#✨flap✨

[sockprince]

Hey I just wanted to say i really appreciated you and Caen complimenting my latest drawing :] thank you :]]]

I've been having art block, so it helped to hear you think it looked good / I was improving (?) :]

You are improving !!!!

Art block can be quite frustrating... I do have one as well.. (a craftblock, honesty)

I would love to see more of your arts if you feel like creating.

But have you ever put a recent drawing next a drawing from last year? Or from multiple years?

You are improving ✨✨

And your arts is very recognisable ;) which is good!

[kankuroplease]

Kizashi and Mebuki love~

[that-willowtree]

supernatural au where everything’s the same but instead of the wing flapping noise when the angels arrive and leave, it’s this:

[thatsrightice]

F-14 FUN FACT OF THE DAY #35

Not many pilots manually manipulated the flaps of the F-14 Tomcat as pilots were not taught. But those who did could only manipulate them below 220 knots and below 2Gs otherwise you would risk breaking the torque tubes and locking them out. During a dogfight it is difficult to utilize the flaps due to these restrictions, not that it would prevent you from using them. Flap-Slat Lockouts were a prominent issue throughout the F-14’s life.

[sunsetsandsunshine]

Tinytello gets Tinytickles

Summary: Leo finds out that Donnie has experimented on himself again and turned himself into “Tinytello.” With the help of his brothers, he convinces Donnie to promise to never experiment on himself again.

Lee: Little Donnie (Tinytello)

Lers: Leo, Raph & Mikey

Authors Note: Based off of this adorable art! 💖 https://www.tumblr.com/snailsnaps/701662135198023680/i-couldnt-stop-thinking-about-this-prompt-from

*————————————————————————*

“No! No! No! No!” The little version of Donnie yelled as his younger twin carried him under his arm. Well, I guess he was the younger one now. Physically that is. An experiment gone wrong had changed Donnie back into a small kid. He was still teenage Donnie, but his form was that of when he was around six years old. And now he was forced to go towards Raph’s room as Leo held onto his squirming figure.

“Oho no, Donton. I know for a fact Raph would love to see this.” Leo chuckled in a playful tone. Donnie continued to kick his little legs and try to escape. The sleeves of his hoodie, slightly longer than his arms, flapped along with his hands with each desperate attempt of freedom.

Leo shushed Donnie then knocked on Raph’s door, hiding Donnie behind his back. He walked in after hearing a “come on in.”

“You’ll never guess what I found dear hermano.” Leo smirked, making sure to keep a good grip on the still squirming Donnie against the back of his shell. Before Raph could guess, he heard a small grunt from behind Leo. “Uhh, Leo…” Raph stood up from his bed. “Please don’t tell me you stole a kid-“

“Why would I- Never mind. Look!” He exclaimed bringing Donnie out from behind his shell and holding him up for Raph to see. Raph gasped, only to then aww at his adorable little brother.

“Daww!! Look at little Donnie!” Raph gave Donnie a pat to the head. Donnie swatted at his hand before giving up and accepting the affection. “But wait, how did this happen? Leo, you didn’t do this to him did you?!” Raph pointed a stern finger at him.

“It wasn’t me! Little Donnie here was experimenting on himself again.” Donnie tried to protest, but Raph was way ahead of him. “You what?! Donnie, I thought we talked about this. This is extremely dangerous. You’re lucky you didn’t turn yourself into some other mutant thing. We don’t need to be more mutated than we already are.” Donnie huffed and crossed his arms.

“Oh relax! I didn’t die or anything. Now if you let me go, I can go reverse this and we can pretend this never happened.” Donnie tried to sound serious with his kid voice. It didn’t work. If anything, it made his brothers smile even more.

“Not gonna happen.” Raph started. “You need to learn to be more careful. Even though this experiment seems to be the most adorable mistake you’ve ever made.” Raph’s baby voice came out in the last sentence as his pupils grew three times in size. Leo nodded his head at Raph’s comment.

“I know right!! He’s just a little guy!” Leo nuzzled his cheek against Donnie’s. Donnie pushed at his brothers face, his legs trying as hard as they could to kick at Leo’s arms. “I am not adorable now put me down!!” Donnie yelled. He yelped when Raph took him from Leo. Leo pouted, but remained where he was, letting Raph have some time to reminisce about when they were little. Raph held Donnie in one arm, the other flapping in happiness.

“I REMEMBER WHEN YOU GUYS WERE THIS SMALL!! I wish you guys could’ve stayed like this forever!” Raph couldn’t help the tiny jumps on his heals. He was having cuteness overload and Donnie would be lying if he said he didn’t find Raph’s reaction to him a little adorable. It was still embarrassing nonetheless, but seeing his brother so happy over his mistake was better than anger. A smile crept its way onto his face when Raph lifted him up and spun around a little. Leo wished he could take pictures with his mind, he had unfortunately left his phone in his room.

“Hey, I heard Raph’s cuteness overload voice what am I missing?” Mikey said as he suddenly entered Raph’s room. He immediately eyed the tiny version of their brother in Raph’s arms.

“OH MI GOSH!!!!” Mikey exclaimed, quickly snatching little Donnie from Raph. “Aren’t you just the cutest little thing!” Mikey cooed as he hugged him close. His brother was just too cute! And the oversized hoodie and glasses weren’t helping Donnie’s case.

“I am not cute!! Now put me dohohown! Hehehehe! Mihihikey!” Donnie burst into squeaky giggles when Mikey started to prod at his neck. His shoulders scrunched up with each feather light poke.

“Oh my gosh- I think my heart is going to explode-“ Leo held a hand against his heart as he stared at the adorable sight. At the same time, Raph brought out his phone to take a video. Mikey moved from one side of Donnie’s neck to the other, Donnie’s small fingers only managing to lightly push at Mikey’s hand.

“Nohohoho! Stahahahahap! Hehehahaha!” Donnie squealed when the back of his neck was targeted. Mikey felt his heart absolutely melt. And that’s when Leo thought of a plan. A plan to make sure Donnie wouldn’t make this mistake again.

“Ohokay. Mikey will let you go…” Leo paused for dramatic effect while leaning down towards Donnie. “If you promise to never experiment on yourself again.” Donnie gasped through a giggle.

“Nehever! I aham a mahahan of sciehehehence!” Donnie managed to say as Mikey continued his light flutters to the back of Donnie’s neck. Leo smirked, knowing that was exactly the answer he was going to get.

“Well right now you’re a man, or boy I should say, who’s gonna get tickled until he agrees with us.” Donnie’s eyes widened. They wouldn’t- not while he’s like this- Oh who was he kidding. Of course they would!

“Noho wahahahay!” Donnie could never ignore the sweet call of the mistress that is science. Even if it did mean getting tickled to death while being in this form.

“I was hoping you’d say that hermanito.” Cue Leo’s classic smirk before he joined Mikey in tickling Donnie. Raph stood to the side, recording video after video and trying to keep his cooing quiet. Donnie’s laughter was proving to be loud enough to cover any comments he made anyway.

“Aww~ Does that tickle, Tinytello~” Leo teased, scribbling his fingers around and around Donnie’s little plastron. He made sure to give pokes to his sides every now and then to hear little Donnie’s voice crack with each squeal.

“Nahahahahahaha! *squeal* Stahahahahahap!” Donnie kicked his legs and switched between trying to grab at Mikey’s fingers and pushing at Leo’s hands. Neither was doing much for his benefit. His glasses were a bit askew on his face and the hoodie was doing little to nothing to protecting his sensitive shell.

“Rahahahahaph! Hehehelp mehehe!” Donnie tried reaching out towards his older brother, only for a sneaky finger to wiggle under his arm causing him to shriek and pull back.

Leheohoho! Knohohohck ihit ohohoff!” Donnie yelped as Leo’s finger remained “trapped” under the little turtle’s arm. Raph giggled before deciding it was time to join in on the fun. He set up his phone against some clutter on his shelf, making sure he was able to get everyone in the shot. He walked over to stand beside Mikey and grabbed onto the tops of little Donnie’s knees.

“NOHO! Rahahaph dohohohon’t!” Donnie was still trying to keep his other two brothers at bay. He knew he would give in eventually if Raph contributed to the antics. Mikey and Donnie paused their assault, giving him time to take a break.

“So Tinytello~” Leo bent down to gently talk into Donnie’s ear, knowing it was a sensitive place for Donnie. “Are you gonna stop being a menace to yourself? Or are you gonna die of adorable squeaky giggles. Your choice.” Leo chuckled at the way Donnie shook his head but couldn’t help but giggle at the whispers.

“Leo’s right, Donnie. If you don’t agree, we’ll just have to keep you like this forever and ever. Tickling you aaaallll night long.” Mikey punctuated his sentence with some squeezes to the back of Donnie’s neck. Donnie snorted and curled up best he could, unable to make any sort of comeback.

“And then we’ll have to tell April. And I’m sure she’d loooove to tickle little Donnie until she feels satisfied.” Raph started squeezing Donnie’s knees. A high pitched squeal followed by louder giggles filled the room. Leo lifted Donnie’s arm that was closest to him and slowly wiggled his finger towards the outstretched underarm. He snickered at how Donnie barely even tried to pull at his arm, accepting his fate and giggling his little heart out.

“All together hermanos!” Leo declared, his finger finally touching its target and wiggling away under Donnie’s arm. Donnie kicked and squealed and snorted and swore. His other arm flapping due to happy stimming and not really knowing what else to do. Mikey gave Donnie a big raspberry to the side of his neck and that’s when he finally brought out the white flag to wave in surrender.

“OKAY! OKAHAHAHAY! I GIHIHIHIVE! I WOHON’T- GAHAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAP!” Donnie lost himself in laughter when Raph interrupted him by quickly lifting up his hoodie and blowing a raspberry on his plastron.

“Sorry what was that? Didn’t quite hear ya.” Raph teased, blowing another small raspberry on his side. Leo continued to hold onto Donnie’s arm, the other lightly smacking at Raph’s head with the hoodie sleeve.

“I WOHOHON’T EHEXPERIMENT OHON MYSEHEHELF! NOHOHOW STAHAHAHAHAP! PLEHEHEHEASE!” Raph and Leo finally backed away. Mikey letting Donnie go limp in his arms, cradling his little big brother. Raph went over and grabbed his phone, ending the video and saving it to watch later. He turned back and saw Leo covering his mouth. Looking closer, he saw that Donnie had fallen asleep in Mikey’s arms. I guess staying up for hours experimenting then being tickled by your three brothers really takes it out of you.

“Aww, he’s so peaceful!!” Mikey whisper screamed. He lent down and gave Donnie a kiss to the forehead, tearing up when he saw the smile widen on Donnie’s sleeping face. Leo carefully took off Donnie’s glasses, walking alongside Mikey and Raph as all three of them took him to his room.

“Should we tell dad?” Mikey asked as he gently laid Donnie down in his bed. He grabbed the blanket and carefully draped it across Donnie. Raph shook his head.

“Let’s wait till the morning. Let the little guy sleep for now. Seems like he needs it.” Raph put a stuffed animal next to Donnie’s hands, watching as Donnie unconsciously grabbed it held it close. Leo put his glasses on the nightstand, being sure to check that Donnie was all tucked in all warm and cozy.

“Goodnight, Tinyello.” Leo gently whispered, giving Donnie a small rub to his back. Raph quietly snapped a few more pictures before having to be dragged out of the room by Mikey and Leo. The affects would wear off eventually. But until then, Donnie slept more than he had in a really long while.

[incognit0slut]

Doctor Reid

PART 2 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Established Relationship Your boyfriend finally agrees to indulge in your fantasy by playing a very different kind of doctor, but on his own terms.

Content: (18+) 4k, roleplay, lingerie, finger sucking, nipple play, fingering, female oral, edging, soft!dom as per usual and him being what you guys like to call ‘a little shit’ a/n: season 12 Spencer can stay between my thighs all day every day. also, i have no knowledge on any medical terms this is just ✨vibes✨

10:34 AM

The box was heavier than you’d expected. It had been weeks since you’d ordered it—weeks of wondering if this would even get here without some awkward explanation. You’d agonized over every little detail, scrolling through pages of different costumes, wondering which stethoscope looked the most real.

And now it was finally here.

You didn’t waste a second. Your fingers worked quickly, ripping through the tape and cardboard until the contents spilled out. A crisp, folded white coat with perfectly pressed lapels and a stethoscope. And it was a real one, with cool metal tubing that felt heavy and authentic in your hand. Everything looked even better than you’d imagined.

You barely took the time to fold back the box flaps before hurrying to the next room, where your boyfriend sat comfortably on the couch, idly thumbing through a book.

“Spencer!” Your voice practically sang in excitement. “It’s here!”

He glanced up and lowered his book. "What's here?"

You grinned, bouncing on your toes as you closed the distance between you. "The doctor is officially in," you declared, holding up the white coat like a trophy, the stethoscope dangling from your other hand.

You watched as realization dawned across his face as he blinked a few times, processing the items in your hands, before letting out a soft, amused huff.

"Wow," he said slowly. "You really went all out."

"Of course I did,” you affirmed, grinning from ear to ear as you held the coat up to his chest, sizing him up as though he were already playing the part. “And it’s perfect.”

He leaned back into the couch, trying to put some distance between him and your infectious enthusiasm. “You know I’m not much of an actor.”

“Baby,” you drawled out, emphasizing the pet name with that affectionate tone you knew worked like a charm on him. It was the same sweet voice you used when you wanted something, the kind that could coax just about anything from him. “You’re not trying to win the Oscars, it’s sex. I promise you’ll like it.”

He shook his head like he was the most put-upon boyfriend in the world, letting out a mock sigh of exasperation, though the faint smile playing at the corners of his lips betrayed him. He closed his book and set it aside.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” he said at last, dragging the word out as though it physically pained him to say it. “If we do this on my own terms.”

“Your own terms? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see. And,” he reached out, pinching the collar of the coat between his fingers. “I’m not wearing that.”

You pouted. “What, you don’t want to look like a real doctor?”

“I think I can pull it off without the costume.” He flashed you a smile. “I’m technically still a doctor.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Your multiple doctorates don’t exactly qualify you for this, Doctor Reid.”

“I thought having six degrees would be enough for anything.”

“Too bad none of them is needed now,” you shot back, poking a finger at his chest playfully. “The role I’m thinking of requires a different kind of expertise. More…” You paused, pretending to mull it over, “Hands-on. Less theoretical.”

The laugh he let out was short and incredulous, his eyebrows raising as if he couldn’t believe your persistence. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

You sighed dramatically. “Babyyyy.”

“You know, one of these days that tone isn’t going to work on me.”

“Oh, please, you love it,” you taunted, leaning in closer. “And don’t act like you’re not curious about this.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head, weighing the pros and cons, debating just how far he’d let you push him. And then there it was, that spark in his eyes. Faint but undeniable—the one that told you he was already half convinced, even if he pretended otherwise.

“Alright, fine,” he finally conceded. “I’ll play along.”

The grin you wore was at least a mile wide as you shoved the stethoscope into his hand.

1:52 PM

“Okay. I’m ready.”

Spencer looked up from his stack of papers, and as soon as he saw you standing there, dressed in nothing but lacy lingerie that clung to every curve, his mouth fell open. He blinked, trying to process the sight. Because yes, while you looked incredibly sexy, he was still baffled.

“Since when does a patient wear... that?"

You stepped closer, letting his eyes follow your every move as you shrugged with a hint of feigned innocence in your smile. "Well, I thought I'd save you some time, you know? Make it easier for your examination."

"Mm-hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, tapping a finger against his desk. "I'm not so sure this is standard procedure. I think you might be bending the rules here."

"Maybe. But I'm sure Doctor Reid can make a special exception, right?“

You shifted slightly, arching your back just enough to draw his attention. His eyes dropped to your chest, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat as he noticed the way your nipples strained against the sheer, barely-there fabric of your lingerie. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile, but it broke through anyway. A slow, knowing grin spread across his face.

“Of course,” he finally replied. “I think I can be persuaded.”

With that, he leaned forward, sweeping his documents to the side in one smooth motion, before patting the now-cleared space on the desk in front of him.

“Take a seat, Miss,” he said, his voice turning low and authoritative that lit a spark of excitement inside you. “Let’s get started.”

You bit your bottom lip, fighting back a grin as the cool wood of the desk pressed against the backs of your thighs. You watched Spencer stand up and slip between your legs, his hands finding your knees and spreading them just enough to close the distance until the heat of his body was flushed against yours.

“So, tell me,” he started, his voice lowering as he fell into the role. “What seems to be the problem today?”

A flutter of nerves danced in your stomach, and suddenly you were very aware of what was happening. You’d initiated this—had begged for it, even—but it was something entirely different now that Spencer was towering over you. The confidence you’d felt earlier wavered for just a moment as his palms ran slowly up your thighs.

“I, uh,” your voice faltering slightly as his hands continued their slow journey. “I… I haven’t been feeling well.”

His fingers brushed lightly against the frills of your lingerie, teasing the lace between his fingers as he maintained eye contact. “Any symptoms I should know about? Dizziness? Shortness of breath?”

You nodded, heart pounding in your chest as his thumb traced small circles over the fabric. “All of the above.”

“I see.” His eyes flickered down to your lips. “Can you open your mouth for me?”

Slowly, you parted your lips, and the moment you did, Spencer’s hand came up to your chin. He tilted your head back gently, exposing the graceful line of your throat.

“I’m going to run a few tests now.” He paused, his thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip. “It might feel intense, but I need you to stay relaxed and follow my instructions. Can you do that, Miss?”

You nodded as best as you could, mouth still open, and he gave you a small, approving smile.

“Stick your tongue out for me, just a little bit.”

You followed his instructions, extending your tongue just far enough to meet his touch. His eyes gleamed with focus as he brought his thumb to your mouth, pressing it lightly against your tongue.

“Hm,” he hummed, his eyes still fixed on your mouth like he was about to make a serious diagnosis. “I think I might be starting to see the problem here. But I need to check one more thing. Can you close your mouth around my finger?”

You complied, your lips wrapping around his thumb, feeling the rough pad of it pressing down on your tongue.

“Good,” he sighed, the approval in his voice like a reward in itself. “Now try giving it a gentle suck.”

You could feel the tension rising in you. Your cheeks hollowed as you did what he asked, and you couldn’t help but think back to the hesitation in his voice earlier, the way he’d claimed he wasn’t sure about this, that he wasn’t good at playing roles. You would’ve laughed if your mouth wasn’t occupied.

But you were an obedient patient, after all. You started sucking lightly, feeling the weight of his thumb resting against your tongue. There was something undeniably arousing about how he watched you, eyes heavy with focus, and that steady weight of his finger as he pretended to assess your reaction.

The first rush of arousal made itself known between your legs. You gradually increased the pressure, and before you knew it, you were bobbing your head. But just as you fell into a steady rhythm, his hand tightened on your chin to stop you.

“Just as I suspected,” he murmured after a moment, pulling his thumb away slightly to speak. “You’re suffering from an acute sensitivity.”

You swallowed, eyes wide as you played along, trying to keep your composure despite the heat pooling low in your stomach. “Is… is that serious?”

“I’ll need to do a further examination to understand the extent of your condition,” he mused, his eyes flickering between your face and your body as if assessing you before he straightened up slightly. “Let’s check your vitals now.”

He reached behind you, fingers brushing your lower back as he grabbed the stethoscope that had been sitting on the desk all day, the one you’d practically begged him to use. His expression turned serious, as though he were truly diagnosing you, and he leaned in close, pressing the flat side of the stethoscope against the pulse point on your neck.

“Deep breaths,” he instructed softly. You inhaled sharply, feeling the tension coil tighter in your chest as the cool metal made contact with your skin. “Your heart rate is definitely elevated.”

He moved the stethoscope lower, brushing it along your collarbone, before pressing it just above your heart. You felt the thump, thump, thump of your pulse echo through the metal.

“Definitely fast,” he noted. “We might need to find out what’s causing such a reaction.”

And before you could respond, without warning, he moved the stethoscope lower, pressing the cold metal against your nipple. You let out a soft, involuntary moan as the sensation caught you off guard.

“Ah,” he muttered, tilting his head as if he were genuinely analyzing your response, his thumb grazing the lace-covered peak around the stethoscope. “I think we’ve found one of the pressure points.”

You watched as his fingers trailed up to the edge of your lingerie, dragging his knuckles along the lace before he tugged the fabric down, letting your breast spill free. Without a word, he pressed the stethoscope directly against your bare nipple. The sudden contact made you jolt, your back arching as a quiet whimper slipped from your lips, and your nipple hardened instantly under the cold metal.

“Heightened sensitivity to stimuli.” He moved the stethoscope in small circles. “Very, very responsive.”

His eyes flickered down as he used his free hand to tug down the other side of your lingerie, exposing your other breast. You tried to keep your cool, tried to pretend like his touch wasn’t turning you inside out, but it was getting harder by the second. And God, he knew it. The way he played with your other nipple, rolling it slowly between his thumb and forefinger like he had all the time in the world, was enough to make your thoughts scatter.

You tried so hard to keep your composure, but then he gently pinched and tugged on your sensitive nub, and a soft, breathy whine escaped your lips before you could stop it. With a satisfied grin, he pulled away.

You blinked, momentarily dazed. “What—?” you breathed out. “Why did you stop?”

“Medical procedure,” he said simply, his tone so casual it almost made you forget the heat of his touch moments earlier. “It’s important to give the patient time to stabilize.”

You shot him a bewildered, almost exasperated look that said are you serious right now? But he just smiled that slow, self-assured smile of his. He was clearly enjoying this far too much.

“We’re doing this my way, remember?”

You huffed in mock annoyance. “Really? That’s how we’re playing this?”

He brushed his lips on your shoulder. “That’s how we’re playing."

5:22 PM

“Doctor Reid?”

Spencer glanced up from where he was pouring himself a cup of coffee. He raised an eyebrow, casually stirring a hefty amount of sugar, the spoon clinking softly against the mug. “Hmm?”

The coolness of the counter pressed against your back as you watched him. “I think it’s getting worse.”

He didn’t say anything right away, just let his gaze rake over you, taking note of the way the thin fabric of your lingerie clung to your skin.

“Worse, how?” he finally asked, setting his mug down.

“It’s… spreading.”

“Spreading?” He mused. “Where, exactly?”

“Everywhere.” Your fingers nervously toyed with the hem of your lingerie, lifting it just enough to show a glimpse of bare skin beneath. “I really need your help, Doctor.”

His eyes immediately zeroed in on the sliver of skin you revealed. You watched as the realization flashed across his face. The corner of his mouth twitched as though he was fighting back a satisfied smirk, and you knew then that he’d taken the bait—he had to confirm just how bare you really were.

“Come here,” he ordered softly. He stepped back from the counter just enough to make space. “If it’s spreading, I have to conduct a full-body assessment.”

You slowly made your way to him with shaky legs.

“Up,” he instructed, giving the counter a gentle pat before letting his hands settle on your hips. “Sit.”

The cool marble touched the backs of your thighs as you hoisted yourself up. Then, without warning, Spencer’s hands were on your legs. He grabbed your calves, and before you could even catch your breath, he maneuvered your knees apart, placing the palms of your feet flat onto the countertop.

His eyes dropped between your legs, and the sight of you completely bare, your pussy lips glistening under the dim light, confirmed what he’d suspected. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as he took in every detail, the way you were flushed, open, and dripping.

“Is there a reason,” he began slowly, his voice dropping to that dangerously soft, detached tone. “Why you’re not wearing anything underneath?”

“I… I thought it might make the examination easier.”

He smiled. “How considerate.”

Then with painstaking slowness, Spencer used both thumbs to part your folds, spreading you open completely to his gaze. It was almost clinical, the way he did it, as if he were studying you like some fascinating experiment. And it was working. You could feel the heat of embarrassment rushing in your veins. God, he had you spread open like this in your kitchen counter, and all you could think was how absolutely shameless this was.

He took his time, of course. Because why wouldn’t he? Spencer Reid didn’t rush experiments. No, he would spend all the time in the world analyzing, learning, committing every detail to memory. And right now, that focus was on you. He dragged his fingertips through your arousal, spreading it leisurely over your folds like he was testing its consistency, as if that slick heat was something he could measure and quantify.

And all you could do was hold your breath.

“I have to say,” he started again, his voice low and taunting as his fingers slid back and forth slowly, grazing just over your entrance without actually dipping inside. “You’re overly lubricated. Are you always like this?”

You exhaled a long breath, trying to steady the rapid rhythm of your heart. “Y-Yes.”

Spencer's smile deepened, his gaze never leaving your face as he pressed just a bit harder, testing your reaction. “Interesting. Do you get this wet from just a little touch, or does it have to be… more?”

“J-Just a little,” you admitted, hips instinctively shifting toward his fingers.

“Mmm,” he hummed approvingly, and finally—finally—he let his finger slide just inside your entrance, only to stop right there, buried to the first knuckle. He didn’t move any further. “Is that all it takes? Or do you need more to truly feel the effects?”

“I...” You let out a whimper when his finger twitched inside you. "M-More."

“And how much more, exactly? One finger? Two?”

“Two,” you gasped, every coherent thought slipping away under his touch. “Two… Doctor.”

A satisfied smile tugged at his lips, and without another word, he obliged, slipping a second finger inside you. The stretch made you bite back a moan as you felt every inch of him dragging against your inner walls. You couldn’t help the way your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, pulling him deeper as your slick arousal coated every thrust.

“You’re even more responsive than I thought,” he noted, adjusting his angle to brush against that sensitive spot inside you. “Your partner must enjoy this… a lot.”

He was playing his role all too well. Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter as his speed picked up. "He... He does," you breathed out. "He—he loves it."

Spencer hummed thoughtfully. "Good," he said softly, almost as if to himself. "Because this is a very special condition that requires a great deal of attention. And I'm sure that you need all the attention you can get, don't you?"

“Yes,” you sighed, nodding frantically as the pleasure built in steady waves. “I… I need it.”

"I thought so. Patients with your symptoms typically respond very well to intensive treatment."

With that, his fingers began to thrust deeper, faster, harder. The sensation of his long fingers stretching you had you moaning as you felt every drag, every inch while he continued to work you open. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more intense, he pressed a thumb firmly against your clit.

“Oh, fuck.”

He circled your swollen nub in slow, delicious patterns, and your body clenched around his fingers. This was it. You could feel it. The way your pulse pounded in your ears, the heat pooling deep in your core, every sensation building higher and higher. You could feel that sweet, sweet edge approaching, so close you could practically taste it—

And then he stopped.

Everything. Stopped.

“Spencer!”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t rush to soothe the ache in your body. He simply slid his fingers out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing.

“Open your mouth.”

You parted your lips, and he slipped his fingers inside, letting you taste yourself. The mix of your own slick and the heat of his skin made you moan softly, your tongue swirling around his fingers

“You see, you can be very responsive,” he commented in a low, measured tone. “But I think we should take a break, rushing the treatment would only compromise the results.”

He said it like it was the most reasonable thing in the world, like he wasn’t purposefully doing this to drive you insane. You wanted to laugh, and you did. But it was a defeated, breathless sort of laugh around his fingers, because you knew the man settled between your thighs still held all the power over you.

08:56 PM

“Babe?”

He laughed softly, not even glancing up from the book he was reading. “No more Doctor?”

You ignored the amusement in his voice as you walked up to the bed where he lay sprawled out, so casually composed, flipping another page like he hadn’t spent the entire day driving you mad. You reached the edge of the mattress, shadow casting over him, and his eyes finally flicked up to meet yours.

“I wanna cum.”

Spencer’s smile widened, the kind that made your stomach flip with both excitement and irritation, and he placed the book down beside him. His hand reached out lazily to brush your thigh.

“Yeah?” he drawled, tilting his head to the side. “Does my sweet girl want to be taken care of?”

You nodded eagerly. “Please.”

“Well, I do like it when you ask nicely,” he muttered, one hand sliding up to grip your waist. “And you’ve been very patient all day.”

“I have.”

“I think you deserve it.”

“I do.”

He let out an amused laugh. “Alright, lay down on the bed.”

You didn’t hesitate. You quickly shifted, lying back against the pillows. Spencer’s hands were on you immediately, gripping your thighs and dragging you toward the edge of the mattress. The room spun for a moment when he settled onto his knees. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, his fingers squeezing your calf as he pressed a soft, teasing kiss against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“Comfortable?”

You nodded, and just as the breath left your lungs, his fingers brushed against the slick, wet folds of your pussy. He traced the outline of your lips gently, gathering the moisture that had been building all day.

“Poor baby,” he cooed sympathetically, his breath ghosting over your wetness. And just when you thought you couldn’t take another moment of teasing, he pressed his tongue flat against you and licked a long strip from your entrance to your clit.

A desperate whine escaped your lips. “Please…”

Spencer didn’t miss a beat. He licked another long, languid strip to your clit, swirling his tongue around it before flattening it again, dragging slowly just to savor the way you trembled beneath him. One of his hands gripped your thigh firmly, keeping your leg steady over his shoulder, while the other slid underneath, lifting your hips closer to his mouth.

And when he finally wrapped his lips around your clit again, pulling it into his mouth with a gentle suck, a choked moan tore from your throat.

“Spencer,” you whimpered. “Oh god…”

The vibration of his low groan reverberated through you. His fingers gripped your thighs tightly, holding you open and pinned beneath him. You weren’t sure what was more overwhelming. The sensation of his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit or the wet, obscene sounds of him slurping against your soaked folds. Either way, it was driving you wild, pushing you closer and closer to that edge where everything blurred and all you could do was feel.

And then his tongue shifted, dipping lower to probe your entrance. He pushed inside, exploring, seeking, like he was determined to reach every possible inch of you. And damn it, it felt like he could. Each thrust and twist of his tongue sent a surge of delicious heat through your body, and you couldn’t help the way your thighs trembled against his shoulders, squeezing him tighter.

You could barely breathe as the tension coiled tighter, so fucking tight you thought you might snap. And he knew it—he could feel it, the way your walls clenched around his tongue, the way your thighs trembled against his shoulders. And still, he didn’t let up, thrusting his tongue into you deeper, faster, while his nose rubbed insistently against your clit.

He kept going, over and over, tasting you like you were the only thing that could satisfy his hunger. It was too much and yet not enough, and soon you couldn’t stop the desperate chant of his name spilling from your lips. You weren’t even sure what you were pleading for anymore—more? mercy?—all you knew was that you on the brink of falling apart.

One last stroke was enough to shatter you completely.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly you came, but with the way he was working you over, you didn’t stand a chance. The moment you felt yourself tip over, everything broke—your body tensed, your back arched sharply off the bed, and a loud moan tore from your lips. It was like your body had a mind of its own, hips grinding desperately against his mouth as if seeking every last bit of friction you could steal.

And when you finally came down, you were a breathless, panting mess. Spencer gave your clit one final, teasing suck, before he pulled back. He crawled up your body, hands sliding up your sides to push your lingerie higher. Gentle, warm kisses tickled your stomach as he threw you a smug look that only he could pull off.

“How was that,” he murmured, pausing to kiss just beneath your ribs. “For your little fantasy?”

Mind-blowing. Intense. Better than I imagined.

“Well,” you managed to say, fingers tangling into his hair. “If that’s how you plan on treating me, Doctor, I might just have to get sick more often.”

Spencer’s lips curved into a knowing smirk against your skin, and he nipped gently at your side.

“I think it’s best for you to do a regular check-up, then,” he teased, letting his lips ghost over your skin as he crawled further up, settling his body over yours. “Doctor’s orders.”

You couldn’t stop the soft, breathless laugh that escaped your lips as you pulled him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his mouth.

You’d be more than happy to comply.

[mikkies]

「 I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOU SO MUCH THAT I COULD CRY. 」

Taph x GN! Reader

Warnings: none!

Note: I was just watching tiktok then saw this one video of Taph giving people he cares about his feather or something like that. I got so many ideas so I wanted to write it down.

THE SOFT GLOW of a lantern filled the room, its golden light flickering gently over the worn wood and stone walls. The bed creaked slightly as Taph shifted, his robed figure perched cross-legged near the edge. His smaller ear-wings fluttered now and then, catching faint drafts in the still air. His larger wings, usually hidden beneath his robes, peeked out slightly tonight, the golden-tipped feathers ruffled from a long day.

You sat behind him, hands delicately working through his feathers. Preening his wings had become a quiet ritual between you two—a moment of peace after whatever chaos the round had brought. Taph wasn’t great at keeping his feathers tidy; his pigeon-like tendency to hop into places he didn’t belong and his subspace trip mines often left them dusty, painted pink, bent, or even slightly frayed.

“You’re impossible sometimes, you know that?” you teased as you gently straightened a stubborn feather.

Taph turned his hooded head just enough to look at you—or at least you thought he was looking. His hood’s shadow concealed his face, but the tilt of his head was unmistakably playful. His smaller wings flitted briefly, like a bird puffing up in mock indignation.

"🫵🙄❓" (Me? Impossible?)

“Yes, you,” you said with a chuckle, smoothing the feather back into place. “You run around like you own the place, dive into things you shouldn’t, and somehow still expect me to clean this mess up afterward.”

Taph let out a low hum that sounded suspiciously like a coo, leaning forward just enough to make his point. "😇🕊️" (I’m innocent!)

You laughed, shaking your head. “Sure you are.”

Despite his antics, he was unusually still as you worked, the weight of his wings relaxing into your hands. You reached a cluster of feathers near the base of his wing that was particularly knotted. His shoulders tensed at the gentle tug, and his ear-wings gave a quick flutter of surprise.

“Sorry, sorry,” you murmured. “Almost got it.”

Taph hummed again, this time softer, like an apology wrapped in a sound. He leaned his head forward, giving you better access to the trouble spot. His trust made you smile, and you worked carefully, smoothing out each feather until they glowed faintly in the lantern light.

After a while, you felt him fidgeting. His hands disappeared into his robes, and you paused, curious about what he was doing. “Taph?”

He didn’t respond immediately, instead pulling something from the folds of his robes. When he finally turned toward you, he was holding a single feather—small, with a radiant golden tip.

Before you could ask, Taph leaned closer, the motion deliberate but shy. His hooded face tilted, and with careful fingers, he tucked the feather behind your ear.

You blinked, startled by the gesture. His gloved hand brushed your cheek as he adjusted it, making sure it wouldn’t fall. Then he pulled back, his ear-wings fluttering rapidly, almost nervously.

"🫵🪶✨" (For you.)

“Oh, Taph...” you whispered, reaching up to touch the feather. It was soft and warm, and it carried the faintest glow, like it held a piece of him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He shook his head quickly, his wings flapping in little bursts as if to say, "Don’t argue with me."

"🙅🫵❤️" (I wanted to.)

You smiled, your heart swelling with warmth. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Taph nodded, his movements slower now, more at ease. He turned back around, folding his hands in his lap as you resumed preening his wings. The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft rustle of feathers and the occasional coo-like hum from him.

After a while, you couldn’t help but tease him. “You know, this feather is nice, but it doesn’t exactly make up for the trouble you got us into earlier.”

Taph’s ear-wings flapped indignantly, and he twisted slightly to face you again. "😠🕊️➡️😌" (Hey! I’m innocent.)

“Innocent, huh? Is that what you call sneaking into the kitchen and stealing pizza crusts?”

He froze, his whole body stiffening like a child caught red-handed. Then, slowly, he reached up and scratched the back of his hood. "😅➡️🙊" (Oops... Can we not talk about that?)

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

At that, Taph puffed up his chest proudly, his smaller wings fluttering in triumph. He twisted his head in a full circle, mimicking the dramatic flair of a preening bird.

"🫵😊❤️➡️👑" (You’re the best. My favorite person.)

You smiled, leaning forward to rest your chin lightly on his shoulder. “And you’re my favorite birdbrain.”

Taph let out another cooing hum, and you swore you saw his hood dip slightly, as though he was hiding a smile.

The lantern’s light flickered softly, casting the room in a warm, golden glow. For a while, there was nothing but quiet companionship as you finished tending to his wings. Moments like this reminded you why you cared for him so deeply—beneath the silliness and the antics, Taph had a heart as golden as the feather he gave.

Might've been OOC, but it's okay I guess hope you enjoy though. 🤷‍♀️

[mutant-distraction]

Colugo

Also known as the "flying lemur" (though it’s neither a lemur nor a true flyer). Found in the lush forests of Southeast Asia, these fascinating creatures can glide up to 150 meters between trees thanks to their large flaps of skin. They’re primarily nocturnal, feasting on leaves, fruits, and flowers.

✨ Fun Fact: Despite their name, colugos are more closely related to primates than to lemurs

📷: Hendy Lie Hendy Lie

credit: 1 Minute Animals

[revelboo]

I haven't actually read the canon content for lost light tbh, just fics. So I'm not sure his face place even works right cus I only ever see his mouth closed...

✨How ever✨ if it does open

I feel like Cyclonus could eat out reader the best. Top tier tongue game. Man being trilingual, a Cunni-linguist if you will.

I’m pretty sure it does open- and I headcanon him and TFA Blitzwing (maybe Brainstorm, too) having crazy venom-style glossas

🔞 Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Well. That’s not terrifying to wake up to. It’s typically around 300-400 max overnight

Scenario-glossa

Cyclonus x Reader x Tailgate

• “Do I even want to know what you two are giggling about?” Cyclonus growls, head lifting from his datapad. And you go red as Tailgate starts shaking with laughter to make his optics narrow. Deciding that no, he probably doesn’t want to know because it’s likely about him. Venting tiredly as you lean into the mass displaced minibot, hand over your mouth to keep from laughing and Tailgate flaps a hand at him.

• “Do the thing,” Tailgate demands, hooking an arm around you as you choke with laughter. And Cyclonus just stares at you both. “You know, my favorite thing,” Tailgate adds and Cyclonus growls, mouth opening and- holy crow. Your own mouth is falling open as you see his glossa for the first time. Oh. Ohhhhh. And you’re squirming against Tailgate.

• Feels the shift in your biofield where you’re leaning against him as Cyclonus curls his glossa slightly to make a loop with the tip. “Berth, please,” you say, staring and Tailgate cracks up as Cyclonus freezes and makes a low, rumbling noise. ‘Seconded,’ Tailgate adds, hooking an arm around you and dragging you so you’re sitting between his spread thighs. Hears Cyclonus clear his vents with a little huff, but he sets his datapad aside and stalks over. Rubbing his masked face against your neck as you start stripping, Tailgate rumbles. Wants to see how you look with Cyclonus’s glossa between your thighs, the sounds you make.

• Vaulting up with the two of you and mass shifting, he kneels between your spread thighs. Watching Tailgate’s wandering hands stroking over you. Knowing that the minibot just wants him to get you ready for his spike, but he’s been wondering how you’d taste. Knows how you feel wrapped around his spike, all slick heat. And before the end, he’ll be spike deep in both of you anyway taking turns with you.

• Flushing as Cyclonus stretches out between your thighs and drags that glossa against your inner thigh, looking up at you and his stare is almost predatory. And you’re grabbing his horns when he licks you, that thick glossa tunneling inside you as you throw your head back against Tailgate, hips bucking. Moaning a protest when Tailgate hooks his leg under yours one at a time to lift them over Cyclonus’s shoulders. Feel that thick glossa curling, thrusting inside you as he growls. “Your favorite thing, too, huh?” Tailgate whispers, masked cheek brushing yours as he watches, a servo brushing your bottom lip and you latch on to him with a whimper. Definitely your new favorite thing.

[kittenscookie]

🪽✨Hermes~✨🪽 and May

M.E Hermes: *Gently takes May's hands*

M.E Hermes: ...*Kinda Nervous* Darling, we've been seeing each other for awhile and there's something very important I've been meaning to ask you...

May: Yes...?

M.E Hermes: *Deep Breath*

M.E Hermes: Would you like to meet my boyfriend...?

May: ...The dead blind prophet?

M.E Hermes: The dead blind prophet yes.

May: Sure.

M.E Hermes: *Giggles as his earwings flap about happily*

[amphibiahawks321]

[Lute staring up at Adam in disbelief, shocked–And even insulted]

Lute : ...Sir How wasn't I informed about this information?!

[Adam having a smug expression, knowing damn well what he's doing]

Adam : Yeah–i'ma My fault on that one Lutey lute but HEY! At least now you know! Doing it could really get that dude's bone hard, truust me!

Lute : let me get this straight, an exorcist can make themselves look more alluring when they flap their wings in front of their lover...

Adam : Preeecisely!✨

Lute : ....Sir we already established that our wings can do many things–But making ourselves look more alluring?

Adam : Duuh! Pftt–i just never told you about it cause I thought you'd forever go one hand solo every time–Didn't know you would actually get WITH someone

Lute : .....

[Lute walks away, leaving Adam laughs out a bit when he sees lute fully away]

Adam : Oh my god is she actually gonna–Did she actually fall for it?! No way!–Oh I just GOTTA fucking see this!

Few hours later

[AngelY/N is seen having a conversation with someone–till he sees lute nearby and immediately excuse himself out of the conversation to go to her]

AngelM!Reader : Hey Lulu, Whatchu doin!

[Lute jolts slightly as she turns around awkwardly and still wearing her mask]

Lute : I was looking for you...

AngelM!Reader : Chuckles... Sorry, I really went a little cukoo around the place–

[Lute opens up her wings, As a rose of blush starts appearing through her mask]

AngelM!Reader : It's never gonna not impress when you show off your wings–

[Y/N's expression changes to confusion when he sees Lute starts flapping them repeatedly]

AngelM!Reader : Uhh–I would say I'm impressed if I'm not so confused, what are you doing exactly?

Lute : Do you feel anything... Different...

AngelM!Reader : No? I mean... I'm staring at my intimidating angel with love but that's just the usual–what am I supposed to feel different about exactly?–

[Lute immediately flies away, embarrassed and not saying a word, leaving Y/N more confused... Adam's laugh can be heard from the distance]

[psychemochanight]

More of AuDHD Dick Grayson HCs ✨ (ft. some JL members).

Although Batman and the rest of the League rescue children often, they don't really have enough contact with them to know what is normal and what isn't in young children.

So, and more so because knowing that Robin is Dick Grayson and that he grew up in a circus, they really have no idea that the things the boy does are out of the ordinary.

Batman doesn't find it strange that Dick sometimes doesn't want to eat certain things, honestly, he knows it's normal for some kids to be picky eaters.

Let Dick take from his plate what he likes and leave what he doesn't like from his food. They sometimes trade meals when it's clear that Dick simply can't tolerate the fancy food found in restaurants. At the Watchtower he always makes sure to have simple meals and chips, which seems to be the only thing the boy can eat without feeling nauseous.

(Just think about it when Dick is Nightwing and keeps eating the same thing, always choosing the same dish over and over again. His friends and other heroes tell him that he has a child's palate.)

Superman doesn't find it strange at all when the little boy waves his hands in excitement while bouncing on his tiptoes when he sees him. He's not quite sure if all kids flap their hands like that when they're excited, but at least it fits with his bird-themed name... Although he thinks it looks more like a hummingbird than a robin.

(Even as an adult, Clark still sees Dick shake his hands when he's excited, though it's less obvious now, still stands on tiptoe a lot tho... He learned that gymnasts sometimes do weird positions with their tiptoes, so he doesn't say anything.).

Diana adores the boy, but doesn't know if it's normal for all children to rock on their feet as often as Robin does. The child cannot sit still long enough to listen to an entire lecture without starting to rock himself, especially if he has to talk for any reason.

(As adults, Donna laughingly tells her that even now, Nightwing still can't help but rock himself on his feet when he's speaking in front of the team, so he usually walks to avoid it).

Hal knows he's never met a kid who was as messy and tidy as Robin is. More than once he saw him working on different files in the Watchtower, and Hal swears that the arrangement of the papers on the table makes no sense to him at all, but Dick seems to understand everything and gets annoyed when anyone, even Batman, moves the papers.

(He repeats this like Nightwing. He swears that only a few heroes can keep up with his disorder, but most don't make sense of it until he explains the patterns he sees).

Oliver thinks the kid is just a little weird, but he likes him too much to say it out loud, he likes to tease Bruce when Dick keeps calling him uncle Ollie at parties... Although he wishes the boy would stop climbing on chandeliers when he's too tired to talk anymore, he feels like he has grey hair and is barely in his early thirties.

Dinah enjoys talking to the boy, she simply adores him too much and likes to sing for him, although she is always careful with her tone of voice. Who would have thought that a child who grew up in the hustle and bustle of the circus would be sensitive to noise?

(Even as an adult, Dick enjoys singing with Dinah and climbing on the roof to scare his uncle Ollie.)

Barry was always in awe of the kid's ability to follow along when he talks, even when the rest of the league has to remind him to slow down. Of course, he doesn't speak as fast as he could, but still, Robin understands better than anyone else what he says.

Robin also talks very fast, and sometimes loses control of the volume of his voice, but Barry thinks it's normal, after all, he later learned that Wally is the same.

(As an adult, Nightwing speaks more quietly than he did as a child, only raising his voice at certain times, such as to give directions. He still understands it better than anyone else, he even swears that he understands it even when he speaks faster than before).

No one takes Dick's hyperactivity (and occasional impulsiveness) as something strange, and rather than finding it strange, they are amazed by his ability to do several things at once... Although they sometimes wonder if something is really wrong with the boy when Nightwing, despite always being calculating, sometimes doesn't even think before he throws himself headlong into danger (what the hell was he thinking when he jumped into a radioactive city????)

Years of knowing the boy, but they never thought that something was out of the ordinary... Until other child heroes appeared.

[readychilledwine]

hello helloooo! I’m back with another fic idea if it interests you ✨so little Nyx is old enough to go to school maybe like kindergarten-ish age? And one day the IC is eating dinner and Nyx is like “I have a mate!” And obviously he doesn’t but still Rhys and Feyre are like WTF and then read his little bby mind and find out he’s just infatuated with his teacher. (Nyx gave her a cookie that he baked with the help of Elain which she ate and now he thinks they’re mates bc he’s too young to understand that that’s not how it works) and then during a school carnival or gathering or cute kindergarten level graduation the IC attends with Nyx and ofc Azriel is there. He doesn’t even know who Nyx’s teacher is but then he sees Nyx dragging a young female over to him where he introduces her to him, proudly saying “this is my mate!” And she just laughs but then the bond snaps for her and Azriel. And then fluff ensues from there with everyone trying to explain to Nyx that she’s not his mate and that she’s Azriel’s to which he takes forever to understand. He keeps trying to give her treats and flowers so that they’ll somehow be mates. Azriel becomes public enemy #1 in Nyx’s eyes because he stole her from him. And then fast forward to when Nyx is older, maybe finally with a mate of his own and they tell him the story at his wedding and he’s so embarrassed about it. could def see this as an OC fic but x reader works just as well!

Infatuation

I love writing little baby Nyx 🥺🥺🥺

Warnings - Nyx being a bit of a menace to society *well Az*

Nyx was beaming. Bouncing as he ate his dinner, little wings flapping every so often.

It wasn't unusual. Being surrounded by this much love, this much joy, this much devotion had made the little heir the happiest of babies, then a happy toddler, and now a happy 5 year old.

He picked up his little cup, sucking on the straw and took a big drink as Rhysand and Feyre shared a look. He set it back down with a satisfied lip smack and went back to his mashed potatoes.

"Alright, I'll bite," Cassian put his knife down. "What happened at school today?"

"I met my mate," Rhysand's face dropped at his son's little confession. "And she's perfect, and nice, and prettier than mommy."

Feyre hid her laugher behind a mask of concern before gently digging into Nyx's head.

There, as Nyx thought about his mate, was Miss Arianna, legs crossed as she read to them on the floor. Her black hair was tied up in two buns with pieces framing her face. She had a big smile on her lips as she read in different voices from the children's book.

Feyre and Rhys, despite their status, sat on a waiting list to have Nyx in her lessons. She was highly sought after, her students were all advanced for their little ages, and she allowed time in their schedules for naps. Something many teachers felt was unnecessary.

Rhys had loved you the moment he made the choice to ignore his morals and enter your mind during their interview.

You didn't care who they were.

You didn't care about their status.

You cared about the faelings.

You took children from every walk of life in Velaris. The poor, the rich, high fae, low fae. It didn't matter to you.

Rhys and Feyre both shared a look and chuckled. "And who is your mate, Nyx?"

He sighed with a dreamy look in his eyes, mind now flashing to you comforting him after he got hurt at recess, "Miss Arianna. I gave her a cookie, and we shared it, so I'm a taken male now."

Nesta had her hand over her mouth, eyes sparkling. "Well," Cassian started before a slap came to his thigh, warning him to let Rhys and Feyre take care of this gently. "You did better than Auntie Ness. She offered me a stale biscuit."

"Your mom made me a can of soup. Worse can of soup I've ever had. Lucien, what did Elain give you?"

Lucien smirked and leaned back, hand on Elain's pregnant stomach. "A five course meal with dessert."

They were all hoping Nyx would understand the implications of what they were saying, but the far-off look and content sigh told them he didn't.

A few weeks later, the inner circle and all of their partners and mates were at the school's end of the year celebration.

The grass had been packed with games, little events for the children, vendors charging nothing for sweets and foods at the kindness and generosity of the High Lord and Lady.

Nyx had long abandoned his family. Opting to run and play with his friends. Cassian and Nesta stood with their daughter, looking over the schools information sheets and the application to join Miss Arianna's class for next year.

"Mommy!" Feyre turned at the voice, beginning to laugh as Nyx dragged his teacher behind him. "Mommy! You were supposed to be behind me!" The heir tapped his foot, Miss Arianna looking away as she hid her smile at his little antics. "I had to bring her all the way over here!"

Arianna and Feyre held eye contact both of their eyes sparkling and knowing where this was going. "Mommy, this is my wife and mate, Miss Arianna," he pulled her to Mor and Emerie first. "This is my Auntie Mor and her wife Emerie." He didn't wait before ripping her to Amren and Varian. "Aunite Amren and Varian. You'll like Auntie Amren. She's real smart." She was pulled to Rhys next. The two adults shook their heads, smiling. "This is daddy. You can call him.... uh. Daddy?" He pulled her to Cassian and Nesta. "Auntie Ness and Uncle Cass," he looked around brow knit in confusion. "Where's Uncle Az and Clarissa?"

Rhys patted his head. "Ris wanted cotton candy, so Az took her to get cotton candy. Why don't you go play too? Then we can talk to your wife."

They watched as Nyx ran off. Clearly not looking to play but trying to find his missing uncle. "I tried telling him, but he's so attached to the idea of us spending the rest of our lives together that he doesn't fully understand."

They all laughed. "We tried too. He told us that we didn't understand."

"Strange. He said to me that the bond didn't snap right away for you either, High Lady, so he'd find the Suriel to tell me, and I'd feel it after that."

A soft pout came to Feyre's lips. "He doesn't understand why you won't be their teacher next year."

Arianna's face fell, the fine features morphing into sadness and longing. "I introduced them to Alexios and even had him sit and answer questions during round up day. I can talk to him. I'm so sorry. I wish I could keep them until higher level learning. We just-"

Feyre hugged her, stopping the unneeded apology. "We know. Cassian and Nesta were hoping to get Clarissa in your class."

"And we were hoping to hire you for private tutoring," Rhys, like his son, was not ready to let Her go. He had spent countless nights looking for ways to keep Nyx in her classes. "We would pay you well."

"That wouldn't be necessary," she turned to Cassian and Nesta, a big smile on her face. "Would you like to see my room? I'll have a different theme next year, but it will give you an idea of my environment."

"Lead the way," Cassian held Nesta close. Watching the two females interact, inserting questions as they walked into her classroom.

The Inner Circle all went to find food and place to eat, enjoying the small screams of joy and laughter around them. "She's really pretty," Emerie started slowly. "Maybe we should hook her up with Azriel. He hasn't dated since Gwyn."

Varian visibly flinched at the mentioned of Gwyn. "Does he still hate Tarquin?"

"Yes," they all answered together.

Azriel joined them seconds later. He was carrying Risa and holding Nyx's hand. "She crashed. Where's Cass? I'm going to take her home?"

Rhys motioned towards the schoolhouse, pulling Nyx to him and telling him to sit and eat. "Arianna offered them a tour of the classroom. A quiet place out of the sun might perk our niece back up, too."

Azriel nodded, carrying the small illyrian into the school house and following his shadows. He could hear melodic laughter and Cassian's loud voice, pausing at the doorway as his niece stirred and snuggled back into him, whispering for daddy. "He's right here, princess."

Nesta motioned for Azriel to join her. His jaw dropped at the sight of the classroom. It was a domed open glass ceiling, but the second it he entered, it began filtering light. "It knows she's sleeping," that voice had his shadows dancing. "I enchanted my room for my students so they're always in a comfortable environment. Never too bright, hot, or cold."

The room was filled with toys and exotic stuffed animals for snuggling. It was decorated like a rain forest from the continent, and an occasional call of something wild could be heard. "I suppose you enchanted all of this too?"

Azriel didn't look her direction, a look of shock and amazement going Nesta's way. Lady Death nodded eagerly, her eyes almost watering. She'd be heartbroken if Clarissa wasn't here next year, Azriel realized.

"Is this the little potential enrollee?" She walked over to Azriel, and nothing else was heard in the room. They didn't hear Cassian or Nesta respond, they no longer heard the soft sounds of animals and birds calling in the distance.

It was like everything in Azriel's life fell onto a new axis.

Arianna was his mate. The female he'd spent forever looking for.

And his nephew was obsessed with her.

Arianna spoke first, "We can't tell Nyx."

Azriel nodded. "I'll get banished to Mother knows where if we do."

Cassian looked between them before smiling, "Did you just secure my daughter's spot in her class? What kind of Aunt wouldn't teach her niece?"

Nesta smacked him hard, smiling from ear to ear. "Have dinner with us tonight? We share one of Rhys' and Feyre's houses with Azriel. He could fly you up for dinner, and we could all get to know each other."

"Only if you want that," Azriel nodded the second the sentence left her lips. "As, am I allowed to be blunt now?" They all nodded. "I was going to take her regardless," she turned to Nesta. "Morrigan scares me. It's why I took Nyx, too."

Arianna held Azriel's hand tight as they walked to the Riverhouse.

They had spent the summer getting to know each other. Going to coffee, to dinner, on long walks along the Sindra. It had taken all of a month for the two of them to decide this was serious, and they both wanted to move forward with the bond.

But that meant telling Nyx, who was still very much infatuated with her.

Azriel sighed as he grabbed the handle, "Ready?"

She nodded, hand stick folded delicately on his bicep. "Only if you are."

Azriel pushed the door to the lavish home open, smiling at Rhys and Feyre, who were waiting for them. They, Cassian, Nesta, and Azriel, had all decided the best way to do this was over a full family dinner.

"Uncle Az!" The shadoesinger stiffened. He had thought they would at least get to the table before the little heir appeared, but the Mother must have had other plans.

He came bounding into the room before stopping at the doorway with a loud gasp.

Azriel had never felt more like chopped liver as Nyx ran to his mate, hugging her legs. "Uncle Az brought my wife to dinner, Daddy!"

Rhysand scratched the stubble he had allowed to grow out due to his days being spent caring for Nyx as Feyre sat the throne. "We should all go sit on the couch, buddy. We need to talk about something."

Arianna allowed Nyx to pull her with him, looking back at Azriel with tears in her eyes.

He had discovered during their time together she had a Cauldron gift, one that had never been trained and just thought of as a personality trait. Arianna was an empath. She felt the emotions of others so deeply and could manipulate them if she tried.

It explained why she was so attached to children and them to her.

It also made her very useful in stressful situations. "Just breathe," Azriel mouthed as they all followed.

"Oh shit," Nesta whispered quietly. "We're doing this now?"

Rhys nodded. His eyes were already lining with silver as he sat across from Nyx with Azriel on one side and Feyre on the other.

The room was very quiet until Azriel spoke. "Nyx, Miss Arianna and I really need to tell you something, and we need you to try to stay calm." The shadowsinger sent a silent prayer to whatever Gods would listen and watched as one of his shadows held Arianna's free hand.

"Miss Arianna is my mate. I asked her to marry me."

The heir's face morphed into a little look of betrayal, his eyes starting to water as Rhysand and him held eye contact. "She's my mate, though."

Nyx looked at Feyre, hoping for support before looking back to a defeated Rhys. "I'm sorry, buddy, but She's Uncle Azriel's mate. Do you remember me telling you about the thread that connects me to Mommy?"

The heir cuddled closer into Arianna, glaring hard towards Azriel. "Why are you so mean?"

Feyre gasped at the question, immediately grabbing Azriel's hand. "Nyx!"

"He's trying to steal my wife!"

Arianna was in tears. The heirs emotions were overwhelming. She took over the conversation, blocking everyone from Nyx by taking both hands and sitting on the coffee table. "Nyx, honey, I'm so sorry, but Az and I are mates," they all felt the small tinge of magic shift. "I know this is hard for you. Your feelings are so valid, and it's difficult when you feel something this deeply to let go of that notion. It's hard processing such big emotions."

She wiped one of his tears. "Your mate is out there, hun. And she's wonderful, kind, smart, and closer in age than I am to you. You two will have so much more in common, and you will find joy and happiness in her that you never will in me."

"But she won't be you," Nyx sobbed heavily. "We're supposed to spend forever together."

She smiled softly. "And we will. You will always have me in your life. We will always be friends."

He glared towards Azriel, and Arianna turned his little head towards her. "You are hurting his feelings. Uncle Az loves you. We've spent a lot of time talking about how to handle this because he knew it would upset you, and it hurts his heart to see you so sad. You don't want to hurt Az. I can see if in your little face."

Nyx still glared at Az. "What if you two break up?"

"You'll be the first to know, bud," Azriel said softly.

"Good."

"Good," Azriel repeated.

"Fine."

"Fine," the heir smiled as his Uncle teased him.

It was then that Nyx decided to dive on Azriel, the Illyrian coming out of them as he started a tickle fight. "She was mine first!"

Azriel was laughing, holding the smiling boy close to him and allowing him to win. "And now she can be our. We can make her go places with us, bug her while we fight with our training swords, do pranks."

The heir stopped, that dimpled smile coming back out. "Prankies?"

Arianna's face fell as everyone started laughing. "Wait. What?"

Azriel smiled at her, sending her his love as Nyx whispered in his ear.

"We good?" She mouthed to him. He nodded, holding Nyx close. She stood to go comfort Rhys and Feyre, only for a shadow to trip her. "AZRIEL!"

The heir and shadowsinger ran off laughing as the other couples watched Arianna with shared grins, "Don't worry, sweetness," Cassian helped her up. "They're just getting started."

.General tag list:@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

I'll Teach You

Formerly : They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 3

Summary - Y/N decides she wants to learn to fly again.

Warnings/Other Notes - References to wing cutting/clipping, abusive family. This one is in 2nd person pov because the first two chapters were looking at Y/N and Az’s relationship from a source not within their relationship. 2k word chapter- Again, some of these lines/plot points are inspired by, or directly quoted from, ACOMAF. This chapter takes place prior to the first two chapters.

Part of The Shadowsinger and the Emissary Universe.

✨💫

You could feel the blade cutting into your wings. Tears spilled down your face as you screamed in pain, begging the Mother to make it stop. You were never going to fly again. The one thing that brought you unending joy, your only source of freedom, was being taken away.

“Y/N?”

The edges of your memories blurred. That voice, you recognized that voice.

“Y/N?!”

That sweet, honey-like voice called you. Something in you warmed and the pain lessened. Like you were basking in the sun.

“Y/N!”

You shot up in bed, your legs tangled in the sheets. A cold sweat dripped down your face and that same smooth voice kept saying something, but your mind was still catching up and couldn’t process them, not right now. Your chest rose and fell rapidly and then there were hands cupping your face. Not those smooth hands in the romance novels, but hands with bravery and adventure etched into them. Hands that felt like home. Your eyes shot up to meet a pair of hazel ones. Azriel.

“You’re safe. I’m here, your safe. Your father can’t touch you anymore,” the shadowsinger whispered to you. 

You nodded and leaned forward to wrap your arms around him. He reciprocated. You chased away the nightmare, remembering where you were. I’m here with Azriel. With Cassian, and Rhysand. With Rhys’s mother. Az saved you. Your arms tightened slightly around the shadowsinger, burrying your face into his muscular shoulder. His shadows curled around the both of you. His scent felt like home. The same scent that you had become familiar with every time you fell asleep, the one still lingering in the bedding when you woke up and he was gone off to train, with a promise to come back in time for dinner.

Sharing a bed with the Illyrian didn’t start right away, not on purpose. It just happened one night. Azriel never made it back to his own bed, instead he fell asleep comforting you from the same nightmare. Then it became purposeful, falling asleep and not returning to his own chambers. And one night the shadowsinger didn’t even bother finding his way into his own bed, Az just went straight to yours. You certainly didn’t mind and Rhys’s mother never said anything.

“Azriel?” You asked against his shoulder.

He placed the gentlest kiss to your temple. One that reminded you of a waltz you heard one day in Velaris. “Yes?”

You lifted your eyes to look at Az’s face. “What if I never fly again?” Your chest started heaving again. You broke away from the shadowsinger and looked away. It felt like someone had lit a fire inside you. Not one that someone makes to keep you warm on an incredibly chilly night, but a fire started out of malice, one to kill and destroy.

Azriel’s features became softer, contemplative if that was at all possible. “Impossible…because I’ll teach you.” 

Your eyes shot up to his face. “Are you…certain? Do you not need to train? I don’t—”

“I would spend the rest of my life in that damned cell for you again, Y/N.” He paused. “Don’t think I wouldn’t teach you to fly. Unlike Cass and Rhys I remember learning. Both of them would tell you to just flap your wings. I understand the fears and mental blocks of being older.”

You let out the softest laugh, wiping a drop of sweat from your forehead. “Thank you, Azriel.”

He nodded in his silence, considering something a moment. Az stood from the bed, his pants sitting low on his hips as he disappeared into the washroom and reappeared a few moments later with a damp cloth. “May I?”

You nodded and he gently pressed the cool cloth to your forehead, making the sweat disappear as if it had never happened. His shadows flitted through your hair. Whispering to you. Care. Care. Care.

The shadowsinger tried to call them back, but they had a mind of their own, especially around you. You chuckled lightly. Silly little guys, acting like a bunch of toddlers. When Az decided he had done a sufficient job of wiping your face he pressed another kiss to your forehead before hanging the cloth to dry and returned. 

You were lying down in the bed when he returned. He climbed in next to you before pulling you against him. You both fell asleep and slept soundly for the rest of the night.

The following day you went into Velaris with Rhysand’s mother to run a few errands. Her skills as a seamstress were impressive and she used it as an opportunity to occupy a portion of her time. You stopped at your favorite bakery to pick up a few things for dinner that evening. You also found a used book on diplomacy that was on sale. Rhys’s mother kindly bought it for you; well maybe more for Azriel’s shadow who seemed desperately intrigued with it. When you returned home, to your surprise, Trouble, More Trouble, and Too Much Trouble, were already there. (Nicknames you had aptly given to Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian.)

Too Much Trouble grinned when he saw you and clapped his brother on the back. “This one here got us kicked out early today for starting not one, not two, but three fights. I mean he looked like death coming to collect souls for the next life. Don’t insult, Y/N!!”

“Shut up, Cassian,” Rhys said, giving a pointed look.

“You weren’t any use, Cassian,” Azriel growled back while shoving his brother’s hand away from his shoulder. Az had a black eye and dried blood along his cheek bone. He didn’t meet your gaze but his shadows happily slithered over to you. Protect, Protect, Protect, they whispered to you. Then you understood the shadows’ need to be near you, hovering. The reason why you had a shadow over your shoulder since Az saved you from your father. A form of protection, something to keep you safe, something to report back to the shadowsinger if you were in danger. 

And that’s exactly what Azriel had done earlier that day. Defended you without remorse. 

You glanced at Cassian who had a bruise on his jaw and then to Rhys who also had a black eye. Rhys’s mother looked far from pleased. “Cassian. Rhysand. Upstairs! Clean yourselves up.” Her gaze turned to the shadowsinger. “Azriel. Sit .” She announced as she put the bags down from your earlier trip to Velaris. 

For all her softness, Rhys’s mother certainly had a sharpness to her not often seen. Rhys and Cass’s wings hung ever so slightly and only for a moment before they shifted again and they disappeared up the stairs. You followed them.

When you got to your room, you opened the book bought earlier that day and began reading on the bed. The sheets still smelled of him, of both of you. The shadow rested on your shoulder, appearing deeply engrossed in the words too. About fifteen minutes later you could hear the shadowsinger coming up the stairs. You knew it was him for the sole reason of his footsteps. You had learned how Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian walked. The heaviness of their feet, the pace.

You could hear Az and Rhys out in the hall. “Your mom wants you,” is all you heard before Rhys is walking downstairs and the shadowsinger is walking into your room. You closed your book to look up at him.

“C’mon.” The shadowsinger stepped towards the small balcony and opened the doors. “You can’t learn to fly in here.”

“What,” you asked him, confused.

“You think I started the third fight for the fun of it?” Azriel asked, offering his hand out to you.

You only gave him a confused look, remaining on the bed.

He walked back towards the bed where you sat reaching for your boots. He knelt down on his knees. “Sure, the moron had it coming. That doesn’t change the fact that fighting with him for a third time got me the afternoon off to teach someone how to fly.”

Your mouth fell agape. “Azriel,” you admonished and a smile came over the shadowsinger’s lips before pulling on your boots. “I am perfectly capable of putting on my shoes, Az.”

He only offered you a hand after he tied them up. You took it before he swept you into his arms. You craved his embrace, more than so many other things. Azriel walked back towards the balcony and shot into the sky.

You never imagined how some people hate this, because Gods this felt good, felt like freedom. It reminded you of your childhood when you flew whenever you could, as if flying up into the sky might take you away from all of your problems. You just hoped the next time you flew it would be on your own wings.

Azriel landed in a clearing, gently placing you down on the ground carefully, to make sure you didn’t fall. “I want you to be careful. If anything hurts too—”

“I promise I’ll tell you,” you said to him with a nod. 

“Is it…is it okay…okay if I touch your wings? For correction I mean? Should it be… necessary?” The shadowsinger asked from behind you, almost nervously. For good reason. The concept of touching someone’s wings without permission, in particular females, was beyond inappropriate. 

You nodded, you could sense the shadowsinger behind you, observing your wings carefully. You could feel his eyes scanning up and down. “Azriel?” You asked quietly.

“I can’t say I am a healer and know the anatomy well, but perhaps we start at the beginning. Test the muscles, the ligaments.”

You nod, something feeling oddly intimate about the moment. You turn to face the shadowsinger whose face had contemplating written all over it.

“Try spreading them and tucking them in,” he said as you faced each other. 

You nodded, spreading your wings as best you could. Mother above you hadn’t actually tried to do this in a while. You grimaced but managed to spread them, pushing them to your full extent, spreading your feet to offer you more balance.

A small smile of pride was clear on Azriel’s face. “Now fold inward.”

You did, slowly, afraid to tear or rip something in your wings. You couldn’t stop the smile when you folded inward with success. 

“Good,” he said with a mild amusement in his eyes. “Try again.”

You spread your wings again, your muscles ached, but that was good. That meant they were there, that meant you had a chance. 

Azriel’s eyes followed the movements, and cauldron boil him if your form wasn’t the most stunning thing he had ever seen. The shadowsinger had to put more concentration into not letting his knees buckle under him than he would like to admit. Beautiful. Stunning. Lovely. Beautiful, stunning. Lovely, his shadows whispered in his ear.

You pulled your wings shut rather than slowly closing them which caused you to lose your balance slightly, falling forward. Azriel reached out to catch you before you could land on the ground with a light amusement in his eyes before he suddenly realized how close in proximity you were to him. 

You’d been this close before. By the Gods, you shared a bed every night, but something felt different. You gently rest your hands against the shadowsinger’s chest in silence. 

“Y/N?” He asked quietly, hands shifting to cup either side of your face.

You looked up to see his face leaning down slightly. “Azriel.”

You don’t know who leaned in first, maybe Azriel, maybe you. It didn’t matter, because moments later the shadowsinger’s lips were on yours. They were sweet, and salty, and soft and warm. Like a warm biscuit on a cold night. Your fingers wound up in his hair before he pulled away. “Was that okay?”

His response was pulling your lips to his again, harder, more desperately like he had lived in a dry desert for centuries and you were a tiny pool of water in the middle of it all.

You returned to opening and closing your wings, building the muscle until it was as easy as walking, though it certainly felt like the cauldron was burning you alive when you woke up the following morning. But you couldn’t be bothered, you were going to fly again.

Taglist: @5onedirection5

[serpentandlily]

Untouchable III - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst

a/n: Okay all your comments/reblogs have literally made me dieeee laughing. Y'all are so funny lmao. Hope you enjoy this one! I had lots of fun writing it <3

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part III

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The cool night breeze kissed the flesh exposed by your silk nightgown as you sat on the railing of your balcony, dangling your legs over the edge. You could faintly hear music and the sound of laughter as Velaris came alive around you. You blew a loose strand of hair out of your face as you gazed up at the bright moon glowing down on you in the night sky. 

“I need some advice right now, Mama,” you whispered into the night. “Everyone seems to be finding their place in this world but I…I don’t know where I belong or what I’m even here for. And everything has been falling apart recently and I could really, really, use one of your hugs right now.”

After the disastrous training session this morning, you had spent the rest of the day watching over Nyx. Being with him made you feel better. Your nephew was a reminder that there were more important things in your life than a certain shadowsinger and his crazy mood swings. 

But now Nyx was asleep and you were left alone with your thoughts once again. 

Azriel had been so rough with you today, so cruel. And your heart panged with the thought that he would never dare treat Elain, or even Mor, like that. You let out a sigh and drew one knee to your chest, resting your head against it. Would this heartache ever go away? Or were you cursed by the Mother to forever yearn for a male who would never want you? 

Somehow you could sense him before you even heard the flap of wings. A thud sounded behind you and the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar flooded your senses. His presence felt heavy and dark and you refused to turn around despite the way it put you on edge. 

Silence. Nothing but tense silence filled the air. If it wasn't for Azriel's looming presence behind you, you might've thought you imagined him coming. You waited a breath...then another. Still nothing. You felt him take a step closer to you; his shadows eased their way between your arms, over your shoulders, through your hair. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck. 

Another moment went by and you couldn't take it anymore. You blew out a low breath. 

"I didn't snitch on you if that's what you're thinking," you scoffed, your gaze never straying from the moon. "You can blame that on Cass. So if my brother sent you here to apologize, save it."

Silence once more. Your grip on the edge of the stone railing tightened. Why wasn't he saying anything? Why did he come here? 

"Rhys didn't send me here." You almost jumped at the sound of his voice, your heartbeat rising. "In fact, your brother forbade me from seeking you out."

Yet here he was, going directly against his High Lord's orders. Your brows furrowed but you refused to turn around, refused to look at him. So much had changed between the two of you in the last twenty-four hours.

"So why are you here?"

"I hurt you." His voice was as dark as his shadows.

You glanced down at your bandaged hand. The image of his cold face as he struck down on you with his sword replayed in your mind. But you weren't sure which had hurt more. The slice down your palm or the words he had spat at you. 

"You did." 

"Y/n..." he whispered your name. You felt his hand ghost over your shoulder, as if he were about to touch you, but his touch never came. "I'm sorry. I was...I was angry and I took it out on you—”

"You weren't just angry, Az," you cut him off. "You were angry with me. Why? What did I do to earn your ire?"

You finally turned around and gasped as you caught sight of his face. He had a black eye, his left cheekbone was surrounded by black and purple bruises, and his bottom lip had been split open, though it looked to be already healing. His hair was tousled as if he had spent hours running his hand through it, some pieces hanging down his forehead. 

"I deserved it," he said, darkly as your eyes searched his face for any more injuries. You knew your brother had been behind them. "You've done nothing wrong. Like I said, I wasn't angry with you."

You let out another scoff and jumped down from the railing. The ground was cold against your bare feet as you brushed past Azriel and strode towards the glass doors leading to your bedroom. 

“Where are you going?”

You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I refuse to entertain a conversation with you if you’re going to blatantly lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” he ground out through his teeth. 

You whirled around, crossing your arms. “Then why did you say all those things to me? If you were just angry, why not let off steam by sparring with Cass like you always do? You targeted me.” 

“I didn’t mean any of the things I said, y/n.”

“You still said them.” 

“Fine,” he snarled. He stalked towards you looking like a fallen angel straight from Hell, wings and all. You couldn’t help but take a step back. “Do you want to know why I’m so angry, princess?”

You gasped as he pressed a large hand flat against your sternum and pushed you against the wall, holding you there. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. His expression was dark, his jaw clenched. 

“I’m angry because you let that undeserving, piece of shit male put his hands all over you,” he growled. “I'm angry you even let him look in your direction.”

You glared up at him. “Why should it even matter to you?”

“Because it does.” He slammed a hand against the wall beside your head causing your heart to pound in your chest. “It fucking does.”

“Why?” Your voice was a mere whisper. 

Azriel sucked in a breath, his head dropping into the crevice of your neck. You didn’t think your heart could beat any faster or you might possibly die. He splayed his hand out on your stomach, holding you in place. 

“Azriel?” you questioned, uncertain of what he was doing. He had never acted so erratic around you. You went to take a step forward but he slammed you back against the wall with the hand on your stomach. 

“Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t move.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. He trailed his nose up your throat column, barely brushing against the fragile skin. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his touch, at his closeness to you. 

“Az,” you started, placing your hand on his chest. “What are you—”

You stopped talking as he laid his hand over your much smaller one. He closed his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Don’t touch me.”

But his hand squeezed yours, keeping it in place. You were so confused—so utterly confused by his behavior. He pried your hand off his chest after a moment and you let your arm fall limp.  

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice was so low, it sent a shiver down your spine. His hand gripped your hip so tightly, the fabric of your nightgown bunching in his fist. 

When his eyes opened again, he looked wild—feral. His hand slid up your waist, grazing the side of your breast, until it lingered on your throat. Heat started to coil inside of you. Fire burned a trail through your veins. You couldn’t find any words, your mind suddenly empty of every single thought except one.

Azriel took a deep inhale and you were certain he could smell your arousal. Your cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. But his pupils dilated at your scent, making his eyes look black, as the hand that was on the wall clenched so tightly, parts of the brick chipped off, clattering to the floor. His other hand moved up your throat to cup the side of your cheek, a scarred thumb brushing against your skin. 

You swallowed audibly, frozen in place. You could scent his own arousal, could feel it pressing against your stomach, as his hard body kept you as its prisoner. Your mouth parted in a gasp and his head dipped down, his nose brushing against yours. And then his lips hovered over yours and you held your breath. Your body screamed at you to do something, anything. But he had ordered you not to move, not to touch him.

Your heart nearly stopped as his lips feathered yours and you waited. Waited for him to make the final move, to press his lips against yours for real. To kiss you. Something that had only ever happened in your dreams. But instead, he let out a loud grunt of pain and pulled himself away from you so quickly, it felt like you had been slapped. 

You blinked up at him, disorientated. “A-Azriel?”

He let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair, as his whole body seemed to tense. When he met your eyes, goosebumps covered your skin because of the darkness in his gaze. The hand at his side clenched in and out of a fist. Like he was restraining himself from something. 

You were shaking like a leaf, glad the wall could support you, otherwise you were sure you would’ve crumbled to the floor. You waited for him to speak, to say anything that might explain what the hell had just happened. But when he finally did, his words were like a spear to the heart.

“Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.” The words came out in a snarl and his huge wings snapped out, casting a dark shadow over your form. Before you could even say anything, he launched himself into the air and disappeared into the dark night sky. 

The breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding in was expelled out of your lungs and you slid down the wall until you were on the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest. Your mind whirled as you tried to figure out what just happened. 

But hours later, when the sun began to crest over the horizon, you were still so lost. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A few days passed by without you so much as catching a glimpse of Azriel. Apparently, your brother had sent him off on some mission, likely out of spite. Or perhaps even for your benefit. As much as you wanted to see him after that night on the balcony, his absence gave you time to think about what you wanted or needed to do. 

Ultimately, you decided the next time you came across him alone, you would force him to talk to you, to tell you what the hell that night was about. It was only fair. You deserved an explanation after all. He had treated you like shit, then came to you and nearly kissed you, before disappearing. And his words had been ringing in your head every single night.

Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.

They made no sense to you. It had seemed like he wanted you that night, judging by the arousal you had scented, the feel of him against you. And you knew he could tell you wanted him too. So why would you be doing either of you any favors from staying away from him? It made no Godsdamn sense and you needed an answer to his cryptic words. So you would demand it of him the next time he came around. 

You stretched your legs out on the couch, yawning as you placed a bookmark to keep your place in the novel you were in the middle of reading, and snapped it closed. It had been a long day of taking care of Nyx while Rhys and Feyre had to attend to some courtly duties. The house had been noticeably vacant today, just the two wraith twins occasionally floating in to check on you and baby Nyx. 

Normally Elain was around to keep you company on days like this but even she had run off somewhere for the day. You had just started to get up, ready to retire to your bed, when the front door slammed open. You jumped at the noise, whirling towards the foyer. Rhys and Feyre weren’t due back until tomorrow morning, so who else could it—

Elain stumbled into view, followed by Azriel. Both hadn’t even noticed your presence as they kissed wildly, bumping against the walls as they moved inside. The scent of Elain’s arousal flooded the room and you choked on the scent causing them to break apart in surprise. 

Your stomach sank at their appearance. The top buttons of Azriel’s shirt were undone, exposing some of the tattoos on his chest. Elain’s hair was in disarray, her lips swollen, as if they had been up to this for a while now.  Well, that explained why Elain had been gone all day. 

You stared at them with wide eyes as hurt slammed its way into you. Azriel had returned from his mission. He had returned and had sought out Elain. Hadn’t even thought to come to you to maybe give you some explanation of that night. You were probably the last thing on his mind right now anyways, that much was clear. 

“Oh my Gods,” Elain exclaimed, placing a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I knew Feyre and Rhys would be gone and assumed you’d be in bed by now.” 

Azriel said nothing, only stared at you with a cold, unfeeling look. You felt your breath shallow out, your nerves causing your hands to shake. You wanted to scream, wanted to vomit, to cry. But you did nothing. Just mustered up a small smile and muttered, “It’s okay.”

Elain went to say something else but Azriel grabbed her hand and leaned down to whisper in her ear, holding eye contact with you the entire time. “Come on, let’s go.”

He smirked as she blushed red and you could do nothing but just stare and stare at him. You didn’t move an inch as he pulled her away and up the stairs, Elain giggling the entire time. You didn’t move even after you heard her bedroom door slam close. 

You thought there was no way he could’ve hurt you more, but you had clearly underestimated him. How could he? How could he…act like that with you and then just carry on as if nothing happened? How could he just carry on with another girl after that charged night? You hand clenched the book you were holding as you struggled through your feelings. 

Your already broken heart somehow found even more ways to tear itself apart. But unlike months ago when you had caught them in the same predicament and cried all through the night and eventually fled from Velaris, no tears came this time. No tears at all. Instead white hot anger burned through you instead. 

You were tired of being captive to your own feelings. Tired of letting the stupid shadowsinger have so much power over you. You were so unbelievably tired of being constantly hurt by him. You couldn’t even use the excuse that he had no idea what he was doing to you when he had just made it so clear he did.

Your jaw tightened and you gave yourself over to the rage you felt. He had told you to stay away from him. So you would. But you sure as hell were about to make it impossibly hard for him to stay away from you. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The next two days, you did exactly that. You ignored Azriel entirely. Didn’t so much as look in his direction. At training each morning with the Valkyries, you made sure to have a sparring partner ready to go before he could even open his mouth and demand you train with him. You didn’t greet him, only hugged Cassian good-bye each day, and pretended you didn’t hear him when he would call out your name. 

Meanwhile, you had spent your time in heated negotiations with your brother. You were ready to carve a place out for yourself in this court and after many discussions with him, Feyre and Mor, you three had reached a compromise. A certain letter that came from the continent had helped you plead your case. 

And that is why when Rhys stood up at family dinner, clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention, you knew exactly what he was going to announce. You kept your hands folded in your lap, your shoulders held back, and your body angled away from the end of the table where the shadowsinger sat. 

“Another announcement in a week?” Cassian laughed. “Don’t tell me Feyre’s having twins!”

Everyone chuckled as Nesta slapped him on the back of his head. He only grinned at his mate, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You smiled at their interaction despite the envy that crept its way into your head. Oh how you wished for that kind of love. Perhaps one day you would find your own mate and forget about the shadowsinger entirely. 

“Gods no,” Feyre chuckled from beside Rhys who conjured a piece of parchment in his hand. “We come with some news from the continent.” 

“I received some correspondence from Prince Cedric,” Rhys explained. “The King of Vallahan’s first born son and Heir to the Throne.” 

“Go on, read it to them,” Mor said with a giddiness that caused you to smile. 

Rhys read from the letter out loud:

To High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand,

I am writing to you because I have had the pleasure of spending the past month in the company of your lovely sister, y/n. I must admit, your sister has charmed my heart with her kindness, grace, wit and loyalty to your court. We know very little of Prythian’s courts here on the continent, but if your sister is a shining example of your citizens, I must admit, I am all the more curious about your court. As you might know, I am next in line for the Crown and my time may be coming soon.

In a world dictated by power, alliances between territories have allowed for stability and peace. When my time to wear the crown comes, I would like it to also come with the forging of two strong realms. With the utmost sincerity and goodwill, I believe a union between our territories through marriage would not only reward me with a beautiful bride, but prosperity and peace between our people. I assure you, High Lord, that I will propose with sincere commitment to your sister, to give her a life filled with love and respect as my future Queen. 

I understand that this is not a decision that will be made without proper communications, so I am prepared to meet with you at your earliest convenience to discuss this matter further. I hope you consider my request and I will remain with anticipation until you reach out.

Sincerely yours,

Prince Cedric of Vallahan

Heir to the Throne

A fork dropped on the table somewhere behind you and the room was silent for a moment before Cassian let out a loud whistle. “Holy shit, y/n!”

Mor cackled, reaching over the table to give you a high five. “That’s right, our girl bagged herself a Prince.” 

Your cheeks turned a bit pink at the attention. To be honest, you had no idea that Prince Cedric had been captured by you. It wasn’t like you engaged in any romantic courting or even so much as touched each other's hands. But your mere personality had won him over. Too bad he just wasn’t the male your heart had set its course on. 

“Not just a Prince, girl,” Amren chimed in. “A future King.” 

You could feel a heavy gaze settle on you from the other side of the table but refused to look that way. 

“And what about you, y/n?” Nesta asked. “Did the Prince win over your heart as well?” 

“I must admit, the letter came as quite a surprise to me,” you answered honestly.

“To me, as well,” Mor jumped in. “I mean, it’s not like they spent much time together outside of the formal dinners and parties we attended while there. Unless, of course, you snuck off with him while I wasn’t watching, you naughty wench.” 

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I assure you, I was a proper lady during our time at the King’s Cross.” 

“You certainly weren’t a proper lady during our time in Nysa,” Mor mumbled under her breath with a smirk. You kicked her under the table with a glare. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at Azriel this time. He was already staring at you, his jaw set, his fist clenched around the stem of his wine glass. You could’ve sworn a bit of jealousy shined in his eyes. You quickly looked away, not wishing to show him you even cared about his reaction, though you did. 

“Well, as fun as this is,” Cassian said. “There’s no way you’d marry off your sister to go live in another territory. Right, Rhys?” 

Rhys looked inclined to agree but Feyre nudged him in the gut with her elbow. “If that is what she wishes, she will always have my blessing. It is her choice, of course. But a marriage is not the announcement I planned on making today. I merely read this letter to you all to show you how successful y/n has been as a representative of our court. And because of that, we have officially decided to not only give her the title of Emissary, but she is also going to take over Mor’s position in the Court of Nightmares since Mor has had her hands full with negotiations on the continent.” 

“It's about time you let your sister prove herself as a valuable member of this court,” Amren said, the closest thing you’d ever get as a congratulations. She did give you a small smirk, pride shining in her silver eyes. 

“She has always been a valuable member,” Cassian snided but smiled at you regardless. “If this is what you want, y/n, then congratulations! I’m glad I’ve taught you all the ways to kick ass, especially if you’re now going to be spending more time in Hewn City.” 

You laughed but gave him your thanks. Feyre proposed a toast for you and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face for the rest of the night as they planned for announcing the shift in leadership to Hewn City. You had already bought your dress for the occasion, ready to make the shadowsinger eat his heart out. You even felt a bit vindicated as a certain male decided to spend the rest of his own night brooding in his shadows. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Azriel tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Both his mind and his shadows seemed to be in a permanent state of chaos ever since dinner. He couldn’t get the image of you smiling as Rhys read the Prince’s letter out of his mind. He had never considered the possibility of you leaving this court, had never thought Rhys would ever allow that. 

He threw his sheets off, standing up and prowling towards the floor length mirror in the corner of his room. His eyes fell on the skin above his hip, on the small tattoo of Illyrian wings with a sword going straight through the middle of them. 

He wished he could take truth-teller and slice that bit of skin right off his body. But even with its absence, the burden of it would never disappear. He let out a curse, pure rage racing through him. How could he have known things would turn out this way? How could he have known how much pain that tiny tattoo would eventually bring him?

His fist shot out, punching straight through the mirror. He was so angry he didn’t even feel the pain of the tiny shards of glass piercing his scarred flesh. Gods, this was all so fucked up. So incredibly fucked up. 

His heart pounded as he thought about how you had felt pressed against him that night on your balcony. How your scent had driven him crazy. How stunning you had looked under the moonlight in that tiny nightgown. The Princess of Night was an accurate title for you and all your beauty. 

He fell on his knees, the broken shards of glass crunching under his weight, letting the blood from his hand drip down on the floor. No pain would ever compare to the one he felt now. The pain of craving you. Craving the touch of your skin, the taste of your tongue, the moans he could drag from that pretty little mouth. 

And Gods, the way you had looked at him. He had almost caved. Had almost decided to burn it all to the ground for one chance to taste you, feel you, claim you. But he couldn’t. So he went back to doing what he always had–keeping you at a distance. It hurt to do so, even more so whenever he saw how much it hurt you, but it was better this way. You needed to move on, needed to look for love elsewhere. 

Life had always been unfair to him but this, this was quite possibly the worst of it. For he knew he would always yearn for you, crave you, love you—but only ever from a distance. Because for him, you…you had been made untouchable. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Tag List: @kalulakunundrum @going-through-shit @thelov3lybookworm @tinystarfishgalaxy @cat-or-kitten @abysshaven @vhjlucky13 @polli05927 @nightcourtwritings @wicked-mind @mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @nightless @a-frog-with-a-laptop @woodland-mist @tothestarsandwhateverend @lizziesfirstwife @e-dollly @hyemishii @pricklepearbloom @whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @bookishbroadwaybish @pinkangelskies @naturakaashi @sofietargaryen @minakay @alexboshallex @amysangel @i-am-infinite @furiousbooklover @glitterypirateduck @valencia-rou @pinkcowracing @marvelpotter @kennedy-brooke @stupidwingboy @foreverrandomwritings

*If you asked to be added to the taglist and don't see your username, it's because it wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :(

[armory-rasa]

COUCH POUCH!! Free Pattern & Tutorial

...called thus because they use upholstery-weight leather for the bag body, that in my case was in fact skinned off a couch. 🤣 Turns out they are relatively quick and easy to make, so I tidied up the pattern for printing and took pictures to document the process when I made another five of them.

First off, print your pattern, 100% scale:

The bag shape was a modified version of the pattern I used for the Morpheus sandbag, but sized to fit in the roughly 11" squares that my couch skin came in. It makes a bag that sits very well on a tabletop, thanks to the flat base.

Though it turned out to not be the most efficient use of material, because that plus-shaped pattern tessellates well, if you're cutting them out of a full hide, but makes a lot of waste when you're cutting them out of squares of material. A more efficient design would have a half-rounded front and back, and a gusset between them, like so:

Ah well. It's not like I have any shortage of couch skin, though for the next round I'm going to experiment with a more efficient pattern.

First step, trace and cut out the bag body from your chrome-tan leather:

Like I said, this was upholstery leather, but anything that's flexible and ~1.5 mm thick will do.

The flap and front need to be a stiffer leather though -- I used 7 oz latigo, but veg-tan would work equally well. (And then you could ✨tool it!✨)

Cut them out, and then use the pattern to mark where your holes are going to be. Mark the holes on your bag body too:

The latigo pieces get hand-stitched to the bag body, so I used a stitching groover to carve out little channels for the thread -- it's not strictly necessary, but it makes your stitches lay a lot more neatly:

Punch the holes shown below:

I used a ~5 mm hole punch for those, and a 1.5" slot punch for the belt loops. Some of the holes on the front piece you're not punching yet, because they need to go through both layers.

I put a dab of contact cement on the pieces (circled in white) to help hold them in place when I go to punch the stitching holes:

(Make sure you're not putting glue between the belt loops)

Wait fifteen minutes for the contact cement to dry until tacky, and then line up the holes and the edges and press the pieces together:

Punch stitching holes:

Saddle-stitch both pieces in place (takes 28" of thread per):

Now you can punch these holes:

(I used a slightly smaller hole punch than for the others, but it doesn't really matter.)

Now press the right sides of the leather together and sew up the seams from the inside:

A regular sewing machine should be able to handle this, though you will need thicker thread, a heavy-duty leather-sewing needle, and a walking foot attachment. (If you don't have a walking foot attachment, it is SO WORTH getting one, even if you don't expect to sew much leather. Seriously, I use it for everything -- once you go walking foot, you don't go back. 💀) Because you can't pin leather without leaving permanent holes in it, tiny binder clips can be helpful for keeping your material lined up.

What they look like when you're finished sewing:

Cut 19" of lacing for the drawstring, and 11" of lacing for the toggle:

I use the 1/8" EcoSoft lace from Tandy, I think it's stronger than real leather would be at that thickness. The only important factor here is that you need something with a bit of texture and friction -- a silk cord isn't going to stay closed, it's going to slip open.

MANY BAGS.

For these I used a wooden toggle -- cut another 8" of lacing, looped it through the toggle twice, and then made a tight square knot on the back:

But another option is putting a concho or a large button on the flap. The bag I copied this design from, in fact, uses a concho toggle:

Thread some beads on the laces to keep the ends from getting lost, and you are DONE! 😁

Happy Bagging!