#sword catcher ask

[thebellekeys]

As you said in a post about Conor and Kel, “Does anyone really want to see Kel and Conor turn on each other ... The inherent toxicity in there is so appealing to me.” Just want to say, yeah, same. I'm all for a messy fight and then a brotherly hug, in the end.

I'd just really rather have it based on everything that's been going on between them, including the “one day there will be something of yours he wants badly enough to betray you for it. And you will hate him then. Hate him enough to wish him dead” warning but not over a girl; not over Conor finding out Kel and Lin kissed, not because Conor got jealous, etc. etc. Misunderstandings and toxicity would be great to read based on anything else (secrets) but not over a girl (Lin). I also think it'd be interesting if Antonetta (another girl, yeah) ended up being the one creating mistrust and misunderstandings between Kel and Conor, though I don't really see it happening, just a probability in my head.

But do please elaborate on what you had in mind when you said that. Would love to know how you think the toxicity might go boom 🙈

What I had in mind was a kind of Victor and Eli situation from VE Schwab’s “Vicious”, mwahaha. I want to see them full on exploit the intimacy between them to the fullest as they turn on each other, each for semi-valid reasons.

I can see Kel coming to resent Conor for all the power he’s had over him his whole life and Conor’s general irresponsibility. And I can see Conor coming to be envious of Kel’s freedom as a “nobody” and resentful of Kel trying to build a life outside of the Hill. If Conor finds out Kel is working with the Ragpicker King, that could be a possible catalyst for this.

That being said, while I just love the animosity and toxicity, I want them to make up in the end. Mostly. I mean, my Shakespeare-loving ass loves doomed tragedies and ruptured bonds. But I know Cassie doesn’t love that, lol, and so it’d be nice to see how they could reconcile after Krakatoa.

[gracecarstairss]

thinking about how Mayesh is the mirror for the Ashkar people - being human in the eyes of House Aurelian means that they think all Ashkar are human. He protects them all in this way, ensuring that the Sault will be safe and that what happened in Malgasi (murdering all Ashkar) will not happen in Castellane.

this also applies to Kel, in a way. Kel is the person Conor loves/cares for above all others, yet he is a common citizen of Castellane - technically, the lowest possible class, since Kel is an orphan without a significant name, and family names are the most important source of power in Castellane. therefore, Kel is the mirror for the common people of Castellane - although he is considered an object/property in the eyes of nearly all of House Aurelian, being human in the eyes of Conor, the person who will one day be King, shows the future ruler that the people he rules are actual PEOPLE, not just subjects to use and manipulate to the ruler's liking. in this way, Kel protects the commoners of Castellane, which is so interesting. we see him do this multiple times in Sword Catcher when he is trying to instill empathy in Conor for others, including Lin (when Kel talks sense into Conor and and says "do you want her to be afraid of you?" which really hits Conor hard because he doesn't realize the full scope of his power and the fact that he uses it carelessly).

and what makes this more insane is the way that Mayesh doesn't even see Kel as a human, just an object, even though they serve similar important purposes for their respective classes. on my third read of Sword Catcher, I really honed in on the way that Mayesh treats Kel, and he really does not treat him as a damn human being!!! it's so awful. the hypocrisy of Mayesh is so wild, he is such an interesting character because of all his contradictions. anyways i'm so unwell about this!!!

[fairdale]

guys!! please let´s talk about shadowhunters, sword catcher and books in general!! you can leave questions or opinions in my ask box and i'd answer. i love to chat so pls don't be shy. i wanna share opinions with youuuu

[bookishjules]

What are your thoughts on the Kel x Antonetta ship in sword catcher? 😊❤️

oh babe so many. from the moment kel sat down next to her at that first dinner, i've been soso intrigued by them. i think that's the difference between them and conlin tbh like i've been projecting the trajectory of that relationship since the beginning, but while i def nosedived straight into shipping kel with antonetta in the fucking prologue, they've really kept me guessing! there were times when i kinda drew back from their ship, but that was erased every time they were in a room together. bc kel is obsessed and so am i.

they are both just SUCH intriguing characters with their secrets and their masks and it's exactly what makes them perfect for each other imo. each sees through the other's exterior, but not far enough to know anything close to the truth and that's just so dsahflkj like i'm desperate for them to know things about the other that no one else does and for that to tie them together in some way that leads to romance (bc i feel like that's the only order in which that will be able to happen given the circumstances)

oh and don't even get me started on that grass ring??? i died. i died. i am a little worried that.. well given the theory that ana is actually prosper beck.. that she only had kel steal the locket so that he would find that and that would allow her to manipulate him in some way.. but that doesn't mean the love can't also be there hehe

i just can't get over the way kel kisses people as a distraction and a way to focus. and like not always in a good way. like what did merren say after he kissed him? about using him. but the conscious effort it takes kel to hold himself back from ana.. the way he'll kiss anyone but her.. i just.. o<-<

anyway i love them and their dynamic. also antonetta is an icon and i need to know simply everything about her, which means i need kel to do the finding out <3

[rinadragomir]

Um... who am I supposed to ship with who in sword catcher???????

Only god knows

Conor and Lin will probably fuck

Conor and Kel probably fucked

Kel probably fucked anything that breathes

The Ragpicker King.... please fuck me

[edwin-paynes-bowtie]

Also side question-

I rated The Sword Catcher a solid 6.5/10 rating. It felt like a very slow moving fantasy novel (which is fine! I love slow moving hello ROTE?) but none of the characters gripped or compelled me as much as other ones in TLH or SHC.

What do you think went 'wrong' with Sword Catcher? What do you think could go better? Who do you ship and what do you think CC could improve with Ragpicker King ?

I think Sword Catcher was an objectively extremely strong book. I'd have given it 4 stars if pressed, though I know it's actually a 5-star read. So, with that said, I don't think there was anything wrong with Sword Catcher at all.

I think the reason that more character-driven people like us were less compelled by it is simply that most of the book went to world-building and story setup. Which is fine, and makes more than enough sense for a high fantasy novel! But I - and I suspect you - wanted the same immediate character-driven type of story that TSC offers us, and instead we got... exactly what was advertised. The first book of a high fantasy series was of course going to go to setup.

This is a case of "that wasn't exactly what I wanted/got my hopes up for, but it's not a flaw in the book."

I don't really think therefore that there's anything for Cassie to improve beyond "let the series move forward." The world's established now - she can start playing with it and toying with the characters to develop them. They already have fairly strong bases.

I'm already really interested in Conor and Lin, both individually and together. I also think the entire Ragpicker King group is super cool and want to see where that plotline goes.

[kaitcreates]

I feel so undeniably sorry for kel wtf. The power imbalance between him and conor breaks my heart. And don't get me wrong, I know that conor cares about kel --kel is probably the person he cares about the most-- but he does so much indirect damage to kel. It's insane istfg

I know right! There relationship is built off such a toxic mindset from Conor and especially Kel. They were both raised to believe that Kel was expendable to an extent and his job was to die for Conor, and even if Conor doesn’t fully believe that it’s still apart of his mindset even just subconsciously.

There relationship is so interesting and I just can not wait to see what happens to them as the books go on.

[just-like-aerin]

have you seen any good movies or read any good books lately?

I don't watch a ton of movies, but I did see a documentary recently called The Search for General Tso about like, the history and origins of American Chinese food and like, what it even means to be "traditional". Been thinking of checking out The Iron Claw because that particular wrestling history story is fascinating to me, as well as Blue Giant and Gridman World, which I don't think there's a (legal) way to watch yet.

As for books, I've really enjoyed Legends & Lattes and its prequel Bookshops & Bonedust. Fantasy stories with a super chill slice of life bend. I've got a massive novel called Sword Catcher sitting on my shelf that I'm meaning to crack open but haven't started yet.

[livia-dovehallow]

seeing cassandra again tonight

everyone say thank you to my roommate who kindly agreed to drive me an hour away to go to this event even though she does not like any of the same books i do and has no idea who cc is

this time there's a meet n greet so who thinks i should remind cassandra that we're still waiting on the answer to what cecily and gideon's birthdays are????

[rcvcgers]

Batter Up!

18+ MINORS DNI

pairing: xavier x reader

synopsis: xavier shen is a college baseball star. when he loses a championship game & notices an opposing player make a move on his girlfriend, well, he needs to let out his frustration the only way he knows how.

word count: 6.5k words

content warnings: it gets smutty! oral (m receiving), fingering, poor reader's puss gets slapped, spanking, reader's hands get tied, batting gloves as a gag, unprotected p in v sex (PLEASE WRAP IT UP FOR THE LOVE OF GOD), cream pie, they almost get caught, xavier's lowkey a lil mean in this, semi-public sex lmk if i missed anything

author's note: hi! wow! so this is a thing i wrote! first time i'm posting a smut one shot so ......... go easy on me! i hope y'all enjoy !

main masterlist ~ ao3 link

The bases are loaded. Xavier Shen is up to bat. He stands off to the side, tightening his white baseball gloves. The crowd erupts into cheers when the stadium plays his walk up song, one that he chose specifically for you.

“Ladies and gentleman, we are in the bottom of the ninth inning! With two outs on the board and down by one run, how will the Philos Phantoms catch up?” the announcer’s voice booms throughout the stadium.

“Through Lumiere, of course!” the co-announcer proclaims. The stadium goes crazy. People chant his nickname from the crowd, everyone now standing from their seats.

Xavier casually walks up to the home plate. His metal bat, which is white in color with streaks of shimmering silvers and golds, swings around in the air. The tall baseball player nods his head at the umpire, ignoring the catcher’s ugly glare.

Xavier fixes his helmet on his head, pushing away the silver locks underneath the hardened plastic. He settles into the batter’s box, giving his sword a swing or two, hitting it against his dirtied cleats.

His blue eyes cut through the environment, scanning the crowd for you.

You stand behind his team’s dugout, always the closest seat to him with the best view of when he comes back to the dugout. Whenever he comes back from scoring a home run or striking out, you always smile and wave, blowing him an encouraging kiss.

Right now, though, you stand with your hands folded as if you are praying, eyes fixated on him. He smiles at you, a sense of warm flooding your bodies. His nerves slightly calm down. You take a deep breath, Xavier miming your actions, and remove your hands from your mouth.

Earlier in the day, Xavier kept you trapped in bed. He laid his head on your stomach, pressing gentle kisses to your skin. You ran your fingers through his silver hair and hummed along with the tune of a song.

“Are you nervous?” you ask him, gently pushing the hair off of his forehead. His blue eyes meet yours. Xavier shakes his head and buries his face back into your stomach, his nose pushing into your body. “It’s okay to be nervous.”

“I’m not,” his breath is hot against your skin and his voice is muffled. You roll your eyes and laugh. His head immediately pokes up, the man now sitting up on his knees. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re cute! That’s all,” you giggle some more.

Xavier lets out a ‘hmph’ and slowly lowers himself back down on top of your body. This time, he places his head on your chest, his ear right over your heart. He silently listens to your heartbeat. Each and every beat is like a melody that makes him feel whole again. You smooth his hair and sigh, lifting his head so he looks at you.

“It’s just like any other game, baby,” you coo and cup his cheek. He leans his cheek into your touch, “treat it as such. You’re going to do great.”

Your words ring true in his ears, his heartbeat finally slowing.

“You got this,” you mouth to him, “I love you!”

Xavier nods with a smile. Turning away from you, he settles into the batter’s box, fists tightly grasping his baseball bat. Xavier closes his eyes, the bat settling on his shoulder.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, hold, breathe out.

The man opens his eyes. He drowns out the crowd’s chants and cheers, his eyes focusing on the pitcher in front of him.

The pitcher winds up. He lifts his knee into the air, arm slowly swinging back before he launches the small white ball forward.

Xavier’s cleats nestle into the dirt, the spikes on the bottom of his shoes gripping into the red earth below him. His cheeks puff up as he releases a breath, his hands squeezing the small cylinder of the handle. He swings his arms from one side to the other. His metal bat slices through the air. The baseball connects with the center of the barrel; the metal bat dents in the process.

CRACK!

The baseball soars into the night sky. Xavier immediately drops the bat, his blue eyes never leaving the white dot, and begins to jog towards first base.

The crowd sucks in a breath. A low vibration fills the inside of the stadium, a slight rumble overtaking the crowd as the ball grows closer and closer to the edge of the fence.

Xavier is halfway to first base when the ball begins to descend in the air. The ball’s trajectory is like an optical illusion, teetering on being a home run or being caught by the outfielder chasing it. The baseball drops. It’s like it hit a wall and is now plummeting towards the outfielder.

Your heart drops in your chest. Xavier’s run slows, blue eyes tracking the ball before it is caught in the player’s glove. His foot connects with first base. He comes to a full stop and turns to look at you. Your eyes gloss over, hands covering the lower half of your face as the opposing team’s fans jump from all around the stadium.

“Xavier,” you breathe his name out as if he is able to hear it. A silent plea and comfort that it is going to be okay, that this year’s championship simply wasn’t meant to be.

He turns away from you, shame and embarrassment filling his body. His helmet slips off his head, running his gloved hand through his silver locks. Xavier slowly walks through the field, which is being flooded with reporters and parents. Girlfriends of the winning players brush past him with their arms wide open, a celebration that he was supposed to be having with you at this time.

Your eyes follow Xavier’s body. He doesn’t even look at you as he vanishes under the dugout’s ceiling. A slow, long sigh leaves your body. You sit back down in your chair, wiping away bittersweet tears from your boyfriend’s loss.

You cannot even imagine how much pain and anguish Xavier must feel right now. Sure, the Philos Phantoms have won the championship for the past three years so a loss was inevitable, but the sting doesn’t hurt any less.

Your heart aches for Xavier. Its pumps are slow, longing for him to be in your arms so you can console him, to hold him in your arms so he can fall asleep knowing that this one loss will not define who he is or the kind of player he is.

The stadium slowly seeps out its crowd. It is now an empty arena with only a few stragglers left behind. You have remained in your seat, unable to move until you see his head of hair exit the dugout. You smile at familiar faces; parents and friends of Xavier’s teammates comfort you before they leave on their own, an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air.

You sigh and stand up, grabbing your purse. Without thinking, you make your way down the steps and towards the entrance that leads to the field. The metal fence, once a place that you and Xavier have celebrated many victories at, feels solemn now. Melancholic.

“Hey,” Xavier’s voice soothes your body. You frown at him, slowly pushing through the gate. “I’m sorry if I—”

You immediately pull Xavier into your arms. His head drop, chin resting on your shoulder as your fingers slide into his hair. He lets out a tired sigh and places his hands on your hips. He squeezes your body and pulls you closer to him, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“You played great today, baby,” you coo into his ear. You gently rub circles into the number on his back. He shakes his head refuting your claim. “You did, Xavier. You played your heart out! I am so proud of you!”

Xavier pulls his head away from your neck. His eyes are red, irritated from holding back tears. You cup his cheek and sigh, the pad of your thumb grazing against his cheekbone.

“It’ll be okay,” you try your best to soothe his nerves, flattering out the wrinkles of his uniform and flicking away any leftover specks of dirt. Xavier nods, a small yet tired smile spreading across his face.

“Can you wait for me out here? I need to grab my things,” Xavier’s voice is soft and gentle. He squeezes your sides. You nod at him, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“Take as long as you need to, baby, I will be here for you no matter what happens,” you respond, slowly allowing him to pull away from your body. You nod your head in the direction of the dugout, watching as he slowly sulks away and disappears once again.

A sigh leaves your mouth. You turn to face the field, always stunned by just how big of a playing field Xavier has been playing on. Even though his last hit of his collegiate career was an out, the amount of distance the ball went from his swing alone is nothing short of impressive.

Xavier took you to the college’s batting cages one time. You mentioned how you always wanted to learn how to hit after being to so many of his games and practices. He was more than happy to show you. He even let you use his bat, his hands on top of yours while he moves your body through the motions of a swing.

The memory still makes you giggle like the eighteen year old girl you once were. You’re now a senior in college, ready to graduate and take on the world with Xavier at your side. A small blush creeps up on your lips, a pool of heat gathering between your legs as the rest of the memory plays out in your head.

Xavier’s hands leave yours, placing themselves on your hips. He brings your body next to his. His hardened cock nestles into your ass, making itself at home through your thin clothes. You feel his calloused hands slide down your sides, leaning into you as you keep his baseball bat held up in the air.

“You’re perfect,” Xavier whispers into your ear. It sends chills down your spine. You turn to look at him, the bat wavering in your hands. “You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Xavier,” just you breathing out his name was enough of a push for him.

Xavier closes the distance, his lips crashing onto yours. The metal bat falls to the floor with a series of clangs. His breath intertwines with yours, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip, silently asking permission to go further. You nod and turn in his arms.

Xavier’s hunger and passion for you takes over his body. He picks you up with ease. His tongue slips into your mouth, the baseball player pressing you up against the wall.

You shudder at the thought, pressing your thighs together while your eyes are closed. Reaching up, you touch your lips and smile. You love Xavier so much. You would do anything for him.

“Hey, pretty lady,” an unfamiliar male voice takes you out of your thoughts. Chills run down your spine, the heat you once felt before immediately diminishing. You turn around and stare at a baseball player who was on the opposing team. His Skyhaven uniform makes you want to rip your hair out, hating how Xavier lost to a bunch of fucking losers. “Can I get your number?”

“Excuse me?” you ask, holding back a shocked laugh.

“Your number. I want it…please,” the player slowly inches his way closer to you. You take a step back and hug your arms around your chest, turning away from him.

The player doesn’t back off, though, and instead circles around you. He settles into the spot in front of you and clears his throat, hands on his hips.

“Leave me alone,” you groan with an eye roll. You avoid his beady eyes and look at the dark clouds in the sky, admiring the stars, quietly making a mental note to have Xavier look at them when he comes out.

“I can’t do that, sorry,” the player laughs, “not until I get you out of those colors and into mine.”

You raise an eyebrow and look down at your shirt. It’s Xavier’s away game jersey. The gray fabric is accented by a light blue color, his last name spread across your shoulder blades. It’s big on you, seeing how your boyfriend is an absolute beefcake, but you wear it as if his last name is your own.

And let’s be real…it practically is.

“I don’t think so,” you shake your head. You take a step backwards, hugging Xavier’s jersey closer to your body, “I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to be sorry. Just give me a chance!” the player continues to plead his case to you.

You shake your head and close your eyes, stepping backwards. One step follows another and the closer you get to Xavier’s dugout. The man persists while you remain an adamant no, trying to keep the distance between you two.

You gasp. Your back connects with something hard yet warm, something familiar. You open your eyes and notice a yellow star charm that hangs from the knob of a baseball bat. With one quick glance over your shoulder, you see Xavier’s darkened expression, his once bright blue eyes now shadowed from jealousy. 

His arm is outstretched over your shoulder, baseball bat in hand. The end of the metal bat is pressed against the opposing player’s chest. Xavier gives him a push and the gold star charm bounces back and forth.

“Get lost,” Xavier growls. The heat that you once felt between your legs forms once again. You lean into Xavier’s chest, feeling his free hand wrap around your body, resting itself over your jean shorts’ zipper. The tips of his fingers graze against the metal, teasing it and you at the same time.

“Alright, man, chill out,” the player rolls his eyes, holding his hands in the air, “I’ll be nice and not let you lose twice today.” He turns on his heel and heads for the gate where his friends wait for him, laughing and pointing at his poor attempt to get your number.

Something inside Xavier’s head snaps. He glares at his opponent, fire and bloodlust hidden behind his eyes. His lips twitch, a sudden wave of possessiveness and dominance crashing over him.

You turn in Xavier’s arm, his hand now resting on your ass. He’s out of his uniform and wears his tight training shirt and a pair of joggers. You press your hands against his chest, leaving in. The material of his shirt is so thin that you can feel his muscles flexing and then relaxing under your touch. His dark blue eyes focus on you right as the other man leaves his sight. He moves his hand around in circles, caressing your obnoxiously short jean shorts.

“Xavier,” you breathe out, anticipation budding from within you.

Xavier has always been so jealous, even when you deny the person who tries to ask you out. He knows that you are forever his, something that he wishes to make permanent soon, and that you will never leave him for anybody else.

“Come,” Xavier’s voice is sharp. His hand moves from your ass to your wrist, tightly squeezing it.

Without another word, he pulls you towards the dugout. You stumble from behind, unable to keep up with his lightning fast pace. Dirt and dust kick up from your combined steps. Xavier drops down the steps, quickly turning before you can step down.

He quickly grabs you in his arms, tossing you over his shoulder with ease. You gasp. With one arm wrapped around the back of your legs, keeping you in place. His other hand slides up and down the back of your thighs, moving up to your ass, his open palm sending shocks directly to your core.

Xavier carries you inside the empty locker room. A few lights remain on while the others are shut off, a few straggling people who stayed behind too distracted to notice Xavier carry you inside. He closes the door to the locker room behind him, a low grunt leaving his throat.

Xavier’s hand leaves your body, his warmth now leaving your body feeling ice cold. You begin to whine but instead squeal when Xavier’s hand roughly connects with your ass. He sits down at the bench in front of his locker, adjusting you so you’re leaned over his lap.

“Hands,” Xavier’s voice is low. You nod, body trembling from anticipation. Slowly, you move your hands behind your back. They are immediately brought together, Xavier’s hand moving quick as light as he fastens his belt around your wrists.

“X-Xav,” you shudder. Your panties are already soaked, his fingers gliding up and down your clothed entrance. “What if someone finds us?”

“Then they’ll know,” he slaps your ass again, the sound echoing inside the locker room, “that you’re mine.”

Your body trembles against his. His movements are so sure, determined in each and every move. He takes his time with you, feeling the now damp fabric that shields your entrance. You can barely nod, arousal overtaking your body. His dick hardens beneath you, your squirming around making him feel restless, unable to control himself.

“Say it,” Xavier leans down and growls into your ear. He brings his hand down once again, the stinging feeling seeping into your skin. 

“I-I’m yours!” you gasp when his hand connects with your backside again, unable to stile the moan that leaves your mouth.

The palm of Xavier’s hand is calloused from years of playing baseball. His slender fingers graze the back of your thigh and they leave goosebumps in their path. You close your eyes. You shudder beneath his touch, holding in a breath, waiting for his next spank.

But it doesn’t come.

Xavier’s fingers draw back up your legs, dipping between your thighs and behind the fabric of your soaked shorts. The light blue color is damp and it’s a sight for sore eyes. His fingertips slide up and down your clothed entrance, quiet whimpers leaving your mouth.

“Xav…baby please…” you breathe out, fighting against his belt, desperately wanting to touch and tease him as much as he is doing to you.

A gasp flies from your lips. Xavier brings you up and places you on your feet in front of him, hands still tied behind your back. He remains seated, his last name and jersey number painted into the wood of the locker. You clench your legs together. Xavier shakes his head and he taps your ankle with his foot. Knowing exactly what he wants, you spread your feet apart, legs already shaking from anticipation, watching as he removes his shirt from his body.

You salivate at the sight of his chiseled abs and toned body. His chest rises and falls with precise breaths, controlling his building lust towards you.

Xavier leans forward. He places his hand on the side of your thigh. He gently caresses your skin, being gentle as he takes his time with you. His blue eyes look up at you, connecting with a fiery gaze as his finger hooks into one of the loops on your shorts, pulling you closer to him. He hums to himself and tugs your shorts down your legs with ease. You kick them to the side and shudder when his fingers connect with the damp spot on your panties.

“I’ve had a long day today,” Xavier licks his lips. He presses into your clothed core, teasing you as your wetness coats his fingertips. You let out quiet whiners and bite your lip, trying to be as quiet as possible so nobody comes and finds you. “On your knees.”

You gulp and nod, immediately obeying his command. You kneel before him, trying to fight against the tight knot of his belt, and watch as he pushes down his gray joggers and boxers. His cock springs out, his tip already leaking and aching for you. You salivate at the sight. He kicks away the fabric and spreads his legs open.

His cock is big in his hand. He slowly strokes himself and you inch closer to him, a fire burning between your legs, trying so hard not to squeeze them together to give yourself some friction to make you feel good. Xavier reaches out and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you towards his aching cock.

He removes his hand from his length and lets out a groan while he watches you take in every inch of his dick. The tip of his cock presses the back of your throat and your nose touches his body. You look up at him with teary eyes. He slowly draws your head back, air finally returning to your lungs, before moving your head right back down his length.

Your tongue massages the underside of his dick. Your saliva spreads across his skin, your mouth feeling empty as you pull your head back. Xavier groans and his grip on your hair tightens. Your tongue swirls over his throbbing tip, sucking on it before he slams your head back down onto him.

You begin to hum and the vibrations make Xavier lose his grip on your head. He rolls his head back and the room is filled with his breathy groans and grunts. You bob your head back and forth, taking your time with Xavier, making sure to lick and suck his sensitive tip before taking the entirety of his cock back into your mouth and throat. Your tongue memorizes the veins, sucking in when his tip is left in your mouth. You quicken your pace, wrists tugging against his leather belt, and look up at him with big doe eyes, knowing that it’ll drive him crazy. 

“Just like that baby,” his sweet praises fill the room. He looks down you, his cheeks a light pink color. A knot begins to form in his stomach, his release imminent. He grabs the back of your head, fingers gripping your hair. He pulls his dick out of your mouth with a pop and you’re left kneeling before him, breathless, ready for more.

Xavier helps you up and is quick to pull your panties off of your body. He tosses them into his locker where his backpack sits and turns you around. You sit on his lap, your legs sat between his, feeling his cock slide across your entrance, making himself at home.

Just not inside you.

Xavier reaches around your waist, hand dropping to your clit. He begins to rub slow and demanding circles into your clit. You moan and roll your head back, feeling Xavier attach his lips to the side of your neck. He bites down against your skin and unapologetically sucks, leaving dark purple and red marks in his wake.

You squirm on his lap and roll your hips back and forth, your entrance gliding back and forth along the length of his cock. Xavier grunts against your skin, hissing whenever you slide over his tip.

“Look at the door,” his voice is low and gravelly in your ear. You nod and open your eyes, hips jerking against his touch as his fingers grind into your clit. “You’re going to have to be a good girl for me and be quiet, okay?”

Xavier pushes your legs open, placing your heels on the sides of the bench. You fully lean into him, your pretty pussy now exposed to the room. He slips two fingers inside of you, curling them when they’re deep inside. You involuntarily clench around him, a sigh of ecstasy leaving your lips.

Without wasting another second, Xavier pumps his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace. Your mouth opens into an ‘o’ shape and no sounds come out of your mouth. His fingers hit all of the right spots. You whine when his fingers leave your core but are immediately overtaken by a surge of bliss when he begins to ruthlessly rub your clit. You moan his name and roll your hips back and forth, earning grunts from him as your ass slides back and forth over his cock.

Warm sensations take over your body. You hum and moan, slipping into a state of blossoming ecstasy. Xavier’s fingers feel so goos inside of you. Your hips roll to meet the heel of his hand, needy and desperate for more.

“Stay still,” he demands in your ear, sticking his fingers back inside of you. You gasp and a loud, breathy moan flees your mouth. Xavier bites down on your neck, marking the exposed skin while you squirm on his lap.

Your hips jerk against his touch, begging for more, but his fingers slip out of you. You whine, opening your mouth to complain when he shoves his fingers inside of your mouth. You taste your juices on his fingers, swirling your tongue around, lapping up every last bit while Xavier adjusts your body.

“I told you to stay still,” he growls into your ear.

You clench around nothing, your swollen clit aching against the cold air. Xavier removes his fingers from your mouth. His hand drops to your pussy, giving it a slap as punishment. You swallow a shriek, the sound getting trapped in your throat. You’re breathless, cheeks a bright pink color as rationality comes back into your mind for a split second.

He lines himself with your entrance and lowers you onto him. You take his cock so well, the stretch making you gasp and lean backwards and into his chest, head rolling onto his shoulder. He captures your lips in a fiery kiss. You moan into his mouth, feeling his tongue swipe over your bottom lip before pushing inside.

Your lips break when his fingers dig into your hips, slowly rising your body before pulling you back down onto him. His cock feels so good inside of your cunt. He fills you up perfectly, making sure to touch every crevice inside you. You bite your lip, trembling as you take over the responsibility of riding him.

His hands leave your waist and move to the buttons of his jersey. He unbuttons them one by one, revealing your covered chest to the room. Your heart skips a beat, the fear of being caught becoming more and more real by the second. He gropes your chest, the sound of your quiet moans and your bodies colliding filling in the room. He pushes your bra down your body. Your nipples immediately pebble against the cool AC, his thumbs pinching the sweet buds, rolling them between his thumb and index fingers.

Your tied up hands remain at the low of your back. You flex your fingers as your brain slowly becomes fried, the heat in your stomach now burning. Xavier leaves open mouthed kisses along your neck. He stares at his last name on the back of his jersey, groaning at the sight. An intensity forms inside his head, something snapping. He removes his hands from your breasts and plants them on your hips, lifting you off of him.

“X-Xav, please!” you whine, feeling so empty without him buried deep inside you. He turns you around and licks his lips, sitting back as far as he can while lowering you on his lap once again. Your knees sit on either side of his legs. Slowly, you sink onto his length with ease, the feeling of being stuffed making you happy.

“You’re mine,” his eyes latch onto yours, “no one else’s.”

You nod and lick your lips. His hands remain on your waist, slowly raising you up before you come crashing down on him. Xavier leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate and sloppy kiss. Your breaths and moans mingle together as you begin to bounce up and down on his lap.

The tip of his cock hits your sweet spot perfectly. Xavier’s lips leave yours, trailing kisses down your neck before making his way to your breasts. They’re oh so perfect to him, the way they bounce so beautifully. He takes one of his nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting on your flesh. The combination of his dick and mouth makes you see stars.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Xavier’s breath is hot against your sensitive nipple, making you cry out from pure pleasure.

Your cunt clenches around him, legs feeling tired as you continue your movements. You roll your head back, staring at the ceiling as the knot in your stomach feels like it is about to snap. He drags his tongue around your hardened nipple, looking up at you with a smirk as you slowly begin to fall apart on him.

One of Xavier’s hands move to your shoulders and fixes his jersey, making sure that is someone comes inside, they see his last name on your body, not theirs.

Your legs tremble, your body begging for a release. You try your best to stay quiet, your hushed curse words falling into Xavier’s ear. His hand snakes around to your back where your tied hands sit. With a few tugs, the belt falls to the ground. Your hands immediately attach to his shoulders, toned muscles flexing under your touch.

“Please, Xav, I-I’m so close,” you push the words out of your mouth, nails digging into Xavier’s skin. Your hands drop to his back. Your fingernails scrape his skin, leaving bright red lines down his back. He hisses and smacks your ass, making you cry out his name once again.

“Cum for me, love,” he grunts.

The blistering heat in your lower stomach bursts, overtaking your body as you cry out his name. Your head falls onto his shoulder, your moans and cries being absorbed into his skin. As you slow, Xavier pushes his hips up into yours. His movement is jerky, desperate to meet you in pure bliss. After a few more upward thrusts, Xavier coming right inside that pretty cunt of yours.

You take a deep breath, trying to regain some of your composure, and fully sink onto him, body limp as you lean into him. Thinking that your time with him is over, you lazily press kisses onto his neck and skin, praising him while he pumps you full of his semen.

Xavier lifts you off of him, his cock covered in your combined juices. You whine, allowing him to pick up your body with ease. You feel his cum drip out of your cunt, slowly rolling down the inside of your thighs.

He stands you on your feet, hands clasped around your wrists. He places your hands on the borders of his locker, your legs twitching as his semi-hard shaft grazes against the crevice of your ass. You draw in a breath, staring at the taped pictures of the two of you on the inside of his open locker.

You lean forward, knees pressed against the wooden bench that runs along the perimeter of the room. Xavier strokes his cock, staring at his name on your back. A smirk spreads across his lips. He closes the distance and opens your legs for him, dragging his swollen head across your puffy lips. He groans, dipping inside of your cunt. You let out a guttural moan, feeling the stretching sensations, Xavier’s dick finding places it hasn’t before.

“Gonna make for sure you get every last drop,” Xavier whispers into your ear, sending chills straight to your pussy, “gonna fuck it back into you.”

His thrusts are slow yet agonizingly deep. He pushes up his jersey so he can see your ass, dragging his calloused hands across the gentle and soft skin. He slaps it and you cry out, louder than you intended it to be. You freeze while he slams his hips into you, hitting your sweet spot.

“What did I say about being quiet? Hm?” Xavier’s tone is sharp.

He snaps his fingers at you, pointing to his batting gloves, a pair that you bought for him, that sit just on the inside of his backpack. You reach down, plucking them from their place and hand it to your boyfriend. He thrusts into you again. Tingling sensations overtake your skin and the inside of your body. He takes the gloves and balls them up, shoving them in your mouth as a makeshift gag.

You can taste remnants of the dirt from the field, the leftover sweat from the championship game. Your moans and whines are muffled by the fabric. Xavier’s hands move back to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. His touch is hard, dominating. You’ll probably have a few bruises there by the time you’re done.

“Be. Quiet,” Xavier demands. You nod, feeling him pick up the pace behind you.

He takes his time with you, though, keeping a steady pace despite him absolutely railing his cock into your cunt. Tears fill your eyes, a bit overstimulated since you just orgasmed a few moments ago. He slaps your ass and drags his hands up and down your body before his hand finds itself on your clit, teasing it.

Just outside the door, one of the facilities’ managers walks down the hall, clipboard in hand as he checks off his list. The sound of a slap catches his attention. He inches towards the locker room, one eyebrow raised as he cracks the door open.

“Hello?” he calls into the room.

You freeze. Your eyes shoot open and you stare at Xavier’s backpack, all sounds going silent. Xavier continues, though, and slows his pace. Each thrust dominates you, making your legs tremble as he pushes you closer and closer to another orgasm. A particularly loud moan escapes your mouth, escaping the confines of his batting gloves. Xavier glares at you, pinching your nipple, your back arching into his touch.

“Yeah?” Xavier calls out, his eyes remaining on your back. He traces a line along your spine, teasing you.

“Xavier? That you?” The door pushes open. Your cunt squeezes Xavier’s shaft, causing him to groan. “Is everything okay in there?”

“Yeah! Just getting changed. I think my girlfriend purposefully packed me small clothes. Everything is so tight,” his blue eyes burn into the back of your head. He reaches out and gathers your hair into his hand, yanking your head back, eyes meeting. Your eyes are glossy, tears ready to fall from embarrassment and arousal.

“Ah! Take your time then! We do need to close soon, though!” The door clicks shut and the two of you are free again.

Xavier tugs on your hair, back arching as you cry into his batting gloves. His thrusts quicken, becoming erratic as he pounds into you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, black spots taking over your vision. Xavier doesn’t let up. He continues, slamming his cock in and out of you, fully taking himself out just to slam into you once again. His touch is ruthless against your clit, feverishly rubbing it, giving it a slap here and there whenever you get too loud.

The sounds of him ramming into you bounce off of the walls. His gloves remain stuck in your mouth, biting into the fabric as the knot in your stomach tightens, ready to snap at any moment. Your cunt throbs in tiny spasms, ready to milk Xavier dry.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? You think you deserve it after being so loud?” Xavier grunts into your ear. He lets go of your hair and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. You nod feverishly. He takes the gloves out of your mouth, letting them fall to the ground. “You wanna be loud? Do you want everyone to hear how desperate you are? Or do you wanna fucking cum?”

“Cum!” you fumble over the word, listening as it comes out as a shuddered breath.

“Be a good girl and cum for me then,” his hand drops to your neck, fingers curling around your throat. He squeezes it, a silent threat that he’ll keep you here all night if he has to. You nod, closing your eyes as waves of pleasure crash throughout your body.

You come undone. Your second orgasm is just as riveting as the first, leaving your legs a trembling and shaking mess, ready to collapse at any given moment. You swallow your cries and quietly moan out Xavier’s name. He lazily kisses the back of your neck, his high quickly following yours.

He thrusts come to a slow, helping the two of you come down from a shared orgasm. You swallow leftover spit in your mouth, head falling, fingers holding onto the sides of his locker for dear life. His cum spills into your cunt, filling you up even more than before. It spills out through the think barrier between his cock and your pussy, dripping down your legs.

Xavier pulls out of you, grabbing one of his practice tees that hang inside the large locker, wiping the sticky and slick residue off of his length. He stares at you, watching as your arms lazily fall to your sides, weighing more than they usually do. You spin around and Xavier is right behind you.

You can feel his semen drip down your legs. The man chuckles to himself, reaching down as he pushes his cum back inside you with a few simple pushes. He reaches to the side, grabbing your panties, and helps you step into them, sliding them up your legs with ease. He kisses your cheek and whispers into your ear, “that’s for being loud.”

Xavier steps back and helps move your bra back up your body, buttoning the jersey back up. He gives you his joggers, the material baggy around your hips. It kills him to not be able to take you again. You sit on the bench and watch as he changes back into his shirt, slipping on a pair of baggy gym shorts he wears for conditioning.

The man gathers his belongings, slipping his baseball bat into its sleeve before extending his hand out towards you. You stand and take it, allowing him to guide you out of the locker room without anyone noticing. As soon as you step onto the field, you turn and look at him, cheeks a hot and your hair a complete mess. Xavier waves to the grounds keeper, turning to you with a smug look on his face.

Just looking at his smirk makes your pussy throb for him. You swallow the lump in your throat and step through the gate, a lingering feeling weighing on your mind as you leave the field and head towards the parking lot.

“You’re not done with me, are you?” you ask him as soon as you reach his car. Xavier chuckles, shaking his head as he helps you into the passenger seat. He leans down, hands resting on top of the car and the door.

“Baby, we just got started,” he tilts his head to the side, a flash of amusement and lust hidden behind his eyes. Your eyes shoot open, your body already preparing yourself for the long night ahead.

as always: likes, reblogs, & comments are greatly appreciated! <3

[thebellekeys]

A lot of the “spicy” romansce fantasy authors that kind of pioneered the sub genre (SJM, Jennifer l armentrout, laura thalassa etc) all started in YA, and then in mid series, they shifted and grew with their audience to go more adult in themes.

Do you think Cassandra Clare should have done the same thing and missed this opportunity? Would you have preferred if she reflected this? I personally feel like her fandom would still be as strong as ever if she followed her colleagues suit.

Or do you think that she stayed good sticking to her roots and her writing voice lends itself to not have more adult type of romances and benefits from a fade to black shall we say.

In her latest kickstarter, one of the four novels that are in it, will feature 10 spicy romantic couples from shadow hunters universe. Given this is crowd funded it makes me wonder if, if it were up to her, she would have gone more adult themed but her publishing contract held her back from it. But then from a publishers pov, isn’t that shooting yourself in the foot? All the authors I mentioned above changed their contracts I feel to reflect the direction the audience knew would give the most captain gain.

I would love to know your thoughts on this 🤭.

I don't think Cassie ever wanted to write romantasy or spicy romance-fantasy as her main "vocation".

I think I picked up on this when she deleted a lot of Julian and Emma smut scenes from The Dark Artifices because they didn't serve the progress of the story. Cassie has her indulgences, but she tends to not be overly focused on writing romance or smut in the grander scheme of the fantasy story. Cassie's guilty pleasure in writing seems to be writing semi-unnecessary angst and fluff between close friends more than anything, not spice.

I'm quite glad we're getting some spice from the Kickstarter project, and I think the reason she's making this an additional, optional project and not part of the main series is because she knows it's just for fun; it's not her main "thing", just an additional treat.

So all in all I'm quite happy she didn't follow with the Sarah J. Maas and company trend. And frankly, neither did Cassie's close writer besties either. Neither Holly Black nor Maureen Johnson nor Sarah Rees Brennan have gone into smutty adult fantasy either, so I get why it's not Cassie's preference. Cassie seems more set on establishing herself as a "serious" high fantasy writer now, hence rubbing elbows with George RR Martin.

[novaursa]

The Night They Came

- Summary: The night is dark and full of terrors.

- Pairing: sister!reader/Aemond Targaryen

- Note: This short story describes events of B&C, but if assassins succeeded in their mission.

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (for blood, gore and death)

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround

Maps are spread across the table, their edges curling slightly under the weight of time and hurried hands. Aemond stands tall, clad in black leather and polished silver armor that glints under the torchlight. His brow is furrowed, one eye sharp and calculating as it scans the map.

Ser Criston Cole leans beside him, pointing at the parchment with a gauntleted hand.

“The Velaryons will not take kindly to the shattering of their blockade. If they move toward the capital, we’ll—”

“Then we’ll burn their ships before they ever touch sail,” Aemond cuts in curtly, his voice low, yet it resonates through the chamber like a blade dragged across stone.

Criston glances at him, faint approval in his eyes. “Swift, but it’ll require Vhagar to—”

The sound splits the air like a knife to the gut—a scream.

Your scream.

It echoes through the stone halls of the Red Keep, piercing and raw, like an animal caught in a trap. Aemond’s head snaps up, his body going rigid. The blood drains from his face. Before he can even move, a second cry follows—one equally chilling, but distinctly Alicent’s.

“The nursery,” Criston breathes.

Aemond is already moving, his long legs carrying him toward the door in a flash of black and silver. Criston is close behind, his sword clinking faintly against his armor as they race through the halls.

The corridors seem impossibly long, the screams echoing in Aemond’s ears like the tolling of a death bell. The flicker of torches blurs as he runs, but your voice—high-pitched and frantic—grows closer.

“No! Please, no!”

Aemond reaches the nursery door and shoves it open with enough force that it slams against the wall.

The sight that meets him stops him cold.

The room is dimly lit by a single, swaying lantern, the shadows distorted and crawling across the walls. The air is heavy—sickly. The scent of blood is faint but unmistakable.

You are on the floor, trembling, your nightgown soaked and streaked with scarlet. One hand is outstretched as though to reach for something—or someone. Your other hand clutches a dagger, its tip still dripping crimson.

The cradle in the center of the room—the one where your and Aemond’s youngest slept—lies overturned, blood soaking the blankets. Your other children huddle in the corner of the room, their small faces streaked with tears. Their frightened cries pierce the silence: a daughter clinging to her younger brother, shielding his face from the scene before them.

Alicent is being held back by two guards near the door. Her face is pale and stricken with terror, her sobs strangled as she calls out names she cannot see.

“Aegor,” she gasps, collapsing against the guards. “Aegor…”

Aemond’s heart stops when his eye falls on the bloodied cradle and the small form that is missing from it.

“Y/N!” Aemond shouts, his voice hoarse.

You whip your head toward him, your tear-streaked face wide-eyed and frantic.

“They were here—they were—” you choke on your words, pointing toward the shadows, where faint footprints of blood trail out of the room.

Aemond drops to your side, gripping your shoulders tightly. “Who, Y/N? Who was here?”

“Two men,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “The rat-catcher and a man with knives—they came.” Your sobs wrack your body, and Aemond feels your trembling beneath his hands. “They—they killed Aegor.” Your voice breaks again. “They took his body, Aemond. They took him!”

The blood in Aemond’s veins runs cold, his mind struggling to process your words.

“And the children?” he asks, though dread already curls like a snake in his gut.

You don’t answer.

From the corner of the room, a tiny voice trembles, “Papa?”

Your daughter’s voice is so small, so full of terror that it shatters what little composure Aemond holds. He turns his head sharply, seeing your other children—your eldest daughter clutching her brother close, their faces pale and wet with tears.

“Father,” your daughter whimpers again, as though the very presence of her father might save her from this nightmare.

Aemond forces himself to speak, though his voice trembles. “It’s all right. I’m here. I’m here.”

“They—they said they’d come back,” the girl whispers faintly, clutching her brother tighter. “They said we would see the same fate.”

A cold chill runs down Aemond’s spine, but he stands, his face a mask of cold fury. Criston, who has just entered behind him, takes in the carnage with a grim expression.

“Aegor,” Aemond murmurs, his son’s name a growl in his throat. He looks to you, still slumped against the floor. “What did they do, Y/N? Tell me!”

“They—” You swallow thickly, unable to look at him. “They made me choose.”

The silence in the nursery is suffocating.

“What?” Criston’s voice cuts in, low and full of disbelief.

Your tear-filled gaze finally meets Aemond’s. “They made me choose which child to spare. I—I couldn’t—” A sob breaks free, your body curling into itself. “I couldn’t choose, Aemond! I tried, I tried to fight them…”

The rage that coils within Aemond’s chest is volcanic. His fists clench so tightly his knuckles whiten, and his jaw works as he grits his teeth.

“They killed him?” Criston says softly, as if testing the very words.

“They killed Aegor,” Alicent wails, collapsing to her knees. “And they took him…”

Aemond’s single violet eye burns, his pupil small with unrestrained fury. He moves toward the overturned cradle, the blood-streaked blankets tangled and empty.

“I’ll have their heads,” he snarls, his voice ice-cold, deadly. “Every man, every servant who aided them, every soul who dared let them into this keep—I will burn them alive.”

Criston steps forward. “Prince Aemond—”

“Find them,” Aemond spits, turning on his heel and glaring at Criston with such ferocity the Lord Commander takes a step back. “Find them before the day’s end, or I will see the entirety of Flea Bottom reduced to ash.”

Your faint whimper draws his attention again. Aemond’s fury softens—only slightly—as he kneels beside you once more. He cups your tear-streaked face in his hands, tilting it up to meet his gaze.

“I swear to you,” he says, voice low and hard, “they will pay for this. These men will beg for death before I am done with them.

From behind him, the soft sobs of your children echo, their cries quiet but haunting.

You clutch his arms, your blood-slicked fingers staining his black sleeves. “They took our son, Aemond…”

Aemond presses his forehead to yours, his eye shut tight as if to block out the world around him.

“Then I will bring him back,” he promises, though he knows the words are hollow.

And as the cries of the Red Keep continue to echo around you, you feel the walls of your world crumble.

[thinkmarkthink]

🎓 Wayne Academy Faculty List

🏫 Principal Alfred Pennyworth

Wears tailored suits. Enforces dress code with a raised eyebrow and tea with intent. Students are terrified of disappointing him. The only man in the building with absolute authority. Calls staff meetings “tea service.” Once fought a senator over arts funding. Won.

🧪 Bruce Wayne – AP Physics & Administrative Oversight

No one understands why a billionaire teaches one class a year, but he does. It’s AP Physics. It’s brutal. He never uses notes. The chalkboard is covered in equations no one understands. One time he taught class with a dislocated shoulder. Half the students have crushes on him. The other half think he’s Batman. They’re right. He denies everything.

🩰 Cassandra Cain – Dance & Movement Therapy

Her classroom is a silent sanctuary. You speak with your body. She can correct your posture with one glance. There is always soft music and bruised knees and unexpected catharsis. Once a week she does “Combat Choreo” where the dance class fights each other with foam swords. Somehow it’s still ballet.

🎭 Dick Grayson – Drama & PE

He teaches Shakespeare and backflips. Once did a monologue from Hamlet on the uneven bars. Has a “no toxic theatre kid” policy, which he enforces via somersault. The theatre department has glitter budgets and foam weapons. Gym class includes yoga, acrobatics, and the occasional obstacle course set up by Batman himself.

🖤 Jason Todd – English & Literary Analysis

His syllabus includes Frankenstein, The Count of Monte Cristo, and Catcher in the Rye, but he lets kids do their book reports via PowerPoint, cosplay, or fistfights (graded on argument structure). He says “fuck” once a week and dares the school board to fire him. Students trust him with their deepest trauma. He’s terrifying. He brings donuts.

💻 Tim Drake – Computer Science & Math

His class is a chaotic blend of hacker ethics, binary theory, and blackmail prevention. He wears mismatched socks and grades at 3AM. Has written two textbooks under a pseudonym. Can’t remember anyone’s name but knows their IP address. Every quiz ends with a trick question. His classroom runs entirely on caffeine and dread.

🎨 Damian Wayne – Visual Art & Advanced Ethics

Teaches with the rigor of a military commander and the finesse of a tiny, judgmental renaissance master. Has a sword in his classroom. Destroys students with critiques like “You are better than this. Start again.” Holds yearly gallery shows that make critics weep. Also runs the falconry club. No one’s quite sure how.

📖 Duke Thomas – History & Social Justice

His classroom is alive. Debates, documentaries, timeline murals that cover entire walls. He teaches rebellion like it’s a science. Uses pop culture to teach civil rights. Wears sneakers and button-ups. Empowers his students so much they start protests without him. Somehow the most grounded adult in the building.

🧁 Stephanie Brown – Health, Sex Ed, and Cheer Coach

Unfiltered, compassionate chaos. Teaches anatomy with a whiteboard and a vendetta. Will scream “USE A CONDOM” across a football field if she has to. Brings snacks. Once hosted a “Period Party” to de-stigmatize menstruation. Has a massive cheering squad with no tryouts. Everyone gets a glitter baton. Even Bruce.

🧠 Barbara Gordon – Guidance Counselor & Tech Integration

Her office is a haven. Smells like lavender and has two couches and three backup charging stations. She tracks every student’s grades, sleep schedule, and emotional regulation through apps she coded herself. Gives therapy through sarcasm, spreadsheets, and hugs. Knew you were having a panic attack before you did.

🛑 Bonus: Gotham Parents Association

Lois Lane is head of the PTA. Clark Kent bakes for bake sales and accidentally melts the oven. Oliver Queen funds half the school and keeps asking if they’ll name the gym after him. Harley Quinn teaches an optional Psych elective once a semester. It’s weirdly good.

[margareturtle]

Ngl if SC2 is prioritized over TWP one I might finally give up. We already waited for all of TLH to be out, idk if I can make it through of of Sword Catcher to be out 😭

Ahhh I’m finally done with sword catcher!!! What a wild ride!!! Honestly it was so fun!! Now I don’t want to wait a whole year for the next book!! Also does anyone know weather TWP 1 will come out before or after SC2?

[cassandraclare]

*sighs a bit* Okay. Guys. I have been asked this question a lot, and answered it a lot. I don't know how to give a better answer — Dru & Ty&Kit share significance as main characters — so I guess I'll talk a little about comparison and structures.

First, all series have different structures. I don't think it's super useful or predictive to try to map an upcoming, unknown book series onto an existing series. In TLH the main character was Cordelia, everyone else was secondary to her, and people's roles and the significance of them altered from book to book. It was a big ensemble cast and they mostly stayed put in London especially in book 1.

TWP focuses on a smaller group of people. It also has a very different structure. In book one, Dru is not with Kit and Ty. They are in different places, both of which have their own stories that are significant to the plot. There is no way to see Place One without following Dru. There is no way to see Place Two without following Kit and Ty.

I know that TWP is a long way off. I know there are people who are very angry with me that there's such a gap, but there isn't anything currently I can do about that, or about the fact that I don't yet have the schedule for my upcoming books. That rests in the hands of several different publishers who must coordinate the release times and production schedules for four different series. I am not withholding any information about when these books come out. I simply don't know it yet.

I understand that TWP being a long way off makes for anxiety, and that those who are worried Kit and Ty will somehow be secondary are looking for tiny clues in microscopic details — micro-reading the of placement of the word "and" in my newsletter and such — that are meaningless, but I get that it all comes from anxiety. (FTR, those worried Dru will be secondary are equally anxious.)

I think there is only so much I can say. Because there's a big gap between TLH and TWP everything I do say or every image or hint about it is freighted with a weight of assumption it can't really support. Anxiety is always going to trump reassurance. And truly, at the end of the day, if you only care about Kit and Ty and find the idea of a Dru story tiresome, you will feel like they got shafted because when you absolutely hate a plotline, you will always feel like it's taking up way too much space. That's just how our minds work.

I've been doing this long enough that I know no book can survive a hostile reading. I know that Book Three of a trilogy is the one people hate until they don't. (When Clockwork Princess came out people hated it so much I considered quitting writing!) I know that it's wonderful to love a character but can also be a problem for people when I put out books that aren't about that particular character or dynamic. I know that for a lot of people, Sword Catcher and Ragpicker King are just tiresome things that have no business on my schedule because they're not Shadowhunter books. And I get it. But I also have to block it out, because I've been writing a long time, and I've gotten to a point where I know that I have to write the thing I want to be writing, because if I don't, if I sit down and try to force myself to write something I'm not feeling like writing at that time, I'll be making myself physically and mentally sick. And that's no good for anyone, really.

I suppose the positive thing is that, while this would not have been true five years ago, I am at the place where I want very much to be writing Wicked Powers. I missed these characters and am glad to be back with them. I consider this a story in which there are three main characters. And that is all I can say right now because it's all that I know.

(And this was much more of a general response to a lot of things than a specific response to this question, but I did feel like it was stuff that I needed to say. Creators are at the end of the day, just people. Sometimes we are powerless to reassure. Sometimes we are tired. Sometimes we are wrong. Sometimes we try things and they don't work. Sometimes we can't explain to you what our story is going to make you feel, because only reading it is going to tell you that. This may be one of those times.)

[the-fiction-witch]

The Throne Room

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen + Ser Martyn Rayne Couple - Aegon X Reader + Ser Martyn Rayne x Reader Reader - 'Missy' (Brothel Worker) Rating - 18+ (Nudity / Exibhitionisum / full sex / raw sex/ riding/ reverse cowgirl / eating out / blow jobs/ cum / masturbation / 'slut' / 'Whore' / spanking Word Count - 1388

Aegon always assumed being king would, all be boring. Small council meetings, Political petitions, mindless waffling about offending one house or another. He always knew he wouldn’t much like it, he knew he’d hate being constantly told he could not do something he wanted to do. But since riding the court of his grandsire Otto Hightower as hand of the king, and the business with the rat catchers, no one dared tell King Aegon, no.

So Aegon had gotten incredibly drunk and rather than taking his Kingsguard cronies out with him to the street of silk, or even having his favoured ladies brought to his chambers. He had summoned his favourite of Brothel girls, Missy. Straight to the throne room, and into his lap.

At first, it was just cuddling while he drank, sharing a few more intimate kisses on the iron throne, but had turned into of course much more.

Aegon had Missy on his lap as he sat on the iron throne, his hands on her lips, his britches unlaced and his hard cock pulled out for her to ride.

Missy sat with her back against his chest, naked but with a small sheer shawl over her shoulders. Her nipples were hard and her pussy glistened from having Aegon inside her for so long. She moaned softly, throwing her head back dramatically as she moved her hips.

“Uhhh-” He moaned, “Yeah… Fuck yeah, harder,” he ordered grabbing her hips and forcing her to move faster,

“Yes my king,” She cooed happily speeding up,

Many of the knights of Aegon’s Kingsguard, were unable to watch their eyes on the floor and hands on their swords desperate to avoid the sight, but of course, a few were enjoying watching Missy work, several of them hard below their armour watching her.

If ever she met the eyes of a Knight that was looking at her she blew them kisses or moaned without breaking their eye contact.

Aegon noticed the knights so grabbed Missy by the neck pulling her tight to him, “Humm you like that do you? My little slut gets off on the attention?”

“Merely wish to please your knights, my king”

“You are not here for them. You’re here for me.” He barked biting down on her neck, “Go on then, show them what a dirty little fucktoy you are, what a naughty little cock loving whore you are.” he growled grabbing her breasts and pinching her nipples to make them harder as he played with them,

“As you command, my king,” She cooed arching her back, and speeding up spreading her legs so everyone could see her pussy,

“That’s a good girl.” he growled slapping her ass, “Tighter, Tighter,” he ordered,

She did as he asked squeezing her pussy around his throbbing cock,

But Aegon grabbed Missy by the hips and began to move fast and hard, making her moan and squirm from the pleasure, “Ughh fuck- Yes… That’s it… tighter… Tighter! Ughhh.”

“Ughh! Yes, my king!!” She screamed out as she threw her head back,

“Fuck I’ve missed you-” He cursed his pace getting sloppier from his drunken tiredness and from his closeness to his orgasm,

“As have I, your grace.” She gasped barely able to form words,

“Down. Now.” He ordered, “Kneel.”

“Uhhh… but-”

“Put my cock in your mouth, so I can cum without giving you a silver-haired bastard.”

“Yes my king,” She cooed, sliding off his cock and kneeling before the throne,

“Good girl,” he cooed stroking his cock softly,

Missy moved closer not even slightly covering her bare ass and dripping pussy as she sat up slightly and licked her own juices off Aegon’s cock, she licked and peppered kisses softly before taking him completely into her mouth,

“Ohh fuck- Yeah… that’s it.” he groaned grabbing her hair and thrusting softly to fuck her mouth,

One of the knights, who had been unable to tear his eyes away the whole time, began to crack, stood at the perfect spot to see her and Aegon in the most perfect of positions, he checked that other’s around him were either looking away in shame or watching them with vigour, he moved his hand from his sword, slowly as to not make his armour clink, slipping off his gauntlet and sliding his hand under his armour and into his britches taking hold of his hard cock, and starting to jerk off as he watched them.

Missy moaned softly, sucking hard and rhythmically, licking swirled circles across his cock’s sensitive head teasing and tantalizing him with each flick.

Aegon knew he was close, so just kept his base fucking her mouth harder and harder leaning into her endless sucking, leaning back against the throne and letting his eyes roll back in utter ecstasy. “Ughhhhhhhh! Uuuuuhhhh….” He groaned uncontrollably as his orgasm sparked like a wildfyre spreading all over his body making his toes curl, his head throwback, and his whole body tremble, as he filled her mouth with his seed.

Missy swallowed easily and slowed down gently, finally coming to a stop and pulling his cock from her mouth, licking his seed from her lips, “Satisfied my king?”

“Very satisfied, my sweet whore,” he smirked, stroking her hair and running a hand down to cup her breast, “Sit down.”

“Yes my king,” she cooed getting to her feet,

Aegon grabbed her and forced her onto the throne putting her feet up on the armrests leaving her spread open completely,

“Uhh… my king… please I-” she began knowing what Aegon was going to do with her,

“Good girl, nice and loud.” He commanded, dropping to his knees, kissing and licking her dripping cunt,

“Ahhhhh!” She screamed throwing her head back in pleasure,

He continued to lap at her sensitive flesh, his tongue darting in and out with precise movements. He could feel her wetness coating his face as he devoured her, eating her like she was his last meal on this earth,

“You- your grace… Aegon! Ughhhhhh ahhh!” She screamed out soaking the throne in her juices as she neared her orgasm,

“Ughhhh!” The knight mistakenly moaned as he reached his orgasm cumming hard in his bitches,

Which caught Aegon’s attention, “Oohh…” he smirked, getting to his feet and kissing Missy’s sternum, “Ser Reyne? Care to share?”

“Forgive me, your grace…”

“No, no. I think we’d all like to know.”

“I… I was…”

“Ohh I think we all know what you were doing.” He smirked, “You desire my whore?”

“…I am sorry your grace,”

“There is no need to be sorry, Ser Rayne. She is a whore. Not the queen. You may look upon her as much as you desire, touch yourself to her if you wish. But do not lie to me.”

“I… I do desire her your grace.”

“Humm you hear that Missy, he likes you.”

“You’re welcome to visit,” she cooed,

“Ah ah.” He warned her, “No fishing for new clients, you're still mine till I’m done paying.”

“Of course my king,” She giggled but she blew Ser Rayne a kiss,

Ser Rayne blushed hard unable to meet her eyes,

“I’d offer to let you fuck her but… you a sword to celibacy as a king's guard, are you not?”

“Y- Yes your grace,”

“Pity.” Aegon scoffed, “I suppose you’ll just have to watch won’t you.” he growled before he dropped back to his knees grabbing Missy’s thighs and sucking hard on her clit,

“Ughhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhh Yes! Yes! My king! Aegon Please!” She screamed her eyes rolling back, squirting down his chin and the throne, squirming desperately until she hit her orgasm screaming so loud it echoed across the hall her body trembling and shaking from pleasure as Aegon pulled away and licked his lips,

“Such a good little whore,” he cooed as he got to his feet, “We’ll continue this upstairs.”

She nodded blushing hard,

“Ser Rayne?”

“I uh- Yes my king?” he gulped,

“Carry Missy to my room, so she can wait for me.” Aegon ordered, “And keep her… company till I arrive.”

“Ohh uhh yes, your grace.” He nodded sheepishly, moving over and gently picking Missy up in his arms,

She cooed and wrapped her arms around his neck kicking her legs playfully,

He found it hard not to look at her naked body in his arms drooling over her, as he carried her out of the throne room,

So, Missy blew Aegon a kiss, which he happily returned and then nuzzled up with Ser Rayne as he carried her away,