant bf Leah who brings reader into her arms (basically takes control😩) and suring conti cup celebrations, Leah sees reader wearing her suit jacket and gets cocky. I’m thinking reader is the mysterious hot babe who everyone is wondering about

Love your work and thank you for the Jenni and Misa fics❤️❤️

suit and tie - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which a pretty blonde steals your heart with her suit and tie

warnings: flirty, flirty, flirty, swearing, suggestive

a/n: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE, TURN IT UP - you guys can’t expect me to react normally about this picture, come on! thank you for the love, gorgeous, enjoyyyyy xx

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and leah never believed in love at first sight until you both laid eyes on each other. the instant attraction was obvious for the both of you, hence why as soon as your eyes made contact, you knew you needed to have each other.

—

leah wasn’t really much of a party person. sure, she had fun at parties, but if you were to ask her how she wanted to spend a rare saturday she had off, it most definitely was not at a party.

but because leah values loyalty, when her best friend, alex, begged her to come to a british vogue party, full of the uk’s best in 2022, who was she to decline the puppy dog eyes?

and so, with effective convincing, leah shrugged on her best suit, resisting the eye roll when her best friend assured her this party would be fantastic.

you also weren’t really much of a party person ever, but because of your field of work, you always got dragged to them.

you’re a sports journalist and interviewer. one that was extremely valued not only in the football community, but other sports also.

you took great pride in actually taking time to do your research, to know about your athletes and asked them the questions that actually mattered.

at this time, you were quite new, not really having the opportunity to meet a lot of athletes, including leah.

it took you a while to get to leah’s side of the pitch, and before you had met, you weren’t even doing anything on the field, rather being the one on the television talking about stats and predictions for the games.

—

when leah walked in the room that night, the atmosphere was bustling and she was already regretting coming.

though she held herself well, posture up right with a confident smile present as she walked through the crowds, exchanging polite conversation with familiar faces.

she found a name card with her name on it settled on a table near the back of the room, dimly lit with candlelight amongst the chatter and clinking glasses amongst the room.

she settled, adjusting her suit jacket, slightly tousling her hair in frustration at realising alex wasn’t even sitting on the table with her.

she didn’t know anyone here, about to pull out her phone until she heard a gentle “excuse me, sorry, could i just get through?” sounding from behind her, someone came up next to her and leaned forward to examine the name card next to hers.

a dizzying scent of vanilla flooded her senses, her eyes subconsciously following the smell to look up at the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen in her life. it wasn’t even an exaggeration.

her mouth slightly hung open as she met the person’s eyes, this person being you. you were slightly shocked when you and leah made eye contact, feeling your breath hitch at how gorgeous she was.

everything in the room faded as leah looked at you, there was just something irresistible about you that leah couldn’t comprehend, she hadn’t even said a word to you yet.

after what felt like an eternity, you send a quick smile, pulling out the chair and sitting next to her, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

leah gave herself an internal pep talk, turning slightly to you, her hand extending to yours, “hi, i’m leah” she pronounces, making you look over at her with a surprised smile, a little giggle escaping your mouth, sent straight to leah’s heart which felt like was hammering out of her chest.

you place your hand in hers, shaking it gently with a charming smile, you were so nervous, the girl’s gaze not helping you at all. “(y/n)” you share, enjoying how soft her hands felt against yours,

“it’s lovely to meet you” she grins, “likewise” an electric current passed between you before you reluctantly returned your hands to your laps.

you stayed silent for a moment, before nudging her shoulder with yours softly, “did you get dragged to this as well?” you whisper, leah chuckles.

you don’t think you’ve ever been more attracted to someone in your life and you’ve just met her. leah was feeling the exact same, wanting to impress you and really hoping she doesn’t fuck this up.

“i did actually” she laughs, “don’t tell me you were as well?” she smiles at you, you nod with a grin, “indeed i was” you sigh, taking a swig of the complementary cocktail on the table, wincing when you took a sip.

“what the fuck is that?” you cough, leah looks over at you in surprise, “that bad?” she says with a laugh, watching as you take a sip of some water,

“disgusting, haven’t you tried it?” you grimace, she shakes her head, “if i had it, so do you” you demand, making the blonde laugh in disbelief.

“who made up that rule?” she challenges amusingly, you grab her glass, lifting her hand and directing her fingers over it, pressing your hand over hers for a moment and she swears her body was on fire.

“i did, drink up then, go on” you smile sweetly, leah offers you another smile, shaking her head with a little laugh before she took a little sip of the drink, matching your wince with how bad it was.

you laugh brightly at her expression, making her heart swell with pride, wanting to make you laugh like that again.

“that’s awful” she affirms, “i can’t believe you made me drink that, i thought we had something going here” she flirts, you smirk knowingly, understanding that both of you caught each other’s drift.

leah just exuded confidence, now leaning her head on her hand resting on the table, adjusting so she could face you. you offer her an amused expression, angling your body to mirror her position.

“we can suffer together?” you say cheekily, leah huffs out a laugh, “come to the bar with me?” she offers, you nod instantly, watching as she stood first, her hand held out to you.

you accepted it gratefully, letting her pull you out of your seat, and once you were upright, her hand made its way to the small of your back, directing you through the crowded room.

when you both reached the bar, she made you stand in front of her slightly in a protective nature, leaning down to speak into your ear directly,

“what would you like, gorgeous?” you swallowed the lump in your throat, telling her what you wanted and watching as she ordered for you and her without hesitation.

you turn around to face her as you both waited for the drinks to be prepared, seemingly busy. she offered you a charming smile as you met her gaze head on, feeling a little nervous at the intensity of her stare.

your eyes trail to her suit and back up to her face, apparently exposing yourself leah could clearly tell you were adorning her attire.

she silently challenges you with a cheeky grin, “you alright, pretty girl?” you return her smirk, feeling a little confident yourself, feeling comfortable with leah.

“just appreciating a good suit” you shrug, your hand extending slightly to trace the lapel of it with your finger, leah watched your movement with sharp eyes, barely breathing at your proximity.

“or maybe i’m appreciating the woman in it?” you say innocently, leah flatlined right there. she chuckled lowly, moving closer to you slightly,

“well you’re a sight for sore eyes” leah drawled, hand resting on your hip for a moment before her head nodded towards the drinks now placed on the bar behind you.

her hand seeks refuge on your lower back again, effectively weaving through the room to your seats again. leah only got rid of the contact to pull out your chair, offering you a sweet smile while she gestured you to sit.

when she sat down next to you, her chair was essentially pressed up against yours, her thigh slightly brushing yours, sending a shiver up both of your spine’s.

“so, leah, tell me about yourself” leah and you both share a little giggle, flirting shamelessly as she talked about her, you listened to her intently, she fell for you a little more at seeing you actively listening to her.

you were asking her questions to clarify when you didn’t understand, sharing your own words but not in an overbearing way, adding to the conversation in a way that made things fluid. easy. familiar.

when the blonde directed her own interrogation on you, she listened to each word with extreme focus, smiling when she’d catch your gaze, both of you somehow managing eye contact.

it was like a first date, the way you both shared parts of your lives, it certainly felt like one.

it was clear there was a spark there, the amount of things you had in common was uncanny. both of your hearts raced a little faster when you thought about where this could potentially go, you two were perfect for each other.

the air between the two of you was thickened with anticipation and attraction, the flirting making both of your stomach’s absolutely flip. there was just something so magnetising about the two of you, irresistible like a moth to a light.

her laugh was infectious and so was yours, a smile cracking between the two of you that had your cheeks hurting. each exchanged glance and playful piece of banter made the tension simmer, both of you slowly drawing each other in.

“do you want to dance?” you said with kind eyes, leah nods without hesitation, letting you drag her to the dance floor.

the two of you danced with shared giggles, lingering touches as your bodies moved together. and even though leah and you had obviously skipped multiple steps with each other, she remained respectful, not pushing any boundaries as she danced with you.

you appreciated it, appreciated her and she most definitely appreciated you. the thought of her fucking this up eating her alive and it hadn’t even happened.

“i wasn’t going to come tonight but i’m happy i did” leah said next to your ear, goosebumps rising on your skin when her breath gently grazed it. you smile at her, “me too” your hand moving to gently squeeze her bicep.

you both made way to the table once more after you both got tired, basically sitting on top of each other at this point. you continued to chat and laugh together, feeling like you’d known each other all your lives.

as the night progressed, your hands went over your arms due to a little chill suddenly being present in the room. leah was extremely observant, shrugging off her jacket and slipping it over your shoulders.

you open your mouth to protest but leah fixes you with a little glare, making you roll your eyes slightly before you let her direct your arms into the jacket, her scent making you smile as it surrounded you, more than it already was.

the party was slowly filtering out and you and leah prolonged it as much as you could until essentially getting kicked out.

she walks you out with your arm around her bicep, smiling at people as you walked past. you were both outside and gave each other slightly sad smiles, the thought of the night ending leaving a little crack in both of your hearts.

“i had a lot of fun with you tonight” you smile at her, “so did i, a lot of fun” she smiles back, her eyes trailing all over your face as you looked at each other.

“so, williamson, can i have your number?” you say cheekily, your cheeks a little pink as you asked, leah smiles fondly, nodding and fishing her phone out of her bag, prompting you to do the same. “beat me to it, cheeky”

you exchanged numbers, hands brushing against each other’s as you gave back one another’s phone.

“i have to say, you suit that jacket a lot better than me” she smirks, you shake your head, “thank you, but you’re otherworldly in this” you flirt, making her cheeks burn as she avoided your gaze for a moment.

her tongue pokes the inside of her cheek for a moment with a chuckle, taking the leap and pulling you closer so her lips were ghosting yours.

her eyes bore into yours, glancing down at your lips as her breath fanned them gently, your heart spiked, feeling incredibly warm.

your eyes flicker down at hers before she closed the gap, her lips moving softly with yours. you sigh against her as she pulls you closer by your hips, your hand gently holding the side of her neck as you kissed her.

she pulls away with a sharp breath, her breath mingling with yours as her forehead resting against yours. “let me take you out, tomorrow?” she says almost a little desperately, but you both were honestly.

“okay” you breathe out, she smiles before pressing a tender kiss to your mouth, her thumbs rubbing gently over your waist as she pulled away at arms length.

you smile at her sheepishly, her sporting her own shy smile as she looked at you. the two of you giggle again, not really believing the circumstances of kissing your dream girl and going on a date the next day.

she waits until you get picked up by your taxi, pulling you into a warm hug, the embrace soft and gentle, contrasting the insufferable flirting you’d been torturing each other with all night.

“i’ll give you back your jacket on our date” you say cheesily, leah laughs, brushing a stray hair away from your face before she cradles your cheek, her thumb brushing over your cheekbone affectionately.

she presses a parting kiss to your lips, “can’t wait, baby” she whispers against you, pecking your mouth again quickly before she ushered you to go home, not wanting you to linger out in the cold.

you texted all night, sleeping at an ungodly time but it was all worth it. leah took you on that date and you both fell in love, suddenly claiming yourselves as party people.

—

you’d now been dating for a little over two years, infatuated an understatement for your relationship. you moved in together, both of you flourishing with each other in your respective careers but also with one another.

people knew the two of you were dating, you were the definition of private but not a secret. your social media for each other was essentially a shrine.

—

it was the continental cup final, arsenal vs chelsea. you and alex were the main journalists covering the match that leah was extremely excited about.

during warm ups, she threw you a cocky grin with a wink as she saw you getting mic’d up, only growing when she realised what you were wearing.

the blazer from the night she swept you off your feet all those years ago. you wave at her when she blows you a kiss with a wave, grinning as alex teased the both of you while you both prepared.

when the final whistle blew and leah got dragged into a group hug, she bounded over to you.

“arsenal have won the continental cup!” you exclaim, feeling a body attach to you from behind, strong arms wrapped around your middle while multiple kisses were pressed to your cheeks.

you lean back into the body, already knowing it was your girlfriend’s. “leah williamson is clearly happy about the win” alex teases, making leah smile against your cheek,

her hand moves over yours holding the microphone, “very happy” she chuckles, moving to stand next to you with her hand on your hips, staying for a short interview conducted by alex.

you gave her heart eyes the whole time, buzzing with excitement to congratulate her properly off camera. if you weren’t confirmed officially with the blonde, you definitely were now.

as soon as the staff yelled ‘cut’, leah pulled you into a kiss, your arms wound around her neck as her arms went around your waist again.

“hi, gorgeous” she mumbles against your lips, “hey, champion” you grin proudly, pecking her lips a couple of times while she smiles down at you.

“congratulations, my winner” you pinch her cheek softly, she moves her head quickly to jokingly bite your finger, relishing in the giggle she elicited from you. “thank you, my girl” she winks,

“this is a nice blazer, where’d you get this?” she teases, you can’t help but smile at her, “oh, it’s my girlfriend’s” you kiss her again, her hands move to squeeze your hips.

“you look absolutely gorgeous” she breathes out, “so sweet, my love, so do you” you grin, leah smirks, “i prefer you with nothing on but that’s for my eyes only” she says lowly in your ear, you gasp and slap her shoulder lightly,

“you can’t be sweet for two seconds-” you scold, cut off with her lips against yours again in a gentle kiss, making you hum against her before you ushered her to get her medal and lift the trophy.

after the trophy was lifted, she made a quick effort to grab a bottle of champagne and chase you around with it, threatening to spray it on you. you both laugh loudly as you ran around the pitch, your hearts full of affection for each other.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s you and leah’s blazer 🫠! ily alex x

liked by alexscott2 and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: double win if you ask me

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yourname: so cheesyyyyyy

↳ leahwilliamsonn: you love it

↳ yourname: do i?

↳ leahwilliamsonn: oh you definitely do

↳ yourname: don’t be so sure of yourself, williamson

↳ leahwilliamsonn: extremely. thin. ice.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

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yanderestarangel · 5 months

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HEADKANONS MK1 - TRIO LIN KUEI + FRIEND!READER | PART 2 - AFTER BI HAN'S BETRAYAL .

A/N: This is a continuation of this post here, you don't need to read it, but it's good to give some context.

TW: afab reader, smut, angst, dark!bi han, nsfw, plot follows the canon line of mk1 (with the ending of tomas, kuai liang and bi han), tomas x reader, bi han x reader, soft!dom bi han, v!sex, oral (f!re), temperature!play.

✧ ENDING 1 | STAY WITH KUAI LIANG AND TOMAS VRABADA

The news that bi han had become a tyrant and had betrayed lin kuei values came as a shock to you. Seeing Kuai Liang and Tomas with looks of anger and disappointment broke your heart - mainly due to the fact that they packed all their personal belongings in a hurry, afraid of what might happen if Bi Han found them there after the fight they had.

You didn't know what to think at that moment, it seemed like the weather had frozen, your knees felt weak thinking that Bi Han, the grand master who welcomed you, pampered you and made you feel loved... He had become a monster.

Kuai Liang reached out to you, telling you that he would form another clan. "-Come with me and Tomas, let's be great... Without bi han and his insanity for power." the pyromancer looked at you expectantly, along with Tomas, who placed his hand on your shoulder, while smiling slightly at you. "-Come with us dear, I promise we will protect you from our brother's wrath, I know he is important to you, it hurts both of us too but..." Vrbada pauses for a while, thinking about the harsh words his older brother he had told him at Liu Kang Temple, hours before. "-But he's not the same anymore..."

You felt butterflies in your stomach, but you made the decision to go with the two - after all, they were yours for many years, you met Kuai Liang first, but your heart was still heavy for Bi Han - The three of you left at dawn, without doing anything, no noise or attracting attention, but you knew there was someone watching you, the air was freezing, and you knew it was sub zero in the distance, but he just had a look... Sad? Disappointment perhaps? Small tears could be seen, but he pushed them away as he watched you walk away from him, the grandmaster would blame everything but you. "-It was Kuai Liang and Tomas' fault... I'm sure... You wouldn't abandon me willingly... Right, my bunny?" Bi Han whispered to himself, trying to contain the discomfort that haunted his chest, returning to his quarters... He wasn't going to give up on you, but for now, he wasn't going to do anything, waiting for the perfect opportunity to take what was his by right... You.

You, Kuai and Tomas met Harumi, and it hurt a little to see your best friend leave you a little aside for being in love with someone else, but you understood that Scorpion would also have to have a love life. You and Tomas kept seeing the couple from afar, while smiling at seeing Liang so in love with her - even naming the new Shiray Ryu clan after her - with that, you and the smoke ninja became closer... A lot closer.

Vrbada started giving you gifts, asking you out, he was courting you little by little, trying to move from just friendship for many years to something more. After all, he always liked you romantically but never had the courage to say something, he asked Kuai Liang and even Harumi for some advice, which motivated him to speak up and confess his feelings for you.

But it was little Hanzo who made everything work out between you two, on one training day you saw him pull your shirt and point at Tomas, saying loudly: "-(Y/N) Tomas likes you! Because Don't you two stay together?" Smoke blushed deeply feeling exposed, but grateful to see your smile at him while you yourself asked him out that night. He was a blushing mess as he stuttered, handing you a bouquet of flowers, he was totally dressed up when he picked you up at home, wearing light colored formal clothes that hugged his muscles.

The night was pleasant, with Tomas trying to say everything he felt, everything he kept close to his chest during years of friendship, he knew that you were still thinking about everything that happened in the lin kuei, but that you needed to move on. "-I always liked you darling... Your smile, the nights you slept between me and Kuai Liang, I was afraid of suffocating you sometimes, you know?" Vrbada smiled amusedly, taking your hands and giving each one a chaste kiss, massaging them with his thumb in circular movements. "-I promise that if you give me a chance, I will be the best partner for you (Y/N)... I know I've been your best friend for years, but, I want to be more, much more, stay with me, let's go try a new life... Together." He looked directly into your eyes, the same eyes that always lit up your day like the bluest sky, as you finally felt the Slav's lips press against yours, the moon illuminated you both and your worries were gone... Even if momentarily.

And this would obviously end on your bed, with Tomas on top of you covering your mouth so you wouldn't make any noise, his cock would plunge slowly and difficultly into your tight pussy, while he moaned hoarsely in your ear. "-Fuck-! Dear, stop squeezing me so hard, you're fucking gripping me... F-Fuck your pussy feels so good on my dick..."

Another thing that surprised you was how submissive Smoke was in bed, always asking 'please' to cum inside or for you to let him cum. He would cry like hell if he got overstimulated, babbling in his mother tongue as he cummed every last drop of cum in you. Vrbada enjoys just seeing your pleasure, watching you ride his face, while moaning his name loudly like a mantra, the poor man is already going to cum and whimper that he needs your pussy on him immediately - it was a pleasant surprise to see your best friend like that - especially how he liked to be praised while fucking you, looking directly at your face, calling him a "good boy" makes him come immediately inside you, while he whimpered and said "fuck" repeatedly with his mind broken with too much pleasure to be the rational ninja he always was.

Kuai Liang will smile at the two of you from afar, wanting to have a celebratory dinner to celebrate his brother's success and your passion - which practically every Shiray Ryu heard through Tomas' groans -, but don't be fooled, from afar, you could feel a cold look and now, cruel, Bi Han, he was furious and now more than ever he was going to take you from his brother's arms as a form of revenge for both of you, because now, the grand master was broken at the sight of the way you gave yourself up to Smoke, he wouldn't show any pity, and he would do whatever it took to make you see your mistake even if it meant killing everyone in his path, and that included everyone, even his own brothers, he would catch you whether you want it or not. But in the present, you were happy to be with Tomas, without knowing the troubled future that Bi Han planned for you...

✧ ENDING 2 - STAY WITH BI HAN

You couldn't believe it when you saw Bi Han come back and quickly change everything in the structures of the Lin Kuei clan, he was ruder, colder, but he tried to be as gentle as possible with you, as he always was and tried. You asked him about Kuai and Tomas, which made the grandmaster wrinkle his nose and say with contempt that they had betrayed him, hadn't followed his orders, and that now it was just the two of you against the world.

You knew that Bi Han was lying, but you felt the need to continue on his side, perhaps, with the false hope of making him see that Liu Kang was not the enemy of the Lin Kuei, that your clan served the earthly plane and I didn't need to dominate him. But, Bi Han was blinded by power, but he still wanted to have you around, he loved you and for years you were and were the only person who was closest to him - he didn't trust anyone like he trusted you, not even Sektor -, however this made you have to swear loyalty to the grand master and abandon your best friends. "-Good choice, I knew you were smarter than them... then lets go and make history my angel. Together, we will bring glory to the clan, and power to ourselves." Bi Han says as he walks in front of you to the Lin Kuei headquarters, while he held you tightly, as if he was afraid of losing you at any moment. "-After this war is over, we should go to my little sanctuary at the top of the mountain and stay there for a few days - just me, you, and nature..." he whispered in your ear, taking you to his room, which would now be yours too.

You never thought that Bi Han saw you as a potential love or partner, but from the way he treated you now - whispering sweet and possessive things in your ear, his big cold hands kneading the flesh of your hips lightly, the warm shower of herbs that he prepared just for you... It was obvious that he had feelings stored up for all the years of your friendship - "-Make yourself comfortable while I prepare everything else..." he soon takes you to the center of his bed , as he did rarely in the times when he was still your friend, he was still your bi han... But, he still loved you, he loved you more than you thought. "-You know that I don't just see you as a friend, right? All these years that were me, you and..." He pauses and a long sigh comes out of his lungs, as he looks at his hands, while He remembered his brothers but pushed away those thoughts of "weakness". "-Anyway... I always saw you as more than a future right-hand man for me, more than a friend, you understand, don't you my dear?" Bi Han kisses your neck, licking the drops of water that were still there. "-Just give yourself to me, let me make you my king/queen, you and I will be great, I promise no one will hurt you..."

Bi Han would be gentle with you, making you as comfortable as possible, even if he saw the worry in your eyes because of Vrbada and Liang, he would just bend down and give kisses to your clit, licking the sensitive expanse of your pussy, making you moan and arch your body for more contact with his skin. "-Yes... Just like that... I always knew you were meant for me... Since the first time we met my brother... I always loved you (Y/N)." With one hand firmly holding the waist, ensuring no slipping occurs during passionate thrusts; another arm around your neck, lightly choking just enough to make those beautiful sounds escape your lips even louder, now giving him perfect control over the pace and depth, fucking your pussy with longing and relief, relief of finally having you. have it just for him. "-Take it all. Show me how much you want my cock... Let's make up for lost time, yes, be my good boy/girl..." He moaned and growled in your ear, as he watched your face closely. "-Look at me when you cum- fuck I love you so much, I swear I'll kill anyone who dares take you from me." the grand master made a point of marking you visibly for everyone to see.

If Tomas and Kuai dare to look for you, Bi Han will show no mercy, he has become increasingly paranoid in fear of losing you and if one of them dares to take you to the shiray ryu he will show all the fury he has saved in years. You will be respected inside and outside the lin kuei, being the partner of the grand master, the second person with more power than sub zero himself.

However, you will live only for him, you will live only with him, not that that is a problem, after all Bi Han makes a point of spoiling you, jewelry, treasures or anything you want is yours... Just one word and he will destroy and rebuild the world just to see you smile, he loves you and is completely obsessed with you... so you will just deal with it.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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natsglorifiedsimp · 3 months

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Something Changed 2

A/N: You guys asked for it.

Taglist: @queen2234 @pipsipey17 @casquinhaa @natashajumpinoff @natsxwife @dark-hunter16 @i-lovescarlettjohansson @mrsrushman @tropicals-things @alianovnasposts @nova-kyle @jusnough @splzq @yellowthingsstuff

Part 1

Tasha's POV

"Hey, Maria!" Natasha called.

Natasha noticed the subtle eye rolling of Maria. She squinted her eyes. It was unusual for Maria to act like that especially cause she's been helping her get to date you.

"What do you want Natasha?" she grumbled.

Natasha was taken aback by this. "Jeez, I'm just asking about Y/n." another eye-roll was given to Natasha. "Have you seen her? I haven't seen her on campus."

"Glad you noticed, Natasha" she sarcastically said. Maria feigned a thinking posture and started to glare at Natasha, "Let's see hmm" Maria said with diction.

"How about the fact that you've been ignoring her since you and Wanda dated and now she's gone off to Los Angeles leaving us behind because of you!" Maria gritted her teeth trying to contain her anger because you were in the hallway where students were passing around thinking Natasha and Maria were doing a secret drug deal.

"W-what?" Natasha stuttered. "I-I haven't ignored her."

"Save me the drama, Natasha. All you think about is yourself." Maria said.

Natasha was so confused. She didn't know what she did to you. She hurriedly texted you, hoping you'd give her some explanation but all was left delivered. That's not usually you. You always reply as soon as you see the message pop.

Natasha back reads you guys' conversation. Seeing if there were any clues on when are you going to LA or something that would hint at anything.

But all she saw was how she neglected you. She could see in every message how much you needed her. She missed your rants, your rambles, and everything that you guys would do when you hang out.

She broke her promise.

Y/n's POV

LA was different. The school was fine so far. No one dumped milk on your hair yet. No one made fun of you yet. And you were hoping it would stay that way.

The new environment was hard for you. It is hard to start a conversation with people when you don't know who they are. Natasha always does the talking. But somehow in this world, you are the one who needs to adjust.

Even if the people were friendly, throwing a smile at you or saying hi, somehow you still felt timid and awkward. You were scared to make friends.

Cause you know they will leave again.

Natasha did. What could any of these peer's differences be?

You cried every night knowing you had no one cared. That even if you consider them your best friends they will never think of you the same way. You were an option. You are a pawn to someone's real agenda.

You cried because you knew how much you cherished friendships. You knew to yourself that you would care and love people and go out of your way just to be there for them.

But somehow with you, it was always the opposite.

You are left alone, and when you thought someone cared...

She never really was.

Natasha's POV

She tried calling you a million times, even called your parents just to have a chance to talk to you. To apologize. But you were too far gone.

She may have found the love of her life but she left you. She left you feeling like she didn't care. She disregarded your feelings and put herself first. She took advantage of you.

Natasha regretted everything that she did. Everything that she broke. She knew how much you value friendships and she also knew how to break it.

There were no more Y/n. The laughter you shared is now a glimpse of memories that she wished would last forever. Love may have come her way but she didn't have to run you over just to find it.

You were her person.

But i guess...

Loving involves losing right?

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bloodlust-1 · 6 months

Text

˗ˏˋRelieve Meˎˊ˗ part 2

Halsin x fem Tav — Explicit 18+

Summary: Halsin is looking a bit tense, Tav offers to massage his muscles and relieve his tension in the best way she can. He wants to return the offer to help relieve her as well.

"You're beauty is one that could have only been crafted by a goddess herself...how kind of nature to allow my heart to touch its most beautiful creation."

-> part 1 <-

TW: smut!

Note: part 2, more juicy. Ik this is what ya’ll been waiting for ;p

As the sun fell from the sky, another night crept on the horizon and coated the sky with stars. The fire illuminated the camp once again and Tav could feel the anxiety build up in her the darker it got. Of course, Karlach had been bothering Tav all day about what happened between her and Halsin last night. She assured her it was a tender moment but nothing happened. However tonight felt different. Halsin requested Tav to visit him tonight, and that she was.

Tav waited until most of the party settled in their tents for bed before making way to Halsin. She stepped out quietly and pulled the drapes of his tent. There he was, sitting on the floor in a kneeling state. He was praying to his god, the oak father. This was something she actually never seen him do.

“Am I interrupting?” She stepped in and kneeled down next to him with her hands placed on her thighs.

"No, never." Halsin turned his head to her. His eyes were so...pretty. She couldn't decide if his eyes were more green, grey, or brown? She'd never seen anything like it. Those eyes told a story, she could see the youth in them. It enticed her.

"Halsin?"

"Is there something on your mind?" He responded gently.

Tav twiddled her fingers together, nervously, "Tell me about your family." He never spoke of his family nor did he ever have a family of his own. He had it all, so his being alone felt odd to her. Tav leaned her head on Halsin's shoulder, feeling his warmth and strength.

He froze in the moment, but then shook his head as if he was trying to shake off past memories, " They passed away a very long time ago, may they rest with the Oak Father. They taught me all my values: My mother was a beautiful wood elf of various crafts. I did not see her much as she always traveled for her studies. However, my father was a very strict druid. Such a random question in a time like this— why?"

"You just have the most beautiful eyes. Made me wonder who you got them from." Their eyes locked, and they shared a deep gaze, communicating without words the love and adoration they have for each other.

Halsin spoke gently, "My mother's." His thumb gently caressed Tav's cheek, tracing the contours of her face, while she blissfully closed her eyes, allowing herself to fully surrender to his touch. Their breathing slows in unison, their hearts beating as one, lost in the beauty of this tender moment.

With one hand Halsin wrapped his arm around her back, slowly gravitating her back against his bedroll. He hovered over her body, it was way smaller in stature than his. Tav loved how large he was, to feel so protected and engulfed by his size. It was her biggest turn-on about him.

"You're beauty is one that could have only been crafted by a goddess herself...how kind of nature to allow my heart to touch its most beautiful creation." Halsin's mind was consumed by their memories and emotions. His heart raced as he remembered the way she smiled, the sound of her laughter, and the warmth of her embrace. He can't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for her strength, intelligence, and beauty. He wished he could turn back time and spend more moments with her, to cherish and hold onto every second they had together. There was no spoiling that now, he would seize his moment.

Halsin ran his free hand up alongside her figure, indulging in the curves of her hips, waist, and breasts. Every inch of her skin was his to explore, he squeezed her body tenderly under the large grip of his hand. Halsin watched Tav squirm as her face flushed bright red. His eye transitioned from gentle to authoritative. Oh, how Halsin loved seeing Tav make such pleasurable faces under his control.

"Do you know how hard it was to restrain myself the first time you offered yourself to me at that party?" Halsin's hand slipped up Tav's shirt, cupping her breast. He could feel the goosebumps rise on her skin to his touch. "I've been waiting for this moment for so long." His voice was gentle, his tone— commanding. His fingers traced her outer nipple slowly before pinching it teasingly. He loved the way she winced in a pleasurable pain. "And now I have you under me, moaning out such a lovely melody."

She gripped the cloth of Halsin's shirt as she let out small moans of pleasure. How could teasing feel so good, but feel so horrible all at once, she instantly wanted to just indulge herself in him. But for now, she enjoyed his attention. After all, he wasn't a piece of meat.

Halsin pulled Tav's shirt over her head and tossed it to the side. He leaned over and covered her exposed breast with his mouth, whilst his other hand groped her other breast. His tongue twirled over her hard nipple before pressing it against his teeth. The faint noises of grunts, heavy breathing, and slurping filled his tent.

Their skin started to exhume moisture for the heated moment. The sweet smell of musk and sexual tension, it was too intoxicating. Halsin planted sloppy kisses on Tav's chest, making his way up her neck. His steamy breath hit against Tav's ear. Her skin is soft like fresh petals, her sweat salty yet sweet. Halsin thought of her as nothing short of perfection.

"More?" Halsin huffed deep fast breaths into her ear. His lips parted from her neck, and he leaned his head back up in eyes view of her, waiting for her response.

From her view Halsin's face had a tint of red, his skin satin in moisture, not a lot but a glint of sweat. Her chest squeezed to his question because, of course, she wanted more. It was just so hard for her to answer. She almost felt shy to say yes, but this was what he wanted: to hear her voice.

"I—...." She felt a lump in her throat. Gods was she waiting for this, but the words just couldn't come out. She was aroused, nervous, and happy all at the same time.

Halsin put his hand over her jaw, clutching it slightly knowing the intensity of his strength, "Say it. I want to hear you say you want me." Tav had never seen him act this way and, gods was it a pleasant surprise.

Tav hung open her mouth, her heart racing out of her chest, "H-Halsin, I...want you. B-badly...please have me."

"Perfect." He uttered before pulling her face closer to his. He smashed his lips against hers, and his tongue danced with hers. Tav grabbed the sides of his face while wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling his groin against her core. It was hard and thick, and she could feel the heat coming off of it threw his pants. The kiss was roughly sloppy judging from their saliva running down Tav's cheek. She didn't even care, all she knew was that she wanted it rough and messy.

Their lips parted for a moment as they both gasped for air, between huffs, Halsin leaned up and pulled his shirt over his head. Exposing his muscles and hairy chest. His abs glistened in what little light gleamed into the tent from a nearby candle. Its soft glow cast its light that hit his skin in all the right places. He wrapped his fingers in Tav's waistband, pulling her pants down slowly, teasingly. He continued to tug at her pants until it pulled over her ankles, exposing her true form. All of Tav's nature was for Halsin to admire, he stared at her with lustful eyes, admiring her naked body.

His eyes began to glow like two shining suns, their bright yellow glow illuminating the darkness around him. The light emanating from his eyes was so intense that it seemed to cast a warm, golden glow on Tav's body. The effect was both mesmerizing and otherworldly. This was only a glow Tav saw when he shifted into wild form. She felt completely vulnerable, like his prey.

Halsin shook his head side to side lightly while shutting his eyes tightly, "I must tame myself, I don't want to hurt you in my wild form. But know this, you make my blood run so hot that it could awaken its beast."

"That's quite flattering, Halsin. Do I make you that crazy? That you can no longer contain yourself..? I couldn't say I wouldn't enjoy that..." Tav mustered out all her courage. Yes, she felt exposed and shy but the power she felt over Halsin's sexual urge, it was beyond an ego boost.

He scuffed in a small giggle, "Your body must take in me before it can handle any kind of beast, it's very untamed and...large." Halsin admired her ambition but he did not want hurt, this was pure pleasure, pure love. With that being said, He placed both his hands on her knees and spread her legs. "let me taste you." He leaned over, his shoulder was broad over her, his physique chiseled, and she could feel the warmth of his breath hit her core. It was all too real now, his head between her legs. He truly put her needs first before his own sexual desires. Or maybe eating her out was his sexual desire. He wanted this as bad as she did. He wanted Tav to get ready for him.

Halsin loved everything about her down to her scent. It was pure pheromones to him and damn did it unleash his inner demons. He placed kisses against her core, and small traces of her wetness glistened on his lips. His eyes, deadly, stared up at Tav, he licked his lips. She was nature's juiciest fruit, forbidden, and he took a bite. His thoughts blurred and his only instinct kicked in: Eat.

His face buried between her legs, and his tongue explored every fold and crevis. It was so wet, and Halsin rubbed his tongue against her clit. She rewarded him with moans of ecstasy. He was better than good, he was skilled. Halsin must've done this many times before and she was lucky enough for him to paint a picture on her canvas. His tongue skillfully teased her clit, Tav arched her back and clutched his hair between her fingers. She pushed his face closer to her core. Silvia ran down between her inner thighs, and Halsin squeezed her thighs tightly, enjoying all the nature's gifts of a woman bestowed to him. However, this one tasted so much sweeter when you're in love.

Tav winced out in a pleasurable melody from his grip, and in return, she tugged harder. Her stomach rose up and down like a boat riding its waves. Beads of sweat rolled down his temples, he looked so concentrated on pleasing her. The tent filled with moans, gasping air, slurping, and shuffling from Tav squirming under his grip. Halsin refused to let her go. She would have to take all his raw pleasure, even when she became too sensitive for more.

"Hahh— Halsin, fff-uuck—" She gasped out, her stomach became tense as she felt her climax inching closer and closer with each stroke of his tongue. His eyes like daggers stared up at her, he watched her moan and twitch under his grasp. He picked up his pace, as he circled his tongue around her clit.

Tav started to breathe heavier, it was so intense yet pleasure melted her body causing her legs to shake, and her stomach to twitch up. Her climax started to whelm up in the pit of her stomach, her body went tense and frozen for a moment. She shut her eyes tightly, and a single moan left her lips just when she reached her maximum height. She let out a sigh of relief. Tav peeped down at Halsin. From her POV his broad shoulders were hunched over her. She saw him licking up the juices for his sweet reward. His lips to his chin were coated in a slick liquid, it had a slight tint of white. God how sexy he looked when he had her cum on his face.

"You're ready...Come to me now." He sat up and kicked off his pants, his shaft swung up and he was right. A warning was not enough for Tav cause damn was he right, Large. He crawled back over Tav and placed his mouth over hers. She could taste the salty sweetness of her own brand. The musk of sex filled the air and it was heavy.

Halsin pulled away, "Lick." He pressed his fingers against her tongue— she obeyed. She licked the skin of Halsin's fingers, getting them soaked before he pulled them away. Halsin used his wet fingers to lubricate his cock. He pumped his hand a few times against his tip, letting out small grunts before placing his tip against her entrance, "Relax..." He kissed her forehead softly.

He pushed the tip of his head in. "Mmmh!" Tav clutched Halsin, he stroked her hair to comfort her. He slowly pushed in to give her body time to adjust. Her wet walls helped Halsin slide in with a better slip, and moment by moment he was fully in. He took a long steady thrust in and out. The tightness inside her melted from hurt to tinglyness.

Finally, they were one. Sharing each other's body in the name of love. They shared a gaze, lost in one another's eyes. Tav reached out to grab his face, "Halsin...Do you love me?"

"You're the only person that fills my heart. I do." A kiss was pressed against her lips. This one felt different, it was soft, passionate, and loving. He was so selfless. His hips started bucking in and out of her. Halsin grunted from the heat pulsing against his shaft. It only made him want more of her. He groped her breast while pumping in and out of her. His strokes were long and hard. Their chests clashed together in deep breaths.

"ahh, you feel so good" Halsin grunted as he fucked Tav harder. Their hips smashed against each other, and their sweat glided against skin it didn't belong to. Halsin hung his head down against Tav's neck. His moans were manly but slipped off the tongue like a lyric into her ear..

Tav wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing his deeper and harder into her. Fuck, why did it hurt so good? She tightened her walls around him. He skillfully fucked her for moments that felt like hours. Halsin Pulled out, "Turn around, I want to see that pretty back." Halsin gripped her sides and flipped her on her knees.

Tav dug her knees into the ground, her palms touching the bare floor. Halsin had hands like an ocean. Each time he pulled away he pulled her right back in. She looked over her sweaty shoulder to see Halsin. Kneeling behind her in all his messy glory, the sweat beaded down his abs, and that stare of his-- it was animalistic. Halsin returned his member back to her core, this time holding her by her hips. His hands explored her ass, squeezing it hard, it left behind his finger marks.

Each pump challenged Tav to hold her stance, making her sink lower and lower into the ground until her bare chest touched the floor. Their skin clapped against the force, and she could feel him grow hotter inside her. Halsin's grip was deathly, Tav's skin reddened to his touch.

"haahh!" Halsin slumped over her, leaving nibbles and bites on her back. Hickey's formed in random spots on her skin, marking his territory like an animal would. This was him telling everyone 'She's Mine'.

Tav struggled to fight against his strokes without completely crumbling under his strength. Halsin noticed this and grabbed both her wrists in his hands. he pulled her arms outward, her body now completely off the ground as he pulled her arms to push his cock deeper and deeper in her. Their moans entangled the dense air along with the clapping noises.

Halsin's eyes started to glow golden, his climax was coming to a close. But this felt too good. He wanted to stay in her as long as he could. He pulled her body up against his. Her back and ass pressed with no gaps against his abs. It was so wet. it was so raw. He pumped his cock while wrapping his arm around her in an embrace, and the other hand gripped her neck. They fucked in this position for a moment until she felt Halsin's body grow tense, and his grip became stronger.

"I— Ugghh, cumming." He pumped his final thrusts before his cock twitched, it was rock hard when a fill of warm cum burst inside her. His grip became weaker and they were glued to each other until his cum lessened to a stop. Halsin pulled out, a lonely feeling in her core was left as her walls retracted back without him there.

He held her body and allowed it to sink into his bedroll. Halsin held her close to him as he kissed the back of her neck. He was utterly captivated by all of Tav, there was still so much they could offer to each other. He strongly believed in fluidity in a relationship as his bear instincts guided him to where it desired. But there was a piece of him that wished he could have the nature of a swan. Mating for life with only one person. This was something he pondered about a relationship, a family, or even a stable love. For now, he enjoys the tender moment of Tav in his arms. The love and connection that bonded them together. Maybe it was fate that brought them together. Was she a lesson of love? He was scared he'd never find someone like her again.

"Tav, Please don't leave me. You belong at my side." He whispered almost in a somber tone.

"Of course not. Where you go, I go. I promise when this is all over you can show me your home...and all those little ducklings you love so much." She giggled and kissed his hand. It was a promise.

#bg3 fluff #bg3 tav #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 smut #bg3 halsin #halsin #halsin smut #bg3 posting

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motziedapul · 15 days

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If you don't mind my sharing my own, probably less spicy POC rep in audio drama take: the AD community's tendency toward celebration of "representation" within the medium as if this rep applies to anything substancially besides queer characters is exausting. Sure, queer rep is important but so often reading "there's rep for everything!" and the cast is like, 95% white? Or, bafflingly, people claiming diversity for something that is entirely fanon? Mmh.

Hi anon!

My take is just about as spicy, honestly.

There's a tendency to value "racially ambiguous" characters played entirely by White actors over actual BIPOC characters

(usually with BIPOC actors, though I'm not as strict about this since I don't mind White actors playing BIPOC characters so long as BIPOC voice actors can play White characters and no BIPOC actors lose voice acting opportunities. And as long as more attention is given to BIPOC creators than we're getting currently).

It sometimes feels as though BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People Of Colour) characters and creators are overlooked in favour of characters who are ostensibly White but drawn by fandom as BIPOC.

I've seen a lot of support in the community from fellow audio drama people; I've felt uplifted by my fellow creators who are White, and I always appreciate and value that. And obviously some shows are just well made and part of their success is based on other factors.

But as someone who's also aware of audio drama fandom, it's easy to see how much favour is given to White Characters drawn as BIPOC in comparison to characters who are BIPOC in text, and I'm not sure why.

That's my spicy opinion. I follow a few BIPOC creators but I can only name two that have an amount of success comparable to White audio drama creators (Gabriel Urbina of W359 fame and Octavia Bray of Atypical Artists), but my knowledge is limited.

And that's not even getting into female led audio drama, but I do love the success of creators such as Lauren Shippen in the space.

I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum or blame anyone for this phenomenon, but I do think it's worth thinking about. Why I see 50 brown Jonny Simses for every canonically brown Samama Khalid. Maybe it's all a coincidence based on other factors. Maybe White characters invite more imagination in their depiction or something.

I don't mind BIPOC depictions of ostensibly White or "racially ambiguous" characters, but I'm not a big fan of if they outnumber depictions of canon BIPOC characters. I just think the latter deserve more love.

I'm no expert. Also I'm mostly in the horror space, apart from my love of Life With Leoh (a sci fi romcom). My knowledge is very limited so if anyone would like to contradict me, I welcome it (especially if it means discovering more BIPOC led shows).

I don't want this to just be about complaining, so please feel free to shout out some fantastic BIPOC led audio drama (either created by or with a majority BIPOC cast) or even share some art you've done of characters from them and I'll happily share them.

My favorites are Wolf 359 (by Gabriel Urbina) and Life with Leoh (by Octavia Bray)!

#audio drama #bipoc #bipoc representation #fiction podcasts

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 4 months

Text

Gold Dust

Pairing: Modern Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Public use of an app based sex toy, smut. Word count: ~1.8k

Summary: Aemond's office Christmas party is the last thing either of them want to attend, however, he comes up with an idea to make it fun for both of them.

Author's note: Can be read as an addition of this series, but also works as a standalone. Day seven of the Smuffmas prompts - "sharing a drink and toys". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Aemond edit in first picture is by @kyloremus.

It’s been six blissful months since her and Aemond moved in together. Having decided his own lofty high rise flat no longer felt like home - in truth, it never had - he’d offered a swap with Mysaria, and she’d leapt at the offer.

Aemond’s flat was paid for outright, so there’d be no expenses incurred on her part, beyond standard bills and utilities. She suited the space, adding a touch of glamour to the modern matte black and chrome surroundings. Her jaw had dropped when he’d handed her the deeds, his grandfather’s law firm already having handled the necessary paperwork and transfer of ownership. Aemond didn’t want rent, he simply wanted to live with the woman he loved. The simple act of Mysaria giving them a space to be by themselves was payment enough in his mind.

The security of the smaller, more homely feeling flat which she now shared with him had been trickier to negotiate. The landlord had snubbed Aemond’s initial offer to buy it from him, insisting he’d make more in rental payments from it than he would if he sold it. Some moderate pressure applied by the legal team of Otto Hightower, and an offer well above its current market value had soon seen to that, so now they were homeowners of a place that was theirs.

Mysaria’s old room had been turned into a home office, a space where either her or Aemond could work from home if and when they wanted to, aside from that they had made no further changes. The cosy little space was where they had shared their fondest memories, and every aspect of their relationship was woven into it.

She shrugs off her coat, hanging it up by the front door, and sighs in relief as the warmth of the central heating prickles her skin. She stoops to ruffle Vhagar behind the ears, a reward for the elderly doberman having reluctantly left her bed to greet her, before walking through to the living room. The blankets on the sofa are exactly as she’d left them the previous evening, and she eagerly retreats back into her nest, snatching up the TV remote from the coffee table.

“Good day?” Aemond asks, propping himself against the door frame as he emerges from the home office, the faintest smirk of amusement playing upon his lips as he looks at her.

She regards him with a warm smile, her features softening instantly despite how tired and irritated she feels. “Horrid, thanks for asking. Do we have any wine left?”

“There’ll be wine at the party, I expect,” he says, moving to sit next to her and brushing a chaste kiss against her temple.

“What?”

He narrows his eye at her, drawing back to look at her carefully. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

She groans as realisation dawns upon her. “Shit, your office Christmas party. Do we really have to go?”

He sighs, nodding and interlocks his fingers with hers. “Ordinarily, I’d give it a miss, you know I loathe parties, but my grandfather has called in more than a few favours for me this year. I owe him this.”

An hour later, and she steps out of the bedroom, hair and make-up finished and a slinky silk dress hugging her curves.

“Beautful,” Aemond breathes quietly, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips.

She smiles bashfully, feeling her skin heat up beneath the weight of his compliment as he pulls away, and watches with curiosity as he moves past her to rummage around on the top shelf of their wardrobe.

“What are you doing?”

“Your outfit’s missing something,” he tells her, pulling down the Lovehoney box, a glint in his eye as he turns to her.

“Aemond, no!”

The app controlled egg vibrator had been a drunken purchase on her behalf, that she’d regretted the moment it had arrived. Upon discovering it, Aemond’s reaction had been much more enthusiastic, kneeling between her spread legs and watching in fascination as she’d whimpered and writhed as he’d played with the settings using the app on his phone.

It had been fun at the time, but she’d considered it impractical and tucked it away, hoping he’d forgotten about it. It’s clear now that he hasn’t.

“Oh come now, darling, it’ll make the evening much more fun for both of us. Consider it an early Christmas gift to me.”

It doesn’t take much persuading, and soon she is sitting in the back of a black cab next to him, her coat pulled tight around her against the chilly December air, made colder still by a distinct lack of knickers, which Aemond had insisted she leave behind.

She is acutely aware of the feeling of the egg enveloped snugly inside of her, its presence, though discreet, making her feel as though she brandishes a scarlet letter that their taxi driver must be aware of.

“No!” She mouths desperately at Aemond as he pulls his phone from his pocket, thumb hovering over the app.

He flashes her the briefest of grins, tapping once on the screen. A mild singular buzz reverberates through her, causing her to clasp a hand over her mouth to muffle her squeal. Aemond eyes her carefully, poking at the inside of his cheek with his tongue before pocketing his phone once more.

Tonight was going to be interesting.

They step into the office, already bustling with people, chatter and light classical music fill the opulent space which is decked out in rich, mahogany furnishings and forest green upholstery, ever the indication that the Hightowers come from old money.

“There they are!” Aegon greets them loudly with a grin, arms spread and half drunk flutes of champagne clutched by the stem between each of his fingers. His shoulder length blonde hair is tousled, and his white shirt is open by three buttons.

“How long have you been here?” She asks, taking in his bedraggled appearance.

“‘Bout twenty minutes,” he slurs around a mouthful of vol-au-vent.

Otto steps up behind him, placing a ring clad hand upon his shoulder. “I tell you where you might like it, Aegon, on the terrace; outside.”

She watches with amusement as the older man leads him away.

“I’d better give him a hand,” Aemond mutters quietly, the warmth of his palm leaving her lower back as he moves to follow. He nods towards his older sister. “Good to see you, Hel.”

She smiles warmly at Hel leaning in as the two peck each other’s cheeks. “How are you doing?” She asks fondly.

“Starving!” Helaena complains, pulling her sheer turquoise wrap tighter around herself and waving away a tray of canapés that’s being offered around by a member of serving staff. “Not a single vegan option here, everything’s either got salmon in it or is slathered in cream cheese.”

“You could always sneak off to grab something?” She offers sympathetically.

“Aeg said there’s a kebab shop over the road. I might see if he’ll grab me a falafel wrap later. Anyway,” she continues, snatching up two flutes of champagne from a passing tray and handing one to her. “How are you?!”

“Yeah, really good!” She grins. “Aemond mentioned we might fly to New York for New Year’s, go and see Daeron. I’ve not met him yet and I– oh!”

She bows her head, biting back the quiet moan that tries to escape her, as the egg inside her vibrates incessantly. Her head snaps up, making eye contact with Aemond, who stands in a corner with his phone out, a sly smile upon his face.

Bastard.

“You alright?” Helaena asks, eyebrows pinched together in concern.

“Mhm…just...champagne bubbles…they go right up my nose!” She feigns a laugh, embarrassment making her skin feel hot.

Ever the dutiful girlfriend, she does her rounds of the office, speaking to colleagues and family members alike, though every interaction is thwarted by sudden and persistent vibrations between her legs.

After an hour of polite chit chat with Alicent, Criston, Otto and several other party guests, she leans back against the wall next to Aemond’s office door, needing a breather from socialising, but also feeling lightheaded from the intermittent throbbing in her core.

The door swings slowly open and Aemond steps out, a crystal tumbler of amber liquid in hand.

“Having fun?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Mmm,” she narrows her eyes, “you clearly are. What’s that you’ve got?”

“Laphroaig,” he tells her, swirling the liquid in his glass. “Thirty six year old The Wall Peat, to be precise. Grandfather would never offer this around to the guests. Lucky for me I know he keeps it stashed in his bottom desk drawer.”

“Lucky indeed,” she purrs up at him.

He grabs her hand, pulling her into his office and closes the door behind them, before backing her up against the desk, until she perches on the edge.

“Let me see,” he whispers, pushing her dress up above her hips.

His free hand applies gentle pressure to her knee, spreading her legs, and she watches the bob of his throat as he swallows thickly, taking in the sight of the arousal that coats her centre.

“Fuck,” he mutters darkly. “The idea of you walking around making innocent small talk while you’re soaked is driving me mad.”

She giggles, clenching around the egg that’s nestled within her as she sees his gaze darken. Aemond pulls out his phone again, changing the setting to a constant vibrate, before setting it down on the desk behind her.

Mewling helplessly, shockwaves of pleasure ripple through her as Aemond’s thumb swipes against her sodden folds, spreading her open to watch intently.

He takes a sip from his glass, and she gasps as he grabs her forcefully by the hair at the back of her head, crushing her lips against his and letting the whisky pass from his mouth to hers. She moans quietly, the intensity of the burn of the liquid that slips down her throat and the throbbing ache between her legs making her feel dizzy.

She is devastatingly close, can feel the pressure building to boiling point, and she whines, pressing her face into the crook of Aemond’s neck, fingertips rumpling the fabric of his black button down shirt as she grasps his biceps for purchase. “Fuck, Aemond, I–”

“It’s alright, I’ve got you, let go,” he coos.

She bites down on the juncture of his neck to muffle her pleasured cry, earning her a startled grunt from Aemond. Her body spasms around the toy, climaxing with a force that makes her toes curl inside of her high heels, before going limp against his chest.

He settles his glass down and strokes her hair before pulling back. His long, dexterous fingers wrap around the cord of egg, and despite how gentle he is as he tugs it free, she still hisses with overstimulation as it leaves her body. The sudden feeling of emptiness is alien to her after having spent most of the evening with it inside of her.

“Can…can we go home now?” She asks tiredly, as he wraps the toy in tissue and deposits it on the desk.

“Hmmm, not just yet,” Aemond tells her, taking her hand and guiding it to palm over the erection that strains against the confines of his suit trousers. “I’m not quite finished with you yet.”

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emiko-matsui · 4 months

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I don't think you understand how much Beverly kissing the fae boy means to me. It's one of the most human character flaws Caldwell gave Beverly and I am kissing him on the mouth about it (no pun intended). The fact that he was in a relationship with Erlin and knew it was wrong, but still caved and kissed him... it's so good. When I was 15 years old in my first queer relationship that was something real, that was my best friend, and I valued nothing more than her and I would've also kissed that boy. I would've also known it was wrong and felt so much guilt and couldn't have stopped myself. I never got that opportunity and I am very grateful for that because I could never have imagined hurting her in that way, but when you're 15 (and maybe when you're queer, when you're seen by someone who's also not the ideal of society) all you want is to be loved. If somebody liked me like that, if somebody had shown me that interest, if somebody who was just like me had tried to kiss me. Yeah, I would've caved. I would've felt shit about it. I wouldn't have forgiven myself. I would've done it.

Today I would never cheat on a partner of mine given neither opportunity or wish. In no circumstance. But today I'm not 15 anymore. Today I just thank Caldwell for Beverly who showed something I didn't know I had been feeling at that time and showed that it did not make you a bad person. It made you 15.

#beverly 💞💖💓😫❤😭💘#naddpod #not another dnd podcast #bahumia #beverly toegold #beverly toegold v #erlin kindleaf #caldwell tanner #beverlin #a faerie tale

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chrlvctius · 6 months

Text

sanctuary

alexia putellas x reader fic!!

> soo angsty with a fluff at the end!! keeping my promises fr ‼️‼️

Your pov:

Your limbs went limp as one of the things you had always wanted slid through your hands as the final whistle blew, and it felt as though your heart took its final beat.

That hurt. You felt constricted and compressed due to exhaustion and emotion. You felt so little and helpless. You began to hear voices in your head, including those of your parents, siblings, and other family members. How would they react to this?

As multiple sounds erupted around the stadium, you collapsed to the ground with your head firmly buried into your lap while breathing deeply. Barcelona did win, but you fell up short. When Alexia scored the final goal, you were already defeated. You were supposed to own that. You were meant to be the one.

With tears in your eyes, you watched as Keira, Lucy, and Pina approached Alexia and embraced her. You were exhaling heavily and making an effort to stop your tears from falling to the ground by looking up at the sky. This was extremely unfortunate. Others would express their pride in you to you, but none of that would truly matter. Barcelona did win, but you came up short. It's always been you against the world.

You were the valued possession of your family. What's not to brag about when you're in Barcelona playing football with other professionals?

Before Alexia, you weren't used to coming in second in everything.

You hated her so much. She was competent and well-versed in every move, tackle, and technique, which you hated. You hated that others gave her some of the attention that was intended for you but went to her instead since she was always one step ahead of you. She was incredibly skilled, and you hated how well she played in every match. You hated the fact that she never made a mistake and was always perfect.

This was the only way you could prove your worth. You were in desperate need of this. You had to get everything just right. You needed to do better. Without this, you are nothing. Nothing worthy. The only thing that distinguishes you from the rest of your family was your love of football. It was the only thing that gave you life and made you feel seen.

Having this taken away from you entirely breaks you. You were only good at one thing that stood out.

You were never good at anything other than this. It's the only thing that has made you worthy. You truly have nothing and are nothing without this. You get deeply disappointed when you see someone doing something better than you have always done. When will the world stop taking things away from you?

You didn't see ona approaching you as you were looking up at the sky trying to stop your tears from falling to the ground. Ona sat next to you and simply looked at you, her eyes filled with pity.

She wrapped her hand around your shoulders and murmured, "Y/n.."

I looked at her with watery eyes. I probably looked completely worn out at this moment. with unkempt hair, glossy eyes, and bags under my eyes.

I replied "No, ona" despite the feeling of shaking in my voice.

I sigh and bury my face in the crook of her neck, "I hate this, I hate her so much. Why does it always have to be like this, why does this always happen to me?"

"I'm so sorry, y/n. I know that anything I say right now won't really change anything of what's just happened and i'm really sorry," Ona says while stroking my hair and kissing the top of my head.

For a while, Ona comforts me, and only then, when things began to feel lighter, did we stand up and follow the others to the changing room, with Ona promising to stay by my side the entire time I'm in there.

Alexia’s pov:

I was quite proud of the goals I received today. I was the happiest person alive after scoring that final goal because everyone appeared to be participating together. The girls approached and gave me many hugs and compliments.

"Congratulations, Ale! You deserve it", lucia said and stroked my shoulder, but Keira only gave me a hug and a tender whisper. Everyone was pleased, and Pina couldn't stop jumping and running around.

Not until I noticed y/n sitting down and ona seated next to her. I became aware that something was wrong at that point. Ona kept looking at me, and all I could see was pity.

I arched my eyebrows at her as if to indicate or inquire about what was wrong, but all Ona did was shake her head and keep rubbing Y/N's back. I began to feel strange and uneasy. All of a sudden, everything felt incredibly slow, and I was unable to make out any of the words that my teammates or the crowd were chanting. Right now, y/n was all that mattered to me.

I had never before seen her in such a state. She looked extremely weak and defeated. It made me feel weak as well. I felt weak after seeing her weak, and that wasn't nice.

"I think you have something to talk out with y/n," said Lucy and Mapi as they drew nearer to me and also glanced at Ona and Y/N.

I simply nodded, but it was so clear that I appeared absolutely off and weak as I immediately headed for the changing rooms.

As soon as Ona and I entered the changing room, everyone turned to stare at me, and it was evident that everyone felt sorry for me. As I was making my way to the showers, everyone started patting me on the back. At this time, I didn't really give a shit. I felt so worthless and numb.

What had been seconds changed to minutes, and those to hours. I didn't even notice or hear Ona tapping on the glass door and telling me she'll be gone because she needs to tend to things.

I was just staring at the wall, tears streaming down my cheeks. I didn't know what to do anymore. I didn't know what to say to my family. I can already hear my father telling me how much of a disgrace I am to our family.

I almost had it. I had it in my grasp but couldn't keep it. I hate the fact that there is always an "almost" in everything I do. "Almost had it" , "Almost perfect" , "Almost" . It frustrates me because no matter how hard I try, nothing ever works out. I tried my hardest at everything, yet I always ended up being average. I hate the fact that every time I was ultimately seen by everyone, there were only fleeting moments of recognition.

I hate how Alexia doesn't even have to try that hard, whereas I have to try my hardest.

I gave everything I had just to be seen. I've always been second, third, or last in line to my siblings. Every time I'm second to Alexia, my stomach drops. Everything I do is never enough, and all of my efforts are never reciprocated. I hate how I'm always giving but never getting anything in return. I hate how I'm always the second option, the background person, the ignored side character. No matter what I do, I can never really be enough for anyone, and I hate how invisible I become when I lose "something."

Having to go through this again literally kills me. I wish I had never felt this way because I hate it. I hate feeling this way. I hate how depressed I am and how the universe is against me. How it weakens me to the point where I am unable to do anything. I poured my heart and soul into that match. I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for nothing in the end.

After what seemed like hours, I stepped from the shower, still wearing my robe, and was taken aback to see alexia seated on the bench near my locker. She looked up at me with concern in her eyes, and she stood up and approached me, and I just stood there, not knowing what to do since I didn't want to see her or talk to her after what happened.

"y/n," she said as she approached me. Even after hours of showering, I probably looked like crap. I knew this wasn't going to go well with my eyes red and puffy, and possibly still tearing up.

I walked past her, but she grabbed my wrist. "What do you need, alexia?" I asked back, and she glanced at me with concern.

"I just got concerned about you, i wanted to check up on you after seeing you and ona sitting on the pitch awhile ago"

"Oh, so you do see?" I joked, laughing a little.

"What do you mean? I don't understand," alexia replied, still clutching my wrist.

"You know, now isn't a good time to talk to me," I muttered, attempting to free my wrist from her clutches, but she drew me in closer.

"No, tell me what's wrong. What happened back there? What's wrong with you?" she said, and just hearing someone ask if I was okay made me want to ball my eyes out since that question will always have a major effect on me.

I pulled my wrist from her grasps and turned around, keeping calm. "You really want to know, huh?" I asked, although it was plain in my voice that I was about to burst out bawling.

"Yes, I do want to know, y/n. Tell me what's wrong," she begged pleadingly.

Still turned around, fresh tears welled up in my eyes for what seemed like the thousandth time today. "That goal was supposed to be mine; it was meant for me, but you took it away," I cried out, my voice quivering with dismay and rage. I never intended to yell or shout at her in that manner, but it just seemed right. I've never been someone who likes to yell. Whenever something bad happened, I handled it correctly and kept silent, but doing this just seemed right. I didn't care who heard me yell or anything; all I wanted to do was express my outrage.

"I know how you feel," she responded, and I screamed back, "No, you don't! You'll never know how I feel, you'll never know what this feels like because you're not in my place," I cried, tears flowing down my face. I cried as I punched her chest in an attempt to push her away, but she just stayed there, letting me punch her chest while crying.

"You'll never know how it feels like to keep on trying and trying and nothing really happening, you'll never feel the need to try harder because you're already the best, you don't even have to fucking try, alexia! You don't!" I shouted as I stared at her and breathed deeply.

She looked at me and licked her lips as she tried to figure out what to say. "Trust me, I've been there, y/n. I know how heavy and painful it is to lose and to let people down. I've been there, I promise you. I've done that a lot of times already. I may not know what you're feeling right now, I may not know what you want to do but all I want is to be here with you because I've been there. I've see all of it"

"All I want is to be here for you because no one has ever been," she added as I turned my back on her and faced the locker again.

I was still turned around, crying, and leaning against the locker when I heard footsteps approaching and felt two arms circling my waist and squeezing me tightly. I didn't stop her because I didn't have the energy to do so anymore. I was just tired, numb, and exhausted. I was tired of others controlling me, invalidating me, telling me what to do and what not to do, and I was tired of my family's expectations of me. I just wanted to breathe and feel like the world wasn't always against me.

I relaxed into Alexia's touch, turned around to face her, held her, and cried while hiding my face in the crook of her neck.

I just kept crying while hugging her, and she just stood there stroking my hair and whispered words into my ears to calm me down. I felt like I poured all of my pain into my eyes as I cried.

I'm not normally a fan of physical interaction, but Alexia hugging me like this felt just right. It felt so right. It surprised me since everything felt right when she hugged me. Everything felt right. I felt comfortable and secure in her arms.

Being in her arms felt just right. I was the perfect fit for her, and she was the perfect fit for mine. The moment Alexia hugged me, all the voices in my head stopped yelling. It was as though a switch had been flipped. It seemed as if the world had come to a stop and nothing else mattered. Being in her arms felt like home, and I swear, I have no idea what home feels like because mine never did, but I just knew that this felt so much like home. This has to be it.

I had stopped crying after about an hour, but I was still in her arms, and I didn't want to let go. I was afraid that if I did, all the voices would return to haunt me.

Alexia took a thorough glance at me and examined my face, as if she was memorising every detail of my face, before softly smiling. "I'm sorry that you feel this way and I'd do anything to make you feel better, I really do." She went on to say, "No one should ever treat you like this, no one should ever feel like this. I may not know what problems you have with your family but you don't deserve all that treatment from them"

She caressed my face, and just by doing so, new fresh tears flowed because I'd been wanting for someone to do this for god knows how long. "You are enough, you are more than enough," she says, cupping my face.

"I've seen how hard you worked this season and I couldn't be more proud of you. If you felt like you didn't do much, I know you did. From the bottom of my heart, I know. I've been with you the whole time, y/n," she added, her eyes welling up with tears.

She hugged me, and I hugged her back with all I had, and she laughed when she realised how hard I hugged her back.

"I'm not going anywhere, y/n, I'll stay with you," she said, to which I answered, "I know you will, I'm just testing the waters here," and she and I both giggled.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, ale," I whispered, putting my face in the crook of her neck.

I felt her smile when she heard me call her by the nickname that our friends called her, and I can assure you that I have never used that nickname on her.

"Get dressed, okay? And then I'll take you out to dinner," she added as she kissed my head. I nodded and followed her instructions.

After getting dressed, she extended her hand, which I gladly accepted. I intertwined our fingers and left.

"Is this a date?" I joked, and she grinned and drew me in closer.

"Only if you want it to be," she chuckled and kissed my cheek, and we both laughed and proceeded to walk with our hands firmly interlaced, never letting go.

I'm actually proud of this, what 😭😭 nah but fr ! I hope y'all enjoyed this coz I did HELPPP angst is defi my top 1 ! fluff my second <3 🤍 thank youuuuuu!! aaaaaaa plss give me more ideas on the comsec or just ask mee! thank you, thank youuuu aaa ilyy mwaaaa

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ks-dreams-fantasies · 6 months

Text

CLOSER | TRAVIS KELCE

a/n: Two stories in the same day ? Why not. Here's a little fluff about meeting Donna for the first time. Hope you like it 🥰

Warning: None

Words: 822

Pairing: Travis Kelce x Reader

Anon: I have a Travis request where reader meet his parents/family.

CLOSER | TRAVIS KELCE

As the autumn leaves painted the town in shades of gold and crimson, you prepared for a significant moment in your relationship with Travis.

Tonight, you would meet his mother, Donna, a woman he held in the highest regard. The anticipation tingled in the air, mixing with the aroma of roasted vegetables and simmering sauce. You were at Travis’s place, preparing dinner for his mom.

With each slice of the knife and stir of the pot, your thoughts wandered to Travis's stories of his mother. She was his everything - the rock that steadied him through life's turbulent moments, and the guiding light that inspired him to reach for the stars. You wanted to make a good impression, not just for the sake of a dinner, but to show her that you understood and valued the woman who had shaped the incredible man you loved.

You felt hands snaked around your waist and a fresh but musky scent filled your nose, leaning in, Travis’s warmth enveloped you.

‘’Smells amazing baby’’ he said resting his head on top of yours.

You got interrupted as the doorbell chimed, your heart skipping a beat. Travis released his grip and got to the door, inviting his mom inside. There she stood, a warm smile on her face, exuding a kindness that seemed to radiate from her very being.

"Hello, dear. You must be the lovely Y/N" she said, extending her hand.

"Yes, it's so wonderful to finally meet you," You replied, feeling instantly at ease.

The evening unfolded seamlessly. You guys chatted about family, hobbies, and life in general. Her eyes sparkled with laughter as she shared stories of Travis and Jason's childhood antics.

"Oh, you should've seen him trying to ride that old bicycle!" she chuckled. "He was determined, but it took him a few tumbles to get the hang of it. And don’t even get me started about him wanting to play football and follow in his brother’s footsteps.’’

You couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the glimpse into his past, a past that had paved the way for your future together.

As you gathered around the table, the spread before you was a feast fit for a queen. The clinking of cutlery and glasses was accompanied by an easy camaraderie.

"Oh, the time he tried to make pancakes by himself! I came home to find flour all over the kitchen." Laughter filled the room as Travis sheepishly admitted to the pancake disaster.

"This meal is exquisite, dear. You're quite the chef."

"Thank you. I wanted to make a special dinner for our first meeting."

"That is very sweet of you. This lasagna is absolutely delicious," Donna exclaimed. "You must share the recipe with me!"

With a smile, you replied, "Of course! I'd be happy to." You looked over to your boyfriend seeing the genuine smile placed on his lips.

As dessert arrived, Travis's eyes met yours with a silent thank you. He had been nervous about this meeting, anxious for his mother's approval. Seeing her laugh and converse with you, he knew that she was just as pleased with you as he was.

After dessert, you retired to the living room, where the crackling fire cast a cozy glow.

"Would you like some coffee or tea?" You asked Donna "A cup of tea sounds lovely, thank you."

Wrapped in the warmth of conversation, you felt a sense of belonging that went beyond mere introductions.

"So Y/N, tell me more about your work," she inquired, her eyes filled with genuine interest. She reminded you of your own mother.

You eagerly shared your passions, and she listened with an attentiveness that made you feel truly valued.

As the evening drew to a close, Travis walked his mother to the door, leaving you a moment of quiet reflection.

"Thank you for tonight," she said, her voice warm and genuine. "You make my son so happy, and that's all a mother could ever ask for."

Touched by her words, you smiled. "Thank you for raising such an incredible man. He means the world to me."

With a final hug, she left, leaving behind a newfound sense of connection and acceptance. You watched Travis as he returned, his smile radiant.

"Thank you for being amazing," he murmured, pulling you close. You wrapped your arms around his rib cage, hugging him tight. "Your mom is awesome, Trav. I can see where you get your warmth and kindness."

"She really liked you, and that means the world to me. I'm so lucky to have you in my life." He said kissing the top of your head before leading you to the backyard.

That night, under a canopy of stars, you sat on the porch swing, wrapped in blankets, hands entwined. As the cool breeze danced around you, you couldn't help but feel immense gratitude for the evening that had brought you and Travis a little closer.

Taglist : @kkrenae @spencerreidisbootiful @nabiiturner @ilove-tswizzle @legit9thlunaticwarrior @evernova @kelcemenow @bellstwd @my-regrets @green-lxght

#travis kelce #travis kelce fic #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce nfl #travis kelce x reader #kelce x reader #nfl fic #nfl imagine #travis x reader

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