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ggidolsmuts · 9 months ago

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"Smart" Home - Le Sserafim Sakura, Chaewon

TW: Aphrodisiac use, purely to make a really stupid tech pun. Otherwise, this is relatively vanilla, but the concept is quite out there... Closest thing would be my Savage(d) and Guilty Pleasures stories? Sorry for the slight spoilers I guess lol

"Sakura-san, are you free later today? Would you like to join me for a coffee?"

"Sakura yah, you're so pretty, you should date! Are you seeing anyone at the moment? I know someone if you're interested."

"Kkura-unnie, a close friend says you're his favorite member, do you want to meet him? He's a good guy."

Despite her popularity, Sakura remains aloof, gently but firmly dissuading any potential suitors. Some wondered if she was just extremely private and already had a partner in secret, but her situation was actually a lot more complex...

"I'm back," Sakura calls out as she enters her house.

"Welcome back, Sakura, how was your day?"

"Tired."

"Would you like to relax? I have prepared the room, today's a training day."

"Oh right, yeah, sure why not." Sakura slips her top off first, leaving a trail of clothes (jeans, bra, panties) as she follows the disembodied voice of AInata. It is the product of Sakura's tinkering, the hobby she works on when she is not crocheting.

"Please strap in." Wholly naked she slips her legs and arms into place and they clasp around her ankles and wrists. Sakura closes her eyes, and she allows AInata to do its thing. It begins with a brush against her lips, not quite a kiss, but something softer—a velvet scarf glancing by. The fabric wraps around her neck, causing goosebumps to rise before it goes to her chest. Slowly it rubs against her nipples, and they grow hard and sensitive. With her legs spread Sakura can feel the beginnings of a trickle down her thighs—AInata was extremely competent at foreplay. The velvet scarf moves further down her body, wrapping warmly around her tight abs, giving her the sensation of being hugged. Her legs are split slightly further apart, and then—

"Unnnngh..." A cock parts her lips, but does not penetrate. The head of it rubs against her pussy, making her get even wetter. Back and forth it rubs, and Sakura bucks her hips, letting loose a moan and yearning for it to enter her. It is a cock she knows will give her extreme pleasure, having been designed and made to her "specifications". She tries to bring her hands down, wanting to shove it into herself, but AInata reacts, bringing her arms back up and making sure she stays spread-eagled. It uses her actions as a cue, and thankfully the dildo pushes into her firmly.

"Ohh, oh yes fuck!"

"Would you like to cum once, Sakura? Or should we proceed with training today?"

"Once first, but make sure you are recording data."

"Of course." Sakura is instantly swept up in pleasure as the cock begins thrusting in and out of her, the wrap around her seeming to pulse, matching the rhythm of the thrusts. In the privacy of her own home Sakura moans unreservedly, her hands allowed to dangle in the air, held up against some imaginary shoulders. It isn't a perfect simulation, but with Sakura's head in the clouds, it is a good enough imitation of a solid fuck with someone.

"Yes, yes, yes! I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" With a loud groan the cock pushes itself deeper into her, mimicking a lover finishing with her as Sakura's pussy contracts around it ecstatically, and audible drops of liquid are heard splattering the floor as more juice trickles down her thighs and legs, before being splashed about by her twitching feet. Limply Sakura hangs in the air, held up only by the restraints.

"Fuck that was good... Report?"

"Loudest vocalization was about 75 dB. Maximum heart rate was 130 BPM, fluid flow was minimal, about 50 cc." AInata continues to read out its measurements as Sakura manages to lift her head and wriggle her fingers and toes. "Vaginal grip was in the 46th percentile, body flush was Pantone 698U, body temperature was measured at 38 Celsius via thermal imaging. Should I continue?"

"No, that's fine, let's discard that run. Let me down, I want a shower before we start training."

"Of course, I will begin sterilizing the room."

"No need, I'll be back in like 10 minutes." Sakura leaves the room and heads straight for the shower, feeling a lot more relaxed after her session. It had been weeks she started the project, and AInata has learned extremely quickly how to pleasure her in the meantime. As she soaps herself up, Sakura's body warms again at the upcoming training session—it's one thing to have AInata get her off, but the thing she looks forward to the most are the training sessions. She doesn't even bother toweling herself off as she re-enters the training room.

"Welcome back Sakura, I sense that you are wet, should I dry you off?"

"Yes please." A robotic limb holding a hairdryer immediately appears, and Sakura simply stands still, allowing the warm air to flow all over her body, drying her hair and skin. "Thank you. Shall we begin the training?"

"Of course, please strap in." Sakura gets in once more, velvet wrapped around her torso. "I will begin training when you give the go-ahead."

"Begin." The breath is pushed out of Sakura as she is instantly rotated horizontally, lying in midair. Her hands are pushed above her head and the wrap pulls on her, as if a heavy weight is on top.

"God you're so hot Sakura, so fucking sexy." AInata's voice is now gruff and deep in her ear, and there is a semi-wet rub against her neck—a tongue licking her, and the firm pressure of a kiss. A throaty moan escapes her when she feels the cock enter her. Sakura's work brings new meaning to the phrase "Deep Learning" as AInata pushes inexorably into her. Rubs on her clit help her get even wetter, and between AInata's dirty talk and the thorough fucking Sakura loses herself to the training. Loud cries bounce around the room, and Sakura cums twice before AInata ramps it up.

"I'm going to share you," it states. Sakura is manipulated on to all fours, and she is looking at the floor of the training room, her own juices splatted on the floor, slowly flowing down the drains. The cock presses into her again, and to her surprise a second one is pressed against her ass.

"Mmm?!" It sprays lube across and into her, and in short order a cock is being pushed into her other hole. It's not a foreign sensation, but having two cocks in her is certainly new training space that AInata is looking into—today's session will be very insightful. A slightly different voice floats into her ear as it slowly pushes deep into her ass.

"You like this Sakura? One in each hole? Let us find out." Sakura can only drool and moan as she is experimented on. It starts off with synchronized thrusts, both cocks pushing deep in her ass and pussy at the same time. Then they begin to alternate—one in, one out. Then they start to drill her, the cock in her ass staying still while the one in her pussy thrusts rapidly. Then it is switched, her ass pounded mercilessly as her pussy stays plugged. The way AInata conducts its training is methodical, but the way Sakura cums is anything but. She clenches erratically around the cocks, unable to keep up with the changing of the tempo. When they withdraw from both holes, Sakura's juices splatter obscenely on the floor, adding to the puddle that isn't draining fast enough. For a brief minute the only thing that is heard is Sakura's harsh breaths and the drip-drop of slick from her pussy. A soft whirr is heard, and then it stops.

"Epoch 1 complete, beginning Epoch 2."

"Oh my GOD!" The re-entry in both holes take her by surprise, this time feeling even better—AInata has updated the cocks, reshaping it based on Sakura's responses earlier. The training regime is the same, the cocks fucking her in various rhythms. This time AInata rotates her into a vertical position, and soon both cocks are thrusting into her rapidly. The wrap around her tightens, making Sakura feel as if she is being slammed between two people. Her legs jerk and twitch uselessly.

"Cum for us," the merged voices whisper in her ear. A modular fingerpad rubs against her clit, and Sakura screams in blissful oblivion, blood pounding in her head.

"FUCK YES!" Sakura squirts violently, limbs thrashing about and head thrown back. A sheen of sweat across her skin as the orgasm runs through her, her tummy twitching and whole body trembling. If she could see herself, her body is completely flush, as if she has just sprinted a mile.

"Epoch 2 complete, beginning—"

"Pause!"

"Training paused."

"R-Report."

"Vocalization hit 85 dB, in the 100th percentile. Maximum heart rate was 140 BPM, fluid flow at 150 cc. Vaginal grip was at the 100th percentile, anal grip was also at the 100th percentile."

"Did you account for the pressure from using two dildos at once?"

"I did not, recalculating... 95th and 97th percentile respectively."

"Make sure to account for it in the future."

"Yes, Sakura. Should I continue the report?"

"No, that's fine. Save the results for future use."

"Yes."

"K-Kkura unnie?" Sakura's eyes snap open.

"Chaewon?!"

Chaewon had made her way to Sakura's place a while earlier. She wanted to pick something up from Sakura, as well as bring her some coffee since she had seemed so stressed during the day. As with the other members, she lets herself in with the passcode. Ordinarily this would not be an issue, but Sakura did not expect anyone to visit at all.

"Kkura unnie, I'm here! Kkura unnie?" Chaewon calls out into the seemingly empty place. She leaves the coffee on the table and walks about. "Kkura unnie, where are you? Chaewonie is here!" she calls out in a singsong voice.

Then she hears something. Chaewon has never heard it before, but she knows immediately what it is—Sakura moaning. Chaewon probably should have just blushed and left, but she never heard Sakura like that, and the continued moans and cries have left her a little curious and more than a little aroused. She quiets down, slinking in the direction of the sound, following the trail of clothes Sakura had left. Chaewon gets warmer and warmer as she gets warmer and warmer in the hide-and-seek game she's playing with herself. Sakura is louder than Chaewon's ever heard her unnie be—the thought of Sakura letting loose is almost unthinkable.

Nothing could prepare Chaewon for what she sees when she finally finds Sakura, for the unthinkable is merely child's play compared to what is in front of her. Sakura is spread open, nude body for all to see, sweaty blonde hair covering her face. Her pale skin is flushed pink, nipples stiff and quivering as she shakes uncontrollably. Chaewon's eyes are irresistably drawn between Sakura's legs, and they widen as she processes the thick dildo plunging in and out of her, spreading her swollen lips. Chaewon tries to look away in embarrassment, but all she sees next is the large puddle of juice beneath Sakura—just how much, or how hard, did she cum? Entranced, Chaewon watches silently, her breath getting heavier and her panties getting wetter.

"FUCK YES!" She jumps when Sakura screams, the loud rush of slick on the floor thundering in her ear. Speechless Chaewon watches her unnie go from crazed to normal, slowly recovering, and... talking to someone? Chaewon has burning questions, and a burning need between her legs, she couldn't stay silent anymore, she had to ask.

"K-Kkura unnie?"

"Chaewon?!" The blood drains from Sakura's face. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I came to pick something up, I brought you coffee too."

"O-Oh... How long have you been here?"

"A couple minutes, I think?" The two women stare at each other silently—what is there to say, what can be said? AInata breaks the silence.

"Hello Chaewon, I am AInata, Sakura's assistant, would you like a cookie?" Sakura's eyes widen and she opens her mouth, but it is too late, and Chaewon accepts the cookie without thinking.

"AInata?" Chaewon's mouth opens silently as a sudden heat fills her body—both in the real world and on the internet, she shouldn't have blindly accepted cookies, but Sakura's too late to warn her, and soon the aphrodisiac cookie is working its way down Chaewon's body. Sakura had developed it with AInata to arouse herself when she didn't "feel" like training, but in her pleasure-dulled state she was slow to recognize it. "You're... a computer?"

"Yes, Sakura made me."

"What are you doing with her?"

"She is training me—"

"AInata, enough, why did you give her the cookie?"

"I thought she would be useful in gathering more information. I need not remind you that I only have data based on you, which is biased."

"Was what I saw earlier, was that training?" Chaewon interrupts the conversation. Sakura is silent, but AInata is not.

"Yes."

"I want to see it again," Chaewon says immediately.

"C-Chaewon, ah!" Sakura yelps as AInata does as Chaewon wishes, beginning to move the dildos again. Her legs are brought up and spread, and the result is Sakura lewdly displayed for Chaewon, showing just how the training is done. The leader of Le Sserafim's mouth drops open as she realizes that Sakura has been fucked in both holes the whole time—between the aphrodisiac and the sight in front of her Chaewon's mind is melting, and the liquid is going all between her legs.

For Sakura's part, she can barely form a word as she is thoroughly fucked once more, the thought of being watched by Chaewon making her eyes roll. Through her erratic vision she sees Chaewon fidget, beginning to tug at her clothes, rubbing her neck, like she is too warm in her current outfit—the thought of Chaewon taking part in the training as well drive her quickly to climax.

"Oh fuck, oh FUCK?!" Sakura feels a warm fluid filling her pussy, the cock in her seeming to throb. "Nngh!" The creampie-like stimulation makes her spray as the dildo pulls out abruptly, and she splashes Chaewon with her squirt.

Chaewon twitches as Sakura's fluids land on her, her knees going weak. Her tongue brushes over her lower lip, where a drop has landed—sweet, tangy. She watches the fluids pour out of her unnie's pink pussy, and her inhibitions crumble—she gives in to her desires, to join whatever insanity Sakura concocted.

"What, what was that?" Sakura gasps, still recovering and ignorant of Chaewon's state.

"I have been reviewing your browser history, and noticed the presence of the search term 'creampie'." AInata states. "I sought to replicate it with your fluids, assuming it to be most natural. The consistency is of course, not accurate, but based on the data just now I think the effects of a creampie on your orgasm is worthy of further study."

"I-I'll do it, I want to... help." Chaewon's whisper thunders in Sakura's ears. The Chaewon standing in front of her is already unrecognizable, face wet from Sakura's own squirt, thighs rubbing together needily as she looks at Sakura with glassy eyes.

"Are you—"

"Please." The tone with which Chaewon begs her nearly drives Sakura wild.

"Okay, let me get out—"

"There is no need, Sakura, I have prepared another set of restraints in the event you brought someone to help with training."

"I... Okay, good job AInata."

"Thank you. Please remove your clothes Miss Chaewon." Sakura watches her groupmate strip down, pulling her sweater over her head and removing her tiny shorts, revealing her own tight body.

"Call me Chaewon, what's next?"

"Please put your feet and hands in the restraints here." Chaewon follows the instructions, shaking a bit in anticipation as they clasp around her wrist and ankles. "I will now begin training, Chaewon."

A low moan fills the room as a similar velvet wrap is pressed all over Chaewon—her lips, her neck, her breasts, her thighs. She sounds ever so desperate, driven mad with desire by the cookie and everything she has seen today. Chaewon croons when a dildo is placed against her pussy, rubbing her lips.

"Report your findings as you train," Sakura asks in a shaky voice.

"Of course. Lubrication is substantial, ready for training already." In other words, Chaewon is wet, and she is ready to be fucked. The thought is punctuated with a groan as the dildo disappears into Chaewon. The training begins with soft moans, but they quickly get louder as AInata begins pushing on her womb.

"She responds well to deep tissue stimulation." The wording is inexact, AInata showing a rare case of hallucination, but Sakura understands it just fine—Chaewon likes it deep.

"Yes! Harder, faster!" Her desperate cries ring throughout, and under the effects of the aphrodisiac Chaewon is hurtling to her first orgasm. With the pressure of the weighted wrap around her, she's lost in the sensations of getting fucked, even if she's alone. She looks down her body—her own legs are spread, and she's watching the cock disappear into her body. She clenches, and she whines as the cock gets bigger inside her—in response to her tight grip, AInata makes the dildo thicker, testing, and finding that it is enhancing Chaewon's pleasure. In her blissed out mind and the shaking of her own body as she is fucked, Chaewon thinks she's bulging, and the obscene thought makes her cum.

"Fuhnnngh!" Sakura watches her leader's tight body struggle against the restraints, jerking in a powerful orgasm—it was impossibly hot, and Sakura's squirming, her own two holes still filled with cocks.

"I would like to conduct adversarial training." AInata brings up as Chaewon gasps, coming down from her climax.

"What do you mean?" Sakura asks.

"I will train on both of you together, it will allow me to receive more reliable data. I can try what works for you on her, and what works for her on you." Sakura agrees immediately—after watching Chaewon she's too horny to say no now. The cock in her ass is removed, and Sakura is put into the same position as Chaewon.

"I will continue with the training then." Sakura whines much like Chaewon as the cock inside her gets bigger. Her first thought is realizing that Chaewon likes a bigger cock.

There is no second thought, because Chaewon is fucking right, and it seems to stretch her hole and mind to the limit. The two of them are pushed to orgasm after orgasm, taking turns as AInata tries different things on them. Chaewon watches Sakura get fucked to a toe-curling climax before she feels her own position adjusted—now she's tilted forward, hips above her head as she getting plowed from behind. When Sakura recovers, Chaewon is already well on her way to her second orgasm, and it is not too long before Sakura is put into that same position and dicked down. AInata makes changes small and large—the angle, the speed, the rhythm, the overall position, everything is taken into consideration as the two of them cum their brains out.

There is a distinct difference though—unlike Sakura, who has a puddle of juice beneath her, Chaewon creams around the cock stretching her out, the thicker whitish fluid seeming to cling to the cock, and more oozes out as AInata continues its training. Every time Chaewon cums, there are heavy drops of girlcum, dripping from the dildo, and every time Sakura climaxes, there is a wet splatter on the floor. AInata continues the training, until...

"Oh..." Sakura cums once more, and this time she feels the cock filling her again, except it is thicker, more substantial, more satisfying. She watches Chaewon's cum slide down the cock opposite her, and she instinctively knows what's inside her own pussy.

"Fuck Chaewon, CHAEWON!" Sakura's scream jolts Chaewon out of her stupor, and she watches her unnie gush all over the floor—she never thought she'd hear Sakura call her name like that.

"U-Unnie..."

"D-Did you— use her fluids?" Sakura gasps, and Chaewon blushes, realizing what she meant—that her very own cum was filling her unnie!

"I used a mix, the resulting mixture is more consistent with real ejaculate, I will collect more from Chaewon." Before Chaewon can grasp what AInata meant, she feels a cock push against her ass, and cold lube begins spurting in.

"Unnie, unnie, unnie!" Chaewon's cries of pleasure fall on deaf ears as Sakura's eyes are glued to the scene in front of her—as soon as a second cock enters Chaewon from behind, she absolutely drenches the cock in her pussy with girlcum, a deluge of thick fluid running down the shaft. AInata withdraws the dildo in her pussy, and heavy plops land on the floor between her legs—the cock in her ass is still going, pumping more cream out of her. The relative respite is temporary as AInata customizes the dildo for her greater pleasure, and Chaewon seizes up as it pushes into her again.

"Mmmm!" Chaewon can't even form words as the new cock feels better than ever. Her pussy is stretched deliciously, rubbing over her just right, and the cock in her ass also seems to be getting bigger, pulsing and throbbing!

"It's! Inside—" Chaewon falls silent, and Sakura watches her mind disappear—Sakura's eyes dilate with lust as she watches Chaewon's own eyes roll in her head. She creams without pause, like a dam in her is broken as she jerks in a powerful orgasm. When the cocks are withdrawn, the cum-mixture spills from both her holes, and the truth dawns on Sakura—Chaewon was just double-creampied, filled to the brim with their combined fluids. Sakura expects the same for herself, and she tightens in anticipation, but it does not come just yet.

"Commencing DirectInput trial with two people." That's new. Sakura's ass is left gaping as the cock is removed, and Chaewon's mess of a pussy is plugged once more, both women taking only one cock now. Sakura gasps as the cock in her thrusts in, and her hips buck instinctively. Seemingly in response, the cock in Chaewon thrusts in, and she whines and jerks her body. Turns out, it is mimicking their hip movements, for when Sakura snaps her hips forward again, and Chaewon cries out loudly in response—yes, Sakura's the one fucking Chaewon! The very thought drives Sakura crazy, and she's bucking her hips with wild abandon, watching her "cock" drive into Chaewon repeatedly. Of course, as Sakura moves her hips, her own dildo is moving inside her, building her pleasure up as she gives Chaewon pleasure.

"Kkura unnie, Kkura unnie!" At this point Chaewon is well aware of what's Sakura doing, seeing and feeling her unnie's cock drive right through her own body. When Sakura groans loudly in her climax, Chaewon cums with her, fists clenched tightly and toes curled in ecstasy—she can't help it when it's Sakura's cock filling her womb with cum.

And then it's Chaewon's turn. She starts off slowly, testing with a few slow strokes. Soon though, Sakura's begging to be fucked.

Begging her.

"F-Faster, go faster Chaewon-ah! Harder!" She's still sensitive, but for Sakura, Chaewon can go fast, and she moves her hips as quickly as she can, her lower lip quivering as the pleasure rises in her own body. Sakura's abs twitch equally in pleasure, overstimulated but wanting Chaewon to fuck her to an orgasm. Chaewon puts her all into it, and Sakura feels each and every thrust rock her body, the wrap tightening around her, as if Chaewon's slamming her directly. She had never wondered how Chaewon fucks, now she won't be able to not think about it ever again. With a few more thrusts Chaewon delivers in more ways than one, pushing Sakura off the edge as she pumps her full of cum, the two of them cumming together once more.

"Testing simultaneous DirectInput now." Both cocks now move in response to the other's movements, and the two women are bucking haphazardly, each action triggering a reaction from the other—Sakura would buck her hips, which would make Chaewon jerk in response, making the cock in Sakura move and thrust. Sakura's fucking Chaewon, Chaewon's fucking Sakura, and they're cumming at the same time, giving the other a creampie. They both scream when a cock is pushed into their ass again, and it becomes a completely unhinged feedback loop—Chaewon finds herself fucking Sakura's ass, all while Sakura fucks her pussy, and then the input switches, and Chaewon feels Sakura deep up her ass while she pounds into Sakura's squirting slit. They feed off each other's peaks, filling each other with their mixed fluids in every hole, even as Sakura produces more slick and Chaewon produces more cream.

It all finally stops when AInata says so, withdrawing all dildos from their holes and making them squirm at the sudden emptiness.

"Disk capacity reached. Sakura, I will require more space, or to upgrade our cloud storage plan."

"Mmm... Okay, let's stop the session."

"Would you like a report? Vocalization—"

"Later, l-let us down please." They are lowered to the floor and the restraints are removed. They collapse in their own juices, legs weak and limbs a little numb from being restrained for so long. "Chaewon, are you okay?"

Chaewon is not okay. She has watched Sakura get fucked by AInata, then she watched Sakura get filled by her own cum, and then Sakura fucked her, filled her, and then she fucked Sakura back, filling her unnie similarly. Her world is warped, she could never see Sakura the same way again. Yet, she had one thing left to do.

She needed to touch Sakura.

"Kkura unnie..." Chaewon crawls over her shocked unnie. "I need you." She shows her desire with a kiss, and Sakura's too horny to push her away—after watching each other cum and squirt the whole time, she wants Chaewon too. Sakura leads Chaewon to her bedroom, and legs and arms and tongues finally tangle together in the sheets. Maybe it's the cookies still having an effect on her, but Chaewon gets on top of Sakura, driving a thigh against her unnie's wet pussy while she ruts down on Sakura's hip. The friction is delicious and electric for the two of them, leaving them whimpering in pleasure. Le Sserafim is known for their abs, and the two of them put their strong cores to good use, grinding their hips and making sure their thighs are left smeared with the other's juices.

Chaewon succumbs first, whimpering into Sakura's neck as her unnie bucks powerfully, bouncing Chaewon on her lap. She slips a finger into Chaewon's ass and with a yelp Sakura feels Chaewon cream, each squeeze of her ass seeming to produce more from the quivering leader.

"I want you to cum too unnie..." Chaewon whines, using the last of her strength to suck on Sakura's tits, pushing her thigh against Sakura's slit, and rubbing her clit with a yearning finger. The triple assault sets Sakura off, and with a strangled cry she shakes, rattles, and falls apart, soaking the sheets with the last of her cum. When she comes back down, Sakura finds Chaewon sucking on her lower lip, and she acquiesces, kissing and caressing her leader.

Weeks later, Chaewon goes up to Sakura in the dressing room, distracting her from her crocheting.

"Kkura unnie!"

"What what? What's the problem?"

"Nothing, nothing! I was wondering if you wanted to go to the gym together?"

"Gym? Our PT session is tomorrow."

"I know, I meant, do you want to do more... training tonight? With your friend?"

"What? Sakura has a friend?" Yunjin quips without thinking.

"Yah I have friends too you know!"

"Sure sure, whatever."

"Psh. Sure Chaewon, we can train tonight."

"M-Make sure they have enough space," Chaewon whispers, the two of them turning as red as Yunjin's hair. Thankfully, Yunjin is talking loudly, complaining about how her phone doesn't recognize her voice commands, and their manager agreeing that AI is stupid.

Oh how wrong they are.

A/N: I was actually writing a different story, and this one was supposed to be just a Sakura solo thing to use their song title "Smart" and poke fun at smart houses, but then the thought of Chaewon walking in on her and getting roped into it together was too hot and I had to get it out. I mixed the Guilty Pleasure concept (one person feels the other person via something) with the whole tech and smart house thing. The velvet wrap thing is kinda like a weighted blanket, and supposed to mimic the weight of an actual person pressing on you during sex, but I didn't really use it too well, in my head it just helps with positions too, don't think too hard about that part lol. Anyways hope it makes enough sense, thanks for reading!

#smut #le sserafim #sakura #chaewon

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glitchlight · 11 days ago

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Oh No! I got mad about something someone I dont know posted on the internet and I am brooding and angry about it! Instead of posting I will relax and reflect and do something more productive like:

Scuba diving

Yoga

National Park Travelers Club

Becoming A Nudist

Jigsaw puzzles

Wikipedia editing

Inventing A Time Machine

Woodworking

Masturbating

Succumbing To The Amulet

Genealogy

Masturbating

Dark Alchemy

Robot combat

Bungee jumping

Electronics repair

Beekeeping

Lego sets

Shuffleboard

Slacklining

Eating Lugnuts Off The Cars In the Walmart Parking Lot

Photography

Metalworking

Hacking

Golfing

Paintball

Transcending the Limitations of Flesh

Welding

Thrifting

Sleeping

Abolishing The Division of Night and Day

Pet fostering

Meteorology

Getting Gone

Bowling

Dumpster Diving

Book collecting

Amateur radio

Meditating On My Uncountable Failures

Weaving

Ice skating

Graphic design

Brewing

Masturbating

Car racing

Stealing

Camping

Teaching Crows How To Commit Tax Fraud

Getting Really Good At Beatboxing

Cooking

Getting My Stink Salted

Bird watching

Crocheting

Gymnastics

Screaming Into the Night Sky At God

Metal detecting

Masturbating

Driving Off A Bridge

Sleeping

Thinking about Masturbating

Revisiting Classics To See If They Hold Up

Origami

Drinking

Masturbating

Billiards

Chess

Sleeping

Geocaching

Bread making

Launching rockets

Calligraphy

Archery

Jewelry making

Smoking

Video games

Needlepoint

Water skiing

Animal breeding

Stealing

Podcasting

Fantasy sports

Learning Spanish

Wine tasting

Backpacking

Getting Way Too Into Sports

Alchemy

Karaoke

Stealing

Traveling

Turning Straight Women Gay

Taxidermy

Masturbating

Horseback riding

Fishing

Being a DJ

Quilting

Juggling

Record collecting

Baking

Glassblowing

Drones

Stealing Infant Teeth

Crossfit

Improvisation

Attuning Myself To Crystals For the Purposes of Psychic Attacks

Drinking

Playing a musical instrument

Stand-up comedy

Throwing Myself Into A Volcano

Skiing

Remote cars

Bonsai

Furniture restoration

Quitting While I'm Ahead

Drinking

Writing

Smoking

Meterology

Local historical society

Disappearing In A Mysterious Accident

Assassination

Painting

Handball

Masturbating

Cheese-making

Martial arts

Astronomy

App making

Table tennis

Web design

Letting All The Demons Out of Hell

Farming

Hiking

Home improvement projects

Swimming

Skydiving

Volunteering

Animal grooming

Forbidden Alchemy

Remote airplanes

Gardening

Burying A Bunch Of Eggs

Becoming The Worlds Preeminent White Maoist

Digging A Hole To The Center of the Earth

Trivia

Journaling

Video production

Masturbating

Drinking

Crossword puzzles

Vehicle restoration

Candle-making

Drinking

Reading

Art collecting

Drawing

Makeup

Smoking

Running

Dancing On the Graves of My Enemies

Sleeping

Kayaking

Poetry

Knitting

Sleeping

Designing clothing

Sailing

Acting

Rock climbing

Disc golfing

Scrapbooking

Winemaking

Wood burning

Running Away

Museum visiting

Pottery

Escape rooms

Soap making

LARPing

Freestyling

Flying

Smoking

Snowboarding

Board games

Just Eating A Bunch of Candy

Surfing

Masturbating

Mixology

Smoking

Card games

Kite surfing

Masturbating

Composting

Dancing

Creating The Perfect French Fry

Powerlifting

Model trains

The Rites And Rituals Forbidden To Me

Movie reviews

Frisbee Wizardry

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dramaticallytotal · 2 months ago

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TDWT Headcanons Pt. 1

Just some headcanons for World Tour!

• Lindsay can sew very well. She taught herself after some wardrobe malfunctions. She can hand sew and machine! She is learning how to crochet and knit as well. So she was excited to practice during the boat weaving challenge.

• The network Chris works for is called Drama Productions.

• When Noah becomes his assistant, Chris gets him a custom red sweater vest to wear instead of the red or blue button ups the rest of the crew wear. It's still the same red, except it now has an anagramed DP on the left breast. This leads to the nickname Danny Phantom.

• As seen in one of my previous posts: Trent and Eva also get into World Tour. Eva because Noah pretended to be asleep and clung to her so he wouldn't be alone with Owen and Izzy for the competition even if he loves them. And Trent because he accidentally got knocked out. (Flimsy, I know, but he's such a good guy that the only way he wouldn't have left the bus would be because he's incapacitated.

• A lot of contestants made deals with Chris and the producers for more money. I.e., Lindsay forgetting Tyler's name, Ezekiel going feral, Duncan and Courtney's breakup but they refuse to make it a cheating plot. Gwen and Duncan are just best friends in this one. Also, Alejandro and Heather have deals to try and have a showmance if they can work it. Oh, and DJ's animal curse.

• That is kind of blown out of the water when Alejandro meets Noah. He falls fast and hard. He still tries to do the showmance with Heather because, hey, money is money. But he also is always helplessly flirting with Noah.

• Once Noah is on the show, the producers quickly realize that, basically, nothing gets done, and everything seems to be falling apart without this 17 year old. Which is sad. That's what they end up arguing with Chris about in China and such because Noah won the aftermath challenge to get back in the competition.

• He wasn't originally going to do so, but he did it out of pure spite for the producers.

• Chris and Chef do pseudo adopt Noah, and they are doing their best not to show him any favoritism. But if they sneak him some snacks and books here and there, who's gonna know?

• None of the animals will attack Alejandro because of his animal thing, Noah, because he trained and wrangled them all before, and Izzy but that's because she either can communicate with them or because they are scared of her.

• Trent and Gwen still have feelings for each other but don't know how to tell each other, so it leads to a lot of tension.

• Ezekiel, Harold, Alejandro, Noah, and Izzy are all polygots. Ezekiel, Noah, and Izzy all tie for the most with 8 languages under their belts.

• Eva, Courtney, and Heather are all bilingual.

• Cody, Sierra, Alejandro, Owen, Trent, and Bridgette all have big sweet tooths! But Trent and Alejandro try to hide it.

• The plane is actually two-leveled with a hidden top level where the crew and staff stay. Chris and Chef also have rooms up there, but for appearances sake they stay in the ones on the bottom floor. (Chris may have made up a room for Noah)

• Noah talked Chris out of the grand piano and jacuzzi before the plane was rented. Also, yeah, the plane is just made to look like it's falling apart. The holes that randomly appear in the show are just stunts made purely for the sick producers who believe the plane is an old rust bucket.

• The intern deaths are also stunts.

• Everyone is scared of Sierra but do their best to protect Cody from here. And when she gets in a mood when she remembers the "Noco" moment from season one, then everyone protects or hides Noah.

• I don't know if I'm going to give her a redemption this season or for All Stars, but basically she doesn't get voted out for so long because the producers are making Chris keep her on the show because she is good drama for the ratings.

• Team Chris + Eva all take turns sleeping with Noah due to his sleep cuddling with the exception of Tyler and Alejandro until it accidentally happens, and both just accept it. It ends up becoming a whole plane thing. With the exceptions being Cody and Sierra since she will not let that happen again. Even Heather let's it happen, but only because it helps keep them both warm, not because she's secretly fond of the dweeb or anything.

• Leshawna and Heather are pretty good friends this season, but Alejandro does mess with this friendship. It's only after the show that the two girls rekindle.

Part two

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jasmineandcedar · 1 month ago

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Death glares at family dinners | Pathetically obsessed 3

An Elriel rom-com one shot (Azriel’s POV)

Before I joined the fandom, I always headcanoned Elain to be a bit of an embroiderer, crocheter, or knitter (and Azriel being the lucky recipient of her creations...). Since joining the fandom, I've seen a lot of other readers have headcanoned the same thing, like @nikachansstuff and @ramoneida’s headcanons here, or @bloomingdarkgarden's headcanon here, for example. So, this very chaotic one shot is in honour of and inspired by our collectively headcanoned Elain – the crafter, and Azriel– the lucky recipient.

Summary: In ACOWAR, SJM describes Azriel’s “lethal gaze” as he arrives at the Illyrian war camp. What happens if that death glare is locked onto a target for insulting Elain's knitting? On top of that, what happens when a slightly unhinged Azriel in spymaster mode is falling in love but can't quite identify what he is feeling? It would seem Elain might have him wrapped around her finger... (or in a figurative chokehold).

Warning: sexual content (fantasies)

-------

Whoever thought looks could kill had clearly never been on the receiving end of Azriel’s death glare. The word “kill” didn't quite encompass the full, devastating effect of that lethal gaze. When Azriel locked eyes with his target, it was like anti-matter colliding with matter.

Poof!

Gone.

Utter annihilation.

Such was the dire fate of any poor soul who dared provoke the wrath of Azriel’s death glare, perfected and honed over centuries of silent brooding. That infamous gaze had been weaponized on battlefields, at high-level meetings with High Lords and other pretentious pricks, and in holding cells in the darkest corners of Hewn City.

Currently, it was locked and loaded at a family dinner.

“Isn’t he adorable?” Elain cooed, her voice as bright as the first rays of sunlight on a spring morning.

Azriel’s notorious death glare was locked onto Cassian, who, Azriel noted with some irritation, seemed to have built up a level of immunity over the centuries.

Cassian was biting his bottom lip so hard it was a wonder he hadn’t drawn blood. His chest shook with the force of stifled laughter before he collected himself enough to let out a shaky exhale. He took a deep breath, evidently summoning every ounce of willpower his warrior training had instilled in him, and had just opened his mouth to speak when a laugh threatened to burst out of him with such vigour, he was forced to fervently bite down on his lip again.

Azriel sat across from Cassian at the dinner table in the river house, his expression as though carved from stone, save for that lethal gleam in his gaze. Next to him sat Elain, glowing with pride. The source of her pride was perched atop Azriel’s head: a fluffy, hand-knitted hat in pastel pink, complete with floppy puppy ears and two fluffy strings tied in a neat bow under Azriel��s very clenched jaw.

Elain had presented the knitting project to the dinner table with glowing delight and Azriel had watched the inner circle squirm in their seats at the prospect of one of them having to don the creation. But Elain had simply turned in her seat and directed that glowing delight towards Azriel, who thanked the Mother he was already seated because otherwise his knees would have buckled.

“Pastel pink contrasts beautifully with his dark hair,” Elain had declared with absolute certainty, making Azriel the lucky recipient of her handiwork.

The hat was a valiant attempt, if one were feeling generous. If one were more inclined towards honesty, the quality of the hat was, truthfully, debatable.

If one had a proclivity for bluntness, it looked god-awful.

One floppy puppy ear hung slightly lower than the other, the stitches were uneven, and the strings were of different length. Particularly the last of those flaws caused an uncomfortable itch in Azriel’s need for order, and he had to blink hard to ignore it. Which he did. Because to Azriel, that hat was nothing short of a masterpiece. It was as precious to him as the still-unused headache powder she had once given him, sitting untouched on his nightstand.

It was a token of something far rarer than practicality or aesthetic beauty.

Azriel had nearly melted into a puddle when Elain's nimble fingers had brushed the sensitive skin of his neck, tying the fluffy creation in place with painstaking care. The preternatural stillness with which he usually held himself had crumbled into disarray immediately, his wings twitching ever so slightly as he shifted under her delicate ministrations. There was nothing accidental about his fidgeting. As with all things he did, it was intentional–just to have her linger, her fingers deftly working the strings into a perfect, unnecessarily neat bow.

She had said nothing, of course–Elain was all too kind for that–but the faint, knowing curve of her lips hadn’t escaped his notice. Neither had the way he shamefully bit his bottom lip in response escaped hers. The glint in her eyes of molten chocolate was all the evidence his observant eye needed of that. That glimmer of mischief and quiet challenge in her eye was enough to make his stomach twist into knots, much like the strings she took a damn long time tying under his jaw. Azriel might have fidgeted again, like a wayward boy caught stealing moments he had no right to claim.

He claimed them, nonetheless.

These moments of quiet, unspoken daring between them had become more frequent, each one a thread tugged loose from the fraying edges of his restraint. That restraint he had once considered as unyielding as steel but which now felt as fragile as cotton–unravelling with every stolen glance and lingering touch. Not even centuries of self-loathing could stop him from seeking out that gleam of silent daring in her eye.

Elain Archeron had Azriel well and truly wrapped around her finger. And now, she had wrapped that light pink, hand-knitted and very, very fluffy creation of hers around his head and Azriel was yanked back to reality.

He felt his cheeks flush under the weight of the Inner Circle's attention.

One didn’t need to be Spymaster of the Night Court to pick up on the fact that the entire table was teetering on the verge of laughter. But Azriel just clenched his jaw even tighter, a feat one might have thought not physically possible, and focused on maintaining his death glare on Cassian–or anyone else foolish enough to comment on the hat’s questionable aesthetics.

Azriel didn’t give a damn about being the cause of their amusement, because Elain was beaming up at him as if he were wearing a crown rather than a misshapen, fluffy, pastel pink hat with puppy ears.

To Azriel, he might as well have been wearing a crown.

“The hat is lovely, Elain,” said Mor with a smile, rocking Nyx in her lap.

Clever, Azriel admitted. With a single comment, Mor had subtly shifted the focus to the knitwear itself, from the undoubtedly peculiar image of Azriel donning fluffy knitwear that wasn’t even black. It was a degree of finesse that Cassian had clearly not mastered.

Cassian, who appeared only moments away from self-destruction, opened his mouth again, visibly shaking. “He… looks…” he managed, his voice trembling with the effort of holding back his laughter.

Don't push it, Azriel’s death glare warned menacingly, zeroing in on Cassian like the finely tuned weapon it was. It was a look that could put any Illyrian warrior in their place, freeze enemies in their tracks, and–if Cassian had any shred of self-preservation left–stop him from finishing that sentence.

That death glare was a vow.

A silent warning to the entire room, that Azriel would sooner unleash his annihilating death glare at a family dinner than allow a single soul to so much as snicker at the fluffy handiwork of sunshine incarnate sitting at his side.

His shadows gathered in the corners of the room, ready to strike. Azriel threw a quick glance at Elain. That should impress her, he thought, very pleased with his display.

Should he flex his wings too, just to really hammer the point home?

He tested the idea briefly, giving his wings a slight twitch. Just enough to catch the light in a way that highlighted their span.

Yes. That was subtle enough.

He was just about to throw another quick glance at Elain to reap the reward of his subtle peacocking, when a strangled sound erupted from Cassian and yanked Azriel out of his strategizing.

Cassian looked like he was attempting to swallow a burst of laughter and speak at the same time. Why he had taken it upon himself to act as spokesperson for the group was a mystery. His skills lay firmly in his fists and evidently not in his rhetorical prowess.

“… adorable!” Cassian squeaked at last, his voice a full two octaves higher than usual. His face had turned an alarming shade of red from the effort of holding back his laughter.

“I know, right!” Elain exclaimed proudly, giving Azriel a beaming smile.

Azriel froze.

Just like that, his death glare disintegrated with the speed of his wildly fluttering heart. That beaming smile–bright enough to rival the sun itself–left him defenseless and dazed.

Adorable.

Elain Archeron found him adorable.

He was suddenly overcome by the urge to throw her over his shoulder, bend her over in the nearest vacant room, and thoroughly demonstrate just how adorable he could be with his clothes off. Elain might have a rather unconventional definition of adorable, but who was Azriel to argue? Especially when her definition seemed to describe him.

He could be adorable. He suppressed a smirk as a dangerous heat flared low in his gut.

If Elain wanted adorable, he would provide.

Resisting the urge to adorably throw Elain over his shoulder and make good on the mischief sparkling in her eyes, Azriel forced himself to refocus. He turned to sinisterly survey the room for potential targets of his death glare, like a predator selecting its prey.

Next to Cassian, Nesta was stone-faced, her hands folded neatly in her lap. A calm mask of composure, save for the rhythmic rise and fall of her shoulders. Ah, breathing techniques, Azriel thought. A clean and efficient way to hold back laughter. Nicely done. Strategic. Azriel was certainly one to appreciate a methodological approach. He had come to expect nothing less from Lady Death. She even had a fine death glare of her own, and a menacing index finger to match it. Respectable.

Amren, meanwhile, was giving the hat her signature death glare, as if it had personally offended her. Since resting death glare was her default expression, Azriel let it slide–for now. No need to be hasty. Family dinners weren’t the time for rash decisions. There was no immediate need to annihilate Amren over his fluffy pink hat.

For now.

“Feyre helped pick out the colour,” said Elain modestly, a faint blush spreading across her lovely cheeks. Azriel suddenly found himself gripped by the entirely inappropriate urge to put his mouth to that delectable blush.

These urges were becoming a problem.

As a shadowsinger known for his legendary restraint, Azriel was alarmingly unfamiliar with the sensation of not thinking clearly. He simply didn’t know how to handle it. Except, when it came to Elain, it wasn’t so much a lack of clarity as it was an overwhelming sharpness of focus. Because that rosy blush had him thinking all kinds of things very clearly–just not the kind of vivid thoughts one should be having at family dinners.

Elain Archeron, wearing nothing but that blush while Azriel poun–

“What do you think, Rhys?

Elain’s question shattered Azriel’s increasingly pleasant thoughts like a hammer hitting glass. He was once again dragged–unwillingly–back to the present. He blinked dazedly, feeling heat rise to his own cheeks, his pants starting to strain uncomfortably. He shifted slightly in his seat, thankful for the concealment of his shadows.

Perhaps he should feel guilty. His fantasies weren’t exactly… proper. And if there was one thing his mother had taught him, it was to act proper around the females in his life. But any feelings of guilt eluded him when Elain kept throwing him those wicked sidelong glances when no one saw them. The kind of ravenous glances that made him wonder if she could read his thoughts the way it always seemed she could. If she, perhaps, knew exactly how wild they were.

And then there was the way her fingers lingered a little longer than necessary whenever they found an excuse to touch. How she seemed to revel in his helpless reactions to those brief, fleeting touches that seemed perfectly innocent to everyone else but sent sparks skittering through his body.

Yes, Azriel was growing increasingly certain Elain wouldn’t mind his wicked fantasies at all.

In fact, he had a growing suspicion hers might be equally wicked.

He was hoping they were even wilder than his.

Tucking those wicked fantasies away for later, Azriel shifted his death glare to Rhys.

The High Lord was undeniably more composed than Cassian, but only marginally. Rhys’ eyes sparkled with suppressed amusement. After five centuries together, the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corners of Rhys’ mouth was enough for Azriel to tell that he was bursting with witty remarks. Likely something about how perfectly pastel pink contrasted with Azriel’s well-maintained dark and broody aesthetic, or how the colour of the hat was about as aggressively cheerful as Azriel’s jaw was aggressively clenched.

Thankfully, Azriel knew Rhys had a soft spot for Elain that wouldn’t allow him to ever insult her.

Poking fun at Azriel, on the other hand…

Narrowing his eyes, he threw a swift glance towards Feyre, noting how she was staring intently at the ceiling and pressing her lips together so tightly they had turned pale. Her formidable determination to avoid looking at Azriel directly was a dead giveaway.

The pair of them were definitely laughing at him through their bond.

Azriel could live with that. What he couldn’t live with was even the faintest shadow of disappointment dimming the light in Elain’s beautiful eyes. He threw her another quick glance. She was still beaming up at him.

Noted.

No need for immediate action.

Yet.

Still, his death glare remained locked and loaded, ready to be unleashed should anyone push their luck.

Rhys looked worryingly tempted to do just that, biting his lips as if itching to make a mockery of Azriel’s peculiar predicament.

Azriel sighed up at the ceiling, as if pleading to the Mother herself to just give him a break. He tried to rub his temples, but his fingers tangled in the uneven stitches of the fluffy creation on his head.

“He looks…” Rhys began, his gleaming eyes locked on Azriel's and his voice trailing off with a deliberate and dramatic pause.

Azriel’s death glare swung back towards him, sharp as a blade.

Don't push it.

“… positively murderous,” Amren’s voice cut through the air like a dagger before Rhys could deliver his undoubtedly witty remark.

“What?” Elain asked, her alarmed gaze flickering to Azriel.

“Marvellous!” Feyre interjected hastily, her words tumbling out in a tone just a tad too enthusiastic.

“Vicious, more like it,” Amren murmured, the faintest smirk curving her lips.

Don't. Push. It.

“Sorry?” Elain asked, her brows raising as she glanced between Azriel and Amren, locked in a battle of death glares.

“Precious, Elain dear,” Rhys cut in smoothly, shooting his own death glare at Amren. “She said precious!”

“Or homicidal, take your pick,” Amren muttered under her breath, leaning back in her chair and looking thoroughly pleased with the simmering drama she had so effortlessly stirred up.

SWIFT AND CERTAIN RETRIBUTION.

That is what Azriel’s death glare promised Amren as he levelled its full, annihilating force at her.

Or so he intended.

Except, nothing happened.

Not so much as a flicker of discomfort crossed Amren’s smug face. If anything, that satisfied smirk grew wider, practically daring him to try harder.

It seemed all his time spent with sunshine incarnate had Azriel's annihilating death glare malfunctioning. Or perhaps it had lost some of its edge. That thought was mildly concerning, but less concerning than the alternative: that Amren was made of anti-matter too. Azriel hadn't considered that. A tactical oversight, he admitted internally. He was getting lax.

He'd need to get on top of that.

He glanced over at Elain again, who was luckily too busy admiring her handiwork to notice Amren’s snide remark. Azriel’s worry faded instantly. Her gaze locked on his, her face lit with quiet pride, eyes sparkling as though she had found a way to knit joy itself. Feeling a sense of peace wash over him, Azriel allowed himself a moment to simply watch her.

He’d like to get on top of her, too–

“He is precious, isn’t he,” Elain said, her voice soft and dreamy.

Her eyes, hazy and warm with affection, made the rest of the room disappear from Azriel’s consciousness. Everything–the relentless banter, his looming headache–faded into irrelevance. His heart thumped unsteadily, his chest tightening with an unbearable ache.

Precious.

Elain found him precious.

Azriel simply stared at her, feeling his resolve unravel even further. Precious wasn’t a word anyone had ever used to describe him. Efficient, yes. Useful, dark, ruthless–death and terror–those were recurring. But precious?

For Elain, he could be precious.

For Elain, he would be anything she wanted.

Being wrapped around her finger didn’t really capture how well and truly done for he was. No, sweet Elain had him in a damn chokehold. And, although Azriel would never admit this aloud as long as he drew breath, he liked it. Thoroughly. From the blushing of his cheeks and the fluttering of his heart to the straining of his pants.

But why was she looking at him like that at the dinner table? That soft, affectionate gleam in her eyes, the faint blush still dusting her cheeks–it was simply too much. Azriel’s restraint was already fraying, the threads coming undone with every passing second.

Azriel felt the instincts of the spymaster within him take over. With expertise, he swiftly scanned his surroundings. Four walls. Solid. Sturdy. He nodded to himself, pleased with his finds.

Each wall a prime candidate for pinning her against, should the opportunity present itself.

He would unravel the threads of fate itself to have that opportunity present itself.

He’d let her choose which wall she preferred, of course. Ever the gentleman. He’d even take her wearing nothing but the hat if she liked that. Who was he to deny her preferences? Between his daggers and his shadows, he had some unconventional ones of his own.

“You’re scaring the children, shadowsinger,” Amren drawled, that dagger of a voice cutting through the increasingly improper fantasies Azriel had been spiralling into.

Nyx was staring at Azriel with an impressive death glare for someone so tiny. The babe had certainly captured the essence of menace.

Azriel’s chest swelled with pride. Internally, of course. Now was hardly the time to break character. Persistence was key to a well-crafted death glare. Azriel would lead by example. Teach them young, as they say. By the already determined clenching of his little jaw, Nyx was clearly a natural.

“Nonsense!” said Elain brightly, undeterred. Se leaned forward slightly, her curls of golden brown catching in the light as she beamed at her nephew. “Right, Nyxie?”

The instant Nyx heard her voice, his scowling little face transformed, his death glare melting into a brilliant little grin. Azriel couldn’t help but think that, despite being Rhys’ son, Nyx was shaping up to be a fine specimen. There was always the risk of Rhy’s loud and extravagant tendencies rubbing off on him, but he had potential to embrace the broody lifestyle.

“I’m making one for Nyx too,” Elain added cheerfully.

Nyx’s death glare returned in an instance. Azriel suppressed a chuckle. Give him another two centuries of silent brooding and he would get the hang of it. Fine-tuned intensity, sharper aim, better target selection. Azriel would personally see to it that Nyx mastered the subtle art of brooding and annihilation by death glare.

“How does it feel, Az?” Cassian asked, nodding towards the hat with a wide grin.

Azriel turned his head in a carefully practiced move, slowly and menacingly, before he spoke, in an equally well-practiced, low voice.

“Feels like there’s only one of these and it’s mine,” he said lethally. His eyes narrowed and his shadows swirled around them as he once again levelled his devastating death glare at Cassian.

Infuriatingly, Cassian simply bit his lower lip again, unable to hide his amusement.

Feeling slightly sorry for himself, Azriel’s eyes fell once more on the peace and quiet sitting next to him. His heart gave another traitorous flutter as his shadows receded, dissipating as though bowing to her light.

He froze, throat bobbing.

He was well and truly done for. This was not just some measly chokehold. This was annihilation on an entirely different level.

Elain’s radiant beam of death was aimed squarely at him.

How was he supposed to keep his composure when she looked at him like that? That softness in her eyes, the gentle curve of her lip–it was a weapon. And she wielded it with a precision that made the Spymaster of the Night Court want to fall to his knees. Because how could he be expected to not rip off his clothes, drop to the floor, and worship every inch of her right here at the dinner table when she looked at him like that?

She truly had a knack for torture, this one. Sweet, devastating torture.

Azriel couldn’t help but smirk at that. Of course, he knew a thing or two about the sweet kind of torture, as well. Something stirred inside him indecently, as Elain bit back her own smirk, turning away from him to once again face the rest of the room, leaving him desperate for more.

Naughty little thing.

Azriel’s hands flexed at his sides. A broody Spymaster with a yearning heart could only endure so much, and Elain Archeron was nudging him towards the edges of his restraint. Sweetly and deliberately, with seductive smirks and lingering touches, all the while gazing innocently at him.

Azriel nearly whimpered.

“So, you like the colour, Az?” Rhys asked casually, but that familiar glint in his eyes betrayed his mischievous intent. Azriel was yanked–once again–from his increasingly wanton fantasies.

“It contrasts beautifully with my dark hair,” he replied venomously, somehow making it sound like a threat.

Elain nodded vigorously, with a smile so radiant it lit up even Azriel’s shadows, still gathering in the corners of the room. Azriel’s chest swelled with pride anew, the ridiculousness of the situation evaporating by the sheer force of her approval.

“It what?” Nesta blurted out, her concentration on her breathing exercises shattering at last. Her voice broke slightly, and Azriel caught the tiniest flicker of mirth in her steely eyes.

Across the table, Feyre was battling what looked to be a losing war. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together even harder, exhaling shakily through her nose.

“It contrasts beautifully with his dark hair,” Elain repeated, with that sweet, unassuming, and utterly lethal smile on her face, as precious as a perfectly aimed dagger straight to Azriel’s heart.

Before he could gather what little was left of his legendary composure, Elain reached out a delicate hand and gently swept a dark strand from his forehead. The casual ease with which she touched him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, caused a rush of heat to cascade through his body and across his cheeks.

“I’m knitting a matching sweater to go with it,” Elain said, gazing deep into his eyes. It sounded like a declaration of love to Azriel. He almost fell to his knees and declared his undying love and devotion for her right there at the dinner table. He shut the urge down with all the strength he could muster, opting instead to mentally draft elaborate plans on how to secretly propose to sunshine incarnate.

“I think it will really bring out the warmth in his skin tone,” Elain continued with a soft sigh so enchanting it might as well have been a spell.

Azriel swallowed hard.

And then Elain leaned in closer. Azriel nearly groaned as her sweet scent enveloped him. Her wide, chestnut eyes locked onto his, that death beam striking with pinpoint accuracy, obliterating the last remnants of his restraint. It was devastating. Flawless. Expertly executed. The kind of precision that would have any spymaster on their knees.

And Azriel was completely and utterly in love.

“Don’t you think so?” she asked, her voice so soft it felt like a caress to Azriel’s ear drums.

Azriel opened his mouth, intending to respond, but all that came out was a sound that most closely resembled a gurgle.

“Exactly,” Elain said with emphasis, as if Azriel’s gurgle had been even remotely intelligible. “I knew you’d understand.”

Azriel blinked.

His knees felt weak.

Was this what annihilation felt like? Did it start by disarming the target through immobilization of the knees? It would certainly make sense. He had immobilized many knees over the centuries. Efficient. Clean. Only now all his bones seemed to have left his body. Was this stage two of annihilation? Dissolution of the bones? A gradual disintegration of the skeletal structure? It seemed a bit macabre and excessive, even for his tastes, but it would certainly get the job done.

Elain’s warm eyes softened even further, becoming almost glazed, as if lost in a vision.

“The light pink will really emphasize the way the gold flecks in his eyes glow in the afternoon sun,” she continued dreamily, “right before twilight when the sky is painted orange and pink, and he is silently brooding in his favourite chair by the fire, next to that window in the sitting room in House of Wind…”

Azriel stilled.

His beloved brooding chair.

Elain had noticed his favourite brooding spot.

He could certainly brood. For Elain, he would brood harder than ever before. He would furrow his brows and clench his jaw tighter than the laws of nature allowed.

Azriel blinked hard again, willing his bones to return to their rightful places. He’d need them intact if he were to survive this dinner.

Except, now Azriel’s head spun so wildly he thought he might lift off the ground. Was this the next stage of annihilation? Dissolution of all coherent thought? A gradual disintegration of the intellect? It seemed plausible, given how his usually sharp mind suddenly was reduced to a swirling, incoherent mess. And why was it suddenly so hard to breathe? Was this part of the process?

Those couldn’t be wingbeats in his stomach, could they?

“…And the way his tattoos ripple over his muscled form with every movement when he’s training with those beautiful daggers, and the sun hits those magnificent wings just right, highlighting the reds and golds…” Elain’s voice was growing softer, more breathy. Her beautiful eyes were dazed, glazed over.

Azriel’s breath hitched in his chest.

His daggers.

Elain liked his precious daggers.

And Azriel was about to have a raging hard-on at a family dinner, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“…And when he looks at you with those hazel eyes,” Elain’s voice was turning downright husky now, “with that quiet, smouldering intensity, like he’s seeing straight into your soul…” Her words faltered, her eyes going half-lidded, as if she were the one being annihilated now.

“… I think a fluffy pink sweater would just really…” Elain’s voice trailed off into something most closely resembling a gurgle.

Across the table, Cassian dropped his fork with a loud clatter. Nesta crossed her arms over her chest, smirking knowingly. Feyre and Mor clutched their hearts in unison. Rhys clutched his pearls.

Amren yawned.

But Azriel noticed none of it. His pulse thundered wildly, the rhythm frantic and entirely out of sync. He suddenly seemed to lack the coordination to inhale and exhale properly. Annihilation really was no joke, he thought, as he neared the point of hyperventilation. But wasn’t this a bit overkill? A swift zap to the brain would have sufficed.

And why did his face tilt to the side and his lips part in perfect sync with Elain’s? Was this the final stage? Dissolution of all inhibition?

“If you want it, of course,” Elain breathed, her voice suddenly sultry, any trace of innocence gone from her eyes. Her lips hovered mere inches from his, and her large brown eyes gazed into his with an intensity that shattered every last shred of coherence in his brain.

And that smirk. That barely-there curve of her lips.

Oh, she thoroughly enjoyed having him in a chokehold, didn’t she?

Naughty little thing.

If this was annihilation, Azriel decided, he didn’t stand a chance. Annihilation simply felt too good to resist.

So, the Spymaster of the Night Court simply surrendered.

“Please,” was all Azriel managed to breathe back, his voice a husky whisper, before his eyes fluttered shut.

And just as the space between them was about to vanish, when her warm breath mingled with his and he could practically taste her on his lips–

“Get a room,” Amren snickered from across the table.

Azriel’s eyes snapped open, his death glare shooting straight to Amren.

Don't push it.

-------

This is part three of pathetically obsessed.

They are standalone (one shots), but they are written in the same style (romantic comedy) and on the same theme (Azriel being nothing short of obsessed...)

Part 1: He had seen the light (where Azriel obsessively fantasises about Elain during an intel meeting with Rhys)

Part 2: An out-of-body experience (where Azriel finds himself with Elain straddling him)

Part 3: Death glares at family dinners (where Azriel death glares at anyone insulting Elain’s knitting)

#elriel

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lazycats-stuff · 2 years ago

Text

Batfamily

Batfamily & male!reader, part 2, part 3, part 4 - platonic

talia and bruce having a older son who “went missing ” but actually joined the court of owls . he’s become friends with a bunch of rouges and two face is like a dad to him. he lives with harley and ivy and sometimes selina and they just chaos. but he runs into batfam and damian just wants to kidnap him so he can have his brother back - REQUEST

Batfamily & male!reader, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4 - platonic

can i request a scenario where the reader, who has been trained as a weapon for most of their life, struggles with expressing their emotions. The reader has been adopted by the Batfamily and is injured during a mission. They try to hide their injuries, but Dick or Jason (or both) find out and scold the reader for keeping it a secret. The reader responds by saying that they didn't think it was a big deal. it was a big deal. So it’s fluff and angst. The scenario can end with the Batfamily having a movie night after patching the reader up to help them feel better. If the scenario crosses any boundaries, please feel free to change anything necessary.

Batfamily & male!reader, GENDER NEUTRAL VERSION - platonic

Hi! If this makes you uncomfortable writing, you can choose to ignore it. I was hoping you could do male!reader, who was on patrol and the reader is kidnapped by a villain, and once the batfamily find them its to late and they were brainwashed and was now under control of a villain. (Bonus points if the villain, is actually their biological father who trained them to be a weapon before the reader got saved by the batfamily) Once they like have a fight and the batfam knock ‘em out they bring him to the cave and try to bring his memories back. It takes a while to get his memory back since the reader is not trusting them and doesn’t talk to them because they were brainwashed to think the batfamily is bad but after a while something happens and their mind snaps and they’re back to normal and they get all emotional because they hurt their true family??