#rule the court; my edits

[writingwithfolklore]

Punctuation Rules

Punctuation is like the very last thing I actively think about when writing something (what's the point of fixing the punctuation of a sentence you'll end up taking out or editing anyway?) but it is still an important step!

Having proper punctuation increases your credibility and the overall quality of your work. Also, it’s doubly important in professional work, emails, and resumes. With that, let’s get into it!

Commas

We use them all the time. We get them wrong all the time. There are six rules for where you can use commas:

Use to separate items in a list or series:

The book was long, tedious, and painful.

The comma after tedious is called the Oxford’s comma. Feel free to debate if you need it in the reblogs, but you won’t get in trouble professionally if you use it or leave it out (in most cases.) It always comes before ‘and’ in a list to prevent confusion of the items:

I ran into my mother, my best friend and a scientist. (1 person?)

Is very different from

I ran into my mother, my best friend, and a scientist. (3 people)

2. Use to separate independent clauses, with a coordinating conjunction.

An independent clause is just a sentence that makes sense on its own.

A coordinating conjunction is: and, but, or so.

Miley had a ton of work to do, so she set her alarm early.

3. Use after an introductory statement.

Introductory statements begin with many different words, but typically: Before, after, when, while, as soon as, etc.

Before her first class, Stacy looked up her prof on Rate Your Teacher.

Main point about this, “Before her first class” is not an independent clause, it needs a second part.

4. Use to surround info in a sentence

This info is not essential to the sense-making of the sentence, but it should be relevant.

Parents, no matter how skilled, cannot function at 100% all the time.

5. Addresses and Dates

6. And with direct quotes

Important for essay writing.

Casey said, “I hate this house!”

Colons:

Introduce a list after a complete sentence:

I have three favourite foods: spaghetti, chowder, and garlic bread.

2. Use after ‘the following’ or ‘as follows’

Please provide the following information: your date of birth, full name, and address.

3. Don't use with sentence fragments

A sentence fragment is an unfinished sentence (that doesn’t make sense on its own).

My favourite foods are: spaghetti, chowder, and garlic bread.

This is wrong because, “My favourite foods are.” Isn’t an independent clause.

4. Introduce an explanation

My parents ask one thing of me: that I try my hardest.

5. Introduce a quotation

Mom always quoted the bible: “The truth will set you free.”

6. And times (12:00)

Semi-Colon:

Not super common, but makes you look good if you can use it properly.

Separate two related independent clauses

I never drink Starbucks; it tastes burnt.

2. Similar, but with conjunctions: however, moreover, therefore, nevertheless, etc.

I don’t like Starbucks; however, it does the job.

Agatha didn’t witness anything; nevertheless, she was called in to court.

3. Use to avoid misreading in a series

The invited guests are the club leader; the treasurer; the new member, Jason Tanner; and Wanda Johnson, the investor.

Semicolons clarify the separation between the four people. Had it been, “The club leader, the treasurer, The new member, Jason Tanner…” it would seem that the new member and Jason Tanner are two different people.

Apostrophes – Possessive

‘s shows possession of a singular noun

The girl’s parents were quite rich.

2. S’ shows possession of a plural noun

The students’ books were all over the place. (there are multiple students who have books)

3. ‘s to singular words ending in s, and nouns that are plural

My boss’s office My children’s toys

Apostrophes – Contractions

Use to combine two words (they are, he is, there is, etc.)

It is -> It’s a beautiful park They are -> They’re really good friends You are -> you’re good at this and so on.

#writing #creative writing #writers #screenwriting #writing community #writing inspiration #books #film #filmmaking #writing advice #punctuation #punctuation rules #rules of punctuation

[kiyoomi-levin]

Morning Routine [nsfw]

(Wakatoshi Ushijima x F!Reader)

a/n this is something i wrote and edited today in a single run >.< I wanted to release a haikyuu fluff fic for my tumblr debut but i was just possessed by something this morning and rolled outta bed and just typed this up hehe.. reblogs and comments appreciated!! i have like 12 unfinished works rn and i am busting my ass off to get those finished and published! please be on the lookout for more from me!

summary:: wakatoshi has a bad habit-- his morning routine revolves around you. more specifically, cumming to the sounds of you. warnings:: wakatoshi is highkey a creep/stalker but this fic is fluffy i promise music rec!:: 2fast by superm <AKA the song i listened to when writing> word count:: 1.9k

6:33 AM, the blinking clock reads. 

He doesn’t even need an alarm now. 

Silently, Wakatoshi rolls over, reaches over to his nightstand and grasps the two items he needs most– lube and toilet paper. 

Sighing, he sits himself up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, and, as if awaiting instructions, goes very, very still. 

In a way, he is waiting for orders. You just aren’t aware that you’re the one giving them. 

6:34 AM. A mere minute before you’re up and he can get started with his day. It doesn’t feel right, yet he can’t stop. Shaking his head, Wakatoshi shifts his weight around, impatient. 

I should stop. 

There it is. That nagging voice of reason that scolds him every morning. But really, at this point, he can’t function normally without you. 

There’s a certain amount of stress that comes with carrying the title of ace. All the papers praising his skills, cheering fangirls, and words of encouragement from coach only added to the ever growing expectations that people had for him. 

Luckily, when he was a senior in high school, Wakatoshi had discovered what best alleviates this pressure– not meditation, not Tendo’s comics, but sexual relief. 

Every morning, a quick handjob does the job, gets him into prime condition. He even checked with his primary doctor to ensure it’s safe and healthy to release everyday– “you’ll be fine, Wakatoshi, as long as you don’t consume too much porn,” the old man had advised kindly. 

He took the doctor’s words to heart– since he had discovered this method of relief, Wakatoshi had never viewed porn. Some of his teammates laughed at him when they found out he almost religiously avoids it, but he doesn’t want to contaminate his brain with potentially intrusive or disturbing visions. His imagination has always been enough, after all. 

Until he met you.

In a way, you’re both a blessing and a curse– probably the latter, he admits to himself. Because since he’d met you months ago, the only thing that’s been able to get him up is you. 

He’s never slept so well, his skin has never looked so clear, and, most importantly, his condition on court has never been better. He’s considered the possibility of you being a goddess, or possibly his guardian angel and can only rule those out with the fact that you, like him, masturbate. 

More accurately, masturbate. Every. Single. Morning. 

Then he hears it. The first soft moan. Wakatoshi glances at the time– 6:37 AM. You’re getting a slightly late start today. 

No matter. He lifts his hips, gently rolls down his gray sweats to his lower thigh. He’s already hard. He doesn’t even have to touch himself now to get excited. Your quiet voice and the thoughts of you are enough.

Poor you. You’re unaware that despite residing in a luxurious, single-person room reserved for school athletes, the walls are criminally thin. 

Wakatoshi pops open the lid of the lube, squirting a glob into his warm hand. He throws aside the bottle, barely registering as it bounces off the bed, only intent on listening into the sounds of you and your body. 

When he first grasps his cock, he has to hold back a groan. Despite it being an everyday routine, he still feels the same surge of pleasure as when he first started this nasty habit months ago. 

You're breathing slightly more heavily now, and he hears the sounds of your fingers inserting and exiting your body at a familiar pace. He follows along, carefully stroking up and down. 

He wonders where you’ve learned this from, because you always go at the perfect pace. Somedays, you go slower, teasing yourself, pausing just before you orgasm, but it’s always. 

It’s always exactly what he needs.

God. He knows this is wrong, even as he pumps faster with his left hand to keep up with your quick fingers. It feels so good. 

Next door, you’re beginning to let out soft cries.

He presses his thumb against the tip, holding back a moan of his own as he envisions you jerking him off. 

He’s seen your hand before– extra soft from being in gloves for multiple hours daily as a fencer. 

Thinking about your sport has him thinking about his, and now he’s back to thinking about how wrong this is. But he can’t help it, he’s already tried to give it up once– yielding horrible results. 

The day he held back and skipped a morning fap session with you was also the hardest day of his life. He had found himself unable to focus in lecture, especially grumpy towards Tendo’s typically bearable antics, and worst of all, all his hits were off. 

“Your schedule must be off,” his captain had said, casually tossing a ball high into the air.

“Bad sleep? Rough morning?” 

Wakatoshi had blinked at him wordlessly, wondering how the tall setter had guessed accurately. 

“It’s fine,” the third-year had reassured him, “just get back on track tomorrow.”

With that, Wakatoshi had found himself ‘back on track,’ masturbating with– no, to you– every morning. 

You’re moaning out loud now, almost whimpering. His cock pulses in his hands, veins bulging, growing hotter and heavy. Fuck, he just wants to see you right now. Your cute face, your sexy neck, gorgeous arms... 

He can almost see it now– your smooth thighs shaking and twisting as your small hands would grasp your pillow. He’d make you feel so good, he just knows it. He’d lean against you, kiss your neck and ear before whispering how good you are, how you’re making him cum, how much he loves you! 

You’d cum, and he wouldn’t stop. He’d want to see your eyes roll back over and over again, and he’d memorize every inch of your face.

Wakatoshi holds back another groan. His fisted hand feels so good against his cock, especially as it imagines it’s your tight pussy. 

Contrary to what Tendo believes (the only one to know about this bad habit) it wasn’t just your soft moans and quiet gasps that had him clenching his sheets as he lifted his hips.

He had long fallen for you, since you had first locked eyes with him in the long hallway. 

There was something about you. The way you always smile up at him gently– not in the way that other girls smile at him, as if they want something (usually his number)– but a genuine smile, eyes crinkling slightly.  

This unexpected attraction was only exacerbated when you sat next to him at the first-years’ dinner party. You smelled so fucking good and listened to his words with actual interest, asking him about his family and laughing at his lame jokes.

Unfortunately, he was also scared. 

He had heard about the countless rejections you’d dished out since the first day of university. 

Despite his perceived sexual ignorance, Wakatoshi knew everything there was to know– he was popular, too, in his own right. Tall and lean, there were girls throwing themselves on him left and right. 

But he only wanted you. 

Today, he must be extra stressed (especially with that upcoming psychology exam that he hasn’t studied for yet) because he’s so, so close, yet can’t seem to finish. 

Fine then. 

He leans over, grabs his cell phone. He only does this in emergency cases, which occurs about once or twice a month. 

Swiping up, he’s greeted by his photo gallery, opened the night prior for this cause. 

In his locked gallery awaits dozens of photos of you. 

Obviously none were taken by him! 

Wakatoshi’s a creep, but one with manners and boundaries. 

This gallery is cluttered with headshots of you from the school’s official website, silly photos of you that were sent into the college athlete’s group chat, and his favorite– photos of you from your close friend who sells them to him at fair prices, starting at $10 minimum. 

None are suggestive. But they still rile him up, maybe because the only connection he has with you is through your early morning activities. 

Wakatoshi desperately taps on the newest picture he bought for $40, quadruple the usual price– he can hear your breath hitching, and he knows you’re almost done. 

He wants to finish with you so bad. 

He was going to save this picture for next week, when he knows you’ll be gone for the fencing nationals and he’ll have to cum without you for an entire miserable, dreadful, god-forsaken week–

but he doesn’t care now. Nothing matters. 

It’s a glorious photo– when he heard your friend had it, he had grabbed her by the shoulders and demanded a price. 

You. On the beach. Under an umbrella. Lying on a purple towel.

He had paid an extra ten dollars for the motion picture– so he could watch you go from ass up onto your back, breasts jiggling and cheeky smirk in full action.

That’s enough. 

He holds his fist tight–one more pump and he’s finished, but he wants to make sure you’re cumming first– and he hears it– to his relief, you’re moaning and whispering– “‘m cumming!” 

Yeah, he’s cumming too. His hips lift again, and he drags his closed fist downwards against his wet cock. His vision blurs. 

“Fuck!” 

He can’t help it, today’s orgasm is especially strong, taking control of his full body. He’s shaking, mind barely in control as he continues to slowly pump to ride out the whole orgasm. After all, that’s what you’d do, right? You’d keep riding him, even as he finished and begged you to stop. 

Thank God we came together.

Sometimes, you bait him. More often than he likes, you switch it up, holding yourself back and not allowing yourself to cum before masturbating all over again for an even more powerful orgasm. Those days suck– when he’s already softening, cum all over his large hands, and you’re still going. 

He hears your bed squeak, and he sighs– as soon as it starts, it’s already over.

6:45 AM, his phone reads. Wakatoshi tosses it aside.

Thankfully, he had pulled his phone away in time, avoiding tainting the device with his release. A few times a month, he gets careless and cums onto an open picture of you, causing him to have to run through his shower extra fast so he can leave time to wipe down the device.

Rolling off the bed, he heads towards the shower leisurely. It’s also become a part of his routine to time his shower. It makes him feel even more intimately connected to you. 

Wakatoshi’s grateful you take long showers– you’ve never taken less than 24 minutes to shower, typically, they last about 34 minutes on average. That gives him the time to jump out first and wait to exit his room at the same time you depart from yours. 

Under the heat of warm water, he’s usually consumed with thoughts of you, impossible thoughts, like maybe you know. 

The wall between you and him is equally thin, and your hearing may be as equally good as his…

Maybe you know, and you like masturbating with him. 

And then, just as a precaution, he douses himself with cold water at the end of his shower, and those thoughts dissipate with the steam escaping towards the vent. 

Like everyday, Wakatoshi laces his shoes, sprays on his favorite cologne (that your friend claims you like) and inhales, bracing himself to see you. 

As he hears your feet shuffle, he pushes his door open first, stepping out into the warm hallway.

“Good morning, Wakatoshi!” You greet, eyes brightening. He nods, gulping. That’s an acceptable form of greeting, right?

As the two of you walk towards the elevator in silence, Wakatoshi can’t help but hope that this morning routine won’t be coming to a stop anytime soon. 

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

a/n and that's a wrap :,) i really hope you liked and sorry the ending is highkey shit LOL as i kept editing i kept adding and removing more and more and honestly that's kind of my biggest weakness:: i'm never satisfied with my work and i'm scared ppl won't like it ... but i'm trying to overcome that!

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu #wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu wakatoshi #hq wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima smut #haikyuu ushijima #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader

[aphroditelovesu]

.navigation

✿.｡Welcome to my blog! My name is Larissa, but feel free to call me Lari or Lady L, which is how you know me. I'm Brazilian 🇧🇷 and I was born on October 15th. English is not my first language. My pronouns are she/her and I am bisexual 💖💜💙. I am Libra ♎️ and INTP.

⤷♡. If you want to support my work or to just tip me, can you buy me a coffee? ☕️

⤷✿.Here I've gathered all my series, masterlists and some additional things to make them easier to find. Enjoy my blog, dear reader.

© aphroditelovesu, 2022. all rights reserved. do not translate or repost my work without my permission. you are free to use my edits, but I only ask that you credit me.

⤷♡.+ disclaimer: some of my works may have nsfw content in addition to the yandere genre. if you are sensitive to these topics, I recommend not reading.

⤷♡.+ genre: yandere/dark!au.

⤷♡.+ Requests are OPEN. Asks and concepts are open.

⤷♡.+ character ai: aphroditelovesu.

⤷♡.+ Rules and Fandoms List;

⤷♡.+ Emoji Prompt List + Prompts List;

⤷♡.+ Wips; 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6; 7; 8;

⤷♡.+ Commissions;

‘‘Love you so bad, love you so bad, mold a pretty lie for you.’‘ ˚˖੭ Fake Love, BTS.

⤷♡.+ BTS; 💜

⤷♡.+ BLACKPINK; 🖤

⤷♡.+ ITZY; 🧡

⤷♡.+ Stray Kids; 💙

➷ EXO: Yandere Baekhyun (Romantic), Yandere Suho (Romantic).

➷ TWICE: Imagine as Classmates.

⤷♡.+ Greek Mythology; ⚡

⤷♡.+ Egyptian Mythology; 𓂀

⤷♡.+ Historical Characters; 📜

➷ The Lost Queen | Yandere!Alexander the Great ❝You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn't understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren't safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won't let you go so easily.❞ The Lost Queen Series Masterlist

⤷♡.+ The Vampire Diaries + The Originals; 🧛

⤷♡.+ House of the Dragon; 🐉

⤷♡.+ Game of Thrones; ❄️

⤷♡.+ The Sandman; ⌛

⤷♡.+ Outlander; 🗿

⤷♡.+ Wednesday; 🎻

⤷♡.+ Brooklyn Nine-Nine; 👮‍♂️

⤷♡.+ Bridgerton; 🐝

⤷♡.+ Shadow and Bone; ☠️

⤷♡.+ Outer Banks; 💰

⤷♡.+ K-Dramas; ❤️

⤷♡.+ Reign; 👑

⤷♡.+ The Tudors; 🗡️

⤷♡.+ Hannibal; 🍽

➷ The Bloody Viscount | Yandere!Anthony Bridgerton ❝You had fallen in love with Viscount Bridgerton and he had fallen in love with you. The marriage seemed perfect, but then why did Anthony Bridgerton always come home late and bloodstained?❞ Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; ➷ The Shadow of the Golden Dragon | Yandere!ASOIAF/HOTD/GOT ❝You have always been an avid reader and your greatest passion was delving into the pages of "A Song of Ice and Fire" by George R.R. Martin. You knew every character, every twist and every detail of the Seven Kingdoms as if they were part of your own life. But what you never imagined is that an unexpected encounter with a mysterious antique book seller would change your life forever.❞ The Shadow of the Golden Dragon Masterlist

⤷♡.+ Percy Jackson; 🌊

⤷♡.+ Harry Potter; 🔮

⤷♡.+ A Court of Thorns and Roses; 🌹

⤷♡.+ A Song of Ice and Fire; 🔥

‘‘We were born to be alone but why we still looking for love?’‘ ˚˖੭ Lovesick Girls, BLACKPINK.

⤷♡.+ Attack on Titan; ⚔️

⤷♡.+ Naruto; 🍥

⤷♡.+ Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir; 🐞

⤷♡.+ One Piece; 👒

⤷♡.+ How To Train Your Dragon; 🐲

⤷♡.+ Death Note; 📓

‘‘Don’t you know that you’re toxic?’’ ˚˖੭ Toxic, Britney Spears.

⤷♡.+ Marvel; ۞

‘‘I wish you would love me again, no, I don't want nobody else.’’ ˚˖੭ Love Me Again, V.

⤷♡.+ Love Letters; 💕

⤷♡.+ Love Letters II; 💕

⤷♡.+ Kinktober 2023; 🎃

➷ A Black Rose | Yandere!Ian Daerier ❝A cruel and narcissistic reaper falls in love with the woman he was supposed to take the life of.❞ Oneshot;

#navigation #masterpost #masterlist #masterlists #rules #fandoms list #prompts #emoji prompt #prompt list #yandere au #love letters #wips #yandere #dark au #📌 pinned post

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Something Old, Something New

Spencer Reid used to know everything about Y/N Y/L/N. But what happens when ten years after they last saw each other, they just so happen to bump into one another.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

TW: Brief mentions of domestic violence, the slightest implications of DV, mentions of guns, Spencer hating JJ, colorful language.

Notes: This is my first ever fan fiction and so I’d absolutely love some feedback! I really want to expand this into either a full sized fic, or a series. Would anyone be interested in that ???? This takes place during S7E1 in which the team is on Trial because of their actions with Ian Doyle, Declan Doyle, and the others. One of my fav Reid episodes, and just a good one overall. Side note, it’s barely edited, apologies in advance. 

GIF not mine.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“If you want to punish me for taking a risk, then I encourage you to do that, but do not put the rest of my team on trial for something I suggested.” The words flew out of his mouth. Some might think it was because he wasn’t thinking clearly. But he was. Senator Cramer was not amused. “Calm down Agent.”

“This is calm, and it’s doctor.”

“That’s all then, Doctor Reid.”  

“Thank you, Senator.” His chair scraped across the floor as he stood up. Spencer turned around and exited the jury room, door slamming behind him.

The team all stared as he stalked past them, and out towards the bathroom. JJ started to follow him before Derek put his hand up in front of her.

“Derek–”

“Let him go JJ.”

She sighed before turning around and walking the opposite direction. Just then, one of the clerks opened the door to the room and requested that Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia enter next.

As Spencer walked towards the bathroom, his mind was racing a million miles an hour. His anger was surely justified and the Senator was not listening to him, at all. Especially since the only thing the committee really even wants to do is have an excuse to transplant every one of his teammates—

“Shit!”

Spencer had collided with someone. Head on.

“O-oh, I’m..” He quickly bent down to help her pick up the various items now strewn across the floor, due to his negligence to his surroundings.

“I’m so sorry.” He managed to sputter out before actually managing to look up to the person he bumped into, holding out the remaining item on the floor–a small black binder, clearly heavier than it looked.

The woman he had run into smiled quickly, but kindly at him.

“It’s okay—thank you—don’t worry about it. Could’ve had a coffee or something in my hand and then we would have had a serious issue.” She placed the binder back into her bag, somehow already neatly organized despite being completely empty and on the floor a minute before. She laughed a little before smiling at him.

Reid smiled back at her.

“I-I really am sorry about all your….” He tapered off. “Y/N?”

Y/N really looked at him for a moment before her whole face shifted. “Spencer?”

Both stared at one another in the hallway until a voice called over to the two of them “Hey Pretty Boy, we’re getting called in.”

Y/N tilted her head, a small smirk making its way across her lips.

“...Pretty Boy?”

“Yeah—–Well. No. It’s his nickname for me, uh..”

“Reid!”

She smiled at him. “Go Spencer. I’m here all day. Maybe you should look for me downstairs in the library when you’re done testifying in…” she peered around him and looked at where Derek was standing. “Federal Court? Oh Spencer, didn’t know you had become such a rule breaker.”

“A lot’s happened in the past ten years Y/N.” He smiled at her before turning around and walking towards Derek who pushed his lips together, trying not to make a bigger scene than before.

“Are we going to talk about whoever that is?”

“Nope.” Spencer pushed past Derek and into the courtroom.

_________________________________________________________

Once the team, except for Prentiss, was released into the hallway, JJ tried to grab Spencer's hand.

“Spence—”

“Not now Jennifer.” Spencer quickly maneuvered himself away from JJ, and headed towards the double doors at the end of the hall.

“Reid…” JJ tried again, but Spencer just pushed past the doors and walked down the stairs. He walked down two flights before exiting the stairwell. He found himself in front of the library, next to a small local cafe that clearly catered to exhausted lawyers and their incessant clients. Reid walked past the little cafe and entered the library. He realized that he didn’t know what type of Law Y/N practiced so he wouldn’t know where in the library she would be, but it wouldn’t matter since she was sitting at one of the tables next to the windows, trying to soak up as much sun while she withered away in the library. She sat with her back to the doors, maybe because the glare was too blinding on the laptop in front of her, or maybe because she couldn’t stop looking up at the entrance hoping a certain Doctor would enter.

Spencer approached her and stood in front of the empty chair.

“This taken?”

Y/N looked up, smiled, and nodded.

“By you Doctor Reid. Please, have a seat.”

Spencer laughed lightly and sat down.

“I feel like I’m in a client meeting.”

Y/N shook her head and closed her laptop.

“Not unless you have something you need a divorce lawyer for Reid.”

Reid looked at the books scattered in front of her, noting what books she had, and what cases she had opened them to.

“Tough case?” He nodded towards the books that she was busy tidying and shoving off to the side. Y/N sighed and stacked the books on the side of the table near the window.

“Not necessarily anything I can’t deal with, it’s just brutal to see someone be repeatedly assaulted by their husband, and–I’m sorry. That’s so…That’s so grim, I didn’t mean to bring the mood, um, down.” She laughed nervously and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

“Believe it or not, that is probably a regular topic on a weekly basis for me.” Spencer gave her a sheepish smile.

“Wh-” She smiled and shook her head. A ray of sun was slowly stretched across her face, illuminating her eyes, and captivating Spencer. “Well, Doctor Reid. Tell me what a man like you is doing with three PhDs and multiple Bachelor's degrees these days in which you deal with such graphic topics and have to be on trial in Federal Court?”

Reid smiled at his folded hands. “I’m a–uh–profiler for the FBI’s BAU—Behavioural Analysis Unit. We, uh, look at the way an unsub–unknown subject–behaves, as well as the victims behavior, and create profiles based off of that information to help law enforcement agencies, at every level, across the country.” Spencer finished his ramble by biting his bottom lip, and smiling at her. “As for the trail…my team led an operation that was…not at all by the book.”

Y/n nodded, choosing, for Spencer’s sake, to not prod further into the reason he was at the courthouse.“So can you analyze people just by…looking at them?”

Spencer nodded at her. “Yeah, I mean that’s not all that we do. We make preliminary personality profiles yes, but I’ve also made linguistic profiles and geographical profiles–But, uh, y-yeah I can do that…”

“So profile me then Doctor Reid.”

Reid’s brain short circuited at that moment. “I-uh, you. Um. You want me to….”

“Profile me. Yes.” Y/N bit her lip. “Unless, you’re lying to me Spencer.”

Spencer took a breath before locking eyes with her.

“You’re wearing a tailor made dress for you, which means you have enough money to be able to buy nice clothes, and buy someone’s labor to make them for you. Since the dress is well made and uses an expensive material, the case today is really important to you–from the books I’m assuming a messy divorce involving domestic abuse since that is what all of your books are about, and it involves weapons of some type, most likely guns, because one of those books is dedicated entirely to United States versus Hayes, which deals with convicted domestic abusers not being allowed to purchase guns or have a gun license. When I sat down you also had one of the books open to District of Columbia versus Heller, which deals with an individual’s right to possess a firearm unless they’re a convicted felon or mentally ill. You’re not wearing any makeup which means you’re confident about this case, and your client, regardless of her current physical state. It also means you’re confident in yourself, and don't feel the need to hide your face in any way. You’re wearing shoes that add about three inches to your height so that you’ll appear taller in court to make yourself seem like a bigger presence, as well as assert your previously mentioned confidence in this case and your stance in it. The binder you carry is smaller in size, but heavier than expected meaning you probably have a tablet, maybe an IPad, in there for any paper you don’t actually need a physical copy of, which tells me you’re environmentally conscious, or you’re trying to be. Because you also had a plastic water bottle in your purse which means that you knew you had a long day today, but probably also had a long day and or night yesterday since your prep towards yourself was minimal—shall I keep going?”

Y/N was looking at him with that look he simply could not figure out. “If you want Spencer. I’m quite enjoying it.”

He licked his lips before nodding at the coffee cup on the table. “You’re exhausted. I can tell since you’re no longer wearing your shoes, and your hair is now up. You probably work better with your hair up, which stems from the fact that you danced as a child. Hair up means getting to work. You’re also exhausted since you needed espresso. That cup says you’re drinking four shots of espresso in your latte. But it’s probably because you’ve put a lot of thought and time into this case. Which is good for your clients since they need someone who is compassionate and empathizes—” Spencer stopped short. His realization did not go unnoticed by her.

“Did you figure something out, Doctor Reid?”

“You…..Was it….?”

“No.” She sighed before reaching across the table and putting her hand on top of Reid’s clasped ones. His entire body was immediately filled with static.

“No Spencer. But maybe that’s enough profiling for the day, yeah?”

Spencer nodded before darting his eyes around the library.

“Would you, uh, maybe want to go get lunch, um, with me?”

Y/N smiled at him and nodded. “I would love nothing more, Doctor. Shall we?”

Spencer nodded and stood up, watching as she quickly, yet efficiently packed away her laptop, the binder and the rest of her things. She stood up, grabbed all three of the books, her bag, and her coffee.

“At least let me carry one of those books y/n–”

“Spencer, thank you, but I got this. Remember? Strong, confident woman here.” She teased him before walking over and dropping them off at the librarians desk. Reid followed behind her, still trying to fully decode the woman he once knew everything about.

“Want to take the stairs? I have this irrational fear that I’ll get stuck or die in an elevator, or both.” she mused looking at Spencer.

“As someone who has gotten stuck in an elevator, I have to agree. Did you know that according to the National Elevator Industry, there are approximately 27 recorded elevator-related deaths a year, with over 10,000 related injuries?”

Y/N paused before she opened the door to the stairwell. Spencer thought she was going to cancel the lunch. He had spewed before they even made it out of the building. But instead, she laughed a little bit.

“There’s a National Elevator Industry Company?” Out of all the things to come out of her mouth, that was not what he had expected.

“Well, yes. They’re technically the National Elevator Industry Incorporated, but yeah.”

She made a sound surprise before nodding and heading into the stairwell. “Well I’m glad we’re not volunteering to be victims 28 and 29 then.”

Spencer smiled again, and let out a laugh of agreement.  

“I did want to ask you about that sweater vest though. It’s quite....something Spencer...”

______________________________________________________________

By the time the two had reached the main doors to the outside, both were giggling incessantly as Reid recalled the time he got stuck in an elevator with his coworker, Derek. Y/N paused their conversation to say a quick goodbye to the security guards working.

“You know all of their names?” Spencer was slightly astonished, knowing how quick the turnaround was for a job like that, barely even considering the sheer amount of security guards.

“It’s important to thank them since they have to stand there and deal with every single person who comes in or out of the Court. Might as well try to make their day a little better. Besides..” She opened the door for Reid to exit through. “When you’re nice, they’re a little more lenient about…oh I don’t know…plastic water bottles and other things that you’re not technically allowed to bring into a courthouse.”

Spencer smiled at her as they walked down the steps. “And you called me a rule breaker.”

“Well Pretty Boy, I can’t follow all the rules, what fun would that be?” Spencer became flustered as she smiled politely and waved to some of her colleagues as they finished walking down the steps.

“So Mr. Profiler, where are you taking me to lun–”

“Spence!”

Spencer outwardly rolled his eyes, his face steeling up at the sound of the heels coming towards them. Y/n was now profiling him as he excused himself and turned around to face JJ.

“What.”

“Wow–uh—Spence look, I–”

Spencer huffed in annoyance. “Is there something you want Jennifer?”

JJ gave Y/n an apologetic smile before turning towards Spencer. “Hotch and Strauss need us back at the office. We have to, uh, discuss next steps in case of reassignment.”

Y/n watched as Spencer managed to steel himself up tighter than before. “Yeah. Alright. I’ll meet you all there.”

“Well actually we—”

Spencer tried to cut her off again before Derek decided to interrupt, He had been watching the whole interaction. He moved over to the small group. “Reid, we have to leave now.”

Spencer huffed in annoyance and shot him a look but Serek didn’t notice. He had turned towards Y/n at that point, and turned on that classic Derek Morgan Charm. “Didn’t know Pretty Boy could even associate with such a beautiful woman. The name’s Derek.”

He held out his hand for Y/n to take. And she did, shaking it twice before retreating her hand.

Spencer turned to you, with the hint of a devious smile, and nodded in Derek’s direction. “That’s the Derek.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up with amusement, before turning back to Derek. A smile burst across her face. “Oh my god, Spence. This is him?”

Derek looked at Reid, and then back at Y/n, and then back at Reid. “Reid, what is she talking about…”

Spencer just shrugged before turning his back completely to JJ, who seemed more upset by the second at Spencer’s distantness than at Morgan’s blatant attempt to charm his way into Y/n’s heart.

“Yes! Doctor Reid here was just telling me about your adventures on the BAU.”

Derek smiled and nodded at Spencer. “All good things I hope.”

“Oh absolutely. It’s an honor to meet the person who got stuck in an elevator and freaked the fuck out with Spencer all those years ago.”

Derek’s jaw hit the floor, and JJ was pretty speechless herself. Spencer had the smirk of a lifetime written all over his face. Y/n took the opportunity to walk over, and give Spencer a quick kiss on the cheek.

“You still owe me lunch sometime, Doctor Reid.” She winked at him before pulling out her ringing phone, and answering.

Spencer, JJ, and Derek watched her walk away.

“Who the hell was that?” Derek eventually managed out before looking at Reid with a mixture of awe and proudness across his face.

“My former ‘girl next door’.” Spencer smiled, before walking off towards Hotch, Rossi, Garcia, and Emily, ready to head back to the BAU with a newfound determination. The first was to get this god forsaken meeting over with. And the second was to find out everything he could about Y/F/N, Y/L/N.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid oneshot #Spencer reid scenario #Spencer reid hc #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid fluff #speaker reid blurb #x reader #criminal minds #Spencer reid recs #spencer reid drabble #Spencer reid drabbles #Spencer reid one-shot #my first fic #ahh! #I hope y'all like it!

[ratboyy-withtheexistentialdread]

Nevermore Chapter 97

Spoilers ahead, lads. Skedaddle if you don't fast pass. EDIT I guess I’ve said too much in this post and need to pull it back a little. So imma gonna edit it so it doesn’t say too much about this chapter.

Alright, first my reaction cause HOLY HELL those last few panels really got me like

I really had to put my phone down and talk myself through them. Now, lets talk about what I gained from this chapter and the infamous Annabel Lee. I've noticed, at least in the comment section, the fandom really doesn't care for Annabel's character and its difficult to know where the animosity has come from. Tumblr obviously loves her but us heathens support women's rights and wrongs (Don't we gents?) Many call her a sociopath or what’s happens in the last few panels. Annabel is indeed ruthless, calculating and stone cold but she obviously cares. She cares for Lenore above everything. It can be easy to see this as obsession as we really haven't seen her care about much else or even herself. But one comment on the Webtoon brought up a very valid point which I've also picked up on.

Annabel and Lenore in life were very isolated and broken people when they met one another. Annabel, broken and then rebuilt into a prim and proper lady. Lenore, broken physically and mentally and closed off from the world.

Meeting each other saved them. They were no longer alone. There was an understanding between them at least that we know of.

Their differences though is what divides them in death.

Annabel played games, and masked her true self around her father and family connections. She now makes games of situations to retain what little control she had in life over a society she knew she could never break the rules of. A Game that was always rigged against her.

Lenore rebelled against society. She fled the estate to escape a suitor, was bound to the attic and ostracized by her family, she then faked her death and posed as man to court Annabel, the one person who cared for her.

Lenore wants to break the rules of the deans Death Game. Annabel wants to follow them.

It’s all they’ve ever known.

Before it was only them that mattered. Now Lenore has so much more to fight for and Annabel still only has Lenore. Both are right in their own way of playing the game but it pains the other to witness.

Annabel, I’m sure is aware that the Deans are not all they seem to be and won’t simply allow the students to turn the tables on them if they played how Lenore wants to.

And playing Annabel’s way means the callous death of many many people that do deserve another chance at life.

Now. I do have to agree with Annabel in the sense that Lenore forgets

This is a Death Game

Right now the “villainous” characters show their true face with pride and the “hero’s” are charming and true but as we get down to the wire, it’s going to get grey. There are no good or bad at the end of these games, only survival.

Could Annabel show some restraint and more tact when speaking strategy and making plans with Lenore? Absolutely. She’s little too giddy about sweeping some pieces off the board.

Lenore also needs to stop being so naive. She saw first hand what exactly the Deans are capable of in Dreamland, it put the fear of god in her.

In fairness to both characters though they and we are still missing big pieces of what happened between them and what their causes of death were. Which could hold big aspects of their characterization.

Maybe Lenore was originally very callous about others. In life, aside from Theo and Annabel, we’ve never really seen her interact with others. Perhaps this is the Lenore Annabel speaks of.

Anyway, I’m rambling. In conclusion, I’m a bit disappointed in Nevermores comment section. I enjoy Annabel’s character although some parts do worry me a bit but I have hope Red and Flynn have plans to curve this to a satisfying reason and conclusion.

That cliffhanger, boy howdy, what the fuck is Lenore gonna do…

#nevermore webtoon #lenore vandernacht #annabel lee whitlock #white raven #duke #Pluto #nevermore webcomic #nevermore WEBTOON spoilers

[uwurakax]

-> HQ AS TAYLOR SWIFT LYRICS +

summary just the vibes of t.swift songs/lyrics and who (i think) match with the haikyuu guys ♡

-> i srsly missed them sm omg, clownin (also im rusty pls cri), maybe one day we'll write more on t.s songs bc dang she's killin it rn

(also edit bc i just came back to check this again before posting but, i thought it was fitting bc ya girl got eras tour tickets!)

(( edit two - you can see from above when i started working on this, came back and came back again rn, bc sis is making friendship bracelets rn for next month aa! and i got inspired by this lol - i also just have impeccable taste ))

featuring kageyama || oikawa || akaashi || kenma || atsumu ♡

+ i got other stuff ready to post promise, i just needed this out there +

KING OF MY HEART

"and we rule the kingdom inside my room, 'cause all the boys and their expensive cars... never took me quite where you do and all at once you are the one i have been waiting for, king of my heart, body and soul"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

it's not easy moving on. you'd been scorned before, and had your heart broken. it wasn't a secret to know you'd been on guard, had your heart under lock and key. created a tall, ivory tower that you made sure no one else would think of scaling. that was before you mer him. it was implausibly easy. how everything fell into place when you were just within his vicinity. maybe being hurt wasn't so bad, because if you didn't face them, they wouldn't have led you to him, here and now. he wasn't just the king of the court anymore, another invisible crown bestowed onto him as he climbed; holding the key to you.

- kageyama ♡

LOVER

"i take this magnetic force of a man to be my... my hearts been borrowed and yours has been blue, alls well that ends well to end up with you, swear to be overdramatic and true to my... lover"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you knew he was a star, anyone with eyes could see. he was destined for great things, and you were a planet following, orbiting around his sun. you'd always follow, for as long as he wanted. your greatest pleasure though was with the mundane. you'd take the stardom, the fame... but you lived for the monotonous. where it was just you and him. you hoped it would last forever. hand in hand, nothing would stop you. whether it was cheering for him on the sidelines, or laying beside him at night, you'd love him for eternity.

- oikawa ♡

GORGEOUS

"ocean blue eyes, looking in mine, i feel like i might sink and drown and die, you're so gorgeous i can't say anything to your face, cause look at your face; gorgeous"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

starstruck, awestruck, wonderstruck. any and every 'struck' you could think of, and thats the feelings that grew the moment you locked eyes on him. it was such a cliche, a crowded room with a bunch of other bodies, and yet you seemed to naturally gravitate towards him. love at first sight. a concept so wildly unbelievable and yet so captivating, that the most famous love story revolved around it. yet here you were, stunned into silence, because this was what you were experiencing now. completely out of your comfort zone, never had anyone ever made you feel like this before; but what could you say? he's gorgeous.

- akaashi ♡

YOU BELONG WITH ME

"i'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're about to cry, i know your favourite songs and you tell me about your dreams, think i know where you belong, think i know it's with me"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

it's not easy being in love with your best friend. you knew practically everything about him. so why was he with her when you were always in his corner from the beginning? the late night gaming sessions and text messages. she just wasn't good for him. she didn't understand him like you did, and his calls and conversations all but proved how much better you could be for him. so why? you didn't need to ponder long, because soon enough he was at your doorstep late into the night, confessing how it was a mistake, how he ended things with her and if he could come inside to talk.

- kenma ♡

CRUEL SUMMER

"and i snuck in through the garden gate, every night that summer just to seal my fate, and i scream for whatever it's worth 'i love you! aint that the worst thing you ever heard?' he looks up grinning like a devil"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you had heard about him. heard about how he wasn't good enough for you, and that you shouldn't get involved. you never were a good listener, and soon enough you became involved with him. despite the little voice in your head telling you to let go, you couldn't. it wasn't supposed to be forever, and you were okay with that. initially anyway. catching feelings for something that would end in disaster... but you couldn't end it. not yet. just how deep did you dive into whatever this was? you couldn't pinpoint when it went south, but did that matter? you were too far gone. the anticipation grew the longer this lasted, and in a bout of stress, you blurted out your confession. not your finest moment, and you were sure he'd shun you for good. turn his back on you and walk away, leaving you to mend your broken heart. he didn't though. he just stood there, with his stupid smirk that made you fall for him to begin with, confessing the same words you all but screamed at him moments ago.

- atsumu ♡

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq!! x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #kageyama x you #kageyama x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #kenma x reader #kenma x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabbles #hq imagines #hq drabble #you can even tell its older bc its black for my previous theme lolol

[readychilledwine]

Eris Week Day 4 Hounds | Autumn Equinox

Moth to a Pyre - Nsfw

A/n- I, uh, I don't know what happened here. There's a plot. For a little while. Then there's not. Happy day four of @erisweek2023 ?

Summary - The reader is visiting the Autumn Court during their yearly Equinox celebration on an invitation from Eris. Between discussing traditions from their courts and watching the young fae, she doesn't fully grasp she's about to enter another Autumn Court Tradition.

Warnings - NSFW, mxfxfxm, orgy, voyeuristic/exhibitionist elements, oral (females receiving), fxf play, dom/sub dynamics **accidentally posted before my last edit run through. Sorry fam😅**

Word Count - 2651

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

Eris could hardly take his eyes off of you. Between the magic of the court beginning to fuel males for the hunt, your bright smile as you watched children running around the carnival, and the burgundy dress clinging to your body, you were irresistible to him. 

You were too distracted by the smells of warm pastries, the laughter as the faelings bobbed for apples, and the speed they ran in their little costumes with to go from tent to tent collecting candy to notice the shift in Eris's behavior.

Kallias had tried to warn you to come back to Winter or be in your guest suite before the carnival began. He had tried to tell you this was a giant sex orgy, that if you were outside an Autumn Court male could claim you for the night as his prize, and you'd be forced to join in the mass sex ritual held in Autumn for their equinox celebration. "It's similar to Spring's," You could hear his cold voice in your mind now. "The only difference is Spring uses their Equinox to replenish the magic and allow the harvest cycle to begin, Autumn uses theirs to thank the land for its magic and for successful harvest." 

This felt nothing like that, though. Eris was holding your hand, leading you through row after row of vendors with candies you'd never tried before and odd food that was traditional to the Court. "Are you enjoying yourself?" Eris looked down at you with a slight smile. "I imagine Winter has nothing like this."

You nodded. "I am. Thank you for inviting me." Eris smirked slightly at you as ypu ducked behind him to avoid a group of little ones running by. "What are they doing?"

"Trick or treating?" Eris rose a brow. "You have no clue what trick or treating is. So, the children dress up for Equinox each year and run from vendor to vendor, or door to door in the villages. The owners of that home or shop then have to present them with candy or risk being pranked. Do children not trick or treat in Winter?"

"No. Children try to be on their best behavior in the Winter Court. Asking for free candy and pranking fae does not fall into that category," you played with your long white hair. Eris had his brows raised, nodding for you to continue. You felt a blush rising to your cheeks under his heated gaze. "There's a legend of a male old as time in our court. He watches children and ensures they are on their best behavior all year, that they follow their mom and dad's rules, and honor their high lord. If they do, he rewards them with candy and presents on solstice. If they don't, he adds them to a list and takes them from their homes in the dead of night, never to be seen again. It is believed he eats them."

Eris stared at you, his eyes wide, before bursting into laughter. "That's horrid, y/n." You couldn't help but to smile and nod as Eris pulled you to a more vacant bonfire.

Males and females were gathered around countless fires in this clearing. Holding each other close, laying on blankets together, whispering to each other. Eris moved a hand to tuck the hair you had been playing with behind your ear. 

You had not noticed how quiet it had gone, you had not noticed that the children were starting to run home and some vendors were closing shop and clearing out. You were too busy staring at Eris as he talked with one of his friends. 

You had gathered the male he was speaking with was one of the generals in his father's army, you had also gathered the intentions this male had with the pretty female sitting on his lap. He was stroking her upper thigh, squeezing it every so often while she kissed his jaw and throat.

"Relax, little moth," Eris Whispered into your ear. "You don't have to do anything you do not want to." You blinked at him as he pulled you closer. "Kal warned you, didn't he?" You nodded. "Good. The hunt will start soon."

"What happens during the hunt?" Eris kissed below your ear, causing a haze to set in as you relaxed and sighed. 

"My father will shift into something different and more animalistic. He will go through the forest to find his fawn for the night and bring her here. They begin coupling we all will as well. It helps us thank the land and keeps the population of Autumn higher than other courts."

"So this is a breeding festival?"

"Yes, little moth, it is." You watched as his friend smirked, repositioning the pretty female in his lap so she was straddling him and facing him before kissing her deeply. "And we can just watch them all if you'd like, we can partake if you'd like, or I can winnow you to the Forest House and find myself a new little moth to play with. It is all your choice." 

His warm hands had begun to roam your body. Kal had allowed you to commission a special dress for this visit. The short sleeved dress was made with the latest Autumn fashion in mind, but it was allowing Eris access to skin you had not had touched in years. "It's all your choice, y/n. Say the words and I'll stop and take you somewhere safe." 

He pulled you into his lap, and you studied him. "You invited me here on purpose." He nodded. "You had this all planned." He nodded again, moving to kiss your neck as your hand tangled into his wavy hair. "Why? Why me?"

He smirked against your smirk and his friend answered. "Do you look at yourself when you get dressed and ready for the day, emissary? Or do you just blindly look so delicious?" Eris chuckled against your skin, dragging his teeth along your pulse point making you squirm slightly in his lap.

"Hurry and pick, little moth." He continued kissing your neck, moving lower to your collarbones, making you pull his hair slightly and grind your hips against him with a whimper. "You have limited time, lovely. Father is about to go hunt, and the females wanting to bed him tend to make this pretty easy."

"Where is your mother? Should she-" Eris tapped a finger to your lips. Stopping thr question. 

"Your questions later. Mine now. Do you want to stay?" You were in a mental haze, watching as countless males and females kissed. There were two females being watched by the males with them. They were already naked and kissing each other as their hands roamed. You felt Eris move lifting you to turn you in his lap so you were able to watch all the fires. "Who would have known Kallias had a little voyeur in his chain of command." His voice had gone deep and raspy in your ear, you could scent Eris's arousal as he continued touching you.

"I want to stay." You finally whispered. You watched as Beron came back, a pretty little Burnette was thrown over his shoulder giggling as high lord set her down on the ground and forced her to her knees. Warm hands moved your hair and began unlacing your dress. 

"Stand for me." All eyes had locked on you and Eris as the High Lord began his coupling with the young female. "They're waiting for us and my brothers, little moth." 

It made sense now. The groupings of fires. A Vanserra male was at each other, watching her and Eris with feline like smirks of anticipation. You stood and allowed him to undress ypu. "Good girl. Such an obedient good girl," Eris ran his hand down the front of your body, squeezing your breasts as he nodded at his brothers. "I can smell you, y/n. I've been waiting forever to play with you." He pulled you back down, ripping his own shirt off. He kept your back to him and began pinching and playing your nipples as he kissed your neck and shoulders.

Heat was pooling between your legs, practically dripping from you. You were fixated on the fires before you. Watching females play with each other or with the males they were with. There were groups of people all partaking in the carnal games. 

Soft hands roamed up your thighs and you looked down to see the female his friend had been playing with between your legs. Eris's friend was watching as Eris spread your legs for her. "She's so pretty, Eris." 

You were blushing as she began kissing your thighs, her long dark hair pulled into a ponytail as she looked up at you from her long dark lashes. "Keep watching the other fires, little moth." She placed a light kiss above your core. 

You obeyed, finding your eyes lingering on two males with a female pinned between them. She had her head thrown back on one of their shoulders as they pounded into her like well timed machines. And then you felt it. A tongue licked a long pathway in your folds causing you to moan and lean further back into Eris. "Fuck," the males whispered as Eris's grip on your legs tightened. "Keep those pretty thighs spread for her, y/n." 

You hand found her hair as she began kitten licking your leaking hole. She hummed against you before latching onto your clit and sucking lightly. Pleasure shot through your body, causing you to grind against her mouth, and in turn Eris. "Use her, pretty girl," Eris encouraged with a moan. "She loves being a little toy." The female moaned at Eris's praise, causing vibration to hit your core and you to moan out as she alternated between gentle swipes with the tip of her tongue and longer flat ones with more pressure. 

You looked at Eris over your shoulder, eyes wide with lust before grinding on him again. "I need your clothes off," you whispered. "I need you."

She pulled off of you long enough for Eris to lay you on the ground for her. "Make her cum." He commanded. "I want her soaked before I even get inside of her."

She doubled her efforts on your clit, only pausing as Eris's friend came behind her and began to play with her. The noises coming from you two were obscene. The sounds of her wetness, the sounds of your moans ringing into the night and hers muffled in your cunt. Eris was still sitting near you, his hand wrapped around himself as he watched you. 

He was beautiful. You knew that since you two had become friends years ago. You reached a hand to him and he laced your fingers together just as his friend pushed one of her fingers into your heat making your back arch and you cried out as she began to press into that perfect hidden spot while sucking and licking at your clit. 

Eris smirked as your eyes rolled back. "Such a good little moth, aren't you?" His hands found your breasts again, squeezing them. A coil was tightening in your stomach, threatening to burst as your moans became constant. Her mouth was like magic, finding every sensitive nerve as her fingers pushed and pulled you apart. 

Eris could tell you were close, as was the female pleasuring you. Her mate had two fingers buried deep into her cunt, curling them perfectly into time with her pleasuring you. He knew it wasn't the dirtiest thing that would happen tonight between you four, and the thought of you, wrapped around his cock, while another fae played with you and joined in your corruption had Eris aching for relief. 

Your eyes met his, and you couldn't place what he was thinking, but you were too lost in the haze of the ritual. One more harsh suck on your clit had you falling apart, moaning loudly and whimpering as she slowed down to allow you to ride out your high. 

Eris gently pulled you away from her, kissing your neck and running his hands along every curve. "How do you want to do this, y/n?" He bit into your pulse point, shooting pleasure and pain through your body. "Do you want to take me from behind and be on top of her so you two can still play with each other?" You and the female whimpered. "Do you just want to watch her get fucked by both of us?" You shook your head quickly. "Do you want me to fuck you, little moth?" 

"Please," you whispered desperately. "I need you." Eris kissed below your ear, long fingers gently circling the swollen bundle of nerves. "Eris, please."

"You can beg prettier than that, y/n," his voice set you alight, eyes rolling back as you leaned heavier against him. You two were watching now as his friend entered the female laying on her back near you. "I want you to get on top of her with your pretty little cunt near me. Do you understand?" You nodded eagerly. 

She was too pretty for you to say no to him over. Long thick hair, long lashes, wide brown eyes. Her body was stunning. She had more curves than most fae females, but they landed in all the right places on her body, and her waist had you drooling and wondering how much tighter your corsets would need to be to achieve the same look. 

She shamelessly pulled you to her just as Eris' friend had entered her. Your legs were straddling her head, your head was near her core, and without warning, you let out a loud whine as Eris entered you. 

"Fucking better than I ever imagined, little moth." Eris wasted no time, he began fucking you with deep, hard thrusts. You were quickly a mess. The situation from watching countless fae deep into their pleasure, the situation from the moaning female below you, the situation from each heavy drag of his cock inside of you.

It didn't take long for you to understand why they had you two in this position, nor did it take you long to realize this was clearly something the three of them had done before. She latched on to your clit again, sucking it gently and rolling her tongue against it. The constant vibrations of her mouth against your aching core had your head reeling. 

Her partner gently gathered your hair, "Return the favor, little emissary." And you did. 

Eris growled loudly behind you at the sight. You responded with a twitch that had him pounding harder and deeper into you, hitting that perfect spot every time. You were all moaning messes, heart rates beating together. Your ears still picked up the screams, growls, and groans from the other fae around you. 

That coil tightened again, and you knew Eris had picked up on it. He began aiming for the spot that had you moaning deeper into his friend's cunt. You two both reacted to each other's picked up moans and screams. 

You didn't fall from the edge this time. You exploded from it. Your vision filled with stars and color as you came with a muffled scream. She followed behind you, her hands gripping your thighs tightly. 

It was seconds later for both of the males to find the edge and dive over. Eris's groans relit the fire burning inside of you as his large hands bruised your hips. 

When you all came down from the high, he removed himself from you and pulled you off of her, sitting back down on the ground with you between his legs and your back locked tight against him.

His fingers began to roam. Exploring your sides, your breasts, and your stomach. It wasn't until they dipped lower and began teasing your core that you realized you were in for a very long night. 

[otherworldly-tresses]

Fae x Reader

The Will Of Your Master

Summary: You are sent to seduce a Fae of the Summer Court at the will of your master.

Tags: monsterfucking, some mild elements of dubcon, royalty

Notes:

-Words used include: whore, slut

-Reader has breasts and a vagina, PIV sex involved

-Faeries in this setting are more insectoid and are usually very tall (about 6 and a half feet for the nobility). They have varieties of insectoid body parts, varying per individual (some have claspers, others have extra limbs, spare eyes, etc.)

-Sorry if this is not very well-edited, it's been a while since I've written/edited anything and self-editing my own work is a bit of a sore spot for reasons

-This might be a multi-parter (MIGHT)

-I'll probably edit this when I'm more awake

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

The sweet scent of fae food and ethereal perfumes float through the air. The sounds of soft music and crystal drinking glasses echo across all the attendants of the ball. Laughter, singing, and casual conversation punctuates the air as Fae of all shapes, courts, and sizes dance to the live music, played from crystal instruments with no visible musicians. Only very few humans are in this party, all of whom are pets and servants of the Fae, taken for whatever reason.

You were one of them, taken from the mortal world a year ago. Any other person would have been horrified, begging for a way home. But why wouldn’t you want to live here? Your old life was miserable, marred by things outside of your control. At least here, your master afforded you some level of freedom, though the rules of the fae often eluded you.

Your Master, a tall Lord of the Winter Court was busy chatting up three specters, fae creatures that skulked about in cloaks and ominous, icy winds. By the time the night was over, they would have three more powerful allies for their inscrutable needs. They didn’t have time for you right now. But that was all right. You had a job to do for tonight, given to you a night before. You knew exactly who to approach, and what to do to them.

You weave through the crowd, casually plucking up a glass of clear wine from a passing server. Your target, Lord Lumentia of the Summer Court is fairly visible through the colors, being tall even for the Fae. He is dressed in a dizzying display of red, orange, and brown, his exquisitely pattened clothing mirroring his large, mothlike wings. He was speaking to several envoys of the Summer Court, all dressed in bright yellow, listening with rapt attention. He had always been described as a person who knew how to keep a kind, faint smile, though that smile was very easily ripped off to betray baser instincts and truer emotions.

It wouldn’t do for you to interrupt a Fae Lord’s conversation. You had to get his attention some other way. You look left and right. A commotion would cause too much of a disturbance, and unfortunately, none of the Fae around you owed you favors.

A soft voice, like spider’s silk, makes its way to your ears from behind you. “Hello, darling human. May I have this dance?”

You turn around, slightly surprised that anyone was able to sneak up on you. A stark white Winter Court Fae with eight red eyes towers over you, even taller than Master Orellia, their thin, spindly fingers reaching out to caress your face. You manage to keep your composure, curtsying before them as their thin fingers barely graze your skin. None of the other Fae around you notice, too busy with their own affairs.

You gauge your options. Even if you refused, the Fae have their ways of roping you into their will, if you weren’t careful. On the other hand, you could use this dance to your advantage somehow, if this individual was in a good mood.

You put on a smile and take the fae’s hand. Their smile widens, and you are taken into a dance. You waltz with this creature, following their overlong steps as well as you can. They ease into the rhythm of the music, their motions eerily spiderlike and silent as they follow you with pure-black eyes.

They lift your arm and you pirouette. For a moment, you spot Lord Lumentia, watching you through six eyes, the three faceless Summer Court fae also following you with their faces. Several other fae were also watching you with curiosity, some people whispering behind their hands.

You return to your dance partner. They take your hands and pull you close, bending over so that the two of you face to face. Their red eyes eyes gaze into yours, a cold, biting pressure emanating from them.

You feel the noise from around you fade away. You only have a split second of realization that you let your guard down and got charmed, before your own thoughts are subsumed by a feeling of icy dread, creeping up your senses. You cannot even break your gaze to check if the ice is real. Your entire body is rooted to the spot. You feel the silk of spiders start to wrap you in their web.

A clear voice cuts through the fog, a sunbeam through a cloud. “That’s enough for now.”

You suddenly feel your thoughts return to you and inhale sharply, realizing that you hadn’t taken a breath. You feel a warm presence next to you, like the sun. Someone puts ahand on your back, and you realize that it is Lord Lumentia, standing at your side and looking at your dance partner. He has a faint smile on his face.

“It would not do well for you to charm someone else’s subjects, Ievis.”

“Chancellor Ievis,” the pale figure hissed.

“Apologies, Chancellor.” Lord Lumentia’s smile widened, but you sense steel behind it. “I should not have forgotten your station. But imagine the harm it would do to yours if you were caught overstepping your boundaries.”

The Summer Fae waved a hand. Most of the other fae were busy with the party, but quite a few were staring at Chancellor Indalor, some with suspicion, others with disappointment.

“Now, I do not want to get in the way of your enjoyment.” Lord Lumentia continued, nodding in a farce of politeness. “There is still much time left in the night, and I have to ensure that our little friend here--” You feel his hand at your back push into you, “is unharmed.”

Chancellor Ievis watches for a moment as Lord Lumentia leads you, hand on your back, through the crowd. Normally, Lord Lumentia would be important enough for people to be jumping out of his path, but he seems to be employing some kind of spell to minimize being noticed. He gives you a quick smile as you walk, but you can sense a calculating aura from behind his golden eyes.

He leads you through the crowd to the doors leading to the balcony. They were only slightly ajar, but large enough that both Lord Lumentia and you could walk to the outside without brushing the doors. The moment you step out, the doors shut silently. Lord Lumentia’s pace quickens, and you struggle to keep up lest his hand topples you over. He leads you to the right side of the door, to the stone brick walls, well out of earshot.

“Thank you, Lord Lumentia,” you say.

The hand behind you withdraws. You look up at Lord Lumentia, his smile already gone. He regards you suspiciously, gazing down at you from his height.

“Well, well. Orellia’s pet has come to play.” His once warm tone is gone, to be replaced with something steely, but still smooth and regal. “I know they sent you for something. Those of the Winter Court never seem to be able to hold a proper conversation with us without all the scheming.”

You remain composed, and curtsy, just as you had practiced hundreds of times. “Congratulations, sire. You are correct.”

Lord Lumentia’s six eyes narrow. He steps closer and bends down, regarding you closely. After a moment, he huffs. “If he had wanted me dead, he should have sent someone fitter. A killer. You’re no killer. You don’t have the movements of one.”

“Not at all,” you respond. “I am not here to kill you. I am here to deliver Lord Orellia’s most genial regards, and an invitation.”

Lord Lumentia’s eyes narrow further. He tilts his head slowly, an owl getting the measure of a mouse. “A Summer Lord? Invited to the home of a Winter Fae? In what world would that not be an assassination attempt?”

“Lord Orellia had 9 months to kill you. And he didn’t. I assure you, they have no reason to cause you harm.” You look back into his eyes. “All he wants, my lord, is a discussion.”

Lord Lumentia chuckled.

“And he sent you to seduce me into it.”

You don’t respond. Lord Lumentia smiles a wry smile.

“It sounds like Orellia has their ear to the rumor mill. And you definitely are dressed for the occasion.” His six eyes rake over you, your blue-white dress, the thin cords only barely keeping the fabric from flying into the wind. “And what makes you think you can convince me into running headfirst towards danger?”

He lays a hand against your face, caressing it experimentally. You grasp it gently, holding his hand to your cool cheek.

“I assure you, my lord, you will be cared for as a proper guest in his realm.” As you speak, you move his hand towards your lips, so that the corners barely brush against his fingers. You sense the slightest hint of tension in his hand.

“A proper guest? How unlikely. The rest of the Winter court would surely disapprove.” He steps closer to you. You hear his wings rustling behind him.

“Which is why this will never go out to the rest of the Winter court. You could be in and out, and they would never know.” You briefly brush your lips over his fingers, and lay his hand against your cheek again. Lord Lumentia exhales as you do so. He leans forward again, your faces only inches away from each other.

You maintain eye contact and gently press your lips to each of his fingers. He watches you, a hunger flickering to life behind his gaze. You kiss his middle finger, letting your tongue linger on his warm skin for a moment. You hear a small groan emanate from his throat.

You slowly pepper his hand in more kisses, slow and sweet. You feel his breath quicken as you do so. You let your hand brush against his back, and his wings rustle.

“Have you thought about it, my lord?” you ask quietly.

Suddenly, Lord Lumentia lunges forward and pins you to the wall, lifting you up so that your toes brush the ground. He kisses you deeply, his composure shattering like glass. You kiss him back, slowly, tasting sap and wine and dust on his lips.

He groans in approval and kisses you again, elegance making way for urgency. His fingers no longer dance across your skin, but grasp your skin through your clothes, feeling you, but savoring the treat for as long as it lasts.

Your lips part, and Lord Lumentia puts you down. He still pins you to the wall. His six eyes burn with hunger, and his breath has already grown heavy.

“Not bad for Orellia’s whore,” he murmurs.

“Thank you, my lord,” you respond.

Before you can respond, he turns you around and pushes you into the wall. He kisses your neck, pressing against your body. His long hands reach into your bust. Long, warm fingers caress your skin, teasing your breasts and pressing your nipples. You can tell that he is not casting any spell, but you can feel warmth welling up inside of you. You push your hips against his crotch, grinding against him. You can already feel him getting hard under his clothes.

“It’s a shame I can’t tear this dress off you. Orellia could definitely afford another one.” You feel one of his hands rest against your leg, past the slit of your dress. He caresses you firmly, pressing against your tense thighs. He coyly avoids the inside of your legs, choosing instead to rub your leg up and down. This, combined with the attention given to your nipples, is almost enough to make you lose control of your legs.

“My lord,” you manage to gasp, in just the way that would pique his interest the most.

“Hush, little one. They might hear.” His light fingers inch closer and closer to the inside of your thigh, but nowhere near where they were needed the most. You grind against his crotch again, and he inhales, suddenly grabbing your breast firmly. You yelp, but try to immediately muffle the sound.

Lord Lumentia definitely heard you. His fingers glide over to your sex, already wet under the sheer fabrics of your dress. His warm fingertip lands on your lips and you shudder, grinding again on his cock. He strokes your labia, relishing in the muffled sounds he coaxes out of your mouth. His touch is warm, firm, but betrays a barely-concealed hunger in the way he twitches and tenses every time you squirm and moan.

“No wonder he sent you. You can’t wait to have one of the Lords inside your cunt.” Lord Lumentia makes his way to your clit, and fingers it. His touch wrenches a small moan from you. He fingers it again, and you writhe, whimpering.

“Whore.”

He inserts a finger inside of you, pressing against your walls. You instinctively jerk your hips towards him, pushing his finger deeper, another desperate moan escaping your lips.

He continues fucking you with his finger, then two, then three. Your body seems to respond on its own, jerking and bucking. Your soft whimpers and moans grow slightly louder, and your legs begin to weaken, anticipating Lord Lumentia’s cock inside of you. He is already very hard through his clothes, and you feel his hunger through the breaths he lays against your ear.

And then you feel it. Your dress is pulled up over your hips, and you feel Lord Lumentia’s throbbing cock against your sex. He slides it up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices. You whimper, thoughts already scrambled with a basal need for release.

He presses the thick head against your opening, and your knees almost buckle from the sensation. His warm breath tickles your ear.

“Beg for it,” he mutters, rubbing his cock against you, just barely pushing it inside.

“My lord… please…” you manage to sputter, through a whimper.

“Please, what?” He stops moving.

“Please don’t stop-- I need you inside me--” Was he casting a spell over you, or were your thoughts falling apart as you stood?

“Keep going. I want to hear you beg,” he murmurs, his once silky voice now a low, animalistic growl.

“My lord, please, I need you, please fuck me-”

“You can do better than that.”

“Please my lord, I need you inside of me--”

“Try again.”

“My lord, please--”

Your voice is cut off by a moan as he pushes his thick cock inside of you.

He thrusts once, forcefully, almost sending you to your knees. You manage to keep standing, legs shivering from cold and the effort required to keep you upright.

You barely have a moment to keep your thoughts together before he starts thrusting. His moans blend into the night wind, dissolving into the breeze like dust. Your moans get inelegantly loud; if anyone were to walk into the balcony, they would definitely hear. But that was not unexpected; the fae loved to have a taste of mortal flesh, when they could have it. Your fingernails fruitlessly scramble against the stone brick as he continues thrusting into you.

And you were here to weaponize that desire.

“Good little Winter slut,” he grunts. “Doing exactly as your master tells you. Do you like your reward?”

“My reward- comes from my master alone,” you manage to say.

“Oh, unsatisfied with this? Do you think they could do better?” he pants. “I’m sure you enjoy their frigid cock in you, fucking you until you can see no more.”

Before you can respond, he grabs your hips and thrusts faster, slapping your flesh, overloading your senses. You see stars as he fucks you, and you can no longer control your voice as he goes faster, moaning and grunting.

The tension in your body grows tighter and tighter, almost too much to bear, and you can feel Lord Lumentia losing control as well, his voice growing strained and his wings twitching. You take a moment to look at him, and he looks almost transformed with lust, nearing his climax. He sees you peeking, and his eyes flutter.

“You want to watch me? Watch me as I cum? Don’t take your eyes off me. Don’t you dare. Don’t you-”

And your body clenches, your walls squeezing around Lord Lumentia’s cock. The tension overflows, and you release, a ragged moan falling from your throat as your mind falls apart, and your hips tremble in ecstasy. You feel the Summer Lord twitch and jerk inside you, warm fluid flooding inside of your cunt. You can barely hear his voice as he moans, your own orgasm filling up your senses.

The climax fades, and Lord Lumentia pulls out of you, soaking wet. He turns you around and kisses you, pressing against your shuddering body.

“Well, well,” he whispers against your ear, still pinning you to the wall. His breath is heavy from exertion. “You really are quite the specimen your master managed to capture.”

“Thank you, my lord,” you exhale, brushing your leg against his. Lord Lumentia chuckles.

“You would love another round, wouldn’t you?” Lord Lumentia says, brushing a finger against your lips. “Oh, but look at you, poor thing. You’re exhausted, aren’t you?”

“I’m willing to be with you as many times as you would like, my lord. Or… as many times as it would take for you to answer my master’s call.”

Lord Lumentia laughs, a soft, warm sound that warms you from the inside out. “Tell your master,” he murmurs, putting a hand on your waist, “that I will consider his offer.”

He leans forward and kisses you again, a hungry sound escaping his throat. You can feel his desire rooting itself in your mind, an unconscious act of magic nearly driving all reason from your mind. You kiss him back, your hips beckoning against him for more.

#monster fucking #monsterfucker #monsterfucking #exophilia #monster fucker #monster kink #terato #monster lover #nsft #fae #someone tag that fae fucking blog im too shy to do it #monster x reader #my writing #monster x human

[rumor-weed]

JOHN MULANEY STARTER PROMPTS

Kid Gorgeous Edition.

“He was a man most acquainted with misery.”

“None of that matters, but it's important to me that you know that.”

“He did not look like his job description.”

“He looked like he should be the conductor on a locomotive powered by confetti.”

“But, instead, he made his living in murder.”

“He was the weirdest goddamn person I ever saw in my entire life.”

“He could look at a child and guess the price of their coffin.”

“Shut up! You're all gonna die. Street Smarts!"”

“You remember the scourge of muggings when you were in second and third grade.”

"Man, I need cash for drugs right now.”

“Okay, you can get these at any haberdashery.”

“Buy a money clip. Engraved, question mark?”

“Hey, Dad. Can I have a silver money clip with a $50 bill in it, please?” (Or sub “dad” for character name, if you’re a coward)

“The man with the mustache told me to do it.”

“Let's say a kidnapper throws you in the back of a trunk.”

“You kids have no upper body strength.”

“Yeah, he was not a "spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down" kind of guy.”

“Brush your teeth. Now, boom, orange juice. That's life.”

“Fight the guy off using weird, psych-out, back-room Chicago violence.”

“I chewed up a tab of Alka-Seltzer I carry with me at all times. This created a foaming-at-the-mouth appearance that made it look like I had rabies.”

“Now I've thrown him off his rhythm.”

“Okay. Your odds of coming back alive from the primary location, about 60%. But if you are taken to a secondary location, your odds of coming back alive are slim to none.”

“I am 35 years old and I am still terrified of secondary locations.”

“Nah, sister. You're not getting me to no secondary location.”

“I thought I was going to be murdered my entire childhood.”

“Top three colleges? I thought I would be dead in a trunk with my hand hanging out of the taillight by now.”

“I just got a letter from my college, which was fun 'cause mail, you know?”

“So then I had to speed to Goodwill really fast.”

“It was charitable, but it was also fast and violent.”

“I was throwing boxes at people. The boxes were so heavy I couldn't even say what was in them.”

“This one's shirts. I got a bunch of shirts! Take 'em away!"

“How do I write that on my taxes?”

“My mom said it could be a sleep shirt. Please deduct this from my 2017 income.”

“So rather than violate these meaningless politeness rules, I'll just go to bed in a smock like goddamn Ebenezer Scrooge.”

“I'll tremble off to bed in my long Victorian nightgown.”

“Was there ever even a ghost, Mother, or was the dead Victorian girl you saw just me all along?”

“And that's why you shouldn't give to charity.”

“I found out recently that jokes don't do well in court.”

"Hey, that lawsuit with my neighbor is still dragging on.”

“Hey, do you want me to kill that guy for you? Because it sounds like he sucks and I will totally kill that guy for you.”

“Okay. See you at improv practice.”

“Strange, the passage of time.”

“I'm not that old. I'm 35, that is not old.”

“I never knew about this, but I am now gross.”

#ask memes #John Mulaney #kid gorgeous #RP starters #starter prompts #John Mulaney RP starters #John Mulaney starters #John Mulaney kid gorgeous #alter as needed #if I make another it’ll be the new special #John Mulaney ask memes

[offtorivendell]

The Asteri, the Daglan, and Prythian's Court System

Disclaimer: this is a stupidly massive crack theory that could end up being disastrously wrong. Oh well.

Spoilers: the ACOTAR and CC series to date (I'm halfway through HOFAS right now, slowly plodding along, so nothing beyond that).

Image from ACOSF, Kindle edition.

Buckle up for some more of my nonsense! I think I could have discovered why Prythian's land has the Court and High Lord Systems. This theory still has a couple of wrinkles to iron out, but it's plausible, so I figured I'd share what I've got.

A massive thank you goes to @ladynightcourt3 and @psychologynerd for our chat yesterday morning, which led to this post. I love you guys! 💜

Full warning that this will A) be absolutely cracked, and B) contains Maasverse spoilers, including from HOFAS (up to around 40% I think), but I was mulling over what I'd read so far and this popped into my mind.

Part 1 - The Court System

Bryce made, I think, one hell of an assumption when she said the following in HOFAS:

Vesperus, the only Asteri left on this world, lay dead. - CC HOFAS, chapter 26

@wingedblooms and I have previously theorised that some of the barren regions in Prythian may be so because the death gods were trapped there, drinking the magic of the land, rendering it spent - lifeless - and possibly unable to power up a gateway to an interstellar rift. We both also think it's very interesting that one Elain Archeron was referred to as “a rose bloom in a mud field,” but I digress.

However, in HOFAS, we learnt that there was a Daglan/Asteri, called Vesperus (who considered herself the Evening Star and their god), trapped in a crystal coffin far below the Prison, which was once a land of Dusk.

The female’s long nails scraped along the lid of the coffin. She didn’t look at them as she tested the lid for weaknesses. “I am your god. I am your master. Do you not know me?” - CC HOFAS, chapter 24

It's interesting, no, that the region was named after the Daglan who ruled it? Was this common practice? Because we just so happened to learn, in Feysand’s ACOSF bonus chapter, that there was once an ancient Night Court goddess named Nyx.

You know, their son's namesake? Yikes. 🫣

“You may call me Vesperus.” The creature’s eyes glowed with irritation. “Are you related to Hesperus?” Bryce arched a brow at the name, so similar to one of Midgard’s Asteri. “The Evening Star?” “I am the Evening Star,” Vesperus seethed. - CC HOFAS, chapter 25

Silene, Theia's second daughter, who “escaped into the night,” gave us further information that appeared - to me, at least - to be incomplete. Or perhaps inaccurate? She had been taught by her mother, so she could have been fed certain things as facts. For example, was the land of Prythian really divvied up into seasons and times of day before the Daglan came to town?

The land strengthened. It returned to what it had been before the Daglan’s arrival millennia before. We returned to what we’d been before that time, too, creatures whose very magic was tied to this land. Thus the land’s powers became my mother’s. Dusk, twilight—that’s what the island was in its long-buried heart, what her power bloomed into, the lands rising with it. It was, as she said, as if the island had a soul that now blossomed under her care, nurtured by the court she built here. - CC HOFAS, chapter 19

The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced … those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage. - CC HOFAS, chapter 19

My sister and I grew older. My mother educated us herself, always reminding us that though the Daglan had been vanquished, evil lived on. Evil lurked beneath our very feet, always waiting to devour us. - CC HOFAS, chapter 19

Reading between the lines, I think it's just possible to link the powers of each land with the Daglan who once ruled over them. Perhaps each region - each “precursor” to a modern day Court - had a Daglan/Asteri buried underneath a barren peak, or in a body of water? Is this why the lands have frozen seasons, pools of starlight*, or powers based upon the light of the time of day? Because of a monster buried far, far below the surface?!

*Is there a Daglan entombed in a crystal coffin far below the surface, or is it a cache of firstlight, one that may be refuelled each Calanmai? Or, as @psychologynerd has suggested, is there a Made object of power that will draw Elain to the Spring Court?

Our home had been left empty since we’d vanished. As if the other Fae thought it cursed. So I made it truly cursed. Damned it all. - CC HOFAS, chapter 21

Despite my efforts to hide what this place had once been, a terrible, ancient power hung in the air. It was as my mother had warned us when we were children: evil always lingered, just below us, waiting to snatch us into its jaws. So I went to find another monster to conceal it. - CC HOFAS, chapter 21

I left, wandering the lands for a time, seeing how they had moved on without Theia’s rule. They’d splintered into several territories, and though they were not at war, they were no longer the unified kingdom I had known. - CC HOFAS, chapter 21

As a quick aside, I still suspect that Fionn may have been a Daglan - or similar, perhaps an Under King - who tricked Theia into thinking him a normal faerie and used her to overthrow his peers in order to gain more land for himself. It seems exactly like something a rogue Asteri would do.

Like I suggested earlier, could each region be named for its ruler? Because the names of at least one of the Midgard Asteri was, shall we say, coincidentally similar to the Daglan of Prythian, and others appear to match at least the solar courts.

Solar:

Dawn - Eosphoros

Day - Rigelus

Dusk - Hesperus

Night - Sirius

Seasonal (incomplete/unsure/probably incorrect):

Spring - Austrus?

Summer - Octartis?

Autumn - ?

Winter - Polaris?

As I said, the Midgardian Asteri don't perfectly match up to the seasonal Prythian courts, but it's too close to not consider as a possibility, imo.

Perhaps the lands of Midgard were broken up into solar regions and something else that wasn't seasonal? But given the Vesperus/Hesperus competition... maybe whatever species Asteri and/or Daglan are are strongest when travelling with a full complement of powers? And each "clan" (for lack of a better word) that travelled together had dawn, day, dusk, and night “lights,” as well as spring, summer, autumn and winter lights? Could it weaken them to be without a full cohort of powers? As @ladynightcourt3 said, it would explain why they were so upset about Sirius. Could Rigelus be hoping for a replacement to find them and return them to full strength, and that's why he keeps an empty throne?

Part 2 - The High Lords

No one knew that the infant who sometimes glowed with starlight had inherited it from me. That it was the light of the evening star. The dusk star. - CC HOFAS, chapter 21

An Asteri being buried under each Court could explain the high lord magic as well.The HLs are “a different breed,” per Lucien. Did the Asteri/Daglan need a Starborn Fae who is predisposed to holding, or withstanding, their magic? If this is the case, it would explain why the next in line to inherit the power - or who the magic chooses - isn't always a direct descendant of the previous high lord. Does it pass to the Fae with the strongest Starborn blood? And why the mountain shook when Mor got her first period. There has to be a Daglan/Asteri buried under the Hewn City.

That being said, why is it only men who can inherit the magic, and not women, especially when we now know that high ladies used to exist? Did Theia's betrayal made them distrust females in general, or was it something Seline did? Or is it because the women have the most/purest/strongest, starborn power, so did the men keep them down to use them as “breeding stock” in order to legitimise their rule, similar to what Pelias did with Helena?

Part 3 - Further Thoughts

I still wonder how Hybern and Hel could come into play here, because I think those lands are linked. A Valg/Hel Prince population on a different island?

@psychologynerd noted that we’ve previously connected the solar and seasonal courts, such Dawn = Spring, Day = Summer etc., and that it would track for Autumn and Dusk - an appropriately matched pair - to migrate together to Midgard. As an aside, this could tie in with the parallels shared by Azriel and Lucien, who may be/are linked to Dusk and Autumn. What if their power was connected via their “stars”?

@ladynightcourt3 wondered if Hesperus may have changed her name, hence Vesperus’ anger.

I can understand how a Daglan's presence may impart their magic into the land, especially if they're left buried - steeping? - in the soil for millennia, but how would that magic shape the faeries living there? Is it like I suggested in this post, that prolonged exposure to a powerful object allows a tie to be forged?

A bonus crack theory for fun - what if Merrill is a trapped Asteri? Either Nyx or Sirius, whom Apollion ate, and perhaps she escaped the pit of Hel through the base of the House of Wind library; nobody knows where she came from, she's descended from Rabbath of the Western Wind… her room is described as a cell and she called Nesta “girl” like Amren - an ancient - did. I dunno, but there's something about Merrill.

As always, thank you for reading! 💜

#hosab spoilers #hofas spoilers #acotar cc tog crossover theory #acotar theory #the dusk court #dusk court #the night court #night court #prythian #acotar #sjm books #maasverse #feysand #feyre archeron #rhys acotar #crack theory

[standfucker]

Finding Out You’re Stronger Than Them - Logia Edition (Smoker + Ace)

Feeling very stuck with my WIPS lately, so I decided to try my hand at a bullet-point style drabble. Ace’s and Smoker’s went fine, but Crocodile’s and Kuzan’s immediately grew into something too big for a bullet point list and will be posted separately, if I can get them to a point I’m happy with. Have these two for now.

CW: Just a little bit of violence

Ao3 Link

Smoker

You’ve been rising quickly through the ranks. Smoker’s heard that you’re strong, but by the time you get assigned to him, he has yet to see it for himself.

You’ve followed all of his orders thus far, and past reports on your behavior are generally positive, so when you block him from chasing a pirate one day, he’s taken by surprise.

“This one’s innocent. I saw it for myself. He’s trying to support the village.” You get into stance, eyes blazing with defiance, fully ready to take on your captain.

“It doesn’t make a difference,” Smoker says. “He’s still a pirate.”

“He only stole from nobles. People who wouldn’t miss the wealth. It makes every difference.”

“Get out of the way.”

“No.”

He turns into smoke to go around you, but you grab at where his ankle would be, your haki forcing his body back into shape, and swing him into the ground with such force that stars dot his vision as the wind is knocked out of him.

No one told him you could use armament haki.

“I’m stronger than you. Don’t get a big head because you’re my superior. I’ll surpass you soon.”

“I could have you court-martialed for this,” he gasps.

“Then do it. See if I care. That person was innocent–I know I did the right thing. I don’t give a shit about your opinion,” you pause, then add, “Captain.”

You crouch next to him as he struggles to sit up, still dizzy from the brutal impact. Picking up his cigars that have fallen, you dust them off before sticking one back in his mouth and putting the other in yours. You take an experimental puff, wrinkle your nose at the taste, and deftly twirl the cigar between your fingers. He finds himself staring as you exhale, smoke curling around your profile.

“I requested to be transferred to your unit because Tashigi told me you were different from the others,” you say, and pop the second cigar into his mouth as well. “So don’t disappoint me, Captain.”

The blush on his face is from indignation, or that’s what he tells himself. It’s the audacity. You have some nerve to talk to him that way. To lay your hands on a superior, to obstruct the law.

And yet. He shouldn’t, but a part of him–a big part of him–can’t help but admire your conviction. Enough so that he doesn’t report your insubordination.

It’s always refreshing to find a soldier who thinks for themselves, but it’s also dangerous if you cross the wrong superiors. (God forbid you talk back to someone like Akainu, which Smoker knows you would do without hesitation.) 

Smoker will have to keep an eye on you, to make sure you don’t get into trouble you can’t get out of…

Ace

One day, Ace realizes that in all the months since he’s officially joined the crew, he’s never seen you fight, not even to spar.

When he asks Marco about it, he says, “Oh, that’s because of the collateral damage, yoi.” Ace thinks Marco is joking and laughs. Marco does not.

But can you blame Ace? You’re one of the gentlest pirates in the fleet. You’re the kind of person who stops crewmates from squishing bugs, and who’s so stricken by the dead dogs at the end of your novels that you cry for days afterward (getting to hold you when you seek him out for comfort rules, but why you keep reading those, he does not know.)

After a battle with an enemy crew, one in which you don’t participate, Ace asks some crewmates why you abstained.

“Same reason Pops doesn’t join the small fights,” Haruta says. “Too messy, you know?”

“Wait, just how strong is Y/n?” Ace says, now realizing Marco was being serious earlier.

“Don’t worry about it, Ace,” you say behind him, making him jump. “Just know I’m stronger than you.”

That stings his pride, enough so that he challenges you to a friendly match while crewmates exchange glances.

“Sure, after you’ve rested from this fight. I’d hate to have a handicap.”

“I’m not tired! I can take you right here, right now.”

“Right now?” At Ace’s nod, you shrug. “Well, okay then. Here I go!”

You vanish.

He can’t sense you anywhere. By the time he figures out you’re behind him, it’s too late. One of your hands wraps around the back of his neck, the other on the hem of his pants. When he can’t escape by turning into flames, he knows you’re using haki.

You proceed to slam him face-first into the deck so hard he breaks straight through it, stuck upside down in the wood. The crewmates on the floor below blink up at him.

“You challenged Y/n, didn’t you,” one of them says.

Once his head stops swimming, Ace pulls himself out. His nose is broken and bleeding and he’s covered in scratches and splinters, but he’s looking at you with a newfound sense of awe.

“Logia types,” you shake your head, lip curling, “always so full of themselves.” Then you look stricken. “Oh, I hurt Moby again... Pops will scold me…”

And, look.

Ace knows what he likes. He’s not ashamed to say he found the whole thing extremely hot, but he has the decency to keep it to himself. (Literally the entire crew could tell, but no one tells Ace that either.)

He can’t stop thinking about the fight (if it could even be called that.) He stays awake at night, picturing the way your mouth moved when you said ‘Logia types,’ the little smirk afterward. He had always liked you, but now there’s a newfound aspect to his attraction, and he’s down bad.

Ace wants to know even more about you after that, asking you about your history and how you learned to fight. Luckily, you don’t mind the attention, and your humoring him feeds into his ego until he’s practically following you around in his free time. The rest of the crew takes notice, teasing him about being your shadow–but you never complain, so why should he care?

You've been spending lots of time together since then. He keeps fantasizing about saying “my partner can kick your ass” to people, but he hasn’t actually asked you out yet. It’s unlike him to be so gun-shy, yet every time he works up the nerve to ask, he only gets as far as “Hey, Y/n?” before your sparkly-eyed, saccharine “Yes, Ace?” crumbles his confidence to dust. But he’s Fire-Fist Ace, damn it! He faced Pops alone to save his crew, so why is this so difficult?

If he asks the other Division Commanders for help, expect a Looney Tunes style sequence of each one suggesting a courting method and it failing spectacularly and going up in literal flames, until he finally gets so frustrated with the whole thing he ends up just shouting his confession.

Bonus:

“There, there,” Ace says, patting your back while you cling to him and sob into his shoulder. “It’s just a stupid book.”

That was the wrong thing to say. With your emotions already running high, your misery shifts to rage in an instant.

“YOU JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND THE BOND BETWEEN A KID AND THEIR DOG BECAUSE YOU ATE EVERY ANIMAL YOU ENCOUNTERED GROWING UP!!” you wail, then hiccup, sob, and bury your face into his chest.

Ace wisely decides not to point out the food scarcity of his home island. There are better times, and at least you’re holding him tight...

#one piece imagines #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #smoker x reader #smoker one piece #portgas d ace #one piece x reader #zen writes

[alaezasmystery235]

PILE 1 -> PILE 2 -> PILE 3 -> PILE 4

↛ Paid Readings ↛Pick a Cards

꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝒶 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝒹 ; 𝗚𝗹𝗶𝗺𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗕𝗶𝗴 𝗗𝗮𝘆 𝗮.𝗸.𝗮 𝗪𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗗𝗮𝘆

rules, disclaimer and notes ☆

⋆·˚ 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 ⋆·˚ ----- This reading was made for entertainment purposes only. this is obviously a general reading so takes what resonates and leave when it doesn't, you don't need to force your energy to read this and leave such a bad comment just to say it doesn't resonates with you at all because the answer is very obvious!

⋆·˚ 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐞 ⋆·˚ ----- All of the pictures are collected and downloaded from 'pinterest' i don't own any of them but credits goes to the rightful owners however edits goes and belong to me only @alaezasmystery . I use the editor tools canva and kapwing for the header and divider. Extra credit to @daninixx for giving permission to use her rules and disclaimer.

ＰＩＬＥ 1

First court marriage then there will be big luxurious wedding party . It's a royal wedding !!!! You'll look like a powerful person . That's your day and you're just not ready to share it with anyone . Your Future Spouse can be famous or has fame to their name . Many people will make posts of your wedding photo viral in social media .

Extra information :- owl , Tik tok , China , Sushi , Pens and highlighter , Baby cradle , Red hair , Green and black eyes , 5 ' 6 - 6 ' 0 in height , garters , stockings , statement jewelry , diamond bracelet / heirloom , summer and June .

☜♡☞ TIPS :- PAYPAL 222 > If you love my reading, you can leave a tip or donation here , any amount will do since i just really need money or you can check or book an order from here.

𓊆 εїз 𓊇

ＰＩＬＥ 2

Big fantasy wedding ceremony . There will be a huge celebration in your wedding . You'll look so gorgeous and luxurious on that day . You're manifesting a successful huge ceremony . I'm seeing many expensive gifts being given to you . A presence of child / children will be there too. Maybe you'll own a pet by then whom you treat like your own child.

Extra information :- Swan , Sunflower , mesh net , Zari works , minimal jewelleries , boots , blonde highlights , peach and white colours , grandparents , 2211 , 1818 , Name starting with R , S , W , U , 2009 , 1998 , 25 .

☜♡☞ TIPS :- PAYPAL 222 > If you love my reading, you can leave a tip or donation here , any amount will do since i just really need money or you can check or book an order from here.

𓊆 εїз 𓊇

ＰＩＬＥ 3

Cute destination wedding is going here. Small amount of people are going to join your wedding . It's like a magical sacred union of two matured person. This wedding is going to be so intimate and exquisite. I'm seeing nature is included in your theme . Like beach , waterfall or ocean is present by your side. You'll look like an angel straight out of a fairytale .

Extra information :- Candles , fairy lights , cars , potluck , hotpot , 444 , piano , fluffy dresses , braids , ace of spades , Middle of the night by Elley Duhé , tulips , Netherlands , old photos , X , D , G , H , Ticket .

☜♡☞ TIPS :- PAYPAL 222 > If you love my reading, you can leave a tip or donation here , any amount will do since i just really need money or you can check or book an order from here.

𓊆 εїз 𓊇

ＰＩＬＥ 4

Okay this is giving me destination wedding vibe !! It maybe a small wedding but this is going to take place in different place than yours . I'm seeing a very vintage vibe from here . You'll be radiating so much that day. A sense of pride is in the air. People will be talking about this for a while . Many of your family members will be shocked to see that you're finally getting married .

Extra information :- Old money , Manor , Dolce & Gabbana , Jesper , Finland , Bees , Long drives , 26 , 30 , 4+ years age gap , Teacher - Student vibes , Seashell , Mirror , Buddha .

☜♡☞ TIPS :- PAYPAL 222 > If you love my reading, you can leave a tip or donation here , any amount will do since i just really need money or you can check or book an order from here.

𓊆 εїз 𓊇

© @alaezasmystery ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, alter, or repost my work without my explicit permission.

#pick a card reading #pick a pile reading #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a photo #tarot readings #free tarot reading #tarot reading #tarot community #free tarot #general tarot reading #channeled message #future spouse #future partner #alaezasmystery

[anneapocalypse]

Why Vivienne Needs the Inquisition

No one 'winds up' at Court, my dear. It takes a great deal of effort to arrive there.

–Enchanter Vivienne to the Inquisitor

An ask I received (referring, I think, to something I said in this post, though I've alluded to it at other points as well):

How/why is Vivienne's position at court shakier than it seems? (Please publish this anonymously.)

Thank you for asking! I’ve wanted to write something on this subject for a while, so I appreciate the push to get it all down. It’s something I find really interesting about Vivienne, because it's something she doesn't want the Inquisitor, or anyone, to know, so it's all subtext in the game. Vivienne is a character who always holds the player character at arms' length--a bit less so when she likes them, but there is always some distance there. As such, she's a difficult character to get to know.

And while I do have some issues with the way Vivienne is handled in the game, particularly with narrative and quest design, I won’t be touching on those heavily here. For this post I want to focus on what can be determined about her motivations from the character as written.

Vivienne can be recruited to the Inquisition after the Inquisitor's first trip to Val Royeaux. Notably, she seeks out the Inquisitor's attention herself, inviting them to a gala at the Duke of Ghislain's estate, and also notably, once recruited she will not leave the Inquisition and cannot be forced to leave, no matter how low her approval of the Inquisitor. This is also something I have seen people question: why can't you kick Vivienne out, and why won't she simply leave if she disapproves of your choices? I hope this post will answer that question as well.

The most critical aspect of Vivienne's character to understand, I think, is that she has no stable institutional power. She is not a noble. She has no familial connections of the sort that can help even a mage to keep their head above water. She is a woman who was taken from her family at a young age and raised in an institution, and who has used all her wit and charisma to make the very best of that situation for herself.

Vivienne's position as First Enchanter of Montsimmard is mostly an achievement within the Circle itself. Montsimmard itself, however, was also a stepping stone to influence outside the Circle. Personally, I think the fact that Vivienne declined to join any fraternity when she became a full Enchanter, a shocking move at the time, indicates that she held ambitions outside the Circle from a young age. And Montsimmard was the perfect proving ground for her, a major Orlesian city whose ruling family maintain close relations with the Circle. In The Masked Empire, the Marquise de Montsimmard boasts about dining at the Circle, and she and her husband wear masks adorned with lyrium crystals which we are told were a gift from the First Enchanter. It seems likely, though not confirmed, that this was Vivienne herself.

(Incidentally, it is a real shame that Vivienne’s character seems to have solidified so late in the game’s development, because in retrospect I really feel her absence in the novels. She gets a brief mention in The Masked Empire as Madame de Fer, and absolutely nothing in Asunder, which we'll come back to.)

It seems that the Montsimmard mages were called upon with some regularity to entertain the court, and this is how Vivienne first caught the attention of Duke Bastien in 9:16 Dragon. Within a year, she had moved into a suite in his estate. Her position came under attack for the next few years, but nonetheless, after a single meeting with Empress Celene in 9:20 Dragon, she became the newly-crowned Empress's Court Enchanter.

(Edited to add: It seems to be sometime after this that Vivienne became First Enchanter of Montsimmard, at "an age young enough to cause scandal," though the date is never confirmed that I can find. Incidentally, as @shrovetidecat brought to my attention in the notes, Fiona is also supposed to have been Grand Enchanter of Montsimmard, which given that may be a lore inconsistency, unless Vivienne is only meant to have taken the position after Fiona rose to Grand Enchanter&mdash;and I'm not sure why a 40-year-old First Enchanter would be scandalous.)

By the time she meets the Inquisitor, she is likely somewhere in her 40s, and has been the Enchanter to the Imperial Court and the Mistress to the Duke de Ghislain for twenty years. She regularly mingles with the court and has built a practically unprecedented influence for herself in Orlesian high society.

And it's all about to fall apart, for three critical reasons.

First, the obvious: the mage rebellion. One cannot be First Enchanter of a Circle that no longer exists, though Vivienne certainly tries. A majority of mages, even if by a razor-thin margin, have declared that they do not recognize the Circle's authority—and therefore Vivienne's authority as a loyal Enchanter within that system.

I think Vivienne's dialogue with the Inquisitor and her remarks if taken to Redcliffe reveal a deep frustration and resentment of Grand Enchanter Fiona, who called for the vote to leave the Circle and now leads the rebel mages. Vivienne of course handles this in the manner to which she is accustomed, the culture of the Imperial Court, in which trading in verbal jabs and barely-veiled insults is a standard matter of social one-upsmanship. Outside of that environment, she comes across as petty and rude, which is an interesting point of characterization in itself: Vivienne has thrived in the court environment, but she does seem to have a bit of trouble adapting her manner to different circumstances, where that sort of thing might not benefit her. But what she's trying to do is frame herself before the Inquisitor as the reasonable and respectable mage, and Fiona as misguided and pitiable. How well this goes for her, of course, depends on who the Inquisitor is. But the effort itself kind of reveals the shaky ground she's standing on.

In her dialogue with the Inquisitor, Vivienne claims that as the rebel mages follow Fiona, the loyal mages follow her. But where are these loyal mages? There's maybe one or two mages we meet in the game (Enchanter Ellendra comes to mind) who seem to respect Vivienne's word. But if the loyal mages look to her as a leader, why is Ellendra alone in a cave in the Hinterlands to begin with? Why doesn't Vivienne bring a group of these loyal mages with her to Skyhold?

I think it's because Vivienne doesn't truly have followers among the mages, the way Fiona does. This is the story she's telling the Inquisitor, to capitalize on the idea that the rebel position is not a consensus, and also that she still has influence among a significant number of mages. The truth is, she doesn't. She’s spent most of her life courting influence outside the Circle, not in it. She has presided over a Circle where she doesn’t even live day-to-day. I can’t imagine that has particularly endeared her to many of her fellow mages, even the ones who are loyalists or moderates.

Contrast this with Wynne, a pro-Circle Aequitarian who is deeply involved in Circle life despite undertaking sanctioned work outside the tower, and is also deeply involved in the events leading up to the vote for independence. Whatever the Doylist reasons for Vivienne's absense from Asunder, the fact remains: she's just not there. She has no presence in the events leading up to the rebellion. When speaking critically of Fiona's vote, she discusses it in the context of Anders' attack on the Kirkwall Chantry, and says nothing of the circumstances surrounding Fiona's push for a vote—not the revelations about Tranquility, not the conclave (no not that Conclave, the conclave of mages at which Fiona called for the vote for independence), not the subsequent massacre by the templars and the remaining mages' decision to stand and fight. And perhaps most notably, no one mentions Vivienne, positively or negatively, during the events of Asunder. Not once. We are left with the conclusion that Vivienne is simply not heavily involved in Circle politics, no matter what impression she may wish to give the Inquisitor. Her influence does not lie within the Circle.

And I think Vivienne knows this, and realizes that it's suddenly become a big problem for her.

The second big problem is Morrigan.

Vivienne has had the favor of the Empress herself for twenty years. She has, by others' accounts, managed to turn the position of Court Enchanter from "little more than court jester" to a position of influence and respect. And then the Grand Duke attempts a coup, and the Empress's elven lover runs away with a dangerous secret, and suddenly the Empress is enlisting the services of some unwashed swamp witch while Vivienne is standing right there!

Like I cannot overstate what a absolutely galling slap in the face it would be to Vivienne that even as she is attempting to uphold the legitimacy of the Circle and thus of her own authority within it, Celene effectively creates the "Arcane Advisor" position as "Court Mage 2: Apostate Boogaloo" just so she can get advice on non-Circle-approved magics. Advice that Vivienne could not give even if she wanted to, even if the Empress asked, because she has no knowledge of eluvians and ancient elven magic.

Both Dorian and Cole needle Vivienne about her jealousy of Morrigan, and I think quite accurately, no matter how quick Vivienne is to deny it.

Her influence over the Empress is fast eroding. She has been replaced in all but name.

And the third and most personal big problem is Bastien's illness.

Vivienne has enjoyed a romance with one of the empire's most influential nobles for twenty years. She has lived in his home and been on good terms with his wife until her passing. Her influence in the Imperial Court owes a lot to Bastien's affections. Bastien is not only a Duke but a member of the Council of Heralds, the political body responsible for overseeing matters of titles and inheritance in Orlais. They are quite literally the most powerful group in the country; even the Empress rules at their favor, without which she would never have gained the throne in the first place.

And now Bastien is dying, something Vivienne takes care not to mention to the Inquisitor at first. It's not until after the ball at the Winter Palace that Vivienne asks the Inquisitor for help with her potion in a last-ditch attempt to prolong his life—and even then she does not reveal her true purpose until after the Inquisitor has returned with the wyvern's heart. And while it's possible to interpret multiple ways, I personally believe from her response to his death that she did care for Bastien. She didn't need to bring the Inquisitor to his deathbed at all, if she wanted to continue concealing his illness, something she's taken care to do up until that point. It bespeaks a measure of trust that she allows the Inquisitor to see her so—in her grief, as well as in her loss of position.

Because Bastien's death is a terrible loss for Vivienne socially as well as personally. Bastien's son will inherit his estate, and whether Vivienne is allowed to go on living there will be entirely at his discretion. Perhaps he will permit her to stay, but she cannot count upon his grace, nor upon the protection she enjoyed with Bastien any longer; and furthermore if she is allowed to stay, it will be a favor to her, making her beholden rather than granting her greater influence. She won't have the dignity of being Bastien's widow; she is his mistress, and respected as that position may be in the Orlesian court, it gives her no true claim to his family.

Vivienne is about to lose everything she has built for herself.

Without Bastien, without Celene, she will be left with… what? The position of First Enchanter to a Circle that no longer exists? If her own best-case scenario occurs and the rebellion is halted and the Circles are reinstated, then she still loses all the freedom she has gained and is forced to return to a Circle tower herself—a sphere in which, as previously discussed, she holds less influence than she would like the Inquisitor to believe. Even if she remains First Enchanter, it's hard to see this as anything but a massive step down in the social hierarchy, the beginning of a long slide into what the Fade reveals as her greatest fear: irrelevance.

It's a humiliation that Vivienne cannot bear.

This is why she won't leave the Inquisition, no matter how much she may despise the Inquisitor. Vivienne needs the Inquisition far more than she lets on. This even puts the petty low-approval furniture-moving scene into context. Yes, she’s doing it to snub the Inquisitor, but that doesn’t actually gain her anything. I think it’s deeper than that. The Inquisition was Vivienne’s fallback plan, and it’s not going well. The Inquisitor is making her look bad, she is finding no avenue to further advancement here, but she can’t leave. So, her response is to try to reclaim some sense of control over her life, asserting a kind of power she had at Bastien’s estate and was likely denied in the Circle: control over her own space.

Even if Bastien were to live a bit longer, Vivienne really has nowhere higher she can climb in the Imperial Court. She can't become a noble herself. She can't marry Bastien, or any other noble for that matter, because she is a mage. And I'm sure she's highly aware of this fact. Bastien is several years a widower himself; it is not his former marriage that prevents him from marrying her, now. It is her status as a mage which bars her from entering a noble family, legally, socially, politically. That Bastien never seems to have raised the question at all speaks to the fact that no matter how much he may have stuck his neck out for Vivienne, there was a line even he was not interested in crossing.

So where does she have to go from here?

Along comes the nascent Inquisition. Shaking things up. If any organization could rattle the gilded walls of the Chantry, it's this one.

Why not take a stab at the Chantry, at this point? What does she have to lose?

It didn’t really sink in for me for several playthroughs because she isn't wearing cleric's garb, but Bastien's sister Marcelline, who visits Skyhold after his death with Bastien’s son? She's a grand cleric. One of the surviving grand clerics who will decide the next Divine. Vivienne involves the Inquisitor in her plan to save Bastien, a plan she likely knows will fail—but she puts in the effort. She then introduces the Inquisitor to Grand Cleric Marcelline, having told her how the Inquisitor came to her aid. Marcelline expresses gratitude: “Madame de Fer has told us what great trials you faced, trying to save my poor brother’s life.” Bastien’s son Laurent is a powerful ally in his own right, now a member of the Council of Heralds, but also likely the one who will decide whether Vivienne keeps her suite in the Ghislain estate.

And if the conversation goes well, Vivienne tells the Inquisitor that it was "quite the triumph." If the Inquisitor expresses confusion, she patiently explains the influence that both Laurent and Marcelline wield, and that they have now secured the trust of both. If Vivienne becomes Divine, Marcelline’s favor no doubt goes a long way in getting her there.

Of course Vivienne will continue to take a conservative position on the mage question. A mage looking to insinuate herself into the Chantry hierarchy would have to, just as a mage seeking the freedom to consort with the court would have to. In the same way that a Hawke with aspirations of seizing the vacant seat of Kirkwall's Viscount must side with the templars at the end to show the nobility that they represent stability and order, the Chantry's first mage cleric must be pro-Circle, pro-templar, conservative to the bone. Vivienne seems to recognize this as far more important than actually appearing devout. It's also fascinating to me how little she bothers to make any pretense of a personal faith, instead always discussing the Chantry as an important social institution and political body. And this attitude doesn't seem to impede her chances at the Sunburst Throne very much, no more so than being a mage already would.

Vivienne knows exactly what she's doing. She always has.

Vivienne comes to the Inquisition seeking power and influence in the Chantry because her position among the nobility is falling apart. Whether she comes in with the intention to reach for the Sunburst throne itself is debatable, and I personally think it might have been the intent that she does have that ambition but seeks to let the Inquisitor think it was their own idea, though I'm iffy on how successful that is if it was the intent. Nonetheless, I do believe that Vivienne comes to the Inquisition with the intent to seek influence within the Chantry, realizing that the recent upheaval may offer her a unique opportunity to do so. And depending on how closely the Inquisitor aligns with her goals, she may succeed quite dramatically.

References

Codex Entry: Madame de Fer

Talking with Vivienne at Haven and Skyhold

Vivienne's high disapproval scene

After Bastien's death

Banter with Cole

Banter with Dorian

The World of Thedas vol. 2, pp. 235-239 (hardcover edition)

Dragon Age: The Masked Empire, p. 31 (paperback edition)

#vivienne #madame de fer #dragon age meta #dragon age inquisition #the masked empire #asunder #bastien de ghislain #blunders of thedas #ask anne #thedas politics

[onbearfeet]

Kat watches Moon Knight

Okay, so with the encouragement of several people on here and the emotional support of my roommate, I have finally (in February 2024) started watching Moon Knight, a show whose basic concept scares the shit out of me.

Context: I had an adopted older brother with DID. Note that I said "had". That's past tense because life treated him so appallingly poorly that he died (horribly, in prison) when I was 19. Part of that abuse was enabled by pop-culture depictions of DID in the 1980s and 90s that convinced everyone who knew about his condition (including the court system) that he was a walking time bomb.

One of my earliest memories is of my brother as a young adult, playing Super Mario Bros with my toddler self. Another is of him patiently teaching me how to make friends with a large dog. I never met any of his alters, afaik; I was small and cute and safe for him to be himself with, so he probably didn't need them around me. He was a profoundly gentle man when he was allowed, and it hurt like hell to see him turned into a monster in movies and on TV. I've turned off a lot of "psychological thrillers" in sorrow and disgust.

Ironically, I loved Moon Knight comics as a kid in the 90s, BEFORE he was retconned to have DID circa the mid-2000s. Because those comics came out right after my brother died in 2002 and leaned HARD into making people with DID seem like violently unstable monsters (for reference, see the cover of Moon Knight: God and Country), I stopped reading them around 2008, when I couldn't take being poked in the trauma by a comfort character anymore.

But I do love Werewolf By Night, and there's been a lot of good fic mashing Jack up with Moon Knight without dehumanizing anyone, and several people have encouraged me to try the show. So this post will be a place for my thoughts as I try to work my way through with my Essential Editions in one hand and my memories of my brother in the other. I'll add to it as I watch.

If this entertains the Moon Knight fandom or provides useful fic reference, so be it. Just don't be jerks on my post.

Also, anyone who chooses to be shitty about my brother will be eaten by bears. I don't make the rules.

Episode 1

Okay, we open with Steven as our POV character, and he's...convinced he's a sleepwalker. All right, not terrible. Steven is now a bumbling nerd, which is probably an improvement; good luck making a billionaire playboy sympathetic in the 2020s. Jake would be the logical everyman POV from the comics, but I understand from fic that he's got a different role now. I'm confused about the accent, but it's only episode 1, and Steven clearly doesn't yet know who Khonshu is, or that Marc exists, so obviously there's a ways to go here. (Is Marc ... undercover inside Steven? Ugh, this is a trope I have seen and do not like.)

Did Marc kill Steven's fish? Did Khonshu kill Steven's fish? I'm baffled by the fish. Which is a nice break from the larger anxiety. I'm gonna try to worry more about the fish.

The bits with Steven losing time and finding himself in odd situations were distressingly close to the old tropes, but both of those happened to my brother, so I'm not going to bitch about them quite yet. I want to be as fair as I can.

Oh, hey, I recognize Harrow from the comics. What up, dude. How's the cult biz treating you?

The end of the episode, with the jackal thing chasing Steven into the bathroom, came RIGHT up to the line for me. I realized that what I was most afraid of was that the story would assign "good" and "bad" labels to the alters--make Steven the sweet, innocent one and Marc (or maybe Jake, I guess) the monstrous killer. The early flashes of Steven covered in blood didn't really help allay that anxiety. And now Marc is demanding that Steven let him have control in a pretty threatening manner. But so far, it seems like the contrast between Marc and Steven is one of competence--Marc is better at fighting and Steven is better at ... panicking? Unclear. At least Oscar Isaac is playing the protagonist, so his character(s) might remain sympathetic. Nobody has been monsterized quite yet.

I finished the episode with every muscle in my body locked up, waiting for the emotional punch in the face. But I did finish it, and I think I'm gonna try episode two.

#kat watches moon knight #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #i guess I'm processing trauma again #hello trauma my old friend

[peterman-spideyparker]

The Roommate and The Best Friend (College!Matt Murdock x College!Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Long time, no post, guys! I do apologize for going silent on the fic front--I’ve just been so tired lately, I haven’t had the motivation to really edit anything I’ve written. BUT, my sweet baby angels, this is the longest stand alone fic I’ve ever done! It also took forever to edit, lol. I really hope you guys enjoy! :)

Summary: You’ve been Foggy’s best friend since you two could walk. Matt’s been Foggy’s best friend since he moved in at Columbia. After three years at law school all together, you’re all as thick as thieves. When Foggy doesn’t show up one day to a study session, something blossoms between you and Matt that will change the ecosystem of your friendship trio forever.

Warnings: Fluff (friends to lovers, cuteness, cuddles, kisses), angst (shouting, friendship fights, hurt feelings), smut (p in v, protected sex, blowjob, handjob, being cute dorks when a matching set is involved), swearing

Other Characters: College!Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 8.081

“At what point do you think we can officially say Foggy isn’t coming?” you sigh, flipping the page in your notebook and highlighting what is written in accordance to your study system.

Matt lets out a breath through his nose as his fingers move to feel at the braille surface of his watch. “An hour ago?” he smirks, resuming his own work. 

“Eh, I guess I should have seen that coming.”

“How so?”

“All boys are the same when they start relationships, especially when they reengage the on-again. Knowing Foggy and Marci, they’re doing some weird sort of sex-study review game.” You shudder at the memory. “You’re lucky you’re blind, Matty. You can’t unsee that.”

“Trust me, I think it’s worse to only hear,” he chuckles. 

“Ew, don’t even remind me of the sound!”

Matt just laughs, his fingers sliding across the page.

“Hey, get back to studying, Chuckles,” you chastise, smiling big yourself as you move back to your notes. “Rule 24 of Federal Civil Procedure won’t learn itself.”

“Rule 24. Intervention. Intervention of Right: On a timely motion, the court must permit anyone to intervene who—.”

“Shut up,” you scoff playfully, hitting his shin underneath the table. “Show off.”

You go back and forth, quizzing one another on the rules of civil procedure in the unit, adjusting in the library chairs until you’re leaning shoulder to shoulder going over material, Matt having abandoned his braille textbooks to listen to you read to him.

“You have a really beautiful voice, you know that?” Matt hums, his voice dipping into a velvety timbre.

“You’re just lazy,” you chuckle as you tilt your head and gaze over at him. “Getting me to do all the work.”

“Delegating,” he attempts.

“Laziness,” you counter.

“You do better when do explain things. You’ve said so yourself. And I’m a great listener.”

You purse your lips and let out a little sigh. “I do do better when I talk out loud,” you admit.

“You also always find your answer when you do.”

“And I do like talking to you.”

“I rest my case,” he says with a satisfied smile.

“Asshole.”

You laugh in your little secluded spot in the library, your shoulders shaking against one another’s as you do. You tilt your head to face him, Matt doing the same thing at the same time, his dark rectangular glasses long abandoned, letting you look into the honey hazel galaxy of his irises. 

“Hey,” he whispers, his voice making a warmth spread all over your body.

“Hey yourself, Murdock,” you counter.

“You’re gonna be a really great lawyer, you know that?”

You feel yourself blush. If it’s from the sentiment of his words, the pitch that he says it, or your proximity, you’ll never know. Maybe it’s all three. You’re just glad he can’t see the full extent of how his words make you feel.

“Thanks, Matty. You’re gonna be great, too. I pity whoever will have to go against you in court.”

“You are so extraordinary, (Y/N),” he whispers, his thumb and forefinger taking ahold of your chin, the space between the two of you smaller than you remember.

“So are you,” you breathe.

“(Y/N), I—."

“I think we’re just getting tired,” you breathe as his lips hover centimeters from yours. 

“No, I think we’re picking up on something that’s been here for a bit,” he counters, his voice at such a low pitch it does things to the heart in your chest and the heart between your legs.

But this is Matt you’re talking about. He’s your friend. He’s Foggy’s friend, his roommate. Sure, people can bond with their roommates, but it was almost like something out of a buddy-comedy with what happened with those two, and it was instantaneous.

You shuffle and maneuver around everyone in the hallway, moving furniture and supplies into their homes for the next year as you track down the number that is your best friend’s new address.

“Alright, Foghorn, boxes have been unpacked, and liquor needs to be poured!” you call as you glide through the entryway, the door left ajar. When you enter, you don’t see anyone in sight. Did you get the wrong number? No, that’s not it: unless someone else has some interest in really niche bands and the same quilt his mother knit him for Christmas in undergrad, you’re definitely in the right place. The social butterfly of a teddy bear man probably bonding with his roommate or something.

Just as you flop down on what his definitely Foggy’s bed, you hear his laugh and the tapping of something growing closer to the dorm.

“ . . . and I said, ‘No, Mom and Dad. I love you guys, but I don’t want to be a butcher, I want to be a lawyer,” Foggy recalls his infamous butcher story, his words becoming clear as they enter.

“Not the butcher story!” you interrupt, sitting right back up like a vampire in its casket, watching Foggy enter with a handsome man next to him, his brown hair floppy and shiny, dark rectangular glasses perched on his nose and a white cane in the hand that isn’t holding his coffee. “You got coffee without me? Rude.”

“Jesus, (Y/N)!” Foggy hisses, almost slipping his to go cup of coffee in the process.

“Sounds like a pretty famous tale,” the man next to him says with an amused smirk pulling across some particularly pouty lips. Really pretty pouty lips.

“Matt, this is (Y/N), my best friend since toddledom,” Foggy introduces, licking some of the roast that escaped the sip hole of the lid. “(Y/N), this is my roommate, Matt. His dad was Battlin’ Jack Murdock.”

Getting up, you move over to in front of where he stands by Foggy, watching how he adjusts the cane in his grip to under his arm, extending his hand just enough where it looks expectant for yours.

“It’s nice to meet you, Matt,” you tell him with a soft smile. 

“Likewise,” he says with a little nod.

“I have to say, my gram was a big fan of your dad. She loved watching his matches.” He acknowledges your comment with a nod of his head and a little, soft smile. “You know, you lucked out on your roommate. Foggy’s the best friend you could ever ask for. You might need to get some earplugs, though, he snores like a Foghorn.”

“Do not!” Foggy interjects.

“He’s still in phase one denial of the whole thing. Really, sometimes, I think he could wake the dead with that sound.”

Matt’s lips curl into an incredibly large smile with a warm laugh that matches the expression.

And, well, the rest his history, with the three of you being thick as thieves since that day.

“This can’t happen,” you breathe, swallowing hard while your head and heart race a million miles a minute. “Foggy is my best friend—he’s your best friend. We can’t.”

“I know,” he breathes. “That doesn’t mean I want to, though. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you want to, too.” He pushes some hair that has fallen out of your clip behind your ear. “Would it . . . Would it really be the worst thing?”

Your eyes flick down to his lips and how is tongue peeks out ever so slightly to moisten the plush skin before back up to his honey hazel eyes and their off-center gaze, his face softer and more vulnerable without the dark specks resting on his nose. 

“This kind of stuff can ruin friendships. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to hurt Foggy.”

“I don’t want any of that either. But I also know that I don’t want to go another moment without kissing you.”

It’s unclear if you’re the one that closes the gap between you or if it’s Matt, but before you know it, you’re kissing in your little corner of the library. His lips are as soft as they look, perhaps even more so, and his aftershave floods your nose—crisp and fresh, a subtle blend of sandalwood, vanilla, and coffee pulling you closer and closer into him. His large hands slide down the sides of your body, squeezing your waist, making you moan into his mouth. The sound encourages him to lift you up, placing you so you straddle one of his legs. As the kiss grows more heated, your fingers running through his incredibly soft hair, you pull back, your chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“Are you okay?” Matt asks softly, his hands running up and down your body soothingly.

“Extremely,” you breathe with a bright smile.

Matt smiles so bright he could outshine the sun, lines of happiness etching themselves into the skin by his eyes as he leans back in for a kiss. His hands continue to move mindlessly along your waist and your back, his fingers grazing the hem of your shirt and sneaking underneath the soft fabric, making goosebumps break out over your body with a shudder.

“Isn’t it a bit of a cliché to do that in the library, Matthew?” you whisper in his ear as he trails wet kisses along your neck, your entire body tingling at your position and the way he moves against your body.

“Only if we get caught,” he smirks, moving his face back so it’s focused in your direction.

“I’m taking that as code for you can attest to that from experience?”

“It was a close call, never a red-handed situation.”

“Mm, you true gentleman.”

You watch as Matt’s brows shoot up and furrow, some of the energy leaving him as his demeanor beings to change. “Do you not want to? We don’t have to. I—.”

“I want to, Matt,” you tell him, your cheeks burning hot at your own admission. “Do you?”

“I do. I wouldn’t have kissed you like that if I didn’t want to. Unfortunately, I didn’t think it through all the way—we can’t go back to my dorm. Foggy is probably there.”

“We could go back to mine?” you suggest, your heart now fully racing like a marathon runner. “I have a dingle.”

“Dingle?” Matt repeats with furrowed eyebrows and pouty lips.

“A double that’s now a single since my roommate dropped out.”

“A dingle.”

“A dingle, yeah.”

Matt brings his lips back to your, his kisses needily and tenderly in your isolated corner of the library. 

“So, is that a yes, Murdock?”

The wicked grin that pulls as his lips tell you everything you need to know, and he doesn’t even bothering to use his cane as you lead him to your dorm on campus.

As soon as the door to your place is closed, your lips reattach and your hands work in a frenzy against one another’s bodies, desperately trying to get the clothes off of one another. Your hands slide over his muscular arms and torso until they are buried in his hair, the only thought in your brain is that you need to get him deeper and closer—a thought that continues on loop for the time you’re together.

The feeling of Matt’s lips on yours is made so much better after the orgasms that he has pulled from your body over and over during the night, but you’ll be damned if he stops now. A thin sheen of sweat covers your bodies as Matt continues to rut into you, one hand on your waist while the other supports his body weight on the mattress, kissing your shoulders and neck while his little wooden crucifix swings back and forth around his neck.

“Matt,” you groan before you pull him up for a kiss, his hair an absolute disheveled mess. It’s sloppy and filled with need, but damn if it isn’t absolutely impeccable.

“Do you have one more in there for me, angel?” he pants as he moves his kisses across your cheek to the sweet spot of your neck. “Come on, angel, you can cum one more time, can’t you?” All you can do is whimper as Matt continues to wind up that special knot in your stomach. “You’re doing so good. One more, I promise. Just one more.”

Hiking up your legs around his waist, you make sure the Matt’s hips stay as close to yours as possible, selfishly letting him rub up against your swollen, overstimulated clit, and ensuring that he’s nice and deep in you. The little grunts and groans that fall from Matt’s lips are angelic, the parted, plush lips and scrunched look of bliss on his face making your heart race more than it already is from exertion.

“Matty,” you whine. “Fuck!”

“Doin’ good, angel. Fuck, so good.”

Biting your lip and closing your eyes, you let the feeling wash over you while you dig your fingers into his toned muscles.

“I’m gonna . . . I—.”

“M-Me too,” he moans, dropping to his forearm to come closer to you as you try to hold your legs back higher. The newfound closeness and the new position let’s Matt reach a new angle, and it’s enough for the both of you to fall over the edge together. Matt does his best to try and fuck you through both of your orgasms, but it’s too much, and he stills, his hand running all over your body as he dips his head and presses soft kisses to your neck and lips. You suck in a sharp breath as he pulls out, feeling hollow without him in you, the drag of his length along your walls enticing. Tying up the condom, he tosses it in the trash while you get up and pad over to the bathroom. When you get back, you see him waiting with a dopey smile on his face, the sheets draping over his hips like some kind of adonis. When you get close enough, he pulls back your sheets and you happily slide in, snuggling close as he wraps an arm around you.

“You’re good at that,” you hum. “I think you’d gold medal.”

Matt laughs as his fingers trace patterns into your skin. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“We can’t go back from that, you know,” you say softly.

“Who says I want to go back from it?” He shifts his head down in an effort to look at your face. You look back at him with furrowed brows. “I want to be more, (Y/N).”

“Matt,” you start. “I meant what I said. I don’t want to lose you or Foggy. If we do this and it doesn’t work . . . I lose the two most important people in my life.”

“I swear to you, (Y/N), you won’t lose either of us.”

You snuggle down on him, listening to his heartbeat before you peck a quick kiss to his chest. “I want more, too.”

“Then we’ll figure it out. I promise.” Matt runs a soothing hand up and down the line of your back.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispers.

You let out a little sigh. “Just that I thought I was supposed to be wined and dined before I was sixty-nine’d.”

Matt lets out a chuckle that radiates throughout your body. “We didn’t—.”

Before he can finish, you tilt your head up to look at his face, witnessing the moment that it clicks in his brain. “Classy,” he laughs.

“I’m just saying . . .”

“I can order pizza? I just don’t think I can do booze to go.”

“Who says you need to bring the booze?” Rolling over, you reach into the bottom drawer of your nightstand and pull out a bottle of wine. “From the special movie night reserve.”

Matt’s lips turn into a big smile, making adorable lines appear again at the corners of he eyes as he leans forward for another kiss, making you loose grip on your bottle of wine. He catches it with ease, placing it to the side of the bed as he chases your lips, and the way he captures your body beneath his lets you know that he doesn’t plan for the night to end any time soon.

Your leg bounces and your heart races as your eyes keep flicking towards the clock on the desk, watching the second hand move painfully slow across the timepiece as you await Matt’s arrival like you do several times a week, except this time, you have a surprise for him. Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest when you hear a gentle knock at the door. There’s no special pattern to it, but the pressure and rhythm lets you know that Matt is on the other side. His handsome smile greets you when you swing your door open.

“Hey,” you smile as Matt enters your dorm, his bag sliding off his broad shoulders to the ground, cane leaning up against the wall, and glasses coming off of his face as he toes off his shoes.

“Hey yourself,” he hums as his plush lips curl upward into a smile, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. The way his tongue slides into your mouth sends goosebumps all throughout your body; if anyone else tried to kiss you like this, you would consider it absolutely gross. But the way Matt does is? That’s how a man kisses—a man that’s on the cover of a romance novel that is dominant but tender, passionate yet gentle. A shudder of pleasure moves through you like shockwaves as he moves his hands up from your waist and up to your neck, helping him set the pace and motions of the kiss.

“I have a surprise for you,” you whisper when he finally pulls back, getting the sentence out just before he begins to eagerly move back in.

His eyebrows quirk up. “Do you, now?” Cocky bastard.

“I do. Now, sit on the bed.”

With a gentle push on his shoulder, he falls back on the mattress, making him coo in delight as he bounces slightly and causes the springs to squeak. With a little exhale to pump yourself up, you pull off your shirt and slide down your jeans, standing in nothing but your underwear.

“You know I can’t see it, angel,” Matt says with a tilt of his head. “But I do like what I just heard.”

“You don’t need to see it to appreciate it, Matty,” you inform, taking a step forward, taking his hands in yours and placing them on your shoulders. “Now, feel.”

This fingers glide over the soft lace that flutters off of the straps, down to the smooth mesh cups, and over the sides, tracing the lace and the pseudo-boning that decorate the bustier. His fingertips trace between the valley of your breasts, feeling a little criss-cross pattern that adorns the fabric before gliding his fingers down the the mesh panties and feeling the same soft lace that decorated it. A tiny moan escapes your lips when he brushes his fingers down between your legs, his digits lingering before they come to rest on your hips. 

“You got a matching set for me?” he asks, his expression and tone one that you can’t quite read.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, Murdock, it’s from Target,” you hum as his hands trace the hemline of your panties. “But yeah. I thought you’d like the textures being consistent. And, I could afford it, so, that was a perk.”

“You got lingerie for me,” he smirks, his lopsided grin telling you that you’ve only inflated his ego. “That’s so—.” His sentence his halted when his fingers trail to the back of the underwear, just below the small of your back. “Angel, I think you’re missing part of these panties.”

Now it’s your turn to smirk. “Nope,” you tell him, popping the ‘p’. “It’s got a little keyhole back. It’s not quite easy access, but—mm, Matty.”

“I say, it gives me a good idea,” he says as one hand squeezes the flesh of your ass as the fingers on the other slip into the keyhole and tease you. Pulling you back onto the bed with him, you straddle him as you mimic the kind of kiss he greeted you with upon arriving. Moans and puckering quickly fill the room as you grind your hips on his jeans, opting to tease him through his light layers before attempting to shed them.

“You are such a fucking tease,” he murmurs in between kisses.

“Hi pot, it’s kettle,” you quip as you mark up his neck before pulling off his shirt. If you didn’t right this second, you’d never hear the end of it.

“Objection—badgering!”

“Overruled.”

With a light shove, you push him down so you are now fully on top of him, kissing all over his beautiful chest and soft skin as you grind into him.

“Shit,” he hisses. “Fuck, that’s nice.”

“You’ve helped me perfect my technique,” you hum into his skin, moving your kisses back up to his neck and lips. “Gotta get you nice and hard for me, Matty.”

As you continue to grind down on him, his hands guide your hips, setting the pace and pressure just so in an effort to make you both feel good. When his hands begin to travel up on your body along the line of your spine, you gently take hold of them and bring them back down.

“I got the matching set for you—it’s staying on during this entire thing,” you smirk, dragging his fingers along the mesh and lace of your panties. “Now, I can’t say the same thing about these jeans.”

Moving off of him, you undo his belt and pants, shimmying off the denim with some help from his hands, allowing you to take hold of his painfully hard cock, pumping it in your hand before you bend down, your knees digging into the thin mattress so you can start to take him in your mouth.

“(Y/N),” he moans. “Fuck . . . So nice, baby.”

“Mm,” you giggle, dragging your lips back and forth along his length, licking him here and there. “Your cock is so pretty, Matty. I love putting it in my mouth.” Slowly going down on his length, you wiggle your head side to side lightly until you’re all the way down on his length with your cheeks hollowed out. You look up at him through your lashes, feeling a sense of pride at how is face is contorted in pleasure and how long his lashes look resting on his cheeks. Moving off of him, you gasp and catch your breath, hungrily kissing up his length while one of his hands cradle the side of your face. His hand doesn’t set a pace as you bob your head, repeatedly taking his thick cock into your mouth over and over, but rather as a silent show of encouragement and affection as you work him. Careful to not get too lost in it all with Matt in your mouth, you reluctantly pull off, leaving soft pecks all the way up his body until you meet his lips.

“Are you ready to fuck me with my panties on, Matty?” you coo.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he murmurs with his lips against your. Taking you by surprise, he quickly grabs you by your hips and flips your positions, making you giggle and bring his lips back to yours for a deep kiss. Like a rehearsed routine, he extends his arm to the side and opens your nightstand drawer, rummaging around for the box of condoms you keep there. “Angel,” he pants, “I hate to break it to you, but there are no more condoms in this box.”

“What?” you say practically whining as you adjust your position under Matt, taking the investigation into your own hands. Just as Matt said, the box of contraceptives is completely empty. This time, you do whine. “No!”

“I told you.”

“I could have sworn I had plenty.”

“You know what it was?” he says, something clicking in his brain. “Moot court championship.”

Thinking back to a couple of weeks ago, you remember exactly how you celebrated the travel team winning your championship over Yale—you and Matt being the two that secured the victory, which only provided extra cause to celebrate.

“Damn, you’re right,” you sigh.

“I could always run out and get some more? I’d be quick.”

“Just what every girl wants to hear,” you joke, only for Matt to roll his eyes, licking his lips and tilting his head back in playful annoyance. Damn, he’s got a beautiful neck. “No, Matty. I don’t want you going out this late.

“It’s not too late, sweetheart.”

“I’d be worried about you going out in the dark.”

“That’s sweet—you worry about me.” Nothing in his words are condescending—they’re filled with pure affection. “Trust me, (Y/N). I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.”

“I still don’t like the idea of you going out.”

Matt kisses your forehead before resting his on yours. “I have an idea, but I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” you say, knowing immediately where he is going with his sentence.

“Well, since you don’t want me to go out and get some more and I really, really need to be inside the smart and talented woman that bought a matching set for me, we’re in a pickle.”

You let out a huff, your hands sliding down Matt’s furry arms.

“Foggy isn’t there?” you check.

“Out with Marci.”

“And you’re sure there’s no way he’d be back?”

“I can say it’s highly likely he won’t be back. Even if he does—.”

“Matt—.”

“Even if he does,” he repeats. “He’s gonna leave almost immediately because his roommate is having sex.”

“And if he asks with who after? Actually, better yet, what if he tries to come and hang out with me?”

“Tell him you’re out shopping. You and I both know that while he’s a man of unique fashion, he treats shopping like a mission. Trust me, that should work.”

You look up at him, licking your lips in hesitation before you pull him down for a kiss. “Okay. But first . . .” Maneuvering him on the two pushed together mattresses of your dingle so you’re on top, you run your hands down his body, wrapping your digits around his rock hard length and pumping him a few times. “You’re not going anywhere with a boner that big.”

“Matt,” you breathe as he glides into me so incredibly effortlessly, hitting deep over and over. “Oh God, Matt.”

“Angel,” he grunts, a delicious blush spreading up and across his chest and neck. “Fuck, I needed you.”

“You’ve got me,” you smile, taking one of his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together while he thrusts into you. “Mm, you’ve got me, Matty. I’m yours. Only yours. ’m not going anywhere.”

The softest smile spreads across his features when he rests his forehead on yours. “My girl,” he whispers before bringing his lips to yours.

Dipping his lips to your neck, his holds your hips up so your back arches slightly off of the bed while he thrusts into you.

“Matty,” you whimper. “I lo—mm! Matt!”

Matt places wet kisses all over your chest and neck before he brings his lips back to yours. 

“So perfect,” he mutters in between kisses, and it’s then that you hear the twist and jiggle of the doorknob.

Matt abruptly breaks your embrace, frantically moving to cover your body with his, and you curl inward and down to the mattress, facing the wall so Foggy won’t be able to see your face.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Foggy says, and you can hear his hurried movements to grab what he needs. “Inopportune timing, I know, but Marci invited me on a weekend getaway, and I need some things.”

“Just hurry,” Matt urges him, and you can tell that the rapid way that his chest rises and falls isn’t from your interrupted exertion. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, I am out of—,” Foggy starts, but he doesn’t finish his sentence. “Those are (Y/N)’s shoes.”

“What would her shoes be doing in our room, Foggy? She can’t just leave them places —she kind of needs them. Besides, I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”

You hear Foggy’s bag fall to the floor with a thud.

Shit.

“Matt, who’s with you?”

“Foggy—.”

“You know, I think I might just give (Y/N) a call. Check up on her.”

“Fog—.”

“Wait,” you sigh, closing your eyes in distress and defeat as you break your silence. Adjusting from under Matt, you turn to look at your friend. The look of pure betrayal and hurt is one that will haunt you for the rest of your life. But what’s even scarier, is how quickly the hurt in his eyes turns to pure, red-hot anger.

“Get away from them!” Foggy shouts, pulling Matt off the bed, Matt barely having enough time to react and keep his sheets around his hips. “Don’t you dare touch them!” You hop down from the mattress, standing between the two best friends and roommates, sticking your arms out to create extra distance in the tiny dorm so Foggy doesn’t absolutely jump Matt.

“Stop it!” you urge.

“I can’t believe you!” Foggy continues.

“Foggy, believe me, we didn’t mean for this to happen, it just did—,” Matt tries.

“You know how much they mean to me, and you just decided to ignore it and drop your pants for a quick fuck—!”

“Hey, whoa, out of line, Foggy!” you interrupt. “Don’t put this on Matt like that, we both—.”

“I’m not talking to him, I’m talking to you!” he clarifies. “You know that Matt is my best friend, and you go and do this? How could you? I can’t believe you! After all the things I’ve told you, about how his is with women—.”

“Hey!”

“—how could you be so careless and reckless?”

“Excuse me—.”

“I thought you were smarter than this! I can’t believe you!”

“Foggy—.”

“I can’t even look at you. Just get out of here!”

Tears burn at my lash line as I let his words absorb into me. 

“Get out!” he repeats, the level and tone of his voice something I am thoroughly unused to. “I never want to see you again.”

You would’ve rather he just sent an open-faced slap across your face. His words and his tone cut you like a knife and are worse than any other pain you have or could ever experience. Mixed with his glare more than confirm that my best and oldest friendship has now been severed in half with no chance of reconciliation.

“Fog—,” Matt starts quietly, breaking the deathly silence in the room.

“I’m going,” you say after a moment, grabbing the clothes you can find. You don’t really care that they are Matt’s sweats—you just want to get out as fast as you can. Throwing them on and grabbing your bag, you begin to rush out of the room, only for Matt to take a few steps out to follow you.

“(Y/N)—,” he says softly, his beautiful hazel eyes desperately trying to focus on your face as his tongue darts out ever so slightly on his lips.

“I’ll see you later, Matty,” you tell him with a kiss to his cheek, as he holds your hand feet away from his door in the empty hallway.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispers, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

You squeeze it back. “No. It won’t.”

“How mad is he still?” you ask quietly as lie with Matt in bed, unable to stand the silence in the room that allows your thoughts to run wild, ramping up your anxiety over the friendship that you lost. Foggy was true to his words when he said he never wanted to see you again—he has cut you off cold in every way imaginable, from changing his route from dorm to class, to finding a new coffee shop and time to eat in the mess hall, to changing his seat in class to the other side of the room, and even going as far as to request a new partner for a project, erasing every possible venue where you could interact.

“He’s still really upset about it all,” Matt sighs. “He’s talking to me. It’s not exactly the same degree as it was, but it’s enough where we are moving back to what we were. It’s still awkward sometimes, though.”

“Does he know that we’re still together?”

“He does.” Matt pauses for a long while, his arm rubbing up and down your arm as if he’s listening to your silent question that screams through the dorm room. “We don’t talk about relationships, though.”

You let your breath hitch in your chest while your jaw tightens, a fresh wave of guilt that you haven’t felt in a long time washing over you. “I’m sorry that I’ve made things weird between you guys,” you whisper on the verge of tears.

“It’s not your fault, (Y/N).”

You snuggle down into his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. “Sure as hell feels like it.”

“He’ll move past it. It’s just gonna take time. Before you know it, it’ll be back to how it was.”

“It won’t be the same, Matt. You know that it won’t. Especially after all these months . . . it’s dead and gone and buried.”

“It will be okay, (Y/N).” When you don’t respond, Matt moves his hands down your body and situates you so you’re sitting on top of him, the covers pooling around your waist and leaving you exposed to the cold winter air that seeps in through the old windows of the dorm. “I promise you, (Y/N), that it will all be okay. And you know how I know? You and Foggy have the biggest hearts of everyone I know. There’s so much love in there, and there’s so much love that you have for one another. So when I tell you that it’s going to be okay, it will be okay.”

You give him a small smile, leaning down and taking his face in your hands, giving him a soft and sweet kiss.

“Thanks, Matt,” you whisper, brushing his hair off of his forehead.

“Hey, I know what will get that smile to grow.” With his hands on your hips, he begins to rock you back and forth along his leg, holding you down, placing just the right amount of pressure down on your hips to create the friction that you need between your legs.

“Dick,” you chuckle as he guides you along his strong, muscular leg.

“You gotta give him a minute before it’s good for either of us,” he hums, only making you laugh more. “But I got you to smile.”

“You always make me smile, Matty.”

“Ditto, angel.”

Your room fills with the slick sound of your core against his leg and your heavy breathing, the sounds only getting louder as your pace increases.

“Right there,” you breathe as he guides your hips on his thigh, soaking the skin that’s there and creating a mess between your legs. “Fuck, Matty. It’s so fucking good, baby.”

“Grab a condom, angel,” he moans. “Fuck, I gotta get in you soon. Need you, angel.”

Twisting around quickly, you go to reach for the box in your nightstand. However, you twist too quick, losing your balance and teetering off of Matt’s thigh, crashing down on the concrete floor of your dorm, your arm breaking the fall. You groan in pain, muffling the sound by keeping your mouth shut as it tries to escape your lungs, and you hold onto your forearm, a throbbing pain radiating from deep down.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Matt asks you as he gets out of the bed and helps you up.

“Fine,” you grit through your teeth. “It’s fine.”

“It doesn’t sound fine.” You wince when his hand grazes your arm. “(Y/N)—.”

“I’m okay. I just whacked my arm real good.”

“It sounded like more than that. Take the word of a blind man with really good hearing. It’s more than a whack.”

“Matty, it’s okay.”

“You really should get it checked out. It might be broken.”

“It’s not broken, Matt, trust me. Nothing Advil and ice can’t fix.”

“Sweetheart, please. That way, we can know for sure.”

“Matty—.”

“I’ll foot the bill.”

“It’s not about money, I—.”

“Go for me. It’ll make me feel better to know that a medical professional says you’re fine,” he continues. “Please, angel.”

You let out a sigh, taking in how concerned he is and how soft his features are.

“You’re gonna have to help me get dressed,” you concede.

“It’s gonna be a while,” you tell Matt as you sit back down next to him in the waiting room.

“But the forms are filled out,” he says with a little smirk. “One step down.”

“I’m telling you, Matt, it’s probably nothing.”

“And then you can rub it in my face. But at least I’ll feel better knowing you’re all right.”

“Yeah, but you’ll have an uncomfortably sore back.”

“C’mere,” he whispers, having you adjust and snuggle into his chest as you sit in the stiff, flat seats. “I always feel better when you’re on me—it’ll cancel out the shitty chairs.”

You chuckle softly, finding the sweet spot that you love to curl into. “You’re a good pillow, you know that?”

“You might have told me once or twice before.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head while he throws his coat over you like a blanket. The motion immediately brings the sleep creeping at the edge of your consciousness to the forefront, slowly taking over. “Try and sleep, angel. I’ll wake you up when they call.”

“No sleep til Brooklyn,” you smile.

“You’re hilarious,” he sighs, lightly resting his head on yours. “You still need to sleep. You were up late studying for your last final, got, what, maybe three hours of sleep? And you’ve been going all day. I’ll wake you up when they want to take you back, I promise.”

You yawn wide and snuggle into him, closing your eyes and feeling just how heavy they are. “Kay, Matty. Love you.”

You feel his hand slip into yours on on good arm. “Love you, too, angel.”

When you feel Matt gently shake you awake, you’re sure you must have only closed your eyes for a short while, but when Matt helps me up, your watch tells you that it’s several hours later.

“Want help, angel?” he asks as you slide his jacket back over to him.

“I’ve got it, Matty,” you hum, giving his lips a quick peck. “Besides, I got to prove to you that it’s all fine.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, giving the hand on your good arm a squeeze. “See you soon.”

After he listens to you get led back, Matt tunes into the orchestra of the waiting room, listening to anything and everything for a long while before something catches him off guard.

“What happened?” a familiar voice rings in Matt’s ears in the quieting ER.

“Foggy? What are you doing here?” Matt asks, standing up.

“Marci was visiting her cousin that had a baby. She saw you guys come in, said that something looked wrong.”

“(Y/N) hurt her arm. She didn’t want to come, but she was in a lot of pain. I almost had to drag her here.”

“What happened? How’d she hurt it?”

“She was trying to reach for something and overestimated the stretch. She fell off the mattress and landed hard on her arm.”

“Is it broken?” Foggy asks as he sits in your empty seat.

“I think it is,” Matt sighs, mirroring his friend’s movements. “She’s convinced she’s fine, though.”

“Of course she thinks she’s fine. She never wants to admit when she’s hurt. It’s like when she gets a cold, it’s always just—.

“Allergies’,” Matt finishes with a smirk. “Yeah. You know, she got a really bad cold about a month ago, and she would swear a blue streak that she was okay. I had to keep a bag of lozenges in my bag with a to-go Tylenol so when her fever spiked, I could give her some with some water or get her a tea from the coffee cart. I don’t know how she muscled through it. It was really bad.”

He can hear how his friend turns to look at him. “You really care about her, huh?”

“I love her, Foggy,” Matt tells him. “When I was with Elektra, I thought that was love. But being with (Y/N) . . . I know she’ll always be there. She makes me better. She helps me be who I want to be. And I’d do absolutely anything for her. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.” He tilts his head to his friend. “You know she didn’t want to date me at first? She was afraid it’d ruin our friendship, but she was more worried about how you would take it. She didn’t want to hurt your feelings. After everything . . . Fog, (Y/N)’s absolutely torn up about it.”

“You know, I’ve thought a lot about what I said to her and how I said it,” Foggy starts. “The look on her face . . . The worst thing about it all is that when I said those words, I wanted them to hurt her, and I did exactly that, and I felt good that I did. She looked so broken. By the time I wanted to try and talk to her, I burned that bridge so much I couldn’t reach her. I feel like the biggest piece of shit that there is.”

“If I know anything, it’s that (Y/N) loves you, and you and your friendship means the world to her. That bridge isn’t gone. If anything . . . The map was lost. And just because the map is lost doesn’t mean that the path over that bridge is gone for good.”

“You think so?” Foggy asks hesitantly.

“I know so. And if I know you and (Y/N) even a fraction of how well I do, things will be okay.”

“Thanks, Matt.”

“I’m just telling you the truth, man.”

As they talk in the waiting room, everything starts to feel like it used to—the ease, the comfort, the flow of conversation. After about ninety minutes, Foggy declares a quest for coffee, groaning as he stands, bemoaning just how uncomfortable the ER seats are. Shortly after Foggy disappears, Matt hears your heartbeat grow closer to the double doors you went through, the nurse giving you a list of care instructions. Matt smirks to himself while he can, taking some pride in the fact that he convinced you to get some help and prevent it from becoming worse, but willing to play none the wiser for when you come out.

“I’m not saying that you were right, only that I underestimated the severity,” you sigh as you meet Matt in the waiting room.

“What was it?” Matt asks, leaning in to kiss your cheek, but you wince when his hand is on your arm. “(Y/N), this feels like a cast.”

“Well, yes, it is. My radius and ulna are broken. But I was right, I’m fine. I’ll survive.”

“You are absolutely fit to be a lawyer,” he chuckles, kissing you once more. “When can the cast come off?”

“It’ll be off just in time for the start of the semester. No kinky sex stuff, though.”

“I’m sure we can find some kinky stuff to do that won’t hurt it. Trust me, I can get very creative.”

You laugh as he leans in for a kiss, your lips still turned into a smile as you embrace. When you pull back, you see Foggy approaching with a coffee travel tray. You immediately dip your head and avoid looking at him, unable to fight the feeling of tears that instantly bloom in your chest.  

“You still like cinnamon in your coffee, right?” Foggy asks, making you tilt your head up to look at him, his other hand extending the hot cup to you. 

“Two sugars?” you ask softly.

“No cream,” he says with a little smile. 

Taking it with your good hand, you let the cup warm you up. “Thanks, Foggy.”

“I’ll hail a taxi for us,” Matt says, pressing a kiss into your hair and then patting Foggy on the shoulder, leaving nothing but thick air between you and the person you’ve known your whole life. 

“Listen, (Y/N)—.”

“I’m sorry, Foggy,” you blurt, unable to contain it. “With Matt, we just kissed, and I didn’t want to stop kissing him, but I really didn’t want to hurt you. It was head and heart and I just froze, and I lost my best friend because of it. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about, (Y/N),” Foggy says softly, looking like he just saw a puppy get kicked. “I thoroughly overreacted. I should have been happy that my two friends were together and happy. Instead, I turned into a big brother and treated both of you like you didn’t know what you’re doing. I dunno . . . I guess I had just wished you would’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want you to be mad. And the longer I waited, well, it felt like I couldn’t tell you,” you tell him. “I’m so sorry.”

“You love him?” is all that Foggy asks.

“I really do,” you nod. “He loves me, too. He hasn’t said it, but I just have a feeling, you know?”

“Something tells me that he does, too.” His brows furrow in concern. “Can you forgive me?”

“Of course, Fog. Do you forgive me?”

“I’d wrap you in a big hug as a silent ‘You bet your bottom, I do’, but then I’d hurt your arm even more than it already is.”

“You still can,” you say with a small smile. “I’m a tough cookie. I can handle it.”

“How about when the two of you aren’t holding hot beverages?” Matt interjects as he reapproaches you.

“Attention to detail—that’s why you’ll be an excellent lawyer,” Foggy teases. 

“Thanks, man,” Matt tells him, putting his jacket around your shoulders. “Good to go, angel?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you hum.

“I say let’s go to Josie’s. Drinks on me,” Foggy says as you move to the cab. “I’ve got my best friends back—if that isn’t cause for celebration, I don’t know what is.

“You think we’ll have time?” Matt asks, feeling at his watch as you guide him into the taxi.

“I’m sure she’d keep the bar open just a little longer for her favorite patrons and retainered legal council.”

“None of us are lawyers yet, Fog,” you chuckle as Foggy tells the cabbie the address for the bar. 

“But we will be after we pass the Bar, and once we are, we’ll be her lawyers. Bingo, bango, bongo. She’ll let us have a tab and everything.”

“Dreaming big, aren’t you?” Matt laughs.

“Oh yeah, once we get that tab, we’ll be able to take over the world.”

“How about save the world?” you offer.

“Matt’s big humanitarian heart has gotten to you, I see.”

“C’mon, Fog. Who better to stick up for the little guys than three little guys from the Kitchen?”

“You make a good point. But I do counter—big office space with nice big windows and a view.”

“Well, a big office space would be nice. Windows and a view isn’t a deal breaker for me,” Matt smirks.

“We’ve got a real comedian over here.”

“All I’m saying is that if we’re helping people, does it really matter what the space is like?”

“Well, it’d be nice to have walls, floors, WiFi—ooh, no lead paint . . .”

“Okay, the space matters a little bit,” Matt and Foggy laugh as the cab comes to a halt, Matt beating you to the punch and paying the driver before you can unzip your bag.

“Regardless of its size, the space has to be in the Kitchen,” you settle. “If we’re gonna help the people, we need to be with the people.”

“Amen,” Foggy agrees, followed by Matt’s, “Here, here!” as we walk in.

“Sounds like we’ve got a future to plan,” you smile as you sit between them at the bar.

“Josie—the eel, please!” Foggy asks. “And several napkins: I’ve got some designing to do.”

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[ayeforscotland]

Big day today on the independence side of things.

Worth mentioning the Supreme Court is ruling on the current law of the UK and whether an ‘equal partner’ of the UK can exit of their own accord.

A rule against isn’t the fault of the court, it will be the fault of the UK’s inadequate constitutional law…which would further the case for why independence is important.

My gut says they won’t make a ruling in order to kick independence into the long grass which I hope ScotGov is prepared for. We’ll need to change tactics.

Edit: More detail for clarity

#ayeforscotland #scottish politics #scottish independence #british politics #uk politics