draco malfoy fan account

pls

[elvhendis]

SJM really wrote a book where she introduced a rakish flirt with a mechanical eye and facial scars, who is clever and sarcastic and has an impeccable sense of style, is skilled in courtly matters but is also catches fish with his bare hands, is a noble but doesn't care about his title and features a tragic backstory on top of it all and she really expected me to care about that blonde guy?????

[mycadences]

There are so many things I adore about Gwynriel, but right now I'm particularly loving how Azriel -- the stoic and stony Spymaster of the Night Court -- is repeatedly amused by Gwyn. And you know what they all say about how sharing a similar sense of humor is important for a thriving relationship...

Quotes:

"Az stared after her, brows high with amusement."

"Azriel's lips twitched."

"Azriel couldn't help his soft chuckle."

*Gwyn makes a joke about Nessian being too into each other to conduct training properly.* "Azriel laughed. 'I'll give you that.'"

And the last three were when he "wouldn't go so far as to call Gwyn a friend". Like imagine this: he was already so comfortable with her and found her company entertaining when he didn't consider them friends (since this bonus scene was earlier on in the book). Like -- just their potential!

And of course, the one that everyone knows:

"So he offered her a crooked smile."

AHHHHHHHHH!!! *this is the sound of me screaming until my soul has left this world, btw*

Are they in love right now? OF COURSE NOT! No one, NO ONE is claiming that they are head over heels in love with each other right now. But do I see their relationship developing into eventual love and acceptance of each other? Hell yes!

I find it interesting that Azriel was so self-conscious of his scarred hands around Elain, thinking himself sullied, but around Gwyn he was so completely relaxed that he didn't even think about his hands. He even had to fight back the urge to "open up her wrist and rotate the blade" (which he obviously didn't do out of respect for her personal boundaries). Like he was willing to make physical contact with her to demonstrate how to do the move correctly (and no, not in a skinship or sexual manner, but just pointing out how he could be around Gwyn without hiding himself).

Azriel doesn't need to be fixed.

Gwyn doesn't need to be fixed.

They need acceptance, and I believe they can find that in each other.

I still firmly maintain that Gwynriel is endgame but if the stars misalign and the sun rises from the west, I will still be a Gwynriel shipper. I have shipped non-canon couples in other media before. My love for them burns just as bright nonetheless.

But fear not, Gwynriels, we will get the story the world deserves to know 💖

[sydneymack]

Lucien Vanserra - A Court of Thorns and Roses

Artist: @kri_stasss_

[spiritedstars]

[courtofmaasdestruction]

feysand and nessian:

azriel:

[idgivehimroses]

rhysand’s office with all of feyre’s self portraits on the walls

[luciensdefenseattorney]

HOFAS WALMART BONUS CHAPTER

[luciensdefenseattorney]

HOFAS BOOKS A MILLION BONUS CHAPTER

[luciensdefenseattorney]

Pt 2

[idgivehimroses]

elriels out here mapping out the most delusional theories i have ever seen YALL SOUND INSANE?? i honestly don’t care who azriel ends up with (i am an elain and lucien stan tho 🤷🏼‍♀️) but this is literally grasping at straws . like elain was not mentioned or even alluded to the entire bonus chapter lmao.

like yall are literally out here like “bryce played a song about stone mother. azriels mother might be from rose hall. elain likes roses therefore mates.” like pls be fr. they may very well end up together in the end but i cannot find anything in this specific chapter that leads me to believe that lol

the only thing i took is that when all of this is over bryce better bring azriel to the club 😤😤

[mercurianbisous-deactivated2023]

Lidia Cervos: Me:

[azsazz]

Mind Games

Chaol x Reader

Summary: Anon Request:  I want to pose seductively on his work desk while he frets about the important papers I’m lying on and annoy him until he doubts his sanity because he doesn’t understand why he’s into that

Warnings: Smut!

Word Count: 2,710

Notes: I'm not even sorry. I love him. 🤭

_________________________________________

“Move.” Is the first thing Chaol says when he enters his room and sees you lying across his desk like a cat stretched out in its favorite spot.

There’s nothing sweet about the way he says it. His brown eyes are sharp and his jaw twitches where it’s set in a harsh line. A direct order from the captain of the guard, from your Lord that you should obey, but don’t want to. There are important papers strewn beneath your body, organized in importance of when they needed to be read and responded to, and if you so much as shift or crumple one–

“Chaol,” you tsk, more than ready to play this little game of his. He can deny you left and right, until the sun's fires die out or the clocktower falls down, but he’s no match for your stubbornness. “I thought I might deliver you a message myself.”

Perhaps that’s why you keep coming around, why he gives into you more often than not. It’s a challenge that you both yearn for. You see each other for what you truly are.

“I said move,” he responds roughly. His strides are long as he makes his way closer, rounding the corner of his desk to stare down at you. His hand rests lazily on the hilt of his sword, though you know he’d never use the weapon against you, especially not when you’re splayed across the dark oak desk with hardly anything covering the parts he’s trying so hard not to peer down at. “And it’s Lord Chaol to you.”

“Lord,” you hum, liking the way it tastes on your tongue. You enjoy even more the way that those brown eyes spark, but his gaze doesn’t falter, not even as you drag a hand over your thigh, leering up at the man towering over you. “That sounds good, doesn’t it?” you ask, licking your lips as you watch Chaol work to swallow.

The hand on the hilt of his sword tightens, his teeth nearly cracking as he grinds them. “I have work to do,” he grits, but you’re eye level with his trousers, and his cock tells you otherwise.

“You work too much,” you pout, wanting to reach out and press your fingers against the softness of his shirt. The body beneath is packed with muscle, hours upon hours of honing his body to become Captain of the Guard. You’re well familiar with it.

“I have to,” a muscle in Chaol’s jaw twitches, his brown eyes flickering as he watches you.

“Well,” you smirk, spreading your legs wider for him, a languid smile curling at the corners of your mouth. “If you have to work, I can think of a few things you can help me with.”

Chaol doesn’t falter.

Gods, does he play this game well, but so do you, holding that simmering gaze as you trail your fingers up your body, watching for that moment like a hawk. 

Up and up and up your fingers graze across your pert nipples but Chaol offers you nothing more than a bored look. His stare is unwavering as you play with yourself. There’s no flicker of muscle in his jaw that means he’s grinding his teeth, trying to hold himself back. No twitch of the deeply calloused fingers trying to curl into fists before they find your body.

But you’re just as good at playing with him, stretching out long across his desk. Papers shift beneath you and you nearly knock off the quill still dipped into the pot of ink where he’d left it after receiving a hasty report you’d made up so you could sneak into his room clad in a sparse silk nightgown that leaves little to the imagination. 

He is understandably annoyed.

Slowly, you trace your way back down, fingers curling into the smooth fabric before you’re tugging it up just enough to show off the lace undergarment you’d recently purchased on your way back from rounds of the city, already wet with excitement for the Lord.

Your mouth parts in a slight gasp as you brush across your cunt and there. You spot the shift in his eyes, the flicker of chocolate gone molten.

You grin like a wolf.

It takes all of three seconds for Chaol to remove the scabbard from his hip, placing it down perfectly before he’s gripping your hips in strong hands and twisting you to face him as he gets to his knees.

You bite your lip but it doesn’t keep the smile off of your face. Chaol growls low at that look, the smugness in your eyes, and your cunt flares with fire at the pointed stare he’s giving you, letting you know that you’re about to get it.

He nips at the soft skin of your thighs with sharp teeth, eliciting a sharp yelp from you that does nothing to deter him from hooking your legs over his shoulders. 

Gods, does he look perfect like that. Silken hair dark and sticking up in places you know he’s run his own frustrated fingers through it, blazing eyes the color of smoldering coal as he looks down at you, still towering over you even when he’s on his knees for you. The width of his shoulders are a feat of their own, and his hands span across each of your thighs, fingertips pressing into the meat there to keep you still as you shift closer.

“The message,” he grumbles, but his eyes are on you no longer, instead watching with an intensenes that rushes through your body as he pulls the cloth covering your cunt to the side. 

You can feel his breath so close to the place you want it most. “What?” you blink, hardly able to focus as he inches closer and closer.

“You said you were to deliver me a message,” he answers, grip slackening as he tentatively licks at your glistening heat. Your hands find his hair immediately, urging him to continue with a whimper but the veins in his neck pop as he holds himself back. “I want you to read me the message while I taste you.”

His breath is hot against your core and your fingers shake as you remove them from his hair, searching blindly for the first piece of paper on his desk. There’s no message, it had been another ruse to get underneath his skin. Your fingers grasp desperately and you nearly tear the letter in half as he finally presses forward, devouring your sweet cunt like a drowning soldier.

The paper shakes in your grip as you hold it above you but with the way he’s licking at your clit and fucking into you with his tongue you’re unable to read, mind swirling and eyes rolling into your skull with pleasure. 

Your toes curl against his back and you arch as he sucks your sensitive bud, flickering his tongue against it in brutal, fervent motions. 

That familiar feeling is already coiling your gut, hot strokes of flames threatening to burst from your body as he works, your fingers tightening in his hair while your nails punch holes into the paper crumpled in your grip.

Just as you’re about to crest he halts and you curse, a whimper slipping from your lips that gives him the higher ground in this game for two.

“Well?” he asks, and you lift your head from the desk, staring down at him over your heaving chest. His lips are glistening with your wetness, eyes bright and the challenge there has you jerking your hand that’s buried in his hair.

The asshole doesn’t yield an inch.

Instead, a dark brow cocks, “Are you going to read it then?”

You swallow roughly but Chaol is unaffected by your glare, rubbing his thumbs in encouragement. The higher you raise the letter to read, the closer he moves back to your cunt.

But you’re a stubborn soldier, placing the paper between you and him so you don’t have to look at that smirk, those taunting brown eyes as he holds your ability to cum. 

You swallow roughly, breath hitching in your throat as his tongue dips between your legs as you speak. “This one is from Dorian,” you choke, and it’s desperate. Desperate because you need him to let you finish badly but also because you ache to gain the better hand in this game you’re both masters at.

“It says,” you answer his knowing pause of movement. “‘Lord Westfall, you should treat your companion with more respect, or I shall show you how a woman should truly be worshiped.’” It doesn’t say anything close to that, but his mouth feels so amazing against your heat that you can’t even make out the sprawling ink across the page. This one isn’t even from the King.

You yelp as Chaol nips your clit. Punishment for your lies. His calloused fingers dig into the meat of your thighs in warning but all it does is make you moan, make you writhe on his desk and grind your cunt against his tongue.

But it’s the wrong thing to say because he’s pulling away, tossing your legs from his shoulders as he stands. His body is tight with tension as he stares down at you, eyes gone dark. 

You open your mouth to say something, say anything, but there’s a light slap to your throbbing cunt that has you crying out and staying silent. Chaol’s gaze keeps you pinned and unmoving to the desk but instead of leaving you with less than an orgasm, he begins peeling off his clothes.

“You think Dorian can do better?” He grunts the question, revealing his glistening chest in the buttery light casting through the large windows. It makes your mouth dry and you ache to lean up and lap the beads from the corded muscle of his abdomen.

You stutter, still reeling from the lack of orgasm his deliciously soft tongue and calloused fingers had nearly pulled from you. Your body is vibrating with need, even more so when he strips you of your clothes and shoves his own pants over his cut hips as he fists his beading cock.

“No answer for that, huh, soldier?” Chaol snarls, guiding your thighs to wrap around his taut waist. He grimaces when he sees the papers beneath where you were lying as he adjusts you with ease, cock lining up to your cunt. They’re crumpled, stained, and the ink is spreading with the wetness that coats them. Ruined. Just like you’re about to be.

He takes his cock in hand, rubbing it through your slickness and the motion drives you mad. Close, he’s so fucking close to being inside of you, pressing you so hard into the desk that you leave an indentation in the wood. You need him, now.

Chaol seems to know that, too, the look in his eyes says so. And then he does.

“This is how this is going to work, soldier,” he growls, pressing into you in one long stroke. It makes your breath falter and your mind go dumb. Chaol rips your hands from where they’re trying to claw marks into the wood and guides them up over your breasts to squeeze. He then moves on up to your throat to cut off your air while the other glides down to your clit, his fingers pressing yours into the swollen bud. It makes you gasp and your legs shake.

“Please,” you beg. You need him to move his hips, pull that hot cock from inside you only to press in further. You need him to dominate you, press against you until you can’t even breathe, paint the walls of your cunt white with his cum.

“You’ll do as I say,” he only answers your plea, a shift of his hips has him moving but not enough.

“Chaol,” you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut. The way he’s working you with your own fingers is incredible, a leader through and through. The feeling is almost otherworldly, but you need him pumping into you like he needs order. “Please!”

He leans over you and you can feel the cording of his muscle as his body presses flush to yours. His breath is hot in your ear as he nips the shell, hand trapped between the both of you but still working you in slow circles. “You hear me, soldier?”

“Yes, captain,” you respond desperately. Your nimble hands slip from his grasp before he has a chance to tighten his grip further. He growls but it wavers as you wrap your arms around his neck, sliding down his shoulders so your nails can dig into his back, a desperate attempt to urge him on. A harsh thrust has him moving but it’s a warning that has you correcting your mistake. “Lord,” you gasp, “Yes, Lord Westfall.”

He hums appreciatively, rewarding you with his lips the same time as he drags his hips from yours only to shove back in with unwavering certainly.

Your moan is lewd and he swallows it whole. You let him take control, no longer wanting to play this game now that you have him. He’s deep inside of you, broad body up against yours as he takes you on his desk, work forgotten.

His tongue dances with your own and his elbows brace either side of your head, biceps bulging as he digs his fingers into your hair, keeping you from being shoved up too far up his desk.

Chaol’s movements don’t falter. Each thrust of his hips is a godsend, a weapon all of its own, and you’ll gladly take it. It’s as if he knows your cunt is sparking with the beginnings of an orgasm because he’s pulling away from your soft lips and staring down at you through lust-lined eyes. “You want more, soldier?”

“Yes, Lord,” you answer immediately, moaning as he pistons his hips faster. He leans his weight onto one propped arm and you oogle the packed on muscle. His free hand snakes down your body, hooking beneath your knee to prop your leg up, effectively sinking into you further. It causes you to keen, scratching for purchase along the planes of his back.

“You want to cum, soldier?” His voice is as rough, a captain giving orders.

“Please, Chaol.” 

He dips down to taste his name on your lips with a domineering growl of his own. It makes your cunt clench around his hot cock, driving you nearer and nearer to your edge.

Chaol pulls away. His arm shakes like he physically has to use effort to pull himself from you. At his full height he takes you in, hair sprawled across his desk, fingers urgently trying to latch onto any of his skin that you can find. Your eyes drink him in just as he does you, the long lines of his hips cutting into abdominals that could put any man to shame. His rugged handsomeness that had you panting after him like some love-sick girl. And to be looked at the way he’s looking down at you, despite this thing between the both of you that neither of you will confront, you love it.

“Then cum,” he grunts his final order, one large hand coming to rest on your hip, the other…those calloused fingers find your clit and work you with the skill of a man trained for war. “Like the obedient soldier you are.”

You heed his command, stars blooming behind tightly shut eyes as he drags your orgasm from you. It wracks your body like a wave and Chaol’s fingers find your own, letting you hold on tight as he continues to thrust into you. 

He groans, the sight of you swallowed by your pleasure is everything he swore he’d never let himself have. You, the woman that threatens to turn him into some simpering man, panting for your love, you’re it for him. 

Chaol cums inside of you, a sound breaking from his throat that would embarrass him if he cared. But buried deep into your heat as he unleashes into you, he doesn’t give a single damn. 

He’d let you win this game any day, everyday, if it means that he can have you here like this instead.

[lexxwithbooks]

📖: 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 (𝐼𝑐𝑒 𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑡 𝐵𝑎𝑟𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑠 #3) 🛸🦻🏼👽

✍🏽: 𝐑𝐮𝐛𝐲 𝐃𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

Get the book! 🌟

[idgivehimroses]

i think ice planet barbarians broke my brain because i’m rereading acotar and tell me why i was half expecting feyre and rhys to start resonating when the mating bond snapped into place

[helion-ism]

the way ruby dixon trashes men in her books is so funny to me. she really said the men on this planet suck and then created a whole new planet with polite blue aliens whose only duty in life is to make their women happy

[mayhem24-7forever]

Ladies, Theydies, and Gent Le Mans, I present to you my tier list of the first 72 books of the Ice Planet Barbarians extended universe. This is apart of my (currently) 108 slide powerpoint presentation that started as something my friends asked for and has become like a scientific quest to me. 

[milosflaca]

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR CROP MY ART (I am a small creator that needs all the traffic she can get her way. Share away through the designated links. Please do not repost).

Ice Planet Barbarians, my latest fixation. So you get sketches :D

I got these books as a gift (the first two -especial editions-) and I was instantly hooked. I have to say, I’m not much of a fan of Science fiction, let alone sci-fi romance. 

But this Paleolithic twist (which is MY THING) lured me all the way in. Ruby Dixon’s books are so entertaining and a delight to read. 

Stayed tune because I am uploading Rahoosh soon (I have TONS of drawings of Liz and Rahoosh, but I’ve been holding out on you guys). I’ve been posting constantly on my Instagram stories (several previews of the blue guys). I’ve yet to upload all the images I’ve done.

I do want to draw all of the guysssss (and the girls too! first time ever because most sci-fi MCs are so annoying. Dixon knows how to write girls).

Forgot to post this here. 

Look for me on Instagram or FB (milosflaca as well).

[theladyofbloodshed]

More Ice Planet Barbarian memes that nobody asked for