#My crown of thorns is blooming! ->

[sailorcheese]

don’t get too excited everyone but I think my African violets are going to bloom this week

#I say to an empty room #my crown of thorns is blooming rn though and that makes me so happy

[witchembrace]

part one of the roster !!!!!!! dont ask how many of these i'm going to need because not even i know. 1/???

#ashaf — lay my curses out to rest. #angela anne huell — the eternal witch. #dunward l. colvect — a fallen king wears no crown. #oscar orlencia — here comes the sun ; descending from the great. #phanora kristoffel — adorned in ice ; rising like the dead. #anya forger — telepathic toddler. #becky blackbell — it's a rich kid's world. #damian desmond — an unloved boy who seeks a mother's love. #loid forger — the embrace of twilight protects you. #yor forger — every rose has its thorns. #ada vessalius — disciplined sister. #echo baskerville — je suis à vous. #noise baskerville — je suis en amour. #lacie baskerville — we were there in everlasting bloom. #reim lunettes — a false death & the pull of a trigger. #sharon rainsworth — roses bloom for the youngest heiress. #xerxes break — then a mad heart will stain everything.

[loonarmuunar]

Pauper, protector, prince.

I wanted to give a proper tribute to the chokehold of a broken family bond by @dekupalace! So. Take this‼️‼️

Extra under cut!!

Some contrived stuff bfkgk:

Siffrin’s head is turned up, towards the crown. A reference to how Siffrin mentions many times how he has to loop up higher and higher to see the King.

Flowers resembling the party! This is a reference to another fic, Bloom! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE check it out!! Siffrin is crushing the flowers under his heels.

The flower in Siffrin’s hair is a nadine jessie, a type of dahlia. Obviously supposed to represent Nadine, but I wanted it specifically in Siffrin’s hair bc of the festival :) (couldn’t get it on their hat bc of the angle lol)

Siffrin holds a rose tucked between his palm and thumb, representing the King. I chose a rose, because of its connection to theatre, and its thorns.

Siffrin’s pose is knightly in nature, but without a sword or any grand weapon. They hide their dagger behind their back, alluding to the role he’s supposed to play. He is a knight, a protector, without any of the grace or nobility.

Siffrin faces away from the stars, and his face is shadowed, kinda alluding to Siffrin’s doubts of if this is really the right thing, if they are truly doing what the universe wants. Siffrin is, literally, turning their back to the stars.

Songbirds- I talked about this in a comment, but basically in my mind Siffrin taking the plunge into having to assassinate Mirabelle kinda reminds me of Eurydice from Hadestown agreeing to go to Hadestown.

The songbirds are specifically loggerhead shrikes, songbirds that impale their prey on sharp things like brambles and wire. Beforehand they paralyze their prey by biting down on the spinal cord with their tomial tooth. This made me think of King’s time craft freezing, or “paralyzing” Vaugarde.

I was inspired by this wonderful animatic for it! Also I just really love birds and will take ANY chance to include them in a drawing. (and Loggerhead shrikes translate very well to a desaturated color scheme—)

The king’s hair is staining from white to black/black to white, like Nadine’s hair dye.

ANYWAYS!!! YEAH!!! This is kinda a love letter, so to speak, for this fic, but to these fanworks in general :) If you haven’t already seen them, please check out these wonderful and creative works. I absolutely adore them all, and they deserve love!!

#yippeeee #my art #isat #in stars and time #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #THIS TOOK. 8 3/4 HOURS I’M GONNA PASS OUT NOW YIPPEE #siffrin isat #isat siffrin #siffrin fanart #in stars and time siffrin #isat siffrin fanart #isat fanart #in stars and time fanart #tagging the others bc I will Die if people don’t see this #bonnie isat #odile isat #mirabelle isat #isabeau isat #king isat #the king isat #i love shading metal.. #was fighting for my life with the shading angles

[kc5rings]

So she kinda got glanced over in the new chapter excitement but uh, I think we all need to take a real close look at Vendela, the new healer

5 star incantation medic! Neat! She seems to have a spinning sawblade on her healing staff which is concerning but not that out of pocket for Rhodes, let’s look a little closer and-

Oh.

Oh she’s a little fucked up actually

We know those eyes, we know them very well

The only person with eyes like that to my knowledge is our very own Amiya.

Things only get more concerning when you look at her headpiece, that is what appears to be a crown that is half “Civilight Eterna” and half “White Flower Crown.” Two of the more concerning IS collectibles

Civilight doesn’t need much introduction, we know it’s bad news but the white flower crown’s description is no less concerning

“Used in Vampire rituals it’s once vibrant redness has been sucked empty”

When Vendela uses her abilities in game, the flowers on her crown pulse from red back to white as she deals damage to enemies and pumps health into allies

All of these alarming implications lead me to a terrifying theory, that for her sake I hope is wrong

She’s also a Chimera.

The Sanguinarch is trying to make his own heir to the throne, one with Vampire ancestry, to claim dominion over all Sarkaz

And he’s draping this poor woman in thorned rose vines with drained dry blooms to do it

#arknights #arknights spoilers #CN spoilers #I noticed the crown and then started noticing more about her design and things started clicking in place #I get the feeling this ladies story is gonna be a rough one #Vendela

[exactlycleverpirate]

Timeline from Xavier's Perspective Part 1

EDIT: This has been updated to include the endings of all myths as well as some other information.

(Includes spoilers for basically everything, including all myths.)

This is an update of my earlier post. Part 2 here.

If you are interested in more speculation than facts, check out my Half-baked Theories and Wild Theories About Rafayel. For an in-depth exploration of Rafayel’s story, see What Happened to Lemuria and Rafayel and Rafayel's Timeline Redux Part 1. For current game story see Love and Deepspace: the Story So Far Part 1.

Timeline from Xavier's perspective (Part 1/Philos):

Xavier is born on Philos. He is the Crown Prince of the royal family. Life is connected to the core of Philos, making him and most people on Philos immortal while the planet remains. Philos has a fake core that is holding together the separate tectonic plates of former Earth. Travel between these plates is difficult (no oceans?).

214 PT (Philos Time) Xavier went to school with MC in year 214, which is 214 years after the destruction of earth. MC has a fatal heart condition. Some of the professors lived on Earth before its destruction. Xavier is under constant guard and has little freedom. (Anecdote 3)

217 PT MC and Xavier become friends and fall in love. She gives him the star charm tassel that she made.

Xavier finds out MC is dying. They go on a date to see a meteor shower by a salt flat. After this, Xavier disappears for a month.

MC escapes the hospital to go to the salt flat. Xavier finds her there and has the protocore that is supposed to be able to save her, but it is too late. She dies in his arms. Xavier promises to seek her out in her future lives.

Zayne's Myth. Zayne guards the Creatio protocore in a frozen tower as a Foreseer of Astra. The royal family sends him emissaries seeking a prophecy every 100 years, but they never return. MC is a gardener with a fatal heart condition and is seeking the Creatio protocore to save her life. (Is this the same protocore that Xavier found in her first life on Philos?) Zaybe says if she can make the jasmine on the balcony of the Tower bloom, she can go free.

MC and Zayne have been stuck in a loop, where MC seeks out the Creatio to heal her dying heart, Zayne falls in love with her, she dies, his memories are erased (but preserved as fragments in an illusory jasmine garden), and she is reincarnated to do it all again. This is happening because of some sort of resonance link between MC and the Creatio, which makes it so the Creatio can power itself by draining her life.

After the jasmine on the tower blooms, Zaybe remembers what has happened to them in the past. Zayne breaks the cycle by fusing the Creatio to MC's heart, healing her. He is then locked in an eternal slumber in the Tower of Thorns behind an eternal blizzard as punishment by Astra. MC is free, and her heart appears to be healed, but she can no longer get to Zayne.

30,000 PT Assuming the seas dried up when Earth was destroyed and became Philos, Rafayel's Myth takes place around this time. MC was born from the depths of the earth. She has a special heart that makes the people of Philos immortal and is guarded in a palace, treated as a princess, and not allowed to leave.

Child MC is gifted a young Rafayel as a Lemurian slave. She sets him free. (Rafayel later tells her he allowed himself to be caught on purpose.)

MC meets Rafayel as adults while she is attempting to escape the palace. He helps her. They continually meet up and she learns he was the boy she released as a child. Rafayel, Amund, and other Lemurians are killing human nobles. Rafayel tells MC this is not out of revenge, but rather somehow part of an effort to restore Lemuria/the oceans. MC asks how she and Rafayel can be bound as he never gave her one of his scales. He says their bond was formed when the oceans still existed. MC has vague memories of living in a hut on the Island of Songs surrounded by ocean. 

Rafayel and Amund are plotting to recover “the God of the Sea’s (Rafayel’s) heart from MC by cutting it out with a dagger on the Island of Songs. However, the heart must be given willingly. Rafayel is uncertain whether the legends are true about killing MC to restore the oceans and Lemuria. Per the legend, the goal seems to be attaining Absolute Power. According to the legend, “Lemurians who seeketh Absolute Power: Combat the treacherous tides. Dive into The Deep for pearls. Find a true love. When blessed with a true love’s kiss, claim her heart by your own hand. A heart, pure, flawless-and filled with love. It is the best offering humans can give to Lemurians. -Lemurian Ruins, Slate No. 0065, Lemuria: Tome of the Sea God”. (Amund has served multiple Gods of the Sea over the centuries. Are these all reincarnations of Rafayel or are there multiple Gods of the Sea?)

6 months after Rafayel and MC celebrate her birthday, he and Amund take her to the Island of Songs, which she recognizes. She remembers her past life with Rafayel and realizes that Rafayel will fall into eternal slumber and the seas will never be restored if she does not return his heart. She offers to cut it out, but Rafayel refuses, saying he and the Lemurians will have to find their own way to change to story. He attempts to erase her memories and sever their bond to save her. Rafayel calls her his beloved bride.

MC is returned to the palace with no memories of Rafayel, but she watches the blue fish he gave her when they were young and slowly begins to remember. Hearing that the Lemurians are on the verge of being captured, and remembering that Rafayel intends to leave, she runs out of the city to find him, her memories and their bond once more intact.

Unsure how to resolve things, they set out on a camel across the desert to find Whalefall City. Amund is with them. Rafayel suggests that somehow by going to Whalefall City, he’ll be able to show her the sea. (Based on the Tender Moment, Whalefall Lament, it seems likely that Whalefall City is the name of the Lemurian city under the sea that Rafayel grew up in as a child on Earth.) The blue fish in the palace turns into a scale, presumably the one he gifted her to form their bond.

Xavier meets MC again at a Philos Academy as knights in training, sometime near the end of Philos’ life as a planet. Jeremiah goes to the Academy too. Xavier is the Crown Prince, but avoids returning to the royal family, remaining at the Academy instead.

During his Gladius Ceremony in the Starfall Forest, Xavier discovers that the forest contains the hollow heart of Philos and consumes people to power the long-dead core. This creates Wanderers. Xavier realizes protocores used to contain hearts. MC notices his attitude/demeanor changes noticeably after this trial. He rejects his role of Crown Prince after this.

The king dies, and Xavier disappears for about 200 years. 

MC and Xavier meet up again while investigating Starfall Forest. Jeremiah is part of MC’s squad. Xavier reveals what he learned about the forest to MC. He tells her that the royal family used to send human sacrifices into the forest. Then they discovered a truly immortal person who could die and come to life over and over, continually powering the planet. MC does not realize he is talking about her. She realizes the woman who gave him the star tassel is the same woman who reincarnates.

Xavier begins planning a backtracking expedition through spacetime in order to find a way to save MC and Philos. Jeremiah decides to join the team. MC decides to stay and become Queen to protect the people of Philos until Xavier can return. Xavier says that when he returns, he will be her knight. She gives him her little star badge, saying she knows that it can't replace the star tassel. He tells her only one person has ever given him a little star, but she doesn't understand what he means.

Xavier leaves MC’s service, and she fakes his death, claiming he died with honors. He is viewed as a traitor by the people of Philos. MC does not believe he will ever return.

Timejump.

See Part 2 here for Earth Timeline

A thought: Is the reason that MC is considered the only true immortal because she has or is connected to Rafayel/The God of the Sea’s heart? Lemurians appear to be naturally immortal, though not undying.

#love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #xavier #zayne #rafayel

[merakiui]

After seeing some lovely fanart of Jade, I thought of a Forest Lord AU

One in which the reader is on the run and stumbles into an enchanted forest that seems fine on the outside but is actually the domain of the forest god, Jade! When they encounters him,, he promises to grant their wish of freedom. Everything seems to go well in their life from then on but there’s something lurking around reader that they can’t shake. I can’t imagine Jade would grant wishes without wanting something in return >_< when the reader returns wondering why they’re starting to feel unsafe again, is when he reveals he can keep them safe permanently. With him! :D

Jade wanting your firstborn child in return, but the surprise is that he's the one knocking you up..............

Forest god!Jade who keeps you trapped in a little prison of brambles and branches. <3 the more you struggle, the sharper and tighter they get, enclosing on all sides until you're confined in such a tight space. They'll loosen and retreat if you stop acting so difficult, but Jade thinks you need to learn a lesson first. He'll patch up any scratches you might garner from the thorns.

Forest god!Jade who makes the prettiest flora bloom for you. There are flowers you've never even seen before, each more mystical than the last. He's especially fond of mushrooms. They have a tendency to pop up around him whenever he's in a bad mood, growing in abundant clusters, but if he's happy the grass is greener and the flowers are blossoming in an array of bright, beautiful colors.

Forest god!Jade who always blends into the domain in which he inhabits. Donning a mossy cloak, a crown of twigs, clothes stitched together from leaves, he looks so lithe and dainty. It catches you by surprise when that same sweet-looking god turns out to be quite fearsome if you incur his ire...

Forest god!Jade who conjures toadstool seats for you and him to sit down on for a tea party in a comfortable clearing in the forest. The trees are tall and thick, surrounding you on all sides. You feel trapped, but Jade just smiles at you and pours you another cup of dandelion tea.

Intruders who stray too deep into his domain are dealt with at once. Jade has fun toying with them, pawing them around as if he's a cat and they're unfortunate mice. You ask him if he absolutely must do this every time. He smiles at you: "Am I not repaying the favor? If they can spend days trampling on my flora and hunting my fauna, then they can spend a dozen more clinging to a wasted life." There is sadistic glee in those mismatched eyes of his... You remind yourself to never get on his bad side unless you want to spend the last remaining slivers of your life trapped and walking aimlessly through a creepy, enchanted forest.

#twisted chit chat #yandere twst

[etheries1015]

Hello there! I was wondering if you could write a Meleanor x reader.

It could be any kind of scenario i don't really have specific request. Sorry if my english is bad, it's not my first language btw.

Have a nice day/afternoon/evening!!

Sorry for the late response! Slowly but surely getting to my inbox after my little hiatus. heuheuheu.

I like this!! I can't say I've seen a Meleanor X reader yet! I love Mama Draconia and I too would want to court this woman. heuehueheu. thank you for this request!

Meleanor X reader - Flower crowns

General warnings: Gender neutral reader, taking place when you two were younger. Not very age specific, just classify it as first love!

TW: None! Just fluff. and lightning. but tis' what comes with falling in love with this hot headed fae <3

The princess always left you in awe. Her beautiful black long hair and marks of a dragon across her forehead always left you enamored- her beauty was beyond compare to that of any other fae you set your eyes upon. Although she did have a temper...and often attempted to strike you with lightning every time your feeble pick-up lines were below her standards...

However, the only thing you could think of as you watched the fae princess sitting against the tree was how ethereal she would look with vibrant flowers adorning her slick black hair and midnight horns. Meleanor was asleep against the tree, while you were now sitting on the grass a bit of a distance away with your legs folded and flowers in your grasp.

You wouldn't classify as being the best flower crown weaver to exist. It took a few times of unraveling and re-wrapping, even having to venture out into the woods to grab more flowers. Finally, you have finished creating your masterpiece. A flower crown with a vibrant variety of colors. Forget-me-nots, daisies, petals from peonies, marigolds, begonias, and the ever-so-popular red roses and thorns to match. You glanced down at your handiwork and looked back up to the sleeping fae. Even underneath the dusk of the setting sun, she was breathtakingly stunning. You crawled up to the fae crown in hand, before lifting it carefully above her sleeping form and setting it gently upon her head careful not to rouse her from her deep sleep.

You simply basked in this moment, watching Meleanors chest raise slightly and parted lips exhale gently. You were surprised when she hadn't woken up with your rustling, so you decided she must truly be exhausted from her duties (of constantly running away from her knight's eyes simply to be with you). You also found yourself yawning, removing your own jacket to cover the princess before leaning against the other side of the tree and lulling into sleep rather quickly.

You were woken up by lightning.

It startled you awake, but your reflexes were fast enough to dodge before it made contact. Looking up you saw a tall, angry Meleanor standing above you with her hands upon her hips and a scowl upon her face with bright rosey cheeks to match.

"Explain what this is," She abruptly said, pointing to the crown on her head to which a few petals had fallen to her black cloak and royal dress. You pursed your lips then smiled, showing her a toothy grin.

"A flower crown," You replied, "You look lovely, like a gorgeous blooming garden. The flowers truly do flatter you, my princess."

You were struck by lightning. Again. And she missed, again.

"Save me from your silly theatrics and cease your horrible flirting!" Although the words she spoke were exasperated, you could tell by the blush on her cheeks that she did not, in fact, dislike what transpired. Your words affected her greatly, she wasn't sure how to handle her strong emotions and beating heart. You chuckled at this and stood up, your hands hiding behind your back. This movement did not go unnoticed by the princess.

Meleanor aggressively grabbed your arm and pulled it forward. Upon seeing the first hand, she grabbed the other one to do the same. They were riddled in cuts and bruises from handling the thorned roses and picking of flowers, her eyes widening at this revelation.

"Come here," She grunted, pulling your arm and dragging you to the castle doors.

"You know i'm not allowed in the castle," You sighed, "I'm just a commoner. They will kick me out as soon as I step foot inside of there. AND you're gonna get in trouble with your parents." Meleanor huffed and shot you an annoyed glance, grey clouds overhead an obvious marker of her mood.

"Do you not think I am already aware of this fact? I have many ways of getting inside the castle away from prying eyes. Now shut your mouth and trust me!"

"Awe...does the princess have a soft spot for poor me? Are you going to kiss my wounds all better, Meleanor?"

Although another blast of lightning interrupted your incredulous flirting, she pursed her lips and paused in the middle of heading toward her secret entrance.

"...Perhaps just this once." You furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head in confusion, mouth hung slightly open. You couldn't see what expression the princess held, for she was turned away whilst her hand remained on your arm trembling ever so slightly. Before you could inquire her statement, she continued.

"As a reward for this...'flower crown'...I shall grant you your wish. Just this once!" The fae took a deep breath in and turned around to face you, face red as a rose and puckered lips she placed them against your own. You gasped in shock at the sudden contact, unable to form a proper reaction before she was already turned back around and pulling you towards the castle at a rapid pace. You smiled fondly staring at the rambunctious fae in front of you, the flowers of the crown you weaved fluttering with every step she took.

If only she could hear just how loud your heart was beating.

~~~

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #meleanor draconia #meleanor x reader #meleanor draconia x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland fanfics #twst headcannons #twisted wonderland headcannons #twisted wonderland fanfictions #twisted wonderland meleanor #i'm gonna be so real right now I had a horrible time trying to figure out how to end this #I hope it was satisfactory! #I love this woman. I love women. Ugh. #Maybe i'll write one...I can see it now- an unrequited love between female reader and meleanor #my heart hurts just thinking about it WAHHH

[overlordraax]

Oh no! I nearly forgot to post up this for SkyStar Week! Here is another one of my pieces for the SkyStar Community Zine. I always say I want more fantasy au's so decided to do one based on Sleeping Beauty. Do enjoy! And Happy SkyStar Week!

-

Image description: A one page comic of Skyfire and Starscream from Transformers. The comic is based on Sleeping Beauty and has them in a Medieval Europe inspired setting. The panel boarders are all done in gold, and the first panel is surrounded by thorns with tiny murals depicting their altmodes in the corners. In the first panel Starscream is lying asleep on a bed, a blanket draped over his legs. He is wearing his crown and cape. Skyfire comes through the door, looking concerned for Starscream.

In a few close up shots we can see Starscream opening his optic to see Skyfire, then closing them again and pretending to be asleep. Then Skyfire leans forward and kisses Starscream, the two of the lighting up as they do. They hold hands as they do.

Then in the next few panels as they separate Starscream pulls Skyfire’s helm closer to kiss again, before he drags Skyfire back onto the bed. The panel boarder also shows roses blooming from the thorns. End description.

#Skyfire #Starscream #SkyStar #Transformers #Maccadam #Fantasy au #my art #Jetfire #Sleeping Beauty #image described #SkyStar Week

[elains]

Fionn's death, the Bog of Oorid and the Mask

I'm currently on my Sarah J. Maas brainrot era and chatting with my friends earlier, I drew a parallel which soon turned into a deep dive into ACOSF, HoFaS, and some mythology to boot. Worry not, I’ll keep the mythology part to myself first and foremost and this post will mostly revolve around the following: that the current state of the Bog of Oorid is due to Fionn’s death.

Spoilers for House of Flame and Shadow, so be warned. 

In ACOSF, Amren tells us about the Bog of Oorid and how it wasn’t always this evil, accursed place. It used to be a sacred ground, where warriors of the Fae were laid to rest, long ago:

The Bog is a part of the Middle, which is mostly uncharted territory full of dangerous creatures, where Wild Magic runs unbound. A council of Ancient High Lords prohibited any mappings of it. We also learn from House of Flame and Shadow that the Middle was the Daglan's personal hunting grounds, where they unleashed beasts they bred to serve as worthy prey:

We know for a fact that Fionn was in a Marsh - a bog - when he died, with islands and grass and black waters, and we also know that the place was blooming when he was there. Even with the amount of evil and beasts kept in the Middle, the land was still thriving:

This is a sharp contrast to present day ACOTAR. In Silver Flames, the Bog is described as oppressively still and dead, all gnarly, leaflesss branches branches, crumbling trees, thorns. There are no birds, no insects. It's a place of death, of Evil, and it's remarked how it's as if not anything bloomed:

House of Flame and Shadow provides this passage just after Fionn dies:

Also from Flame and Shadow, we knows that the worlds have souls and degrees of sentience, as far as worlds go. Fionn is murdered in a foul act of violence, fueled by nothing but hunger for power by the very people who were supposed to aid him. Fionn, who worked to free the world from the Daglan feeding on its magic. It seems to me that the world was thankful to him for what he did, as it might have also been thankful to Theia.

And you know what's more interesting? That this is where the Mask ends up. We don't know what in the world happened to the Mask after Theia left Prythian; it's not said what she did with neither it nor the crown. Presumably other people got ahold of them (Helion's ancestor?). We don't know where the Crown was, but it's ironic that it ends up where Fionn died.

When approaching the water, Nesta remembers a story her mother told of how a cosuin was killed by Faeries, dragged to the depths and drowned:

Which is actually very similar with how Fionn himself comes to meet his end: bound and gagged and thrown into the water by his wife and general. Shortly after, she meets the Kelpie, who is described as such:

This is also remarkably similar to the creature that ultimately kills Fionn:

This Kelpie speaks to Nesta in the Old Tongue, which hasn't been spoken in fifteen thousand years. It retreated to the Bog thousands of years ago and it was probably the last o his kind. It could very well be the creature that killed Fionn, slain by Nesta, who goes to claim the Mask as he himself did.

Which brings up some questions: how did the Mask end up in the Bog of Oorid? It doesn't seem happenstance that it found its way to a place where death has in its grip and the open grave of the High King. Could it have been Helion's ancestor? His reaction to the mask is strange, visceral in a way the other's aren't. I'm betting that it was Helion's ancestors who took the Mask from Theia and once the power proved too much, discarded it to rest in Oorid.

But the point is that Fionn dies and it's the nail in the coffin for Oorid. The Bog withers to a giant, accursed grave, trapped in a state of perpetual death where nothing blooms.

Therein rests the first and last High King, the evil done to him forever imprinted on the land.

#acotar #acosf #hofas spoilers #fionn #nesta archeron #my meta #i just thought it interesting that the mask SOMEHOW finds its way to Fionn's death place

[theostrophywife]

fuck about it.

masterlist (azriel x reader) request: @margssstuff hii ok I have an Az request where it’s like enemy to lover and they both get on each others nerves. They’re on a mission or in a highly intense situation where they are both yelling at each other and she slaps him (maybe people witness idk) & he reacts by fiercely kissing her and then they fuck HAHA author's note: happy halloween, please have this filthy enemies to lovers fic as a gift from yours truly. like the title suggests, this piece was inspired by fuck about it by waterparks. warning: dagger to the throat, knife play, exhibitionism, overstimulation, edging. over all smut galore.

The divine scent of roses and twilight fills the air while you stroll through the castle garden with your gloved hand tucked into the elbow of the Crown Prince of Rask. The cool breeze whistles through the handsome male’s long, silver hair as he offers you a scarlet rose, taking great care into making sure that its thorns don't snag on your satin glove. 

It would’ve been a romantic moment had it not been for the shadowsinger glaring at the prince’s back. Even without his shadows, Azriel’s looming presence put a damper on the mood. You couldn’t for the life of you understand why Rhysand sent the broody, Illyrian warrior to be your escort during your visit to Rask, but the High Lord had been adamant on pairing you up for this mission. 

When the Crown Prince extended his invitation to the Crystal Castle, you primed and primped yourself to be the most charming, irresistible female he’d ever lay his eyes on in order to secure the alliance between the Night Court and Rask, but you could only do so much with Azriel’s scowl constantly eclipsing every interaction. 

The Illyrian male trails a few steps behind, dressed in his dark leathers with his wings high upon his back, looking every bit the part of the lethal warrior that he was. As your eyes meet, his lips twist into a sharp frown while his hazel gaze settles over you. You flash a glare of warning at Azriel before turning your attention back to your escort. 

“Thank you for giving me a tour of the private gardens. Your home is truly lovely.” 

“It is I who should thank you for granting me the pleasure of your company, my lady.” The Crown Prince smiles, patting your gloved hand while you continue your leisurely stroll. Emerald eyes twinkle with mischief as he briefly glances at the winged warrior hovering a few feet away. “Though I’m not sure I can say the same about your companion.” 

A flash of doubt blooms on the male’s features as he examines the obvious tension in the shadowsinger’s stance. “Are you two…”

“No,” you answer at once.

Azriel stiffens, but says nothing as shadows twist menacingly over his broad shoulders. Despite the fact that you were both under Rhysand’s employ, you steered clear of the shadowsinger and vice versa. You two were polar opposites: you were loud and headstrong while Azriel was quiet and reserved. The few times that you were both assigned to the same mission, the two of you had clashed so badly that Rhys avoided putting you together at all cost.

Unfortunately, you had no choice but to tolerate Azriel’s company during this trip since you wouldn’t be able to successfully navigate Rask without him. He knew the intricacies of this Court and you relied on his knowledge to keep you afloat in this kingdom’s political climate. 

Besides strategizing and advising, the shadowsinger makes himself scarce throughout the week long mission, but still adheres to his task of escorting you. It was entirely unnecessary since you were more than capable of protecting yourself should the need arise, but customs were different in this kingdom and it was highly unacceptable for a lady to be wandering through the night with a male who was not her betrothed. Even if it was the Crown Prince.

You smile sweetly. “Don’t mind Azriel. We’re simply adhering to the practices of your court. After all, I wouldn’t want to break any rules.” The wink you sent his way makes the male chuckle. 

“Somehow I highly doubt that you’re the type to be chained down by archaic traditions.” 

“I’ve been known to be…free-spirited and strong willed. Though I’m sure you’ll soon come to realize that for yourself, my prince.” 

The Crown Prince chuckles. “So I’m learning.” Moonlight gleams against the silver locks draped over his shoulder, each twisting braid representing the number of battles he’s won. Another proud custom of Rask. “And please, call me Rhaegar.” 

“Well then Rhaegar,” you say with a charming smile. “I do hope you’ve given more consideration to the High Lord’s proposition.” 

“Ever the diplomat. I must admit, Rhysand’s proposal of peace grows more and more enticing with each passing second, though that may have more to do with his lovely ambassador.” 

There was something mischievous in that smile of his. The royal was undoubtedly handsome. Rumor has it that nearly every powerful family in the Continent sought to secure his hand in marriage, but the male had yet to take a bride. While you weren’t here to find yourself a groom, you were intrigued by Rhaegar. You’ve never had a prince before. You wondered if the noble would fold just as easily as any other male once you sank your teeth into him. 

“I’m glad to hear that you’re enjoying our time together. I’ve been told that I can be rather persuasive.” 

The Crown Prince grins. “Excuse my assumptions, but you are nothing like the other diplomats I’ve met with in the past. They’ve always been old, haggard males more interested in me wedding and bedding their daughters rather than establishing peace amongst our kingdoms. I have a feeling that you have no intention of demanding marriage out of me.” 

You raise a brow. “Like you said, I’m not the type to be chained down by archaic traditions. Perhaps when all is said and done, I can show you how…liberating our ideals are in the Night Court.” 

Rhaegar chuckles. “You’re absolutely wicked, my lady.” He takes your gloved hand and kisses it. “Tell Rhysand that I look forward to seeing what he has in store for my kingdom, especially if your visit is any indication of our growing relations.” 

“This is merely a taste, Rhaegar. The Night Court and I have much more to offer,” you say seductively.

The royal grins as his gaze dips down towards your wicked mouth. While this mission was important, Rhysand never said you weren’t allowed to have fun on top of securing this alliance. As Rhaegar closes the gap between you, your eyes flutter close in anticipation, but instead of the prince’s mouth on yours, the shadowsinger’s grating voice is what cuts through the tension.

“Perhaps it’s time to retire,” Azriel declares in a cold voice. He doesn’t even bother looking at you as he addresses Rhaegar. “I should escort my lady to her bedchambers. We have an early start tomorrow.”

For the most part, you tolerated Azriel’s presence because it was a required portion of your employment in the Night Court, but the shadowsinger meddling in your affairs like this with the Crown Prince of all people, it simply wouldn’t do.

“I can find my own way back, Azriel.”

The shadowsinger turns towards you, his handsome face bathed in moonlight and wrath. The inky smoke of his shadows swallow every trace of light as he levels his intense golden gaze at you. 

“I insist, my lady. I wouldn’t want anything untoward to happen to you under my watch.” 

The second your eyes meet, you could see something churning within the shadowsinger's hazel irises, but you refuse to balk. The spymaster might be used to everyone else backing down from that intimidating stare of his, but you were determined to show him that not even the Mother herself could get you to back down. The dark, brooding act may be working for him thus far, but tonight is the night that Azriel finally meets his match. 

As you continue in your unflinching staring game with Azriel, the Crown Prince pats your gloved hand with an amused smile. 

“The shadowsinger is right, my lady. We should all get some rest. There’s plenty of work to be done,” he gallantly bows, pressing a kiss to your gloved hand. With a devious twinkle in those emerald eyes, he shoots you a wink. “Perhaps we’ll play another time.”

You didn’t miss the eye roll that was Azriel’s response. Rhaegar bids you both farewell before striding to the opposite side of the castle where his private living quarters were located. Not bothering to spare the shadowsinger a glance, you stalk away to the east wing where your accommodations were. His footsteps are silent, but you knew that the male was following closely behind. Unfortunately for you, the Crown Prince had placed you and Azriel in adjoining rooms. 

It was then that you decided that you’d have to have a serious discussion with Rhysand about never putting you and Azriel together again. It was bad enough to have to endure his broody mood, but getting in your way? That was absolutely unacceptable. You walk in silence as annoyance and indignation simmers through your veins, pushing through the ornate wooden doors and nearly taking it off its hinges as you slam it shut behind you. Azriel caught the fullness of your rage as you spin around to face him. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

The winged warrior doesn't appear the least bit bothered as you point an accusing finger at him. He crosses his arms and you narrow your eyes as his siphons cast a cobalt blue light around the dark room. 

“Escorting you,” Azriel drawls lazily. “Though babysitting is the more accurate term.”

“You do realize that you could jeopardize this whole mission by acting like an insufferable prick towards the Crown Prince?” 

“As opposed to what?” Azriel sneers, leveling a lethal gaze at you. “Throwing myself at him?” 

Red spots blur your vision at his words. Rage - hot and burning pulsates through your entire body as you close the gap between you, prodding at the chest plate of his Illyrian armor. 

“What is your fucking problem, Azriel?” The male blinks. “Ever since Rhysand brought me into the fold, you’ve been acting like an absolute ass. What is it about me that unnerves you so? Is your ego honestly so fragile that you cannot bear to have another spy to compete with?”

“The competition is not my concern,” Azriel bites back. “It’s you. You’re my fucking problem. I told Rhys that working together on this mission was a horrendous idea."

You scoff, crossing your arms. "And you think that I'm clambering at the chance to get sent halfway across the realm with only you as company? Get over yourself, Azriel."

"Me?" Azriel asks indignantly. "You're the one parading yourself in front of this entire court. I've had to endure an entire week of you practically drooling over Rhaegar without a hint of shame."

“I am only doing what Rhysand hired me to do. I don’t see you making any advances towards winning this kingdom over to our cause. The only thing you’ve accomplished during our stay here is being a gigantic pain in my ass.” 

Azriel catches your wrist as you lift it up to his face, curling his scarred fingers around your hand with a firm grip. “Yet you need me to navigate your way through this court.” 

“Don’t be so sure, shadowsinger. At this rate, I’d risk taking this court on by myself if only to be rid of your pestering.” 

He sneers. “I’m sure you’d jump at the chance to be alone with the silver haired bastard.”

You snatch your wrist out of his hand, taking a deep breath before committing a serious act of violence against the Illyrian male. “I have tried to be civil, but I cannot take it any more. This bullshit may fly back home, but when we’re out here in the middle of an important mission, we’re supposed to be a team. That means that you either learn how to work with me or get the fuck out of my way.” 

“Or what?” The shadowsinger asks quietly, the menacing tone of his voice matching the cold, calculated expression on his face. “What will you do, princess?”

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Why?” Azriel says, standing taller still and overshadowing you. “You seem eager to earn the title by spreading your legs for Rhaegar.” 

Against better judgment, you slap Azriel across the face with a forceful smack. The sound echoes in the room and you barely have time to process the fact that you just slapped the feared spymaster in the face before Azriel was pushing you up against the wall. 

Both of his scarred hands slam down on either side of your head as he cages you in. Shadows thrum through his powerful form as his wings flare behind his back, spreading wide and cocooning you in its red and gold membrane. 

Tension stretches taut between you as your chest heaves up and down with heavy breaths. A flash of anger graces that irritatingly handsome face of his and  the sliver of light streaming through the window hugs every plane of Azriel’s sharp cheekbones, slashing through those nearly feral hazel irises. There was nothing but heat in his eyes - a dark and dangerous challenge that seems to beckon you forth.

“And if I were to spread my legs for the Prince, what is it to you?” you grit out, meeting his unyielding gaze. 

“You won’t be doing that tonight, sweetheart.” Azriel declares as his fingers clutch your jaw, tilting your chin up. 

Understanding floods you all at once when you behold the ravenous glint in his eyes. “Mother above, is this the reason why you’ve been an absolute prick to me all this time?” You curl your fingers through his wrist, smirking as Azriel’s breath hitches from the contact. “You want me. You want me badly that you loathe yourself for it.”

“I despise you,” Azriel says unconvincingly. 

You press your body against his, pleased to find his erection protruding upon your midsection. The push and pull of this dangerous little game thrums through your body. “Your mouth says one thing, but your cock says another.”

Azriel hisses as you palm the front of his leathers. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, princess.”

“Since you robbed me of my only opportunity of finishing tonight, I think it’s only fair to tease. I enjoy making you squirm, shadowsinger.” 

“You’re a cruel, sadistic little creature.” 

“Then why don’t you punish me?”

The shadowsinger smacks the wall behind you, rattling the painting hanging beside your head. “Tell me that this is a horrible idea. That we should both walk away before we do something incredibly stupid.”

You twine your fingers behind his neck, bringing him down to your level. “Why should we try to fight it? Isn’t this what you wanted all along? To have me at your mercy?” 

Azriel chuckles, his warm breath washing over you in a delicious embrace. “You are my dearest punishment.” 

The crimson slash of your grin is nothing short of feral. “Good. I intend to make it hurt.” 

“For the record, this is exactly why I told Rhys that putting us together was a terrible idea. I knew I couldn't fucking resist you,” he whispers against your ear. “That I couldn’t be this close to you without thinking about doing this all day, every day. But he didn’t listen, so neither will I.” 

Every nerve in your body awakens at his touch and a jolt of electricity shoots up from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet while Azriel’s face dips down to yours. His scarred fingers twine through your thick hair as he positions you just where he wants you, with lips parted and lids heavy as your lower abdomen churns with need. 

Without warning, Azriel snakes his arms around your waist and hoists you up onto the wall as his perfect pink lips come crashing down on yours. For a moment you felt like the entire realm has tilted off its axis because there was no plausible reason why the shadowsinger tastes this heavenly, like a mixture of dark desire and forbidden wishes, but it doesn’t take long for you to accommodate him as you eagerly wrap your legs around his waist and kiss him back with fervent passion. 

You moan into his mouth as he grips your thighs, positioning you on top of a wooden dresser as you clamber to clear whatever was sitting on its surface. Azriel chuckles darkly, its sinful timbre sounding like absolute music to your ears. 

“I fucking knew it,” he declares as you press open mouthed kisses along his jaw. “You want me just as much as I want you.” 

The comment spurs you on as you slide your hands down the front of his leathers, kissing his neck as a distraction while you reach for the blade sheathed into his thigh. The shadowsinger groans at the feel of your velvet lips on his golden brown skin, but his pleasure is cut short when you raise Truth-teller against his throat. 

“Don’t get cocky, shadowsinger. I could just as easily switch from kissing your throat to slitting it open.” 

The dark laughter that emanates from the male makes you shiver. “I know, sweetheart. That’s what makes this so fun.”

Deft fingers snatch the dagger away from your hands as Azriel turns you over to face the mirror, dragging the sharp point of his weapon over your collarbones. The cold steel sweeps over your skin as he trails sloppy, wet kisses all over your neck. You tilt your head back in pleasure until the shadowsinger cuts the straps of your dress in one swift movement. The corset top falls to your lap and leaves you exposed to the elements as Azriel grins wickedly. 

“This dress is one of my favorites,” you hiss. 

Azriel cups your bare breasts and you involuntarily lean into his touch while he chuckles. “I’ll buy you another one. Hell, I’ll buy you the whole godsdamned shop. Just turn around and let me look at you.” 

The shadowsinger twirls you around as you slink out of the ruined dress. You’ve done this routine with plenty of males before, walking with your chin held high as they took in your naked form, but something about Azriel’s stare makes you shy away. You had to actively fight the urge to cover yourself as his fingers swept from the tops of your shoulders to the sensuous curve of your hips. 

“You’re a work of art. It’s no wonder that you have the Crown Prince eating out of the palm of your hand.” 

You smirk. “Jealous much?” 

“On the contrary, sweetheart. It’s him who should be jealous of me. Rhaegar will never get to touch you like this and once I’m done with you, no other male will dare to try again. Not unless they want to lose their heads.”

And fuck if Azriel threatening violence on your behalf didn’t absolutely turn you on. 

“Don’t keep me waiting then.” 

The smirk that graces the shadowsinger’s face makes your skin crawl with desire. He hoists you up from the dresser and places you directly in front of the four poster bed, guiding you towards the mattress until the backs of your knees hit the edge. You busy yourself with the buckles on the front of Azriel’s armor, tugging at them impatiently as he wriggles out of the dark leathers. He hoists his shirt over his head while twirling his beloved dagger in his hands. Azriel has every intention to set the weapon aside, but you catch his wrist at the last second. 

“Did I say we were done with that?”

Something wicked dances in Azriel’s eyes as he pushes you onto the soft mattress. He brings his dagger up to your naked form, gently tracing every voluptuous curve with the flat end of his blade. The steel kisses your skin as he trails a path from your chest down to your navel. Azriel pauses, pressing Truth-teller’s hilt against your pubic bone. 

“Is this what you want, sweetheart?” Azriel asks with a dark chuckle as he rubs the cold hilt against your clit. “You want me to fuck you with my dagger until you’re begging for my cock?” 

You clench your thighs together in response to the filthy words. The thought alone makes you hot all over and the contrast of the blade against your skin feels heavenly. 

“Yes,” you barely breathe. 

When your eyes meet, there’s something purely predatory in Azriel’s hazel irises. The dagger sweeps over your entrance and its blunt end is covered in your arousal as the shadowsinger prods the weapon into your soaking core. You’re so wet that his treasured blade slips in and out of your pussy with ease.

“That’s right, baby. Take all of it.” You moan in pleasure as he drives the hilt deeper, hitting that sweet spot that has your back arching off the bed. “Filthy little girl.” 

Through lust blown eyes, you blink back stars as Azriel flicks his thumb over your clit. The friction causes you to buck greedily against his hand as he drives you to the brink of collapse. Your skin felt like it was on fire and your lungs could barely take in air as your mewls echo off the walls. 

You grasp at Azriel’s hand, tugging him towards the mattress as you flip positions with ease. The dagger feels light in your hands as you wield it up to his throat, outlining his sharp jaw with its flat edge. You take the opportunity to admire every feature. Tan skin, onyx hair, perfect teeth, and most of all, those powerful wings encompassing the span of his muscled back. Everything about the shadowsinger was delicious and you couldn’t wait to taste every inch. 

You dip down to kiss him, enveloping the both of you in the dark curtain of your hair as Azriel attempts to take the lead. With a brush of the blade, you shake your head and smirk. His assumption that he’d be the one in charge tonight told you that the shadowsinger was accustomed to taking the lead in the bedroom, but you weren’t one to relinquish control. Not without making him beg for it first. 

“I’m in charge tonight, Azriel.” 

The dagger grazes the hollow of Azriel’s throat and he could barely restrain himself from devouring you. The fire in your eyes sent him into overdrive. In nearly five centuries of his immortal life, he’s never met anyone like you. Never played with a partner who preferred taking the reins rather than letting him do all the work. It was hot as fuck. 

“Tell me what you want me to do, princess.” 

“Touch yourself for me,” you breathe, settling on top of his thighs while Azriel’s eyes widen at your wicked request. 

The winged warrior obliges the command and pumps himself, rubbing a large hand over his cock. His generous length twitches in his palm while his head tilts back in ecstasy and the sound of his moans reverberate through your entire being, awakening a primal need within you. 

The glistening slickness of his precum coats the sensitive tip of his cock and you hold your breath in eager anticipation as Azriel thrusts his hand back and forth. There’s something utterly depraved about the act of watching himself get off, riding out the pleasure while he shamelessly moans your name. 

“Don’t cum until you’re inside me,” you say with a devious grin. 

Azriel inhales sharply, his parted lips and tousled hair embodying sex itself. “Then ride me, baby.”

Bracing your hands on his broad shoulders, you position your hips over his cock, grasping at the base while you guide him to your entrance. Azriel hisses at the sensation of your wet cunt on his already sensitive tip, fighting every urge to buck against you while you slowly sink down into him. His hands grip your waist while he sheathes himself into your pussy, loving the way your tight walls contract around him. Azriel was big, so much so that you’re struggling to take all of him while he groans underneath you.

“So fucking tight,” he grunts. “I love the way your pretty pussy feels.” The sheer size of him makes your eyes water as you adjust yourself to accommodate his length. “Now come on sweetheart, fuck me like you hate me.” 

Cauldron boil and fry you, you’re barely hanging onto what little sanity you had left as you rock your hips into him. Azriel shifts his hips upwards, hitting your cervix with relentless ferocity while he drives his cock in and out of you. The growls coming out of his mouth were animalistic as he whispers the nastiest, dirtiest curses into your hair. 

“You have such a filthy mouth, Azriel. I fucking love it.”

“Talking dirty is the least of what my mouth can do.” 

Azriel crashes his lips down to yours, sucking on your bottom lip as you grind against him. The deep, guttural growl it elicits out of the shadowsinger tastes like sugar on your tongue. You ride him faster, picking up the pace while your moans echo through the room, the sounds tangling together like your limbs. The familiar spread of warmth in your lower abdomen indicates that your orgasm was close. As Azriel brings you to the precipice of release, a knock on the door brings you crashing down to reality. 

Shadows envelope the both of you in a dark cocoon, swallowing light and sound as a tendril of darkness curls through Azriel’s ear. 

“It’s Rhaegar,” he informs you through gritted teeth. 

You groan softly as Azriel possessively presses you closer. “How unseemly would it be if I told the Crown Prince of Rask to fuck off?”

The shadowsinger smirks. “As pleasing as it would be, I have a better idea,” the mischievous tone of his voice peaks your interest. “Answer the door.” 

Azriel retrieves your sleeping gown and matching silk robe, draping it over your shoulders as he helps you out of bed. His scarred hand clamps down onto your bare ass cheek, kneading the soft skin before turning you around and sheathing himself inside of your pussy again. 

If it weren’t for the barrier that his shadows provided, the Crown Prince would’ve heard the filthy moan that the shadowsinger knocks out of you. Rhaegar raps against the wooden door once more as Azriel grips your hips. 

“Answer the door,” the Illyrian warrior growls. 

“But he’ll see,” you gasp as Azriel gathers the silky material of your nightgown in his hands, watching as he slides his cock in and out of your pussy slowly. 

“My shadows will provide cover. Rhaegar won’t see a thing, but you and I will both know that I’m balls deep in your pretty little cunt while you turn the Crown Prince away.”

Your arousal coats his length, causing the male to chuckle darkly. The shadowsinger detects the shift in your scent and the fact that you were turned on by his indecent proposal turned him on even more. Azriel smirks as you nod wordlessly, guiding you to the door with his hands gripping your waist. 

Swallowing thickly, you open the door a sliver and squint out into the dark night, barely making out Rhaegar’s form as Azriel pushes deeper inside you. As you grip the wooden handle, you fight the urge to moan as the Crown Prince smiles at you. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt your rest,” Rheagar starts with an apologetic smile. This male, who you thought was handsome just hours before, couldn’t compare to the winged warrior behind you now, grazing your earlobe with his teeth as you try your best to focus on the task at hand. 

“Forgive me for my appearance. Had I known you were paying me a visit, I would have better prepared myself.” 

“It is I who should be apologizing, my lady. I only wish to bring you the news first. I accepted Rhysand’s offer and have sent a raven to the Night Court with my terms.” 

Azriel kneads the soft tissue of your right ass cheek, pressing a kiss in the middle of your spine while he thrusts into you. You bite down on your bottom lip, nearly drawing blood. 

“Are you alright, my lady?” 

“I-I’m fine. Just feeling a bit exhausted from our rather eventful day.” 

Rheagar nods, seemingly realizing the late hour and the intrusion his presence posed. If only he knew what Azriel was doing behind you. “Of course, I shall let you return to rest. I hope to see you on the morrow, my lady.” 

“Good night,” you barely mutter before you’re shutting the door on the Crown Prince’s face. 

Azriel wastes no time as he presses you up against the brick wall, bracing your hands onto the solid surface before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. 

“Look at you. So greedy for my cock that you’d shut the door on Rhaegar’s face. I imagine the Crown Prince was hoping his night would end the way mine is right now, buried inside you while you try so hard not to moan my name. Too bad that I’m the only one who gets to feel this pretty little pussy of yours from now on.”

You moan as he claims you with a kiss, his tongue prodding past your parted lips while he clasps the hollow of your throat possessively. “Brace yourself, sweetheart. I intend to fuck the thought of any other male out of you.” 

“That’s rather cocky of you, shadowsinger.”

The feline smile that curves through his handsome face was full of promise. “It’s not cocky if it’s true.” His shadows swirl through your ankles, pushing them further apart as Azriel smirks at the shock on your face. “Now be a good girl and bend over for me.”

Flush with need, you wordlessly oblige his command. Azriel links your fingers together as your palms spread out against the cool brick, his hips thrusting into you from behind while the sound of skin against skin echoes through the room. The death grip you had on his hands didn’t seem to bother the Illyrian as he muttered a string of curses that would put a sailor to shame. 

His palm catches your cheek before it scrapes against the rough cement of the wall, turning your chin to kiss the breath right out of you. The shadowsinger’s other hand clamps down on the front of your sex, circling his fingers deliciously against your clit. Shadows swirl through your nipples, sweeping over your skin like a tiny million kisses and heightening the pleasure that much more. You could feel yourself chasing that familiar high, moans growing louder and louder with every flick of Azriel's digits. 

Without warning, he withdraws his touch and slips out of you. You whine in desperation, needy to feel all of Azriel in you again. 

“Why’d you stop?” 

Azriel grins wickedly. “I want to see how long you can hold out before you’re begging for me.” 

You snarl, capturing his bottom lip with your teeth and biting hard enough to draw blood. “Perhaps I’ll bring you to your knees first, Azriel.”

He chuckles darkly, licking up the crimson droplets from the corner of his mouth. “I don’t see why we can’t have both.” 

Before you could ask him what that meant, he picks you up with ease and sits you atop the wooden dresser. Azriel knocks the perfume and other items scattered on the surface and grips the tops of your thighs, pulling you to the edge while he kneels down between your legs. Dark wings flare across his back as he smirks, not saying a single word before he plunges his tongue onto your soaking core. 

Gods help you, Azriel knew exactly what he was doing. His greedy mouth works you into a writhing, whining mess while he expertly flicks his tongue against your clit. Every kitten lick sends a rush of euphoria straight to your brain, short circuiting what little logic you had left while you hang onto Azriel’s silky dark locks for dear life. His satisfied hum reverberates through your skin, making your clit throb with desire and desperation as he continues to worship you with his hands, lips, and tongue. The sensation of his warm and wet mouth against your sex had your eyes rolling back into your head. The moans Azriel was eliciting out of you was borderline obscene. 

If this was a dream, you never wanted to wake up. 

Not realizing that you’d vocalized that last thought, Azriel smirks up at you, his mouth and chin coated with your arousal. “It’s not a dream, sweetheart. I'm right here and I’m more than willing to make you cum. If you say the magic words.” 

“Fuck you, Azriel,” you rasp teasingly, barely clinging onto what little pride you had left. 

The shadowsinger smiles. “I’m afraid that’s not it, but perhaps this will remind you how to say please.” 

Azriel yanks you to him, spreading you over the dresser as he slips inside of you once more. Your breath fogs up the glass as your features contort with pleasure. In the reflection, the shadowsinger’s smirk was nearly feral as he rams himself into your pussy, making you arch your back as you moan his name. 

His eyes darken with lust as he gathers your hair in his right hand. “Say it again.” 

“Azriel,” you chant as he hisses sharply, snapping his hips at a punishing pace.

“Ready to give up yet, princess?”

Rolling your eyes, you latch your lips onto his neck, grinning against his golden brown skin as you rake your nails along his back. Azriel moans and you continue your path, fingertips stilling over the apex of his wings. Your light touch makes the Illyrian male shiver, burying his face in the crook of your neck while he bites back the growl threatening to reveal just how good it feels to have you caress his sensitive wings. 

“Nesta told me how sensitive you Illyrians are with your wings. She said that the right touch can even bring you to completion,” you state with an innocent smile. “Shall we test that theory, Az?”

“Fuck,” Azriel moans, his teeth grazing your shoulder as you run your pointer finger over the red and gold membrane behind his back. “You’re a vicious tease.” 

You grin, sucking at his earlobe as his thrusts grew sloppier. “I’m just giving you a taste of your own medicine, baby.”

The curve of his wings feels leathery underneath your digits as you continue to tease Azriel, tracing little patterns upon his leathery wings. You’ve never heard a male make the sounds that the shadowsinger was making now - needy, desperate, and literal music to your ears. 

“That feels so fucking good, sweetheart.” Azriel pants and the sight of his glistening skin and sex tousled hair makes you beam with satisfaction. 

The ever stoic shadowsinger was a writhing mess above you, his warm breath fanning over your skin while he chants your name like a prayer. The teasing becomes a competition between you, both eager to make each other cave first. Unwilling to yield, Azriel fucks into you deeper but his resolve is barely hanging on by a thread while you lightly rake your nails over his wings. 

“So close,” he grunts, rolling his hips into yours. 

"Please, Az..." you plead. "Don't stop."

Azriel chuckles, pounding into you with a harsh snap of his hips. "You sound so pretty when you beg, baby." He smirks as you whimper.

"Nobody likes a tease, Azriel." You lightly rub the sharp talon at the apex of his wings as he releases a shuddering breath. "If you won't fuck me the way I want, maybe I should ask Rhaegar if he's willing."

The shadowsinger snarls, flipping you over and ramming his cock into you so deep that you could feel every ridge and curve within your walls. While you knew that it probably wasn't the best idea to push Azriel, awakening this dark side of him brought a different sort of thrill out of you.

"There will be no other male for you," Azriel grunts, holding your hips down while you buck against him. "Do you understand?"

"Just you," you confirm. "It's just you, Azriel."

He smirks proudly. "Good girl."

You could feel yourself on the brink of release as he releases his grip and fills all of you again, lifting your hips up to take Azriel deeper. His cock was perfect, fitting tight and snug into your pussy as you greedily squeeze his length with an ironclad grip. 

“Can we call it a draw?” 

Azriel’s eyes fill with relief, dipping his head down and capturing your lips with his. “Yes, sweetheart. Put me out of my godsdamned misery.”

He lifts you gently off the dresser, giving you the leverage to ride him until you reached that euphoric high. Azriel seems content on letting you use him, holding out on his own orgasm until he knows that you've ridden the wave of your pleasure to the very end. White noise rushes through your ears as Azriel thrusts into you one last time, whispering your name with quiet reverence while pleasure racks his entire body. His words are gentle and soft as he slowly pulls out of you, admiring the way his cum trickles down the side of your leg as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

Azriel is slick with your own arousal and you blush at the sight of him soaked with your cum. He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart. I love knowing that I can make you cum like this. Your taste, your scent, your moans. Gods, I’m going to be thinking about it every waking moment.”

He turns over to face you, smiling as you shy away from his gaze, running his fingers over your skin while he drinks in the sight of you blissed out and euphoric. The shadowsinger had only allowed himself to imagine you like this in the dead of night when he could no longer fight off his desire, but nothing could compare to the real thing. He traces the outline of your lips with a fond smile.

"You were right, you know. I do want you. So fucking badly that I acted like an absolute prick."

You giggle. "Of course I was right." Azriel rolls his eyes and kisses your knuckles. "Have you ever considered that maybe I wanted you too?"

"The thought did cross my mind. After that first failure of a mission that we ever went on, when you got in my face and started yelling. I knew I was done for." Azriel grins mischievously. "Why do you think I was constantly picking fights with you? I love getting you all riled up. Your cheeks get all red and flustered and your eyes...there's something wild about them and it turns me the fuck on."

"So you're telling me that all this fighting was just foreplay?" you tease. "A normal person would've just asked me out on a date."

He chuckles. “Where’s the fun in that? I enjoy the chase as much as the catch.”

You quirk a brow. “And now that you’ve caught me?”

In a surprisingly sweet gesture, Azriel cradles your face in his hands and kisses you deeply. “I’m never letting go.”

You don’t even realize that you’re smiling until he pulls away and mirrors your reaction. He presses gently on the marks on the side of your neck, admiring the work of his lips. 

“Don’t cover these, sweetheart. I want the Prince and everyone else to know that you’re mine and mine alone.”

“Jealous, possessive male,” you say with feline amusement. “I thought the feared spymaster would insist on nothing but absolute discretion.” 

“Fuck being discrete,” Azriel says fiercely. “Unless you intend to still vie for Rhaegar.”

The notion itself was laughable. How could you ever look at any other male after tonight? 

“I shut the door on the Crown Prince of Rask for you, Azriel. If that doesn’t make my choice clear, then I don’t know what will.”

He grins, tucking a stray lock behind your ear. “Perhaps I could use a bit more convincing.”

“Asshole,” you tease playfully. 

Azriel captures your lips between his, laughing as you groan into his mouth. “You can call me whatever you want, sweetheart. As long as you’re moaning it.”

The shadowsinger flips you on the bed, pinning you underneath his body while he grins deviously. Tendrils of darkness swirl through your limbs, chaining your wrists to the headboard and spreading your legs apart. 

“Now come on, baby. I'm only getting started," he grazes his teeth over the hollow of your throat and you whimper in response. "We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

taglist: @gorgeouslysent, @moony-thoughts, @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets

let me know if you'd also like to be added to my forever taglist 💙

#um? i am in a feral mood #there's absolutely no reason for this to be as filthy as it was but alas #azriel #acotar #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel/reader #azriel smut #acotar smut #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #masterlist #jess writes

[xxladyballadxx]

My Love, My World, My Treasure

Richter Belmont x f! reader

❀ Dividers by @saradika-graphics ❀

ꕤ I recommend listening to Two Slow Dancers by Mitski while reading this ꕤ

Summary: A week had passed ever since you finally killed the patriarch that used you as a weapon to rage against wars. The nightmare was over, you were finally free. Then…you became more aloof, distancing yourself from everyone. Richter and the others knew what was up. Tera and Maria decided to help Richter out to do something special for you, to bring out a smile on your face once again…

“Richter, where are you taking me?” You asked in curiosity while having a blindfold over your eyes. “Hold on, we’re almost there.” Richter reassured you, holding your hands steadily that way you don’t trip or bump into anything. Still wondering what Richter was up to. Your eyes remained close behind the blindfold. “Okay, my sweet dove, we’re here.” Richter released your hands, hearing the steps of him walking behind you to untie the knot of the blindfold. 

With the blindfold no longer shielding the surprise, you lit your eyes open and felt the warm breeze crawling up on you, your hair dancing mid-air as it flowed over some parts of your face. 

You gasped, reeling in joy and happiness. Your eyes wandered around the place, you were taken to a field full of gorgeous flowers by your amazing boyfriend Richter Belmont. So this is what he wanted to show you. 

Roses, daisies, tulips and many other flowers were blooming beautifully on the green shining grass. “They’re beautiful!” You beamed out, bending down to touch the petals with your fingertips. “I know you haven’t been feeling like yourself recently.” Richter spoke calmly while he went over to you, a worried smile appearing, “I wanted to do something special for you, to bring a smile to your face once again. To cheer you up…” 

You stood up, walking over to Richter with a sweet loving smile popping up, “Richter…” he held your hands and motioned his eyes to gaze at yours, “I hope this isn’t too much, you’ve been through a lot and I realized we were never able to spend more time together since we were so focused on things that were dragging us down to the fucking dirt. You mean a lot to me, (Name).” He squeezes your hands lovingly, his blue oceanic orbs falling up on you, “I can’t bear to see you suffering like this…” 

Richter was hurting deeply inside, for you and he figured out that you haven’t been your usual happy-self for the past few days. This is why he did all this for you… 

“Oh Richter…” You held up your hand, caressing the side of his face while he looked at you worryingly, “This…all this means everything to me. I love what you did with the flowers…” you pulled away to look down to the blossoms. “Somehow they remind me of a beautiful garden back home in London, do you remember?” 

Richter chuckled, recalling the moments you spent more time with him when you were both children, “I always plucked out the rose from the bush and removed its bloody thorns before putting on your hair. Sometimes I get yelled at by one of your butlers since I wasn’t supposed to take the flower from a bush.” He picked out a Chrysanthemum and placed it behind your ear, admiring how stunning you look with it. “You love to make those flower crowns and put them on my head, wanting me to match with you.” 

You smiled fondly, “Oh yes. I even made a flower ring for you too. “ Those were the greatest days for you and Richter. You were much happier back then, running around in the garden with Richter while he chased you wildly. “I..missed this…I missed the moments we had together when we were kids.” 

Richter held your hands together in his palms, gazing his blue sea orbs upon you, “I do too, (Name). Nine years and here I thought…I would never see you again. The person whom I held so close to my heart.” 

You recalled the time where Richter rescued you from that cult, he couldn’t recognise you at first. You never prayed for someone you knew to come and rescue you. Richter Belmont, the close friend you ever had, rescued you. He came back to you. During the invasion in London, with the vampires slaughtering the citizens, Richter thought you were killed along with your family. 

He regained some parts of his happiness when he found you, so did you.

Richter sat beside you as you began to make garlands, creating a crown out of various flowers. He watches you making one, his gaze unmoving. “Where do you see us when this is all over?” Richter had been wanting to ask you for a while, he never got the chance to for some reason. Perhaps he was too focused on taking down the Messiah and her army. 

You put down the unfinished crown on your lap and face Richter in his direction, “I truly wish I have an answer for that. I never thought about it that deeply. Maybe…somewhere nice…perhaps in a cottage. Living there peacefully I suppose..” 

Richter shone a warm smile, holding your hand into his, “That would actually be quite nice…for you and me.” You gave him a kiss on the cheek in return before finishing off making the garlands. Richter knew you would need this, wanting to get away from all the terrible things that were dragging you down. 

You set your eyes towards the warm blue sky, the yellow-red burning sun shining brightly on your face, “It’s quite lovely out here, isn’t it?” you stood up with that finished flower crown in your hands you finished making. 

Richter got up on his feet, standing next to you. His eyes wandered around the area, a little speck of gleam going through his pupils, “It really is. Not as beautiful as you though.” 

Your face flushed at his compliment, you turned towards his direction wanting to look him in the eye with that flourishing reddened face of yours. Richter found it quite adorable seeing you like that, it brings him much joy just by spending his time with his lover. Seeing a girl he truly loves smiling once again. 

He took the flower crown off your hands, slowly planting it on your head. A sparkle of happiness painted over Richter’s face, “You look beautiful as ever, (Name).” The wind dancing through your hair, parts of them flowing over your face as a radiant smile shone across your lips. 

Richter gripped your hands, inching you closer to him. He held your head leaning in for a kiss. You closed your eyes when his lips touched yours sweetily. A slow, passionate kiss melting onto your soft lips. Richter moved his head away from your face to say, “I love you, (Name), so damn much.” 

Your eyes pricked with tears, “I know. I love you too.” You wrapped your arms around him lovingly, your head burying into his chest, “My love, my world, my treasure.” you looked up to his face, smiling as you shed more tears of sparkled joy, “You are the one I need. You, Richter Belmont, are my precious treasure.” 

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

a/n - Hello everyone! I hope you all like what I've written on here! I wanted to tear up so much while writing the ending for this (╥﹏╥)

Anyways, keep yourselves warm in this very cold season and make sure you take care of your health! ( • ᴗ - ) ✧

UNTIL NEXT TIME 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

#castlevania #castlevania nocturne #richter belmont #castlevania x reader #castlevania nocturne x reader #richter belmont x reader #richter belmont x you #richter belmont imagine #castlevania imagine #richter belmont fluff

[thoughtsafterdark]

Stigmata

The world is quiet. So quiet. The silence deafens, bends backs, breaks minds. It holds its breath, waiting, biding its time. Still and poised yet tense, every pebble and grain of sand prepared to strike. Like a big cat stalking its prey, shoulders rolling so smoothly as it inches closer and closer. Like oil sliding off the skin of the water. Those moments when it crouches and becomes one with the Savanah. When the golden light of the setting sun sets the land aflame and blades of grass blend with raised heckles until they are one and the same.

It waits for you, for your conception and birth. Molecules aligning, cells dividing, flowers blooming. The water of your mother’s womb is surprisingly thin given the precious life it cushions. It is expelled from your lungs like a sacrament, like a fountain that once erupted from a desert rock millennia ago. Strong lungs as befit a firstborn son. Your first cries pierce the air and shatter the stillness into a million shimmering fragments. The diamonds spill across the inky blackness. A burst of colour from the Lord’s brush, arcing across the sky. Another promise, another new beginning. Yet Gods are foolish, lonely creatures. Their promises ring hollow and false to our suffering ears. The whips crack and our skin splits, oozes all the same. Where was God when my brothers withered and died, the cries ripped from their throats going unanswered?

And yet tell me why as I gaze upon you now, I am compelled to fall to my knees? As if every fibre of my being yearns to bow, to yield - as if your voice bursts from somewhere deep in my squirming gut and heart and not your lips?

Tell me why I itch to bury myself in the crook where your thigh meets groin and inhale the musk there as if your scent holds the Eye of the Needle, as if the grooves of your skin map Heaven’s Kingdom. Would you let me cry tears of rapture at your coming and wash your feet with them and my tongue?

I wonder if such a wonton display of devotion would anger you, frighten you. Would you toss me away in disgust, smash my face into the ground? Break my nose against rock and let me feel the warm flood of blood flow backwards down my throat, let me savour the salt and iron as I swallow devoutly. Tell me why I have never felt so alive as when your holy wrath rains down upon me like fire, like the destruction of Sodom.

I watch you now, standing proud against that same setting sun, gazing across the expanse of your new kingdom. Here as it dips low upon the dunes and the sand lashes at us. Its rays frame raven curls and fracture all around you, as if afraid to touch you and be seduced. A halo that revers yet fears you. It hardens your features as if you were hewn from granite Your jaw tightens against the onslaught, sharp enough to fell armies. Your eyes become the harsh ringing of blade against blade. Gone is the boy with the easy smile tugging at the corner of a mouth, crow’s feet wrinkling eyes. In his place is the cold pyre of divine righteousness. The commander of earth and sky, made to wield sound and air itself. I think of the icons of old, the waxy mournful faces of saints and note what a pale imitation they must be, if they had even a third of your weight.

You are a black hole - all-consuming, inescapable, inevitable - and we are all trapped in your orbit, edging ever closer to the Event Horizon that will surely destroy us. But tell me if our path is so doomed why my heart leaps at the prospect of pledging my death to you? What finer gift is there but that of my last breath, freely given?

In your face I see rivers of blood and the thrum of charging men. I hear the chants of our forefathers and the long line of prophets that came before, accumulating across the centuries into the tapestry that is your flesh.

Yet as you lie here beside me, the darkness kept at bay by the stubborn flame of a lone candle, your face serene with sleep and your sweat acrid and sharp in my nose - I see just a man plagued by a crown of thorns. I think of my hands, bathing in the blood of innocents in your name. Your name, a mantra, a hymn that ignites us all with awe and hunger. I wonder if knowing deep down you are just a man makes me more or less the fool.

Then your eyes open, lashes fluttering, and I see the light burning there and I know messiahs are not born but made in the hearth of a home, in the fierceness of a loyal heart and the beating lifeblood of a people starved of hope. I care not if you bleed red or ichor, I know only that I will follow you into hell itself, until we burn to ash and we become whispers, legends. Until we are nothing but dust floating across the dunes, the wind that stokes the flames of a thousand more rebellions.

#creative writing #poetry #religious trauma #religious imagery #love #devotion #stream of consciousness #love poetry

[zeraaachan]

when my chrysanthemum go

og! cale henituse x gn! transmigrated! reader

content(s): in which you fell in love with a red chrysanthemum. and everything became meaningful yet meaningless at the same time.

warning(s): spoilers for tcf, angst/no comfort, ooc og! cale, unedited, possible typographical and grammatical errors ahead

author(s) note: i'm not done reading the novel yet but yea, i'm in love with him already. and i don't know how to spell the flower's name for the life of me.

he was never the trash he played spectacularly. he was just a mere actor of an opera meant to protect his family. he was nothing but a count's eldest son, sweet and loving but reckless in his ways, who plays the role of the drunkard trash of the county. sure he drinks, but his mind stays sharp. rough he is with his tongue but his words never meant any harm, at least to the people he cherishes. and had anyone ever saw his cheeks truly bloom? not with the ruddy red of alcohol but with purer emotions? he was adorable, loveable even. the cale henituse you knew was never a trash. he's more than that. he is a thick book with deeper meaning.

the original cale henituse was truly special... to you who entered this fantasy world.

you've been curios from the start even though you haven't read that far in the book. you've always asked if the original cale henituse was truly a trash? what happened to him after the first scenario? was he something deeper, a more dynamic character? someone who played a bigger role instead of a fodder? you've always been curios about the original cale henituse.

and your curiosity was quenched when you had a sipped of what it meant to be in a world with him. to actually meet him.

he laughed with you and dusted your cheeks with the same hue as his hair. and brought you to a garden where he wove a crown of flower for the mane on your head. cale, your cale, took you to places. to where he went when he's at his lowest to the highest peak where he promised you his loyalty in the name of cale henituse. you watched the sunset, of course. it was a classic. he'll prepare a banket on the grass for the two of you to sit and give you delectable foods that the staff prepared. he's a noble after all. you can't expect him to cook but you can expect him to adore you with his reddish brown eyes.

and if he's truly a trash like what the book says, will a trash ever weep for his mother? will a trash bring you to where the biggest portrait of the previous countess hang and tell you stories of her, her dignity and glory, her warmth and affection. will a trash ever have that solemn look in his eyes as he hold your hand and tell you how he misses the person who gave birth to him? and will a trash protect his family? in his own unconventional ways? will a trash ever ruin himself for the sake of others?

and will a trash ever look at you fondly and accept the red chrysanthemum in your hand.

because that's what he do. that's what the cale you know do.

"thank you" a soft smile graced his lips as you gifted him the dainty flower. it's nothing special or grand. you even picked it on a random field. "but why a red chrysanthemum?"

and to that you'll answer.

"in some cultures, red chrysanthemums means love and passion."

you saw him open his mouth and ask why not roses instead which you answered with, "roses have thorns. but you never pricked me even once when i caressed you."

cale immediately closed his mouth after that. a smile made its way to your lips as you continue your monologue.

"your hair," he unconciously touched his red locks, bathed in the setting sun that complimented its radiant color even more. "it reminds me of it. and i love it."

it was true. you love his red hair that often have a rivalry with his cheeks whenever he drink or talk to you. you love his red hair that shines gloriously every morning, when the sun peek at his bedroom's window. you love his red hair that scatters on his white pillow on the most fashionable way. you love his red hair and you love--

"you."

him. you love cale henituse who'll you'll always remember by his red hair that caught your attetion, just like the little red chrysanthemum, on that day on that wide field.

"i'm glad." he finally stated after a flustered moment, cheeks as bright s his locks, and eyes shining with embarassment. he looked away when he noticed your eyes that are still on him. with quick clumsy movements, he looked away and streteched his limbs that got too relaxed from laying with you beneath the sun. he stood up and faced the sun. his clothed back on full display to you, wide and proud and sure of everything.

his shadow that day casted on you.

"i'll also give you red chrysanthemums as soon as we return. better, a garden of it." he proudly said with a cheeky grin once he finally faced you, reminding you once again that he's filthy rich just to do that. he offered his hand to help you stand up and gave you the warmest, brightest, and most loving smile you saw on him. "let's do this again tomorrow."

to which he followed.

"i love you, l/n y/n. for today and tomorrow." he muttered, almost in an oath. "and i'll keep doing it so wait for that red chrysanthemum garden. i'll tell ron tomorrow."

but that tomorrow never came. you became too engrossed with your own fantasy, with your own lovesick novel, that you forgot that none of the two of you are the main characters in the plot. you're not the main couple that fought against everything with love. by the end of the day, the two of you are just another side characters... with unfulfilled dreams and imperfect romance.

and it all came falling down when you saw the calm look in his eyes.

you lost him already.

"i will not get that red chrysanthemum garden, won't i?" you asked broken heartedly, a single streak of tears on your cheek that multiplied when he answered you with a confused look.

you lost him. the flower you saw that day, the flower you loved... bloomed into another flora.

you forgot that chrysanthemums can also mean goodbye.

when my chrysanthemum go

zerake

#cale henituse #og cale henituse #trash of the count's family #tcf #lout of the count's family #lcf #cale henituse x reader #og cale henituse x reader #tcf x reader #tcf fic #gender neutral reader #help me i don't know how to tag #original cale henituse #manhwa

[nightcourtseer]

Elain Appreciation Week Day 4

So You Want to Start a War

Prompt: Beyond the Beauty

“Don’t you touch my sister.”

“I hope they all burn in hell.”

“Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.”

The sun was just beginning to peek over the mountains, streaming through the open curtains when two sharp raps came to Rhys’ office door.

He started, not having heard anyone approach. He had not bothered to search for sleep after the disastrous altercation with Azriel just hours before. His raven hair was still mussed after running his hands through it again and again, tugging it in frustration as he tried and tried to think of any other solution, any other alternative where their survival would not hinge on the Autumn Court, or rather, Day Court prince.

No solution had appeared, not even after a few desperate prayers sent to the Cauldron. The blasted pot should owe him after all, after Rhys had given his very life to piece it back together again.

His third prayer of the night was interrupted by those two short, insistent raps.

“Yes?” He called out hoarsely, mindful of his very pregnant mate still asleep down the hall.

The door swung open.

And Elain entered.

Rhys started once more at the sight of his mate’s gentle sister, upper body wrapped in a bandage of stripped blue-gray fabric that hugged her chest and shoulders, donning a slim but loose pair of pants in the same color. Her normally unbound curls were tied back in two long braids that started at the crown of her head and fell down her back - a familiar style often worn by his spymaster’s wraiths.

The beginning of two half-moon shadows bloomed on her pale skin, cradling abnormally dull brown eyes.

Her mouth was set in a solid, thin line as she stepped inside the room on silent feet, closing the door with a barely audible click behind her.

“Elain….” He trailed off when he noticed that which was typically hidden under long, modest sleeves.

White scars were notched up and down the inside of both arms, barely visible on her creamy skin besides the raised texture they left behind.

She had been scrying then, after all.

With her own blood.

Elain’s hard gaze did not falter as she took a step closer. The startled fawn nowhere to be found.

The Kingslayer stood tall in its place before him. Cauldron-blessed. Mother-sent Seer.

“Use me,” Elain commanded in a low, flat voice. Her empty brown eyes a void, her mind eerily silent to him, as always, even as his mental reach stretched for her. Night-flecked talons were caught up in her vines, shut out by thorns and knots impossibly thick.

“Elain…” he started once more, rising slowly from his place behind the desk, but she interrupted him.

“I am ready. I have been exercising my… gifts. As soon as the babe is born, I can search for Koschei. And I will go, wherever you send me.”

She paused, and Rhysand noted the heaviness in her expression even as she tried to remain featureless.

His heart sank into his stomach at her next words.

“There is nothing left for me here.”

Tag List: @reverie-tales @illyrian-dreamer @elainweekofficial

#elain archeron #pro elain #elriel #acotar fanfiction #elain appreciation week

[be-bi-do-crime]

thinking about how xiao lanhua’s xishan shennü outfit and dongfang qingcang’s yuezun outfit are literal direct parallels of each other. they are each other’s mirror. white and black, flowers and thorns, petals and bone, vine and wood. from the way their crowns fit on their heads to how their armour rests on their shoulders, it’s the same thing, repeating the same message: this is how i will keep my guard up from you. this is how i will hide my heart from you.

these outfits are also representative of how they’re both carrying the burdens of their people on their shoulders. they wear them in the darkest times, when their loyalty to their duty has to be placed above their loyalty to each other. xiao lanhua must save the world; dongfang qingcang must save his soldiers and bring his people home.

(but there will come a day where these outfits mean something else, where they are no longer a manifestation of the weights they bear but the hearts they hold.

xiao lanhua will not just be the xishan shennü, but also the yuezhu, and her headpiece will be different; it will be her phoenix crown of bramble and thorn, of blooms and vine.

dongfang qingcang will not be the same yuezun he was thousands of years ago, for he is not alone, not anymore. this time, he has someone by his side. this time, on the same hand that wears bone-sharp claws, is a mended, woven-garden bracelet that he’d never let go.)

#love between fairy and devil #day 193738 of me not shutting the fuck up

[crown-of-roses-thsc]

Okay hold up- other endings that you had to scrap? And one of them had Ellie x Rupert?!?!? (I really like that ship as a platonic pare…)

May I ask, how would a TT or any timeline where Ellie goes against the clan work with this au? Since Ellie is/was a toppat and all…

Yup Yup! Lemme see…the two endings I definitely plan on doing are Toppat Civil Warfare (Crown of Thorns) and Toppat King (Queen of Roses)

Originally, though, I planned on doing a lot of endings- and even having some overarching story where either Ellie was allowed by Henry to borrow his multiverse powers…somehow, or where the CCC gets bugged by all of these multiverses and makes sure Reginald never betrays Ellie to limit the amount. Not super well thought out 😭

And yeah! Ellie x Rupert…I don’t know what drove me to do that. I think I just thought Rupert being the bossy jock that he always is would be super funny paired with Ellie’s…bossy kick-aaa kind of attitude, haha!

TT and timelines of the sort would mostly follow her resentment towards Reginald driving her to take down the Toppat Clan…especially after seeing how loyal Henry and Charles are. I remember planning a lot of emotional conflict but I can’t find anywhere where I wrote my plans :(

Update: Wait, I did find some notes! Here are the endings I still consider potential fodder if I ever did want to make more endings :))

(TK and TCW ARE canon, so I won’t go over them here)

Queen of Roses - Was going to be the final ending, which would’ve involved Reginald never betraying Ellie.

Bloodred Roses - This ending is one I still consider canon, and follows Ellie as she tries to hunt down the Toppats….only to find the remains of the Revenged Ending. She would meet the ghosts of her former friends, learn how they died in this ending and what life was like once she was gone…and she would try to give them peace.

Blooming Gardens - The Triple Threat ending, which would give Ellie a sibling relationship with Charles and Henry and a father-daughter relationship with the general (who ironically would’ve been her grandpa-in-law if she and Reg got together…this makes me laugh.) Rupert was going to be especially judgmental of her past as a Toppat, but I planned on them slowly becoming friends and possibly hinting at a relationship, although come to think of it they’re way better as best friends

Yeah, a lot of chaotic stuff. Currently, I just plan for Crown of Roses to be the current comic, two endings, and maybe a comic about Suave’s generation…since I like them a lot :)….though I’d love to do a mini-comic about Bloodred Roses….

#henry stickmin crown of roses #thsc cor #thsc #henry stickmin #au #thsc au #thsc ellie rose #copperrose #thsc reginald copperbottom #thsc right hand man #thsc rupert price #rarepair #thsc endings