#wing snare

[mtg-cards-hourly]

Wing Snare

The elves long ago mastered the art of hunting with nets. They call it "fishing the sky."

Artist: Daren Bader TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

#mtg #magic the gathering #tcg #daren bader #wing snare #seventh edition #sorcery

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru x darling

TW: NSFW, noncon, fantasy au

gn reader

Thinking about hunter Gojo and the pretty little nymph that gets themselves snared in one of his traps.

You can’t get your poor leg loose, having twisted your ankle in your fall to the ground – something’s wrong with your wing too, you can feel it – the thin network’s been folded, almost broken – so even if you did manage getting loose, you wouldn’t be able to fly away.

Branches snap around you along the crunch of old leaves – and your heart’s beating out of your chest in fear of it – knowing something large and dangerous is not far behind, that whoever set the trap is not something that wishes you well.

“You’re not a rabbit.” The man says, having crept in close before you’d even heard him approach – crouching in front of you with a hunter's grace. Hawk-eyes ice-blue and piercing, hair as white as pure snow.

He’s got three daggers sleaved in his belt – a fillet knife, a gutting knife, and a larger one you imagine is meant to slice throats. He doesn’t carry a sword like most men but has a bow and sack of arrows slung on his back. Otherwise, dressed lightly – brown leather boots, brown slacks, and a blue cotton shirt. You could have mistaken him for a woodland elf if it weren’t for the thick stench of man.

“Eating creatures from the holy forest is forbidden.” You snip, despite your wide eyes and the wobble of fear evident on your lip.

He only smiles at the quip, a grin like a predator humored by prey. “You wouldn’t tell a wolf not to hunt.”

He stalks you, leaning in closer, and you try shuffling away – but the movement only makes you wince.

“I’m just another hungry animal…”

Rope gnaws into your fine skin while his breath puffs hot and dewy on your face.

“And tonight… seems lady luck has favored me once again.”

He gags you and ties you further up before redoing his snare for the next unlucky creature – then carries you over his shoulder until he’s dropping you down on a bed of furs.

Your skin flushes with goosebumps at the thought of being skinned the same way – mouthing a little prayer around the cloth he’s split your teeth and lips with. He’s cut trees down as well; you hear their pitiful screams when he lights a fire with their bodies. You mourn them, too.

At his full height, the man must be two heads taller than any male nymph you’ve ever seen and at least three heads taller than you. You hope you’re enough to satisfy him tonight, to spare the forest of further bloodshed.

You shiver and sniffle when he starts prepping you – removing your clothes and groping your tender, fleshy places with a strength you’re not used to – hands large and crass – kneading you like dough – probably to assess the quality of your meat. He has a smile on his face while at it. 

Humans make you sick – to think he’s planning on roasting then eating you despite the soul fueling your spirit and the beating heart in your chest. But you’ve long known that all death but their own matters little to them – they don’t feel the same way nymphs do – they don’t regard life with the same respect they’ve donned themselves. It must be a sad and lonely existence, you think. It even makes you feel a little sorry for him.

You yelp when his gritty fingers brush the area between your legs – shimmying when he lowers his mouth down to the same place. Oh God – does he plan on eating you raw? While your body’s still hot and pumping blood?

But the bite never comes – not yet eating but tasting it would seem – licking and slurping and sucking on you.

He takes his shirt off. Probably to avoid spilling on it, you think.

You don’t really understand what’s going on until he’s got his fat manhood pointed toward your kernel-sized hole. Eyes wide as he splits you apart slowly and unabashedly – as though it isn't as deviant as a dog mating a cat – sinking in inch after meaty inch.

You whimper at the stretch – wincing when the plush mushroom-shaped head grinds against that special place inside you. 

It doesn’t fit more than halfway, but that doesn’t seem to bother him – rolling his head back with a rusty groan, even with just the tip gaining purchase within you – pounding into you like a beast in his rut.

“What's the matter, pretty nymph? Did you think I was gonna eat you?” He laughs, bearing over you – his hands steadying your hips to meet his sharp thrust – each hit deeper than the last. “I’m the only hunter in this forest; I can eat what I want when I want – but eating you?” He scoffed and snickered. “That would just be a waste.”

The blood on his breath makes you wrinkle your nose – squeezing your eyes shut as his tongue sweeps up the tear streaks on your cheek.

“My stomach’s already full. Time to empty my balls.”

#yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #yandere gojo x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere satoru gojo #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen headcanons #gojo headcanons

[thewordfortheday]

Read Amos 4

When I read this passage, I get the sense that God is willing to go to great lengths to win His people's hearts and get them to turn to Him. There is a real sense of desperation. Five times He says, “Yet you have not returned to Me.” 

In Amos 4, You see God disciplining His people in various ways- through starvation, drought, plague etc…why? Because He wanted His children to return to Him and be safe under His care. He knew, away from Him, they would be in danger. They’d fall into idolatry or run after financial gain, fall into terrible snares, which would destroy them. 

Has God been trying to get your attention in some way?  He wants you to come to Him, He longs to gather you as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings. Would you respond to Him today?

#bible verse #daily devotional #christian quotes #bible quotes #inspiration #daily devotion #christian quote #christian life #scripture #bible #return to Jesus

[spacedace]

Snippet/prolog thing from a DP x DC fic that lives almost entirely inside my head outside of this & a few other bits.

Please feel free to take this as an overly long prompt haha

If anyone wants context to this let me know and I'll be happy to info dump at you lol

-

The kid had been eleven the first time John Constantine met her.

A little ghost girl, too small for the crowns and dominions that were rightfully hers, wandering the world alone and unattended because to stay in one place would drive her mad - or worse. He didn’t think himself as having a particularly soft heart, but there was something about little Stella Phantom that grew on him - a bit like a mold, he liked to explain. Maybe it was the way she swore like a sailor and kicked a demon in the low hangers with a feral grin the first time he met her. Maybe it was just how lonely she looked, small and slight in the large world she was so obsessed with exploring.

She had a family. A Grave of her own that worried about her, but who couldn’t follow her on her constant travels no matter how much they wanted to. Proof that being some of the most powerful beings in existence wasn’t enough to prepare you for parenthood.

Somewhere along the lines she started following John around. Interested in what he was doing, where he was going, who he worked with. It hadn’t taken long to get her folded into JL Dark. Zantanna had blanched when he’d shown up with little Elle, pulling in the big wigs from JL Light to argue about the ethics of involving a child in their work. As if Supes and the Bat had legs to stand on with their own brood so often in the thick of danger. Elle was safer under his watch than she’d be under the loose oversight the Titans had or whatever fresh hell was going on with Young Justice but hell if anyone would listen to him on that front.

He lost the war when she met Superboy Jr. and Robin V.

She’d adored them from the start, delighted at having children her own age around to spend time with. They formed a little team, working together here and there, then more often as they got older. She still worked mostly with JL Dark, but she was growing up. Spreading her wings a bit.

Elle was seventeen when the Bonds first formed. The spider-silk thin threads finally winding themselves into the heavy binds that spilled out of her Core and reached out for anchoring in the boys. It was sickeningly sweet, in the way puppy love always was. She was too young for Core Bonds like that to settle, of course, in the way children were always too young when they fell in love the first time. It was normal though. Ghost children the Realms over made Bonds only for them to fade or change as they grew, almost never anchoring to anyone til they were full grown.

She’d blushed as red as Marvel’s suit when she realized John could see them, stuttering and embarrassed. He’d teased her about it for a long time, about how much she’d grown up, how much trouble she was going to cause, how he was going to have to fight the big bad Bat and his pet boy scout when she inevitably dishonored their poor, innocent sons. It was entertaining, endearing.

He waited for the Bonds to fade or shift. Weeks. Months. Years. As she turned nineteen, he started to wonder if they would stick around. If in another few years they might strengthen, begin the slow process of anchoring.

She was twenty-one when her boys - calling themselves Flamebird and Phoenix now - started dating each other.

The Bonds remained, steady and solid and painfully unanchored.

John stopped teasing her about them.

They hadn’t changed to accommodate platonic bonds, nor had they faded any. Their tendency to tangle around her like snare was another point of concern. Core Bonds weren’t meant to cause difficulty for the ghost they were born from, and they certainly weren’t meant to wrap around the ghost’s limbs and body in painful loops like that. They weren’t supposed to hurt.

When she was twenty three he started suggesting it might be time for intervention. The irony that he of all people would be trying to get someone to take steps to cut out the thing harming them was not lost on him. Nor was the way the fond feelings he had for the girl had skewed decisively paternal over the years in a way that his younger self would have mocked him for endlessly.

He felt better about broaching the subject knowing that her Grave had been suggesting the same thing. That he wasn’t overstepping the bounds of whatever odd partnership they’d developed over the years. John was, he had very reluctantly come to accept, the girl’s mentor if nothing else. His job was to teach her and guide her, not be her parent.

No matter what his old, battered heart might try and suggest.

Even still, he couldn’t help but be concerned.

She was twenty-five when they got temporarily launched into that broken, bleak world. When they met the Elle and Flamebird and Phoenix of that horrible dimension.

The three alternates’ bonds were anchored completely, tying the triad together in threads of silver and green. Not even Other-Elle’s complete, sickening deterioration into something cannibalistic and feral had been enough to break them. He can’t imagine how much it must have hurt to see that, for his girl to glimpse a world where something she’d longed for for so long happened, only for it to seemingly be at the expense of reality itself.

He helped cover for her, after their two groups had been mixed up and separated for the night - or what might be called night in a world that no longer had any light to make those kinds of distinctions in time. When she came back with the Flamebird and Phoenix of that world, after their little separation from the larger group he kept her two boys misdirected. Distracted Nightwing and Zantanna so they didn’t go asking too many questions he knew Elle wouldn’t want answered. The Bat John was helpless to do much about, but thankfully the big brooder seemed too intent on the desolate, lightless world itself to notice the way Elle’s gaze was going distant, bittersweet at the edges.

He didn’t know what, exactly had happened in the hours she was gone. He could guess, from the way the Other-Phoenix and Other-Flamebird looked at her, the way she avoided her boys. Loneliness and desperation made for an easy slide into bad decisions. John might just have to admit that Zantanna had been correct, all the times she’d said he was a bad influence on the girl. Not that there was any surprise there.

Elle’s Bonds were even more of a knotted mess than before. Offered something so close to anchoring only to find no purchase. They twisted about her throat like a noose now, ready to strangle the life out of her one day.

He signed off on her leave of absence when they finally made it back to their home dimension.

Anyone else would want details to write down. Would want to know the specifics of why and for how long and a whole mess of other details she either wouldn’t or couldn’t answer. He’d get his ass roasted over the fire for the mess the paperwork was in, but that was fine. He’d endured far worse for far less important reasons.

Personal leave, he’d written.

Duration of leave: indefinite.

Reason for leave: None of your fucking business, Bats.

They shared a cigarette on one of the high catwalks in the Watchtower watching dawn break on the world below. Grateful to see the sun and stars again after those two days in utter blackness. They didn’t talk about her Bonds. About what happened. About how she hadn’t talked to her Boys since coming back. Just stood and smoked. He pretended not to notice her tears. She pretended not to notice his. Neither of them had ever been any good at goodbyes.

When the time came she bumped his shoulder in thanks - for the cigarette, for the company, for the years of friendship and family - before turning and stepping through the bright purple door standing impossibly in the middle of the walkway.

He glimpsed the green of the Infinite Realms and the distant shape of her Lair beyond. A world of worlds, paradise to one that never stopped, always off to find something new, something never seen before. It was against all odds that she’d even stumbled upon this one in the first place. A small speck in the crushing infinite.

When the door closed it did so slowly, a painful whine and a soft, mournful click all that marked her leaving.

John watched it bleed out of existence, and wondered if he’d ever see her again.

Six months later, the stars started to disappear.

#dpxdc prompt #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #john constantine #dani phantom #danielle phantom #elle phantom #jon kent #jon el kent #damian wayne #damijon #one sided (?) Super Serious Chaos #for the record it's not actually one sided Damian & Jon are pining for Elle just as bad as she's pining for them #alternative universe versions of themselves went and complicated things further #bruce wayne #infinite realms world building #ghost cores #Constantine caught a case of Father Figure-itis (it's definitely batman's fault) #angst #there's so much back story and nonsense in this fic idea #there's a whole looming apocalypse thing and Elle trying to sacrifice herself #and Jon & Damian thinking something terrible happened between Elle & their AU selves to cause her to pull away from them #there's ghost core lore (ha that rhymed) #one of these days I'll actually write it all down #in the mean time enjoy a prompt

[6sleft]

oh boy,,, so a nutcracker oc, huh 🥲 more below!

based off the past drawing of the scooped beast! (the masked one is unrelated btw) i've made a bit of plot for this lil guy, it's name is octo! it's a nutcracker specimen that somehow grew up in the wild (factory, maybe on assurance?) unlike a lab and was rescued by a crew and grew attached to them

so, they start saving scrap to give it new shells as it grows (which is quite quick for how big it gets to fit in a nutcracker animatronic). they feed it meats of snare fleas and loot bugs if they come across any, though it stays at the ship so it's not in any danger. all is good with the crew, they witness the baby grow and even teach it some tricks and words!

..until the last day of quota, when they, just like every other crew working for The Company, fail to get enough scrap to sell. they know they're doomed, so on their last day before they're fired they leave octo on one of the later moons (probably dine) and say goodbye, giving it a chance at life, though it doesn't fully understand why they left it behind :[

after that, i'm not sure on the rest of the details if it grows to somehow attain a nutcracker vessel or continue to live as a scurrying lil creature, hiding behind scrap and avoiding most monsters. maybe it'll have a mentor who takes it under its wing and teaches it how to survive? like a jester or another nutcracker, though i'm not sure how they'd react to such a vulnerable thing.

when i think of the nutcracker fleshy creatures i can't help but think of octopi cause of the tendrils, hence the name octo xp i like to think the nutcrackers are quite intelligent like irl octopi though, and flexible, so for a wild nutcracker creature it's probably more prone to hide than hunt, akin to a hermit crab, whereas other nutcrackers are raised to hunt due to human influence. (coughwildwarandapocalypselorecough)

anyways, if you read this far then thanks! i'm not particularly good at making fleshed out and detailed ocs like a lot of talented people here are but god looking at them all made me want to adopt my own <3

oh and here's a variant for shits and giggles based on a friends drawing hdjg

#lethal company #added apostrophes and shit all formal shfjd #i just cant stop thinking of the peeled beast!!! i hope i can use more brain juice to flesh this out and the crew maybe in the future #i had another crew ocs before but wasnt sure what to do w them jn terms of lore so i kinda just forgot abt tjem #mayhaps they will be the ones to find the lil guy...

[itsabouttimex2]

I urgently need a platonic Yandere Keigo who finds the reader insanely hungry and crying and his only instinct is to feed the reader like a newborn baby bird

Natural Instinct

Almost every Quirk has a drawback of some kind. A person might have a Quirk that’s too strong for their body to bear, or one that can’t be precisely controlled and does more damage than intended. Some are outright entirely uncontrollable, incapable of being shut off. Sometimes those drawbacks are emotional. It’s not unheard of for a Quirk to be tied to the emotions of whoever bears it. Sometimes, they grow stronger with rage or weaker with sorrow. And for others, that drawback is mental.

Keigo Takami knows that his Quirk has afforded him a lot in life. He has so many different uses for his feathers that it can be dizzying to watch him in action. People would kill and die to have a Quirk so powerful and versatile. He himself wouldn’t trade it for the world.

But that doesn’t mean there aren’t drawbacks. They’re a massive target, to start with. Every enemy he’s faced with half a brain goes after them first, more than a few managing to leave some serious damage. Sure, he can grow more later on, but losing them hurts.

It isn’t the only downside, though.

The bright red wings he bears have to be dispersed for stealth. It takes a lot of concentration to properly wield his Quirk to his full potential. All of his clothes have to be custom-tailored. And sometimes, just sometimes… he gets these strange thoughts.

People with animalistic Quirks often report strange instincts and unusual desires related to their Quirks. To hunt, maybe. Or to hide away in dark spaces.

Keigo knows the feeling. When he was younger, he used to preen his wings with his own mouth, delicately cleaning his feathers with his teeth and tongue. He’s long grown out of that habit, but the urge still persists. He’s also particularly drawn to shiny objects and has a tiny, tucked away desire to collect them. He satiates that urge with sensible things like bracelets and watches.

But what he’s feeling right now isn’t as easy to suppress.

There you sit, all curled up on yourself in the corner, tears dribbling from your eyes. Your arms are wrapped tight around your growling stomach, head buried against your knees.

And his brain tells him that there’s only one solution capable of solving this problem.

Feed you himself.

Of course, he’s not going to feed you like a bird. Even when his Quirk is working against him like this, pitting his brain against his heart, he stays rational. Keigo isn’t quite sure what the exact impact that force-feeding you by mouth would have, but he knows it wouldn’t be good. Potentially trauma-inducing.

It’s much easier and far more sane to gently sit you in front of himself as he navigates a fork to your mouth. He lets you take your time, working through the bowl with you one bite at a time. If you take too long, he doesn’t mind reheating it and sitting back down with you. It might be a little tedious and time-consuming, but he doesn’t really mind.

When he’s done feeding you he tosses the bowl and fork into the sink, not bothering to be gentle about it. He is, however, very gentle about pulling you into his lap, sitting comfortably with you as close as possible. You move to stand up and pull yourself away, but his arms catch you in a hug, snaring you in place. His wings then wrap around you, keeping you as trapped as you are warm.

It feels right, to have you here. To have you close. Your needs met, your comfort assured. Warm, safe, well-fed. What more could anybody want?

Certainly, you couldn’t want to leave the nest he had built just for you, right?

Not that he’d ever give you the chance.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere MHA #Yandere My Hero Academia #Yandere Keigo Takami #Keigo Takami

[pascalispretty]

Love Shack

Joel Miller x GN!Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Joel gets a boner, forced proximity, only one bed, friends to lovers, kissing, implied smut

Summary: Stuck in a tiny cabin in a snowstorm, you and Joel have to share the only bed. And you have to do your best to hide the crush you've been nursing on him. (ao3).

Notes: Another secret santa! This one is for @sp00kymulderr - Merry Christmas lovely!! My thanks as always to @misscharlielulu for listening to me agonise about every tiny detail. Title is silly, but I couldn't think of anything else.

You had been a little intimidated when Joel first showed up in Jackson, his not-daughter trailing behind him. He was tall and broad, and often stomped around town with a face like thunder. Gradually though, he had settled in to life in Jackson. After a winter storm sent a tree branch crashing through your roof, he was put in charge of fixing the hole. A contractor in a former life, according to Maria, he had done his job well.

Being in such proximity to him made you notice new things about him. The softness with which he would speak about Ellie when you offered to give them the game of Jenga that had been on the shelves when you’d moved in. The obvious care he seemed to take in his work. The polite nod and sincere thank you when you made him tea after a long day toiling up on your roof.

The more you came to know Joel, the less intimidating he seemed. It was a sentiment that was shared by many of the people in Jackson. People who went on patrol with him spoke warmly of his talents – his skill at building traps for animals, his talent for picking off Clickers with Tommy’s borrowed sniper rifle.

On the occasions you were assigned to patrol with him, you generally came back to Jackson having learned something new. A different type of snare for rabbits, or a better way to tie a deer he’d shot to one of the horses.

The best thing, though, was the music.

There was a piano in the back of the mess hall that had been there ever since you arrived in Jackson. Gracie, the older lady who’d taken you under her wing when you arrived, had taught you how to play; before the outbreak, she’d given lessons. And, at Ellie’s insistence, Joel had played with you once or twice in the mess hall, accompanying you on the guitar while you played. You wish you had a guitar right now.

It would give Joel something else to focus on other than your current predicament.

The snow hadn’t been that heavy when you left Jackson to go on patrol with Joel. But the snow started coming down so thickly that you could barely see Joel and his horse in front of you, and the wind screamed through the trees like some new and horrifying variant of Infected.

Before long, you and Joel had been left with a choice; to seek shelter where you could, or to try and go back to Jackson. Joel had managed to guide you to a cabin used as an outpost by other patrols. There was a ski resort not far from the town, and little log cabins still dotted the landscape. Half of them were in ruins; one had burned out leaving only the shell of a corner behind.

You, Joel and the horses had crowded into the one that seemed the least derelict. It was a tiny place. The horses were left in the remains of the open space that contained a kitchen and a moth-eaten sofa. It left the small bedroom for you and Joel to hole up in. Sitting awkwardly on the sagging bed, you can hear Joel breaking up some of the remaining furniture in the other room to build a fire.

“This place is barely a cabin,” Joel groused, building the fire up with broken table and chair legs. “It’s a glorified shack.” You carry on crumpling up the pages of an old newspaper you’d found under the bed, gnawing on your lower lip.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you start. He had wanted to try for the lodge further up the hill, but you had been reluctant to push the horses any harder. A deep sigh escapes from him.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for. You were right, we shouldn’t have pushed the horses. ‘s just that this place is so small.” He’s not wrong about that. The bed is shoved right up against the wall, and with the horses in the other room, the only other space is a tiny bathroom you don’t even want to think about right now.

The fire flickers slowly to life, and you and Joel hang up your outer layers to dry. You still wish for music, for something to break the awkward silence between you. The storm shows no sign of letting down; the little cabin holds in the warmth of the fire, but it’s not enough to keep the chill out entirely.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Joel says. “I’ll keep watch in the other room.”

“Who could find us all the way out here, in this storm?” You point out. It’s not like you want to exacerbate the awkwardness in the air, but sharing a bed might at least help keep you both warm.

So the two of you begrudgingly settle into the bed. You lie between Joel and the wall, trying to ignore the draft creeping in from some miniscule crack near your feet. It’s so quiet; the sound of the wind outside is muffled, so only the crackle of the fire and the occasional shift of the horses in the next room disturbs the quiet. When you whisper a ‘good night’ to Joel, it sounds almost deafening in the hush that’s settled over the cabin.

You’re not sure how long you doze for. Only that, when you wake, you realise Joel has moved closer to you in the night. Instead of lying stiffly several inches away, he’s curled around you from behind. And, pressing insistently against the small of your back, Joel is unmistakably hard.

You nearly choke on your own tongue when you realise it, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. He must be having quite the dream. Trapped between his body and the wall, you’re not sure what to do with yourself. You’ve always been painfully aware of how attractive Joel is, but you’ve never considered that he might reciprocate that feeling; you settled for the friendship he slowly offered, the bond over music.

Time is meaningless out here, without even the sun to indicate whether it’s noon or night. You’ve no notion of how long you lie there for, contemplating an escape route. You want to avoid the possibility of an awkward conversation, of Joel getting the slightest hint of your crush on him. Even thinking of it as a crush sounds hopelessly juvenile.

It’s just your luck that a log collapses in the fire, the wood clattering as it rolls out of the fireplace and onto the floor. Joel is up immediately, picking up the unburned end and shoving it back into the fire before it can catch the timber floor. You sit frozen on the bed, unable to speak first, praying that Joel somehow hasn’t even noticed.

“…shit.” Joel still has his back to you, and something sinks in your gut at how disappointed he sounds. “Shit, I’m so- I’m sorry.”

“It happens, don’t worry. It’s just biology.” You shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. There’s the snapping of more wood as Joel vents his frustration on the remaining chair legs, breaking them and throwing them into the fire.

“Feels like a shitty thing to do.”

“Well, you could have bought me a drink first,” you tease. To your surprise he – well, he doesn’t laugh. He more just huffs out of his nose. But he sounds amused by it, at least.

“Now you sound like Ellie. She’s always tryin’ to get me to be nicer to you. Says I owe you a drink every time you let me sing when we play.” Rather than stay awkwardly standing, he opts to kneel by the bed instead. Up close, you can see just how lovely and dark his eyes are, and see the smattering of grey hair in his beard.

“You don’t owe me anything for that. I like it when you sing.” He’d sung the House of the Rising Sun for you by way of an audition, and you’d been immediately enamoured with his rough but lovely voice. It reminds you of the country singers that Eugene listens to on tape.

“Well, I like it when you play.” Joel’s eyes sweep over you, and he gives another deep sigh. “I am sorry. ‘s not fair to you.”

“Joel, it’s really okay. I didn’t mind.” Are you crazy, or did he look at you with more interest when you said that?

“How can you not mind some old man groping you in your sleep?” He asks, shaking his head. “I understand if you don’t wanna go on patrol with me any more when we get back, I can talk to Tommy-”

“Joel,” you say firmly, cutting him off. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, but you push on. “I really didn’t mind. Really. And I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to get back up here with me.” You might have just ruined whatever friendship you had with him, but you can’t bear him beating himself up over it any longer. He raises an eyebrow at you, eyes skimming over your body.

“You wouldn’t mind?” He asks eventually, leaning in closer.

“No. I- I want you to.” You worry you sound pathetic, but Joel doesn’t seem to think so. His eyes watching your face closely for any sign of discomfort, he climbs back onto the bed and lies down beside you. Your faces are only inches apart. You have nothing else to lose, certainly no dignity left.

You lean in and kiss him.

His lips are soft and full against yours, and Joel barely hesitates before he’s kissing you back. You have no idea if your friendship will be salvageable after this, but right now, with Joel’s lips against yours, you’re not sure you care. One of his large hands rests on your waist, pulling your body closer to him as he deepens the kiss.

Later, when the fire has died down, and the storm is starting to abate, you’ll wonder how exactly it happened. How your clothes came to be strewn about the tiny bedroom, how Joel’s come ended up drying on your thigh.

But right now, you’re content to melt into Joel and enjoy whatever he has to give you.

Taglist:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots @its-nebuleuse @irishavengersassemble

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedrostories #pedrostoriesgift23

[artists-ally]

{Weather} Azriel x Reader

Hello people! My name is Ally and I am proud to enter the ACOTAR world with a bang. I've been writing for years and years now and thought eh fuck it why not start posting it.

So here I am. 100% not expecting this to go anywhere but if it does, come give me a shout! I'd love to hear what y'all have to say about it or hear your ideas for fic recommendations.

There isn't a whole lot of plot, just a thought that turned into another and I connected them. Enjoy!

Word Count ~ 7,523

Warnings ~ Language, blood, hurt/comfort, fluff, violence/fighting, lets all pretend that you can winnow inside the House of Wind for a sec pls.

Summary ~ You have been encompassed into the Inner Circle after the Spring Court went to shit. During a dry stead between the Queens and Hybern, Azriel was sent on a mission to the Mortal Lands to see what was going on. There is little he can do to hide his rather harsh expedition. Set during ACOWAR, you provide a level of comfort for the shadowsinger that no one else is capable of.

~~~~~

All of us are sitting around the House of Wind, relaxing after another brutal day of training. I had been with Cassian, Mor with Rhysand and Feyre, Amren off doing Amren things. Azriel was… nowhere to be found. 

It’s been a few days since anyone has heard from him. We know he’s been spying in the Queen’s territory, but to not have a check in or for him to not come home to rest for days on end is concerning.

But what makes my gut churn is the smell of blood coming from upstairs. 

Azriel’s blood. 

Rhys and Cass get a whiff of their brothers' carnage and exchange a worried look with me. The three of us winnow up to his room and knock on his door.

“Az?” Cass says softly.

No response.

“Azriel, it’s Rhys, open the door,” Rhysand knocks a little harsher than Cassian had. 

No response. They can hear his labored breathing and groans, and the smell of blood. They didn’t bother to knock a third time. When his door unlocked on a phantom wind, the sight was horrifying. Az peered over his shoulder at the curse coming from Cass, and shook his head.

“I don’t want visitors,” he mumbled, trying to stand, but failing to do so. Rhys and Cassian rushed to his side, helping him sit back down. I remained in the doorway. Staring at his wings.

They were a little mangled to say the least. Cuts and scratches littered the delicate leather, some puncture wounds oozed trickles of blood and puss. 

“What in the name of the Cauldron happened?” Cassian demanded from the shadowsinger. 

“Tree snare, Mortal lands are littered with them,” He groaned. “I’m fine, please just- please leave.”

He never begged quite like that before. The desperation was a foreign thing to his tongue. He tried to straighten his spine, but it did no such thing. He hissed at the jarring of his wings, and settled into the curves of his hunched over position.

He looked awful. 

“Az, we can’t just leave you like this. We can get Madja in here-”

“No,” he plead again, tone more harsh than the last. “No… leave. I don’t want any help.”

Typical of Az to say such a thing. The quiet, reserved male was always so adamant about doing things on his own he forgot that sometimes it’s better to ask for help than to suffer in silence. Especially when it comes to such a delicate and sensitive body part. 

But alas, the two brothers nodded, stepping around the third and heading to the door. I moved out of their way, but not with them. I just continue to stare at his toned, berated back. 

“Yn…” he called out. “Don’t make me beg you too.”

I stiffened. 

I knew how hard this must be for him. To turn down his friends, to turn down aid. I don’t know Azriel very well, not like the others did after spending five centuries with him. But maybe that would… I don’t know

“I won’t say anything,” I promised. “Just let me clean you up, is all I’m asking.”

He sighed heavily, hanging his head in his hands, but he nodded. I quickly shut the door behind me and moved to the bathroom. Under his sink there was a little brown pouch with all kinds of medical supplies. I grabbed some towels and a bowl of hot water appeared by his feet. When I walked back into the main area, he had his chin fastened on his fist, looking out the big window. 

I stood next to him laying the open bag next to him so I could rummage through it. There were some wipes, some bandages and some thick cloth pads. I ripped open as many as I thought I needed and began to apply pressure to the wounds on his arms and shoulders. 

Az held a few while I drenched a cloth with the warm water and began to clean off the dirt and sap. 

He didn’t even seem to breathe, to even blink as I ran the cloth up and down his right arm, ditching it on the floor when it was too dirty to continue. I repeated my steps until the majority of him was clean. The bleeding had stopped for the most part and I applied an adhesive pad to the area to keep it covered. I couldn’t smell any infection on them so it was okay to conceal the wounds. Had there been a sticky, yellow goo then they would need to drain. 

Then I looked at his wings.

They weren’t shredded, but they were not in good condition by any means. They looked so painful.

I silently moved to the opposite side of the bed, kneeling into the mattress and spreading out more supplies.

“I-” he started, “please be gentle…”

“Of course,” I nodded, resting my hand on his shoulder to try and get them to relax. They sagged a bit, but didn’t stay there long. The second my fingers grazed the smooth flesh, he jumped.

“Sorry, sorry,” I mumbled, retracting my hands. “What hurts?”

“No, no it’s not painful, just very sensitive, I’ll try to hold still,” he apologized, displaying his wings, stretching them out all the way as if to brace them against the bed. They were massive. And most of the small cuts and snags littered the top and middle of the span, not towards the bottom. 

“This might sting a little, if it’s too much, tell me, and I’ll stop.”

He nodded, clutching the tops of his knees. His breathing was hard as I dabbed the first cotton ball to the sore area. It had been rubbed raw from Mother knows what. 

There had to be hundreds of them, if not a thousand scrapes and scratches. But they all didn’t need tending to, they would heal just fine. There were a few that I was concerned about and applied something to keep the bacteria from spreading. 

I gently slid my hand to his shoulder, pressing it down from his ear, telling him it was okay, that he was alright. 

He listened, settling down. I knew he must be in a lot of pain. There wasn’t much that I could’ve done beside what I did, but I did as much as I could to ease the tension. I summoned another rag and gently cleaned the skin on his back, wiping the mud baked onto his skin. Az relaxed more at that.

“I know it’s not really my place to ask, but if you would like to share what happened, I will patiently listen, Azriel. If not, I’ll enjoy the silence with you,” I offered, my hands coming to his shoulders, massaging the thick muscle.

He groaned in satisfaction, dipping his head forward and sagging downward. His arms slumped to his side as I drove my knuckle between the fibrous strands. Az ground his teeth, breathing with every knot I worked from his body. I drove my thumb in and around the base of his wings, careful not to brush against them.

Cassian had once told how sensitive Illyrian wings were. Why they were so sensitive. It made my cheeks blush, which I was taunted for endlessly. 

Azriel sucked in a breath.

I had been too busy thinking about all the things Cass and Rhys had teased me with and my thumb slipped, brushing the delicate nerves at the base of his spine. I could see the goosebumps etch his bronze skin. 

“S-Sorry,” I stuttered, fingers trembling, struggling to resume. “Do you need anything else? Can I get you something to drink or eat?”

I stood before he had a chance to say otherwise. I didn’t, truly didn’t, mean to brush over the hyper-sensitive area. 

Azriel just looked up at me with full eyes. They looked like strangers, not the deep, fierce set of hazel that I had come to know. They were like the shadows that whispered in his ear. There hadn’t been a glimpse of them in the hour or so that I’d been here tending to him. It’s as if they’ve vanished. 

His eyes were bright, filled with his pupils in a way that made him seem feline. Like a true predator hunting in the pit of night. 

“I…” Az started, swallowing hard before his eyes darted between mine. “Will you stay? Please?”

He reached his hand to grab mine, and I let him, his warm, scarred hands engulfing mine. I nodded precisely, a smile playing on my lips. He seemed to deflate then, a weight being lifted off his shoulders and he dragged me closer, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his head against my stomach. 

I let my arms fall over his shoulders, the strands of his inky black hair finding its way into my fingers. I tangled it between my digits gently, letting the soft curls form as I brushed them away, repeating the process. 

I had no idea how long we stayed there for, but enough for the once dimly lit room to ignite with fae light as the sun set over the Sidra. 

Azriel began to tug me closer. I had no choice but to crawl into his lap, letting my weight rest over one of his legs as he clung to me. 

I didn’t dare try and break this moment. 

I nestled into the dip between his shoulder and neck, letting my eyes lull shut as his warm body did the same. I let my thumbs brush against the smooth skin on the back of his shoulder, wanting to press a kiss there, but… not my place, I reminded myself. 

I had always cared for the Illyrian more than the others had. Was always the one wondering if what his shadows were whispering were things to him or about him. I knew he had a traumatic pass, and I knew he suffered a great deal during the early years of his immortal life, but things were… they weren’t great, but we were in a lull. With Hybern. Things were stalled so we took this time to cut back.

Not Az. He was always spying somewhere, reporting on new territories siding with us or the King, but nothing more. We all knew he needed a break, but never took one. It was frustrating. 

He shifted on the bed, then I felt a gust of wind encase my body. 

His wings enveloped me entirely.

I had not expected it. I was shocked to say the least. I tensed for a moment, and he must have sensed it because he began to retreat.

“No, no” I said, adjusting myself on his muscular thigh for a moment. “Put them back.”

He answered with the leathery wings covering us completely. I settled into the warmth, the soft scent they admitted. I had never felt so safe in my entire life, so completely safe and comforted. 

I didn’t know a lot about Illyrian tradition since I had been encompassed into the inner circle, but I knew enough that it was a great honor to see a pair of wings up close, let alone touch them. If he had let me do that, gods only knew what this meant.

I felt a tear hit my shirt. I heard him sniffle, then hiccup in a breath.

“Azriel…” I breathed out slowly, gripping him tighter as he clung to me, the sobs wracking through his body. He gasped for a breath every now and then, the tears falling faster with every breath. 

He cried for a long while. I wasn’t even sure if he knew how to do that. To cry, to be vulnerable with anyone. 

“It’s okay, Az, I’m here, I’m right here Az it’s okay,” I soothed, twisting his hair around my fingers once again. His breathing seemed to even out at that, sobs reduced to trickling tears and sniffles. 

I didn’t know what to do. 

I didn’t know what to say.

Thankfully, he spoke. “I don’t know what you did, Yn… but you made the shadows go away. It is so quiet without their roar in my ear. In my bones… everything is silent. There are no whispers, no murmurs of potential threat. It is all quiet.”

My heart thundered in my chest so hard I thought it might break my rib cage. There were no words to describe the feeling in my body. I gripped him even tighter.

His hands stroked up and down my sides, gently nudging me to pull off. I did, meeting his glossy eyes and tear stained cheeks. His hand ever so gently came up to my face, fingers barely touching the surface of my skin as he looked into my eyes. So deep I thought he might see my thoughts. 

“Thank you,” was all he said. I nodded and smiled, tucking the hair behind his ears. “Besides Madja and my own mother, I have never let anyone touch my wings. Not even Rhys or Cassian. They are… my entire world. The most prized possession any Illyrian could hoist. They are my ticket to anywhere in the world and I let you touch them without a second thought.”

My eyes had widened at that. 

“In 500 years,” I gaped, “you’ve never let either of them touch your wings? Once?”

He shook his head, “Never. It is a privilege that few get to experience. Typically just mothers to their newborns, but once you learn to fly, you’re old enough to take care of them on your own. It becomes our responsibility to keep them safe and keep them clean. Of course there may be a medical need, but other than that, they are not to be touched. Only mates have that sacred right.”

My heart clenched. 

I’ve only been a part of this group since the middle of the war. I had left the Spring Court when Feyre had planted those lies. They spread to my territory and we all went our separate way. For the better. I chose to come and fight for what we all knew was right. I can’t say the same for the rest of my family. 

I had managed to hitch a few rides to Summer, right before Adrita was attacked. I fought alongside them, and none of them knew that I was from Spring besides Feyre. She had recognized me for the Tithe. We instantly connected and she offered me sanctuary with them while we fought against Hybern. I had exceptional knowledge of the Spring Court and The Wall, of who was going where and when. 

When we came back to Velaris, I was introduced to Amren, who just briefly looked up from that book, took a sip from a gauntlet, gave me a cold once-over, and went right back to the book. 

Nesta was much the same.

Elain hadn’t said much either, just asked me if I knew anything about the human lands. I was later informed on her betrothed. It made my heart hurt. 

Mor was undoubtedly my best friend. She really helped me get settled here in Velaris. She was the one to pick me up time and time again when I didn’t think I could go on. 

Rhysand was more of a gentleman than anyone painted him to be, especially all those years Under The Mountain. He was not a hostile homicidal maniac like Amarantha had painted for him. He was gentle, and kind, only being capable of those horrible things when he needed to be. 

Cassian was… well, Cassian. Big, strong, charming as ever. Dumber than a pile of rocks but a brute of a man nonetheless. He was my other best friend. My go-to drinking buddy and my favorite person to beat at cards. I would come with him and Nesta to Windhaven. He was not merciful. 

And then there was Azriel. He rarely spoke when he wasn’t prompted. He kept to himself, to those shadows, and wasn’t one for conversation. I had only spoken to him three or four times. Most of them during the war, once during Solstice to give him his gift. It was usually just… so, between us. 

Until now.

Until he let me touch his wings. 

Could it have been a possibility that-

As if he knew what I was thinking, “I didn’t know how to bring it up to you, Yn. I didn’t want to at first, cause I didn’t think you felt anything. Any type of bond. And I certainly didn’t want to bring it up right in the middle of the war, risk death, and then leave you alone forever. I couldn’t bring myself to leave you with that type of pain.”

My eyes stung. My heart thundered. Every fiber in my body became aware of just how close I was to him. I took in a deep breath, eyes blinking rapidly.

“If you… I don’t know if that is what you want,” he hesitated. “If I am what you want, but you are everything I’ve ever needed, Yn. You are the sunshine to my dark and hazy life. The only thing that can make my deep, roaring shadows disappear. Completely. It is calm and utterly silent when you are near. And when I get to hold you… Cauldron Yn, it is like a fresh breath of air. Like a torrential rain to my wildfire. It hasn’t been this quiet inside my body since the day I was born.”

There was nothing I could do to stop the tears from flowing. They hit the clothing between us, saturating the fabric and then drying. I didn’t know what to say. And I could tell that was killing him, my silence. He tensed beside me, gripping my arms a little tighter.

“Yn” he breathes, so softly. So gently than anyone ever had. 

I looked into his eyes, finding them to be so much more breathtaking than I did a little while ago.

“I don’t know what to say, Azriel,” I chuckled lightly. “I’m shocked, I just thought that you and Mor…”

“No,” he shook his head adamantly, “Not us. Not ever, I’m afraid. I spent a long time trying to… coax her, but she never budged. I decided I needed to look for someone else. For you.”

I smiled greatly. 

“Stay with me, tonight,” he grabbed both of my hands, placing kisses to each of them before folding them against his heart. “Let me give this to you, slowly, at your own pace. It is yours, Yn. It always has been. Let it be yours, if you choose.”

His eyes, glowing and begging me to say something. When he pressed his lips to my hands, I could feel my chest tighten in a way it hadn’t before, constrict around itself until it let loose and erupted from within. Everything I had hoped for, spent countless hours dreaming of, pestering my mother about stories of when she found out my father was her mate, came true at that moment. 

An unrelenting pull in his direction, a deceptively overwhelming feeling of trust and sureness that seemed to never end crashed through me. It was like I was looking at him for the first time. Like I opened my eyes and the first images I was blessed with seeing were of him, of Azriel, this shadowsinger and spymaster of the Night Court. 

A piece of a puzzle locked into place, one that I hadn’t even known existed yet. And here it was, front and center in my mind, so clear it almost blinded me. 

All I could do was smile. Smile and nod my head as I watched his teeth flash before he wrapped me up in his arms. He giggled, tossing me over his shoulder and rolling me around on his enormous bed. I laughed and laughed, letting him pepper my skin with kisses. 

“You have no idea how long I have waited for this, Yn,” He sighed, propping himself up on one elbow, clutching my fingers in the other. “How long I have needed a mate.”

“I think I might have an idea,” I smiled, tucking some hair behind his ear. He rolled his eyes, scooping me up and laying me on top of his chest.

Cauldron knows how long we stayed like that for, just talking and smiling at each other, kissing every now and then. When I grew too tired to keep my head up, his wings encased me again, that soft, musky scent circling around me. 

“Rest, my Yn,” he whispered, his arms coming around my waist. “We can talk all day tomorrow.”

+++++++

The sun made him look like the most perfect shade of bronze. His dark, inky hair was a mess over his eyes, his tattoos swirling across his shoulders. His wings were still folded around me, keeping my body pressed to his all night long. 

Azriel slept, another thing I wasn’t sure he actually knew how to do. 

I shifted my legs around, detangling them from his. He groaned, but let them go, only tightening his grip around my torso.

“Az,” I whispered, "we need to get up, training is in an hour.”

“Five more minutes,” he grumbled, tucking his head beneath my chin. The hair on his head smelled like the Sidra; salty and lemony. So calming and soothing. I let him, and myself, have a few more minutes, just basking in each other. But I eventually did have to be the fun killer.

“I’m sure Cassian will understand if you don’t want to train today, but I unfortunately don’t have any excuse. I have to get ready and go eat before I go. Let me up, please.”

He let go reluctantly, making a big huff as I climbed away from him.

I laughed, “You know I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Yes, but I wanted to spend this morning with you. I want to spend all my time with you.”

My heart swooned. “Come to breakfast with me. Even if you don’t want to train you can still come and watch.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, but followed me nonetheless. I got changed into my fighting leathers, and Az strolled behind me to the dining room. I greeted everyone like I normally would, as did Azriel. They could instantly tell, because he wore a smile on his lips the entire meal, taking up the empty seat next to me, which normally was Mor’s.

When she strolled in, she gave him a high eyebrow and he shrugged. She looked at me and I had to suck my lips into my mouth to keep from cackling out. I mouthed ‘I'll tell you later’.

When I rose from my seat, so did Azriel, following me into the kitchen.

“When will you be back?” He asked softly, cradling me close.

“By noon, Mor and I have some work we need to do at Rita’s,” I responded, falling into his warmth. “Are you going to be alright here?”

He nodded against my shoulder, “I just don’t want you to go, is all. I’m enjoying the peace and quiet.”

My heart sank at that. I was just happy to offer him at least some moments of rest in his utterly chaotic life. If I was able to give him any sort of relief, I’d stop at nothing to make sure that he has access to it whenever he pleases. Who was I to deny him of that?

He stepped away, pressing his lips into my forehead a few times. 

“Have a good training session, please don’t get beat up too bad, I have plans for later,” he smiled, rubbing the sides of my arms.

“Oh?” I tilted my head.

“It’s a surprise, now get going, Cass is waiting for you.”

“Don’t blow a gasket when I come back with bruises from him,” I chuckled. 

He straightened, real concern coming into his eyes. “Maybe I should come-”

“No, no I’ll be okay,” I explained. “Cassian has beat my ass more times than I could count and you were able to hold it in. I’ll be fine, it’s never anything too bad anyway, nothing I can’t handle. I'd really rather not see you bash his face in because he got in a couple of good shots.”

That didn’t make it any better. His grip tightened, his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched. 

“Hey!” Cassian called from down the hall. “Put your lover's quarrel on hold, we gotta go, Yn. If you’re not out here in 30 seconds I’ll make you go up and down the steps every second you’re late.”

I rolled my eyes, impatient bastard.

“I need to go,” I said, removing his hands from my body. “I will come find you when I’m back. Try and relax, okay? I’ll be fine, you know that.”

He just nods briefly before stepping out of the way to let me pass. He caught my elbow at the last second, kissing me so intensely I thought I might fall over. When he let me go, he was smirking like a cat. 

++++++

The bond must have already been slipping into place because I could feel this agonizing pull back to the House of Wind. But it also felt like he was right here with me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was spying from the shadows, something for him and I to talk about later.

Cassian and I had gone through our normal workouts, doing footwork drills and some strength training. But of course, even after almost collapsing to the floor himself, he wanted to spar. 

“Can’t we just skip it for today?” I begged, rolling my head to look at him. 

“Nope,” he said with a grin. “You need more practice, and I know it’ll come in handy against Hybern. If you ever find yourself without a weapon, all you’ll have is your fists. And seeing the look on Az’s face will be priceless.”

“You know,” it wasn’t really a question.

“I’ve known before he has,” Cassian huffed. “I pointed it out to him after about three times of you being near him. His shadows always disappeared and I found him staring at you. He didn’t even realize, said that he hadn’t even noticed things were quiet because he was too busy thinking of you.”

My heart lurched in my chest, filling with pride and triumph. “I don’t know what it is that I do.”

“Nothing,” he shrugged. “That is the whole point of being a mate, things just simply work.”

“I have given it a ton of thought in the past, about what it would feel like to have a mate, to have a bond with someone. It’s… so much different than I expected it to be. I miss him so much more than I thought I would. I thought I’d be able to ignore it, but I can’t.”

“Welcome to having a mate,” Cassian snickered, taking up a fighting stance. I followed suit, circling around him and dodging his blows. I wasn’t lucky enough to escape them all, one particularly hard kick sent me to my knees, and then Cassian was on top of me. 

He flatten me like a bug and flipped me on my back. His forearm pressed into my throat, cutting off oxygen. I coughed, blood rushing to my face, my vision darkening. 

“Come on, Yn, what have I taught you to do?” he pressed further into my esophagus. I drove my knee as hard as I could into his crotch, causing him to hiss, loosening his grip, faltering. 

I smacked him as hard as I could in the face, sending him toppling to the ground. It had been hard, harder than I really meant to. I could see his eyes darken as he rose to his feet, really wanting a challenge now. He started to run towards me, and I braced myself for the impact, but it never came. 

I saw a shadow blurr by and Cassian was vaulted 12 feet in the air. He made a dent in the earth as he drove through the soil. In seconds, he was encased in tendril like smoke. One that I recognized all too well.

“Az-”

“I am going to kill you,” the voice was so foreign. Azriel straddled Cassian as he held him up by the collar of his shirt. “How dare you put your hands on my mate.”

I climbed through the ropes of the ring as fast as I could, jumping down and off the platform. I sprinted the distance between us as fast as I could. I screamed his name, but couldn’t hear me over the roar of the shadows. 

Before I could get there, Cassian had thrown him off and was ready to fight. The two went at each other so hard I was genuinely worried that Azriel was going to hurt him. I didn’t know what else to do, so I took off towards the townhouse. 

I barged in the door, huffing puffing, and red faced as the door smacked off the wall. 

“Cauldron alive, Cassian, how many times have I told you not- Yn?” Rhysand’s eyes immediately softened. “Are you alright?” “I was sparring with Cassian and Azriel came out of nowhere,” I rushed, barely able to speak over my labored breathing. “Last night he told me I’m his mate and I think he might actually kill-”

“Oh shit,” Rhys cursed, grabbing my arm and winnowing us both to the sight. They were still scrapping, both bleeding from the face. Azriel looked like an animal, and Cass looked like he was genuinely afraid. I haven’t ever seen him look like this, either of them. 

Rhys threw himself in the middle, trying to get Azriel’s attention. He paid no mind to his High Lord, throwing him off his back as he lunged for Cassian again. I went to step in, to try and get his attention but-

“Yn no,” Rhysand shouted from a few feet away. That caught Azriel’s attention quickly. He looked up from where he had Cassian in a chokehold, eyes locking with mine. In a second, he vanished from Cass and appeared behind me. His arms were strong and tight around my middle. A snarl ripped from his chest as Cassian rose to his shaky feet. 

His shadows encased us, creating a shield. He took staggering steps back, inhaling and exhaling so hard I thought he might pass out. Rhysand moved to check on his brother, Cassian battering him away as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

“Azriel,” I said through a hurried breath. “Az it’s me, it’s me.”

He inhaled deep, scenting the air, letting out a deep breath. His grip loosened and he said my name like an old forgotten prayer. 

The shadows vanished immediately, his heavy body leaning against mine. 

“Yn…” he breathed, turning me around. I shrugged his hands off of me, more than pissed at him for barging and attempting to kill his brother. 

“Go inside,” I said, turning away from him. 

“Yn please-” “I don’t wanna hear it from you,” I shouted, eyes blazing. He took a small step back, ears flattening back against his head, wings tucking in tightly to his body. 

“That’s right, shadowsinger, go back-”

“Not another word from you either,” I snarled at Cassian. He, too, jumped in his skin. “You have nothing to brag about either. Don’t you dare put your hands on my mate like that again.”

Silence rippled around us. Rhys lifted his hand, opened his mouth to say something, but the glare I sent him had him scratching the back of his head quickly. 

“I swear to the Mother that if anything happens while I’m with Mor at Rita’s, I’ll kick all of your asses myself. And don’t think for a second that I won’t drag Feyre into this either.”

That was more than enough to get the Illyrians to look the other way, words forgotten in their minds. I turned on my heel and grabbed my water from the corner before stalking off down the street to find Mor. 

++++++

“He just appeared out of thin air?” Mor’s eyes were wide.

I nodded, “It was like he was waiting for something to happen. He would have killed Cassian, I’m sure of it, if Rhys hadn’t been there, and said my name to snap Az out of it.”

“Sounds like someone needs a little time alone with their new mate,” Mor’s eyebrows waggled on her forehead. I smacked her arm and she boomed a laugh. “I’m just suggesting.”

“It hasn’t even been a day since he told me, Mor, and he’s acting like he owns me. Rhys didn’t dare do this with Feyre,” I shook my head. 

“Well,” she countered. “Rhys did almost kill Cassian once.”

“I know, I’ve heard the story a million times,” I sighed. “But that was after the Weaver and all that. They had mated and had time for the bond to be in place. There weren’t any problems until that and Az and I have barely kissed a handful of times. That’s it. How can he be this… territorial?”

“Az is unexplainably protective. Of all of us. Before you came along he was like that with all of us. In a different way, but… he’d never let any of us volunteer before he looked into it or did it himself. It is rooted deep within him, in a way none of us will understand.” “Even so, it doesn’t make it okay for him to do what he did.” “I don’t disagree,” she added, “but just try and understand where he is coming from. Yn, you are the only one who he has come across that can make his head silent. To stop the shadows and the constant whispers. I don’t know about you, but if that were me, I’m sure I’d do everything in my power to make sure nothing ever happens to my peace and quiet.”

+++++

When I came back with More, she bid me good luck before Winnowing herself back down to the Townhouse.

I came to the main dining room, Cassian, Rhysand and Feyre all sitting at the table. 

“Okay, what the hell happened today?” Feyre demanded, noticing the bruises on my neck. 

“I’m surprised you don’t already know,” I snorted, letting down my shields so she could see it all. She flinched slightly when Az landed a particularly brutal blow to Cassian’s face. It sent blood spewing from his mouth.

“Has anyone seen him?” I asked with a sigh. No one answered, but I heard something. I whipped my head from side to side, this deafening roar in my ears. 

“What?” Rhysand asked. 

“You all don’t hear that?” I asked, eyes wide as I searched for the thunderous sound. I listened deeper and deeper, not hearing any words. I suddenly felt a chill in my bones so cold I thought I’d freeze right there. There were so many voices and whispers. 

I looked up to the set of grand stirs and noticed the shadows lurking at the top. 

Azriel… 

I sprinted up the stairs, the tendrils leading me down the hall and to his room. When I opened the door, the room was almost pitch black, shadows swirling around and around like an endless storm over the Sidra. 

I tried to push my way through, but I rebound off of it like a shield. I tried again, screaming his name. He was in the center. And I had no way of getting to him. I began to panic, shouting for him louder and louder.

Nothing, no response from my shadowshinger. I took a deep breath and shoved my body against the wall, bouncing off of it immediately. I slammed hard against the floor, back groaning as I pushed myself to all fours. I tried to crawl, but it was no use, it flung me back and into the hallway where Ryhs, Cassian, and Feyre were all standing, Mor popping up next to her.

“What the fuck-” Mor gasped, seeing it for herself. 

“He’s in there,” I heaved, “Mor I can’t get to him what do I do?”

She was at a loss for words and Rhys slid beside her, taking it all in. He did nothing to hide his wide eyes and frantic look. His own shadows rose and tried to comfort the tempest, but failed. The roar in my ears grew so loud I couldn’t hear whatever Rhysand said to me. I tried to read his lips, follow the bond.

I felt deep inside, it was so cold. If I didn’t know any better I wouldn’t have known anything was there at all. I pulled and pulled and pulled and pulled. I must have screamed because everyone around me flinched. I went slack against the wall and covered my ears, calling out for Azriel. Begging for him to come to me. 

A flicker. I felt a flicker of warmth in my chest. Against my soul, I felt a tug, as if he too was pulling on the same thread that ties us together. I pulled faster and faster until I slammed into something so hard I gasped. 

It was rock solid, something so impenetrable, like magic itself. I beat on it with everything I had, prying at it with my whole being until it began to give away. I tore this wall apart, it grew warmer and warmer-

She doesn’t want a mate, she doesn’t want me…

There is no meaning if I do not have her to protect, she doesn’t want me to protect her.

Useless, dumb, bastard born Illyrian filth.

Rhysand and Cassian should have left you in that acid bath and left you to dissolve into nothing. They should not have saved someone so vain and cowardly.

These were not my thoughts, but they sure felt like it. I looked towards the swirling wind and shadow, finally seeing Azriel at the center, crumbled to the floor, hands over his ears. 

“Azriel,” I shouted. He didn’t move.

“What’s happening?” Rhysand asked, helping me to stand on my feet.

“I-I don’t know I just felt this rush of thoughts and now I can see him but he can’t hear me,” I felt the tears in my eyes. He looked around, as if searching for his own thoughts, but then he stood rigid, throwing a glance at Cassian. They seemed to share a thought before Rhys turned back to me. 

“Speak in your mind,” he said hurriedly. “You have to talk to him in your mind.”

“Wha-”

“Just do it,” he urged, and I turned back to face the raging storm. 

Azriel… I whispered. 

I watched him flinch, hand bracing on the corner of his bed. His eyes and cheeks were wet with tears when they met mine. 

Yn… 

Az you have to take this down so I can get to you, I begged, it’s too strong for me to get through let me in.

He went silent.

Az please let me in. I can make the shadows go away, remember? I can make all of this go away, you just have to calm it down enough for me to get to you.

I can’t.

Why?

I am the shadows, and they are me.

“What is he saying?” Rhysand asked. 

“He just said he can't tame them, that he is the shadows and they are him,” I shook my head, threading my fingers in my hair. “I can help him but I can’t get to him.”

“Do you trust me?” he asked, eyes wary.

“With my life, High Lord,” I said, because it was true. 

He grabbed my hand and the familiar hollowness of winnowing encased me. He tried to drop me right next to Az, but it seemed to be warded. I was instantly flung away from him and hit the wall so hard I saw stars. Feyre came to my side immediately as the bright light in the hallway dimmed. 

I forced myself up and boiled with rage. How dare he, my mate, keep me from him. I trudged forward, a small limp to my gate but I kept on pressing, despite the protests from behind me. I came to the whirling wind and shadow, staring at it. 

I placed my palm against it and closed my eyes. 

I know this is you, shadowsinger. These shadows, this wall… but it is not Azriel, not my mate. He would never keep me away. He’d want me right next to him, holding him as we weather this storm together. I know you are one in the same, and I know I make you go away and you are angry. He is the shadows, and you are him. I am his mate, meaning he is a part of me. I am the sun that casts the shadows you need. I am the maker of your shadows. Without one there cannot be another, without my mate there is no one to harness your strength. Let me in, let me cast the sunshine so that your shadows may sing once again.

There was almost a noise of discontent before the roar in my ear withered away. It disbanded like fog in the early spring mornings. The wind and shadows misted away, the room and hallway no longer swirling in a veil of darkness. 

In the center of the room shook Azriel, arms trembling as he looked around at the sudden brightness. 

I didn’t know I even gave my feet permission to move until I was collapsing into his lap. I hiccuped a sob so hard I thought my lungs burst open. 

Azriel buried his face into my neck, breath just as ragged. I cried uncontrollably, crushing him with my arms, I’m sure. 

I felt warmth and tenderness encase my body. I felt a tap against my shields and I let them down, welcoming Az’s shadows without a second thought. His thoughts became mine, and vice versa. There wasn’t a part of us in that moment that wasn’t connected. Our minds, our hearts, our souls seemed to tangle in each other. 

It must’ve been a long while before we detangled because everyone had left. 

I, begrudgingly, pulled myself from him, sitting up to look at his tear stained face.

“Don’t you dare do something like that ever again,” I breathed, resting my forehead against his. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be that harsh with Cassian-”

“What?” I asked, brows knitting together. “No no no, not that, whatever the hell that shadow wall was.”

“You’re not mad at me for beating the shit out of Cassian?” He asked, equally as confused.

“Well,” I sighed. “I’m not happy about it, but for the love of the Mother if you ever shut me out like that again, when I break through, I will kill you.”

It was a promise so deep even he knew it was true. He just nodded, kissing both of my cheeks before my lips. 

“I’m sorry, Yn,” a tear trickled down my face. “I saw Cassian choking you and on top of you and it blinded me with a rage so unexplainable. I don’t even remember doing it. It was an afterthought by the time I came out of it. And you looked so infuriated at me I just- I panicked. It had been so quiet for a good while it was like I forgot about the shadows entirely and they took over my being. It was so foreign and strange and they rained down upon me with such vengeance-”

“I know, I know,” I said, combing his hair with my fingers. “We… had a talk. We came to an agreement.”

“Agreement? A bargain?” he asked, a little concerned. 

I shook my head, “no, not a bargain. We just saw eye to eye on things. A favor, I guess you could call it.” I let the words I had once spoken filter into his mind. Azriel had this starry look in his eyes when the words were over with. 

“You talked to the shadows…” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. “H-How did you-”

“Rhys tried to winnow me to you but it must’ve been warded because the next thing that I knew was the wall against my back,” I hissed as his hands crept up my shoulder. His touch was featherlight as he examined, lifting up my shirt to reveal the bruises forming along my spine. 

“Yn… Yn I am so sorry I hurt you…” his eyes feel so dark, I worried for a second that another tempest was coming. 

“No, Azriel look at me,” I grabbed his face between my hands and made him look up at me. “This was not your fault. You and the shadows are not the same thing. You two, like I said, may share the same being, but you are not your shadows. You are Azriel, my Azriel.”

The color came back to his eyes almost instantly. There was a new set of tears in his face as he landed on my chest, arms tightening around my waist. 

“Thank you, Yn… for seeing me, not just the shadows.”

#ally writes #praying that the tags will bring me some traction #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acowar #acotar fandom #a court of thorns and roses #sjm #rhysand #cassian acotar #feyre archeron #writing #writeblr

[k-looking-glass-house]

What if Crowley uses "bird" vocabulary like Floyd with his marine nicknames....

Yes he's a crow ... Just imagine if he sees us as biiiiird~

Of course it's just my point of view, I am not a professional in ornithology, you might have your own idea about this one and I would definitely want to hear about it!

Mostly they are birds we could see in my country...

Let's go:

Ombrorio

Grim(m) -> Grey catbird (grey like Grimm, striped wings and can make cat noise....yes)

Yuu(sona) -> Sparrow (Crowley would definitely call Yuu a little sparrow....)

Night Raven College staff

Sam -> Painted bunting (small, vibrant, colorful, a rare sight to view)

Mozus Trein -> Eurasian skylark (classy, well known literally a french song about this bird "he sung it to Lucius as a kitten")

Ashton Vargas -> Pheasant (....the irony as his Disney counterpart is an hunter, but vibrant color)

Divus Crewel -> Great spotted woodpecker (literally screaming I am Cruella, fashion red, black and white bird)

Heartslabyul

Ace Trappola -> Nothern cardinal (red... funky feather style, fights their own mirror reflection...)

Deuce Spade -> Blue slaty bunting

Riddle Roseheart -> Robin (Hi Ciel Phantomhive...I mean Kuroshitsuji ref but look that little red face)

Trey Clover -> Nightingale (sorry Trey...Crowley is implying you can either sing...or can't...but you do have a perfect voice!)

Cater Diamond -> Pyrrhula (I love this little bird too....they became very rare by now, look this tiny orange one)

(Heartslabyul are literally the birds of Aurora in 2d "Sleeping beauty")

Savannaclaw

Jack Howl -> Owl (....this one is pretty obvious)

Leona Kingscholar -> "Savanna" eagle (yes... definitely a strong bird)

Ruggie Bucchi -> Speckled mousebird (listen to that bird you'll understand, also....that feather hairstyle!)

Octavinelle

Jade Leech -> Emperor penguin (tall...classy ...can't fly pfff)

Azul Ashengrotto -> Nothern gannet (verrryyy big, analystic-smart one, can't walk on land...)

Floyd Leech -> Snare penguin (unique appareance, multiple various vocalized sounds)

Scarabia

Kalim Al Asim -> White falcon (precious, royal bird in a "maybe similar related country in our world")

Jamil Viper -> Red Parrot (or macaw) (obviously because of Iago)

Pomefiore

Epel Felmier -> Snow bunting (a "petite robuste" bird living in snow)

Vil Schoenheit -> Peacock (beautiful, handsome literally The Evil Queen's bird)

Rook Hunt -> Mallard (another irony for an hunter...but this bird is beautiful I mean it, and is found everywheerrre (like a stalker bird ha ha))

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud -> Blue jay (blue, black and blue stripes, funny enough the bird is stated to be noisy ha ha, Idia can be supah noisy sometimes too when setting his boundaries, GG Idia!)

Ortho Shroud -> Eurasian blue tit (a little fluffy bird, blue and yellow doing a very cute melodious sound, I love watching them...)

Diasomnia

Sebek Zigvolt -> Egyptian plover (yes....the bird on the crocodile's back...yes)

Malleus Draconia -> Great eared nightjar (it's a dragon bird....look at him)/I could have chosen Casoar too... but nope...

Lilia Vanrouge -> Anna's hummingbird (it's small, pink and changes color with light...like his hairs)

Silver -> Nine-primaried oscines (a cute lovely bird in our woods, pink and blue)

Thanks National Geographic....

It's just pure fanon brainstorming... I'm sorry...

bird photos were mostly took from "Wikipedia"

#twisted wonderland #dire crowley #twst crowley #k is thinking #...the crow... #see you in march

[mtg-cards-hourly]

Wing Snare

"Argoth's doom rained from a clear sky. Yavimaya will not share that fate." —Multani, maro-sorcerer

Artist: Henry Van Der Linde TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

#mtg #magic the gathering #tcg #$0.20 #henry van der linde #wing snare #urza's legacy #sorcery

[themanfromeire]

Could I request Sirius helping his girlfriend who ends up blind after a mishap with a potion? It's temporary but the poor girl still has to get around somehow!

Of course you can, mo grhá! Thanks for requesting. I hope it’s okay :) Also, thank you for the request!!

Sirius Black x Reader - Blinded By Love

A potion mishap involving a carrot, a done with everything Remus, a trying reader, and chaotic Sirius Black and James Potter.

Cross posted to AO3

```

Potions lessons where you were partnered with your boyfriend were anything but boring. 

Not only did you have to concentrate on reading the instructions written in front of you, stirring the potion at a certain time, a certain frequency and a certain direction, but you also had to fend off Sirius AND James simultaneously. 

God, you were a strong person. 

You had proposed to Remus that he become partners with you, so that your work would actually be completed to an acceptable standard, but the lycanthrope had declined, citing Sirius’ complete and utter adoration of you as a reason not to. 

He claimed that he would be unable to concentrate with the lustful looks you two would send each other from across the room. Remus also stated that unless you were partnered together, Sirius would whine to him about being separated from you all day. 

The Welshman didn’t think he was emotionally strong enough to listen to Sirius complain about not being near you. ‘The year of him simping over you was bad enough!’ he had explained with a chuckle. The guy was not mean, just done with everything. 

You had proposed that you keep the two on leashes, with dream catchers tied above them to keep them occupied whilst you and Remus completed the potions assignment. The idea had drawn a hearty laugh from Remus, along with a playful ruffle of your hair, but not an agreement. 

So here you were, trying to brew a potion with your chaos that you called your boyfriend, along with his platonic love of his life, James. Remus loomed between the two desks, making the odd sarcastic comment to you.

It was complete pandemonium, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sirius turned the page of your textbook to distract you, whilst James added something to your cauldron. It was not an unusual occurrence, in fact, it was so common that James, Sirius and Remus frequently made bets about who out of the first two could add the largest object to your potion without you noticing.

What was unusual was what happened next. 

As your lover distracted you so James could drop an entire carrot that he had stolen from the Great Hall at lunchtime that day, you realised what was happening, and whipped your head towards the cauldron.

Just in time to see it explode. 

Bright orange liquid flew in all directions with a bang that you felt reverberate in every single cell of your body. The kind that shook your core, like a marching band trudging by, filling your being with the pounding of the bass drum and snare to the rhythm of their steps. 

And then, silence. Followed by hysterical laughter. 

The voice of Slughorn cut through, trying to calm the laughter of the Marauders, but nothing could bring that train back to the station, especially not as James Potter stood in the centre of the room, completely covered in orange goop. 

“The four of you, detention. I will be deducting 30 points from Gryffindor for your antics, Mr Black, and Mr Potter. Go to Madame Pomfrey at once. The very second she dismisses you, I want all of you back here to clean up this mess. Do I make myself clear?” 

 A chorus of insincere “Yes sir”s that were interrupted with giggles replied, and as the other two exited the dungeons, Sirius’ arm found its usual home around your waist, and the boy began to guide you out of the room, something which you were eternally grateful for. 

You allowed your boyfriend to guide you towards the hospital wing as you raised a hand to your eyes and began to rub the orange, carrot-scented potion from your them to view the spectacle that had Remus howling with laughter, and your boyfriend’s echoing along the corridor, but as you rubbed at your eyes, the darkness remained. 

You dug the heels of your hand into your eyes, frantically rubbing, attempting to banish the umbra from your vision, but no change occurred. Maybe if you tried harder, it would disappear?

As you went to attempt to scrub it away once more, a cold and gentle hand wrapped around your wrist. Sirius. “Hey now, baby. Prongsie didn’t mean to explode our potion, there’s no need to cry.” Sirius’ voice adopted a soft, yet lighthearted tone as he spoke. 

It only got more joking as he continued. “But I’d say karma has paid a nice visit to him. Oi, Prongs, I thought you were a proud Gryffindor, mate! What house are you now? Clementine?” He barked a laugh at his own joke, though you could hear his laugh die down as he noticed your silence. 

Instead of giggling along at his quips, you were still aggressively massaging your poor eyes. Sirius pulled your hands down from your face. “Oh mon amour…” He began softly, using the caring tone he reserved only for the Marauders and you, “You’re absolutely clarried in it.”

He moved his hand from your wrist, and to your cheek. He stroked it softly. “Look at me.” He asked softly, but you couldn’t even pinpoint the direction that his voice was coming from. “Baby?” Sirius asked, and you could hear the concern in his voice rising. 

“Siri… I can’t see.” You uttered ashamedly. The words froze Sirius in his tracks, and he squeezed your waist tighter, pulling you closer to his body. “We’ll… We’ll get you to Madame Pomfrey, okay? Just hold on, darling,” He assured you, but there was clear anxiety in his voice as he fumbled over his words. 

Your boyfriend began to power walk towards the Hospital Wing, his arm still around you protectively. As he pushed past James and Remus, he didn’t even entertain the other two Marauders’ questions, his priority was you. 

Once you arrived at the Hospital Wing, Madame Pomfrey took one look at the two of you and pointed to an empty bed where Sirius led you. The Mediwitch didn’t even ask what had happened as she began to treat you. 

Years of dealing with the Marauders had numbed her to their actions and their resulting stupidity caused injuries. There was never a dull day dating Sirius Black, that’s for sure.

#marauders #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #marauders reader #james potter #remus lupin #marauders era #the marauders #sirius black imagine #sirius black fluff #harry potter #anon

[mosquito-queen]

Of course Kate throws her arms around Yelena, hugs her to the bone. It makes her feel small: like she can taste the first burst of summer strawberry; like she’s waking up on Christmas morning in Ohio; like she’s wading barefoot in a clear stream on a sunny day. It makes her feel like a child.

It puts a fissure in her carefully constructed floodgates.

Yelena doesn’t know how to say that Kate needs the wingspan of a seabird to hold her safely at the distance she desires. She doesn’t know how to say that a frigatebird has the highest ratio of wing to body, but that wouldn’t even be enough. She doesn’t know how to say a hawk definitely does not. That Kate’s arms could never bear the gap Yelena so desperately needs.

How can she say she has kept her entire life at the disposal of someone else, that she does not know to keep herself and Kate? How can she translate the tangle of grief and anger that snares around her throat? How can she say she would rather chew through her own bone than be trapped again?

Except, Kate’s arms don’t always feel like a cage. Sometimes, and Yelena hates this, sometimes they feel like a bed. And what is that feeling but a lure? Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. How long until the reality check that none of this is real? Isn’t joy just a ruse?

Kate will never hold Yelena at the distance she desires. She is a thorn that digs into flesh, she is a burr that carries the seeds of a new life. A promise of something Yelena has to be brave enough to tend to. She can’t. Not yet.

It’s a good thing Kate is heavy handed. She isn’t patient, but she is stubborn. And maybe one day Yelena can say all the things that evade her. Until then, Kate Bishop squeezes the life out of her and gives that stupid toothy grin because this time, Yelena didn’t immediately duck out of the embrace. That’s something, right?

#bishova #kate x yelena #kate bishop #yelena belova

[thewordfortheday]

I will say to the LORD, “You are my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Surely He will deliver you from the snare of the fowler, and from the deadly plague. He will cover you with His feathers; under His wings you will find refuge; His faithfulness is a shield and rampart. Psalm 91:2-4

Assuredly no subtle plot shall succeed against the one who has the eyes of God watching for his defense, we are foolish and weak as poor little birds, and are very apt to be lured to our destruction by cunning foes, but if we dwell near to God, He will see to it that the most skillful deceiver shall not entrap us and no plague will come nigh our dwelling.

#bible verse #daily devotional #christian quotes #bible quotes #inspiration #daily devotion #christian quote #christian life #scripture #bible

[lorei-writes]

Blessed

William x f!Reader Smut ~1k

Who let the robin out of the cage?

Contents: control, masturbation, corruption, vaginal sex, mirror sex

“William.” Fiery scarlet eyes pierce through you, each a window into the hell of his soul. The devil itself could embrace you. A faithful sinner, you partake in the communion of his hands, the back of his fingers stroking your cheek with sweetly slow diligence. William seizes you by the chin. His thumb brushes against your lower lip, leaves your lipstick just short of being smudged. “Force me out of my hesitation. Just this once. Please.” “Be utterly shameless,” he commands, consumed by the blaze gazing back at him. “Take the lead, my darling robin.”

“You are yet to shed your shame completely? Ha…”

“Will —”

Raining affection washes his name away, a gentle spring mizzle turned summer storm. His lips pressed to yours, William coaxes you to part your mouth, greedy and growing only greedier. The scent of roses envelops you, those long fingers tapping away a crescendoing melody at your spine. You clutch at the lapels of his coat, pull him down by his cravat…

“William.”

Fiery scarlet eyes pierce through you, each a window into the hell of his soul. The devil itself could embrace you. A faithful sinner, you partake in the communion of his hands, the back of his fingers stroking your cheek with sweetly slow diligence. William seizes you by the chin. His thumb brushes against your lower lip, leaves your lipstick just short of being smudged.

“Force me out of my hesitation. Just this once. Please.”

“Be utterly shameless,” he commands, consumed by the blaze gazing back at him. “Take the lead, my darling robin.”

The mattress dips as you push William back. He needn’t order the obvious. But he has, so obey you must, fierce heat raising to your face as your legs straddle his lap, hands cradling his face… for your fingers to slip through his silver moonlight hair and force him to look up. To see you. To admire his tyrannical depravity and your lust, his searing gaze contradicting his blissfully saccharine smile. Selfish, William plays you like an instrument, each touch delivered to your thighs reverberating through your body in harmonic cacophony as your skirt rides up, and up, and up —

Is this a good thing?

Is this a bad thing?

You do not know, but you devour him all the same, your tongue slipping past his lips and sliding against his. Crimson fingernails press into your flesh, thoroughly unimpressed with the dress you still wear. You push his cloak off his shoulders, pull his coat down his arms… Sample him, over and over again, until a field of poppies blooms over his ivory skin, discarded petals marking a path down his neck, his pulse quickening whenever you draw near. You drink him in like sacramental wine. Buttons give in to you, newer and vaster plains being unveiled, there to be shrouded in the intoxicating mist of your breath. Oh, you love it, and you love it when his body quakes as you slide down his toned torso, past his stomach, further down his navel, when you dust affection to the skin at the border of his pants. And you love it when you withdraw.

You are gone, a queen standing tall, proudly staring down her defeated king. Palpable excitement sizzles between the marks you have scattered over him, burning only hotter as you beckon William closer, tempt him, lure him into your snares. Is it the curse…

“Sit.”

… or is it you yourself?

Compelled by your trills, William obeys your orders. Molten desire churning in the pit of your stomach, you shrug the straps of your dress off your shoulders – and yes, red suits you so well, but it is even more beautiful when it adorns the floor of his bedroom. William stares at you in complete adoration, appreciative of your every dimple and mole, every curve, every sweet nook for his kisses to pool inside of. You are free, free to do with him however you may please. You have spread your wings, soared so high, so far away from him… taken a dive, pecked his lips, those devilishly soft and enchanting, poisonous, lips.

Fingers entwined, you lead William away from the bed and towards the armchair. You push him into it, follow in his steps, his engorged need pressing against your back as you make yourself comfortable in his lap. A soft grunt is released; your eyes set on the mirror just a few paces ahead of you, you spread your legs apart. Slowly. Intentionally. Your body needs to be sure he is watching you, that he cannot possibly avert his eyes. Otherwise it would all be for naught.

“William…”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I…” you hesitate. “Give me the command.”

Your eyes lock in the reflection for one painfully long second. Your heart drums, conducted by his smile. “Is that your desire? To be bound?” His whisper wafts by your ear, and like Eve lured by the snake, you give in:

“Yes. It is.”

Scarlet eyes seize you, entrust you with the sin of knowing. “Pleasure yourself for me.”

You cannot resist it.

You do not want to resist it.

You question whether William has even charmed you at all as you watch yourself through half-lidded eyes, your very own hands cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples to then descend to the junction of your legs. You let a finger slip inside to draw out your nectar, add another one… Pump them, in and out, in and out…

“That’s right… That’s a good girl.”

William joins you. You need no further encouragement. Not then. Not when his hands replace yours, when he strokes you so expertly and your tender moans struggle to drown out the irrefutable squelching. Not when you unbuckle his belt, not when you grasp his shaft, stroke it, and not when you let it slide over your slit, wet it with your own desire… sink onto it, all the while watching as it is accepted into your body, filling you so delightfully. The silver mirror does not lie. You move your hips, so mesmerised by your reflections, by the shine of the rings that adorn his fingers as they grasp at your flesh. William caresses your breasts, his touch flowing down your sides. You are blessed. You truly are blessed, you realise, as he begins thrusting into you. Your voice loud and clear, you swear you will give all of yourself to him.

You’ve seen a typo? Please let me know!

Tag List is disabled for suggestive content and smut.

I personally don’t feel comfortable tagging people under the occasional suggestive / smut stories I write. I hope you understand.

@starlitmanor-network

#william rex #ikevil william #ikemen villains william #ikevil #ikemen villains #ikemen series #starlitmanornetwork

[lennox0arts]

Icarus laughed as he fell

Credits to fiona for the original poem!

Here is what they don’t tell you:

Icarus knew he was in too deep. They’d said it out loud, leaning against the cave entrance. 

“I’m in too deep now.”

The words left their lips in a shaky whisper that they knew no one would ever hear. They felt so helplessly, utterly alone as they sobbed against the cold rock. The word their friend had once called them circled through their mind.

Failure.

They knew he was right. They’d failed at being a good brother, a good friend, and they’d even failed at being themself.

They knew their back pressed against the same stone wall that had been splattered with the blood of their best friend by the blade of their father. Within the walls of this cavern, the fighting between Centross and their Dad replayed in their head. The purple scythe of the violet reaper turning their father mortal, and sealing their best friend's death wish. The golden sword through his chest. His smile as he faded into the stars, leaving nothing behind but the scythe, the now mortal god, and the son the god had almost killed. 

Icarus laughed as he fell.

They felt their body wrack with cries mixed with confused, hysteric laughter. They felt disconnected from the winged person who stood from the altar staggering towards the fallen god. 

They heard themself screaming, 

“You killed him! You killed David!” Their father simply nodded. Almost as if to suggest it had to be done. As if their best friend had to be killed. Their mind flashed to the memories they’d tried so hard to bury.

Threw his head back and

yelled into the winds,

They were in the obsidian bunker, reaching through the gap of the trap that had opened barely enough for them to see.

“David?!” They smiled madly, their matted hair crusted with crimson. A drop of blood traced it’s way down their cheek bone. 

   “David let me out!” They demanded, their voice was rough and scratchy from hours of yelling. The man looked down at them with cold purple eyes,  smiling at the trapped one like a hunter smiles at an animal caught in their snare.

“Y’know, Sherb,” The cloaked man smirked, “I don’t think I will.”

They felt their heart plop into their stomach as they tasted their lunch on their tongue as it forced its way up their throat.  “David! Let me out!” 

“Sherbert. Here’s what you don’t realize. Once a failure, always a failure.”

“Wha-” Icarus  was cut off by the darkening of the world around them. They felt the pain of landing before they felt the explosion of pain in their head.

arms spread wide,

teeth bared to the world.

And then they were back in the endstone reset, on the destroyed roof of Will’s estate. Their hands shook, rain pelting their face, running down the deep purple inset lines of corruption before dripping off their chin. They flung open their arms and screamed at the heavens,

“Isn’t this enough? I killed her! I did what you wanted!” They were hyperventilating now, their chest pressing uncomfortably against the bow slung around their shoulder. The bow they’d just used to kill their best friend for a goddess that hadn’t spoken to them, or shown that she knew he existed. 

(There is a bitter triumph

in crashing when you should be

soaring.)

They were standing on a trail of “wack.” As they began to take off, the base of their feathers turned into shards of gold that jabbed into their back and shoulder blades, piercing their skin as the feathers and muscles of their wings crystallized into a mess of amethyst and gold. In a moment of silence that most likely only lasted a few seconds, Icarus realized they were on the ground. Mere milliseconds after this thought, the metal that was now their wings shattered into sharp shards, slicing into their skin, logging into their back, digging into the ground.

One word through the pain.

Quixis.

The wax scorched his skin,

ran blazing trails down his back,

his thighs, his ankles, his feet.

They were standing before the lectern at Haley's funeral, watching the explosion of the tree speed towards them. They heard the loud boom and the rattling of their bones. The fire clawed towards them, dragging itself on the ground like a monster lunging towards its prey. The fire nipped at their two-toned jacket, ashes burning their eyes. It caught them up in flames before the world went blank and they heard a page being torn. 

Feathers floated like prayers

past his fingers,

close enough to snatch back.

Snippets of other worlds flew past them, and they caught only a few glimpses. Them trapped in a concrete box trying to save a girl named Charlotte. Them running from a horse sized chicken. Them in front of a screen, talking to words on a box. 

Death breathed burning kisses

against his shoulders,

where the wings joined the harness.

Then they were inside the cave. Watching the fighting once more from their place at the altar. Their chest aching as the skin stretched and rearranged in a glitching mess, each unstable breath more painful than the last. Centross and Fable pushing each other around the cave, each one landing punch after punch. Them, not knowing who to defend.  Seeing their friend fade into the void. Doing nothing to help him.

Yelling.

Sobbing.

Laughter.

Betrayal.

Then, Fable walking towards them, framed by the sunset. 

“I can bring him back.”

The sun painted everything

in shades of gold.

They were back outside the cave. Where they knew they actually were. Curled up into themself. He could get him back. He just needed more power. He was going to kill the primordials and rid the earth of death, or burn the world to shambles if doing so failed. And Icarus, his caged little bird, was going to stand muted at his side in the ashes of a fire they could have put out.

After all,

(There is a certain beauty

in setting the world on fire

and watching from the centre

of the flames.)

#fable smp #fablesmp #fsmp #fsmpblr #icarus morningstar #fable smp sherbert #centross #screaming crying throwing up #fablesmpblr #writing #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #writeblr #fanfiction #fanfic #fable fanart

[hpkinktober]

HP Kinktober will be running for 2023! All HP pairings and ships are welcome. We're not sure if we'll be able to do daily graphics/posts of the prompts this year, so save this list!

AO3 Collection: HPKinktober2023 Tumblr: hpkinktober

Rules:

1. Please tag your fics as accurately as possible. 2. Due to the nature of this fest, this is 18 and up only.

More information and the list of prompts can be found below the break.

It's encouraged that you post on the day of the prompt if possible, but you can really post whenever you want. Prompts can be combined all into one fic, written as one-shots, or mix and match—it’s all up to you!

All HP pairings and ships are welcome.

Hosted by: @manixzen, @anaxandria-writes, and @withgreatelan

This collection is open and unmoderated, so viewer discretion is advised, and please tag your works as accurately as possible.

Daily Prompts

1. Devil's snare 2. Orgasm Denial 3. Werewolves 4. Cockwarming 5. Firewhiskey 6. Collaring 7. Sex Pollen 8. Pensieve 9. Omegaverse 10. Mandrakes 11. Dragons / Dragon Eggs 12. Breathplay 13. Bathing 14. Voyeurism 15. Owl Post 16. Wings 17. Closets 18. School Uniform 19. Dungeons 20. Breeding 21. Brooms 22. Legilimency 23. Monsterfucking 24. Power Imbalance 25. Portkey 26. Bondage 27. Room of Requirement 28. Remembrall 29. Knotting 30. Formalwear 31. Aftercare

Alternatives (Can be swapped out for any day) Alt 1: Object Insertion Alt 2: Age Play Alt 3: Threesome (or more) Alt 4: Wandless Magic

#hp fanfic #hp fanfic fest #kinktober #hpkinktober #hp kinktober 2023 #drarry #wolfstar #dramione #hp rare pair