#here like. unhinged and a god damn mess.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Last one I swear...What If 141...had an American girlfriend and they argued or had to teach them about some cultural differences? Football/soccer...currency...bathroom/loo, etc.

You said last one but we know that's not true. Don't blame you though. Keep them coming.

I love this idea. It's so cute! Translation mixup, confusion about slang, cultural differences, etc. Even though the Brits speak English, it's nothing like American English in a lot of respects, which is why I find this prompt so fun!

Wanted to make this quick and short. Presented in four drabbles. Enjoy!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings: brief swearing, brief mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 400

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Those are cookies, Kyle.”

“It’s a biscuit.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “A biscuit is savory. Cookies are sweet.”

“Your biscuit is a scone.”

“Oh my god,” you groan.

An old lady navigates around the two of you inside the grocery store. Her cart almost clips you.

Kyle glances down at the list in his hands. “What the fuck is an eggplant?”

“We need it for dinner on Tuesday.”

“But what is it?”

You point and Kyle follows. His arm drops to his side and he side-eyes you.

“That’s an aubergine.”

“That’s an aubergine,” you mimic as Kyle laughs.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The front of the pub is painted all black with intricate gold lettering. A nearby streetlamp casts the front window in a warm glow.

“Remember what I told you?” asks Simon.

You both stare at the pub, neither moving to the door just yet.

“Tell me again.”

Simon clears his throat. “If I’m buying a round, don’t offer money for your portion. Order at the bar but don’t linger. Know what you want. Respect closing time.”

He pauses and you see him turn in the reflection of the window.

“Got it?” he asks.

“Got it.”

“Let’s get bloody pissed then.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“You’ve got this. Don’t stress.” Johnny grasps your shoulders and squeezes. “It’ll be fine.”

“What if I mess up. Make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t,” he affirms.

“Johnny.”

He sighs and then cups the sides of your face. “You don’t have to say anything but three things.” You breathe deep, and Johnny goes in for a quick kiss. “What are they?”

“Aye,” you say. “Which means yes.”

“Naw,” and this is you emphasize with a terrible accent that makes Johnny wince, “is no.”

“What else?”

“It’s okay to use ‘fuck’ casually in a sentence.”

“That’s my girl,” laughs Johnny.

John Price

“If you’re coming to the game, you’re calling it by its proper name,” says John, pointing at you.

“What?” you ask with pretend aloofness. “Soccer?”

“Football,” he growls with annoyance.

It irritates John when you call the sport by its American name. But you do it anyway just to tease him.

John holds up a jersey. “This is important to me.”

“I know.”

“It’s a game with the boys.”

You pat his shoulder. “I know, John.”

He sighs. “What is it called?”

You remain quite and John arches an eyebrow.

“Soccer,” you answer, grinning.

“You’re lucky you’re so damn cute.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@taysarchive @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

[calliesmemes]

ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”

“   Hungry? Eat the government. ”

“   Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”

“   Silence, you uneducated peanut! ”

“  They should invent a being alive that isn’t so difficult. ”

“   Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”

“   Due to personal reasons I will be named an enemy of the state. ”

“   Being overdressed is a myth made up by people who didn’t want you to have fun and be sexy. ”

“   What even are daddy issues? Just traumatize your father back. ”

“   I LOVE complaining! You can’t take that away from me! ”

“   I went to the silly goose convention and they all knew you. ”

“   I’m simultaneously ‘I’m tired of this grandpa’ and ‘that’s too damn bad!’ ”

“   The word ew coming out of a pretty girl’s mouth holds so much power … I think that it can tear apart nations. ”

“   Someone made fun of my shoes and the whole time I just thought of ways to push them out the window. ”

“   If you’re short, simply get taller. ”

“   I better think twice? Buddy I don’t even think once. ”

“   My off putting looks, awkward demeanor, and strange behavior have captivated you. ”

“   There’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you. Can we kiss? ”

“   You are a fool. When you walk, clown music plays. ”

“   I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favorite? ”

“   I really do hate thinking. ”

“   In my defense, I simply do not vibe with the law. ”

“   I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ”

“   Sorry I couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue. ”

“   Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”

“   So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’. ”

“   Stop calling me a bad person just because I’m orchestrating your downfall! ”

“   The more lip gloss I collect the longer I live. ”

“   Sorry that I am obsessed with you in the unhealthiest way possible. As if it's my fault ”

“   The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”

“   I could be your loser boyfriend. Do you ever think about that? ”

“   Accidentally went and got myself killed yesterday, but god wont let me die so I’m back ”

“   What do you mean napping isn't a good coping mechanism? What do you mean my problems are still here? ”

“   Academic validation is required for my sanity. ”

“   RIP to everyone killed by the gods for hubris but I’m different and better. Maybe even better than the gods. ”

“   Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”

“   My parents were like I’m gonna make a child that is so beyond help. ”

“   It’s not easy to admit when you’re wrong, and that’s why I won’t do it. ”

“   Why can’t this family ever have a funky good time? ”

“   How do I show people that I’m more than my unethical career choice? ”

“   I fucked my way into this mess, and I’ll fuck my way out. ”

“   You look so biteable today. ”

“   Why am I suffering? I have so many correct opinions and takes. ”

“   I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST THAT I CANNOT GO BACK TO! anyways ”

“   Challenging authority, angering gods. The family business. ”

“   Third base is me telling you about my father. ”

“   Hey girl. Plagued by terrifying visions? ”

“   Got caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing. ”

“   I didn’t ‘miss’ the red flags; I saw them and thought that they looked sexy. ”

“   Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot? ”

“   I get my news from the only reliable source, cryptic symbolism in my dreams. ”

“   Another day of being a bisexual disaster. ”

“   I’m going to let myself be a little unhinged today, as a treat. ”

“   Some of you act like murder is such a big deal. ”

“   You wanna hunt me for sport so bad that it makes you look stupid. ”

“   You’re not a girlboss unless you’ve killed someone. ”

“   It’s so weird how no one ever has correct opinions about things except for me. ”

“   Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”

“   No one is calling me baby and it’s outrageous I can’t believe it. ”

“   No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”

“   I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”

“   Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”

“   Affection is disgusting. Drown me in it. ”

“   I am gatekeeping my respect from you. ”

“   Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”

“   I am equal parts fuck around and find out and please don’t yell at me I’ll cry. ”

“   Short legs, big butt. I’m a corgi. ”

“   Fuck being the bigger person; I’m going to start biting people. ”

“   Well that wasn’t very slay of you! ”

“   May I please get a crumb of affection? ”

“   I crave power! Please don’t yell, though; I’m sensitive. ”

“   You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God. ”

“   Here are some scissors. Now cut it out. ”

“   Might commit a little tomfoolery, maybe even some shenanigans. ”

“   All these flavors, and you choose to be salty. ”

“   How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? ”

“   What if I said ‘to be honest’ but then lied? ”

“   I'm financially at a stage where I understand why people do fraud. ”

“   Yes I may be evil and morally corrupt, but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly. ”

“   Debates are stupid. Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? ”

“   I forget but I do NOT forgive.. I'm just walking around hating bitches can't remember why ”

“   Ding dong your opinion is wrong! ”

“   I’m coming for your kneecaps. ”

“   You dropped your nose you fucking clown. ”

“   Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”

“   Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”

“   I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”

“   If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”

“   Everything I want to do is illegal. ”

“   Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”

“   I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”

“   Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”

[reidingandwriting]

Nice To Meet Ya! > w.w. & l.h.

Word Count: ~1,900

Pairings: Wade Wilson x Reader, Logan Howlett x Reader, it’s (the beginning of) a throuple over here

Warnings: Fem!reader (she pronouns used like. twice in the very end), to be expected amounts of cursing and vulgarity from Wade, lots of cursing in general tbh, maybe a little OOC Logan, still getting to learn how to write his character well (Deadpool and Wolverine gave me brain worms so I had to write this immediately after watching)

A/N: This may become a little bit of a series! I’m having so much fun writing them since I Finally watched Deadpool and Wolverine so there will be a lot of solo & duo content with these two. This part is a little Wade focused but the next part is more Logan focused 🫶🏻

Next Chapter

You never in a million years imagined this would be your life. You were raised by busy parents, and you quickly became self sufficient. Independent. When you hit your teenage years, your parents… god knows where they went, to be honest. All you knew is you had a house to yourself, you didn’t have friends anymore, and as lonely as it was, you found a bit of comfort in the solitude. You worked as a bartender at this bar not too far from your house, and you were a crowd favorite. You always brought in the biggest tips and many of the patrons were protective over you.

Your longest regular was the merc with a mouth- Deadpool. Wade, as he introduced himself once, a faint whisper. The fabric of his mask rubbing against your cheek as he whispered the name in your ear. Wade Wilson.

He was... Loud, to say the least. You didn’t think he had an off switch. He insisted he did- but you’d have to go under his suit to find it, he teased you. He never stopped talking and there was no such thing as small talk with him; if you were talking to him, he was downright vulgar, and the quite frankly gross sense of humor was entertaining. He also flirted like it was his job. Much like the rest of his vocabulary, his flirting was pure filth that would make even the most seasoned sailor blush. And god forbid any creep start talking to you.

“Hey, princess, sorry I’m late. Too busy blowing my load to the thought of you, then remembered, wait! I can come see your fine ass in person whenever I want. Wanna finish me off?” You could practically feel the smirk Wade was sending you. You gestured for him to lean in, waiting until he was leaned against the bar, chest hovering above the countertop as you leaned in.

“In your dreams, dick for brains.” Your lips brushed against where his were covered by his mask, and you smirked when you heard the sharp intake of breath. The gasp almost impossible to hear, but it made your heart flutter all the same.

“You, sweet thang? Always. Holy fucking shit, that was so hot.” You and Wade had quickly become friends, his personality meshing well with yours. After ‘baby knife’ had somehow found itself in the hand of some perv that had been borderline stalking you at work for weeks, you found a new part of his personality. His protectiveness. He was as chipper as ever, but with the manic energy of someone who could, and would, kill someone who mildly inconvenienced someone he cared for. Unhinged, barely holding onto his minimal self restraint to splatter the guy’s blood all over the wall. Wouldn’t want you to have a mess to clean up, he admitted once it was just the two of you.

He offered to walk you home once after he’d known you for a few weeks, and now it was habit. You loved the times you had with just him. He was the same old Wade, but more open about himself. More vulnerable. These walks were where you got to know Wade, and he got to know you. You had let him crash one night, not that long ago, when it was storming hard. He had already insisted on walking you home, storm be damned, and you repaid him with a home cooked meal, some trashy movie, and a night of conversation on your couch until you dozed off, your head lolling to the side and landing on his shoulder.

Hours later, you had woken up, now lying down and the comfortable weight of Wade’s hand in your hair from where your head rested on his thighs. By the time the sun rose, you were alone in your living room, the only trace Wade had been there being a sloppy drawing of the Deadpool mask and a heart he scribbled on the whiteboard of your fridge. You smiled at the doodle and left it up, it still being up there today.

You stood at your spot behind the bar a few weeks later when someone new walked into the building, and you tilted your head. Newcomers weren’t entirely unheard of, but they were pretty rare, especially on a weekday. You took in the man as he stood near the doorway; brown hair, and oh fuck, good beard. The leather jacket he wore did little to hide how muscular he was and you watched as he scanned the room. Body tense, as if looking for potential threats. Potential ways out if danger occurred. Not like anyone would mess with him, aura alone enough to scare off anyone within a ten foot radius, let alone the hard look in his eyes.

Still, he walked over to the bar and took a seat. You offered a gentle smile, watching for another second before speaking. “You seem like a whiskey fan.”

His hazel gaze shifted up to meet your eyes, and you felt as if he was staring right into your god damned soul. It was intimidating, it was hot, and you couldn’t decide whether you should look away or lean in and-

“Yeah. Whiskey’s nice.” He nodded his head towards a bottle behind you. You nodded and went to pour a glass as he spoke again. “You always try to guess orders?”

“Only the interesting ones. Or the pretty ones.” You winked before turning, smiling when you heard the slightest huff of amusement. “Haven’t seen you here before. New in town?”

“Somethin’ like that.” You turned back around, setting the glass in front of him, propping up on your elbows as he drank. “Thanks.” He looked familiar but god, you couldn’t place where you had seen him before. You made light conversation, most of the talking done by you, but you found that you didn’t mind. He listened, intently. Everything he did seemed to be intense, like it was his default. You were grateful for the slow night, getting to see a glimpse of the man behind the bulletproof walls he had clearly built around himself.

“You thirsty slut! Of course I’d find you here.” You heard Wade’s voice before you saw him, and an annoyed scowl took over the unknown man’s face.

“Thirsty slut? Thought that was your autobiography title,” you said and Wade gasped in mock offense.

“You know I don’t read! Mocking the illiterate, how dare you?” Wade hopped onto the counter, hip almost knocking the glass of whiskey over.

“I don’t get how you’re late to a place you wanted to go to.” The brunette man said, voice low and rough, and Wade waved a hand dismissively.

“So uptight, can you believe it? Need to pull the stick out of your ass, maybe put it in-“

“La la la la la, not listening,” you sang, covering your ears, and Wade turned to you.

“You traitor! I leave you alone for five minutes and Wolvie has his claws in you.” Wolvie… Holy fuck, you were trying to flirt with the Wolverine. “And, Peanut, you know I’d never be late on purpose. Except I really needed to piss, then I got distracted by this really cute dog outside and I ended up totally abandoning my favorite dog.” Wade reached out to pat him, and you watched as a sliver of claws extended from his hands. A warning that didn’t seem to deter Wade much, but he did put his hand down. “Well, might as well introduce you.” Wade told you his name was Logan, and Wade told Logan your name in return.

You and Wade continued to talk, Logan yet again preferring to listen rather than join the conversation. Wade told the story of how he met Logan, how together the two of them essentially saved the world, and how the two of them were now roommates. Begrudgingly, according to Logan, but Wade seemed thrilled about his ‘roomie’.

It was hours later when the three of you left the bar. Wade insisted on walking you home, taking your hand in his and skipping down the street with you. Logan was a few paces behind you, his presence a comforting sense behind you. Where Wade was loud, in your face, Logan seemed to be the quiet lurker type. He’d hide in the shadows, making himself known when he felt threatened. You walked up to your front door, unlocking the door and Wade helped himself inside. You rolled your eyes and turned to Logan, who lingered on your doorstep.

“If you want to come in, you’re more than welcome. At least one of you has manners,” you called towards where Wade stood in your kitchen and cackled. Logan nodded, muttering a ‘Thank you’ as he walked inside, his shoulder brushing against yours gently. You shut the door behind you and Wade opened your fridge.

“Aww, pookie, you kept my drawing!” There was a hint of an unfamiliar emotion in his voice… something, something new. You couldn’t place it, yet you smiled anyways.

“Of course I did, Wade.” Now that you were in the safety of your house, Wade’s mask had been discarded on your kitchen counter and you could see the smile on his face. “Get out of my fridge, you leech.“

“I’m starving,” Wade whined and you turned to look at Logan. He stood a little awkwardly, and you gestured to the couch, taking a seat and smiling when he followed suit. He sat on the cushion furthest from you, but you didn’t question it.

Logan couldn’t help but study you. There was an obvious familiarity between you and Wade, you matching his wit and comebacks, but you were different when you spoke to him. You were quieter, more reigned in. Strangely not out of fear, but as if you were trying to make him comfortable. You switched between Wade and Logan like it was second nature, and the more he talked to you and the more he watched you and Wade, he felt himself begin to relax just a little.

He didn’t realize how much time had passed until Wade, ever the charmer, let out a dramatic yawn, throwing his hands up in the air as he stretched. “Well, cupcake. I think it’s about time we head home. Old man is already up way past his bedtime.” Wade yelped as he jumped back, barely missing the claws that protruded from Logan’s hand, and he stuck his tongue out at him. “Grumpy grandpa.”

You stood and Logan followed suit. Wade kissed your cheek before saying goodbye and stepping outside, leaving you and Logan alone.

“I hope I’ll see you again, Logan.” Your voice was gentle, your smile even more so, and Logan nodded.

“I’ll be around. Don’t think I have much of a choice with that one.” There was a sliver of fondness mixed with the exasperation in his voice, and Logan started to walk outside. “Goodnight, bub.” Logan closed the door behind him, lingering until he heard your locks click shut. He caught up with Wade a moment later and Wade gave him the biggest shit eating grin ever.

“Is someone melting the big bad wolf’s heart?” The metallic clang followed by Wade’s pained grunt made Logan laugh, and Wade shoved his shoulder.

“Wait until she sees what an asshole you are. Then she’ll realize I’m the better half of this friendship.” The two men continued to bicker the entire way home, both of them thinking about when they’d get to see you next.

[quinzzelx]

Eros

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Well....How do I put this. This is Porn with Plot. Filth, with a bit of an unhinged story. You're on a mission with Azriel. After an ambush, you get into a fight and find yourselves to be captured by some sick people. Word Count: 11K

Warnings: Smut, pure FILTH, a bit Angsty, Slight Dub!Con, Voyeurism, Canon typical Violence, blood, Mentions of Sex-trafficking, some type of sex pollen/potion, forced intimacy, porn with plot, 18+

A/N: Guys, I swear that I DID SEE the voting turned out to be Fluff, and I will be posting that one soon. BUT- please only read this if you feel comfortable with darker tones. I had to get this out here. Jeez, enjoy. ☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

Sometimes, bad things happen. In fact, they occur all too frequently, by all the gods' reckoning. Azriel could swear he attracted bad luck like a magnet. But this? He cursed under his breath, feeling as if fate were playing a cruel joke on him.

He groaned, frustration evident as his hand ran down his face. Of all times for misfortune to strike, it had to be while he was on a mission with you. "What?" You snapped at him, your eyes squinted in concentration as you struggled to fix the sheath of your dagger. With a huff of frustration, the dagger and its sheath fell to the ground, clinking and scattering. You muttered something under your breath, wincing as you shifted on the log you were perched upon.

Azriel paced in the small forest clearing, muttering to himself. "For fuck's sake, Rhys!" he shouted inwardly, though it proved futile. Hours had passed since he first attempted to reach Rhys, to no avail. Either they were too far away or something was interfering with the connection. "I can't reach Rhys."

You snorted at his statement, rolling your eyes. "No shit, Azriel. If you could, he'd be here by now." His jaw clenched, his narrowed eyes landing on your hunched form still seated on the log in the center of the clearing. They trailed over your injured left wing, twisted at an unnatural angle. With an irritated twitch of his upper lip, his scowl deepened.

"If you had paid attention while flying, we wouldn't be in this mess," he said, his tone harsher than intended.

"Excuse me?" Enraged, you stood up and marched toward him, your face contorted in anger, a slight limp accompanying each step. "I got shot by a damn Asharrow coated in Faebane!"

"Exactly!" He snarled, taking another step to close the distance between you. "How did that even happen?" A humorless laugh escaped you as you met his gaze. "Are you serious?"

When his expression only hardened, your anger resurfaced. "Oh, you really are serious!" You swallowed the lump in your throat, closing the distance between you and jabbing a pointed finger at his chest angrily. "You!" you hissed between gritted teeth. "If you had actually listened when I said I needed a break, I might have been able to pay more attention!"

In fact, you had asked for a break numerous times. However, the group you were tracking didn't seem to consider breaks necessary. They had been abducting young females and males all over Prythian for months. When they crossed into the borders of the Night Court and ambushed a small village, Rhysand had dispatched you two immediately. Several days had already passed since you crossed into Winter, and now you were venturing into Autumn territory.

Azriel growled lowly, catching your wrist with his hand to prevent you from stabbing at his chest again. "You obviously shouldn't have come on this mission then," he said, his voice as cold as ice. For some reason, Azriel was always harsher with you. You had tried, really tried to make him warm up to you, but this thick-headed male infuriated you like no one else. There had been a time when you would have called him a close friend, someone you could confide in.

You had met Cassian and Rhys in Windhaven on the day they first established that Wingclipping was forbidden and never to be done again. You had always found ways to avoid it, making yourself sick with different herbs and mushrooms, because for whatever reason and little morals the Illyrians held, they didn't want to clip a sick female's wings. The irony was beyond you, but it worked for some decades. That day, your uncle had found you preparing the mixture that made you sick and unleashed his wrath upon you. He had dragged you outside by your hair while you thrashed and clawed at him, begging him to let you keep your wings, pleading for mercy.

As if the Mother had heard your pleas, Rhys and Cassian arrived just as a group of men were holding you down to make an example out of you. Taking advantage of their temporary distraction, you kicked up at the jaw of your uncle holding you down, breaking it. He howled in agony, clutching at the broken bone. One of his friends tried to punch you then, but you dodged him, elbowing him in the gut and headbutting him when he fell to his knees.

In that moment, you probably looked like the personification of pure fury, blood dripping from your split lip, broken nose, and dislocated shoulder. Still, you fought, not only breaking these men's frail egos but also their weak bones. Rhysand was angry, standing tall and making a strong example out of their behavior, executing them for their act of treason and hurling insults at him. He was the High Lord, and no one was to disobey his orders. Cassian tended to you, helping with your shoulder and beaming proudly at you. He started training you from that day on. They had seen your sheer willpower, strength, and potential. And potential indeed. These days, you wore not one, but three siphons. Yes, you still weren't as powerful as Cassian or Azriel, but you weren't weak either. The average Illyrian had nothing on you.

They soon took you to Velaris with them, where you quickly found yourself becoming one of Mor's best friends. Azriel was always wary around you, distant at first. But for years, you had enjoyed talking to each other. Only in the past four had he become distant again, seemingly even disliking you and your company. And you found yourself becoming resentful too. You could have lived with it if you never got along in the first place, but this sudden change made you angry at yourself for ever having a crush on this stupid male in the first place!

"Fuck you, Azriel!" you spat at him, your head red with anger. Both of you had been flying for three days straight, resting only twice. You had only spotted the arrow at the last moment, dodging it just as it was about to strike your head. But despite your efforts, it found its mark, lodging right into your shoulder. A second arrow followed swiftly, tearing through one of your wings. The pain was excruciating, and a strong gust of wind threw you off balance, causing you to crash into Azriel with full force, sending both of you plummeting towards the ground. Azriel momentarily lost his bearings, only regaining focus when you hurtled past him. With powerful beats of his wings, he caught up to you and wrapped you in his arms, but it was too late to slow the momentum. Together, you crashed through the trees, branches tearing at your skin before slamming into the unforgiving ground.

"I'm just saying that maybe Rhys has overestimated your capability," he stated nonchalantly, lowering his gaze to meet yours. Ripping your hand away from his grasp, you shoved at his chest, your voice snarling with rising anger. "Yes, I'm sorry to burden you. Maybe next time I'll just free-fall and accept death with open arms."

Without thinking, anger consuming him, Azriel growled, "Maybe you should." Any retort you had died in your throat. Wide-eyed and shocked, you took a step back, and only then did he realize the gravity of his words. His own eyes widened, filled with regret as he reached out to you, flinching when you dodged him and hurried to retrieve your dropped dagger. "Wait—I—" he called out, stepping toward you, desperate to take back his words. He cursed himself as tears pricked at your eyes. "No, I understood perfectly," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. With one swift motion, you shouldered your bag and walked toward the opposite treeline.

Azriel's heart clenched as he called your name again, pleading for you to wait, to let him apologize and take back his words. But you cut him off, saying, "I'll scout the surroundings, see if I can find anything useful," before disappearing into the woods. He cursed himself once more, sending some of his shadows after you. Splitting up was dangerous, especially when enemies were nearby. Defeated, Azriel sank onto the log you had occupied earlier, sighing heavily as he buried his head in his hands. "Rhys," he spoke again, reaching out to his brother, "We were ambushed, and I messed up." As he sat there, waiting, his hazel eyes scanning the darkening sky, he cursed himself again.

A while later, a twig snapped to his right, and his head whipped around. Had you finally returned? His shadows frantically warned of danger. Standing up, he gripped Truthteller tightly, ready to face whatever came his way.

"Behind you!" his shadows screamed, but before he could react, a blunt object struck his head, and a syringe found its way into his neck. With a grunt, he collapsed to the ground.

☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

Something was definitely amiss. Azriel's senses felt muddled, his consciousness drifting in and out like waves against a shore. Hadn't he just been... flying? No, he was on a mission. Flying, no, falling. A groan escaped his lips as dizziness overwhelmed him. He attempted to rub a hand over his face to clear his thoughts, but something restrained his wrists, pulling against his movements with a metallic clink. Groggily, he tried to pry his eyes open, but they felt heavy, weighted down by an impenetrable darkness. Panic stirred within him as he struggled against his bindings, the realization sinking in that he was not where he should be. Where was he? And more importantly, where were you? His brows furrowed in frustration as he tugged on his other arm, only to find it chained as well.

"Fuck!." Whipping his head around, an alarming feeling of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. Surveying his surroundings, he noted the darkness but discerned the wooden floor. Good, this meant he was either in a village or some kind of building. His arms were chained to the ground next to his body, where he sat leaning against the wall. Confusion swept over him when he realized his legs were relatively free to move. Chains wrapped around his ankles, but the chain was longer. He surmised he could walk around the whole room if he wasn't anchored to the ground by his arms.

His eyes continued to sweep through the dark room, gradually adjusting to the dimness as he squinted, attempting to focus on what lay on the other side of the room. At the other side of the room, a table gradually emerged from the darkness, its silhouette becoming clearer to Azriel's eyes. As he discerned more barely-there furniture, a sense of dread washed over him. This was no ordinary room. It was a torture chamber, though unlike any he was familiar with from Hewn City. Whips, clamps, syringes, and various other implements of torture adorned the space, along with devices he couldn't even identify. His gaze lingered on a table adorned with chain locks, clearly intended to restrain victims.

Chains were strewn everywhere, giving the room an ominous and foreboding atmosphere. What kind of place was this? The smell assaulted his senses—blood, urine, and something else, something sickeningly familiar yet repulsive: arousal. His stomach churned in disgust at the realization of the horrors that had taken place within these walls. He attempted to summon his shadows, hoping for their familiar comfort and assistance, but nothing responded. Faebane. His heart sank at the realization of the poison's presence. Determination fueled his actions as he tried once more to pull on his restraints, but a piercing scream from outside the room froze him in place.

"Don't touch me!" Your voice, muffled yet unmistakable, sent panic coursing through him. Gritting his teeth, he ripped and tugged at his chains with renewed force. Outside, commotion ensued, accompanied by the creaking of a door. The sounds of struggle intensified, punctuated by a sharp slap that echoed through the room, causing Azriel's eyes to narrow in anger. "She damn well bit me," someone exclaimed amid the chaos. More noise followed, and then the door swung open fully, allowing light to seep into the room as several figures stumbled in, three of them carrying your thrashing form. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he took in your distressed state. You were cursing at them, fighting back with every bit of strength you could still muster. His eyes quickly swept over you from across the room as they threw you onto the table with a force that elicited a loud crack.

His heart stopped then. Where were your fighting leathers? What sick place was this? You were dressed in a white, very sheer and drenched dress that ended just above your knees. One of them grabbed your thigh forcefully, and he saw red. Screaming at them with a hoarse voice, Azriel struggled against his restraints, his muscles straining against the chains binding him to the ground. "Leave her alone, you bastards!" he roared, his voice echoing in the chamber. But his cries fell on deaf ears as they continued their assault on you, their intentions horrifyingly clear. One of the many males in the room laughed at Azriel's futile threats.

"Don't worry, Shadowsinger, your time will come," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice. Azriel clenched his jaw, his frustration mounting at his inability to protect you. As they chained you to the table, Azriel's panic surged. Your hands were bound together above your head, your legs hanging over the edge of the table and spread, tied to each leg. The sight sent a surge of fury coursing through him. "What is this? What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice thick with rage and desperation. But his questions were met with only sinister chuckles from the assailants.

Your eyes met Azriel's, and something washed over your features—a mixture of desperation and fear. "Please," you choked out, your voice trembling with emotion, "I beg you, not in front of him." Azriel's heart clenched at your plea, his gaze filled with anguish and determination. Despite his restraints, he struggled against the chains binding him, his muscles straining with the effort. "I won't let them touch you," he vowed, his voice laced with fierce resolve. Though powerless to act, his eyes conveyed a silent promise. The one who had spoken earlier chuckled darkly as the others moved to silence you, advancing with a gag. Your head thrashed around in a desperate attempt to fend them off.

Your body trembled, chest heaving, the wet white dress clinging to your form like a second skin, barely concealing anything. It left little to the imagination, the cold causing your nipples to harden as you fought against them, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Your black wings, a stark contrast against the white fabric, remained spread out behind you, a symbol of your strength and defiance even in this vulnerable state.

Azriel's heart twisted with anguish as he watched their hands on your wings, holding you down, causing you to shiver and writhe even more. A soft whine and gasp escaped you involuntarily, the sound tearing at his soul. Fury contorted Azriel's face as he snarled at them, his anger palpable. "Dare to touch her again, and I will cut your hands off," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. But his threats were met with mocking laughter from the group, their disdain evident in their sneers.

"How would you manage that chained to the ground?" one of them taunted, their words dripping with cruelty. The group, consisting of about ten males and some females, settled a little farther away, some taking seats while others remained standing beside you. Azriel's rage burned hotter at their mockery, his muscles tensing with the urge to break free and unleash his wrath upon them. Your chest heaved, teeth sinking into the cloth they had used to gag you as you struggled against their restraint. Seeking solace in Azriel's unwavering gaze amidst the chaos surrounding you, your eyes locked onto his. "You see, we were kind of growing bored of watching High Fae," the male spoke again, his tone laced with malice. He was tall, fatter than the others, with grey hair and a posture exuding arrogance. Confusion flickered between you and Azriel as you listened. "You still haven't figured out what we do?"

Azriel's anger burned fiercely as he glared at them, his fists clenched in impotent rage. The male continued, revealing their twisted motives. They watched prisoners engage in sexual acts or forced themselves upon them, all while testing out new weapons, torture devices, and potions. They reveled in the power they wielded over their captives. "And when we found out the High Lord of the Night Court sent two Illyrians after us?" The fat, grey-haired man sneered, his voice filled with twisted excitement. "Well, well, it seemed like we're in for quite the treat. Illyrians are known for their stamina and prowess after all."

"You two especially are a treat to look at," the male leered, his gaze lingering on your exposed form with undisguised lust. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but anger burned brighter in your eyes as you glared at him. "Rumor has it," he began, circling around the table you were strapped onto, his voice dripping with malicious intent, "that Illyrian wings are very sensitive." He punctuated his words with a sinister smile, sending a chill down your spine. Azriel's eyes widened with horror as he watched the man's dirty hands trail over the delicate membrane of your wings.

A growl rumbled deep in his throat, but he remained trapped, his muscles tensed with the urge to break free and tear the man limb from limb. You couldn't suppress an embarrassed moan as the man's fingers grazed over a particularly sensitive spot on your wing, the sensation sending shivers down your spine and igniting a blush on your cheeks. Illyrians were notoriously protective of their wings; allowing someone else to touch them was considered a significant display of trust. The violation of this boundary filled you with a sense of vulnerability and violation, intensifying your anger and humiliation in the face of such blatant disrespect. The dirty male's gaze shifted back to Azriel, lifting Truthteller in his hand, a cruel smirk playing on his lips as he brandished Azriel's own dagger.

"You see, Shadowsinger, we've got ourselves a little experiment planned," he said, his voice oozing with malice. Azriel's eyes narrowed, a cold fury simmering beneath the surface as he listened intently. "We've got this new love potion we've been itching to try out," the man continued, his tone sickeningly cheerful. "And we thought, what better way to test it than on our favorite pair of Illyrians? "Azriel's shock was evident, his voice laced with disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, but we are," the man chuckled darkly. "You and the lady here," he gestured toward you with a lewd grin, "will be our little test-subjects. One of you will get the pleasure of enjoying its effects firsthand." Azriel's heart sank at the realization of what they were proposing. He couldn't bring himself to do something so violating to you, not like this. Though he had harbored certain thoughts about you, this was beyond anything he had ever imagined. "I will not do that to her," he declared through gritted teeth, his voice laced with defiance and disgust. The look on your face was difficult to decipher, a mixture of fear, anger, and betrayal evident in your tear-filled eyes.

As someone approached with a syringe filled with a blue liquid, your breath caught in your throat. The cold sting of the needle piercing your skin sent shivers down your spine, your body trembling with a sense of dread. The male's smirk widened as he used Truthteller to cut the dress from your body, exposing your breasts and leaving you vulnerable and exposed before their leering eyes. The effects of the potion began to take hold, distorting your senses and leaving you in a state of heightened arousal. Your pupils dilated, your chest heaving with each ragged breath, and your legs trembling beneath you as the drug coursed through your veins.

"Lorsh," the man called for another male, summoning him to join their twisted game. As Lorsh stepped forward, rising from his chair with predatory intent, a sense of dread washed over you. "If our Shadowsinger won't do the honor, you can have her," the man declared, his words sending a chill down your spine. No, this couldn't be happening. You shook your head slightly, trying to fight against the effects of the potion as your gaze turned to Azriel once more, silently pleading for him to intervene.

Azriel's heart clenched with desperation as he watched the scene unfolding before him. He couldn't bear to see you subjected to such degradation, such violation. With a ferocity that echoed off the walls, Azriel's voice cut through the tense atmosphere. "Don't you dare touch her! I swear, I'll break your hands before I let you lay another finger on her!" His words dripped with a protective fury, his eyes ablaze with a primal instinct to shield you from any harm.

"I'll do it," he declared, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and resolve, "but not at the expense of her dignity. I'll be the one." A sickening delight spread across the male's face as he licked his lips, relishing in the twisted power play unfolding before him. With a gesture, he commanded another to throw the key for the arm chains to Azriel, a malicious grin playing on his lips as he watched the exchange.

As Azriel caught the key, the man retreated, his voice dripping with a sickening satisfaction. "You see, these chains on your legs will keep you tethered to this table," he clarified, his tone filled with sadistic amusement. "But don't get any ideas about getting close enough to kill us. You won't succeed." Azriel's jaw clenched with frustration at the limitations of his movements, but his resolve remained unbroken. As Azriel hurried towards you, relief flickered in your eyes as you locked gazes once more. Stopping in front of you, Azriel's heart hammered in his chest as he faced the daunting task ahead. His mind raced with possibilities, seeking a way to ensure your safety amidst the chaos surrounding you. "You may do as you please with her," the male declared, his voice dripping with malicious intent.

Azriel's heart sank at the man's words, grappling with the limitations imposed upon him. "Can I untie her?" he asked, his voice tinged with desperation. If he could free you from the table, maybe you could fight your way out of this nightmare. If unchained, you could reach a weapon and turn the tide.

But his hopes were dashed as the man's cruel decree fell upon his ears. "No, you can free her from the table if you must, but you cannot completely unbind her hands," the man stated, his words a death sentence to Azriel's hopes. "They will stay tied together." The look on Azriel's face was one of pure sorrow.

Determination surged through him as Azriel clenched his jaw, bracing himself to make this ordeal as bearable as possible for you. With steady hands, he reached for the gag, untying it and freeing your mouth from its suffocating restraint. Next, he carefully loosened the straps that held your arms and legs in place, his movements deliberate and gentle.

As he brushed against your skin, a jolt of electricity coursed through him at the sinful sound of your moan. His heart clenched with both guilt and longing as the realization of the drug's effects washed over him. “I’m sorry.” Your apology only added to the turmoil raging within him, a bleak reminder of the violation of your consent. His voice trembled with uncertainty as Azriel locked eyes with you, his own turmoil mirrored in your gaze. "Is this okay?" he asked, his words barely more than a whisper, filled with a desperate plea for reassurance amidst the chaos. Your nod was barely perceptible, accompanied by a whimper that tugged at Azriel's heartstrings. "I don't mind if it's you," you whispered, your voice trembling with vulnerability and trust.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat at your words, relief and distress flooding through him. His gaze lingered over your exposed form, desire and guilt warring within him. Despite the circumstances, he couldn't deny the allure of your beauty, the vulnerability you displayed beneath him. Guilt washed over him as arousal stirred, his body responding to the primal urge.

Swallowing hard, he fought to rein in his need, guiding your hands from above your head to rest on your stomach. As he intertwined his fingers with yours, he felt your whine of anticipation reverberate through him, igniting a heat between your spread legs. "Look at me," he murmured softly, seeking to soothe you. "I'm here," he whispered, filled with reassurance. "I'll keep you safe."

But beneath the reassurances lay desire. "I'll make you forget they're watching," he promised, leaning closer, his breath hot against your skin. "In this moment, it's just you and me," he continued, a promise of intimacy amidst the chaos. "I'll show you pleasure beyond anything you've known." Each word dripped with longing. "I want to make it better for you," he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he leaned closer, his lips grazing your earlobe. "Tell me what you need."

As your body trembled beneath him, a surge of arousal coursed through Azriel at your vulnerability. "Touch me, please," you pleaded, your voice shaky with need. His heart clenched with longing as he resisted his own desires, focusing instead on easing your discomfort.

"It hurts, Azriel," you whispered, anguish and need evident in your voice. His own arousal forgotten, he concentrated solely on comforting you. "I'll make it better," he vowed, determination lacing his voice as he sought to ease your suffering and fulfill your desperate longing for pleasure.

Tears streamed down your flushed cheeks as you squeezed his hand, seeking comfort. "I'm sorry, this is all my fault," you whimpered, self-blame and anguish evident in your trembling voice and quivering lip. Azriel's heart ached at your words, the weight of your guilt heavy upon him. "No, it's not your fault," he murmured softly, his voice tender as he wiped away your tears. "None of this is your fault."

Ignoring the sickening gaze of the others, Azriel clenched his jaw with fury. With a deep breath, he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, his voice low and intense. "I will end them," he growled softly, promising to protect you at any cost. "Every last one of them." As he felt his powers surging back, an ancient energy thrumming beneath his skin, he knew he had to bide his time, to wait for the perfect moment to strike.

Leaning back slightly, his gaze locked with yours, a smoldering heat burning in his eyes. "How do you want me?" he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he sought to give you control in a situation where you had none. "Az..Need you" Face constricted in pure longing you sucked in your bottom lip. With a thoughtful expression, he trailed his finger down your trembling form, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you both. Lower and lower he traced, until he reached the boundary where the drenched fabric of your dress began again.

"Here?" he murmured, his voice husky as he gazed over your pubic bone, his eyes smoldering with heat. Your mewl of pleasure echoed in the air, the sensation of his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. With a whimper of agreement, you nodded eagerly, your face contorted in pure longing as you looked up at him through thick lashes. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breathy whimper, your body writhing under his touch as you surrendered yourself to him.

"Fine," he muttered, lust thick in his voice as he gave in to fervent longing. With a swift, almost savage motion, he ripped the last bit of the dress open, a low rumble escaping his throat. Your yelp mingled with a gasp of pleasure as your body was fully exposed to him, the sudden rush of sensation sending shivers down your spine. The air crackled with electricity as Azriel's gaze swept over your exposed form, his eyes dark as he drank in the sight of you.

Azriel's mind swirled with a tumult of conflicting emotions as he hovered over you, his fingers tracing patterns of guilt and desire on your trembling skin. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was responsible for the predicament you found yourself in. If only he had been more attentive, more cautious, none of this would have happened. But even as he berated himself for his mistakes, a dark, twisted part of him reveled in the power he held over you now.

As he watched you quiver under his touch, he felt a surge of arousal mingled with self-loathing wash over him. He was sick, twisted, and yet he couldn't deny the rush of pleasure that coursed through him at the sight of you laid bare before him.

Groaning in frustration, he narrowed his eyes, his resolve faltering momentarily before he forced himself to continue. Tracing a finger lower, he felt the tension in your body as you clenched your thighs, seeking relief from the overwhelming sensations that consumed you. But Azriel wouldn't allow it, not yet. With a growl, he forced your legs back open, his gaze fixed on your glistening core, evidence of your arousal under the influence of their vile drug. Deliberately, he brushed a finger through your folds, eliciting an intense reaction from you. Your body flinched, your core clenching around nothing but air as pleasure and pain collided within you.

A needy whine echoed through the room, reverberating off the walls as you squeezed your eyes shut in desperate longing. Azriel's eyes widened at the sound, his heart clenching with desire and fury. "Please, more. It hurts," you pleaded again, your voice thick with need. His jaw clenched as he fought the urge to unleash his fury upon those who had brought you to this state. You were suffering because of their sick, twisted games, and he swore to himself that they would pay dearly for it.

"I'm here, love," he cooed softly, his voice soothing. With a lazy motion, he began to draw circles on your sensitive bud, his touch both tender and electrifying. Finally, unable to resist any longer, he dragged two of his fingers down again, sinking them into your awaiting heat. A hiss escaped his lips as he felt you clench around his fingers immediately, your core desperately trying to draw them in. "Azriel," your voice left your lips in a sinful moan, sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine. He felt himself twitch in his pants at the way you said his name.

Picking up his pace, he arched his fingers, pumping them deeper. Unable to resist the intoxicating scent and taste of you, he leaned forward, carefully extending his tongue as he licked up from where his fingers were buried deep within you, moving steadily up to your sensitive bud before sucking on it with fervent hunger. A deep, guttural groan escaped his throat as the taste of you flooded his senses. You were on the brink of release, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you whimpered and pleaded for more. Each flick of Azriel's tongue, each harsh suck on your bundle of nerves sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your trembling form.

When his mouth left your clit after one final, intense suck, you heard a groan from the corner of the room. Azriel's keen senses immediately picked up on your movement as you started to turn your head toward the source of the sound, but his other hand, not the one still buried deep inside you, found your face, forcing you to look back at him.

His expression was stern, his gaze piercing as he locked eyes with you. "Eyes on me," he ordered, his voice commanding yet filled with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the moment. "Watch as I make you come." With a firm yet gentle touch, he guided your gaze back to his, his eyes burning with a fierce determination to pleasure you beyond measure. And as you obediently focused on him, the weight of the room and its twisted audience faded into the background.

You watched Azriel with rapt attention as his fingers worked wonders inside you, driving you to the edge of ecstasy with each skillful thrust. Your hips instinctively met his movements, grinding against his hand in a desperate quest for release. Despite the intensity of the moment, Azriel's concentration remained focused elsewhere.

His shadows slithered through the room, silent and deadly, creeping toward their unsuspecting victims. One shadow had already retrieved Truthteller, waiting patiently for its master's command. As you soared to the peak of pleasure, your body convulsing with the force of your climax, you released a torrent of ecstasy, squirting all over Azriel's hand and leathers.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice a low growl of satisfaction as he allowed you to use his fingers to ride out your orgasm. But as you basked in the afterglow, the lust in Azriel's eyes gave way to a chilling darkness. With deliberate slowness, he withdrew his fingers from you, straightening his back as he met your gaze. Parting his lips, he slowly sucked the remnants of your arousal from his fingers, cleaning them off with a deliberate thoroughness.

And then, in the blink of an eye, he unleashed his wrath upon the twisted individuals in the room. His shadows surged forward, wrapping around the unsuspecting males, snapping their bones with lethal precision. Some shadows slithered into their lungs, suffocating them with tendrils of darkness. Truthteller gleamed in his hand as he swiftly dispatched nearly all of them, their bodies falling lifeless to the ground within seconds. But he saved the one who had dared to touch your wings earlier for last. As the man's eyes widened in fear, Azriel loomed over him, his Siphons glowing bright with unleashed power.

"You filthy male," Azriel's voice was ice-cold, his words dripping with contempt as he confronted the perpetrator. "Enjoy watching helpless Fae get violated?" With lightning speed, he caught the man's wrists, his shadows swirling around them as the room was consumed by darkness.

For each finger he severed with Truthteller, Azriel delivered a damning sentence. "This one," he intoned with chilling precision, "is for touching her wings."

“This one," he hissed with lethal intent, "is for the innocence you defiled." The blade sliced through flesh and bone effortlessly, leaving a trail of severed digits in its wake.

With each finger severed, Azriel's voice grew colder, more menacing. "And this one," he continued, his tone dripping with venom, "is for the fear you inflicted." The man's agonized screams filled the room, mingling with the sound of metal meeting flesh.

As the bloodied fingers littered the ground, Azriel's gaze bore into the man's soul, his eyes ablaze with righteous fury. "Remember this," he spat, his voice a low, ominous rumble, "for every drop of her pain, you will pay tenfold." Azriel's grip tightened around Truthteller as he gazed down at the mutilated figure before him. With a swift, calculated motion, he brought the blade down once more, severing the man's remaining hand with grim determination. "Shame that I cannot take my time with you," he muttered, his voice devoid of mercy, as he plunged Truthteller through the man's throat.

While the male gurgled and choked on his own blood, Azriel withdrew the blade with a steely resolve. With a final, lethal thrust, he ensured the man's demise, his shadows already dispersing to scout the building for any remaining threats and to locate proper attire for you both. Breathing heavily, Azriel attempted to quell the raging storm of fury within him, the splatter of blood marring his face and clothes serving as a grim reminder of the savagery he had unleashed. In that moment, he longed for the confines of his torture chamber in Hewn City, where he could have taken his time with these vile creatures.

A soft cry pierced the air, drawing Azriel's attention. With a start, he turned to find you on the ground, trembling on all fours, the remnants of your once-white dress clinging to your form. With swift, purposeful strides, he approached you, his expression unreadable as he assessed your condition. Blood and tears mingled on your face, your trembling form a testament to the horrors you had endured.

Kneeling beside you, Azriel reached out a hand, his touch surprisingly gentle as he brushed aside strands of hair plastered to your sweat-soaked skin. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with an undercurrent of concern. Despite the fury still raging within him, a flicker of something akin to tenderness sparked in his eyes as he gazed upon you.

Without waiting for your response, he moved to free you from the remnants of the torn dress and chains, his movements efficient but careful. As the fabric fell away, revealing the bruises and welts marring your skin, a surge of anger welled up within him once more. "I'll get you out of here," he vowed, his tone firm.

With a deft motion, he wrapped his cloak around you that his shadows had brought, shielding you from prying eyes and offering a semblance of protection against the chill of the night. "Hold on to me," he instructed, his voice commanding yet oddly comforting. "We're leaving this place, and I won't let anyone harm you further."

Rising to his feet, Azriel gathered you into his arms, holding you close as he carried you from the chamber of horrors. As you clung to him, he swore to himself that he would never let anyone hurt you again.

Azriel winnowed you to the inn they had booked a room in three days prior, the exertion causing him to stumble slightly upon arrival. Despite his weariness, he carried you with care to the bathroom, settling you down before running a bath. Your silence weighed heavily in the air, your gaze fixed ahead as if lost in the depths of your own thoughts.

"I'm so sorry you had to endure this," you finally spoke, the words heavy with emotion.

Rushing to your side, Azriel gently cradled your face in his hands, his heart aching at the sight of your pain. "No, love, it's me who should be apologizing," he murmured, disbelief coloring his tone. "I failed to protect you, and I let those monsters lay a hand on you."

Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as you shook your head, a soft sigh escaping your lips. "It wasn't your fault," you insisted, your voice barely above a whisper. "We were both in that situation together." Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I promise to make it up to you," he vowed, his voice laced with determination. "Starting with getting you cleaned up and taking care of you."

Feeling the lingering effects of the drug, you sank into the warm water with Azriel's assistance, trying to hide the discomfort that still gnawed at your senses. Despite your efforts, the telltale signs of your distress were evident to him, your body tensing at the slightest touch, your skin still flushed with fever.

Azriel noticed your unease, his brows furrowing in concern as he observed your strained movements. Gently, he reached out, his touch feather-light as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "Easy, love," he murmured soothingly, his voice a soft reassurance. "I'm here with you. Just relax, and let the water ease away the pain." Though his words offered comfort, you couldn't shake the lingering discomfort that coursed through your body. Despite your best efforts to hide it, Azriel's keen gaze didn't miss a thing, his eyes filled with empathy as he watched you struggle to find solace in the water's embrace.

With a gentle hand, he began to massage your shoulders, his touch tender yet firm as he worked to alleviate the tension that gripped your muscles. Gradually, you felt the knots begin to loosen, the warmth of the water seeping into your bones and offering a fleeting sense of relief. As Azriel massaged your shoulders, you couldn't suppress a slight whimper, the tension in your body betraying the pain that still lingered within you. Heat flooded your cheeks as you immediately apologized, feeling embarrassed by your body's involuntary response.

Azriel's movements faltered slightly at the sound, his senses heightened by the scent of your arousal that filled the air. Swallowing hard, he fought to keep his own desires in check, the tension between you palpable in the confined space of the bathroom.

You stuttered slightly as you tried to explain, your words coming out in fragmented whispers. "I'm sorry... I just..." Another whimper escaped your lips as you curled into yourself, pulling your legs to your chest in a feeble attempt to shield yourself from the discomfort that still plagued you. "It still hurts."

Azriel paused for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in as he contemplated his next move. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy and deep, tinged with sincerity. "Do you want me to help?" Your eyes widened at the question, your body trembling slightly as you shook your head. "Please don't do this because you pity me," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.

Furrowing his brow, Azriel leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking with yours. "Believe me," he murmured, his tone firm and unwavering. "Me fucking you would have nothing to do with pity." His words hung heavy in the air, filled with conviction and a promise of something more profound than mere sympathy.  As you met his gaze, your pupils blown and cheeks flushed, uncertainty still lingered in your eyes. Azriel noticed, and in that moment of vulnerability, he bared his own desires to you.

"If you had asked, I would have fucked you right there on that table," he confessed, his voice low and filled with raw desire. "No hesitation. No remorse. Just us." He paused, his gaze intense as he continued, his words tinged with a hint of  need. "And I would have taken my sweet time, making you forget any other male you've ever been with. I would have tasted every inch of you, every drop of your arousal, until you were begging for release."

He swallowed hard, his eyes burning into yours. "And afterwards," he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I would have savored the sight of you, laying there, fucked out and trembling, as I licked my cum from your cunt."  As he voiced his desires, your body responded instinctively, a low moan escaping your lips, anticipation coursing through you. The tension between you grew thick. In the heat of the moment, you couldn't resist expressing your own desires, your words dripping with longing and want. "I want you, Azriel," you murmured, your voice laced with need. "I want you to fuck me until I can't think straight, until I'm begging you to stop."

Without hesitation, your lips crashed into his, a desperate hunger igniting between you. The kiss was fierce, fueled by longing and desire. You surged from the bath, water splashing around you, and pressed your wet, naked body against his chest. He groaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating between your lips. Prying your lips open with his, his tongue ventured forth into your mouth, exploring every inch of you, as if he was trying to commit it to memory. "Shit, you have no idea how much you infuriate me," his voice rumbled deep in his chest. He pulls you from the bath then, hiking you up in his arms, hands on your thighs as you wrap your legs around his middle. "How effortlessly you occupy so much space in my mind."

As he carries you, your bodies pressed tightly together, Azriel's breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes dark with desire as he gazes into yours. "Gods, the restraint it took to keep myself from you," he confesses, his voice thick with emotion. "Every time I looked at you, on missions, during training... I wanted nothing more than to rip the clothes off your body and fuck you right then and there, for everyone to see."

His admission hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the heat of your desire. You can feel the intensity of his longing radiating from him, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both.

"And you, my love," he continues, his voice husky with desire, "the strength you possess, the way you could best me in one-on-one combat training... It drove me mad with desire, the urge to ravish you, to claim you as mine."

With each word, his voice grows more fervent, his grip on you tightening as he carries you toward the bed. "I couldn't bear the thought of hurting you," he admits, his tone laced with regret. "So I distanced myself, buried my desires deep within, but now..." He trails off, his eyes locking with yours, a hunger burning within them that mirrors your own.

"Now," he whispers, his voice barely more than a breathy murmur, "I can't hold back any longer. I need you, more than I've ever needed anything in my life." And with that, he lays you gently on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours as he begins to shed his own clothes, his movements urgent and desperate.

As he discards his pants, his cock springs free, slapping against his toned stomach. You gasp at the sight, salivating at the thought of wrapping your lips around the silky skin of his member. Crawling forward on the bed, you meet him at the edge where he still stands, your hunger evident in your gaze as you look up at him.

"I know I'm still influenced by the drug, and I'm incredibly aroused. I can practically feel myself dripping onto the bedsheets right now," you confess. His eyes darken at your admission, wandering over your form kneeling before him, lingering on your dripping core. "But believe me when I tell you that I have fantasized about this moment so many times, Azriel."

Biting your bottom lip slightly, you part your lips shortly after. "I want to pleasure you, to taste your beautiful cock, feel it glide down my throat, and I want you to use my mouth." God, your shameless words cause a faint blush to creep up his cheeks, his dark hair still disheveled from the day's events.

His cock twitches in anticipation as you confess your desires, your words sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. "I want you, Azriel," you continue, your voice low and sultry, "I need to taste you, to feel you fill my mouth and fuck me."

His own arousal surges to new heights at your shameless admission, his gaze locked on your lips, parted and inviting. "Then take me," he growls, his voice rough with need, "show me how much you want it." And with that, he guides himself to your waiting lips, his cock throbbing with anticipation as he presses against your tongue.

As you lower your mouth towards him, you flatten your tongue, tracing a strong strip up his long shaft, relishing the taste and texture of his skin. Your movements are deliberate, teasing, as you kitten-lick at his throbbing head, savoring every twitch and shudder that runs through his body.

Opening your mouth further, you eagerly suck him into your warmth, feeling him harden even more within your mouth. Your lips form a tight seal around him as you take him deeper, inch by inch, until he hits the back of your throat. You relax your throat muscles, taking him in completely, reveling in the feeling of fullness and the primal sounds of pleasure that escape him.

Your tongue dances around him, swirling and caressing, as you bob your head rhythmically, matching the pace of his rising desire. His hands find their way into your hair, threading through the strands as he guides your movements, urging you on with gentle pressure.

Each suction sends a wave of pleasure coursing through him, and you drink in every drop of his arousal, your own desire building with each passing moment. You're lost in the intoxicating rhythm of give and take, completely consumed by the need to pleasure him, to taste him, to feel him pulsing against your tongue.

As your lips wrap around him, Azriel grits his teeth, his eyes locked on you with a fierce intensity. He watches intently as you graze your teeth over the vein along his shaft, a deliberate tease that elicits a low growl from deep within his chest. He knows you're testing him, pushing him to the edge, and he can feel the tension coiling tighter with each passing second.

"You take me so well," he grunts through clenched teeth, his voice strained with desire. "Sucking my cock like that, driving me insane."

But as you continue to tease him, grazing your teeth and tongue over his sensitive skin, he feels himself reaching his limit. With a warning growl, he tightens his grip on your hair, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. "Keep teasing me like that, and I'll snap. I won't be able to hold back."

Your groan around his cock, a mischievous glint in your eyes, pushes him over the edge. With a growl of frustration, he releases you with a pop, watching as you smile innocently at him before flattening your tongue to lick up his shaft again. "You little minx," he breathes, his tone a mixture of frustration and desire. "You brought this upon yourself."

With that, he loses control, gripping your throat tightly as he uses your mouth for his own pleasure. His hips snap harshly, fucking your throat with an urgency that leaves you gasping for air. He can feel your gag reflex kicking in, but he doesn't relent, pushing you to your limits as he drives himself closer to the edge. "That's it, princess," he speaks through gritted teeth, his voice strained with need. "Take it all. You know you want it."

As he only pulls out when your eyes well with tears, gagging around him again, your jaw slack and drooling all over your chin, a string of saliva connects your mouth still to the tip of his cock as he retreats, chest heaving. He caresses your cheek, his touch gentle yet possessive, before dipping down to grab your chin with his thumb.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper as he gazes down at you. "So hungry for my cock. Bet your cunt is already waiting for me to bury myself inside it."

A whimper escapes your lips at his words, and he smirks down at you, the corners of his lips curling into a wicked grin. "Open your mouth again," he commands, guiding your head to lean back a bit as he slips his cock back into your warm mouth. He moans sinfully as he sheathes his cock into your willing mouth, the sensation sending shivers down his spine.

"Knees apart," he orders, his voice firm yet laced with desire, and you obey without hesitation, shifting to part your legs. You gasp around his length when you feel a cool touch on your thighs, sliding up your body. Your eyes widen in surprise when you realize he is using his shadows on you, and his smirk grows wider.

Your breath hitches as you feel friction between your legs, the shadows brushing against your clit, sliding through your wet heat. "You filthy thing," he chuckles lowly, his voice a dark whisper. "You like that," he states, groaning when your moan sends vibrations through his cock, intensifying the pleasure coursing through him. Your drugged form, heightened senses and all, nearly reaches the peak of ecstasy when one of his hands falls to knead one of your breasts and a shadow brushes over one of your wings softly. With a gasp, you pull back, your body shaking with need.

"Fuck, Azriel," you pant, your voice laced with desperation. "I need you inside of me." A wicked grin spreads across his lips as he looks down at you, his eyes smoldering with desire. "You want me to fill you up, don't you?" he growls, his voice dripping with raw lust. "You want my cock stretching you out, pounding into you until you can't take it anymore."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, desire coursing through you like wildfire. "Yes," you whimper, your voice barely more than a needy whisper. "Please, Azriel, I need you to fuck me hard." He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, "I'm going to make you scream my name, darling. You're going to beg for more, beg for me to never stop."

He lifts you slightly, guiding you as he turns you around, bending you over until you're on all fours, your wings fluttering with excitement. With a hand placed between your wings on your spine, he presses down, arching your back.

"God, you're gorgeous," he murmurs, admiring the sight before him. Using his knee, he nudges your legs apart, positioning himself behind you. "You're absolutely soaked."

Collecting some of your slick with his cock, he slides through your wet cunt, coating himself in your arousal. Your loud whine fills the air as you feel him grind into you. "Azriel," you moan his name, gasping when a harsh slap lands on your right ass cheek, leaving a handprint behind. Your pussy pulses with desire as you try to rub yourself against his hardness. "Fuck me," you seethe, your voice dripping with need.

He obliges, plunging into you with a force that sends your body reeling forward. You curse loudly as he inches deeper, until he's completely buried in your cunt, hitting your cervix. Azriel twitches at the tightness around him. "Shit, you're so tight," he groans, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you.

With a primal need driving him, Azriel begins to move within you, each thrust growing more relentless than the last. His hips collide with yours in a rhythm that's both punishing and intoxicating, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the room.

Your body responds eagerly to his every move, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor. Your moans fill the air, a symphony of desire that spurs him on further. Azriel's grip tightens on your hips as he sets a punishing pace, his cock delving deep into your slick heat with each powerful thrust.

The sensation is overwhelming, pleasure coursing through your veins like fire. Your nails dig into the sheets as you surrender to the ecstasy of his touch, your body arching against him in a desperate bid for more. As Azriel's thrusts grow more fervent, he groans, his voice strained with desire. "You feel so good," he pants, his breath hot against your skin. "You take me so well."

You respond with a needy whimper, your fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you. "Harder," you plead, your voice barely more than a breathy whisper. "Please, Azriel, fuck me harder." He grunts in response, his movements becoming more forceful as he drives into you with unrestrained passion. "Like this?" he growls, his voice rough with need as he increases the tempo of his thrusts.

You can only moan in response, the pleasure overwhelming as he takes you to new heights of ecstasy. "Yes," you gasp, your voice trembling with desire. "Just like that." With each powerful thrust, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion, the pleasure building to a crescendo that threatens to consume you. "I'm close," you whimper, your voice filled with urgency. "So close, Azriel."

He grunts in response, his own release drawing near. "Come for me," he urges, his voice low and husky as he drives into you with unbridled passion. "Let go, my love. Let me feel you." With a cry of ecstasy, you shatter beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. "Azriel!" you gasp, your voice echoing in the room as you succumb to the overwhelming sensation.

"I'm not done with you," he coos, withdrawing from you with a determined gleam in his eyes. In one fluid motion, he shifts positions, effortlessly lifting you into his arms as if you weigh nothing. "I need to look at you while I make you come again." Your breath catches in your throat as Azriel's commanding voice fills the room, sending shivers down your spine. You cling to him as he effortlessly lifts you, feeling weightless in his embrace, your legs draped over his shoulders.

The sensation of being held by him, of being completely at his mercy, ignites a fire within you as he plunges into you with a primal hunger. With each powerful thrust, you cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his skin as you surrender yourself to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.

You gasp, your voice echoing in the room as he drives into you with unrelenting force. "Please, Azriel, don't stop." He grunts in response, his movements growing more frenzied as he takes you to the brink of ecstasy once more. "I won't," he growls, his voice thick with lust as he pistons into you with intensity. In the heat of the moment, Azriel's movements become more frenzied, his muscles straining as he drives into you with an unyielding passion. Your body quivers with each powerful thrust, the intensity of his gaze locking you in a mesmerizing trance.

The room swirls with shadows, dancing in a frenetic display of their master's passion. Beads of sweat form on Azriel's forehead, his brows furrowed in concentration as he maintains eye contact with you, his hazel eyes ablaze with desire.

Curses escape his lips as he nears the edge, his rhythm relentless as he repeatedly strikes that sweet spot deep within you. Your head falls back in ecstasy, your entire being consumed by the raw intensity of his thrusts, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin adding to the symphony of pleasure.

With a primal scream, you climax again, your essence gushing around him as you convulse in ecstasy. Wetness cascades down his legs as you drown him in the waves of your release. When you lock eyes with him again, you see the turmoil reflected in his gaze, the desire for release warring with the need to control.

As he begins to slow, ready to withdraw, you refuse to let him pull away. Your voice cuts through the haze of passion, commanding and insistent. "No," you declare, your tone leaving no room for argument. "I want you to fill me. I want every last drop of you."

A mix of desire and determination flashes in Azriel's eyes as he succumbs to your command. With a growl, he thrusts into you one final time, burying himself deep within your core as he spills his essence into you with abandon.

Azriel's breath is ragged against your skin, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his release as he continues to grind into you, riding out the waves of his orgasm. You both pant heavily, lost in the intoxicating embrace of each other's warmth.

In the quiet of the room, the steady ticking of time seems to slow, the rhythm of your hearts gradually synchronizing as you revel in the aftermath of your passionate union. With each passing moment, the remnants of the drug that once clouded your senses dissipate, leaving you both in a state of serene clarity. Suddenly, Rhys's urgent voice breaks through the tranquility, invading Azriel's mind with a sense of urgency. Azriel's grip tightens around your hip instinctively, his focus momentarily pulled away from the blissful moment you share. "Brother, where are you? Is everything fine?" Rhys's concern reverberates in his mental voice, a stark reminder of the dangers that still loom beyond the sanctuary of your embrace.

Azriel's response is curt, his mental voice tinged with irritation as he struggles to maintain his composure amidst the lingering ecstasy. "Yes," he confirms, the word clipped with impatience as he tries to convey his need for privacy.

Relief floods Rhys's voice at the reassurance, but Azriel can sense his brother's lingering worry. "Gods, what happened, I wasn't able to reach you," Rhys presses, his concern palpable even through their mental connection. Azriel's annoyance bubbles to the surface, his desire to savor the aftermath of your passion momentarily overshadowed by the intrusion of reality. With a low growl, he sends a brusque reply, his focus returning to the warmth of your body pressed against his. "I'm kind of busy right now, Rhys," he grumbles, his tone a mixture of irritation and longing as he tunes out the outside world, fully immersed in the intoxicating sensation of being buried deep inside you.

A brief pause follows Azriel's curt response, the tension in the mental connection palpable as Rhys gathers his thoughts. Then, with a hint of playful sarcasm, Rhys's voice echoes in Azriel's mind. "Ah, I see. Busy indeed," Rhys remarks, his tone laden with amusement and a touch of mischief, his words carrying a knowing undertone that hints at his awareness of Azriel's current state of affairs.

Azriel's jaw clenches slightly at the teasing remark, his irritation flickering momentarily before being replaced by a begrudging amusement. He shoots back a mental retort, his tone dry and laced with exasperation. "Do you mind? I'm in the middle of something here," he replies, a hint of playfulness seeping into his mental voice despite his attempt to maintain an air of annoyance.

Rhys's laughter rings in Azriel's mind, a warm and familiar sound that serves as a reminder of the unbreakable bond between them. "Carry on, brother,”

With a soft sigh, Azriel shifts his head, planting tender kisses along the curve of your neck, the warmth of his lips sending shivers down your spine. He hums softly against your skin, his movements deliberate and gentle as he relishes the intimacy of the moment. Pulling back slightly, he meets your gaze, a knowing look reflected in your eyes.

"Rhys?" you inquire, a hint of curiosity lacing your voice. Azriel's expression darkens slightly at the mention of his brother's name, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "Yes, but I'd rather not have my brother's name on your lips while my cock is still buried deep inside your cunt," he replies, his voice low and husky, his gaze intense as he holds your gaze.

You chuckle softly at his response, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you playfully tease him. "Fair enough," you concede, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. Azriel's frown deepens momentarily before giving way to a smirk of his own.

He kisses you once more, his lips lingering against yours before he slides out of you, gently setting you back down on your feet. As you stand there together, still caught in the aftermath, you decide to address the elephant in the room. "This doesn't have to be a one-time thing, you know," you say, your voice soft but resolute, seeking clarity in the midst of the intimacy you've shared. Azriel meets your gaze, his expression serious yet filled with a hint of vulnerability.

"I don't want it to be," he responds, his voice a low murmur, his eyes locking with yours as he lays bare his desires and intentions. "Good," you state, a sense of satisfaction in your voice.

"Good," he echoes, a soft smile playing on his lips as he gazes at you.

You move on shaky legs, his hand enveloping yours as you make your way to the bathroom together. "Now, I really want to clean up," you state, casting a playful glance over your shoulder at him. "But there's room for two sets of wings in the tub."

His body responds immediately, his eyes darkening once again as he takes in the sway of your hips while you lead the way to the bathroom, a lingering gaze on your bare ass.

"We're not returning for another day. Something came up," he sends out to Rhys, already on your heels as you chase each other into the bath.

"Sure you do, brother," Rhys's voice comes through, laced with amusement. "Just don't forget she still has to fly back home."

The flight back home indeed turned out to be quite difficult.

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

Hark! I submit an official request for Raphael and someone (dealer’s choice) getting hit with the old Sex Pollen. It could be a trick by Haarlep or a plant/mushroom releasing pollen/spores in Faerûn during one of his visits. I leave circumstances to your brilliant imagination.

I love the sex pollen trope and would love to see you write it :) As always, feel free to make him or both of them as tame or unhinged as you like! Thank you! 💕

❤️

Raph gets pollened ☺️

Read on AO3

-

There was a lot of strange stuff to find laying about in the ruins of Moonrise Towers. Most of it caked in dirt, dust, and other unidentifiable substances. The kleptomaniac in Tav had her poking around, putting her mitts on everything before those little tiefling gobshites stripped the place bare.

She was enamoured by something: a big round vial that contained some viscous liquid which, when Tav cleaned the bottle a little, glowed an ominous dark purple. The stopper was wedged too tight to open. It had been fermenting for a long, long time. Tav had discovered the bottle in a box with a decrepit occult codex of some kind and a burned out incense holder. Bizarre findings that warranted further investigation – after she’d raided everything else of value, of course.

“Well, well. Where should I find the mouse but scurrying about in a ruined old attic? Apt.”

“Shit!”

Tav nearly leapt out of her skin. The bottle went flying, shattering on the ground. A thin, noxious violet gas began to seep from its shattered corpse. The smell was pungent, stomach-churning; like rotten eggs and swamp water. Tav coughed and gagged, eyes wet, glaring at the devil who’d startled her so badly. He stood there innocently, unassuming, a single eyebrow raised at her display of drama. So much for finding out what that potion did.

“Do you enjoy getting the jump on people, devil?” She said waspishly, moving further away from the mess. “Gods, that stinks.”

“Sometimes. Mortals are much more likely to agree to certain things when they’re frightened,” Raphael purred. He tilted his head, taking a small whiff of the gas. “Hmm…it smells like peaches to me.”

Peaches, sure. “What do you want?” Tav crossed her arms. Never turn your back on a devil. Especially this one.

“Merely to see why my favourite future client isn’t celebrating with the rest of her merry band,” said Raphael. Tav noticed he was surreptitiously inhaling deeper sniffs of the potion, like a dog that had caught an interesting scent on the wind. He may not have realised he was doing it. “After all, you freed the angel. You struck down the avatar of a God. One would think a hero of such calibre would at least raise a glass or two in victory, no?”

“I don’t like crowds,” muttered Tav, keenly aware he was mocking her. He was always mocking her. Raphael shifted his feet, coming just a bit closer.

“Yes, I know,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “I know a lot about you, Tav. I know the kinds of people you used to do business with before the mindflayers took you. I know the kind of work you did. I know where you came from, and where you were going before all of this.”

“What?” Tav stared at him, aghast. A mix of horror and, inexplicably, intrigue squirmed in her belly. How did he know these things? Why did he know these things? Something was off, though. Raphael seemed, for a brief moment, as shocked by his words as she.

“All that is to say…” He adjusted his collar. Loosened it. “Hells. Why is it so damn warm all of a sudden?”

In a crumbling tower, battered by the chilling miasma of the shadow curse, the only warmth came from the Infernal himself. “It’s cold up here,” Tav said slowly. A bead of sweat rolled down Raphael’s temple in contrast. “Are…you okay?”

“What a stupid question,” the devil snapped. He was becoming flustered, a fetching flush spreading across his harsh cheeks and the bridge of his handsome nose. “I must return to the Hells. Goodbye.”

He clicked his fingers, intending to disappear in a burst of hellfire as usual, but nothing happened. A mere sputtering of sparks from his fingertips fluttered and died. Outraged, Raphael clicked them again, harder, as Tav watched with mounting anxiety. No portal opened. The devil went nowhere.

“Foolish little bint,” he snarled at her. Revealed his pointed canines when he sneered. Tav saw his pupils were rapidly expanding, consuming the sweet brown of his human irises. “What was in that bottle you dropped?”

“I don’t know,” Tav bit back. Always aggressive when she felt cornered. “And you’re the reason I dropped it in the first place. Maybe this will teach you to stop needlessly scaring people, though I bloody doubt it.”

“If you don’t watch your tongue when you speak to me, I’ll pluck it out of your filthy mouth,” Raphael threatened, low and throatily. He tugged his collar open completely, revealing his neck and some teasing wisps of chest hair.

“Oh I see, the devil’s feeling a bit poorly so he finally shows his true colours,” crooned Tav. “It’s about time. I was getting tired of your gentleman act, you know.”

“Ah…to have your skin hanging on a hook in my foyer would be such a delight…” Rumbled the devil, almost absently. He began to unfasten the buttons of his jacket.

“What are you doing?!” Barked Tav. He didn’t answer. Tossed his coat aside and moved onto the buttons of his fancy white shirt. It was damp with sweat – and this was when Tav noticed the bulge between Raphael’s legs. His cock, hard and proud, strained in the fabric of his trousers. A hot spike of desire shot through Tav’s body. “Oh, shit…”

The potion must have been some kind of demented aphrodisiac, made potent enough over time that just a few inhales was all it took. It must’ve been pretty strong indeed if Raphael was crumbling under its influence so fast. Except it wasn’t affecting Tav. She could admit – only to herself – that her tingles of arousal looking at Raphael’s big, deft, tawny hands work the small buttons of his clothes, at the glistening, hairy skin of his chest as he opened his shirt, at his puffy dark nipples, at the trail of fuzz going down his soft middle to vanish below his belt, at the outline of his erection, at the wet spot its leaking head made on his trousers…they were on Tav alone. She’d been attracted to the smarmy devil from the start.

Figuring all this out, Tav had one thing to consider as Raphael reached for his belt: what did she do?

Indulge, of course. An opportunity like this only appeared once in a lifetime. A street cat like Tav knew it better than most.

So she bit her lip, breath baited, as Raphael freed his cock and balls, both fat with need. Ogled as he furiously, shamelessly, rubbed his prick, squeezed its swollen sticky dark pink head, his tight scrotum bouncing with the force, staring right at her as he did. Sighed when he came in moments, grunting, cum spilling on the ground, all over his knuckles, everywhere. His expression was stormy, devoid of relief or rapture, his cock refusing to soften.

“It’s not enough,” he hissed even as he milked more cum from himself in oozing pearls that lazily trickled between his glans, teeth bared in frustration. “It’s not enough.”

He looked furious, frantic, frayed, and so, so fuckable.

“Come here, then,” said Tav, distantly aware of how breathy she sounded, “let’s try something else.”

He was on her in a second. A waiting predator pouncing on its prey. Tav could barely gasp before he was swallowing her mouth in harsh, biting kisses, one hand fisting the hair at the back of her head, the other holding her hip with bruising strength. Tav greedily put her hands all over him, yanking his silky too-perfect hair, scratching his slick chest and stomach, crushing handfuls of his pliant backside. He was like a furnace, radiating stifling heat. He smelled like cherries and musky sweat. So human, but for the hint of sulphur he simply couldn’t hide. His tongue tasted like wine and fire when he forced it into her mouth, hungrily licking behind her teeth. He was a man unravelling, so much desire pressed beneath the surface just waiting for an excuse like this to burst free, and Tav wanted to see it all.

“Wretch,” Raphael spat when they broke apart. The ribbons of saliva connecting their lips were tinged red. He’d bitten her bloody. “Invading my thoughts…my dreams…and now my body…”

“Your fault,” Tav retorted, crying out when he jerked her head back, rolling his aching prick against her clothed sex.

“Inside,” he growled, losing coherence, “need to be inside…”

He manhandled her, pushing her onto a nearby broken desk. With one hand, and in one yank, he pulled her trousers and smallclothes down to her ankles. Tav heard fabric rip but couldn’t find the will to care. The eerie, twisted moonlight coming in from jagged cracks in the stone, the cursed lands’ grotesque long shadows – these things stretched and warped Raphael’s silhouette into the monster he truly was. Tav swore she felt claws, fangs, horns, saw the glint of yellow eyes…but he was still a man, driven and desperate, who pried her thighs open and stuffed her full of his cock, who rocked up on the balls of his feet to get as deep inside her cunt as possible.

“Fuck,” she groaned, raking her fingernails down his back. She was wet and willing, but it had been a while, he’d entered her without preamble, and his cock was thick. He was unforgiving, selfish, searching only for his own pleasure. The stretch, the burn, as he used her, fucking her hard, fast, violent, was hideous and exquisite. She clenched her cunt around his cock and he came immediately, snorting into her ear like a rutting bull. Filled her womb with hot liquid release. She could feel it spurting out of his cock with every throb. He had so much to give, and still he didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Much to Tav’s delight.

There would be Hell to pay when this was over.

[sorchathered]

Jake and Bradley are talking very animatedly at the table as Phoenix crosses the mess hall, ushering her to move quickly so she can join in.

“Shhhh!!!! You’re too damn loud Rooster, someone is going to hear!”

“Oh shut up, we don’t have much time until he gets over here. Nat!! We need your opinion.”

“Oh God, what? I just wanted to eat my lunch in peace.”

Bradley peers behind her and then ducks his head to whisper at her.

“We think Bob has a girlfriend.”

She rolls her eyes at them and Bradley flails his arms towards Jake-

“Seriously! Hangman tell her!”

“Ok so he hasn’t come out with us in almost 3 weeks and then today-“

Bradley cuts him off because he thinks he can see the WSO entering the mess hall.

“Today he stepped out of the showers and is COVERED in scratch marks and bruises. So unless he suddenly joined fight club he’s definitely seeing someone.”

They all snap their mouths shut as Bob sits down at the table with his lunch, looking them over like they’ve all grown three heads, Natasha attempting to stifle giggles as she tries to eat her salad.

“Hey…guys…What’s going on?”

He looks bewildered and the boys are looking anywhere but at him, Nat clears her throat but still can’t seem to stop her giggles.

“Bob, why don’t you tell us what you’ve been up to the past few weeks, apparently the boys are sad that you don’t come out with us anymore.”

Jake is trying to signal for her to shut up, Bradley meanwhile looks like a deer in headlights.

“Is that why yall are being so weird? Seriously? I went out of town last weekend to pack up my storage unit in Lemoore and this weekend I’ve been moving in to my house with my wife. Yall are welcome to come by when we get it all settled, I’m sure she’ll want to host some sort of get together, she lives for that stuff.”

Jake drops his fork, blinking several times to process and Bradley is catching flies with his unhinged jaw, neither of them seem to be able to process what he just said meanwhile Natasha is cackling.

“What’s their deal?” Bob says to Nat and she just claps him on the shoulder.

“Oh Bob, those poor boys thought you were sweet and innocent, just wait until they find out about the kids.”

“YOU HAVE KIDS?!”

[cyberchronics]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

so unhinged about him ♥︎

satoru gojo + missing you

★ no real power dynamic, pathetic needy gojo, masturbation, teasing, phone sex ★

✩∘₊ ✩*✯☆⃟⃟⃟✯*✩₊∘✩

satoru knows you can't go on every mission with him. in fact, he wants you to stay safe and sound at home while he makes your problems go away

so why does he miss you so damn much?

he's lying in a cold hotel bed missing your warmth, scrolling through his phone to try and distract himself– before one of your various posts shows up on his feed. everything has to remind him of you, even god damn social media. what a life to live.

satoru is stressed, even more than usual, so he takes a deep breath and falls back on ol' reliable. peeling back blankets and slipping his sweatpants down is the easy part. he barely needs any masturbation material as thoughts of you swim through his mind, but he unlocks his hidden folder anyway and picks a random recording of the two of you.

he's glad you let him have this dirty habit for times like this. he wishes you were here.... he craves your touch, but his hand will have to suffice for tonight. a voice in his head knows he'll never be able to satisfy himself as well as you do.

...satoru misses you :(

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

Satoru is halfway through his ridiculously long home video, listening to your sweet mewls as you take his cock, but he's nowhere near close. It's frustrating, seeing himself orgasm for the second time in twenty minutes as he gives you another sloppy kiss. He's been jealous plenty of times, but never of himself. You bring out a weird side of him.

His pace falters as he closes out of the folder, considering just rolling over and admitting defeat. It's what he deserves for setting himself up like this: going to bed desperate and hard. Maybe he'll get better results if he tries again in the morning. Just as he's about to throw his phone on the charger and call it a night, your contact pops up the distinct ringtone filling the room. Perfect timing.

The video call flickers on instantly as he answers, his feed turned off for the time being. You're laid in bed all pretty, blankets down just enough to reveal your choice in pajamas. You're lying on his side of the bed and wearing his shirt. Are you trying to kill him? "Hey, baby. Was 'bout to go to bed, but I wanted to talk to you first." You missed him too? A warmth blooms in his chest and he smiles like an idiot. "Can you turn your camera on? I wanna see you."

Your voice is soft and gentle, scratching every inch of his pathetic brain. He bites his lip to stifle a desperate whine, thinking of a decent excuse to give you. Satoru never minded begging for attention before, but something in him doesn't want to give you the burden of putting on a show for him. He'd rather just listen to your raspy tone and watch the pretty lips that should be giving him hickeys say sweet words.

"I don't want you to see me like this, babe." His voice comes through the phone between heavy pants, still fisting his cock in a rhythm pace. "Face is all bloody and bandaged up, and– fuck..." Satoru cuts himself off with a curse under his breath, hips bucking up at a particularly good stroke. "Yeah, uh... it's just a mess. Real gorey, y'know?"

That gorgeous laugh floods his ears, sending shivers down his spine instantly. How can someone be so damn perfect? "Satoru... are you jerking off?" Satoru promptly chokes on his drool. Was he being too loud? He knows he's never been subtle, but you can't even see his face! "W-what? Nah, babe. I'm just layin' down. Why would you think somethin' crazy like that?" The words come out clumsy, and he trips over them as they come out. You know him too damn well.

"You're not? That's too bad..." Satoru watches in amazement as you turn the camera around, yanking down the heavy comforter and revealing your busy fingers. They thrust in and out of the lube-slicked entrance, making loud squelching noises now that there was nothing to muffle the sound. He's already drooling and it's been less than a second. Why does he keep underestimating you?

"I was hoping we could cum together." Those familiar whimpers come through the line as you fuck yourself on your fingers, a small thump coming from you throwing your head back against the wooden headboard. "Fuck, baby. Feels so good... 'm g'nna cum." Before he can even rush to catch up with you and turn on his video, you fulfill that promise and make a mess of your high-quality sheets. It's a sight to behold, but Satoru doesn't get to enjoy it long.

The camera pans back to your sweat-covered face as you flash him a tired smile. "Love you, Satoru... come back soon, okay?" You blow him a kiss through the camera, hanging up before any protests can be made. Fucking tease. It's a good thing he always screen records your calls. Satoru's never painted his hand white with his thick cum quicker. You always know just what he needs.

He can't wait until he can return the favor.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: sorry that mahito fic pt 2 is late 😭😭 im struggling so much with writing it idk why. also yuuta!!! wanna start writing something for him immediately :3

[happypotato48]

Wandee Goodday EP 7 Unhinged Tangant Thoughts

Welp, i'm back to simping for Ai Phi Ter. god damn it, my hated for him only last a week i thought it would last longer than that. whatever i have no standards for men and and that hindenburg of a person is too much of a hot disaster for me to look away from.

this is a nice message and all but shouldn't there more set up for this?

well i appreciated that they tried to destigmatize mental health nonetheless. cause this topic is very much overlooked in thailand. like most older generations will outright tells young people to go to temples or get a grip instead of seeking professional helps.

Yak it's only been a few months give Dee more time my dude.

Dude i know you're mad and all but why you did that. go apologize to the poor custodian staff right now!

Eyebrows is right Dee stop making a mess and go smooch that hunk of a man!

Oh hi luke. i've never watch any of the shows he's in, but but but i had watched a behind the screen of a underwear photoshoot he modeled for and it was very very yummy :P

Make out make out make out. WHAT! don't look at me like that i said already i have no standards.

We are what we remember and liking Ai Phi Ter will always be a part of Dee, you just need learn to live with that baby boy.

How about you two dress up as a well adjusted people whose talks to each other for one, hmmm!

i'm still not going to the gym i don't care how many eye candies there is there i still hate exercises that are not walking/running. but also thanks for this shot show.

*Me when i saw this*

What with that face lol. i laughed so hard 🤣

Did you just came here in that outfit? this bitch has no shame.

If this were me he would already got me at free food. what can i say i'm easy like that.

Heaheahea that smile got me. he so slimy and evil. anyway what happened with what her face Ai Phi Ter!

*second murloc noise of the day*

And i both love and hate you for it you big doo doo of a man.

Ok this line literal translation is "why do you like to use violence like that" which i think is a better choice than what got subbed.

Thanks you gay gods and Yak for both giving me this look and for decking Ai Phi Ter in his stupid face.

You dumb bitches you dum-dums ahhhhhh.

Ok sorry, but crying over cringy bunny sextume will never stop be funny for me lol

saving budget bying never leave the room, smart moved but also give me japan god damn it!

God bless this mess of a man.

Oh comeon! don't drag this girl into this mess show just leave her alone with that other cute boy.

*third murloc noise of the day*

Ok you betted on this match for money didn't you.

Fucking finally!

It's not dull alright baby.

That was a hot mess oh my god, Yak feels off in this ep and yes i do think they're trying to go with mental health problems as an explanation but that was too underbaked for me idk. and for Dee i do get it that he still has lingering feeling for dr. devil but why did they made him goes to Ter's room in that outfit and not trying way harder to get out. i feel like they just went with the early draft of that scene with out changing with how much they've changed the characters. anyways i'm manifesting cherry magic th ep 8 energy for this ep and hope it was just a blip in judgement by the director.

[cryptictales]

𝑰𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 ’𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕’ 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒕? (𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

| ・゜゜・．A reader requested part two of my previous writing, which gets heavy but is short-lived. Included a link to part one if you have not read it yet.

| pairings; dean x reader

| warnings; aggression, touch, kissing

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆 : 𝑫𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒕?

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑻𝑾𝑶

“How’s that no beer for a week going for you?”

“How’s the no vaping for a week going?” he asked sarcastically,

She leaned down from behind the couch and hummed in satisfaction with the liquid she had just swigged down, brushing slightly against his ear. “Mighty dandy d-e-a-n-o,” she whispered. Dean raised a brow not peeling those green hues from the laptop screen. “Mhm.” he simply responded.

Rolling her eyes, her attention turned to the screen of his laptop. “What’s that?” raising her finger to point at the screen.

“Nothing of your concern.” He spoke in a brief tone of voice.

“Oh, come on, if you’re planning to go on a hunt, I want in.”

Closing the laptop, he turned his head slightly to now face her which was still close approximately to one another. His eyes scanned over her hues then her lips as he whispered. “Why are you bothering me?”

“I’m not, I just—I figured you’d like some company.” She focused in on those green hues, and couldn’t help but look over his own lips that were only a few inches away from her own.

“Well, you thought wrong sweetheart.” He would brush off, sitting up as he placed the laptop on the coffee table in front of him before standing to his feet. She would stand straight back up, folding her arms over her chest.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what? I didn’t say anything.”

“No, don’t go pouting now. You know what you’re doing, I’m not Sam.”

Rolling her eyes again, okay maybe she was slightly pouting. She was BORED. “Come on Dean, it's one hunt.”

Dean wouldn’t respond as he brushed her off again, heading down the hall. But she was persistent in following behind him until they were now both standing in his room. She leaned against the entrance of the door.

“Answer is still no (Y/N)...”

She didn’t budge. “But you haven’t given me a good reason why. Dean. God damn it, tell me.” she finally walked fully inside of his room. Moving to place a hand on his arm but was taken by surprise when he spun around gripping her wrist tightly into his hand. She took a harsh gulp; she could see the seriousness behind his eyes.

“I said NO damn it!” he said in a much more aggressive tone of voice. She yanked her arm away from his grasp. She didn’t say anything at first but again she was persistent. “Then TELL ME WHY NOT!?”

“BECAUSE it’s not a life you want to be a part of, OKAY? Do you think I like hunting monsters? Risking my life? My brother’s life? It’s not a damn game.” He was now turned to fully face her, his eyes not leaving her own. The distance between them was closing, both furious, unhinged maybe.

He would grab her by the throat pulling her against his body, his lips smashing against her own roughly. The taste of her tongue mingled with his own. Dean moved to shove her roughly against the wall, his hands moving down her body and back up, his lips venturing down from her lips to her neck. Marking her up her breathing was intense for a moment. Those large hands of his made their way to tangle into her hair.

“Dean? (Y/N)?”Sam’s voice called out to them.

(Y/N) would press her hand against his chest. Dean stopped his lips from capturing another taste of her. He pushed off the wall, as he returned to throwing the rest of his things into his duffle bag.

Clearing her throat, she ran a hand through the now tangled mess of her hair. “Y-yeah in here Sam.” she took one last glimpse of Dean, unable to recall what had just taken place.

Sam walking towards the doorway of his brother’s room, (Y/N) stepped outside before he could get to it. “Oh uh, I uh was just—”

“It’s fine Sam, I was just leaving.” she interrupted him before he could finish the rest of that awkward sentence. Moving to walk past him, she couldn’t resist but brush a few fingers across her lips.

Sam watched her walk past him as he turned to raise a brow towards Dean. Dean zipped up the duffle as he turned around to his brother in a confused yet ‘Do I want to know what just happened’ kind of expression.

“Did I just interrupt umm something?”

“let’s just get going.” Dean quickly replied, tossing the duffle bag over his shoulder.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑠; @lucishellhound @isabellacugliari-blog ☽︎ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

[hana-no-seiiki]

Saw that post you made a little bit ago and was hit with an idea (ow)

A yandere that tries so damn hard to hold themselves back from crossing boundaries because while their love is, in fact, incredibly twisted and probably unhinged, they do love their darling. Hearing that Darling never had anyone respect them the way they deserved really grinded their gears. So the Yandere asks for permission before giving hugs, kisses, ect.

Is it out of genuine respect? Is a ploy/plot to gain Darling's affection a bit faster? Up to you, I'm very tired. I'll also let you decide how successful the Yandere is at Not Crossing Boundaries

My yans in general are yans because they have no sense of boundaries, do not care about these boundaries, or expect you to have no boundaries because they have none themselves.

I think the only yans in my roster that will definitely respect that in a direct sort of manner are the Midnight Darling (Yan! College) ones. Purely because the reader there is at the top of the foodchain and they have a system for organization’s sake. Most of them would still stalk you, or ‘feel’ you indirectly by taking your stuff. But if you ever voiced it out, they’ll make sure that no one messes with the lines you’ve set.

That being said, they do expect a reward and will very much coax it out of you if not outright force it if enough time has passed by that they get impatient.

Try not to implicate who didn’t respect your boundaries, unless you want them dead or humiliated to death. Though I do see them hunting your family members down since that’s where stuff like that usually happens eitherway (totally not speaking from personal experience h a h a)

Particularly speaking, Justin (Yan! Jock) is actually the best at keeping his hands to himself. He’s great at adjusting. You just have to not tick him off or intentionally provoke him and he’d basically do whatever you wish. He cares more for how he can serve you rather than how you can reciprocate his feelings.

Amir is also very good at respecting your boundaries. Physically speaking at the very least. He is incredibly bad at verbal boundaries and can easily say something real bad at the worst times, but he does apologize and feels awful afterwards. He does awkwardly hover over you sometimes and is too shy to ask for permission, so you have to read him yourself to know when to ply him with kisses.

The worst for respecting your boundaries would be Yichen (Yan! Himbo)

What are boundaries? You’ve been bros for forever! Friends don’t have boundaries! You guys should always be open to each other! And y’know what he’s been feeling rather pent up lately. Won’t you be a dear and jerk him off as you sit prettily on his lap?

God while his is more innocent in nature, there’s also someone I haven’t written specifically here yet but have been brainrotting in dms w/ @not-a-bot-just-shy . Caterpillar (Yan! Ex Goon/Now-A-Villain) who just doesn’t care entirely. You’re hers whether you like it or not. Who are you to set boundaries when she owns you? Possessions don’t have rights much less should have the ability to say no.

She’s very similar to The Scientist (it’s in the name) who doesn’t even see you as human. Reader in that story is a monster so it makes sense but 🤷‍♂️ i dunno sounds kinda fucked up-

but yeah, a lot of my ocs are crap at it ngl. They’re needy sluts.

[fillinforlater]

Monday of Appreciation: Part 98

Hello everyone, Smite here!

Another step closer to one of the most satisfying number... and it's a number I did not really think I would reach. But it is real, every damn Monday, a pist like this has appeared on my blog for 22+ months - and my goal is still the same:

Giving love to other writers with awesome stories, new ideas and gorgeous, insanely hot idols. So click on the damn links and get ready to enjoy these four smuts:

-1-

@minarisplaything: What You're Missing Part 1 ft. Kazuha, Yunjin

So I liked this, simple concept, but also very hot idols who kinda fit the characters (Kazuha seems to fit everything though lol). I just eant you to use this one button, then add a couple of commas and I'm fully hooked. I know this fic is a bit older, but please use capital letters lmao

-2-

@jisoosimpxd: Your Turn ft. Yunjin, Chaewon

This is just straight up squeezing all of my horniness out, ugh, watching this would be a such an overwhelming experience - good thing that I can imagine myself pounding Yunjin and making Chaewon a desperate longing mess (mess mess mess mess mess mess).

-3-

@closedafterdark: My Girlfriend's Best Friend ft. Nancy, Ahin

Oh look, another fic about cheating. Something about this immoral practice paired with smut just works. You already have this stupidly hot and needy idol, why go cheat? Why ruin your life? Because she is seductive, tempting you to commit this sin, and we (men) are weak. In the case of Ahin... yep, I would probably fall too.

-4-

@smuttysabina: GahDongs Dirty Duo Fuck ft. futa!Gahyeon, futa!Handong

WHOEVER COMMISSIONED THIS, DESERVES A MEDAL. Holy shit, this was... short but impactful. I'm losing it, I need this, woaaaahhhh!

Please, never stop @smuttysabina releasing such crazy, unhinged, kinky-af pieces of horny art lmao luv u

(God, Miyeon makes me so horny lately) I mean, have a great week everyone! <3

[igotanidea]

Drunk: multifandom imagine

chug! chug! chug! chug!

Screaming and chanting of the crowd around only encouraged her in all her action. Without any hesitation, but a bit unsteadily she climbed the table and grabbed the bottle of wine someone handed to her. It only took a few minutes to empty it completely and with a wicked grin she threw the empty glass on the floor, causing it to shatter.

“YEAH!” she yelled, almost falling from the edge, being saved only by the people below, who were quick enough to catch her and put her back on the ground. “LET’S PARTY PEOPLE!”

Y/N Y/L/N was freaking tired of being a good girl.

Perfect daughter, never stepping out of line and listening to her parents.

A-grade student, spending her youth with nose in the books, studying to get to good school, make a career and get somewhere in life.

Following rules and being nice to everyone in hope one day, someday, someone would notice more of her than a good student and coworker.

Well, even if someone did, no one ever expressed that on the outside.

As a result, poor girl fall into the spiral of workaholism, just to keep her crazy thoughts at bay and get any sense of validation. Even if it was external and superficial.

But deflecting could only work for so long.

After a while she started feeling frustrated, angered, sad, sick of it all.

The sudden urge to wreak havoc, make a mess, get unhinged started to creep in.

And she followed.

Getting into the first club on her way, started drinking and turning her thinking off.

It was going like that for three hours now and all the lights, alcohol and deafening music started to feel oddly familiar. She could not feel her body, just letting it move and flow completely freely. Laughing, jumping, spinning and twirling, having absolute time of her life.

Until a strong pair of arms wrapped around her waist from behind, dragging her out f the dancefloor. At first, her hazy mind thought that it was some handsome man who wanted to get a bit more aquainted, but the reality was just a bit different.

“What do you think you are doing?” a deep male voice, full of reproach sounded from above.

“Hi there!” she giggled seeing the most familiar face and going for a hug.

“Answer the question, Y/n”

“I’m having so…. much ….. fun” she panted, burping due to all the alcohol in her system

“You are acting like crazy.” He pointed out grabbing her arm a bit stronger than intended “I’m taking you out of here. “

“The hell you are!” she scoffed breaking away, turning on her heel and disappearing in the crowd.

“Y/N!” he yelled taking off after her.

“Come and get me if you want!” once again she started moving towards the music and as much as he hated it, the sensuality of her moves made him stop in his tracks and just gaze at her. “don’t just stand there pretty boy, come and join me here….”

He was hypnotized.  There was absolutely no way he could say no to her like this. The club lights on her body, sultry music…… it was all too much. He had to get out.

“Come on, handsome, dance with me….” She locked her hands on his neck, getting impossibly closer. “Please……”

“You’re drunk.” He opposed but it was so damn hard

“so what? Easy target. Am I not good enough for you?” she whined pressing their bodies together.

“Out. Now. ” he gripped her wrist so hard it made her wince and pushed her out the club into the cold air.

“It hurts!” she cried “Oh, shit! I think I’m gonna be sick…..” she bend down and started throwing up to the nearest gutter. Thank god, he had instincts fast enough to hold her hair back so she would not make a mess of herself “ I’m…. I’m not feeling good……”

“You don’t say….” He mocked, worry and care in his eyes as he handed her a tissue and cupped her cheek.

“Take me home….? Please….?”

“Oh now you want to go home?” single laugh fell from his lips, but seeing her like this, broken, exhausted, wasted, fragile and in need of his protection made him break in an instant. “Sure, sweetheart. Let’s get you home.”

*** “What has gotten into you?” he asked after helping her clean herself up, get dressed and tucked her safely into the bed, putting warm blanket over her shoulder, alongside with a glass of water and pill on the nightstand. “this was not you”

“Exactly….”

“I don’t understand.”

“I…. I was tired of being myself, you know. The good, silent, obedient girl. Invisible girl. For once in my life I wanted to be seen.”

“You wanted to be seen wasted and puked?”

“I wanted to be seen as a girl! As a woman. So I dressed up and went for a party.”

“Look how that worked out for you….”

“I want to be loved, you know?” she started mumbling, at the verge of sleep, still hazy, the most honest words just flowing out of her mouth “I want to be cared for and adored. I want someone to look at me and think wow, she’s so beautiful. I want to fall in love and have someone to hold and care and cherish and just be with…..” he voice broke a little “I want to know what it feels like to be happy with someone. How to be heartbroken. How to mend bridges and how to grow to be a better person….”

“Oh, honey…” he leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“I never had that….” Tears started falling down her cheek “and the worst thing about that is that I’m most probably in love with you. But your my friends and could never see me the way I see you, so…..”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok.” He reassured, pulling her into a hug “you’re babbling now. You need rest.”

“You see?” she pulled back. “this is what I’m talking about “I just confessed to being in love with you and you shrugged it off.”

“Get some sleep, all right?” he smiled and pushed her into the soft cushions, adjusting the blanket “I’ll be here when you wake up and then we’ll talk about it.”

“Promise?” she muttered closing her eyes

“I promise” he held her pinky, brushing a strand of hair from her face, turning the light off and starting to walk away.

“thank you…..” she muttered turning onto the side “I really do love you…..”

Closing the door to her room was the most relieving part of this night. He leaned onto them and slowly slid to the floor, sighing deeply, blush on his face, warmth in his rapidly pounding heart. His head and rationality was screaming at him not to be stupid, that whatever she said was caused by the alcohol and she did not mean any word. His heart however was aching, hoping, wishing and dreaming. I love you. I love you. I love you. Three words and eight letters with such an overwhelming power.

Oh, he was going to get this confession of her once she got sober.

[autisticbokutoenthusiast]

pit babe ep 13 stray thoughts

(everytime i think ive posted this i look in my drafts and its still here..... maybe i was too unhinged and tumlr is trying to spare yall)

-northsonic influencer era finally paying off. its time for these volggers to bring justice!!!!

-sonic's insta story:

- DID HE KILL A FUCKING KID WHAT THE FUCK

- jeff get his ass THIS ENDS NOW!!! TONY YOU WILL CRUMBLE

- alan hiding jeff behind him is so funny like jeff is the one with alpha healing but ok

- winner is still taking me out like how did he end up high ranking in this mess

- jrgkhksghjshggjka sonic being like stop tapping me with your gun im concentrating 🥺

- is winner just a northsonic anti or is he the only character unaware hes in a bl

- its the way north always puts himself in front of sonic but sonic holds him up from behind :/

-winner, my baby, put the gun down. look at me, look at me!! this isnt you. stop this!

-winners pathetic ass i told you he wouldn't last in organized crime. oh they kicking the SHIT out of him. oh poor guy

-the fight scenes this ep >>>>

-pete i get but why do babe an way know how to shoot guns nvm babe keeps missing

-WAY NOOOOOOOO NOOOOOO NOOOOO WAY GET UP GET THE FUCK UP STOP MESSING AROUND WAY GET UPP

-babe and tony having a slayful baby hairs off

-STAWP WITH THE FAWKING FLASHBACKS ENOUGH! oh babe

-KENTAAAAA AND HIS KNIFE LETS GOOOOO

-all of tonys kids watching him die..... all having a different reaction....

-x hunter wathcing way die....

-WAYYY STOP THIS GET UPPP STAND THE FUCK UP WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME WAY STOP IT YOURE GOING TO THE END WITH HIM WAY STOP

enough...

-pete crying in the back... im going to launch myself into the mid atlantic

-WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY ABOUT THESE DAMN FLASHBACK SEQUENCES ENOUGH

-god pete was gone fromt the first meeting....

-northsonic lost their big brother ive had it lets wrap this up i cant take it

-god babe is next no im looking away i will not see

-charlie just wants babe to be happy...

- oh he just wanted babe to be taken care of…. oh he keeps a scrapbook…

- kim’s autistic swag is radiating so hard

- babe having to do the focus….

- this man is pregnant good for him. good for papa and mama

- can charlie absorb enigma powers asking for a friend and his pregnancy test

- did they kill winner where is he

- awwwwww. i wish i was that good at setting up picnics

- ITS OVER NOOOOOOOOOOOO

this was a fun show to watch and also the first piece of omegaverse media i ever finished.... so a good introduction agjkjgalkjg

[verytallfox]

The Sounds of Nightmares Episode 5: A Deluge of the Inevitable Thoughts

Right off the bat, we learn the Ferryman is likely the archetypal “guardian at the threshold.” Additionally, Noone has an OCULAR TUMOR in her brain?! She has a fucking eye-thing in there and it is what’s pulling her into the Nowhere.

Next, Noone gives Otto the chewing out of his life. He doesn’t want to listen to her about her parents, and she calls him out on his bullshit. She agrees to tell him about her latest dream so long as there are no machines this time. He agrees.

There’s a role reversal now: Otto will be lying down with a blindfold on while Noone tells him her latest trip to the Nowhere. Otto hopes that Noone can somehow transmit her dream into his head.

Noone is in a sewer setting. There��s lots of children and there’s waste and there’s messed up pipes. Also, unfortunately for Otto his plan is working.

Also, THERE IS A NOME!!! The same noise, the same description, and the same mannerisms! Noone calls it a “little mushroom fairy.” Noone also hits a nasty child with a brick who presumably seeks to hurt the Nome. The Nome guides her to a room full of scavenged junk and treasures, all compiled into piles, dropped down from the world above for years.

There’s also an abandoned child’s “propeller cap” that Noone suspects the Nome’s trying to show her.

There’s also a man, who empties his pockets with his goodies. He was seen before with a beeping device. He’s horribly distorted, his head a mess like most others in the Nowhere. Said head is swollen with the back sagging behind his head, mistaken for a sack for Noone. And she knows he used to be human. He became one with the sewers.

(Cutting out excessive summarization of the episode, there’s a chase, a tidal wave, and cruel singing)

Finally, the Ferryman appears and speaks in riddles that Noone has determined the meaning of: if she gives in to his world the suffering she feels in her own will stop. She suggests that CiCi (?) abandoned Otto because she had enough of his shit. He stumbles out of the room in shock.

Otto’s demeanor changes from this and he’s colder to her from here on out. She also discovers the tumor’s existence. He’s unprofessional and no matter what she said she’s a child and he’s an adult so fuck him, grrr!

Later that night, Otto decided to use a device on Noone to locate the tumor, believing it to be the gateway to the Nowhere. Noone is coming in and out of sleep and Otto is unhinged. He has some sort of brain imaging device and he finds her tumor. Upon viewing it, it LOOKS AT HIM, and its stare is seemingly painful. As it watches him, the machine breaks.

Something has happened to Noone…

And we’ve been cliffhangered. In the words of the great Rouxls Kaard:

GOD. DAMN IT.

Some analysis:

I fucking loved this episode. Of the few legitimate theories I have (this episode mainly backs up the ones I already there), Eyes in your brain lead to the Nowhere, the Ferryman is its guardian, and it can bleed into our world too are all that’s new. Pretty simple!

Also, I believe the “bag-headed man” was once a normal child or normal man, and he’s meant to embody some sort of desire or hunger along with the nasty children. Noone’s explanation of him and the children each wanting what the other has also is meant to parallel to some degree her and Otto.

Additionally, the propeller cap is either the man’s or the Nome’s. As for the children, I don’t think those children were always children (assuming they even are children now) or perhaps they originated in the Nowhere. There’s something wrong with those guys.

I think the man might be in Little Nightmares 3. There was a suspiciously sewer-themed area in the trailer so fingers crossed!

Also, I believe CiCi is Otto’s sister. There’s mention briefly of Otto being just a boy and also looking “nothing like” his sister.

Lastly, something bad has happened to Noone y’all. I don’t know what, but I think the answers fall under two categories: physical harm or vanishing. We’ve got one more episode left and I can’t wait for it.

EDIT

Holy shit I can’t believe I didn’t consider that they both might be in the Nowhere now. I honestly love that idea, along with the possibility that the final recording will be taken while in the Nowhere. LOVE THAT!

Apologies if this summary heavy, but I hope this gave folks some delicious morsels to nibble on until next week! Thanks for reading and god I love this fucking podcast so much, it has filled the Magnus-shaped hole in me hearto. Anywho, toodles!

[otakween]

Digimon Data Squad (Savers) - Episode 48

Omg. That ending was actually kinda unhinged 😂 It started out extremely predictable but then they pulled that twist at the end and made things interesting. Appreciate that they tried something different!

This series was decent. At the end of the day I'm disappointed in how one note all of the characters became. It feels like Tohma was the only one who got significant development and the digimon-human relationships were hit or miss. I definitely prefer it to Frontier, but I'd rank it lower than the first 3 seasons.

And, Yoshi said it for me this time:

Notes:

Generic Digimon ending: The digimon have to go home, oh no!

Me:

It catches me off guard every time for some reason and then I go "oh yeah, obviously."

It was a cool idea to have the lesser digivolutions in the final battle, if not just to see them again. Of course the child form is the one we're most attached to anyways.

The whole episode was like the opposite of that "facts don't care about your feelings" saying. It was all emotion over probability lol (or as an 80s ballad would say THE POWER OF LOVE!). It was cool to see a buncha side characters (and randos) awaken their digisouls. What does this mean lore-wise? No clue. It didn't happen for everyone I noticed...

So in total, Yggdrasill had like 5 forms. I want more context for that weird blue one that looks like an icicle. Was that piloting the spaceship looking form? Weird.

Yggdrasill's final form kinda looked like Millenniummon from the games. Also kinda looked like a delicious Gusher lmao

Of course Suguru is fine ("Yggdrasill brought me back to life") but wait, what about BanchouLeomon?? Screw him, I guess lol. (Or maybe they showed him and I blinked and missed it...)

I really liked the digimon standing up for themselves and their need to return home. I feel like that gave them more agency. It was interesting that they acknowledged the confusion of losing a God (like damn, that would be messed up). Masaru calling Agumon selfish for wanting to go home was pretty out of pocket, but I understand he didn't really mean it. (And Agumon did good sticking to his guns).

Gaomon wagging his tail and blushing when he served Tohma tea 😭 Too precious.

Yoshi and Lalamon never got enough screentime so I didn't really feel anything when they had their last hangout. Police!Yoshi was kinda cute.

Ikuto and Chika looked so adorable in their school uniforms 😭 Glad to see they became good friends.

Okay, THAT ENDING. It wasn't really the fact that Masaru goes to live in the digiworld, it was the fact that there was ZERO pushback whatsoever and Suguru immediately encouraged it loooool 😂 He could just be gone...forever!? There's a fine line between supportive and neglectful here. Just, amazing.

I like how Falcomon was like "Ikuto, you can't go back to the Digital World, your family was just reunited!" Meanwhile Masaru's family was literally just reunited too but oh well. (Different dynamic, I know).

Anyways, I think it's hilarious that this is the direction they took and I'm very happy for Masaru and Agumon. Let's hope Masaru becomes a legend and not terrorized by an angry God like his dad. (If I overthink things like food, shelter, and human socialization I'm gonna spiral so I won't).

[metisket]

book recs request ❤🖤❤🖤 🙏🙏🙏 in this case, book recs that you feel have inspired your writing style, or inspired your fics somehow?

Hmmm...this is a fun one but a tough one, because I'm not sure I'm really self-aware enough to know the true answer here. But I'll try! A lot of books/authors I believe shaped my writing style did it when I was pretty young, so we're getting some YA over here.

Robin McKinley

I must have read The Outlaws of Sherwood a dozen times between ages 10 and 15. I love me a hero who literally doesn't want to be here and got conned into this by pushy, well-meaning friends. Marian was the most badass Marian I'd ever encountered. Random, complicated, weird side-characters, my beloved. Cecily somehow speaking directly to whatever was unhinged about my own childhood feelings about my gender. Flawless, 10/10, should really re-read to see if it holds up.

This is not to minimize the ridiculous number of times I read The Hero and The Crown, The Blue Sword, Beauty, and Deerskin, because I also read them So Many Times that they've probably become a part of my psyche. Literally none of her heroes want to be heroes. But they've been informed that they are. Apparently. Ugh. Love to hate that for them.

Lloyd Alexander

I also re-read The Chronicles of Prydain at least once a year for many years. It has almost certainly messed with my mind. I was especially unhinged about The Castle of Llyr, because Princess Eilonwy. The best, the worst, the angriest princess. Love and respect. Taran I could take or leave, particularly during his Taran Wanderer phase (I was less sympathetic to his growing pains than I was to Eilonwy's), but The High King was a fantastic payoff, loved everything, no notes.

...Damn, I need to reread this series, also.

Lois McMaster Bujold

I didn't read The Vorkosigan Saga until college, but it immediately hit my brain hard. Fantastic characterization. The way she writes trauma and recovery from trauma, amazing.

Miles. What a character. What a mess. What a problem. He is only a little guy, literally and figuratively, and he's going to do his best to convince you that he didn't mean to offend that guy, set that building on fire, or end that empire. You know. Like a liar.

Sarah Rees Brennan

My number one fanfic influence--her style of writing is so delightful that, particularly when writing Harry Potter fic, I'd sometimes find myself paraphrasing her. I had to Sarah Rees Brennan-proof my fic to make sure I wasn't being an accidentally plagiarist, because her turns of phrase would just go subliminal in my brain. This honestly may still be happening, and if it is, I'm so sorry, Sarah, it's not on purpose.

My favorite of her books is In Other Lands, the story of a boy who is whisked away to magic school in magic land and is extremely annoyed to find himself there. Like why. Why is the plumbing medieval. Why don't phones work. Why is this magical Sparta.

...He's not wrong, is the thing. But he won't bend and he won't break and he won't leave, so apparently he's just going to have to fix the world himself. God help everyone! Love him. Love his friends. Love the entire world and setup and every single side character.

Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman

I have been informed that you can see the Pratchett and Gaiman influences in my writing. I think this is a lie people have told me to make me feel better, but you know, I Want To Believe. So I'll include them.

Pratchett: Love for virtually the entire Discworld series, with an especially fondness for the Watch books and Susan. Still obsessed with Vetinari after all these years. What if Machiavelli but chill, though.

Gaiman: Lost track of how many times I've reread Sandman. The characters, the coolness, the weirdness, the meta! Especially obsessed with Death. Just someone being very calm and collected in the face of all kinds of horrifying nonsense. I admire that. Love nearly all of his books, but my favorite is probably Anansi Boys. Bet your stupid family drama doesn't involve gods. Or at least. I hope it doesn't.

Erin Morgenstern

I'm cheating by including her, because she didn't actually influence my writing, I just WISH SHE HAD. She can't, sadly, because my outline game will never be that strong. I know my limits. But DAMN. ENVY.

Both of her books are without flaw, but I did love The Night Circus just that little bit more, probably because I am weak to a circus. I firmly recommend The Starless Sea also, though, because it features an Unhinged Library. The characters and settings and descriptions--delightful.

But the best part is the WAY the stories are told. They're not chronological--they're like little intricate puzzle-boxes, where you open one panel, and there's a story, and you open another panel, and there's a different story, and by the fifth panel, there's a story that connected to the first panel, but also a little to the third panel, and--

LOOK, I CAN'T EVEN DESCRIBE IT. It should be confusing, but it isn't. It's perfect. Just the right amount of information at the perfect time connecting to other pieces of information in a complex, interesting, deeply satisfying way. I would kill to be able to do this. Kill. I actually tried to do this in 'Mirror Image', and I had to give it up, because the level of incoherence was off the charts. ffffffffffff howwwww does she dooooo eeeeeet.

Anyway, I think those are the big ones. Special mentions to: Tom Holt, a deeply weird writer who strongly influenced one fic in particular (Some Confusion, DGM), Patricia C. Wrede, because Dealing with Dragons in general and Cimorene in particular got to me, and Dennis Lehane, because a) his historical fiction is inspiring, and b) I love his handling of The Unhinged Friend in the Patrick and Angie books. The best unhinged friend. He booby traps his own home. Love him. What is wrong with him? We'll never know.