#i am gay angel

[ash-and-starlight]

humble contribution

[strngedve]

We know Castiel is based on Cassiel the archangel but my favorite little headcanon is that he was the archangel Cassiel.

He was created as the angel of Saturday, patron of the vulernable and the overlooked, the angel of tears, angel of temperance.

But that was it, wasn't it? Castiel lacked temperance -- He could never be like the other angels, God hadn't created him to be a warrior like his brothers; Cassiel was a gift to humans, the angel of strife and duality, something so fundamental to humanity. The only angel who could really understand them. The angel who sat and watched, waiting to be called upon to deliver peace. Cassiel was God's love for humanity. How could God not know Cassiel would get too close, too involved with humankind? Maybe he did, but he could never know his own love would ever defy him. Maybe he could never know that whatever he burned with his divine love was also scorched with his divine wrath, enough of it to break ranks when he finally tired of watching Heaven play with the Earth.

So God punished him, bent him into the shape of a solider and named him the shield of God as a reminder of what his role had always been. But Cassiel was special, he would always be special, so he disguised Cas, protecting him from the persecution of the other angels. Maybe he even wipes it all from Cas' mind, gets rid of the memory of rebellion before Cas can hurt himself with it again.

And Castiel does it right this time. He stays just as detached as he needs to be, he protects only who he needs to protect, he does only what he is told to do. So God gives him another chance, another opportunity to prove himself with something big, the perfect task for his angel of the vulnerable.

Go fetch Dean Winchester.

What could go wrong?

[drulalovescas]

dean didn't care for cas is such a wild take. because not only did dean care about the gay angel. but jensen ackles, THE VESSEL HIMSELF, cared about the gay angel. he cared about the gay angel so much that he had dean keep cas' trenchcoat. because he believed that's what dean would've done. he cared about the gay angel so much that he went to the writers and asked them to tone down the divorce arc. he cared about the gay angel so much that during the homosexual declaration of love he 1. flashbacked to the best of the best destiel moments and 2. forgot to act.

[angry-kid-with-no-money]

"Nora doesn't know anything about the things she writes about" "aftg is terrible queer rep" "the queer characters in aftg are so problematic"

Idk guys maybe the book series abt problematic ppl set in 2006 and written in the mid 2010s shouldn't be expected to hold up against scrutiny of what we consider to be moral and correct now, in 2024

Idk tho, idk

[barblaz-arts]

Best girls, best angels

[artsyannierose]

Angel blatantly tells Husk when he needs to bang nobody can tell me otherwise

but that one time husk tells Angel he’s horny

oh that one time…

[dragon-spaghetti]

Have some huskerdust doodles from my lunch break in work 💖

[seagull-scribbles]

New Years Eve Party

[loosethreadsofyoursoul]

while i will always love and appreciate the bisexual dean winchester agenda, i truly believe that if he was raised differently—or maybe if he grew up today instead—that boy would have been gay. like his love for women in a romantic/sexual context was always such a caricature and was continuously used as a symbol of masculinity that played against the roles assigned to him by his father growing up for the sake of suppressing any queerness he might exhibit. now whether that suppression was purposely written into his character or was a reaction to the character they had created, i’m not sure, but it’s there regardless.

i don’t mean to dismiss the love he felt for cassie or lisa, but particularly with lisa, i’m not sure he was ever in love with her, despite the fact that he did care for both her and ben. i get so frustrated watching the end of s5 because him going to her house and his perfect “apple pie life” being with her in suburbia genuinely came out of nowhere and i’ve never understood a) why it had to happen, and b) why it had to be lisa. but thinking about it in this sense, she was the closest thing he had in his life to everything he was raised to believe he should want by one john winchester, who lost his perfect wife, perfect family, perfect apple pie life and sent all of them down this path in the first place. so of course to dean, his happy ending would be with someone like lisa. but that’s the important part. someone like lisa, not lisa herself. he may have had love for her and he may have been able to picture a life with her, but it wasn’t necessarily because she was everything he wanted; she was a symbol of the things that tore his family apart and so to be with her felt like he was finally able to put some of it back together. and that makes me so sad for him because all of that is a result of the sense of responsibility ingrained in him growing up by john, not something he wanted for himself.

but back to his general attitude towards women, there was an excellent post that said he only acts like the typical womanizer he has a reputation for being around women deemed “stereotypical” by the misogynistic perspective. otherwise, he tends to take on a fairly brotherly role; he doesn’t tend to pursue any women he can “take seriously,” and is more intimidated or impressed by them than anything else. with the exception of cassie (which was pre-series and we never got full context for in the first place), he only ever pursued women with whom he would have a definitive ending—by that i mean women who he knows he’ll never see again or who would have a clearly defined role during the time they’re together that wouldn’t threaten the status quo. and yes these could also be the traits of a commitment-phobe or someone chronically on the move, but for one, sam doesn’t tend to do the same thing (see ruby, amelia, and eileen), and for two, given the things i mentioned already, it makes me consider it more of a result of him not actually being interested in women romantically.

his reaction to women when not purposely used as the butt of a joke or to perpetuate the “womanizer dean winchester” agenda is often so innately fraternal, caring in a way that doesn’t have any expectations behind it. and when there is a romantic context, so much of the relationship can be attributed to the way john raised him and the beliefs he has as a direct result; it’s never simply been built on the foundation of love.

every time he is dismissed as this macho het guy, it also dismisses so much of what makes him a wonderful character, and yes a lot of that is his queerness. so in a world where he didn’t grow up with roles and responsibilities that shaped him into someone he knew his dad hated and forced him to create this character for himself in order to survive? i think he would have been gay and he would have been okay with that.

[wizardcas]

destiel day today feels a bit like 2 headed calf poem to me. tomorrow when we find out the results their image will be wrapped up in new words and carried off in the reblogs. but tonight they are unaware and maybe even happy together here. there are twice as many i love yous as usual

[corpusdiem-seizethedead]

Pentious: Ssssay, where'ssss Angel? I wanted to assssk him for advice on assssking sssomeone out…

Husk: Uh-what? No, you really shouldn't.

Pentious: What? Why not?

Husk: Angel is a dumbass. He doesn't know shit about love.

Pentious: He's literally your boyfriend.

Husk: That's exactly how I know that.

[hiskillingjar]

brother-and-sister bonding

Relationship: Ren Hana/MC Rating: Explicit Includes: Fauxcest, Hate Sex, Bratting, Sex Toys, Lactation Length: 5400+ words

a super generous and fun request for an anonymous user on ko-fi, thank you so much!

if you'd like a commission of your own, feel free to check out my post and shoot me a message!

Life was easy for Ren.��

He had a routine, he had a structure, he had a set of rules that he could abide by, day to day, to make sure he stayed alive and stayed sane.

In the mornings (or early afternoons, depending on how long he slept in for, how bad the night before had been for him), he’d wake up, make breakfast, clean up after himself, and then maybe, occupy his time with a new show (he got through his watch list in record time, these days) or some heavily filtered internet access. 

At mid-day, he’d eat lunch, take a nap in the armchair in the living room while he watched another show, and, of course, try not to get himself killed (an important task, maybe the most!) 

In the evenings, if he lasted that long, he’d make dinner, clean up after himself (again), and maybe have a bath to balm his new wounds, before going to bed.

Then the cycle would start all over again for the rest of time, forever.

Often what people didn’t tell those who were getting rehabilitated after a long duration of captivity, was just how difficult life was suddenly going to get for them.

After the period of attention-heavy coddling, even captives had to engage in the real world again, and many cracked under the pressure of just how hard being a person could be,

Captivity was, unfortunately, very easy for someone like Ren, despite the ever-present danger that threatened him for what felt like every minute of the day. 

It was stable. It was routine. It was monotonous. 

And though he was smart enough to know that this wasn't what a life should be, living like a caged animal, too scared to make even one mistake lest he be punished for it within an inch of his life, there was a certain comfort to knowing exactly what he was going to do, every day, for the rest of his life.

Hence, his irritation when a new toy had come in and fucked all of that up.

And hence why he was currently staring at his computer screen, some monotonous, cloying, fan-servicey type livestream happening in the background of his brooding, instead of making dinner for the evening like he usually did, all because she had so generously offered to do it in his stead.

He seethed silently to himself as he shoved off his headphones with a huff, the smell of sticky brown sauce and tofu making his nose twitch, potent even from all the way downstairs. 

She was probably burning it, which just made him even angrier.

This was just about the chores, he told himself, his tail idly swaying with irritation (enough to make his computer chair spin to and fro). This was about the disruption to his routine throwing him out of wack and disorientating him, it was just that.

His anger surely had nothing to do with the beaming smile Strade would give her whenever she presented the shitty dinner she had made to him, reminding Ren of a husband and a new (inexperienced) wife, or the way he would pet her hair all the while as he ate, or even the way he would compliment her cooking (while he was sitting right there), commenting that she should make dinner more often, because "Ren's got a routine about his cooking" and he’d grown bored of it.

It was nothing to do with that, surely.

No way. 

"Ren," She said brightly, jolting him out of his thoughts and pulling any lingering attention he might have had on the livestream away, as she poked her head around the door frame with a beaming smile, always sunshine and roses. "Dinner's ready!"

“Mmf,”

He didn’t respond immediately, at least not properly, his ears twitching irritably as he set his headphones on his desk, turning menacingly (or an attempt of menace, at least) in his computer chair and glaring at her for what felt like a solid thirty seconds of pregnant silence. 

“What was that?” He asked, feigning ignorance.

“Um,” Her smile faltered slightly as she nudged the door open a little more. “I said dinner was ready. Black bean tofu and veggies.” She attempted another smile. “I’ve been at it all afternoon.”

Because you’re a lousy cook, he wanted to say, but he bit his lip to stop himself.

He knew he should have probably said something at least vaguely kind and grateful; a "thank you" or a "good work" or something like that. He knew that he should have attempted to express a least an approximation of sincere gratitude towards her effort, knew that because he had been conditioned into it. 

But a knot in his stomach stopped him from feeling anything even close to gratitude, replaced by a curling spiral of…something else he couldn’t (wouldn’t) name.

"You didn’t need to come up here and tell me.” He eventually said as flatly as possible, turning back to his screen. “I’m not hungry.”

"Are you sure?" She asked, tilting her head thoughtfully with a little pout, her long hair running down her shoulders and covering her full chest. "I got a recipe from one of your cookbooks. It's Japanese, special for you!"

Special for him?

He stiffened slightly against the tall back of his chair, before turning to give her a suspicious, sideways glance. 

Cast half in the bright light of the hallway, and half by the LED strips that covered his desk and the walls of his bedroom, she looked…well, pretty good, as much as he hated to admit it to himself. 

Dressed in a tight, milk-maid-like dress that hugged her body in several flattering ways, the neckline also cutting low enough to accentuate the smooth, pale plains of her chest, it was…sort of no wonder Strade had developed such a fondness for her in such little time.

He could only imagine what she might have looked like, begging and pleading for his mercy, her pale skin streaked with blood, her full lips open and gasping and crying. 

“I said I’m not hungry.” He repeated, turning back to his computer to hide his wandering eyes and the pinkish hue of his cheeks. "And...I mean, it IS kind of presumptuous that you think I'd want to eat it anyway, just because it's Japanese. Super rude of you, actually. You should ask what I want first, if you’re gonna do that."

"Mm, y-yeah, fine, I guess so." She finally stepped inside his room (without his asking to), making him turn back to look at her again with an annoyed glare. Her cheeks were slightly pink with embarrassment and her hands were clasped tont of her, fingers twitching in their entanglement. "You don't have to be an asshole, though, you know. I'm just trying to be nice..."

Nobody asked you to." He retorted sharply, crossing his arms over his chest with a childish huff. "I don’t need you to pretend to be all nice and caring, and…and motherly all of a sudden for whatever reason. Just stop.” He huffed again, his gaze flitting to the side. “I don’t find it cute, so don’t bother with that crap around me."

She stood back towards the closed door of his bedroom, her body straightening out, ridding itself of any pretence of embarrassment or bashfulness in her posture, with a little scoff and another pout, putting her hands on her hips.

Never beating the motherly allegations, it seemed.

"I'm not pretending, I just made dinner and wanted to include you,” She complained with a sharp look. “A-and motherly, what is that supposed to mean?"

He sighed and spun his computer chair to face her fully, and for a split second, he almost found her indignant pout endearing and soft of cute, almost enough to drop the whole thing and leave her alone to enjoy the dinner she had made special for him.

Just almost, though.

"Of course, you’re pretending," He snapped, rolling his eyes, his tail idly swaying again. "What, am I supposed to believe that you would normally act like some simpering housewife, making dinners and cleaning and wearing a pretty dress, if you weren’t trying to get Strade to like you? It’s all fake. You’re fake” 

He laughed and shook his head. 

"You like to act like you're sooo much better than me, don't you? Well, I can see through your bullshit act, so it’s not going to work on me. Get it?"

Her eyes widened slightly as he ranted to her, and she let out another scoff when he was finished, breathing out an aggravated laugh with a sardonic smirk.

"Are you kidding? That's the reason you're pissed off at me?" She crossed her arms, the weight of her full chest pooling over them, showing them off even more. "Because Strade is leaving you alone? Because you actually get to have a night by yourself instead of entertaining your fucking kidnapper so he doesn’t kill you when he’s bored?"

"No, that's not why I'm pissed at you, idiot." He jabbed back quickly, his tail lashing behind him as he sat forward in his seat. "I'm pissed off at you because your fake bullshit has been interrupting me all week. You keep going around the house,” He gestured widely with his hands, putting on a simpering tone. “Looking all cute and sweet and trying to act like some sort of housewife. What are you, Strade’s lapdog? Or are you just trying to suck up to him so you can get rewarded for being a good girl?"

She bristled at that, a scowl darkening her pretty features.

"Excuse me for having some semblance of a survival instinct.” She barked back. “Are you really so jealous that you'd create these bullshit excuses for yourself, Ren? Maybe you should be grateful that I’m not just leaving you to fend for yourself, that’s what someone else would do-"

"Survival instinct?! You don't understand anything!” He immediately shouted back, almost cutting her off as he thrust his hands against his chest. “How about you try feeling the way I do, try feeling like you've been cast off for the shiny new toy!  Tell me how fucking grateful you'd feel after that!"

She grinned smugly, looking almost triumphant that she'd gotten a reaction from him.

Maybe she wasn’t as sweet as he’d first assumed.

"You're pathetic, you know that?” She said, narrowing her eyes towards him, her tone cutting and sharp. “You're like a little kid, fighting for Daddy's attention."

That comment almost stopped him in his tracks, making him feel, instantly, like he had been punched in the face with a combination of rage, jealousy and despicable lust.

It was so absurd, so out of nowhere and yet so painfully on target that it made a furious blush spread across his face.

"Fuck you-" He murmured through grit teeth, his hands curling against the pockets of his joggers.

"Is that what he is to you, Ren?" She asked him with a mocking pout. "Is he your daddy?"

"You…" He stood up from his computer chair abruptly (enough to push it back against his desk), his tail whipping behind him furiously. "You don't, y-you’re one to talk! You’re the one who keeps sucking up to him, l-like you're soooo happy,” He gritted his teeth, his cheeks flushing darker as he tried to put some kind of authority to his voice. “T-To have Strade’s attention that you'll do whatever he wants, like you like being his whore or something!”

“I’m not his fucking whore!” She yelled back at him, almost at a breaking point of her own. 

“Then stop acting like one!” He hissed.

"Why don't you go suck Daddy's cock,” She bit back, her voice louder than it had been before (and surely loud enough for anyone downstairs to hear too). “If you're so fucking desperate for it?!"

“Shut up!”

Overcome by his animal instincts (to kill, bite, maim, hurt, whatever he needed to do to win), he practically leapt forward, his vision red with anger, and grabbed her by the wrists, digging his claws deep into her skin as he pushed her backwards against the closed bedroom door, each body wrestling to overpower the other.

“Ngh!” She cried out loudly, trying to yank back from his grip, making his claws dig in deeper, as if he had already tethered himself to her. “G-Get off me!”

When he was this close, barely inches from her face as spittle sprayed across his cheeks, all while she shouted and screamed with primal annoyance, he could see each wrinkle and twist in her furious expression, and he was suddenly compelled to hit her, take her by the shoulders and bash her head into the door, the wall, until there was nothing left to be angry at. 

He couldn’t help it, he told himself amid his rage. 

The prospect of slapping that taunting, insolent expression off her face and replacing it with something more appealing, something that better suited her pretty face, something red and bloody and meaty, was just…too compelling

“Shut up, you goddamn moron.”

He pressed himself against her as she kept trying to fight him off of her, using his (minute) weight to keep her pinned against the door, his tail lashing and his teeth bared.

“Stop talking crap like you know fucking anything about me,” He hissed, feeling his annoyance grow even more as she kept fighting and wriggling underneath him. “As though you’re so much better. Shut. Up.”

She kept on writhing against him all the while, her full hips occasionally colliding with his, little whimpers falling from her lips like a pinned animal. 

All of that (unfortunately) got his blood pumping like mad, the constant stimulation against his growing arousal, as well as the primal excitement of holding a squirming body still for a change (rather than being the one who was squirming), and he had to resist the urge to shudder and moan, feeling his skin prickle and his tail twitch as he pressed his body up against hers further, their hips aligned wonderfully.

He was aware, too, of the way her full chest (practically spilling out of her dress) was pushed against his, and the way he was forcing her to crane her neck back so she could even look at him.

It made him feel good.

It made him feel powerful. And he so rarely got to feel anything even close to that.

"You wanna play 'house', huh? Is that it?" He murmured as he pressed closer, forcing their faces together and growling into her cheek, before sliding a knee between her thighs and hiking it upwards, forcing her thighs to part. "Alright, if Strade is 'daddy', I guess that makes us 'brother and sister', doesn't it?"

Her eyes widened slightly at his growled words, stunned into near stillness before her expression twisted into one of shocked disgust and she kept squirming erratically underneath his body, especially so when his hips went forward, rubbing the beginnings of his erection against her thigh.

"Get the fuck off me!” She shrieked, shaking her head to shove him away.

“Ah-ah!”

He let out a mean laugh and grabbed her by the jaw then, his claws digging into her skin as he forced her to look at him, to see his golden eyes, sparkling with mirth, and know what he wanted from her. Her cheeks were flushed with furious humiliation, and her full lips were parted and wet with sprayed spittle, and his stomach felt like it was in knots from the effort of trying to control himself. 

“You were the one who fucked around with me, you little brat,” He said, his voice almost a low growl, as his snarling lips grew into a smirk, his knee going up higher and nudging at the front of her panties. "Oh, now you're fighting me because you don't want to play anymore? Is that it?"

"Don't touch me, you freak!" She protested again, crying out when his claws sank deeper into her wrists and the meat of her cheek, as sharp as a needle in a pin cushion, droplets of blood streaming out and beading around his fingertips. “You’re, ngh, you’re just as bad as he is!”

Was that an insult or a compliment? Depended on the day, he guessed.

“HAH! Am I?” He keened forward on his tiptoes then, so they were face to face, as close they could get, and he could feel her panicked breaths ghost over his face, warming it up even more than it was already. “I’ll show you how bad I can be, hm?” 

He hated her. He knew that much, at this point.

So why...why did seeing her pinned, wriggling, crying underneath him make his blood feel like it was roaring in his veins, like it had never done before?

Something something, there is an awful lot of love in hate.

Or, certainly, an awful lot of lust.

"Ohhh, little sister doesn't want to play anymore?” He taunted, lowering his voice to a cloying coo. “She wants to stay perfect and untouched for Daddy, doesn't she?" He then added sharply, as if he felt truly scorned, his breath growing faster as adrenaline and anger and hot arousal started to boil over and he rutted against her thigh even more, even faster. "Maybe he likes you so much because you'll play the whore, though, cus you'll play mommy for him."

"Nghhh, fuck," She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lip as he rocked into her. “I’m not a fucking whore-”

“Mm, I think you are,” He continued to taunt, one hand sinking from her jaw (leaving behind bloody gouges on her skin) to hungrily pull open the ties of her dress, the fabric unfolding and revealing more of her pale chest, heaving and spilling out of the tight cotton. "Your tits are big enough to be mommy, anyway, a little too big to be a cute, little sister.”

"You've got a dirty, nh!" She flinched as he tore more of the dress, retrieving a scrap from the front (making it unwearable, in the future) to bind her wrists together in a messy knot, before hooking them above her head on a jacket peg. "A-A dirty mouth, Ren..."

“And you’ve got a dirty mind,” He replied smugly with a big grin, his tail idly wagging as he leisurely paced to the side and opened the top drawer of his desk, retrieving a set of bullet vibrators and a roll of athletic tape.

Finally, he was getting the chance to do this.

It had been a long time coming, he thought with a smirk, looking back at her. And who knew when he’d get this chance again?

Best to make the most of it now.

“Did Daddy get this for you, little sis?” He asked as he paced back towards her with a lazy saunter, tauntingly toying with the flaps of cotton fabric with one of his bloody claws. “Or did you ask for it, because you like showing yourself off for him, hm?~”

"I'm not your fucking sister, you pervert," She growled with a venomous look in her eyes, trying to pull at the cotton sash binding her, though her effort was evidently in vain when she let out a pained hiss, the cotton rubbing painfully against the dots of blood marring her wrists. “That’s sick.”

“Oh, but you said it yourself, didn’t you?” He asked with an innocent tone to his voice, tugging the dress’ fabric down even more so that her nipples were revealed, swelling with involuntary arousal, ripe and delicious and waiting for him. “You can’t take it back now. You’ve let me think about it for too long, now.”

He hummed casually as he positioned the first bullet against her nipple and taped it in place with strips of tape, biting off each one as they lay flat on her breast, idly licking his lips as he did so.

"What’re you doing?” She asked with a confused look towards her now adorned chest, before her eyes went back to his, her brows knitting together with concern. 

“Don’t worry about it,” He smirked, positioning the second bullet across her other nipple and taping that in place too. “We’re just playing, aren’t we, sis? It’s nothing that serious.”

“W-We’re not,” She started, catching herself stammering and swallowing uncomfortably as her bound wrists rolled together again. “We’re not playing. I don’t want to play.”

“Mm, and I didn’t want you bothering me all night,” He replied airily, hiking up the skirt of her dress and revealing a sensible pair of panties. Figures, Strade never cared about important things like aesthetics. That was his job, he supposed. “We don’t always get what we want, do we?”

He then pressed his thumb against the front of her panties, his smirk widening into a (sort of) genuine smile when he found a slightly damp spot. 

“Or, heh, maybe you are getting exactly what you want,” He suggested, leaning into her with a lecherous smile, his tail swaying as he slid the last bullet into her panties, nestled against where she was most sensitive (and he guessed as much, from the way she immediately flinched and whimpered as he tried to adjust it into the perfect place). “And you’re lying to me. What a naughty little sister I have, hah~”

“I’m not-NGH!”

He turned all three vibrators on with the click of a button, and her eyes almost instantly bulged out of her skull, overwhelmed by the buzzing sensation, and her expression only got more exaggerated and hot as he slid the vibrators’ motor up another notch, giving her even more to focus on.

“You’re noooot?” He drawled with a teasing grin, pressing close to her again as she moaned mindlessly, squeezing her eyes shut to try and contain the amount of pleasure she was being forced to feel. “You’re not lying, you’re not enjoying this, or…” 

He turned the vibrators up another notch, hearing another loud, pained moan from her parted lips.

“You’re not my little sister, hm? Which is it?”

“Nnfff, Rennnn,” She murmured pleadingly, her thighs pressing together tightly and trembling, struggling to hold her body upright, as she stared towards him, any previous venom in her gaze and tone long absent. “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry for whatever I did. But, hah, please,” She whimpered again, eyes clenched shut again as another wave of white-hot pleasure hit her hard. “T-This is too much, way too much, nhh!”

“Oh, so, now you’re wanting to be good?” He asked with the same cloying tone as before, nuzzling against the crook of her neck, against her cheek, scenting her, his twitching ears grazing her temple and making him shiver. “You’ve seen what happens when you’re bad, and now you want to be a good girl for me, like you are with Daddy, hm?”

“Yesss,” She drawled, doing her best to look towards him and acclimate to what he wanted of her. “Yes, yes, I’ll be good, please just stop-”

“Tell you what…” He started, turning the vibrators up another notch and listening to her cry out with another big smile, running his tongue over his teeth. “Address me properly and maybe I’ll think about going easy on you. What do you think about that, hm?”

“H-Hah,” 

She breathed out, her bound hands curling into tight fists above her as she closed her eyes with a tight, grimacing expression, clearly not thrilled by what she was about to say, but…willing to do it for what she needed. 

“P-Please…big brother,” He lip twitched with slight discomfort. “Please turn your toys off…I promise, I’ll be a good sister from now on, I won’t bother you ever again, I promise.”

“Oh, that’s really good, little sis,” He mumbled his tone sweet with praise as he pressed a wet kiss against her cheek. “Sounds almost like you practised it, just for me. Mm, Daddy did well with you, didn’t he? He’s training you to be a good, little whore…”

“Ngh,” Her head sank against her heaving chest, her breathing hard. “Please, please, please…please stop, now, please?”

“Mm…too bad.”

He then slid the motor up to the highest setting he could, the incessant buzzing of the triplet bullets almost drowning out the wonderful sound of her pained cries and whines.

Almost.

“FUUUCK!” She cried out like she was experiencing something close to true agony, gritting her teeth, her eyes squeezing shut and opening wide over and over again, fluttering, like a broken baby doll, while her wet mouth gaped and drooled, unable to stop herself. “FUCK, STOP, PLEASE!”

This was truly too perfect.

Someone was actually experiencing (at least a close approximation of) true pain in front of him. They were writhing, crying, bleeding, and begging him for mercy (that they wouldn’t find) and for him to let them go, and whatever they had to do, they’d do, just for a chance at freedom.

She was in a position he had been in countless times before, all because of him.

He’d never been more turned on.

His shaking hand quickly sank to the front of his joggers, urgently untying the toggle before peeling them down and revealing his hard, leaking cock, the knot throbbing hungrily at the base, waiting for something warm to fuck and sink into, like he was sliding into an unknowable home.

"Fuck, you deserve this.” He breathed hard through his gritted teeth, working his hand up and down the length of it as he pressed closer against her, panting against her already hot skin, probably making her feel that much more uncomfortable. “It's what you get for getting on my nerves. Now, hah,” 

He squeezed the head of his cock hard, a pearl of pre-cum smearing against her naked thighs (scarred, just like his were, cut from the same cloth, a creation of the same master, embodying the same trauma, as much as he despised it). 

“N-Now you're going to be all ruined and fucked up, and Daddy is going to go back to loving me even more…hah,” His head tilted forward against her shoulder, breathing harder as he worked himself up even more. “That’s all I want…e-everything I want, mm-”

He knew that probably wasn’t likely.

He knew that anything he could have done to a new toy wouldn’t have ruined her for Strade in the slightest.

If anything, it might have made him like her even more.

But it felt good to say, all the same.

"Maybe you won't be a sister or a mommy anymore.” He whispered into her skin as she kept crying out for mercy, her jaw tense and her eyes wide and staring right ahead of her, thousands of miles away. “M-Maybe you'll just be some dumb dog that sleeps outside and pisses with her leg up, and...nhh..."

He squeezed another dribble of pre-cum across her skin, before reaching up to grope and paw at one of her breasts.

"Fuck, sis, that's so good,” He gasped, as a wave of white-hot pleasure hit him all at once. The full weight and size of her breast made it even more fun to handle and play with, which in turn just made him feel that much more aroused.  “Mm...if I didn’t think it’d get me killed, I’d have fucked you by now, without a care in the world…mm.” 

She moaned brainlessly again, her head sinking against her thick, metal collar, bucking mindlessly against nothing as she was pushed closer and closer to her breaking point.

“Nnhh, that’s okay though~” He breathed out with a wheezing little titter, running his tongue over his fangs before pressing another kiss to her shoulder, her collarbone, her neck and her jaw. “It’ll feel good knowing you’re losing your mind because of me anyway…even if I can’t fuck you yet.”

“Nghh, please,” She drawled with a shaking exhale, pleading, soft thighs clenched together as she sank against her binds, the ratty cotton seemingly the only thing keeping her upright. “Please, fuck me, I want you to-”

“Ohoho, how she changes her tune now,” Ren laughed again, filled with unexpected energy to persist as he pulled back to really look at her, exhausted and empty of the protest she was full of before. “What, has my sweet little sister decided that she wants to play the whore all of a sudden? My my, we really aren’t ourselves when we want something, are we?”

“Ren, hah, big brother,” She squealed as he lowered his head to tongue at her breast, or, at least, what little of her areola he hadn’t covered with the tape. “Please, please, this feels like torture…”

“Oh, but it’s supposed to, sis,” He purred with an indulgent smile, nuzzling against her chest as his fist moved faster, up and down, his cock, his own arousal getting close to painful, he was so close. “Ngh, it’s supposed to be all fun for me, and torture for you. This is how things work around here, after all, don’t you know that?”

“Ghhhh, too much,” She whined, squeezing her eyes shut again, her head hitting the door as she tipped her head back. “Hurting, please, nhh…”

“Shhh, I know, baby,” Ren thencooed softly, his tail wagging at her needy tone as he peeled the athletic tape from her sore nipple and pulled the bullet aside, giving himself the full expanse of her nipple to tongue and taste as he pleased. “Just be good and I’ll try and make this bearable for you, kay?~”

“Stop, stop, hah!” Her eyes went wide again as she started to struggle. “Stop, ngh, t-that’s really sore!”

“You know I’m not going to do that,” He smiled teasingly, before slipping the now available bullet into her panties with the third one, only adding more to her torture and quickly making her shut up again. “Try to endure it, okay? I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

“Nhhh,” She moaned helplessly, her eyes rolling back into her head (where they belonged, not looking at him, not seeing him), her mouth open and gasping and drooling.

“That’s it,” He praised with another smile, kissing her nipple again. “Much better.”

He indulgently ran the flat of his tongue over the ripe bud of her nipple as he kept fucking his fist, latching onto it like a babe and suckling eagerly, the taste and weight of her body against his pushing him, too, that much closer to the edge.

He was already so close, already there, when-

“MM-!”

Ren pulled back quickly, his eyes wide and his tongue between his teeth, when he spotted…

Was that milk? Oozing from her chest?

“You’re…lactating,” He pointed out, looking up towards her empty face (she was so lost, so far gone, so lovely to look at already) with a furrowed expression before a shaky smile crossed his face and he looked back down to where her nipple was still dribbling fluid. “Oh…hah, wow, that’s…um…”

His face was beet red and his cock was throbbing even more against his palm.

“Really, really fucking hot.”

He closed the temporary gap between the two of them quickly, suckling again at her nipple and moaning as another gush of fluid shot across his tongue, sweet and fatty and so delicious, he thought he was going to go crazy.

“G-God, I guess you really are Mommy, huh?” He murmured shakily, licking his lips (licking his fangs while he was at it) as he desperately lapped up any of the remaining drops that ran down her breast. “Mm, that’s okay, though. You’re still my sweet little sister, even if you are getting too big for it, nnhHH!”

His mouth went back to suck her nipple again, jerking himself off so roughly (so much so, her breast muffled actual whimpers) that it was starting to hurt, his cockhead sore and red and weeping with beads of pre-cum now, he was that close to climax and so desperate for release.

Another spurt of breast milk crossed his tongue, which he swallowed eagerly with another whimper, his lids fluttering and his legs trembling from the exertion of holding himself upright.

He was so close, everything about this was perfect, it was all perfect, He was so close, he was almost there, he was-!

“Are you two coming down for dinner or what?! I don’t want to be kept waiting~”

[ultrainfinitepit]

I keep getting messages from people saying they wish they could get certain Pride Angels designs but don't feel comfortable doing so if it's not their flag. Personally this has never been an issue for me and I get any design regardless of flag if it looks cool. But I'm wondering if I'm in the minority here! Let me know in the poll.

[wolvesbaned]

monster girls' night :^)

[markantonys]

Let Rand And Mat Kiss 2k23 feat. the Josha And Dónal MLM Character Cinematic Universe

Caged (short film, 2013) Angel (short film, 2018) Gewoon Vrienden (2018) SAS: Rogue Heroes (2022)

[theearloftophats]

ULTRAKILL MORE LIKE ULTRAGA-[a small red dot appears on my chest. I freeze in fear. but its too late. Before I can react, I am silenced by the government. Blood splatters. Screaming erupts from the crowd. Multiple people are trampled in the ensuing chaos]

I love painting actually what the fuck

W/O the overlay layer =]