#dress her in indigo

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

John D. MacDonald - Dress Her in Indigo - Robert Hale - 1971 (jacket design by Barbara Walton)

[mashallah]

one of the gifts I’m gonna try giving during tmrws concert eep!!!!!!

[houseofthelilypads]

Gwynn's commoner and royal outfits. Don't worry the smile is fake she thinks the outfit is too much and it's the LEAST intricate!

Link her picrew by @/periwinkleworld

[latenightdaydreams]

Perhaps you have plans for things, but can you please write part 2 of Viking! Konig? I'm so curious how would reader get used to her new life and her new husband

Husband upgrade🤭

Viking!König x Reader Part 2 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1, Part 3

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, breastmilk

2.1k word count

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Two middle life blonde women gently help you out of the tub they were bathing you in. Small drops of water fall to the wooden ground beneath you. They speak in a soft tone, but in a language you cannot understand. They’re telling you how beautiful you are and how lucky you are to be König’s queen.

You’re seated in a wooden chair, drying off from the bath. One woman stands behind you and combs through your hair. The other leaves out of your view to grab something. You shiver slightly, being naked and wet.

“Vi varmer deg opp snart.” The woman’s voice is kind, and she stops combing your hair and caressing your arms, trying to warm you.

You don’t respond, not knowing what she said. In a weird way, her touch feels familiar and calming. With a simple nod of your head, she goes back to combing your hair.

The other woman walks in front of you, holding up a beautiful blue dress. Again, she speaks and you just gaze up at her. Her blue eyes are bright as she’s speaking. Your head pulls back slightly as the tension on your scalp grows from your hair being pulled into a long braid.

Once your hair was done, she stood you up to dress you. The indigo blue dress fits you tightly, extenuating your breasts and the curve of your waist. A woven belt placed around your waist and a necklace with a medallion of a wolf dangles for it. Leather shoes tied to your feet as you

“Hun er klar.” She exclaims as she sees you totally transformed into a queen. “La oss gå.”

You leave the small house, their arms wrapped in yours as your guild you down a pathway. Inside, you feel as though you are about to throw up. Your feet drag beneath you, dreading seeing König.

“I can’t” You try to turn but the women’s grip on you is firm.

“Du blir bra.” One speaks as she pets your arm.

König paced back and forth in his house waiting for Hilda and Thyra to finish cleaning you for him to enjoy. He walks shirtless and without a mask, exposing his sculpted body covered with battle scars, tattoos on his pecs, and scars on his face. His light blonde hair falls to his shoulder, some pushed behind his left ear.

His head turns as he sees the door open and you enter. The same worried look that has plagued your face this whole journey is still there. König walks to you and takes your hand, thanking the women and sending them on their way.

Worried or not, you’re still the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on. You look as if a goddess decided to come live amongst men. He will never understand how he got so lucky as to find you. Your breasts are full and swollen with milk, he can’t wait to taste you.

“You look beautiful, Liebling.” The door closes, and it’s just the two of you.

“Please, I can’t stay here.” You instantly plead, voice shaking. “I need to go home.”

“You are home.” He looks down at your face, studying you in the low light. “Don’t be so sad.”

“My children—”

“Are safe at home.” His hands caress your arms up and down.

“I need my children here.”

“I’ll give you new ones. Stronger ones.”

König’s hands grasp yours and bring them to his chest. You look at his body, turning your head away to gaze at the ground. He lifts your chin to face him.

“How about you come with me? I’ll help you forget about your troubles.”

There was no room to protest as he grabbed your hand and led you to the large bed in the corner of the room. He sits on the bed and keeps you standing in front of him. His hands roam over the curve of your body. On the journey back he refrained from touching you so you could mourn your last life, but now- now you’re all his.

“Are your breasts sore?” He asks as his hands feel how swollen they’ve become after days away from your child.

You don’t answer, but just look him in the eyes. It’s clear to see that you’re too full to be comfortable. His hands squeeze slightly and the indigo fabric begins to darken from the milk he expressed. Thyra and Hilda got you all dressed up only for König to ruin you.

König grabs at the woven belt around your waist and slowly undoes it, pulling it towards him, and laying it on the bed beside him.

“Please stop, I’m a married woman.” You step back.

“You are. To me.” He wraps his arm around your waist and brings you closer.

“In the eyes of God, you’re not my husband.”

“God? Which one?” König teases as his hand runs down to rub your plump ass. “Here, in my land, you’re mine. Unless your old family comes to my shore and fights for you back…you’re mine.”

You just stare into his eyes and nod. Realistically, your husband will never come for you. He wouldn’t even know where to look. The memories of your life with him, with your children flashes before your eyes until a tap on your ass takes you out of your own mind.

“Let’s get you more comfortable.”  His voice is a soft whisper as he stands to get you naked in front of him. The last piece he grabs is your necklace, setting it down on top of your dress.

You stand naked. Your breasts are full and round. Body soft and curvy. A small white pearly bead of milk lingers on your left nipple. Between your legs is a soft patch of hair, he can’t wait to feel it rub against his face. All you can think about is how God will smite you for infidelity, you can only hope he understands.

“Look at you. Beautiful.”

König wraps his arms around you and places you gently on the bed, as if you were a delicate jewel he didn’t want to harm. He looks down at you as he finishes undressing. As he steps out of his pants, you can see his massive cock bounce, leaning down. He notices you looking at him, making him feel cocky.

“Big, ja?” He walks to you, parting your legs. “Let me show you how a real man fucks.”

Instantly, a blush forms on your face as you look at his blue eyes. His blonde hair falling forward as he looks down at you. You hate to admit that, compared to Callum, König is far more attractive. Your eyes travel all over his body, inspecting his tattoos as he moves on to the bed with you. He notices your gaze and smiles.

“It’s for my family name.” He whispers as he rests his large body next to yours.

“Oh.”

König moves his lips to yours, tenderly kissing you.  You don’t kiss back at first, and that's okay. He knows you’re nervous. His lips leave yours and travel down your neck, he lightly nips at your flesh. A small whimper leaves your lips causing him to smile.

Lifting his head for a moment, he moves his hand to your breast and squeezes. A fountain of milk begins to spurt out. König moves his mouth to your other nipple and begins to suck. He continues to squeeze the other to spray himself with it.

A mixture of relief and pleasure rushes over you. Callum has not touched your breasts since the milk came in, finding it repulsive. König acts like a starved man, as if your milk is the only thing that can save you. It’s…hot.

Milk begins to drip from the corner of his mouth, rolling down your breast. He slowly pulls away, licking his lips. “So sweet.”

König licks in between your breasts and over the other, cleaning up the mess he’s made. His hand slowly trails down your body and touches your pussy. The feeling of your wet folds between your fat pussy lips drives him wild.

“I can’t wait to bury my cock deep inside of you.” He growls as his lips kiss up your neck.

König moves his body between your legs, running his hands from your breasts down to your hips. He brushes his hair back and out of his face with one hand as he presses his cock against your entrance. You gaze up at him before he moves his hips forward.

“Wait.”

His eyes move to your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I- I can’t. My husband—” You were cut off by the euphoric sensation of meaty cock being shoved into your tight little cunt. A moan spills from your lips as your eyes go wide.

König grins looking at your reaction. He leans over your body to kiss the tip of your nose. “I am your husband now. Don’t forget that.” The words leave his lips as he slowly shoves the rest of his cock into you.

Your nails dig into his arms as you squeeze your eyes shut. König looks at your face, your mouth hanging open and eyebrows pinched together. His hips slowly pull back before pushing back into you slowly; enjoying the look on your face as he does. A small chuckle leaves his lips as he pulls away.

“My perfect queen.”

He grabs your hips, pulling your rear up slightly off the bed as he bucks forward into your tiny cunt. Your back is arched as his fingers dig into your ass. Loud moans leave your lips, loud enough people passing the home can hear the two of you.

“König, I- it’s too much.” You feel a tingle run over your body as a heavy pressure builds in your core.

He realizes that you’re about to cum, “beg for it.”

“For what?”

“To cum.”

“I- I can’t.” You feel shameful. Shame for having sex with someone other than Callum and shame for feeling this pleasure. You’ve always been taught to not give into this type of lust.

“It’s okay to let go.” He whispers in your ear as he leans over you, his arms on either side of your head. His lips meet yours, pushing his tongue past your lips. You open your mouth accepting him in as you mewl pathetically.

You turn your head away, desperately begging. “Please…harder.”

He grabs your head and forces his tongue back into your mouth. Moans leave your lips into his mouth as your legs tremble around his waist. His kisses begin to trail to your cheek and down your jawline as he feels your walls flutter around his cock.

“There you go.” His kisses travel down to your breasts.

König pulls out and stands from the bed, grabbing your legs and pulling you to him. His arms wrap around you and hold you up. One arm holds you tightly to his body as the other reaches down to line himself up with you. He pushes forward while lowering you slightly. A groan leaves his lips, your arms wrap around his shoulders.

His fingers grasping the supply flesh of your ass as his hips thrust into you; your tight little cunt squeezes his cock as he bounces you on his length. The lustful daze you’re in makes you gaze up at him as if you’re in love. The sound of your wet pussy and little pitiful sounds leaves your lips mixing. König glances down to your breasts bouncing. Everything is just perfect.

“Y/n…” He groans as his cock pulses, face scrunching with pleasure.

The next morning you take up to an empty bed. You rub your eyes and stretch, slowly stepping out of the bed. That’s when you noticed König sitting nude and watching you with a smile. Your eyes travel along his body before meeting his eyes, trying to sit in a way that conceals your body.

“Don’t try to hide your beauty, Liebling. It’s just us here.” He stands and walks over to you, caressing your face. Your braid is barely together and face flushed with an afterglow from last night’s activities.

“We have a long day ahead of us. You’re going to be introduced to my people as their new queen. They will be astonished at your beauty.”

You look into his eyes and nod. There is still a lingering sadness in your eyes, he is aware you miss your old life. It will take time for you to move on, but he knows you’ll be happier here with him. No longer are you poor and working the fields. Now you’re a queen.

Part 3

[alwayseternity]

“come on, come on !”

✦﹒( nsfw ) wanderer x f!reader﹒✶﹒﹒

being childe’s, or, ajax’s younger sister was the best thing in the world! he spoils you to no end, always making sure you’re dressed in the prettiest clothes and your skin is decorated with the most expensive jewellery.

he’ll pat your head and make sure you’re feeling okay before sauntering off back to the living room to converse with his friend, scaramouche.

“heey, i’m back!” the ginger would cheer, plopping down next to the indigo eyed male, who simply sent him a look from the side. “you wanna watch something?”

“mm.. sure.” he’d shrug, leaning back against the cushions as he closes his eyes. “what do we watch, though?” scaramouche adds with a hum.

childe sits in thought for a moment, before the sound of his phone ringing catches his attention.

“shit my mom’s calling — gimme a moment.”

when ajax came back, a solemn look was painted on his features as a sigh left his lips. “she said i’ve gotta pick up tonia from her friend’s place.. n’ she lives a while away.” another sigh. “sorry, man.”

“nah, it’s good. go get your sister:” scara says cooly, waving a hand dismissively. “do you mind if i stay here for a bit? don’t really wanna go home yet — y’know.”

childe simply nods, hands reaching for his car keys as he dashes out the door, and scaramouche can’t help but cheer internally.

finally, some alone time with his best friend’s dear little sister, you.

his steps are as heavy as his breath as he walks slowly up the stairs. it’s not long before’s he’s standing in front of the door to your bedroom, hands twitching as he reaches out for the doorknob.

but a soft, almost unnoticeable sound knocks him out of his thoughts. shuffling, and — a moan?

oh, ohh no. you can’t be doing this to him. are you really touching yourself when he’s around?!

he can’t mistake the sound of those breathy moans and mewls, or the squelching sound of what he guesses is your tiny little fingers pushing in and out of your cunt.

oh, how he wishes he could just kick this door down and pounce on you.

wait, what’s stopping him? it’s not like your brother’s home.

“s-scaramouche..”

that’s right, nothing stopped him when his hand pushes the door open, his body looking over your bed where you lay, whines spilling from your pretty lips with each movement of your fingers.

it’s a wonder you haven’t noticed him yet, he thinks, closing the door behind him and creeping over to you.

“what a naughty, naughty girl.” he chuckles, almost sinisterly at the sight of you.

your body jolts — both from shock and pleasure — as your eyes crack open and stare up at the man.

he leans down, gaze darting down to where you fingers are plugged in your pussy, and he can’t help but lick his lips in anticipation.

“hello, sweetheart.” he coos, a slim hand reaching to stroke your cheek. “you need help with that?”

you can only swallow down your spit and nod nervously at him, your cheeks hot with embarrassment.

if you were being honest, you were wishing for something like this to happen. but you didn’t expect it to really come true!

his hand wraps around your wrist and he pulls your fingers out of your pussy, smirking as you whine at the loss.

“don’t worry, don’t worry.” his other hand strokes your cheek. “just shhh.” he whispers, lips beside your ear as he leans down.

his hand removes itself from your wrist and moves to unbuckle his belt, letting his pants drop to the floor before pulling down his boxers.

his cock springs free, hard and leaking with pre. perfectly ready for him to bury in your warm walls.

you look up at him as he crawls onto you, straddling your hips as a hand slides down your your waist, his other guiding his dick to your hole.

soon enough, he was buried to the hilt in your pussy as his fingers dug into the flesh of your waist. he was quick to snap his hips, in and out, in and out, moaning at the feeling of you.

“s’good, s’good!” you mewl, back arching off the bed as his tip reaches further into you, kissing your cervix with each sloppy thrust.

a few more had you gushing around him, moaning lewdly. it was so hot. you’re so hot.

“look at you.” his warm breath fans across your neck, his dick pounding into you so perfectly. “you’re so filthy.”

you can only moan dumbly, creaming around your brother’s best friend’s cock as he hits just the right spot. it’s so dirty, so nasty — the words he mutters into your ear as he cums inside of you.

your mixed juices drips out of your cunt, spilling down your thighs as he abuses your pretty cunt.

“damnit.” he grunts, slamming back into you. his nails leave small, crescent shaped marks in the soft skin of your waist as he fucks you.

he’s fucking you, and he’s fucking you hard. dick hitting that spongy spot over and over, causing your eyes to roll into the back of your skull as drool pools at the corner of your lips.

“one more. come on, come on!” he insists, eyes trained on the way his cock slips in and out of your soaked pussy. he can’t decide if it’s beautiful or revolting. maybe it’s.. disgustingly gorgeous.

so perfect that it makes him sick.

then, he’s got you impaled on his length as he spills his seed into you, practically whining when he feels you cum around him.

he flips the two of you over so you’re on top of him, sat down on his cock and leaning onto him like a little fuck doll.

“aww, how adorable.” he whispers, a smirk on his lips as he leans closer and presses a kiss to the skin under your ear. “what would your brother think if he saw you like this?”

“mmh..” you can only manage to moan, grinding down against him as your eyes shut sleepily. “m tired..”

his hand strokes your lower back in gentle movements as his breathing lulls you to sleep.

“don’t worry, dirty girl. i won’t tell your brother.” he sings, voice uncharacteristically soft. “he’d kill me if he found out.” he snorts, pulling the blanket over the two of you as his other hand pats the back of your head.

“let’s stay like this, yeah?”

different ver with childe x sacra’s sister! reader coming soooonnn

[starkeyvhs]

kill bill

PAIRING: rafe cameron x dark!fem!kook!reader

SUMMARY: your ex-boyfriend has a new girlfriend, so you take matters in your own hands.

WORD COUNT: ~6k

WARNINGS: MAJOR DARK CONTENT WARNING! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! murder; blood; gore; reader is extremely possessive over rafe, gaslights him, short tempered, toxic, selfish, gets jealous very easily, physically unable to grieve, very very sick and twisted; they have an extremely toxic relationship; mentions of two ocs; suggestive content (absolutely no smut), reader likes to mark rafe; consumption of alcohol, hardcore drugs and cigarettes; minimal usage of nicknames like babe and baby; reader often exercises her ownership over rafe vocally; rafe chokes reader (but not so much she passes out), locks her in a room; minimal swearing; like one mention of y/n (I tried to avoid it as much as I could); detailed descriptions of a funeral; grieving; I always beta read my fics but if you find any minor grammatical/spelling error please ignore :) + let me know if you think I missed anything (I crossed checked everything twice)

EDITH SPEAKS: I hardcore believe we need more sick and twisted reader instead of the usual sweetheart one (nothing wrong with that, btw!) because it’s so much fun writing a complex female character. I had the time of my life writing this, and I hope you love reading this too <3 please please heed all warnings, this fic is really really dark, and I wouldn’t want anyone to be triggered by the content in any way (the warnings are there for a reason!) please reblog if you liked reading this, and feedback is always appreciated 🥀 massive thank you to my baes raye and zya who heard my brainrot for this fic all the damn time <3 (I love having fic writers besties 🥰)

masterlist / join my taglist / requests / moodboard from my old blog

It’s dark.

For some reason, it feels darker than usual.

Maybe because it’s a new moon, the indigo sky is completely devoid of the pale moonlight, which is usually the source of light at night.

Or maybe, the reason for it feeling darker isn’t literal.

Maybe it’s metaphorical.

Your gaze drops down to your hand, your gloved fingertips digging into the engravings on the handle of the knife, the tips of the nails settling between the grooves. The tip of your index finger is trapped in a curvy groove, your finger repetitively moving up and down, up and down, up and down through the curve.

You take a step back, the sound of the rubble crunching under your feet with a certain wetness echoes in the dark alleyway.

With your free hand, you lift up the hem of your dress, revealing the cover of the knife strapped to your upper thigh by a garter. The length of the dress hides the garter at all times, keeping it completely out of view. You slowly slide the knife back into its covering, letting it still in place, and allowing the dress to cover your thigh back again.

Your gaze begins to trail along your arm, the streaks of blood staining your skin red, matching the deep red of your dress. You flex your fingers under the single streak of street light entering the alleyway, illuminating the dried blood rubbed on your fingertips and knuckles.

Slowly, you let your eyesight travel down more and more, until you’re looking down at your feet.

Your feet stand in a dark pool of blood, almost seeming black in the darkness of the eerie alleyway. With the way only a single street light is responsible for the only light source, it almost seems like a scene from a black and white horror movie.

The metallic smell of blood fills up your nostrils entirely as you take another step back, gently kicking the foot in your way to the side.

“Oh poor Amber…” You mumble softly, taking a step closer to her face and bending down to her level, watching her soulless eyes gazing up at the bricked wall behind you. Her soft, pearly white slip satin dress is flushed with a deep burgundy, the slit through which your knife pierced her porcelain like skin is wide and open, right above her chest.

Your gloved fingertips trail over her cheekbone, so pale and so cold, as you feel the lifelessness under your skin. It’s almost pitiful if you think about it: the way poor Amber could’ve avoided all of this only if she knew to keep her hands off what you own.

She wouldn’t have to experience such a horrible end to her life, stabbed in a hidden alleyway, her dainty arms spread on her sides, her lifeless fingers grasping onto the last bit of memories of his touches, only if she knew better than to attempt to exercise her ownership over something clearly taken by you.

Oh well, you slowly get up from your crouched position, sparing a last glance at her body lying in the pool of her own blood.

Maybe it feels darker than usual because your own hands picked up a knife and drove it straight through the girl’s heart.

Do you regret it?

Absolutely the fuck not.

And why would you, if it means you get to have Rafe Cameron back again?

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

SEVEN MONTHS AGO

The strobe lights flash all around the otherwise dark party mansion, the bass of the loud music thumping in your eardrums. The party is as crowded as it can be, sweaty bodies rubbing up against each other tantalizingly on the dance floor, causing the all too familiar smell of sweat mixed in with weed, alcohol and what not to settle heavily in the building.

There’s so much happening around you, the dance floor if fully occupied, there’s a game of beer pong being played over-enthusiastically at one end, a corner table surrounded by mostly boys busy with their hardcore drugs at another end, the bar right behind you with all the alcohol you can ever need; yet your hardened gaze is fixed on Rafe, and the girl he’s having a conversation with a few feet away from you.

“I’ll be back in a moment, babe,” He had mumbled against your hair, giving your thigh a firm pat before leaving his place next to you at the bar counter. You were confused for a moment as to where he was going suddenly, but then you saw him approach a girl completely unknown to you, give her a hug and get involved in a conversation.

Now, over ten minutes have passed and he still hasn’t left her side. You can’t hear them talk due to the loud music, but you can watch them laugh, the conversation so engaging it’s like they both have forgotten a world outside them exists too.

Your hand resting on your thigh is beginning to press harder against your flesh, your fingers digging into your skin, causing a sharp pain to spread on your skin, but you do nothing to reduce it. Your jaw clenches tightly at the sight of Rafe and the girl, streaks of possessiveness flaring up in every nook and cranny of your soul.

But the moment the girl’s fingers reach out to nudge his arm, you know you have had more than enough.

In a swift movement, you get up from your occupied barstool and make your way over to Rafe.

As you approach Rafe, you reach your hand out for his arm, letting your fingers curl around his bicep to grab his attention. The girl talking to him suddenly stops speaking as she spots you right next to him, and the way your hand is around his arm, your fingers digging into his skin.

“Oh hey babe,” Rafe says, very discreetly trying to get you to loosen his grip on him by moving his arm subtly, but of course, you’re too busy glaring at the girl to even realize the borderline iron tight grip you have on his bicep.

Rafe senses the tension in you — it’s not hard to miss the way it’s oozing off you.

“Oh uh,” he clears his throat, gesturing to the girl. “This is Keely, she moved away two years ago but now she’s visiting the island for–”

“Yeah I don’t care,” you swiftly cut him off, giving his arm a sharp tug and dragging him away from Keely. Before Rafe can even say anything to Keely, you are tugging him away from the crowd, away from the party, leading him up the stairs of the party mansion.

“Where… babe what are you doing?” Rafe asks, his tone incredulous as he tries his best to pry your hands off his arm, but your grip only seems to be getting tighter by the second. He can catch a glimpse of his arm, and the way his skin has started to pinken under your bruising grip.

You don’t say anything, just lead him up the stairs silently. You reach the hallway on the second floor, and the first door you open is an empty bedroom. You push Rafe inside and close the door behind you two, locking it.

“Babe what are you–” Rafe tries to speak, but with another nudge to his shoulders the back of his legs stumble against the edge of the bed and he flops on his back onto the mattress.

You are quick to follow as you get on top of him and sit in his lap, straddling his waist. You look down at him, your palms laying flat against his chest.

Without any words, you dip down and capture his lips in a searing kiss, your lips moving with a fiery fervor against his. Rafe doesn’t even have a moment to process what’s going on, but his body naturally responds to you, his hands coming to grip onto your hips and squeezing them tightly.

“Fuck baby…” he murmurs hoarsely as your lips leave his to trail over his jawline and finding the side of his neck. A sharp gasp escapes his mouth as your teeth suddenly sink into his flesh, your tongue running over the mark to soothe the burning sensation.

Instinctively, Rafe’s grip tightens on your hips, his eyes squeezing close. Your movements are unrelentless, your teeth biting down into whatever patch of skin of his neck you can succumb onto, your tongue running over the marks, and your lips sucking on the skin.

“You’re mine you hear me?” Comes out your voice in a whisper against his skin as you begin to travel over to the other side of his neck, not stopping for even a second to give him a break.

“Yeah yeah I’m yours I’m–” another sharp gasp leaves his lips as your lips find a particularly sensitive spot on his neck right above his pulse point and suck on it. He can feel the bruises beginning to form, bruises so deep he knows they won’t fade soon.

He knows you like to leave marks on him. Since you and him started dating, he was often seen with a bruise or two on the side of his neck, or peeking from under the collar of his shirt on his collarbone. They were always small, and never too dark.

But today? Today he feels you aren’t doing to let a single inch of his skin bare from your marks.

One of your hands slips into his hair and you pull his head back, baring his slender throat to you. You lean down and press your lips to his throat, kissing and sucking on the skin the same way you did to the sides of his neck.

Rafe’s blunt fingertips begin to dig into your hips, his lips parted as heavy exhales escape him.

“Is… is this about Keely?” He breathes, feeling your fingers slightly tighten in his hair, causing him to let out a barely audible whine.

“What if it is?” You mumble against his skin, biting down on his throat which elicits a sharp gasp from him. He writhes a little under you, as if trying to escape you, but you let your full weight fall on Rafe’s waist, making it impossible for him to move.

“Baby she’s…” he pants. “She’s just an old friend… nothing else…”

Your hand on his chest reaches for the top button of his shirt and your fingers pop it open, revealing more skin to you. Your mouth is quick to follow suit, your lips attacking the newly visible skin.

“She needs to know you’re mine,” you mutter against his skin, your voice lowering an octave. “Who the fuck–” you bite down on the skin right under the hollow of his throat, emphasizing your words, causing Rafe’s upper body to buck up involuntarily, “–does she think she is huh? Touching my man that way?”

“T…touching…?” Rafe breathes. “She didn’t… she never touched me–”

“She did,” Your voice is sharp, leaving no room for any argument. Your mouth goes back to its work, your fingers popping the second button open to bare you more skin of his to mark.

“You’re mine, Rafe,” you mutter against his skin, “always.”

Rafe’s breathing speeds up more — if that’s even possible, as he feels the next buttons of his shirt getting unbuttoned too.

“Say it,” comes out your voice, sharp and low. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m–” he breathes, “I’m all yours baby, all yours… always and forever…”

You let your lips curl up into a faint smirk, the movements of your mouth slightly slowing down as you only kiss along the skin of his chest. At the slowing of your pace, Rafe’s fingers begin to loosen their grip on your hips, his short bursts of breathing slowly coming under control.

You slowly lift your head up and sit up in his lap, your fingers slipping out of his hair. You gently trace your fingertips over the sides of his neck, feeling the red, swollen bruises forming on his skin, which you know will only become more pronounced as the time passes. Your fingertips trail down to his chest, feeling the indents in his skin from the bruises and the bite marks. Something about feeling the bruises on his neck and not just seeing them begins to calm down the stoking fire of possessiveness on you.

It’s like you’ve branded him as yours.

“You look so perfect like this baby…” You coo softly, the gentle tracing of your fingertips a sharp contrast to just a few seconds ago when your teeth were on the verge of breaking through his skin. “So beautiful, so perfect, so mine…”

Rafe watches you through half hooded eyes, his breath only beginning to come under his control. He can feel his chest heaving from his heavy breathing and your touch over it, a sharp tingling sensation spreading over his skin wherever your mouth had been.

He can see it; the look of satisfaction in your eyes as if you’ve won a big prize. Your eyes rake over him, taking in all the bruises that stand out against his light skin.

“This… this should be enough to show her that you aren’t up for grabs,” you mumble to yourself quietly, still tracing over the marks and bruises over him.

Rafe shudders under the feeling of your fingertips tracing over his bruises, the skin reddened and getting more and more sensitive with each touch and nip of the air.

“You haven’t got anything to worry about baby…” he says slowly, almost cautiously. “I belong to you, forever,”

Your piercing eyes find his, the eye contact so strong it sends a chill down his spine.

“Yeah, yeah you are,” you mumble softly, before leaning down to let your lips connect to his skin again.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

FIVE MONTHS AGO

Rafe stands next to the dining table with Wheezie and Sarah as Ward and Rose greet their guests for the night, their noises of greetings and laughter floating over to the three siblings in the dining room. The noise of their chatter only increases as the group approaches the dining table, spotting the three Cameron kids waiting for them.

Next to Ward and Rose are Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence, with their daughter Amber. Ward and Mr. Lawrence are the bestest of friends; business wise and casual wise. Their businesses work hand in hand, and their families meet often for dinners and night outs.

Rose politely guides everyone to the dining table and everyone takes a seat, Amber’s seat being right next to Rafe’s.

“Hey Rafe,” she smiles, adjusting in her seat as she takes her purse off and hangs it on the back of her chair.

“Hey,” he says back, his voice quiet as he watches the food being served on the table.

He can feel Amber’s gaze on him; he has always had a hunch that she likes him with the way she looks away with a subtle blush on her cheeks when he catches her staring. Or with how she’s always talking so sweetly to him.

Or maybe his hunch is wrong.

Just like he’s the Kook prince, she’s the Kook princess. She’s known for being an absolute sweetheart, kind to anyone and everyone she meets. Even though she already has millions attached to her name, she’s volunteering at elderly homes, soup kitchens, beach clean ups and what not. She donates to charities whenever she can, and always sponsored them back in their days at the Kook Academy.

Rafe is quiet as the food is served, his plate kept in front of him. Everyone on the table is immersed in chatter, Amber distracted by Sarah and Wheezie, but he’s silent.

He takes small bites of the chicken he’s served, nibbling on the end of his fork as his mind goes to you, and the horrible, horrible fight you both had.

“It’s getting out of hand, y/n! You’re always on my heels, never letting me breathe!” Rafe snaps, trying to create as much distance between you and him.

Your eyes widen, an almost crazy look in them as you walk closer to him. “‘never letting me breathe’ is that so? I care about you Rafe! I love you!” You retort, attempting to reach out for his hand but he pulls back before you can touch him in any sort of way.

Your touch doesn’t feel loving, it feels like a burn to his skin.

“If you loved me, you would believe me that I was out with my friends, not with some girls! You think any girl will approach me when I’ve got these–” he frantically gestures to the marks all over his neck, “–all over my neck? Huh?”

“I leave those marks cause you’re mine!” Your voice comes out as strong, sharp yells now, echoing in the hallway of your house.

“Stop- stop saying that shit! I’m not yours! I don’t want to be yours anymore! You don’t fucking own me!” Rafe spits.

Now, he shouldn’t have said that.

You take another step closer to him, causing his back to hit against a door of a room in the hallway, completely caged by the door behind him and you in front of him.

He can see the look on your face, the way your eye is almost twitching, the way you let out soft pants; he has pissed you off.

“Yes I do,” your voice comes out low, and cold. “Yes, I own you, always and forever.”

“No you don’t!” Rafe snaps back. One of his hands reaches back for the door knob, his fingers curling around the cool metal. “I’m done with this shit! I’m done with you!”

You inch even closer to him, your chest almost touching his, leaving barely any space between you two.

“You think you can let me go this easily, huh?” You sneer, looking him dead in the eye.

Rafe’s hand on the door knob only tightens further, his knuckles almost turning white in the process. He��s done with this, he’s done being controlled by you, done letting you exercise ownership over him, and he’s done being in this loveless relationship.

In a swift movement, Rafe’s free hand comes to wrap around your throat, causing your eyes to widen and your lips to part, a choked gasp escaping you. Your hands reach for his fingers gripping your throat so harshly, feebly attempting to pry his fingers off. But his hold is strong, so strong.

You feel the amount of air in your lungs lessening with each passing second, your movements becoming weaker as the moments pass. You try to speak, anything, try to kick him off, but your body is just getting weaker.

Your tear rimmed eyes meet Rafe’s, whose own cheeks begin to streak with the tears that start to fall down. They aren’t tears of sadness, they’re tears of frustration, because he’s done with this shit.

“I’m done with you, you hear me?” He mutters through his tears, his voice frustrated and shaky. “Done with this entire thing.”

You try to fight back, to argue, to do anything, but nothing works. Rafe’s hand on the door knob pulls the knob down, opening the door. It reveals the store room, and in a single movement, he pushes you inside, a choked gasp leaving you, and he quickly shuts the door and turns the lock.

“Open the fucking door!” Come out your muffled yells from inside, and he can hear you sputtering, trying to catch your breath after being at a loss of it for the past minute.

Your hands bang against the wooden door, the sound loud in the empty hallway.

Rafe steps back from the door, hearing the loud banging on the door, the sound thumping in his ears along with his loud heartbeat.

For a moment, it seems like everything goes silent except the loud banging in his ear, pulsating throughout every nerve in his brain.

This is the first time he ever did anything to defy you, defy your so-called “love” for him.

And god, does he feel… good. Strong. He never knew he would be able to stand up against you. But now, he has you locked in the store room of your own home.

It feels exhilarating.

“Open the fucking door Rafe!” Your voice comes from inside the store room again, zapping Rafe out of his thoughts. He swallows harshly, his arms frozen on his sides as he slowly takes another step back.

With the way you’re banging at the door and are yelling, he can tell you’re getting impatient.

But he’s not going to do anything about it.

He’s done getting pushed around by you.

Taking another step back, he begins to back out of the hallway, ignoring your constant muffled yelling and banging at the door. He can hear you rattling the lock, desperately trying to escape the store room.

He tries his best to push away the sounds of you and your attempts to escape out of his mind as he takes shaky steps back from the hallway, slowly and slowly inching away from you. He takes a deep breath, and finally, turns around, his back to the store room, and he makes his way out of the hallway, approaching the main door of your home.

Without thinking twice, he opens the door and steps out, letting the door slam shut behind him, his mind pushing away the distant voice of yours yelling at him to open the door.

“Rafe? Rafe are you okay?”

Rafe snaps out of his thoughts and looks up from his plate to his side, seeing Amber gently shaking his shoulder. He looks back down to his plate and see he barely ate any of it, just nibbled on the piece of chicken, the veggies lying untouched.

“Uh,” he clears his throat, gently moving his shoulder which causes Amber’s hand to fall back to her side. “Yeah yeah I’m good uh… excuse me,” he politely excuses himself and gets up from his chair, leaving the dining table. Sarah and Wheezie glance at him with concern, but Rose and Ward don’t really seem to give this matter much light.

Amber watches Rafe leave the dining room, adjusting his turtle neck once as he makes his way out to the balcony, closing the wooden door behind himself.

Her eyes remain fixed on the path which Rafe had just followed, every cell of her body itching to follow him.

Just a few seconds later, she excuses herself from the table too and makes her way to the closed door of the balcony.

As the door opens and she steps out, Rafe diverts his attention to the door, a cigarette smoking away in his hand.

“Hey,” Amber says softly, giving him a gentle smile as she lets the door knob slip from her hand, the door closing with a gentle click. She makes her way over to Rafe, standing next to him in front of the balcony railing, her eyes fixing on the cigarette slotted between his fingers.

“Hey,” Rafe says back looking back out at the view from the balcony. His free hand comes to sneak under the turtle neck, scratching the side of his neck. “God this is itchy,” he mumbles under his breath, slightly frustrated.

“It’s too hot for a turtle neck anyway,” Amber says, her brows furrowed. “It must be irritating your skin,”

“Yeah,” Rafe mutters, taking a deep drag of his cigarette and letting out a plume of smoke. He knows better than to take the turtle neck off though, the thought of revealing the dark bruises left by you causes a small shudder to go down his spine — knowing Amber will be extremely concerned and will press on the matter.

Even then, his fingers reach out to itch under the turtle neck again, the material really irritating his skin. He pushes the fabric aside to grant him more skin to itch, but just as he does that, Amber catches the sight of the bruises marked on his skin; and these ones just so happen to be the darkest ones he has.

“Oh my god,” her soft voice comes out laced with concern as she steps closer to him, her fingers wanting to reach out to soothe his skin with her gentle touch. “What happened are you okay? That looks really bad,”

Rafe looks down at her, her frame almost comically smaller than his. He can see the concern etched on her face, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips downturned in a frown.

“I’m… I’m fine,” he mutters, focusing back out at the view from the balcony, taking another hit of his cigarette.

“Are you sure? Cause that looks really bad Rafe,” she murmurs, gently placing a hand on his arm, looking up at him.

The moment she touches her arm, he tenses for a fraction of second, but then immediately relaxes. There is something about her touch that you don’t have; that tenderness and the warmth that has always been missing from your touch. And her voice, it’s gentle. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you talk to him in such a gentle voice.

“Did someone beat you up?” She asks, her voice soft.

Beat him up? Oh, he wishes.

His mind goes back to you, the way he locked you in the store room. He knows there’s a window in the room, and knowing you, he also knows you definitely escaped from that window.

“No, someone didn’t beat me up,” He says back, his voice losing any edge it may have, taking a completely tender tone. There’s something so soothing about the way she’s talking to him, and it just makes him want to open up to him about anything and everything.

“Someone didn’t beat you up? Then how did you get them?” She asks. God, he thinks. Her concern, her gentleness, her touch… He’s losing himself in it, a little too quickly.

Maybe it’s because he’s been deprived of this gentleness for way too long.

“You won’t believe me if I told you the answer,” he says, his gaze looking down at her to meet her eyes.

“You’re concerning me Rafe, really,” she mutters, her fingers still wrapped around his arm. And Rafe doesn’t want her to let go.

He takes another drag of the cigarette, letting the smoke roll off his lips.

“It’s my girlfriend– but, but I ended things with her today,” he mutters.

He gauges her reaction; her widened eyes, her lips parting twice to say something but no words coming out.

She knows about his girlfriend, well, everyone does, but he didn’t know about this.

“She did this to you?” Amber mutters incredulously. “That’s… that’s kind of crazy,”

“Kind of?” Rafe says amusedly. “It’s very crazy. I was…” he takes a deep breath, looking up from her and back out at the scenery. “I was suffocated with her. I was never able to express myself. She was extremely possessive, always wanting to… mark me as hers a certain way. It was hard to leave her but I did it, I finally did it today,”

Amber’s facial expressions contort to one of slightly relaxed, though the concern is still evident.

“Wow,” she mutters. “I’m very glad you were able to break things off with her, you don’t deserve to be treated this way Rafe, no one does,”

He turns back down to look at her, his eyes sinking into hers. They’re so warm and beautiful, a kind blue just like his. There’s gentleness in her words and the way she’s still holding onto his arm.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, “that… that means a lot to me you know? I’m… I’m just glad I was able to escape her,”

“Yeah,” she says softly, her fingers rubbing small circles on his forearm. It seems more or less like an instinctive movement, as if this is how she always likes to soothe someone.

And damn, is he starved for some gentle loving just like this.

A silence falls over them, Rafe’s eyes not flickering away from hers. She’s looking up at him, her doe eyes wide but extremely comforting, her gentle rubbing on his arm relaxing him to an infinite extent.

As if a gravitation pull exerts it’s force on him, he finds himself leaning closer to her, his eyes now training down over her lips. They’re so soft looking, so full, and he has a very strong urge to taste them.

Amber doesn’t pull back, she’s watching him lean closer, her own body reacting and leaning closer to him. Midway, Rafe’s lips are just a hair’s breadth from hers, and he takes the leap, pressing his lips to hers.

For a moment, no one moves, their lips joined in a gentle press. But then, Amber takes the initiative, gently moving her lips against his.

Rafe responds, his hand which isn’t holding the cigarette coming to gently cup her cheek, his thumb stroking the skin. Her hands reach up to wrap around his neck, the kiss soft, slow and incredibly tender.

Rafe gently pulls back, creating just the slightest distance between him and her. He rests his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he soaks in the moment.

No words are exchanged between them, but he knows they both feel a mutual understanding.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

PRESENT

The rain begins to pour down harder, the drops of water on the grassy lawn gleaming under the occasional strike of lightning. Black umbrellas matching the black outfits are put up by almost everyone, covering everyone’s head by the shelter.

Except one.

Rafe is on his knees right next to the coffin, his fingers gripping the edge of it so tightly his knuckles are beginning to turn white. His head bows down to rest on the edge in between his hands, quiet sobs erupting out of his throat. The raindrops trail over his clothes, making him sopping wet, but he doesn’t care – even when he’s been politely asked to get under an umbrella to cover himself.

Everyone knew well about Rafe’s and Amber’s relationship. God, they loved them. Rafe, the Kook prince, and Amber, the Kook princess. Their fathers; bestest of friends. It’s like people could imagine them getting married even when they weren’t of age. The children of the most powerful men of Outer Banks were meant to take over the island together.

But the dreams were shattered like frail glass when Amber’s death was announced. And it wasn’t some untimely death — it was a murder. A clear gash was present at her chest right where she was stabbed.

Police investigations were started, Rafe paid an incessant amount of money to get the best of detectives on the case, but the murderer was good.

Too damn good.

The murderer didn’t leave a single trace of their presence. They were sharp and quick. It was just a flash of lightning, and the knife was driven in Amber’s chest, and she was declared dead.

The investigations started months ago, and even now, any path they take to find out about the murderer is a dead end.

Almost the entire Figure 8 is invited to the funeral; including you.

You stand at the very end of the crowd, black clothes on your body and a black umbrella over your head, protecting you from the rain.

Your eyes scan over the procession, watching the funeral ceremony taking place in the burial ground where Amber’s coffin is meant to be buried. You can hear the quiet sobs from the front, from Amber’s family, her siblings and cousins, her friends, and from Rafe.

Your gaze zeroes on him as a man begins to gently pull Rafe up from his knees and to get him away from the coffin, because it’s time to take the coffin away for the burial. You see Rafe protesting, his hands reaching out to catch a glimpse of Amber; it doesn’t matter if it’s her coffin. He just wants to feel her, one last time, before she leaves his life completely.

His sobs get louder, dry screams erupting from his throat as the coffin gets carried away. Amber’s mother carefully approaches him and takes him in her arms, her own eyes squeezed tightly shut as tears stream down her cheeks.

As time passes, everyone begins to disperse the burial ground, even Amber’s family, except for Rafe. Her family gently pleads with him to leave too, but he refuses. ‘Just five more minutes’ is what he mumbles in his voice hoarse from all his sobbing to Amber’s mother, who squeezes his hand in return and lets him stay.

And now, everyone has left, but you’re still standing in the same position, watching Rafe, who’s sitting on the wet grass, the rain which is now reduced to a drizzle still showering over him.

You carefully make your way over to him and get down on your knees next to him, letting your umbrella cover him too.

He looks up when he realizes he’s not feeling the raindrops fall on him anymore, his teary eyes finding yours. Completely drowned in the whirlpool of his emotions, he didn’t realize you are still there.

It’s silent for a few moments as Rafe sits with him hugging his knees close to his chest, his head resting on them. You sit next to him, making sure to keep him protected from the rain.

“Rafe…” you murmur after a few more moments of utter silence pass over you both. You gently place a hand on his shoulder, and he looks up at you — his bloodshot eyes drooping from tiredness.

Another moment of silence passes by, the space around you filled only with the sound of the raindrops pattering on your umbrella. The rain seems to slow down even more, the gloomy clouds beginning to light up.

You can see Rafe’s facade beginning to crumble, his need to be comforted washing over the need to be alone and away from you, and ever so slowly, he leans closer to you, resting his head on your shoulder.

You let your free arm quickly wrap around his shoulders and you pull him closer, your hand rubbing over his back.

The sobs he had started to bury inside himself start sputtering out, his body squeezing closer to you, every fiber of his being craving comfort as he buries his face in his neck and lets himself go, his tears falling against the skin of your neck.

“Shhh Rafe you’re okay, I’m here, I’m here for you,” you mumble softly in his ear. His hands come to wrap around your frame tightly, as if you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

You finally have him in your arms again, the only arms he should ever be in, the only arms that should be comforting him, the only arms that should ever hold him.

You lean down and press a soft kiss to his forehead to comfort him more as you repeat soft words to soothe him as much as you can. When Rafe makes no move to pull himself away from you, you slightly tighten your hold around his shoulders and pull him closer to you.

You let him hold you however he desires, and cry how much he wants.

As you keep on rubbing your hand over his back to soothe him, your gaze looks out at the stretch of the burial ground, your eyes following the path along which Amber’s coffin was carried.

You take in a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you let the reality of the situation settle in you.

Amber’s out of Rafe’s life, and he is back where he belongs.

A small satisfied smile quirks the corners of your lips all the while Rafe’s face remains tucked in the crook of your neck, his hands holding onto you as if you’re his last lifeline.

Game over, Amber.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

taglist: @oxpogues4lifexo / @rafedrewandjjs

specific tags for this fic: @ietss / @mileyraes / @ilyrafe / @runningfrom2am / @congratsloserr

@ladyinbl00d / @zyafics / @karmasloverrr / @rafesgiirl

[kozachenko]

Here's a digital sketch dump of some pose/anatomy practices and some 2hu doodles, I think from now on if I don't have any big final piece to post, I'll just post sketches I liked that I did digitally (might also reblog some drawings of mine that I want more people to see, maybe idk).

Artist's Notes:

Ok so after the recent Hifuu fanart I did, I've been hoping to experiment more with how I draw faces, how I render, as well as how I stylize things. In some of the earlier sketches I did, I had an idea for a pose that I wanted to try drawing, so I took a ref pic of myself doing said pose (the leaning one btw) and then did a sketch over top of it just to get an idea for the shapes, negative space, and silhouette. After that, I wanted to do some simpler breakdowns of the shapes so I can get better at simplifying the body (these ended up being the bottom right sketches in the post). I also did some experimenting with how to push certain parts of said sketches to create a different body type (via liquify and then a more refined version based on that sketch), as well as figuring out what makes a pose feel natural and not stiff. This was also a bit of a foreshortening practice just so I can get more confident with it, and I ended up using the arms from the liquified version for the coloured Zanmu sketch I did since I liked them so much (dw I'll get to that).

The next thing I wanted to try and draw was Hisami, mainly because.... I am very bad at drawing her in my style. Last time I drew her I made her look really creepy and spindly, and it is my headcanon now that she can switch between a more human, and more creepy look whenever she wants. I'm liking where the face is going a lot, might have to refine a few things about it in the future, but it's cute (I also made the blush purple which I think is what I'm gonna do with her face from now on). I also like how her hair in the sketch turned out a lot, but the outfit..... not as much... Ever since I started changing my style to something less cartoony, I've had a hard time drawing her outfit in my style. Especially the flower veil thing she has on, which, I did try to find a way to draw, but I ended up deleting that sketch because I didn't like it. I'm also not a fan of using the colour purple, like, pure purple, magentas are fine, indigos are fine, but not strict purple. I also have a hard time with drawing all the little pattern details on her dress. I also need to find a way to draw the flower veil in a way that looks good because everytime I try it ends up just looking off (very similar to whenever I try to draw Zanmu's blue spears). I think the only solution to this problem is to do what I normally do and make my own version of the outfit, but with adjustments to suit my style while still trying to keep core elements from the original design intact (like I do with Zanmu and Keiki, and yes I am going to get to that Zanmu drawing just gimme a minute).

Ok next up is Keiki, my favourite Touhou character who I haven't drawn since the beginning of the year. Since my style has changed a lot, I wanted to just do a face sketch of her to get a hang of drawing her again, and I..... really really like how it turned out! When I drew her eyes, I realized that a good way of keeping faces too same facey can be via varying the sizes of their pupils, so that's an idea I'm gonna keep in mind from now on. I had a lot of fun with her hair, I initially was gonna do it like how it is in the official art, but I ended up not liking it, so now I'm gonna draw Keiki with wavy heir like this because it's fun and it looks nice. I also included my base sketch for Keiki's face since I was initially struggling with drawing her bandanna, and in the coloured sketch I added some more detail into her hair.

Now to finally talk about the sketches for Zanmu. Good lord was I having a tough time with her face. I also did this sketch before I figured out how I wanted to draw hair, so that's why the rendering on her hair is different (I did this soon after the Hisami sketch actually). Since I changed my art style a lot, I had to find a way to translate her face from my more cartoony style to my more detailed style, so while the face shape, nose shape and mouth was fine, I was really struggling with the eyes. I did get somewhere eventually though, and I am super happy with how it turned out. I wanted to lean more towards the androgynous side of the gender presentation spectrum, mainly because I think that makes sense for her character. Also made sure to include the silver hairs and some wrinkles just to bring some signs of her aging into her face because those are just staple features of how I draw Zanmu at this point lol. You will also notice that I gave her some scars on the right side of her face, and that's because I am a Zanmu-with-scars truther, I fucking love it whenever I see someone give Zanmu visible scars like that it just adds so much omg (I also tried to put a wolf bite mark on her arm in the full body drawing but idk if it reads well). While you can argue that her not having scars sells the idea of her being this "powerful, untouchable mastermind who is impossible to defeat," I'd say that instead of those scars representing times she got injured, they represent everyone who has failed to defeat her.

As I was drawing Zanmu's face, I referenced my sketch of to help with contrasting their features since I made Keiki's face more traditionally feminine. I also didn't mention this in my commentary on Keiki's face because I wanted to save it for here, but giving Zanmu scars also plays into the fact that she used to be human, wheras Keiki doesn't have any scars because she's a god who doesn't follow the rules of normal human biology. Plus I'm thinking about the two of them interacting again (return of Zan/Keik??? (I'm a multishipper btw) maybe???) so drawing their faces together will definitely help me in the future if I wanna draw them together (again, maybe as a ship? I've kinda been ironing out the kinks in their potential interactions (romantic and non-romantic) for a while now so idk maybe expect that in the future lol).

And now for the full body drawing, when I was doing the face sketch I did this little snippet of an outfit, had a vision, and the made it into a reality. I'll admit, part of me was worried that it would end up looking too much like Yuugi's outfits in the spinoffs and mangas, but I feel like I made enough changes to differentiate them. I tried to keep a few of the major details in Zanmu's design (i.e. the red tassles and yellow lining on her shirt) while putting a new spin on it. I also dialed up the scars to 11 since without them the whole thing kinda looked incomplete. Also, while I could say that the leaves on her kimono are "a nod to the fact that technically she should be a tengu because back then people belived that corrupt monks would turn into tengu but no Zanmu is an oni and they're maple leaves because...tengu...ahahahaha" what really ended up happening was that I looked up clothing patterns from Sengoku era Japan, liked the leaves the most because the red picked up on the red from the rest of her design and just ran with it. I also always had the idea to put Zanmu in men's clothing from Sengoku era Japan and while the accurate thing to do would be to put her in a Buddhist's clothes from that era.... from a character standpoint, I don't think Zanmu is pious enough to strictly wear the proper monk uniform, and also since she's basically the king of Hell, she would probably dress herself like royalty from that era. TBH, I probably could've been a bit more historically accurate, but again, this was mainly for conceptual purposes because I had a vision and I needed to see it through.

If I were to draw her in this sort of outfit again, I should probably try and use more references, although now that I look at it, if she were to wear it properly this would maybe, probably look a bit closer to a Kyūtai sugata (a very huge stretch, but it just kinda reminds me of that) just without the layers under and over the main piece of clothing (In the website that I searched up to try and compare the outfit in my sketch to, they name the outfit pieces but don't label them on the image, so I don't know 100% what everything is called) so I will definitely have to use that style of clothing as a reference going forward.

Also, I was kind of inspired by the ToTK design for Ganondorf since I have finished the game a while ago and I absolutely love what they did with his design (it's just so fucking cool omg) and I thought that sort of look would look good on Zanmu, so yeah got some inspo from that.

And those were all the notes for each of the sketches, I'm motivated to draw rn but kinda art blocked, so doing these little coloured sketches helps a lot.

[colorfuldragons]

dungeon meshi characters, but as flight rising dragons

𝟣. laios touden: beige/antique/antique

2. marcille donato: caribbean/flaxen/ruby

3. chilchuck tims: auburn/camo/beige

4. senshi of izganda: coal/oilslick/latte

5. izutsumi: obsidian/obsidian/white

6. falin touden: iris/antique/antique

spoiler scry + design notes under the read-more:

7. falin (chimera): vermillion/antique/antique

———————

i had been meaning to scry/post the dungeon meshi main cast for a while. i figured in honor of the manga's final chapter would be a good occasion

design notes:

𝟣. laios touden:

outfit inspired by fr user Rafale's laios fandragon

ravenskull broadsword bc it has wings like his sword

tundra + antique secondary/tert, like falin (siblings)

2. marcille donato:

ruby runes to represent: her magic, her red hair bow, bloody hands when she was resurrecting falin

will o' the ember for her explosion spells

iridescent primary for her elven heritage + penchant of fancy things

3. chilchuck tims:

veined tert to represent his greying hairs

i debated between the gambeson (closer texture) VS tanned rogue vest (overall closer colors) for him, but ended up going for the gambeson as it feels more distinct

camo secondary for a "camo = stealthy" joke

[edit: 1 feb 2024] i think my screen had the Flux settings too high before and i thought his shirt was beige. its actually white, so i changed his shirt from a shabby to classy dress shirt.

4. senshi of izganda:

bamboo dried tea to represent his cooking supplies

unfortunately none of the helm apparel had the right colors for his helmet, so i opted for tan okapi to represent his helm's horn colors

i wanted to include the iron shield apparel for his adamantine shield/pot, but it wouldve covered up his kilt, so i left it out

[edit: 1 feb 2024] changed primary from ribbon to chrysocolla, an earthy gene to match his past as a miner. changed tert color slightly to match better. also gave him carrots

5. izutsumi:

initially i tried nocturne and spiral, but the armour pieces looked too short on them, so i ended up going for mirror instead

i also tried the tanned rogue apparels, but they covered up too much of the torso

wooly antennae for her ears

6. falin touden:

marshlurker's drape to represent her coat, bc there wasnt a lot of suitable coats, and the more purple-y hue (and hat) also references her debut outfit

sparkle tert to represent her magic

tundra + antique secondary/tert, like laios (siblings)

[edit: 1 feb 2024] edited her primary to be more purplish, since the animes confirmed her coat is supposed to be more indigo colored, and gave her browner boots. also edited her reference photo coat color to match it too

7. falin (chimera):

i chose to make the touden siblings both tundras, so that chimera falin could be a gaoler (based on the joke gaolers are just tundra 2.0)

spirit secondary bc she haunts the narrative

if youve made it to here, feel free to comment which fandragon scry is your fav! :)

[submissive-wifey]

𝙏𝙤 𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙈𝙚 Stop Crying Ft. Husband Scaramouche

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Warning ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

ᰔ afab! reader ᰔ mentioned of both female and male reproductive system ᰔ overthinking ᰔ implied cheating ᰔ implied non con ᰔ nsfw! under the cut

So, I am currently having a mix feelings since before and a hundreds of negative thoughts was crossing on my mind about what if my husband don't love me anymore, what if he got tired of me or he find me just a bother? I know that he's busy since he is the 6th Harbinger of the 11th Fatui but I couldn't help but to think such things.

Maybe, what if he is already having a love affair? What if there is another woman..?

Those thoughts made me feel like I was stabbed straight to my heart and I decided to go to his office to check him out if he's doing alright.

I knocked on the door softly and heared unfamiliar feminine voice, my heart skips a beat before opening the door and saw him sitting on his chair with another girl standing in front of his table wearing a very short skirt.

"What do you want?" He said with his husky voice in annoyance. I gulped in nervousness since my heart skipping every other beat but I still keep my cool because of that girl, she had a face as pale as porcelain and looked like a ghost except for her light short green hair and her hazel eyes which seemed to bore into my soul and gave me the creeps with how cold they were while she stood in front of him with a frown on her disgusting lips. She glared at me as if she has some beef with me and I don't even know her, but why is she in my husband's office?

A thought suddenly strikes me about my overthinking that what if I'm right? What if he was actually having a love affair with a seductress?

I mean, she looks like a whore.

My brain helpfully supplied and I shook away these thoughts. No one's sleeping with my man. It wasn't like he was a virgin. That girl probably just wanted some sex with his money. But that didn't mean she should be here. Her presence alone makes me feel so uneasy.

"I just wanted to check if you're doing alright since we've barely see each other." I replied softly with a fake smile on my lips, I felt a bit guilty that I couldn't get my hands off of my dress. I felt like such a fool for thinking my husband would cheat on me and I was trying to act nonchalant about it and keep up appearances when I really wanted to cry right then and there. I had this horrible feeling that my husband cheated on me by being with another woman while I sat at home and waited for him like an idiot.

"You do know that I'm busy, Y/N" He inhaled deeply and crossed his arms as leaned against his chair, he looked like he wants to say something but stopped himself before saying anything."Yes, I know you have a lot of work, I can see it from your office." I said looking around and saw that there was a disorganized documents on his table and some papers scattered on the floor.

"So, I wanted to talk to you about-" "No" He cut off my words abruptly. His face had a stern expression and his indigo eyes with a bold red eyeliner glistened as they focused on mine, but there was something about them that sent chills down my spine. I felt like his eyes were staring straight into my soul and could read my every little feeling. They also held an unknown emotion and I was unsure of what was going through his mind at that moment.

"No?" I repeated. He took in another deep breath, exhaling slowly and let out another sigh before leaning forward with both arms resting on the surface of his desk. He stared at my chest which he knew by now that I wore a simple tight black dress that showed my toned legs with a v neck which reveals my cleavage, but I didn't wear any shoes. He was still gazing into my eyes intently as he spoke again,"I said no."

"But you didn't-" He cut me off again, "Y/N, I am busy. I told you already that I don't have enough time to spend with you lately.""Why not?" I questioned curiously. I know I shouldn't ask those questions, but his stare made it hard for me to control myself,"Because you are an absolute nuisance. You keep spitting unnecessary things." "That's impossible. You always tell me whenever I have a question. Now, answer me this, is my husband cheating on me?"

I heared my heart pounding loudly in my ears when I ask him my question and gripping on my dress to ease the emotion I felt. He then grit his teeth as he close his eyes in irritation before turning his gaze back to me. "GET OUT!" He shouted as if he's commanding me to get out of the office. He then pointed at the door with anger shining in his indigo eyes. I felt like crying. But instead of letting tears come out, I just ran out of his office.

My heart couldn't accept what he said to me and I immedietly stormed straight to my room and lock the door as my tears started flowing.

I threw myself on the bed and burried my face on the pillows to minimize my sobs.

And at the present moment, I continued sobbing for the past 2 hours. Hoping he is not cheating on me with that girl, wishing he would remain faithful to me but he is sophisticated and attractive man that would eventually the ladies will try to seduce him.

I only wished him to cuddle with me but then he shut me out with his hurful statement.

I hug my pillow tightly as my heart continue to bawl out. I never knew that such things existed but I was too dumbfounded and scared to ask about them. He was a professional person who rarely gets involved with the women's industry because of his integrity. He wouldn't cheat on me right? I asked myself that. Maybe he was just jealous that other women got ahead of him but why didn't he confide in me?

And suddenly, I heard a knock on my door. I didn't respond to it and hoping that person who is knocking on my door will leave since I am currently crying. The knocking continued to grow louder as the moment continued to pass by, but I choose not to pay attention to it.

I sense my door opened and a footsteps echoed inside my bedchamber. The empty space of the bed dips with the heavy weight that I assume belongs to my husband. I didn't bother to look at him but remained burrying my face on the soaked pillow. The mattress sinks in the place where my husband should rest his head.

"I didn't mean to shout at you.." He whispered softly with his husky voice, he sat beside me and he wrap his arm around my waist and kissed my hair lightly. I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, but his cold touch sent shivers down my spine. He pulled me closer to him and nuzzled his face on my hair.

"No." I tried saying a single word with a neutral tone to avoid quavering. "Look at me." He commanded with a stern voice as he tried to cup my cheeks but I push him instead. He fell down on the bed and he let out a loud groan, looking at me in disbelief and I burried my face back to the pillow.

"I see how it is.." He rolled me over and pinning me under him as he grab my wrists, forcing them above my head. "What are you doing!?" I shrieked as I squirmed and struggle to get away. It seems that the way to deal with me was just to pin me down and make sure that I'm under him until I finally calm down.

"You're throwing a tantrum which gives me a headache and I refuse to listen to your damn crying! You're going to give me something in return for taking your stupid emotional outburst!" He yelled at me with a furious tone of his voice and I flinched. It didn't take long before he pinned my legs together making my breath catch on my throat and I could feel tears streaming down my face.

He leaned down and he start giving me light kisses on the side of my neck, leaving a row of a light bruises and kiss marks on it. He then continued leaving an array of light markings on my neck as if he starts to enjoy himself at the taste of my skin as his kisses making their way down to my collarbone that made me gasps softly.

"Now, are you going to stop your damn crying, Y/N?" He asked me sounding rather amused and satisfied at the same time. My cries slowly stopped after he left a few more light bruises on me. "Good." I hear him mumble. Butterflies started to ramble on my stomach as he continued his bold actions on me and I started to feel my cheeks burning at the sensation of his markings.

"S-Stop.." I gasps softly since he is now activating my hormones. "Why should I? I deserve a reward for putting up with your constant stubbornness." He move up to my ear and whispered those words with his husky voice and a goosebumps crawls on my skin.

I bit my lip to avoid making those sounds he was trying to trigger and struggles to remove my hands away from his grasps.

"Ah... Ah.." He grumbles as he tightened his grip on my wrist, moving his kisses to the base on my neck before sinking his teeth into my soft delicate skin as just hard enough to leave a light possessive mark. "No biting, You will not hide the sweet sounds you make."

"S-Scara..." My breathing became shallow as soon as I felt his teeth on my skin and I let out a soft moans as the shivers running down to my spine. "So, you finally decided to stop crying." He says while removing his lips from the sensitive part of my neck, leaving behind two wet red trails that makes me shudder involuntarily.

"S-Scaramouche.. Please.. Stop.. " My body went stiff once his hot breath hit the sensitive spot causing me to shiver even harder. My heartbeat started getting irregular with each passing second, as all thoughts were gone except one: 'I want it.'

"Maybe if your moans get loud enough, I might think about stopping." He whispered on my skin as he gave the new mark one more lick before moving to the other side of my collarbone. I let out a muffled scream at the pain that he inflicted on me. His kisses were starting to be too much and it felt like my whole body was going to melt if he keeps doing this. And yet his lips weren't on mine yet. I didn't dare to open my mouth, not wanting to give him the satisfaction knowing that I was enjoying this torture.

I then averted my gaze from him to hide the blush on my cheeks and he grumbles as he places his fingers under my chin, forcing me turn my head back to face him again. "Now, who told you to look away from me? You will stop holding your moans back and make those lovely sounds for me." He demanded in a low demanding tone and my eyes widen at the sudden order. "Don't be so disobedient.." His finger trailed along the edge of my jawline. "Please..." I whimpered helplessly and he laughed before sinking his teeth once again into the base of my neck leaving a dark, harsh looking bite mark on the skin as he feels another shaky breath from me.

He lift himself away from me for a bit and moves his leg before looking at me dead in the eyes as his leg brushing against my cloth entrance. His breathing grows heavier as he sees my legs shaking causing me to arch into him as I hold the blanket tightly on both sides of me.

"Mhmm.. S-Scara..!" My breath hitches when he added more friction and angled his leg properly on my sensitive spot. He groans in response when I called out his name as if he's unable to hold back the sound that wanted to make its way from his throat.

"I need to hear you say those words.." He whispers between his heavy breathing as he move his leg in a circular motion against me, my breathing grow more shallow as I continue to shake for him. He pant quietly as he leans in even closer, leaning down and starts to trail kisses along my jawline.

"Hahh... I'm.. I'm yours.." I looked at him with a bawdy expression before inhaling deeply while moaning sofly. His breathe hitches in his throat as he hears me give him the answer he wanted. I could feel a satisfied smile growing on his face as he hears the words fall from my mouth, his body started shaking a bit from the heat that had taken over. "That's a good girl..." He praised as he move his head away from my jawline, looking down at me with his eyes shining and a sinister smile appeared on his lips. He started kissing my face repeatedly before placing his mouth on the soft spot below my earlobe while his hand travels to my core. He caresses my wet folds through my panties as he rubs slow circles over my swollen cloth clit. I squirm and gasp loudly as my body started reacting to what he's doing to me and I can't keep myself composed any longer.

He close his eyes and bites down on his own lip as he feels the heat of my body through his clothes. He leans in and plants a soft kisses on my lips and moving his hand on my thigh that was circling on my cloth folds before, brushing two fingers on my inner thigh that made me feel all tingly inside and my breath hitch and I started trembling uncontrollably.

"I'll show you how much you can take of me." He said in a hoarse deep voice. I let out a moan just like he wanted as my body is already preparing to get ready for him. Feeling hotter and hotter.

His other hand moves up to my breast making me let out a small moan that only fuels him further and he lets out another husky chuckle before his thumb started rubbing around my hardened nipple and my eyes closed as I tried to relax myself but it's impossible. His movements were slow and deliberate as he continues caressing my heated body.

"Please, S-Scaramouche.. I couldn't keep up any longer." I whined as the feeling of his touches intensified and he laughs before he slowly lifts his own hips as he pushes his pants and underwear off his legs and letting it land somewhere on the ground. Shivering as I feel his own body getting even warmer than before. I look up to him, feeling slightly dizzy and a desperate expression can be seen on my face. He was breathing shaky and heavy, "Are you ready...?"

I nod quickly without a word and he smirks playfully at me before he slowly move the hem of my dress and taking off my panty, he then grab my legs and pulled them apart until they are wide opened. He grabs one of my legs and placed it on top of his shoulder, I felt so open and vulnerable in front of him especially when he is staring at me intensely like I am his prey. As soon as he starts teasing the center of my opening, my whole world gets turned upside down and I can't help but cry out loud with pleasure as his fingers started digging inside my wet velvety walls.

"Ahhh... Ohh... S-Scara... Ahhh!"

He groaned lowly, moving faster against me as my cries grew louder and I wrapped my legs tighter around his shoulder. I felt my body start to get weak and he chuckled before wrapping my legs around his shoulders again and continuing the action. "You're so wet..." He moaned with his mouth near my ear causing my already tight core to tighten even more.

At the part where I'm about to reach my climax, he stopped. The feeling of emptiness spread all over my body as I felt a wave of disappointment washed over me. I breathe heavily and look at him curiously, wondering why he stopped, I saw him smirk evilly before pulling out all his fingers from me, making me whine in frustration. His eyes shifting to look down on my legs as he positioned his body in between them, he stares at my hole, licking his lips lightly as he started pushing my legs to spread even wider. He looks at me with a smirk, "Ready?~"

My husband's member is so huge and veiny almost bigger than my entire body. He is still coated with pre cum, which makes me wonder just how long it takes before he came. It seems like it doesn't take long at all since he hasn't started thrusting his thick member yet. He wrap his fingers around his shaft, stroking it slowly and I watch causing sparks of electric feelings to fly around on my stomach. My heart rate quickened at the thought that he could just thrust real hard, deeper inside of me. I feel so hot and aching in just an instant.

"Mhmm... Yeah.." I answered breathlessly as I bite on my lower lip. Watching how he stroke his shaft up and down with his fingers in anticipation. And with that, my eyes rolled at the back of my head before I threw my head on the bed board and released a loud moan, gripping onto the sheets tightly because of the intense pleasure I felt out of a sudden entrance of his massive cock.

Author's Note :

[ I got the art icons from pinterest ]

I'm falling in love with this first POV writing style ahhh!

Request are open btw!

[ Reblogging my post appreciated! 🍷💕 ]

[angelshadowsinger]

Supposed to Be Together {part 1}

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Azriel x f!reader 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.2k 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲: angst, smut 𝐊𝐞𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: drinking, Az being dumb & in denial, drunk sex, unprotected sex 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

𝘍𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 . 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴, 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘈𝘊𝘖𝘛𝘈𝘙 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺 & 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘵 100% 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘔𝘢𝘢𝘴’ 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘰𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘕𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘴𝘰 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘥𝘫𝘢'𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦. 𝘈𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 (𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘹 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳)

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ ꜱɪᴘʜᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

The view from the House of Wind never failed to leave you breathless. 

Velaris twinkled brightly below, city lights reflecting off the Sidra as the warm summer wind tickling at your exposed skin. The sun was dipping below the horizon now, only a thin trail of scarlet bleeding into the indigo of the Night Court sky. Above, stars already blinked and glimmered, a crescent moon hung proudly above. 

The strong, swift beat of wings neared, and suddenly Mor and Nesta appeared above the wall of the balcony, each snug against Cassian’s absurdly broad chest. The two women were already donning their evening attire, jewels sparkling both their decolletages, looking near reminiscent of the stars that you had just been studying. 

Mor set sight on you immediately, skipping out of the war general’s grasp and pouncing on you. Her hair was curled in pretty waves and her lips painted a bright red that complimented the fiery orange dress snug on her hips. “Hello my sweetest,” she greeted, almost planting a kiss on you but you swerved back with a stifled laugh, pointing to her lips. She laughed, sending an air-kiss your way instead.

“Hi Mor. You look beautiful as always,” you said honestly. You’d known the female for quite some time now and it was only once you’d seen her looking worse for wear– the night she had tried to conquer a foreign green alcohol that burned your nose with but a tentative sniff. 

Turning to the other blonde, you did not fail to notice the slight flush in her cheeks as her eyes flitted away from Cassian’s, clearly amused by something her mate had communicated to her. It was only fair, given that the event that had the Inner Circle going out for the evening was their anniversary after all. The Illyrian gave you a friendly wave and shouted hello, which you returned. 

A navy dress hugged his mate’s figure and a long slit ran up her toned leg, gold jewelry spindling around her wrists and pointed ears. “Nesta, the lady of the night,” you acknowledged, “You look incredible.”

She gave a small smile at your appraisal. “Thank you, Y/N. You look nice, too.” 

It wasn’t the most amazing compliment, but you’d take it. Especially seeing as it had come from Nesta, the viper. She had calmed down since mating her male years ago, but the nickname still stuck, and you didn’t doubt that her bite could still be just as wounding as it once was. 

It was then that Mor’s fingers trailed down your forearm, sending a shiver through you and making you turn to look at her. Her gaze was currently running over the ensemble you were sporting, shining with approval at the deep violet gown that delicately draped off your shoulders and the pink sapphire necklace that followed the dip into your exposed cleavage. “Mmm, mmm. Drunk me is going to have a hard time resisting such a snack later. You know I get the drunchies,” she said, a hint of mischief in her tawny orbs. Then adding in a lower voice, “And I doubt I’ll be the only one having a hard time controlling themselves…”

She coughed as your elbow immediately jabbed her ribs. Mor was the only one that you had actually told about your relation to the mysterious spymaster of the Inner Circle. 

Ever since your apprenticeship with the renowned healer Madja had started, the higher-ups of the Night Court who so often required her services had taken keen interest in you. All of them were much friendlier than you had expected– almost more of a surprise to you than the carefree, blossoming city of Velaris. You were not of the Night Court lands, but now they felt like home to you. 

The Morrigan was the fastest friend you made, her honest nature pacifying the wariness that clung to you upon your arrival. Rhysand had attempted to befriend you first, but the sheer promise of power rippling off of him had you shrinking at the sight of him, so he allowed his friends to win you over first. Cassian was crucial in showing you that the High Lord was no threat to you, his chipper outlook wearing down the half-hearted walls you had built around yourself. Feyre also helped, who you grew closer with when you were sent to shadow her pregnancy check-ups with Madja. Many hours filled with warm vulnerability melted your frosty facade, and you bonded over the knowledge that you both had scars from your trauma, even if that acknowledgement was unspoken between the pair of you. She had even offered you a permanent position in the city, if you so desired it after your learnings with the sage healer were at a close. Once you were comfortable with her, Rhysand made your good list– if he was her mate, and if he treated her so lovingly, then surely he was not to be feared after all. Amren was… still a bit scary to you, but she was never malicious or meaning ill-will. Just unsettling. 

Last was Azriel. 

He was not present when you first arrived, and remained away during the first week of the Inner Circle’s efforts to woo you. But when he did finally arrive… you nearly swooned at first sight of him; the most handsome male you had ever laid eyes upon. It only got better when he opened his mouth, and his gentle, kind welcome pushed you off the cliff- falling, you began falling for him then. After that, he continued to treat you with such respect, and quiet thoughtfulness, that before you knew it, he was the one you began choosing to spend your free time with. One on one, he was still just as sweet, but he also showed you that he could tease, and jest, and he could be downright hilarious when he wanted to be.

It was only two weeks ago that your newest discovery had occurred. 

You had been walking through the gardens with him, a common occurrence for the two of you when he was home and off-duty, when he had flown up to the top of your favorite magnolia tree, and plucked the fattest, most beautiful blossom from the highest branch. He landed gracefully in front of you, leaning down and wordlessly offering it to you, a soft smile gracing his lips, eyes warm, and maybe even the tiniest bit of pink tinging his cheeks. It was then that the bond snapped into place. 

For you, anyway.

While you had nearly fallen on your ass in shock, disbelief– elation– he merely caught you and looked at you with concern. You hadn’t been able to form words to explain what had just happened to you, wide eyes taking in the male before you– the strong, observant, mild-mannered protector of the court– your male. Your male, with Illyrian tight leathers flush against his firm body, scarred hands holding you so softly, yet you knew his grip would never falter if he believed you not well enough to stand on your own. He would take care of you, he would treat you so well, he would…. He would, once he knew of the bond. Once the bond presented it to himself, then you’d see. Because, there was no way you were going to tell him what had just happened to you, not really. Not when he had become your closest friend, and all your hopes and dreams were suddenly pinned to him. That was just too much to put on him, not then… So you waited. Told yourself you would tell him soon, just not yet… And suddenly two weeks had gone by, and you still had yet to breach the subject.

Mor looked at you with a gentler gaze, sensing your frayed emotions and swiftly connecting the dots. Obviously you were conflicted on the subject, and she chose to dismiss it instead of prying. “Sorry,” she apologized, whispering almost. “First drink on me, okay?” 

Immediately you shut out the thoughts of your bond, nodding and putting a smile on. “It’s okay. But I will definitely take you up on that.” You winked at her and she grinned, taking your arm and leading you from the balcony into the common area.

Cassian and Nesta had already meandered inside, now standing by the grand table in the center of the space. The sconces were lit, the glimmer of magic filling the warm space and inviting you inside further. A fire crackled in the hearth, the scent of a meat-pie that must have been dinner lingering in the air, laden with foreign spices that made your nose tingle. 

“Glad you ladies could join us,” Cassian said, brows high as he gestured to the tray in the middle of the dining table. There were five shot glasses there, two empty already. The other three were filled to the brim with a clear liquid which you could only guess would surely taste terrible on your sober tongue. Beside it, a crystal container filled with more, ready for refills. 

You glanced around as Mor strode forth, unnerved. Nesta had an uncharacteristically amused smile on her pretty lips, her face relaxed as she took a sip from the half-empty glass she held. Amren was nowhere to be seen, and Rhys and Feyre were absent as well– nothing uncommon these days since they did have a small child after all, and another on the way. 

But it was always him, the subdued spymaster who now rose from his seat beside the hearth, who you were hoping to see. Azriel looked especially mouth-watering tonight, his dark hair freshly cut and kissing the tops of his ears, dark navy shirt tight across his firm chest, tattoos peeking from the collar and the sleeves rolled halfway up his strong forearms. You tried to look away, feeling like you had become engulfed by the flames licking the iron gate at the edge of the hearth as his hazel eyes raked up and down, and then back up your visage. 

The only clue to his approval was a slight twitch of the long, sleek wings behind him, and that could’ve meant anything. Though you had thought you looked good, so obviously he had to like the sight… right?

He walked toward you and smiled just a little, head bowing slightly. His shadows slowly curled toward you in greeting as well, a dark train behind him. “Hello Y/N,” he stated, then nodding to Mor. “Mor.” Deft fingers latched onto one of the remaining shots and he threw it back with ease, not even wincing as the alcohol was instantly drained. 

Cassian eyed him with some sort of emotion you couldn’t quite decipher before it was gone. Then he was refilling his and Azriel’s cup. “And what are you two waiting for, then?” He barked, amusement abundant in his strong voice. 

Mor and your eyes met, she rolled hers to the heavens, and then shrugged, grabbing her shot as well. You sighed, wondering why these ancient relics always had to go straight for the liquor, not even a chaser present for your poor taste buds. This night would surely be anything but dull.

⸻

There had been multiple rounds of shots before your small party of five left the House of Wind, and though the two men had definitely had more, you, Mor, and Nesta had all sufficiently been toasty as you made your way through the threshold of the bar. 

Rita’s was, once again, the place to be on a weekend evening in Velaris. 

Mor was already flirting with the bartender within two minutes of entry, getting that drink she had promised you as you wandered through the throng of partiers, toward the elevated side of the venue where the reserved tables stood. Rhys had long ago reserved a table for his Inner Circle on any given day of the week, and the bouncer nodded at the four of you as you made your way to it. Azriel kept a subtle arm out, ghosting behind your waist as club-goers pressed just a bit too close for his liking. 

Cassian slid into a wide stool on the other side of the booth first, allowing you and Nesta to take the booth. Azriel contemplated fitting into the booth, but ultimately chose to sit beside his brother in favor of not crushing his wings. Just as the usual containers of various juices and little water bottles appeared in the center of the table, Mor slid into the booth beside you and shoved a top-heavy glass into your hand. She gave a taller, wider glass filled with a sparkling dark red concoction to Nesta who thanked her, keeping the other glass of fizzy yellow to herself.

“None for us?” Cassian hit the table, the ice in the bucket rattling. 

Azriel frowned, waving a hand over the space before him and summoning more shot glasses, another pitcher of liquor appearing adjacent to it. Nimble hands made quick work of the shots, passing one to his brother before that striking gaze met yours and he clinked his glass against the one in your hand. He sent it back, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, his sharp jaw pronounced in the flashing colored lights of the club. 

It didn’t take long for you to start feeling borderline drunk. Whatever was in the swirling purple cocktail Mor had handed you was packing a punch– either that or the four shots you downed before the flight over here were settling in. You drained the rest of your glass. A drop escaped the corner of your lip and ran down your chin, splattering onto the soft swell of your breast, a torrid hazel gaze following the movement with scrutiny. Catching the look, your body moved on its own volition, and you stood abruptly, the tops of your thighs skimming the edge of the table.

All eyes shot to you as you proclaimed, “So who wants to dance?”

You couldn't manage to look at Azriel again, so you turned to Mor instead, who was looking up at you with nothing but pure amusement. But it was actually Nesta, on your other side, who piped up that she would love to. If your decree had been a surprise, Nesta’s was the shock of the century. But you wouldn’t let it go to waste, and Mor was on the same page as you, the three of you hurrying off to find a spot on the dancefloor. 

The club-goers parted as they welcomed you– parting for the three beautiful women entering the center of the room as the bass blasted and upbeat melodies thrummed through your bones. You swore you could feel its return, his hot gaze slinking all around your body, but you forced him out of your mind, not wanting to dampen your mood with the premise of your upcoming responsibilities nor your potential delusions. The shadowsinger could have absolutely anyone he wanted in Velaris– actually, it had been hinted he had already had quite a few in the city, though he’d looked outright deadly at the mention of that from his brothers’ lips. So why were you fated for him? There was surely some other person who could better suit him. The notion irked you and you let out a snarl that turned more into a war-cry for your dancing. 

Mor was flipping her hair and moving her arms around herself sensually beside you. Nesta had actually gone so far as to throw her hips into circles right before yours, almost grinding onto your lap. You took it upon yourself to sway and let your fingers run through your hair, showing off your smooth skin and letting your head fall back as you felt the music call to you. 

It was quite a show the three of you were putting on, song after song your trio swirled and traded places with each other, staving off any males who attempted approach.

Cassian was not disturbed by the number of lustful gazes his mate was collecting, eyes gleaming with pride and possession as he studied Nesta’s body from afar. But Azriel was quietly fuming beside him, his shadows screeching with fury as a fae male eventually managed to reach your side, sliding a hand around your waist. His gaze was daggers on the suitor, who seemed unphased by the brooding Illyrian in the distance. Nesta moved over to Mor then, observantly giving him space to slide into when you didn’t immediately reject him. 

Without taking his glare off the male, Azriel messily poured another shot for himself, threw it back, and then immediately filled another. Finally his brother’s attention snuck over to him, warily monitoring as the shadowsinger tossed back yet another drink. He eyed the shadows, which were bunching and flicking with displeasure around the perimeter of him, then warned, “Az, maybe you should slow down.”

Azriel grimaced, ice cold as he watched you press a palm to the male’s chest, leaning in to whisper something in his ear. “Why ever should I, brother? Does your mating not call for celebration?” His grip was so tight he nearly shattered the glass, but then your suitor’s eyes widened comically, and he scampered away into the crowd, leaving you alone. He felt like he could breathe again, and he sat back slightly, ruffling his wings as if shaking off the tension that saddled them just moments ago. 

Cassian watched his brother, noted the gaze that was zeroed in on you, on your every move. He had an inkling for a while before now, but it was hard for him to watch Azriel pretend like he didn’t want to be anything more with you when you looked at him the same way. Before he could impart any words of advice, you were slinking up to the table, glazed eyes magnetized on the spymaster. Cassian wondered if you even knew he was sitting there as well.

“Az, will you dance with me?” you asked, hands behind your back, it made your curves look absolutely irresistible in that violet number. 

Cassian was shocked, sure his mouth had fallen on the floor, interest piqued. This was one of the best anniversary presents he ever could’ve asked for, second only to Nesta’s gown strewn on the floor of their room in just a few hours. On one hand, his brother never danced. Maybe only a handful of times had he witnessed such a sight, and that had only been bits and pieces, from nights he barely remembered. On the other, he was sure that you had an absolute hold on the spymaster– if you so much as batted your eyelashes and asked for him to fetch the stars for you, he certainly would.

He had to reign in his scream of glee when Azriel responded, “Of course.” 

Even drunk, the shadowsinger was adept. He weaved through the crowd, following you and pointedly ignoring the lingering glances of the crowd, glances that wandered from your elegant radiance onto him– at the powerful aura and ominous shadows rolling off his broad shoulders, his stunning face, or the daunting wings that loomed behind him. 

When you found a spot with ample space, your hips started moving on their own accord, and Azriel’s followed suit. Not touching, the two of you filled the space and watched each other, eyes wandering around each other’s bodies unabashedly. Azriel couldn’t help but puff his chest up at the desire that swirled in your glossy orbs, the approval shining from you as you took in the way his body moved before you, his cool cedar scent luring you closer. The alcohol that coursed in his blood allowed him to be bold, and he carefully placed a hand at the bottom of your spine, pulling you into him. The action was welcomed and he tried not to be too excited about your proximity, how the sweet smell of you twirled into his nose and made his brain become a puddle around his feet. 

He had never been so close to you– not like this– and never with his guard so low, nearing absent. Never had the marred skin of his palms held your hips, the curve of your ass brushed his thigh, never had you given him that sultry gaze beneath kohl-coated lashes, never had he been so damn hard in a public space like this. 

“You look so beautiful tonight.” It slipped out of him like he was possessed, unaware the words had even left him along with the husky whisper of your name. 

But that made you smile at him, near bashful at his compliment, your heart slamming in your chest, begging, aching for more of his praise. 

It was as if he could hear what your body so desperately desired, for Azriel then murmured, “You are beautiful every night. Every day… agonizingly so.” 

His grasp on you was gentle, and suddenly it was all you could feel– he was all you could feel, the music and the crowd blurring around you. He was looking at you with such intensity that your body was singing, your lips parted but no words able to leave you. All you wanted to do in that moment was bridge the gap between his mouth and yours. It took all the willpower in your being to stop yourself from doing so, your mate’s gaze piercing you to the dancefloor while the two of you stood still, just looking at each other. 

“Thank you, Azriel.”

Those meager words were all you could get out, too paralyzed to come up with anything better. Honestly, you were surprised you even said anything at all, for fear of confessing your love and your bond right here to him and everyone in the room, drunk and breathless in the middle of Rita’s. 

Azriel seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in at the sound of his name on your tongue, blinking and grip loosening on you. His cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink before his shadows came to cover him, and he coughed awkwardly. “I, um…” he mumbled, stepping back from you and the obvious shock painted on your face, “I’ll get us some more drinks.”

Just like that, he was gone, and the crowd surrounding you seemed to come back into your awareness. You noticed the gazes of Cassian and Nesta settled on you from across the room then, one of befuddlement and the other displeasure. But you didn’t even have a second for the mortification to wash over you, as Mor materialized before you instantly, grabbing your hand and leading you deeper in the crowd. She gave you an inquisitive look once the pair of you had found shelter behind the masses, but didn’t push it, noting the confusion that settled your features even as your body moved to the rhythm once more. 

⸻

For the next hour or so, you danced with Mor, and Nesta and Cassian came to join you at some point as well. The Illyrian looked like he wanted to say something to you, but was rendered unable both from the noise of the club and also his mate who had positioned herself between you two. You knew Azriel was stationed at the table, but couldn’t bring yourself to look over at him, even though you were becoming thirstier by the minute and knew he had a drink awaiting you. At some point Mor had wandered back over to the bartender, now with her full rack resting atop the bar and in deep, seemingly-seductive conversation by the way she was looking at them. And even if the couple beside you were well-intentioned, you refused to burden them with your loneliness, finally wishing them congratulations on their anniversary and excusing yourself.

The shadowsinger sat up slightly as you came closer, the evidence of his drinking overt; two crystal carafes stood empty beside a third that was half-full, tiny pools glistening on the tabletop where they missed his glass. 

“Is that for me?” you asked as you slid into the seat opposite of him, nodding to the bright cocktail that stood alone at the booth side of the table.

He nodded in return, fingertip tracing the edge of his tiny cup, silky hair slightly disheveled and his eyes not quite as critical as usual. You thanked him quietly, taking a sip before a modest smile bloomed on your lips in unspoken appreciation at the familiar flavor of your favorite drink. The club was slightly spinning by the time the glass was drained, a drunken giggle escaping you at the light feeling that filled you. 

Azriel smiled at you, your eyes closed and slowly swaying like grass in sweet summer wind. He did not regret his admission on the dancefloor, for it had been the truth. He just wished he was brave enough to tell you that without taking twenty shots– or however many he’d had– he’d stopped counting after twelve. Even though he was not at all sober himself, he could sense that it was time to get you home. It wasn’t unusual for him to bring you back to the House of Wind; night outings like this usually did end up the two of you as everyone else paired off. Yet for some reason, it felt different tonight. He couldn’t wait to scoop you in his arms and zip through the sky. 

“Would you like to go home?” he said, watching amusedly when you opened your eyes and sent him a dazzling grin. 

You agreed, “You always read my mind, Az.” 

The tall male led you out to the front of Rita’s, catching his brother’s eye and nodding in farewell. A few other drunkards sat on the curb and passed something smoky between them, their low cackles echoing down the otherwise-quiet stone alleyway. The cool crisp smell of the night air washed over the pair of you, the stars still dangling high in the indigo sky. You inhaled deeply, Azriel doing the same as he walked you into the center of the street, wings growing and stretching. You watched as those wings shook the sleep from themselves, swelling the street with silky shadows as they unfurled, as if he had been keeping those at bay just as much. It was a gorgeous sight as he unfastened the top button of his shirt, another ring of tattoos peeking out at the middle of his chest. You could stare at him for ages. 

Azriel reached out for you, his wings flapping a couple times to warm up. His gaze was bright, as if the incident inside hadn’t even occurred. But you were eager to feel his touch on you once more, so you skipped over to him instantly, practically jumping in his arms. You’d once worried that you were too heavy to do such things, but after flying with the Illyrian so many times now, you knew you were nowhere near his carrying capacity. He was absurdly strong, just like his brothers– seven siphons adorning his body and channeling the brunt of his power. For him, bringing you to the House of Wind was probably akin to the amount of energy you’d expend skipping a small rock across a placid stream, the whole ordeal over in three seconds.

Little did you know he planned to take the scenic route, if not just to feel you clutching onto him for a few moments longer.

The ground sucked out from underneath you as he sprang up into the night, and you stifled the excitable scream that always tried to escape. He only laughed as he found his place in the sky, the powerful beat of his wings seamlessly blending with the low moan of the wind. Once you had a better grip on him, and his arms secured around you tighter, you adjusted and laughed too– excitement coursing through you. It was such a rare sight, seeing the reticent shadowsinger smile at you unrestrained like that, carefree. All you could do was mirror him before he dove the two of you into the night. 

Stars whipped past as he danced through the skies; black, fuschia, violet, and navy all swirling together above you. His shadows tickled at you gently, leaving a cool wake where they touched. Cerulean and cyan gleamed from the siphons on the backs of the hands that clutched onto you, and you catapulted forward suddenly. All you could do was latch onto the hard muscles that secured you as Azriel took you for a roller coaster ride. 

He dove and looped and held onto you, relishing the feeling of your skin touching his, the smell of your hair that whipped around him– the feeling of you gripping him so hard– hard enough that maybe it would be enough for him to leave you alone once you arrived at the house instead of pressing you up into the balcony pillars and pleasuring you until you passed out, like he so deeply wanted to do. 

The joyride could only go on for so long before it had to end; the two of you were still considerably drunk and only able to handle a few loop-de-loops on the journey. Azriel had managed to sneak in an extra minute or two of air-time, not wanting to risk your suspicion nor take advantage of you. The liquor was beginning to really hit him at full effect now, stumbling a bit as he landed on your balcony. It was only two extra steps, nothing major. But Azriel always flew with such precision that you knew you weren’t the only one feeling the alcohol.

Now that you were looking at him again, you found yourself mesmerized by his ethereal beauty. Long lashes pointed down to you as he continued to hold you, despite him now standing firmly in the middle of your balcony. Hazel eyes flicked over your face and he smiled just a little for you. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, you never really could– but he definitely had a great many thoughts flickering behind his gentle gaze. 

You peeped as your back touched something, and you realized he had walked over to the chaise-lounge perched under the bow of your balcony– trying to set you down. You looked back at the chair and then at him. Dark brows knitted beneath his tousled hair as he loosened his grip, but you remained clinging to him. 

Azriel murmured your name when he tried to deposit you there and you refused, again. 

“Can you…” you whispered, reluctant to leave his embrace. It felt so good to have him touching you, and your inhibitions were at an all time low as your mate held you so dearly, his eyes filled with concern. “Can you put me on my bed, Az?” 

The Illyrian blinked, wings ruffling before quickly tucking in. He pulled you up again and carried you inside your room, princess-style. It was how he always held you during flight, but somehow when his feet were on the ground it felt completely different… not quite as innocent. 

Your room was lit with beams of moonlight pouring through the arched windows and sheer curtains, yet the male’s shadows flicked over the tips of the candles by your bed and they lit as he willed them to. It was spacious enough inside that your medicinal books and tomes spread out all over the area, along with your trinkets and clothes. The strong smell of you clung to the walls, the sofa, the bed. He had never been this deep into your room for this long before, and he was sure the alcohol wasn’t the only substance he was drunk on. 

You savored the sight of him while he wandered toward your bed. You allowed yourself to dream of the day your male would know just what you were to him, and imagined he was about to ravage you instead of dump you and leave you in your big bed all alone. Your hips moved slightly against his front, and you closed your eyes in embarrassment as heat began to rush in between your legs. It wasn’t really wrong of you to be turned on by your mate, especially after drinking so much and dancing with him the way you had. But the bond was still your secret, and you didn’t know if Azriel even felt anything slightly like how you felt for him; if he had any inkling that you were made to be together. 

You chanced one more look at him as he set you atop the soft duvet, fluffy pillows plush against your back. His inky hair fell between his eyes as he leaned forward and laid you down fully, sitting on the very edge of the bed and turning to draw the blanket at your feet up and over you before he left. His back muscles rippled through his shirt, pumped after flying for just a few minutes. Another tattoo teased you from the side of his neck, and at the muscled sight of him, you wondered if he knew that he was the sexiest male to ever exist. 

He turned to you, leaving the fuzzy throw halfway up your exposed legs, a dark blush staining his cheeks as he looked at you incredulously. You blinked at him, not comprehending that you had just said that last thought aloud. He looked so incredibly flustered that it only took you a moment to realize your mistake, a hand slapping over your mouth as if that would somehow make him unhear your profession.

“I– I meant,” you gasped as you sat up on your elbows, breasts bouncing and sitting heavily on your chest at the sudden movement. Azriel glanced down at the action, the emotion wiping off his face and instantly an interested mask of cool was in its place. “I…” you stopped breathing as he leaned closer to you, his breath fanning your neck and his shadows curling around your ankles. 

Azriel’s eyes were searing into you, burning the shape of your body into the covers you laid upon. The alcohol was giving him too much confidence, your praise soaking his bones with white-hot desire as he appraised your figure that was pressed between his hard body and the soft mattress. “Is that really what you think of me?” he inquired, the words tight, restrained. Are you sure, his eyes seemed to ask.

“Yes,” you answered immediately, the word rushing out of you before you could think to lie. Maybe that was how the victims of his spymaster tactics felt, too, under the scrutiny in his never-ending hazel gaze. But you couldn’t think about that now– couldn’t think about anyone else, because then Azriel was kissing you. 

He crawled over you, caging your body under his large frame as his lips conquered yours. You were in too much shock, and too much bliss to refuse– moaning as his tongue wandered into your mouth, a rough hand gripping your waist as the other gripped onto the bend of your headboard, hard. 

This was wrong.

Both of you knew it, deep down, but neither wanted to stop, and neither of you cared now. Your bodies were strung out, needing to be connected so terribly after spending so much time together with not so much as a single kiss. Now that you had had just a tiny taste of it, you couldn't control yourself any more. And Azriel wanted you, the evidence of it pressing into you through his pants and your dress. 

On the same page, he groaned as he sat up, pulling you with him and his hands squeezing the plush of your thighs, shoving your dress up over your hips. You frantically unbuttoned his top, and he ripped the cloth off of him in impatience, cupping your ass and lifting you in one arm as he got rid of his pants with his free hand. You slipped forward so that your hips slotted over his, your slick panties rubbing against the thick, exposed length of him. The both of you gasped at the contact, and he quickly unzipped your gown and threw it over your shoulders into the darkness of your room. 

Your tits spilled out against his broad, inked chest and he growled, hips bucking against yours and sliding his hard cock against your core. Your head tossed back and his mouth was instantly claiming the skin of your neck, licking there and teeth sinking in just hard enough for you to cry out. The liquor only made everything more intense, your skin exploding wherever he touched, kissed, sucked. 

“Please Az,” you pleaded, desperate for more of him. He kissed you again, laying you back onto the pillows once more before he sunk down and sucked a nipple into his mouth. Your body writhed in his arms, pleasure shooting through you. His other hand wandered up the inside of your thigh, trailing closer to where you needed him. 

He let out a delectable sound when the heel of his palm pushed into your clit through your panties, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your ass cheeks. He snarled as your wetness soaked his hand, your body ready for him to take you and claim you as his. Before you could beg again, his fingers slipped under the lace and he ripped the garment into shreds, exposing your dripping pussy to his greedy stare. All you could do was moan and arch your back, nipples stiff and body flushed, bare before your male. 

Azriel dragged you to the bottom of the mattress, then sinking to his knees before you. He spread you before his face, inspecting the most intimate part of you that glistened just for him. The way he was looking at you made a new wave of embarrassment wash over you, but before you could complain, he was leaning into you.

“So perfect,” he said sincerely, not seeming to care as he took a deep breath of your arousal, eyes filled with a wicked glint. Tattooed arms slithered up under your thighs and scarred hands cupped your hips as his tongue roved over your pussy. 

You were moaning unashamedly as he licked at you, kissing your clit and closing his eyes to savor the taste of you, recording each spot that had you crying out and giving them extra attention. Your body was shaking in his grasp, and you keened when his rough fingertips prodded your sopping hole. They slipped in, thrusting a few times before you were cumming, squirming and eyes rolling back. Those fingers retreated and rubbed the fresh slick along your slit, ensuring everything was nice and wet.

He stood then, cock tall and thick at the dip of the V between his hips. You tried to sit up to get a better look at it, eyes widening at the size of him and then realizing his wings had spread out behind him. Maybe that thing they said about wingspan was true after all.

“Come here,” he ordered and you shuffled down to the edge of the bed to meet him. 

You got onto your hands and knees before him, and he raised a brow as he watched your hand wrap around him. His hips thrust forward and he sucked in a breath as you took him into your mouth. He was too big to fit all the way so you went down as far as you could, tongue caressing behind your lips as you pushed him in and out of your throat. Once enough saliva had gathered in your mouth you spat into your hands and twirled them around the base of him, ample length for them to jerk over. Syncing the churn of your hands with your mouth, Azriel began panting, hands tucking your hair back so he could watch your pretty lips slide over him. He only allowed you a minute before he tore you off of him, refusing to finish without feeling the heaven your sweet cunt had promised him as he tasted it earlier. 

Desire pulsed through you as he tossed you onto your back and grasped your ankles, pulling you down so your core rested at the end of the bed, just inches away from his cock. He grabbed himself at the base, pointing the tip onto your hole and sliding the underside of it up and down your slit. Your body was tensing, twitching and trying to pull him inside you, where he was meant to be. “Az… Azriel I need you,” you sobbed, delirious. 

Azriel complied with your wishes, pushing the tip of himself inside your wet pussy before gently thrusting in. Each measured swing of his hips buried him deeper inside of you and you were thrust into another dimension as he hit those sacred, secret spots deep within you. You began clawing at his back as your legs folded on either side of him, submissive to the onslaught of pleasure he was showering you in. You couldn’t think, could barely breathe as he pumped into you, your walls hugging tight around him, begging he never leave, trying to convince him to stay here forever. He was moaning into your clavicle, wings fluttering as he fucked you deep, sweat beginning to dribble down the black designs carved into his firm torso. 

You couldn’t stop calling his name out, panting in his ear as your core took the shape of him. He was shuddering in pleasure, one hand cupping both your tits together and the other coming to curl around your back, hand supporting the back of your neck, pressing you closer to him. His tongue wrestled with yours again, thrusts becoming deeper, harder. Inked hips slapped against yours, the sound of your skin smacking mingling with both your ragged moans. You were close again, the passion in his gaze and his body’s pure intent surging with every thrust. 

Suddenly his shadows joined, slithering onto the bed around you and securing your limbs to the blankets. They flicked over every inch of your skin, tasting you, as if committing the sight and the feel of you to memory. They swirled over your hips, the promise of pleasure whispering in your ears as they crawled toward your nipples and your clit. You cried when they stimulated you, Azriel’s gaze bright as he watched them ravish you, just as he’d always imagined. They intensified everything, and it only took a few more pumps of his throbbing cock inside of you to make you unravel. Your cunt squeezed him ruthlessly, crying as your orgasm surged through your body. 

Azriel took in the sight of you, riding the ecstasy he had provided you with, and his own release came closer. He kept pushing into your slippery core, deep and hard now as his body begged him to finish inside you, for him to fill you up with his seed. He toed over the cusp of his climax, pressing his lips to yours as he uttered, “I love you,” and shot his load as deep as he could into you. His wings flapped a few times as he came, taut body shaking with euphoria.

Your heart swelled at his confession and you smiled, reaching for him to join you on the bed. He took you into his arms, holding you tightly against himself as he picked you up. His shadows brought forth a small, soft cloth and he held it underneath you as he pulled out of you, his essence dribbling out. You whimpered at the sensation, not wanting him to leave you just yet. But he set you back against the pillows once more, tucking your naked form under the covers and joining you there. He scooped your back into his chest, taking a deep breath of your scent from behind your ear. His wings hung off the side of your mattress slightly, his shadows forming a ring around the bed to guard your resting figures. 

He fell asleep quickly, the scarred fingers trailing along your forearm falling slack as his breaths deepened. You savored every second you could, fighting your exhaustion until you had no strength left and peaceful slumber took hold of you. 

“I love you too, Az…”

⸻

The chirp of sparrows on the balcony awoke you the next morning. Your head was pounding, your mouth parched and eyes bleary. Sun shone brightly into your room from the open curtains at the balcony, and you groaned, wondering if your magic could shoot the damn birds just so they’d shut up. Your stomach did not feel good either, an acidic burn at the bottom of your throat. You shifted, a hand coming to press at your forehead. Only you couldn’t– your arm was tucked under something warm and heavy. 

Your eyes flew open. 

Beside you was your mate, his naked chest on display as he laid asleep in your bed. His mouth was open just a crack, and his silky black hair was messy, his arm secure around you. Your heart shot into your mouth and you almost threw up in astonishment. You had spent the night together? 

Oh god. 

You had spent the night together.

Heat blazed your cheeks as you recalled last night’s events, recognizing the dull ache between your legs. Light bruises littered your curves, fingers wandering over a particularly tender spot in the dip between your neck and shoulder. The ghost of his touch still lingered on your skin, and it took you a moment to realize his shadows had come to say good morning to you, caressing your skin. 

You glanced over at him, but he was still asleep. It was only once a shadow trailed off your arm onto his neck and up to his ear that he opened his eyes, gaze meeting yours instantly. 

You pulled the sheet up over your cleavage a little better, wondering if there was any decency left for you to hide from him. “Good morning,” you blurted out, not sure what to say.

Azriel sat up swiftly, groaning as a hand flew to his forehead and he cradled it, obviously hungover just as you were. His wings stretched behind him and he dragged his palms down his face, swearing quietly.

You tried to calm down, your heart beating faster as the moment neared. You would have to talk about it now, right? Now that you had mated, didn’t he feel the bond in place? You didn’t remember what exactly had transpired last night, but surely he had to have discovered your bond. How could he fuck you and not have it snap into place for him?

“How do you feel?” you asked, watchful as you gripped the sheets with clammy hands. 

The shadowsinger sighed, one of his shadows running up his palm and over his shoulders. “Like shit, to be honest,” he replied, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your eyes. He looked at you then, eyes dropping to your chest and then the sheet you were holding, then to his own body. He picked up the sheet and looked at his lap, eyes going wide as he glanced over at you again. “Y/N, we…” 

You nodded slowly, watching his every move to figure out what he was feeling exactly.

Pink dusted his high cheekbones, gaze becoming apologetic. “I’m so sorry Y/N,” he started.

Suddenly your headache didn’t hurt so bad, and the nausea in your stomach heightened. “Why are you sorry?” You whispered, begging for him to be joking. He couldn't still not know… 

Azriel frowned at your emotional gaze. “I… I don’t want to give you the wrong idea,” he continued, and it felt like he had just stabbed your heart. “I never should have touched you last night. We were drunk, it wasn’t right. I’m sorry.” 

Rejection. 

It was excruciating, as if Truth-Teller was carving your insides out. 

“I see.” Your words were hollow now, but you couldn’t stop the words from falling from your lips. “Do you regret it?” You hated that it had slipped out, because you knew his reply would only hurt you even more. 

The shadows around your hips dragged at you, crying as they were pulled away from you, their master slipping from the sheets, pulling on his pants. Azriel couldn’t look at you, avoiding your gaze as he fumbled around for his shirt. 

“Did you mean it?” You asked quietly, so quiet Azriel almost didn’t hear it. You didn’t know if he knew what you were referring to, if he knew you were asking him if he loved you. 

It didn’t matter, because he chose not to reply, slipping out of your door and leaving you to drown in melancholy. You had your answer.

𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘱. 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 8𝘬 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦. 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘙𝘌. 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 & 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥~ 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨!!^^

next part

[its-time-to-write]

masterlist

i figured it was time to make one. it's in order based on when i wrote it. please, please let me know if a link is broken/mislabeled!!

*82 fics*

All of these are Jamie Tartt x reader

dress

Jamie and Keeley buy you a dress for the benefit gala

three times 'cause i've waited my whole life

secret relationship to engagement

you're losing me

first kid

don't make this any harder

Jamie wants to take you to Brazil, you’re both idiots

would hit him in a heartbeat now

Your ex boyfriend is a footballer and also a douche

silent sleepers

Jamie contemplates your relationship on the team bus

what it is

Jamie is sick ft. Roy

don't go wasting your emotion

Secret relationship + you own a bookshop! Ft. Roy and Keeley

you know, you'll always know me

You’re a famous singer! Congrats!

i don't know how you keep smiling/i'm just choking almost constantly

Jamie’s dad is a douche

i'll still be right next to you my dear

Jamie is a dad

can't really say i'm enjoying it now

Yikes it’s a breakup fic, but happy endings only in this house

mine of you with me

Reader and Jamie go semi-public with their relationship

today's a day like any other

The Tartt family thru the years

there's orange juice in the kitchen

Oof ouch period cramps

i can't breathe without you

Nate kisses you w/o consent

damned if i do give a damn what people say

You’re a theater actress! How exciting!

island made of faith

People think Jamie’s dumb, and he’s not

take your time while you're mine

You’re Roy’s other sister ft. all the Kents

honey, i'll give you all my time

Vienna. Enough said.

feeling fragile can't you tell

Jamie gets hurt

wrote all your lines in the script in my mind

Oh no! Some girl kissed Jamie and it wasn’t you! + Colin as the bff

stick together like glitter

Babysitting Phoebe + angst

your mind is not your friend

Angst + comfort after you have a bad hookup

chasing shadows in a grocery line

You’re pretty sure you have a hot stalker

don’t go yet

Tee hee protective Jamie at a club

kicking myself to keep from crying

The morning after your mind is not your friend

i think we could do it if we tried

High school sweethearts reunited after 6 years🥺

i’m glad you exist

You and Jamie go to a wedding

send for me

BREAKING: shit day at work made better by local boyfriend

tell me where to put my love

day off = food + snuggles

bored

The longest angst I’ve ever written. Def not the best angst I’ve ever written.

would it be enough if i never gave you peace

you’ve got baby fever and your pretty sure it’s going to kill your brother

wishing on every one

You own a flower shop. It’s adorable.

lyrical eyes, indigo smile

Bea meets the team for the first time!

something to rely on

You storm the pitch and smooch your bf

flipped the script

Enemies to lovers slow burn (or maybe fast burn, idk)

i fancy you

London Boy by ms. T. Swift

you don’t want to know me

Jamie shows up at your door after s.1 Man City

you’re in the kitchen humming

Post-Mom City

family that i chose

For the child-free girlies!

never wanted you to hate me

Pt. 2 of you don’t want to know me

wonderstruck

BFF Keeley tells you to give her awful ex a chance

in love with an idea

idk it’s like a confession of love? kinda cute

sinking into your worn-out mattress

Touch-deprived therapist! reader

you’re a mansion with a view

just two footballers doing an England promo, nothing to see here

i know what i’m doing

Post-Roy/Jamie locker room hug after Man City

wonder what it’d be like

Jamie tries to win you back

if only love were true

You’re a single mom in dire need of a plus-one

i know now it’ll pass

It’s hard to love someone when you’ve been told you don’t deserve it

the way it goes

The Greyhounds are protective of Jamie

how to love being alive

Idk this one’s like whatever and also supes long

there is happiness

GEORGIE GEORGIE GEORGIE

it’s just wanderlust

Relationship soft launch

glitter on the floor

You like to knit. You also think you’re a comedian.

maybe tomorrow you’ll know

The “he’s a prick to everyone but her” trope

hustling for the good life

I swear this is my last chaptered fic

let’s fall in love for the night

Kent!reader is having a baby

soft hands hit the jagged ground

friends w/benefits

for you, there’ll be no more crying

anxiety at work + bf jamie

smile at me

there was only one bed!!!!

slow motion double vision in rose blush

happy b-day Jamie Tartt

half-moon eyes

it’s just a question!

can’t hear my thoughts (i cannot hear my thoughts)

I’m allowed to write what i want, ok???

here in my arms

more Kent!reader + a baby named George

coffee at midnight

prick coach wakes you up bc of your prick boyfriend

healing me fine

Just a lil engagement fic for ya

i don’t know anything

if you’re interested in Bea

right words at the right time

It’s a wedding fic

move fast and keep quiet

boxer!reader + smitten Jamie

not saying you’re in love with me

You meet over Bantr!!!

we could be so good

Jamie comforts you after a bad date

i hold it like a grudge

i don’t even know how to describe this one but u might cry

there for you

sick fic

before you go

physio!reader

you’ll probably date her

chronic illness + childhood friends. gotta love it

feel it burn

Gym anxiety

play it back

Old movies of bb Jamie

ours

Thanksgivinggggg

light in the hallway

MORE Kent!reader

stuck by you

Bad family + good Jamie = fic

please don’t be

five chapters of sadness that definitely isn’t based on personal experience

[essentiallyleaf]

day 24. car sex. with. ningning.

1286 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, car sex, Z O O M I N, deepthroating, semi-public sex, a bit of classic existential dread.

notes.

it is so fucking late i gotta go. speedily, leaf.

It’s at times like these that you want to treasure the most precious resource you have. The sun just sank down the horizon of Alpha-Earth, giving the sky this vibrant, electric aura, from the golden and pastel blue West to the indigo East. Hundreds of headlights leave long trails of yellowish white and rusty red all along the highway, almost as if the lines were already there, and the cars just following their predetermined paths. Your right foot pushes down, getting closer and closer to the asphalt. They can call you old-fashioned, but you love the growl of the rear combustion engine, the sound of rubber on tarmac. Time. They say it gets slower as you approach light speed, you’re far from it, but it’s almost like the clock’s hands move slower as the speedometer needle reaches new peaks. Nothing feels as close to God as this. The car takes a life of its own, and you wish you could simply close your eyes and, feel. The thrill you get when you’re on top of a tall building, and part of you wants to take a step. Those are also just passing moments, you think as you lift and return to cruise speed.

Ningning is beside you like she, sometimes is. Her hand falls on your pants-clad dick and starts rubbing like it does almost every single one of those times; the other times you’re already naked. Not the first time this happens in the car, even at high speed, so you simply turn auto-pilot on (they forced everyone to install it even on cars built before 2035) and let your head fall back in pleasure as she reaches inside your underwear to caress your bare length. Your right hand naturally goes to her almost naked back, needing to feel her skin under your finger pads.

She doesn’t dress to impress; sometimes she doesn’t dress at all. And the navy skintight rags she’s wearing today, well, those almost qualify as the latter. You’re in your usual attire, combat boots, cargo pants, the ones that tighten at the ankle, a close-fitting long sleeve shirt and a windbreaker. She needs your help to lower your pants and underwear, then goes back to stroking your cock, spitting on it for lubrication and reaching down to fondle your scrotum from time to time, causing you to moan up towards the roof of the car.

“Mmmh- Ning?”

“Huh?”

“Mind speeding the process up a little?”

Ningning likes to take her time, you learned that long ago. To make you look at her as she pulls the little lever on the side of your seat to move it backwards, positions herself between your legs, and stamps one long wet kiss on your tip. Or to observe people strolling at the night market, mothers buying their sons balloons, couples eating tanghulu (“You can tell if they’re good kissers just by looking at that” “Want to try with me?” “There’s a more hands-on way”; that was your first shared kiss, and it was more than just hands, on one another’s bodies after that). Right now her blue-tinted eyes are on yours, as her mouth surrounds more and more of your cock and she starts to feel her eyes watering and her lungs lacking air. She resists for almost fifty seconds this time - a good one, though not in her top five - drawing more than a groan from you before she has to back out and seek for oxygen.

“Are you okay?” She nods quickly, her hands cleaning up some of the drool that has accumulated on the sides of her mouth. “I need you right now, Ning.”

Ningning smiles and snorts lightly like she has you in the palm of her hand, and at the same time she has to concede this one to you. You stare at her open-mouthed as she somehow rids herself of her clothes, revealing her supple breasts and thick outer lips to you, and only thanks to your tinted windows not to any car around yours. She straddles your lap and wraps her arms around your neck to kiss you deeply while you grab onto one of her plump thighs with one hand and align your shaft with her already wet slit with the other. Her eyes are finally closed as she focuses on the feeling of your tip swiping up and down her vulva, brushing on her clit at every passage.

She’d been looking outside for almost all the trip, scrutinizing every detail of the gray and neon skyline of Nu-Seoul. Ningning has always had her own, unique wide-angle lens on the world. She has a little plant shelf right below her window in her apartment. It’s in one of those old, gray, samey buildings they were plopping one next to the other back when a growing world population wasn’t just a myth; the place is small and the plaster falling apart. One day she was sitting in front of the window, staring at the new little blossoms on the orchid, or at the bland, shiny neons on the skyscraper behind it, you couldn't really tell.

“Do you ever feel like the world is moving too fast for you?” She asked, sounding dispirited.

“I try to stay on pace”

“I feel… impotent. Like there’s nothing I can do, to change it”

“Do you think it’s on you to change it?”

“I think it’s on me to try.” She turns her gaze towards you, you let out a little sigh.

“When it’s just the two of us,” You sit beside her and wrap your arm around her back. “We can make what we want of our time. Make it speed up, slow down… It’s just ours. No one will ever take that away from us”

What you’re making of it now is pumping your dick in and out of her pussy while gripping onto her full asscheeks while she whimpers in your mouth at the sensation of her hole being stretched. She loves that feeling like she loves the feeling of wet grass on her feet when it’s raining, though meadows are but a distant memory in a city eaten by cement and desolation. Her soft, tight walls squeezing you in a humid embrace. You were wrong; this is what makes you feel like you’re touching the Infinite, reaching Eternity. Ningning moaning in bliss on your lips, on the crook of your neck, on the headrest of the driver’s seat. Her hands not finding rest, switching between your pecs, your jaw, your hips, and her own heat, digits circling at frenzied pace on her clit. You speed your thrusts up, time slows down. It’s a race ending in a photo finish; you can see the end, it’s close for both parties, but you never seem to reach it. Take a look at her pleasured state, savor the moment. Savor her tits as well, feast on them, then slap her ass once, twice. She wasn’t expecting it, her instinctive reaction is to drag her pelvis forwards towards you, giving you a different angle to attack. Exploit that to hit every crevice, every little patch you weren’t able to before, and as she contracts around you in one long, then multiple short and rhythmic flexes of her lower abdomen, each accompanied by a scream that fills the entire cockpit, you have your own release. Spill cups and cups of milky substance into her womb, every spurt coinciding with an upwards thrust and a small bite on her shoulder, as you continuously groan in complete bliss. Then it’s silence, a second, or an eternity, it doesn’t matter anymore, before she talks again.

“Back seat for round two? I want it from behind”

-

footnotes.

now i can’t unsee the asthma periods. you cursed me @erospandemos. gaspingly, leaf.

[legallypunkin]

Here’s my rendition of the Homestuck kids as trolls. I used preexisting canon (or postcanon) trollsona sprites as a jumping off point, though for some I couldn’t.

(Here’s the trolls as kids!!)

Design explanations will be under the cut.

Jake English: I chose to make Jake burgundy due to the Hiveswap description. I personally am not too much of a fan of these descriptions, as they really only apply to the main twelve trolls, if even that, but I was otherwise lost on Jake. His socks are indigo to reference the Alternian idea of wearing the blood color of someone you share a quadrant with, especially as a lowblood, to signify that you shouldn't be messed with. His horns are taken from Calliope's trollsona, as Jake is the closest relative to Lord English, and there's probably some symbolism there. As for the name "Jaking Enlish", I simply scrambled his original name a bit to make it fit the 6x6 naming conventions.

Dave Strider: I chose to make Dave gold due to his early shown proficiencies with tech. The horns are taken from his canon trollsona, and them having two starting points before merging into a single horn at the tip is similar to that of a few background Hiveswap trolls. His name is a reference to Davesprite, being a crow.

Roxy Lalonde: She is very connected to cats, even down to her human symbol, so who am I to get rid of that connection? Her horns are meant to look both like cat ears as well as hearts, and her hair was reshaped a bit for a spikier appearance. Her dress is her party dress, and, as seen in Jake's trollsona, Roxy too wears the blood color of someone she is in quadrants with. Her name isn't too much of a change.

Jade Harley: I made Jade jade because I thought it was funny, that is literally it. Her original trollsona was pretty good, and I replaced her god tier fit with a sort of horrid amalgamation of some other fits. Now that we've seen Fiamet with a tail, I figured I could give Jade one as well as ears, and I figure her working in the brooding caverns gives her a much lower likelihood of early culling. She also does breed the frogs, so that's got to be worth something. Her shoes are red because red seems to be one color which numerous trolls of all castes accessorize with, and her name is a combination of - you guessed it - the words "Jade" and "pup", with her last name remaining the same.

John Egbert: John gets to be a tealblood almost entirely due to his father. He's an unassuming guy from the suburbs who does menial officework. This also seems to be the fate of many tealbloods, so boom. Teal John. His horns are similar to those of Xefros, as, again, unassuming protagonist guy. I did give him sharper teeth, though, as burgundy bloods are the only caste with dull teeth, and I also fixed up his hair a bit. His name comes from a combination of "John" and "June" because I am a fan of both, and again, his last name remains the same.

Dirk Strider: The ties between Dirk and Equius are unavoidable, of course Dirk is going to be indigo. His horn is taken from his trollsona. His name is just "Dirk" but fancier and longer.

Rose Lalonde: Violet because of the horrorterrors. Took her original trollsona and gave it piercings because she's simply too goth not to. I also changed up her original dress a bit, made it more vibrant and closer to violet. Her name follows Roxy's pattern, but now with a closed consonant to end it off.

Jane Crocker: If you didn't think I was going to make her fuschia, you don't understand the depths of my autism. Her entire family line is fuschia, what other color COULD I make her?? Her trollsona is so baked into her appearance here, alongside her crockertier form. Still, Jane is butch in my heart of hearts, so she got to wear a suit instead of a dress (taken from Dave's sprites) and her pair of shorts and slippers(?). Her name is taken from her friend's nickname for her, "Janey".

[ameetoe]

Hello! I really love the designs for you magical girl OCs! I was wondering if you had any advice or tips for designing anything similar? I've been struggling with the designs for my own characters and was curious. Only if it's okay, of course! ^^

thank you!! honestly just looking at aesthetics, popular magical girl designs, and wedding dresses helps me with designs.

for ezzy, i knew i wanted something super sugary, girly, and little more modern so i looked at a lot of precure and ballgown dresses. i wanted to mess with a two piece outfit, and i feel like i always use an overskirt kind of thing in design bc they're cute.

i definitely wanted indigo to be the complete opposite to make ezzy jealous, and i used to really like ouji fashion in middle school so i wanted to nod to that. this was like the 3rd iteration of indigo's outfit that i ended up settling on and made her braid spikier as i kept drawing her.

[tb3ih]

A TEST OF ANGUISH (pt. 4), kamisato ayato/reader

SYNOPSIS… they love is not for the weak of heart OR KAMISATO AYATO has more buried in his rib cage than he lets on. 

⋆   warnings, kamisato ayato & fem-presenting!reader, a smidge of confrontation, pain pain pain. ⋆   notes, ayato is actually an allusion to my ex lmaooo.

⋆ tags! @kiyoomiwo @hotgirlshit5 @kunikuzushisbeloved @iamnotobsessed @lightoftheamethyst @xiaosonlybeloved @jcrml @kireeen @isotofl @iiyumii @neverlandlostchild @lumpywolf @mrs-heelshire @nickey-diano @irisxiel @esthelily @chiisananingen @goodsoup101 @the-real-fandom-person @whatamidoing89 @ayatoslovelywife @lorkai @bambambunny @i-3at-kidz @kyauyumira @pineapplesneedrights @atlas-rin @hyunromi @simplyhumanlol

YOUR fingers are gentle as you thread them through sora’s hair, carefully threading the strands together until it’s a braided crown of blue. you’ve just finished tucking in the last bits of hair into her braid when you see the coloring; it’s faint, but her light blue has begun to shift to a deeper indigo at her roots. 

“okaasan, am i pretty yet?” her light indigo irises are fixed on you through the reflecting vanity mirror. sora had sensed your halt in motion, her smile innocent and inquiring. 

you bring an easy smile to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair before reassuring her. “you have always been the most beautiful to me.” your hands move to adjust to the collar of her formal dress, the light purple blossoms peeking out just over her shoulders. you had this dress made just before you left the kamisato estate, hopeful that she might be able to wear it during summer festivities rather than a trial between two dominant clans. 

a reality which you seem to be so detached from as of late. 

it had been a couple months since you’ve moved out of your old residence, a decision you made in the best interest of you and your daughter, and yet you can’t help the strange welling in your heart at the thought of having to set foot inside once more. 

a house once full of unity, now harboring distrust and tension, you had no choice to bring sora back to it. as the sole heir to the hayashi matriarch and the only child of the head of the yashiro commission, sora could not be absent. 

“sora,” you begin, “i just want you to know… that, uhm…” there’s a lump in your throat and something tickles at your tear ducts. your daughter turns to face you on her chair, her smaller hands coming to cup around your face as her expression fills with worry. “i’m alright, flower, no need to worry.” you bring a hand to place on hers, thumb rubbing softly against the back of her hand in comfort.

“after today, if somethings don’t go the way i planned,” you explain, “i don’t want you to think for even a second that i don’t love you. not ever.” the thought of having to give her up had been tormenting you the past few weeks after the elders had brought into question succession for both clans with the continuance of a divorce. 

between the yashiro commission and the hayashi clan, there was only one legitimate heir. and you’re sure everyone who was anyone in the room would want a claim to your sora. 

“everything will be alright as long as i’m with mama,” sora replies quietly, offering a soft smile. there was absolutely nothing you wouldn’t do for this little girl. 

you press a soft kiss to her forehead. “let’s hope that never changes.”

holding her hand in yours, the two of you leave the room, making it down the hall to the grand room where the most important meetings are held. the few elders which had gathered outside the door lower their gazes and bow, offering you their respects. The guards outside the door stand in position of salute, only moving back to a position of attention when you nod. 

there are whispers among the few which you pass on your way towards the doors, their voices hushed but not quiet enough for you to miss. 

“a pity the yashiro commission has to incur such a loss over a petty issue,” one criticizes. 

“you’d think as a matriarch she’d be more understanding and mature,” the other replies. “it seems ridiculous to stage such a trial between clans, no?”

sora looks up at you with confusion in her eyes, and you simply bring a soft smile to your face, shaking your head in dismissal. “you pay them no mind, flower.” you stop just before the doors, your free hand coming to signal to the door keepers. “vermin who mooch off of their diluted family ties hold no opinion in the court of nobility.”

there are some hushed gasps behind you and you see your daughter giggle, the doors coming to open before you to reveal a larger room of gathering nobles. directly in front of you at the grand table, kamisato ayato sits beside his younger sister, an image of placid indifference reflected in his figure. 

the elders seated in the room took to their feet, offering a bow of acknowledgement as you approached the room. ayato was delayed in his response, standing moments later and offering a deep bow. 

you bowed in response, sinking deeply before returning back to your full height. Akane appeared at your side at once, ushering sora to the side seats where she could sit but remain in proximity to you. 

“matriarch of the hayashi clan, i, kamisato ayato, head of the kamisato clan, greet you humbly. regardless of the outcome, i wish all good intentions during this trial.” his voice is smooth and courteous, but void of any emotion, yet another twist to the knife in your heart. 

“i, hayashi y/n, head of the hayashi clan, wish you well in this fair trial and hope you accept the ruling without protest,” you reply, smile soft and polite. 

you see his jaw tick at this, a feeling of satisfaction settling deep in your bones. 

when the doors open one final time, it is everyone’s turn to bow, for the raiden shogun comes waltzing in, voice calm and level when she asks, “shall we get started then?”

"SHE was born on the kamisato estate, by natural laws she is the kamisato clan’s right!” an elder at the table, whom you recognize to be one of the most senior among those gathered from the opposing party. she only ever liked the number on the profit amount your marriage brought her. “this is inarguably–”

one of the elders from your side stands from his chair, violet eyes seething at the remark. “inarguable? it was not in the contractual agreement!” 

the air is tense with anger, confusion, and stubbornness, all of which you remain aware of yet quiet. your eyes are trained on your husband, his eyes also never leaving yours since the moment the both of you sat down. 

it isn’t until the raiden shogun speaks do the two of you avert your eyes to her. “why are the lot of you discussing the little girl as if she’s a mere object? Have you any respect for the child?” her violet eyes are narrowed and gaze is pointed, as if to pierce straight through anyone who might answer her conjecture incorrectly. 

“n-no, almighty s-shogun–” 

another elder stands, trembling before the archon. “please, we didn’t mean any insolence–”

“and yet,” raiden continues, “i have yet to hear anything remotely negotiable in the past two hours i’ve been stuck sitting in this chair. tell me, have you any idea what the girl is like? taken the time to understand who sora is?”

at this, ayato flinches, the question itself more indirectly intended for him. 

“it is true that by natural law sora is entitled to the kamisato clan,” raiden begins, the faces of all those in favor of the aforementioned clan lighting up in delight, “but after further examination of the justification for the divorce, it would seem that she is, inarguably, the rightful heir to the hayashi clan.”

protest begins to break out amongst the elders and you feel the heat clawing at the back of your throat, the tickle of electricity in the air as everyone begins to overwhelm you. before you can react, there is a burst of blue, water form the shape of blades pointed at every elder in the room. 

“all of you, hush!” it is your husband, hands clenched on the table and expression tight with rage. “had it not been for any of you, we would never be in this mess to begin with!”

the room is silent but for the ticking of the clock. his words ring through your head, a mixture of confusion and anger swirling in the pit of your stomach. 

“the elders?” your voice is just barely a whisper. “i spent nearly a decade wasting away in a loveless marriage and you want to blame the elders?!” 

your husbands eyes are wide when they meet yours, his mouth open as if his words were not meant to be his. 

you laugh coldly. “i knew you were a low creature, but i had never thought you to be pathetic enough to continue blaming everyone but yourself–”

“i do blame myself! i am the only one i blame!” ayato’s eyes are a mix of desperate blue and you’re not sure what to think of it. “i sleep alone and walk past empty rooms where you and sora used to play. i sit at an empty table where we used to eat. i waste away in a home of ghost and absent memories, do not tell me that i do not blame myself!”

“then where were you?” you think he’s unbelievable. “where. were. you? i brought her into this world alone. she received her vision without you. her first summer festival, without you. archons, ayato! where were you?!”

“i thought you hated me!”

“you’re the one who told me we were married for politics!”

“because i wanted you to hurt!”

“why?”

“because i love you!” he is huffing and attempting to catching his breath. he runs his hands through his hair frustratedly, looking around at the room of eyes all on him. lowering his voice, he continues, “from the moment i met you, i loved you, and i have never felt like i was enough and thought of bringing you anything but happiness did terrible things to me.”

you swallow the lump inn your throat. “so you abandoned me?”

he can’t meet your eyes. “i felt if you were too close, you might discover the worst of me. that maybe if you–”

“no. no, ayato, don’t be cruel,” you interrupt, shaking your head. You will not hear any of this. you stand from your chair, a look of anguish on your face when you meet those beautiful cerulean irises. “you have no right to say that.” 

he stands too, hand almost reaching towards you. “my dearest–”

“no!” your voice cracks and you pick up the skirt of your dress, back up towards the doors which you came in. “you can curse at me, insult me, do your worst, but you have no right to plead your love to me!”

sora stands from her chair and comes running to you, her small hands clasping at yours. you gather her in your arms, ordering the guards to open the doors. you turn to face your husband who, having rushed from the other side of the table, stands just meters away from you. 

“you are a cruel man, kamisato ayato.” your eyes are sharp with hatred, your expression twisted with pain. you bow in acknowledgement to the raiden shogun, who nods back. you meet the gazes of all the elders in the room before replying, “this trial is over, i will hear no more of your grievances.”

and you turn and run. you escape. you leave with sora in your arms your past on your tail.

because love shouldn’t hurt. it shouldn’t.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 5 (coming soon!)

© tb3ih mmxxiv all rights reserved.

[kuni-is-daddy]

I'm going to ignore all of my shame and ask for a yandere Scaramouche with a female darling

Where he uses a vibrator on her and orgasm denies her

Yandere scaramouche x female reader

Lord Sixth.

Tw: Scara is manipulative, Threats etc.

Ft:// 0rgsm denial,toyplay, Degrading, M8ing press, Scara scummy a bit

Word count: 1.5k. ScaraMasterlist

CW: Minors do not interact past the cut! This is a nsfw post!

When you first met and truly fell in love he was able to read you like a book. Knowing everything about you and even putting a ring on your finger. It was unnecessary to him though, Something redundant as marriage never mattered. Once he set his eyes on you..Once you embraced him, He already claimed you as his own. But archons- Hearing lord 11th and her majesty pestering him over it was irritating. So, he brought it up to you, his once naive and beautiful s/o. A direct confession you gladly said yes to. Even tucking away his hat to give him a kiss on his toxic lips.

He pushed you against the wall, squeezing your throat as you irked out through your pained neck. The puppet looked down towards the ground after hearing a clink. His smirk instantly turned into a bored expression as his eyebrows relaxed. He expected you to bring it, A small knife that was stolen from the kitchen. After all..The walls do have ears. Anything you've ever done suspicious would send the maids and fatui flocking to him like sheep reporting on your every move. So when you entered his room, unknowingly greeted by his half-dressed form; You froze up at the sight of his scars and markings. With you pinned, he looked down on you. E/c eyes we're filled with tears and mouth gasping for air. He didnt know whether it was from fear or out of hatred yet didnt care. He knew they'd always and only be for him. Validating him and his delirious actions. At the thought of it, He let go of your throat while you fell to your knees. Then laughed at a joke only he could understand.

If you weren't sure he lost all the trust he's given you, you definitely were now. "If your going to kill me, just make it fast...Please." you mumbled. The puppet stopped laughing after your words, raising an eyebrow. "Kill you? Why would i?" He kneeled down, an action he only gave you privilege to see. His eyes we're pure indigo yet still glowing purple through his pupils and red eyeliner, While the strings on his shorts we're barely tightened. "Is that what you truly want darling?" He picked up the small knife, Twirling the handle through his fingers. Your 'husband', Lord sixth. Never made empty promises...or threats. Intrusive thoughts began poking around in your mind; Would he really do it? Would he finally let me go? but you shook your head, choosing your words wisely. "No...It isn-" "Properly." "N-no..Kunikuzushi." He thinly smiled at your answer then tilted his head closer, Your lips almost touched But to your surprise he pulled away and instead held your chin up. "If I wasn't so in lov- interested in you, I would've inflamed you beside your village. Consider yourself lucky y/n. You have a vow..no..many to uphold to me."

He stopped kneeling; turning his back towards you and walked to the bedside counter. With his attention away from you, you stumbled up and walked towards the door thinking he let you go. "But dont think I'll let you off so easily this time." Scara's voice echo'd throughout the silence "but i-" "You heard what i said, now come here. I shouldn't have to explain myself to you further." His hand smacked on the counter, the ring on his finger made a soft clinking noise along the wood. You looked away from the door and walked towards him, It wasnt locked. Instead, It creeped open a bit as the cool palace breeze entered. You could just try run...Again, But that would just have you back at square one. Tied within his strings as if you were the puppet.

--

You laid on your back on the bed while his frame towered over his. The small ray of moonlight flashing through the window made the puppet ironically look like an angel. Scara's bored expression shifted a bit at your obedience, he loosened the knot in his shorts slightly. As if it was instincts, you then propped your legs up, pulling your skirt up slightly and he immediately brushed his fingertip along your thigh. A spark of electro emitted and you bit back a moan. "You really are getting out of your league, aren't you?" he sighed. "You dont deserve to be fucked yet. Not after that pathetic trick of yours..." "B-but scara you-" He ignored your plead and parted your thighs. You moaned silently as his pale fingers itched over the smooth cotton liner hiding your slit, "huh..look how wet you are, and I've barely touched you...to think Mear minutes ago you wanted me dead."

He bit his bottom lip, restraining himself from pouncing on your 'pathetic state' while your hips began bucking at his touch already. You couldn't stand it, not anymore. As many times as you've touched yourself only he was able to make you feel good, only he was able to make you reach your limit. And archons did he take advantage that. "Hah. What a joke." Scara slid his hands under the sowing and roughly pulled your lingerie off. He Tossed them onto the floor then pulled away to retrieve something out his pants pocket. "S-Scara~ what are you-" suddenly he straddled you by your hips, pulling you closer towards the edge of the bed then leaned down until he was face to face with your glistening slit. Click click "To think my wife could be so pathetic..like a filthy dog in heat." "S-scara! im not Mmn!~" He quickly put the toy inside, watching as your walls clenched around it. "Hm? Your not what?" He reached into his pocket for the remote, waiting for you to part your lips. "Im not flith- AH!" you quickly covered your mouth while your thighs twitched from the toy. "Oh really darling~? Huh...but down here says otherwise, doesn't it?" Scara moved his bangs a bit out his hair and licked along your clit "Mnh~ Scara~!" you bit into your skin, biting back moans hard enough you swore they drew blood. "So why don't you..mm~ be a good girl for me and beg?" You nodded your head, letting go of the little bit of dignity you had, in return scara merely smirked. "If only you were always this obedient, it would've saved you Alot of heartbreaks darling." Scara's tongue swirled along your bud while his other hand pressed tightly onto the remote, Making sure the buzzing sensation inside you never stopped.

Your voice began pitching higher and higher. You we're close. "S-scara! Please~! Let me cum! I-ah i cant~!" A satisfied groan left his lips while you begged. As much as he was enjoying himself, You still had a punishment afterall. Scara pulled away, Licking up Your pre juices while you whined at the Sudden slow buzzing of the toy inside of you. He was growing impatient, He needed more, He needed to hear you- "Kuni!~ no~! wait~! please~" 'kuni' At the use of his 'favorite' nickname he practically snapped, tilting his head to remember the word you said. "Again." You blinked out of your gaze. "Wha-" "Say it, Darling." He slapped your thigh and you shuddered in pleasure. "Ah! K-kuni...? Please fuc~" He moved his hands to your pussy again, slowly scissoring your insides while pulling the vibrator out. "hnh...Please fuck me kuni~i'll be a good girl~ just for you~ I promise!" 'Liar' He thought, But god was he enjoying this. Your hips jerked back along his fingers. The remote and toy we're now hanging on the side of the bed, while he freed his aching length with his other hand. He began fisting himself roughly, letting out panting breathes you haven't heard in a long time. When he wasnt going through his usual irritated 'mood swings' his soul purpose was to dominate you with his sadism.

"Move." He said sternly and you did as if it was instincts again. You moved back into the center of the bed, Head rested on a pillow while you heard the string pull on his garments. "Hmn..Dont you dare get quiet. Do you understand?" You shivered at his words and nodded. His tip pressed softly against your enterance, The puppet was already twitching from the contant. "Wrap your legs around me." You complied. and he immediately plunged himself inside you, You moaned loudly while scara hissed at your warmth. "Ah~ Ugh.~ thats it. Just like that.." He bucked his hips up and down, with every thrust his body smashed against yours. "Y-you ah~ You belong to me darling~ G-god your so tight." You gripped tight onto his back, digging your nails into his skin. "I-ah~ Kuni~!" Your tight walls began squeezing against his length, With a couple more thrusts you began shuddering for your already built up orgasm. "Hah~ You wanted this so bad didnt you? Bet you we're Mnh~ Planning for this a while weren't you?"

"So- take it y/n. Hn- Take my seed as your reward like a good girl~!" Kuni bucked his hips hard with final thrust, Coming undone inside and filling you up deeply while soon after your own fluids gushed on his lower body.

Scara sat with you inside him for a matter of minutes, Making sure he painted your walls. He kissed your cheek softy. "Tell me." You calmed down from your high, eyes still a little droopy. "Tell me you love me." He held your hand, Palming your ring finger. Your heart swelled a bit. Did you love him? If you didnt, You would've took action as you planned earlier. Yet you didnt.

"I..I do love you." Unlike your usual silence, It didnt speak for you this time. A part of you still loved him.

a/n- I felt a bit unsatisfied with my past yan scara fics, I know yall enjoyed them, Especially the Jirai kai/kei series but I wanted to try my hand at yan scara again! Regardless thank you for reading and good luck on your future pulls! Furina HERE I COME