#my sweet trauma-bonding

[keyslox]

GRAAAA THEM HI I LOVE THEM

[theluckiestlb]

as a self-identified adrienette girlie....kinda miss them, ngl.

[taviokapudding]

You know who my favorite duo to play as in Genshin?

The "Dottore is a lucky mf we didn't chose violence & got varying degrees of therapy" duo

I really hope they do meet because for similar backstories, it's surprising they didn't met or overlap in canon.

Also the dynamic of their friendship would be pretty endearing & a lot of Sumeru needs dendro, which anemo can't resonate with.

[mushroom-for-art]

I ran so fast lmao, reverse Pip belongs to @blues-sues once more!

Not so different

Mud and grit rubbed against his fur and skin uncomfortably in a way that made his skin crawl, the texture was unpleasant for him, though he was thankful he hadn't gotten too much of the mud in his wounds let alone his eyes. He felt his eyelid twitch in discomfort at the thought of it. A wet cloth didn't bring much comfort especially with the cold water it brought but it cleaned him off, slowly but surely.

Her aura flickered faintly in waves and rolls dancing and fading from his psychic sight, he didn't know the name of the color of her shape but it didn't look like the others, it felt fuzzy and softer making him feel a bit more safe and comfortable. The clean water splashed in its bucket as she dipped a new piece of fabric in, wringing it off and wiping away more of the mud he was coated in, the texture of grit on her own fingertips was unpleasant but she continues on, faintly they could hear others talking arguing about something that didn't concern them right now and he'd found he was getting a lot better at tuning out background noises even with his hearing being heightened.

Water droplets slid down his arm falling off of him into the sopping wet ground beneath, Muddy Water had certainly done its job. His head twitched and jerked as he felt a water droplet forming on his temple slowly sliding down to his eye sockets head twitching uncomfortably trying to shake it off, he wanted to paw at his face but his hands were still filthy and being cleaned off he could put grit in his sockets, the thought of a water droplet pooling in his eyes caused his twitching to increase.

He stilled feeling a hand move to his shoulder, water droplet still threateningly moving as his brow furrowed before a dry towel brushed past the side of his face slowly and gently up to his horn, and then it passed over his forehead collecting up the offending water droplet and any more moisture and then against the other side of his face to his horn on that side, his fur still felt moist but the thick droplets of water were gone and his anxiety began to lessen. It was a simple act but, used to having his discomforts being ignored it did bring a rush of relief.

He felt the wet cloth carefully return to cleaning off his arm of the persistent mud, cleaning the back of his hand and fingers. He swallowed quietly in thought, mouth opening and shutting again with barely a hum or croak.

".....tha….aank…" channeling his inner thoughts to be outer thoughts was harder than he had thought it would be, he could feel his temple already beginning to ache from the strain of projecting his speech, "yooouuu," it was something of a breathy exhale despite not being pushed through his lungs, he couldn't even recognise his own voice but it should have been enough. Judging by the stilling of her hand he must have heard her and it wasn't for naught.

Unfortunately he could not see the smile nor the mouthed "you're welcome," before she returned to cleaning off his hand cleaning grit from between his fingers gently. His mouth twitched awkwardly and he felt his eyebrows furrowing as he wondered why she wasn't responding to him, was he not really worth it?

As she cleaned his hand the frown on his face was noticed, as was the subtle attempt to pull his hand away from her wanting to pull away and just dunk the clean water over himself and hope that it got the dirt off and he could be alone. He felt her squeeze his digits gently and he stilled just a little as he frowned to himself before she moved his hand which was strange. He allowed it though. His damp digits made contact with skin. She was warm as she put his fingers carefully to her throat she could feel his knuckles under her chin, he wasn't sure what to make of it until he detected the texture difference.

Without her guide his finger tips traced up and down a small section of her throat feeling over the scarred tissue compared to the unscarred tissue, he stopped on the scar tissue slowly feeling across one way and then feeling across the other feeling the size of the scar. He pulled his hand away slowly and touched his fingertip to his own neck feeling the scarring there before moving to put his fingers back, attempting to find her scar again and with some guidance his fingers bumped against her scarred tissue once more.

She couldn't talk either, just like him except humans don't have telepathy. He tilted his head a bit as he stared forward without seeing as though looking at her, her hands took his and moved his touch away but he felt her softly pat the back of his hand and she squeezed his hand with hers once more and this time he didn't feel as though it was a weak attempt of crushing his hand bones. There was a quiet moment as she held his hand squeezing it softly with hers, the warmth seeming to travel up his arm through him before returning with a slosh of clean water and cloth to clean the mud from his person as it still uncomfortable caked his chest and other arm.

[kennyomegasweave]

I don't want Chopper to kill his dad. I want the bitch dead, of course, but I don't want Chopper to be the one to do it. Because that's still his dad. We don't know shit about his mom, so I'm guessing that's his only parent. He owes his shitty dad nothing, but the trauma of killing your only parent? Even when they suck major ass? I think it would break him and I don't want that for my sweet boy.

I hope it's Nueng, tbh. But as long as that man dies, I'm good.

[meru-nilaya]

guy: hello yes I'm your average kollywood mass/masala movie hero. yes i have beef with my parents because I'm not good enough for them and never reach their standards. yes my love life is very sad and difficult to start because i've only ever dated this one girl in my entire life. yes i have like 100,000,000 guy friends though. also I'm a dissapointment to my family but eventually I get accepted by everyone i care about for who I am.

me: idk that's kinda gay dude

[im-immortal]

sneak peek: untitled Americanized 28 Days Later bethyl fic

“HELLO?!”

And once again, Beth was met with nothing but dreadful silence.

She heaved a sigh and began trekking up the seventh set of stairs, her thighs aching and her legs heavy. Daryl made a frustrated sound and passed by her, murmuring under his breath so she couldn’t decipher his words as he took the lead towards the next landing. She followed numbly.

What if there wasn’t anything at all waiting for them at the top? What if he’d been right all along, and all they ended up finding was another empty apartment? Or a sight similar to her dad’s bedroom back at the farm? Had she really fought so hard just to waste their time chasing after something that was too good to be true?

Did it even matter, though? Was it truly wasting time when everything else they did every single day was nothing more than killing time? Was it any worse than sleeping in an abandoned Journeys night after night and trekking through the same empty streets day after day?

At least she’d know. At least she could say she’d fucking tried.

And then, halfway up the ninth set of stairs with Daryl half a staircase ahead of her, an ominous sound reached their ears. It echoed through the stairwell, reverberating loudly throughout the lobby below.

The screams of the infected. The messy and clustered shuffling of feet, immediately followed by the clang and clatter of multiple hands against metal—bodies upon bodies shoving and forcing their way through, clambering desperately over the mountain of shopping carts. Metal clashing against metal as the giant obstacle slowly disentangled and fell apart. Heavy, purposeful footsteps hitting the stairs. Climbing up and up. Straight towards Beth and Daryl.

They both recognized it at the same time, and Daryl whipped his head around to meet her gaze with the same wide-eyed look of shock that was surely mirrored on her own face. She spared no more than a second to glance over the railing of the stairs, down towards the way they’d come—she could already see the shadowed forms of several infected racing up the stairs, screaming and flailing their arms, outreached for something they could only smell and hear.

“Fuck!” Daryl cursed, picking up speed as he climbed the stairs ahead of her.

“Oh shit, oh shit,” Beth gasped out, forcing herself to climb the stairs after him even faster, desperate to catch up. Her legs were already burning and aching from the climb.

But she could hear the infected barely three floors below, trailing behind and rapidly catching up. Their feet pounded loudly on the stairs, their wails echoing throughout the entire building. The adrenaline kicked in and she sped up, but it was no use.

She was still an entire staircase behind Daryl, and he was only climbing quicker and quicker. Without her.

She glanced back over her shoulder as she reached the eleventh landing and, to her horror, saw the first of the infected leading the pack, rounding the corner at the landing just two floors below—eyes red, face covered in blood, legs pumping. She looked forward again and saw Daryl further ahead. He hadn’t even spared her a glance backward.

“Daryl—wait!” She cried out. “Wait for me! Please! Please! Don’t leave me!”

His only response was, “C’mon! Hurry up!”

Her legs pumped harder, pushing her up the stairs and after him. Another staircase. Then another. And still, another after that. When would it end? Would they ever be safe?

She could hear the infected gaining on her, so much faster than she could ever be, their screams growing louder, their footsteps growing closer.

Was Daryl going to leave her behind? Was he really going to sacrifice her for his own safety?

Could she really blame him if he did?

[teddylupin]

.

[charlottesweetly]

how have i been hung up on the same guy for like 10 months smfh

[oscill4te]

Venting to the void of the internet.. im at a loss. I keep wanting to make bad choices. I keep wanting to revisit this bad person even though logically it will just make my mental health worse. The only thing that stops me is how disappointed my best friend would be if i stooped that low.

[willyoustillcallmesuperman]

"the truth is, I gave my heart away a long time ago and I never really got it back"

I'm not sure if that is exactly the words spoken, but I think it's pretty close. Sweet Home Alabama, the movie that I can't watch without thinking of you.

"Who meets their soul mate when they are 10 years old?"

There are so many words spoken. My heart thinks of you so much yet my mind, I feel as though I just can't go back.

I know you would die for me if you had to. I know that you would move mountains for me. After all this time, I know you would still do everything you could to just make me smile. You have proved this to me so many times. Why then, why can I not accept the love you have to offer me? Why do I stay here, by myself?

The fear takes over every part of me. The things that had been done that were so ugly and evil that can't be undone or unsaid.

You and I, we have reached a point where we understand why those things were said. We don't question our behaviors because we know they were defenses that we chose to react with when we were hurting.

The trouble is, those that love us, our family, our friends, everyone, they don't know that you and I have these monsters inside us. They don't understand them. To those we love, we would never be right.

You don't care.

You continue to fight.

I fight too. I fight the desires to talk to you all day long and to call when I am sad or when I am awake in the middle of the night and questioning my existence.

"why do you want to marry me anyway?"

"So I can kiss you anytime I want"

I want that love in my life. I want someone that wants to kiss me. I want someone that wants to kiss me even when I wake up in the morning with my darn awful morning breath.

I know all of this, all of this love that I want so much, I know you would give this to me. You will always be the person that loves me more than any other person ever could.

We weren't 10 years old, I think maybe we were 8 or 9...

Who meets their soulmate when they are in the 4th grade anyway?

[cassaloopa]

I love thinking about the fact that when you romance Astarion, like, actually start to romance him, you don’t have sex with him. At all. And it comes up in other interactions later on, like if you get propositioned by Halsin, Astarion checks if his lack of participation is a factor in your consideration? And if you mess with Mizora, similar thing. So it’s clear that since he confessed his true feelings, that part of your relationship pauses, as he requested. Because he’s got trauma and needs a gentle loving space to work through that to be intimate in a healthy way that doesn’t repulse him or taint your bond.

And I love that he gets that narrative because it’s such a rare option for a masculine character to experience sexual abuse and trauma and be allowed a chance to work through and heal from it. Especially if they’re young and gorgeous and virile like he is. He’s only 39 at his death/turning, he was so young, and Cazador treats him like a boy in so many ways while simultaneously using his adult sex appeal as a lure and a weapon to control him and destroy other lives through his body. It’s such an integral part of his abusive enslavement and I appreciate that choice for his story rather than a simple one of monstrous violence, murder, etc which is a more common trope for male characters.

So he’s coming from that place, and then he meets you and his default setting is to fuck you to secure his safety, his worth in your eyes. But if you show him true love and care, he starts to see a way to return that which is something he’s never been able to do before, but the sex complicates it suddenly. And you can just back off from it, give him the space he needs, make him feel safe to trust love and security isn’t bound to what he can offer you physically. It’s not bound to his body, his functions. It’s his personhood that you desire, his essence without strings attached, and he gets to learn that and trust it and grow it without pressure or judgement. Even the times after where you ask to kiss him feel so sweet, to check in with him on such a simple act of intimacy, where he gets his autonomy to consent.

And then, at the end of his storyline in the graveyard, when he’s reclaiming his life in symbolic and literal ways, that’s when he feels the most safe and in love with you, trusts you the most to care for him completely, and that’s when he initiates physicality again. And I just fucking love that for him. So much.

As a person who’s struggled with physical intimacy and learning I could have boundaries and need to take my time with stuff and my partner wouldn’t abandon me over it? Would stay even if I couldn’t promise to ever fulfill that part of our relationship again? The safety of that reassurance is everything, and it helps you find a way back to your body again, to loving it and wanting to share it with another. Because you get to choose when and how and anything offered is received with pure gratitude and admiration. And I love that Astarion gets that chance because he deserves to heal and feel whole again, to live fully without barriers. And you get to help him find that. It’s beautiful.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

obsessive love

words: 2.1k

warnings: 18+ only!!!, smut!!!, MURDER!!!, SERIAL KILLER!RAFE, PSYCHO!RAFE but sweet with reader, best friends to lover, DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOOD AND STABBING, physical violence, psycho!reader as well!, romanticization/sexualization of murder?, mentions of stalking (in the past), road head, blowjob, p in v sex, semi public sex, rafe beating up your dates tehe, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (advisement to take caution and heed warnings! ty)

rafe is only half paying attention as the movie plays out on the screen. he’s far more focused on the way you’re tucked into him, squealing every time a jumpscare happens and ducking your head into his chest with a wide smile on your face.

it’s not unusual for you to get touchy with him, to cuddle in bed after a day together or hold hands when in a crowd. but lately rafe has found it difficult to not take things further. he has loved you since first grade. not had a crush on like some people like to say. no, rafe only knows deep, obsessive love for you.

it’s why you barely dated anyone high school, rafe was always there to beat your date up and make sure they didn’t reveal it was him. afterall, you’re his best friend. he just wants you to be happy. happy and with him. no one else deserves you, or can protect you the way he can, go to the extreme lengths rafe will.

rafe realized he was in deep shit when he was stalking one of your dates that he wasn’t able to get to. he dropped you off on your front porch and had the audacity to kiss you. rafe exploded the second you were inside. you found your date a bleeding and bruised pulp still on your doorstep the next morning.

“its not even that scary.” rafe chuckles, teasing you as you grip onto his forearm.

“yes it is!” you love getting scared. it’s what you often say is your worst feature. you may scream your head off at horror movies, but you’ll still drag rafe along to haunted houses come halloween and stay up late binging your favorite thrillers with a smile on your face despite the chills down your spine.

rafe forces himself to pay attention to the last couple minutes of the movie. its entertaining enough to distract him from wanting to pull you closer to him, to never let you go, to always keep you by his side where you're safe and happy.

an idea forms in rafes head as he watches the two characters finally kill the serial killer that had murdered all of their friends and tried to go after them. he watches the way they embrace, relief on their faces as they kiss, bonded together forever from the shared trauma.

rafe smiles as you ask him if he’s up for another movie, purposely navigating you to one involving an in love couple and people getting mysteriously murdered in their small town. rafe knows what he’s going to do to keep you close, to play into your fear and need for him.

--

“holy shit!” you grab the remote, unmuting the tv. you would apologize for using the language in front of wheezie, but she has just a bad of mouth as you do, and very little supervision now that ward is dead and rose fled with what little money she had left.

you both watch the news report on the edge of your seat, the anchor giving details on the recent murder in kildare. it’s a boy you went to school with, but haven’t spoken to since graduation. when the anchor begins to go over details of the murder, you click the tv off.

“hey!” wheezie argues, scrunching her brow as she looks at you, but you just shake your head. “you don’t need to be watching that kind of stuff, wheeze.”

you stand up to find rafe, eyes glancing around nervously, as if whoever murdered the boy could be lurking inside tanneyhill. you don’t realize that the murderer is just the man you want to see.

“rafe, oh my god!” you cry out when you round the corner to find him walking down the hallway. you fling your arms around his shoulders. he’s shocked for only a second before pulling you in, holding you by your waist as the words spill from your mouth, recounting the news to him.

“oh, that’s terrible.” he frowns, hand gliding up and down your back. “you better stay the night tonight, yeah?” he offers. it’s hours away from dark, but you certainly don’t want to venture home after hearing the news.

“yeah, if you don’t mind.” you feel your cheeks blush slightly, knowing you’ll end up sharing a bed with rafe as always.

“i never mind.” he smiles at you.

--

you wrap your arms around yourself as you watch the news report. the third murder in just under a month just took place last night. you lean against rafe, who presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“i can’t believe we knew all three people killed.” they weren’t particular gruesome deaths, most just a couple stabs with a sharp knife and leaving them to bleed out, there was no passion in the murder itself, no torturing or postmortem injuries.

“i know, it’s scary.” rafe is glad you can’t see the smile on his face. you already spent most nights anyways, but now you’re over more and more, only feeling safe when you have rafes arms around you. it makes it a little hard for him to slip away, but he finds the time.

“and not the fun kind of scary.” you pout. “although…” you trail off, almost like you didn’t mean to say it.

“although what?” rafe questions. 

you sit up a little straighter, wiping your hands on your pants. “it’s a little exciting, isn’t it?” you admit. “that makes me sick, doesn’t it?”

rafe shakes his head, pulling away slightly to see your big innocent eyes blinking up at him as you continue to explain. “obviously it’s terrible these people are dead but… god, it’s exhilarating!” your words switch to rambling as you finally get your feelings out. “like the thrill of knowing there’s someone out there killing people, it just makes me feel so alive! as long as i don’t get killed or anyone close to me-”

“i won’t kill you.” rafe says the words to stop your rambling, not even realizing his slip up. “i won’t let you get killed.” he quickly corrects himself.

“i know.” you look rafe up and down. he can tell when your face shifts into one of sheer concentration, mind slowly piecing the puzzle together. rafe needs to do something now before it all comes together.

he could scream or yell for wheezie or… rafe leans in and presses his lips against yours, mouths molding together. you hesitate for a moment before kissing back, much to rafes relief.

“i won’t let you get killed because i love you.” rafe says, hand cupping your jaw to bring you in for another kiss.

“oh, rafe.” you coo, smooching all across his face before landing on his lips again. “i love you too!”

--

it’s harder now that you’re moved in. you went from spending most nights in rafes bed to making tanneyhill your home as well, cuddling and kissing every night until you’re off to sleep.

he doesn’t need to kill as much now anyways, besides he’s got most of the boys from high school who looked at you a little too hard in your shorts for gym class, or said lude things about you when you weren’t around.

you’re well and truly his, but rafe can’t help himself. he loves the way you hide in his arms when a murder happens, how you kiss him deeply and tell him you love him so much, how you’re so glad that something good came out of something terrible and that you’re together now.

rafe waits until you’re fast asleep before slipping his arm out from under you. he grabs the knife from the back of his closet before heading out. he just needs someone. to stab and maim someone. it’s been months since the serial killers last appearance, and people are starting to relax again, including you, even asking if rafe minded if you went out with your girlfriends without him.

rafe does what he needs to do. he doesn’t enjoy the act itself, but he doesn’t dislike the feeling after either. he walks back into the house, knife bloody but wiped off on the victims own clothes as to not drip all over the house as he sneaks in.

his footsteps pause when he sees you standing there, robe wrapped around your shoulders. he knows you see it. he knows you know everything.

“baby, please don’t leave me i-”

“can i come with you next time?” 

“what?” your question shocks rafe, his voice raising before glancing up the stairs to make sure he didn’t wake wheezie.

“next time you kill someone. will you take me with you?” you ask, glancing at the knife, hating the rush you feel over your whole body when seeing it. it’s the last confirmation you needed for what you have been suspecting.

“i-baby, i don’t need to kill anymore. i’ll stop, it was just-”

“no.” you shake your head. “rafe, i don’t care. you can keep doing it. it’s… exciting.” you’re not ashamed this time when admitting it. you used to be worried about the murders but now you know there’s truly no need. rafe would never hurt you.

“okay.” he swallows, stepping closer, glad that you don’t turn away as you accept a kiss pressed to your lips. “okay, i’ll bring you next time.”

--

“shit, that was exciting!” you squeal, smiling as you turn to rafe. “seeing the life drain out of his eyes? and god, you were so hot when you stabbed him!”

“baby, you sound crazy.” rafe chuckles, easily gliding the car around the turns of the backroads, heading back towards home.

“rafe, you are a literal serial killer, i don’t think you should lecture me on sounding crazy.” you giggle, not even tired despite the late hour from all the adrenaline. “and god, you looked so hot stabbing that guy.”

you reach over and run your fingers down his forearm, remembering the way his muscles bulged and stretch when swinging the knife. your hand moves from rubbing his arm to his thigh, only pretending that your movements are innocent for a minute before you slide your hand up to his crotch, rubbing at his length, feeling it harden in his pants.

“baby-” rafe groans, eyes flicking between you, your hand, and the road in front of him illuminated by his headlights.

“just keep driving, it's okay.” you unbuckle so you can lean across the center console, lips pressing against his neck, tongue darting out to taste his skin.

you tug at the front of his sweatpants, rafe lifting his hips to assist you as the car engine roars. you grip his cock, teeth running over his jaw teasingly, never biting down as you stroke him eagerly, wanting to thank him for continuing his killing spree, for starting it for you and allowing you to take part.

“let me suck you off.” you gather your hair to one side, fucking your head until you're bent sideways. you hold rafes cock with one hand at his base while your lips sink down around the head, moaning at the familiar taste on your lips.

“fuck.” rafe swerves slightly, glad there's no one else on the road as you suck and lick at him, not caring that you're dripping spit down your chin from your movements.

“lemme pull over baby.” rafe says. he knows how much you like the excitement, the rare possibility someone could drive by, but he needs you hop0ing on his dick.

“fiiiine.” you say dramatically, going right back to sucking him off until rafe pulls on a dirt road. you work your shorts and panties off so the second the car is shifted into park, you swing your legs over to straddle rafe.

“shit, you're so wet.” rafe groans as you rub his cock through your folds.

“i told you.” you smirk at rafe. “you looked so hot killing that guy.”

you sink down before rafe can reply. 

the murders shift from rafe doing them in secret to make you rely on him, to force you closer, to something you do together, you often doing the planning while rafe finishes the task with violence.

you barely get back to the car before you jump on him, needing to feel his fingertips digging into your hips while he fucks ever, even if there are still specks of blood on him.

you know you won't get caught. no one would expect the former troubled teen turned happily domesticated man, raising his little sister after his father's death with his faithful girlfriend, to be the one behind the violence.

you see no reason to stop as rafe wipes his knife clean for what feels like the hundredth time.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut

[sunderwight]

Bingqiu AU where SY and LBH grow up as childhood friends (idk maybe they're both at QJP but Shen Jiu is less of an asshole, or maybe SY transmigrates into Random Village Bully Child No.3 when Binghe's mom is still alive -- or both) and there's none of the tension of the idea of "one day Luo Binghe is going to rip my limbs off" for Shen Yuan.

So he and LBH can just be bros! Fantastic! Shen Yuan has never had a little brother before but he's had a little sister, he knows how to do this. Just spoil the cute kid rotten!

It's only fair compensation for how many terrible things LBH is gonna have to endure on the road to ruling the world, after all. SY also feels more freedom to change minor aspects of the plot around, too, like maybe he'll stop Liu Qingge from dying, definitely he can help LBH get a better start to his cultivation journey, and maybe the abyss and xin mo thing doesn't really need to happen...?

The list of things SY considers meddling with ends up including wives.

Like really, come on now, Luo Binghe may be a stallion protagonist but there's no need for that many women. Especially when at least half of them are just increasingly cheap copies of the other half, and that's being generous about it. Some of PIDW Binghe's wives were, frankly, horrible people. And if he's being honest about it, it wasn't fair of Binghe himself to take on that many either. Even if anyone would naturally give their left arm to be the protagonist's wife, after a certain point Binghe just can't spend that much time actually with them! And then he can't form the kinds of deep and meaningful bonds which might actually help heal his trauma!

SY's not looking to interfere too much, of course. Ning Yingying is not his favorite wife, but she's fine. She causes trouble but it isn't on purpose, and she's genuinely sweet and willing to befriend Binghe before he's anything special (although even now, it's obvious Binghe is special). Ning Yingying can stay.

And of course, so can Best Wife Liu Mingyan.

But Sha Hualing? Well, she offers some political advantages, and as the demon wives go she's not the worst. She's kind of iconic and was very popular, but Shen Yuan thinks the harem could do without her scheming and malicious attitude towards the other wives. The cost of harmony was too high for the political bonuses offered, especially when Binghe might as well just take her ancestral lands by force and be done with it. He's going to advise against that match.

And the Qin sisters. Sure there's the legendary threesome, but Wanrong's dead weight and it never struck SY quite right how Qin Wanyue pressured Luo Binghe into sex. The threesome wasn't even good anyway.

Better Qin Wanyue than the Little Palace Mistress on that front, though. But aish, that's complicated, the Palace Mistress is even more politically vital to securing HHP than Sha Hualing is for her father's kingdom, and almost as bad for the peace and harmony of the harem. Ultimately SY will leave it up to Binghe, but if Binghe asks, he's going to advise against the Huan Hua wives too.

With thoughts like this in mind, SY starts talking to Binghe about how to establish a household, what to look for in a spouse (or twenty), and other topics of that nature. What sort of household Luo Binghe ought to strive to have, and what sorts of standards he should himself to. Also while of course assuring him that Shen Yuan isn't interested in women. Lest he worry that Shen Yuan might be trying to steal any of the wives from him, at any point. He's not competition!

SY: I am helping to pave the way for Binghe to have better marital relationships! I am the best big brother slash best buddy ever! don't worry, no matter what happens to Binghe, this gege will be your no.1 cheerleader forever!

LBH: is he saying I should get a palace if I want to marry him? well... that sounds reasonable. ok, I will do it! (•̀ ω •́)✧

[blackbirdie1234]

Paul's Imprint

What being Paul’s imprint would be like.

A/N: Not proofread. Hope you guys enjoy this and let me know if you would like me to do the other pack members or the Cullens(what being their mates/bloodsingers would be like). I really appreciate all of the likes and reposts! Thank you all so much and I am glad you like my fics :)

Being Paul’s imprint would require A LOT of patience.

He has a soft spot for you, so his anger wouldn’t be taken out on you or directed much toward you, but that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t see his bad side. When someone in the pack pisses him off he usually gets upset and phases. They fight it out, and then he comes home. He is either still upset or wants serious attention. If it’s the former expect some attitude and him taking it out on basically everything else but you. He might be aggressive with things, slamming things down and being loud. You would probably need to give him some time to cool off some more before trying to comfort him. If it’s the latter then you will have to have a cuddle session, his favorite position is laying in the bed or couch with his head in your chest and you playing with his hair and talking about your day. Your voice soothes him and calms him down, so he likes it when you talk to him. He could care less what you talk about, you could tell him about your day, or how much you hate that one girl in your math class because she chews gum loudly, you could literally talk about anything and he would be content. 

Being Paul’s imprint means a lot of love and affection.

When he isn’t on patrol, he is with you. He will be on you and hugging you all of the time. Now if you have trauma with affection or just don't like to be touched he would 100% respect your boundaries, but he would try and find small ways to show and get affection. Like holding your hand or even just touching his pinky against yours when you are next to each other. He would find ways that wouldn’t make you uncomfortable and was still getting his needs met. He doesn’t mind showing his affection in front of others either, he could give less of a fuck if the pack teases him. He loves you and doesn’t care who knows it. At the beginning of your relationship, he was very careful, learning what you liked and what you disliked. He was also very subtle with his affection but he still craved it just as much as he does now. He would softly play with the hair on the back of your head while talking by the fire, small and soft touches here and there, he would DEFINITELY do that thing where guys softly touch your waist while moving behind you.

Being Paul's imprint means you would spend a lot of time with the other imprints.

You would probably be close with the other imprints. Having a werewolf boyfriend isn’t exactly normal. You might feel alone or lost a bit in the beginning. Paul was one of the first to phase, which means you most likely were also one of the first imprints. Especially if you knew Paul before the transition. Emily was one of the first imprints you met, she was so sweet and welcoming to you, and your bond turned into a sibling relationship. She treated you like family right away and made sure you knew that you were always welcome. You met the others as they became a part of the family and now you spend a lot of your time with them. You do a bunch of group things together, shopping, baking, cooking, movie nights, and of course bonfires. You all enjoy each other's company. The boys are on patrol a lot and it helps everyone get their minds off of missing them. 

Being Paul’s imprint means late-night texts and calls.

Again, the boys are on patrol any time of the day or night. When Paul takes the night shift he makes sure to update you and let you know that he is safe. He is also expecting the same from you. He misses your voice, especially when your schedule gets busy and you can’t see each other as much. Sometimes he’s able to slip away for a second to see you, give you a hug and a kiss and then he is back out patrolling. He does it more often if he is patrolling near your house, mainly so he can do it quickly before Sam notices that he is missing and makes him come back.

Being Paul’s imprint means he is VERY protective of you.

He is already a protective person, it doesn’t matter if it is his friend, family, or even a stranger. He will take a bullet for someone he doesn’t know, it’s just in his nature. For you on the other hand, he would take that bullet and then hunt the person who shot it down until they beg you for forgiveness for even daring to THINK about hurting you, all the while he is still bloody and hurt. His protectiveness also correlates with his jealousy. He is a very jealous person when he is in a relationship. Even though you are his imprint he still can’t help but let the green-eyed monster loose whenever another person hits on you or checks you out. He knew you were hot, but you were for his eyes only. Being a werewolf means having to control your anger, but Paul was never really good at that, so most of the time it was you who had to calm him down. You didn’t want your boyfriend to maul someone, especially not in public. You were the only person who could calm him down fully, you would reach for him with your soft touch and everything else would fade away. Sometimes all you had to do was give him a stern look and he would cool himself off not wanting to make you upset. It bothered you sometimes how angry he would get, you tell him all the time that he is the only one for you and he has nothing to worry about but he still lets his jealousy get in the way of reasoning. 

[shadowdaddies]

How about a drabble of Cass and Az touching their mate’s wings for the first time. Maybe she has more sensitive wings than the average Illyrian? I love your writing 💖💖

this was so sweet, thank you for the request 💜 it has some angst that I couldn't avoid since it's a female Illyrian, but it's overall very fluffy and lovely

New Memories

Azriel x Reader x Cassian

warnings: mentions of past trauma (attempted wing clipping), light smut (wing play)

“Hi, sweetheart,” Cassian greeted, his rough voice soothing as you padded towards the bed where your mates lay. 

Azriel’s eyes glowed with appreciation at the sight of you in your nightgown, the short lacy fabric leaving nothing to the imagination. 

“Did you have a good day?” Azriel hummed, moving over to one side of the bed as he lifted the covers to help you crawl between the two males. 

Settling into the bed, you sighed at the feeling of soft pillows cradling your neck, the proximity to your mates and the warmth of the comforter sending resounding peace through your tired bones.

“It was very good,” you murmured, head leaning against Cassian’s shoulder while your hand reached to hold Azriel’s. Cassian set down the book he’d been reading, putting it aside in favor of wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

A calloused fingertip brushed the tip of your wing, sending you into shock as you jumped out of both your mates’ hold. Cassian instantly shot to his feet, and you turned to see wide hazel eyes glassy with barely contained emotion.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to... I was trying to put my arm around you, sweetheart. I promise,” Cassian breathed, strong arms folded across himself in shame. 

His guilt and pain reverberated through the bond with dizzying force, the emotions so strong it nearly broke your heart. Opening your mouth to speak, Azriel chimed in from behind you first.

“Hey,” the shadowsinger cooed, voice gentle as he refrained from touching you in favor of sending a cool shadow to brush your arm. “Are you okay? Talk to us.”

Inhaling a deep breath, you tried willing yourself to calm, but once your eyes were closed, memories of the last - and only - time your wings had been touched flashed through your mind. Your older brothers holding you down, your father gathering the tools to clip your wings. Your screams ringing through Windhaven in a desperate plea for the Mother to have mercy on you.

The last thing you remembered was a flashing of blue and red light, raw power shaking the foundations of your home as you were swept into familiar arms. It was the watershed moment of your life - the most important, the most harrowing, the most blessed - when your mates found you.

You’d never allowed anyone to touch your wings in the months since then. It was an act only associated with pain and suffering for you. But the feeling of Cassian’s hand, so gentle and tender against your body, brought you to a realization.

You looked up at Azriel, giving him a gentle smile as you reached back out for his hand. Turning to where Cassian stood, you let your feelings flow down the bond - the pain, the trauma, and the softness and hope you felt from him.

“Come here, Cass,” you whispered, patting the bed where he had been just moments before. You sat up against the headboard, bringing both of your mates into sight as you took a deep breath. 

“I would like for you to touch my wings,” you announced, voice shaking from nerves. Cassian’s guilty expression did not let up, Azriel’s own face showing concern that propelled you to continue. “The only memories I have of my wings being touched are by those who didn’t love or respect me. I want to change that. I don’t want to give them the power of being the only ones to touch such a valuable part of me.”

You took each of their hands in your own, sitting up to let your wings fully flare open behind you. “I want those memories to belong with the males I love, so while I would like to go slowly... It would mean the world to me, if you would show me how wings are meant to be touched.”

“Oh, angel,” Azriel purred, eyes darkening as his shadows danced. “You are meant to be worshipped. Every part of you.”

You flushed under his intense presence, averting your gaze to Cassian to find the other Illyrian male eyeing you just as hungrily. 

“You are a goddess,” he whispered, almost more to himself than to you. Tucking a long onyx strand behind his ear, Cassian moved closer to you, he and Azriel moving in sync like practiced warriors.

Your wings twitched behind you, butterflies fluttering in your stomach with anticipation. Shadows slipped over the edges of Azriel’s shoulders, skating soothing motions over your arms and legs, twining in your hair. 

“You tell us if you are, at any moment, uncomfortable,” he spoke, the shadowsinger’s low voice like gravel.

You nodded frantically, nerves quickly turning to excitement as you felt the warmth emanating from Cassian’s hand at the tip of your wing. His eyes locked on yours as his fingertip met the outside, barely-there soft touch dragging down the edge.

An abrupt moan escaped your lips, catching you by surprise as your back arched dramatically. “Fuck,” you breathed, the sensations shooting straight to your core.

You heard a low chuckle to your other side, Azriel’s breath tickling your other wing. His eyes flicked to Cassian. “She’s sensitive,” he purred, and both males turned to smirk at you in a way that sent heat pooling between your legs.

Azriel’s scarred fingertip settled on your talon, testing the waters with barely restrained desire. You held his gaze, allowing the pleasure to show on your face as he slid down the prominent vein inside of your wing. 

Soft moans echoed through the air, and you slumped against the cushions, wings spread beneath you as your mates took turns bringing new forms of pleasure to you. A familiar coil began to tighten in your abdomen, and your gaze flicked to Azriel in shock, only to find him looking down at you with pure male satisfaction.

“Yes,” he answered your silent question. “You can finish if your wings are touched the right way.”

Cassian growled lowly next to you, his arousal prominent from where he sat on the bed. “Would you like that? To finish like this?”

Breath escaped you, all-consuming need distracting you from everything else in the world. Managing a nod, you barely registered their warmth breath as both males drew closer to you. 

Wet tongues flicked out together against each of your talons, Azriel and Cassian working in a dance to hit each sensitive spot with flawless expertise. Slick grew between your legs, your body writhing on the sheets as their soft touches and warmth flooded your senses.

You crashed into your high almost too quickly, head tilted back as you moaned curses and praises incoherently. Heart pounding, you came down from your orgasm to feel Azriel’s hand holding your own, calloused thumb stroking the back of it.

“How do you feel, love?” Cassian murmured, settling in next to you to press a kiss to your temple. The tenderness with which they held you, the comfort unlike which you had ever known, the love you felt down the bond - everything hit you at once, and tears sprang in your eyes.

Before Cassian could pull away again, you reached your hand out for him, pulling both the general and Az toward you in a warm embrace. “They’re happy tears, Cass,” you assured him through your sniffling laughter.

They seemed to understand, not pushing further questions as both males settled back into their spots on either side of you, arms wrapping around your waist as the three of you settled to sleep. How peaceful it was to be touched so tenderly, to be touched by those you love.