#this is funny you just need an open mind

[hollowaluminumvessel]

yes boy praise your husband!!!!!

[bumblingbabooshka]

No bc why the hell was Tuvok SO ride or die for this random lady who was gonna lobotomize B'Elanna he SUCKS I love him so much Tuvok focus UP!!!! What are you DOING!!!!! What's your ISSUE!!! HEHEHE Nimira: Prisons are so barbaric. As a perfectly civilized alternative, we've banned negative thoughts as enforced by the lobotomy machine. Tuvok: Honestly? I love what you're doing here. [B'Elanna's kicking and screaming in the background as Janeway tries frantically to get his attention] I think this is a very positive start to something beautiful.

[hampterguts]

forever amazed and confused at how often transformers franchise just straight up depicts suicide attempts. like not even considering the superhero trope of "i have to save everyone!!! by choosing to die!!!!!" thing. like. non-allow-yourself-to-die-to-stop-a-thing-from-killing-everyone-immediately type situations. which tbh i wish more ppl talked about but not the point here

like. sure mtmte, a comic abt mentall illness and war, i expected it to be aware of the concept. but its not handled well and mostly used for shock value or "im better now i swear! i have a husband and everything" BUT ITS IN THE KIDS SHOWS TOO??? MY BESTIE G1 RODIMUS?? BEAST WARS DINOBOT???

[ratatatastic]

lmaoooo maffhew wanting the knot immediately and having to wait for sasha to catch up with that is so deeply funny like. this omega is not subtle and you’re not a stupid alpha babe! can only imagine what benny has to say to maffhew about it once he catches on and stops banging his head against a wall

idiots to lovers is always great but especially when its two people who would be hitched with 10 kids by now if they stopped being dumb for a single second like its that easy and yet...

to me they very much fall around the same time (infatuation at first scent if you will) just that sasha takes some time to get there not because he's dumb (okay he's a little dumb) but in the sense that its like "this person is very interested in me, i can see and recognise that but theres so much cognitive dissonance in my brain right now between knowing that intrinsically and finding that hard to believe so i unintentionally play dumb because obviously i'm reading too much into things it cant be me they're interested in haha that'd crazy but they're being awfully touchy and flirty with me wow"

but also it takes two to tango and we have to acknowledge that and this is when i would love to bring up the ways in which this man decides is the best way to go about that because he is a catholic school girlie... there's so much hilarity to be had here especially because his flirting is very uh how you say... a little ass backwards if you will especially considering dynamics

"I make it a point to keep the door closed when we're alone in a room together! That's basically a clear invitation that I'm down to fuck!!! Im basically asking to be ragdolled on his knot!!!"

and Benny just pinches the bridge of his nose like "I don't know how to explain to you in a way you'll understand that not everyone went to Catholic school."

But saying that Sasha does side-eye the door knob heavily when Maffhew goes over to close it the first time and he starts sweating like he just got dragged into a game of 7 Minutes in Heaven he did not sign up for and he's 13 again and oh god he got paired with a really cute girl, and he hasn't even had his first real kiss yet and-

And then absolutely nothing happens because Maffhew is just waiting with a polite expectant smile (because his work here is done, he did the heavy lifting know it's Sasha's turn) and this is when Sasha's dynamic classes training kicks in and he basically scolds himself for even assuming in the first place because this is clearly a show of trust (correct) not an invitation for extra circular activities (incorrect buzzer noise) and it basically becomes "This Omega really trusts me, I'm honoured especially as Pack Leader that I'm able to be so accepted into such a private space with the inherent knowledge that I will not encroach their boundaries whatsoever because consent is verbal, this is not in any way an invitation to take advantage of them this is deep platonic trust I will guard with my life :]"

and if you listen closely you can hear the lovely sounds of Maffhew bashing his head into a wall about how much of a gentleman Sasha is but also COME ONNNNNN... you know... once Maffhew realises what's happening which (looks at my watch) is not due for another few months really

Battle of wills: unstoppable force (maffhews catholic school understanding of dynamic interactions) vs immovable object (overseas alpha cotillion classes)

And if you think it's an Oh! An overseas dynamic thing! It's not. The Euros are watching the horrible car crash in front of them and doing absolutely nothing about it because it's none of their business, but they will stare at it... maybe judge it a bit but definitely are observing from the tall grass.

and I'm also not saying that luosty lundy forsy and bobby have a current running bet of how long it'll take for maffhew to break sasha in but i'm also not not saying that... luosty goaded lundy in the midst of a gossip session ("It has to be 3 months, right?) forsy happened to be around so lundy turned to him for advice ("7 months.") and maybeeee bobby overheard from all the way over from his stall and puts in his two cents for what it's worth ("6. Captain nice but not that nice. Very impatient." "So 3!" "No. Impatience makes him double the time, and wait longer. 6 months.") (lundy finally settles on a good 5 months because he's indecisive)

And Sasha does eventually pick up everything maffhew is throwing down... eventually... and when he does it becomes more so I want to court this omega the way they deserve I will take this slow and romance them sweetly :) *smash cut to maffhew caterwauling like a cat in heat*

but also once again its not like maffhew is helping sasha in any way this is idiot4idiot and benny would like to enjoy the car crash with the euros but unfortunately that's his soulmate, thats his bestie, his littermate from birth who has been weaned on the same teat as they climbed over each other to get to it, the first girl you kissed in your childhood bedroom because somehow you started play fighting on the bed because she was like i could totally pin you down easy and then she does and you always noticed how beautiful she was but shes even more gorgeous when she's pinning your wrists to your hannnah montana duvet you promised yourself youd changed out before she came over but you forget and well she teased you about it and you cant help but giggle about how perfect this all is and it seems that the natural conclusion to this is to taste the strawberry lipgloss of her lips because whats a kiss between besties huh its tacky and sticky and it tastes like summer and just other apt metaphors to put here about the inherent -isms of their relationship that i nearly cant put to words properly other than girls having fun (they are fucking)

and well anyways benny is watching and he has a lot of things to say about how its been proceeding so far

"You should really use your words."

"I am!"

"Right because smelling like a fucking perfume shop in the middle of October is using your words."

"This usually works with most Alphas okay!"

"Sasha isn't most Alphas."

"Tell me about it." Matthew grouses before he peeks over to Sam, looking up from beneath his eyelashes—the exact way he knows both endears him to Sam but also absolutely miffs him all the same, "Worked on you, didn't it?"

"Oh, is that what we're doing right now? We're calling getting a lapful of a preening O in preheat in the middle of a roadie a normal way to go about these things."

"It worked didn't it?" Matthew reiterates.

"It would work better if you use—"

"Okay! Alright!! I get it!!!" He does not.

like benny here is unfortunately an active listening participant in the going ons of the fuckery if not because hes involved by proxy because of maffhew because who else will hold his hair back as he calls him a dumb bitch you know

[its-no-biggie]

me finishing a good story: wow i need more of this immediately *opens ao3*

me finishing a GREAT story: wow. *doesnt even think about consuming anything else for the next 3 days*

[triglycercule]

give me more horrorkiller content i say as i proceed to post solely about full mtt/mttpoly. i cant I CANT i cant just SOLELY post about one of the duos...... i cant JUST post about 2/3 of them it upsets me. everything MUST be in a trio of else i merge into my bed and rip my skin off when i try to get up

[transmasc-wizard]

throwing myself at the foot of a therapist's chair saying Please pretty please explain to me what these symptoms are caused by

[thetriangletattoo]

what is it about showers and solving every problem you had during your teenage years

[noodelnoodelapplestrudel]

AHGHHHHH YOU LITERALLY PUT IT INTO WORDS

"How can you forget sticky notes, they're right on your desk! Right in front of you! Are you a toddler with no concept of object permanence?"

No I'm just ADHD and the Brain Noises are at such a constant cacophony it's like there's a 500 player orchestra constantly playing and each instrument is playing a different songs at the same time in my head that I most importantly can't shut off.

Try remembering a sticky note exists when the trumpets are blasting star wars, the violins are playing never gonna give you up, the flutes are playing livin la vida loca and the drums think they're a christmas marching band.

"Surely it's not that much input!"

I am at my desk in my bedroom right now. I hear my parents talking in the other room, my cat snoring behind me, the water was turned on and off in the kitchen, the fan is running, the ac is on, there's shuffling of slippers, I can smell my candle, I heard a car go by, the computer is buzzing and it's fan is running, I can hear the fishtank in the other room because my bedroom door is open. The clicking of the keyboard is satisfying but loud. I look up and see everything on my desk. I taste the hot coco i just ate, I hear the fridge beeping, I heard my stomach make a Noise, my over the ear headphones make a soft shhhh sound wqhen they're not playing music, my tinnitus rings constantly, my neck crackled when I looked to the left.

That input DOESN'T SHUT OFF.

Y'all with executives that can function? They're in a nice quiet boardroom with pretty windows and a quiet meeting.

MY executives are forest critters in ties and glasses meeting in the Denny's parking lot at 4am to go over peanut butter recipes and that song we heard when we were 8 and can't EVER let go. What important stuff happened today? I dunno, the raccoon disguised as the board meeting leader ATE the file.

[thateclecticbitch]

I just got proselytized to by a woman in walmart. She got better though.

[shawtuzi]

this video got me thinking….its kinda giving choso so walk with me real quick besties

˚ʚ♡ɞ

“fuckkkk,” the back of choso’s head knocked against the headboard, his chest heaving with a thin sheen of sweat covering it. the poor boy couldn’t form a single thought—the only thing swirling around in his empty mind is that he needed more.

his breath hitched when he felt your tongue wrap around his nipple once more, flicking the sensitive bud with your tongue. you didn’t bother saying much to him, it’d be pointless being the only word he could respond with was a breathy ‘fuck’.

“i’m ’bout to—hmph! nut again, it’s coming baby,” his head lolled onto his shoulder, his hips now bucking up to create a rhythm with your hand. you hummed around his nipple, squeezing his angry red tip, the clear pearls of precum leaking from his tip had you dying for a taste. “be louder…w’nna hear you cho,” you whispered in his ear, licking at the shell of it.

choso shuddered rather violently at the feeling, but nonetheless he got louder for you—a tad bit louder than you had expected. choso’s mouth dropped opened, a symphony of whiny moans following right after.

if he had any energy he’d fuck your fist himself, but alas after 3 consecutive orgasms all he could do was pathetically roll his hips. “so fuckin’ close, cmon baby make me cum,” choso nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt your soft hands begin to play his balls, squeezing them ever so softly.

choso’s entire body went limp as his orgasm hit, moan after pornographic moan spilling past his kiss bitten lips. the first shot of cum landed on his chest, some getting on his chin, which you greedily licked at a second later. his thighs shook in overstimulation, nearly closing because now it was really starting to become too much.

“baby baby baby wait—hah! you’re gonna f-fuckin’ kill me,” his larger hand wrapped weakly around your wrist, but it stopped nothing. you kissed you way up his chest to his neck, sloppily kissing, licking, and sucking any bit you could get. he just smelled so good—like vanilla and cinnamon, you just wanted to eat him up.

you brushed his hair out his face with your free hand. you looked into his tired, yet oh so lustful eyes, “you good?” you asked, halting your hand’s movements. choso sniffled and gave you a weak nod, “want you to drain me dry angel, even if i start crying.” it’s funny because just as choso finished his sentence a stray tear slipped from his eye, landing on his already messy abdomen.

choso stuck out his tongue making you giggle. you knew exactly what he wanted. you leant over, wasting no time shoving your tongue in his mouth, swallowing up his whiny moans. you resumed your hand’s movements, squealing when you felt choso’s teeth sink into your bottom lip.

he truly didn’t know if he had another orgasm in him but he didn’t care, even if he blacked out. why do you ask?? because soon he’ll be receiving the best aftercare known to man. cuddles, kisses, BACK SCRATCHES!!! he was as content as could be.

[captaindarkiplier]

if i ever need to explain darkipliers strange reputation online to someone who knows nothing, or maybe just vague rumor based on sexyman flanderization and memery, i could say he is like makima's more obscure and more mislabeled male counterpart.

because if you are seen drawing makima the wrong kinds of people will just assume you are a horny individual that likes groomer dominatrix women.

but this comparison isn't perfect because csm is popular and the nature of it being anime gives it more defenders therefore normalizes and broadens the perspectives on it somewhat.

and also because there genuinely IS a majority of horny individuals drawing makima.

but on the other hand, for darkiplier, it'd be assuming that the person likes dark evil emo versions of Real Person, which is almost WORSE to be accused of, you could easily argue.

And to top it all off, the darkiplier fandom is much less horny and actually more analytical and thoughtful than makimas fandom. In my experience

[readwritealldayallnight]

“And you ladies are goin’ to be alright?”

“Oh yeah, cabbie’s on his way for us. You go ahead and get this one home.” Your friends giggle as they take their turns hugging you goodbye, the process taking nearly ten minutes thanks to the never ending drinks you’ve all had tonight.

It was a rare night out for you, celebrating a friends birthday at a bar with your girl gang. With your busy schedules, it was difficult to find time to get together as often, and when you did, your friends went hard. Shot after shot, drink after drink, you’d definitely been beyond tipsy for a while now.

Simon, who had come to pick you up at the end of the night, was thoroughly entertained by the sight of his intoxicated little sweetheart, all giggly and rosy cheeked. Making sure your friends has their own safe way of getting home, he slipped an arm around your waist, wanting to prevent your stumbling legs from landing you face first on the bar floor, and led you towards the exit.

“Oh my gosh.” You giggle, your own arm trying to wind behind his large muscular back. “Simon I’m so happy you’re heeeeeeere! I missed you so much.”

“S’that right?” He humours you, holding the door open with his side as he manages to steer you out of the building and out to the car park. “You an’ the girls have only been out for a few hours, lovie.”

“Well it was a flew, no a few! It was a few hours too long!” You drunkenly mumbled, making Simon’s smile widen, his mind already going over the different painkillers in your bathroom cabinet he could give you in the morning for the hangover you were sure to get. “A few hours too many, away from my Si guy! I don’t like not being with youuuuuu.”

“I know, lovie, I don’t like being apart either. But you’re allowed to have fun with the girls every once in a while.” He attempted to reason with you, fishing a hand into his jacket pocket in search of the keys. “You had fun, right?”

“Yeeesssss… but I like you! So much!”

“I like you too.” He chuckled at you. “If ya had fun s’all that matters. And I’m here now aren’t I? Said I’d come get ya.” He adds, tightening his grip around you in emphasis, not wanting to shake you too much, unsure as to exactly how many drinks you had.

“Oh my gosh that’s so nice to say…” you began drawling on before your feet came to an abrupt halt, nearly causing Simon to stumble forward himself as he stopped alongside you. “Wait…” you mumbled, eyes glancing ahead at the familiar sight of Simon’s truck. “Are you driving me?”

He can’t help but to softly chuckle to himself again, completely endeared by the way drunken you has your face scrunched up in consideration, apparently having forgotten that between the two of you, Simon would in fact be the one behind the wheel.

“I am.” He replies simply, watching you process his words.

“Okay, well, I just need to call Soap first.” You mumble, trying to pull your phone out of your back pocket with great effort.

“What’ya need to call that tosser for?” Simon asked, now the one feeling confused.

“I’ve just never actually written a will, and if you’re driving then I think I should probab- ahh!” You squeal as Simon scoops you up over his shoulder, swatting a large hand against the plump of your behind, covering the short distance to the passenger side.

“Yeah yeah, very funny, cheeky girl.” He says, opening the door and helping you into the seat before buckling you in, a smile on his face the entire time. He comes around to his side and hops in the drivers seat, starting up the engine. As he starts to pull out of the parking and back onto the main road, Simon glances towards your figure huddled up in the passenger seat, already singing along to the first thing that came up on the radio, and wonders to himself just how much you’ll remember in the morning.

The last time he’d drank with you, you were completely out of business the next day, saying that you could hardly remember a thing from the night prior, and even then he wasn’t sure you were as intoxicated as you were currently. Deciding to have a bit of fun and take a chance Simon asks you:

“Hey lovie?”

“Mhm?”

“When I ask ya to marry me, what do ya think you’ll say?”

“Uh, I will say YES! Duh!” You reply, the answer obvious to you no matter what state you’re in. However, because you are in fact drunk, you then add “and then I’m gonna get down on my knees too Si, and I’m gonna give you the best bestest head in the whole world actually is what I will do.”

“Hm, okay.” He answers casually, keeping the urge to laugh contained for a bit longer, wanting to keep teasing you. “And uh, how many kids do you think you’re gonna want us to have?”

“Simon,” you playfully sing song to him, angling yourself to face towards him and reaching a finger out to try and poke his cheek, landing more towards his shoulder. “Do you have feelings for me or something?”

“Or somethin’” he says quickly, “Come on lovie, how many babies am I puttin’ in ya, hm?”

“Mmm, at least two I think. So that at Halloween, Simon oh my gosh, at Halloween! We can do a family costume and all be ghostbuste-”

“We’re not gonna be ghostbust-”

“We will be ghostbusters.” You nod to yourself, glancing away from him as his opinion is no longer valid, before changing your mind and looking at him with all the love you can muster at that moment. “Simon, it sounds like you liiiiiiiike meeeee.” You attempt to tease. “You wanna get married? And have babies?”

“‘Course I do, lovie.”

“You think about that?”

“Every day.”

“Every day?”

“Mhm.” He confirms, sending you his own loving look.

“Well you better get me my ring then mister, cause I like yoooouuu too.” You giggle, before gasping as the song changes and starting to sing along.

He watches you in the passenger seat, a content smile upon his face as he listens to you singing without a care in the world, unaware that Simon has had your ring picked out and purchased since your first kiss. He’s just been waiting for the right time to ask you. And now that you’ve unknowingly given him your own blessing, he’s not so sure he can wait much longer.

[whateveriwant]

Task force 141 reacting to their very pregnant wife still trying to clean, cook etc

This turned more into ‘Task force 141 preventing their very pregnant wife from trying to clean, cook, etc’ lmaooooo I hope that's alright

Price

HA! Good one!

No seriously, it's actually hilarious that you think you'd do anything for yourself when your hubby's around

That man has been waiting on you hand and foot since you first got together. So now that you're pregnant and you think he'd let you so much as lift a finger? You must have a serious case of pregnancy brain, sweetheart

Price is doing all the cooking, the cleaning, the running errands, etc. throughout the entirety of your pregnancy (and at least the first several months postpartum)

He's kept you practically bed bound these last few months to the point where you think there's a perfect indent of your body molded into the mattress

Seven months in, he's suddenly called away to a quick mission halfway across the globe, and you think finally you'll get some of your autonomy back...

Well, think again because who should show up at your door the next morning than your mother-in-law herself, ready to pick up where her son left off

She came at the behest of your husband, of course, and was armed with a detailed set of care instructions

What does your husband think you are? Some sort of one-of-a-kind, priceless artifact that needs special handling? (Actually that's exactly what you are. Price-less… I'll see myself out 🚶🏻‍♀️)

Ghost

When it comes to having some semblance of independence during your pregnancy, Ghost will give you a bit of a longer leash than Price, but only just so

You’re going for a walk around the neighborhood? Hold on, let him grab his coat to join you. Or you're going into the backyard to tend the garden? He'll pull the weeds while you water the plants

But when it comes to letting you do certain things, there are some hard nos that he will absolutely not budge on

You try to use a stepladder to reach the top of the cupboard? Stop! You'll break your neck! You try to pick up anything heavier than 10 pounds? Stop! Give it here! You try to drive?... Don't even fuckin' think about it, precious.

The farther along your pregnancy progresses, the better he gets at predicting (and intercepting) your next move

You were gonna do laundry today? Well, wouldn't you know, he's already got a load going in the washer. You were about to make dinner? Well shucks, he just ordered takeaway from that Greek place you love

His ability to read your mind is honestly impressive once you get past how damn annoying you find it. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you're incapable of fending for yourself, and you're tired of him acting as if otherwise

But really, you can never get mad at anything he does for you. After all, what kind of a husband would he be if he didn't take care of his missus and your little one?

Soap

If you take Ghost’s cautiousness, mix it with Price’s thoroughness, and crank it up to an 11, you get Soap

From the moment he found out you were pregnant, he put your house into full lockdown mode, stopping just short of booby trapping the front door in case you got any funny ideas

You want some fresh air? Just open a window. You want to go for a walk and stretch your legs? Just take a few turns about the living room like you're some Austenian heroine

Don't let him catch you doing any kind of physical labor, because so help him Jesus he will grab a spray bottle and use it like you're a feral alleycat he's trying to house-train (he wouldn't really... but don't test him)

You try to unload the dishwasher? Ehrr! Wrong move. You try to remake the bed? Ehrr! Nice try. You try to mop up your own mess. Ehrr! Enough already. You try to– OCH, WOULD YE BLOODY SIT DOWN, WOMAN?!

For nine long months during his requested leave from work, your husband is attached to you like some kind of loving, smothering barnacle

But doesn't he miss his job, or the lads for that matter? What if the world needs saving? What will they do without him?

Well, (in his exact words) fuck the rest of the world! You're his world, bonnie, and he'll give you everything you could ever wish for and then some

Gaz

By far, you have the most independence with Gaz than you would with any of the other three men… at least, at the beginning of your pregnancy, that is

Once you get to around five or six months he becomes just as helicopter-y as all the others; he's just ever so slightly more bearable, perhaps

There's lots of peeking his head around the corner to check on you throughout the day or appearing seemingly out of thin air whenever you're doing something he'd rather you wouldn't

You've lost count of the number of times you've been in the middle of cooking or hanging up the laundry or whatever and his hand has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gently taking the object from you before directing you to sit and rest

And like, look. He knows you can handle yourself. He knows you could conquer the whole world if you wanted to. That's one of the things he loves about you the most

But seeing you like this – so fragile, so vulnerable, so beautiful and soft and pregnant with his child; his child – it just… It makes him…

He just needs to do these things for you, alright, love? Just let him take care of you, please? Would you let him do that?

You already have so much you have to carry. Let him ease some of the burden off your shoulders. Let him do these small things for you because they don't even compare to all that you're doing for him 🥲

[illyrianbitch]

Body Count

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: Anxious about how your lack of experience compares to Azriel's, you ask him about his body count. Unfortunately for him, he misunderstands the question gravely.

based on this funny lil request!

Warnings: angst if you squint, miscommunication, silly az and silly cassian making fun of silly az, mentions of death/killing, a sweet lil kiss! fluff!

Word Count: 3.3k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You’ve always had a soft spot for Azriel. 

It wasn’t just his mysterious aura and brooding looks that made him irresistibly attractive to you— though those definitely added to the appeal. Azriel was thoughtful. He was attentive. He seemed to understand you and your needs in a way that none of your other friends could. 

Your feelings for him had grown over time, blossoming into a full-blown crush.

And for the most part, it seemed like Azriel enjoyed your company too. 

There was a playful flirtation between you two, a spark that you hoped would ignite into something more. It had grown even hotter these past two months, through conversations that were held entirely too close to one another, stolen glances, and brief touches that sent shivers down your spine. 

But deep down in your stomach, there was something holding you back— a bitter, nauseating feeling. You weren’t just nervous, you were insecure. 

It wasn’t a secret that Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand had their fair share of lovers. After all, they were all extremely attractive and had lived for centuries longer than you. But the idea of Azriel’s love life had begun to spin itself into an anxious, terrifying web in your mind. You weren’t experienced in such matters— at least, not nearly as experienced as Azriel must've been. The thought was daunting to you. Terrifying, really.

It was late at night now, and the last of your family had bid their goodnights, retreating to their respective rooms and homes. You found yourself alone with Azriel in the dimly lit living room, the small crackling fire mixing with the remnants of the celebration that lingered in the air— the heady scent of wine and the distinct smells of each of your loved ones. 

You stole a glance at Azriel, noticing the way his cheeks were slightly flushed, eyes bright with mirth. His shadows were calm, dancing playfully around his feet and his arms. He caught your gaze instantly, offering you a lopsided smile, the corners of his lips turning upwards in a way that made your heart flutter.

This was your chance— a perfect, quiet moment to confess something to him. To tell him how you felt. 

But the nauseating feeling in your stomach bubbled up once more. You bit the inside of your cheek. Perhaps it was the perfect moment indeed. Not to confess your feelings quite yet, but to get rid of the spider web of overthinking you’d created. 

Summoning up the courage, you leaned closer to him, the alcohol emboldening you. "Hey, Az," you began, your voice soft and hesitant.

Azriel turned to you. "Yeah?" 

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "Can I ask you something?"

Azriel’s face seemed to soften. "Of course."

You held his gaze for a moment, taking in the hues of his eyes that seemed more golden in the firelight. A small blush rose to your cheeks and you swallowed nervously, your fingers fidgeting in your lap. 

"What is your body count?" 

Azriel blinked. His cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink as his mouth slightly parted, and you watched as his gaze seemed to dance around your face. He opened his mouth to respond, but a hiccup escaped him instead of words.

"I'm just... I was just wondering," you stammered, your cheeks burning hotter with heat. "If you're comfortable sharing, that is."

Azriel smiled at you, letting out another small hiccup as he repositioned himself to lean closer.  His shadows seemed to reach out towards you, a subtle, almost subconscious gesture of reassurance. "It's alright," he said, his voice gentle. "I don't mind sharing."

He took a moment to compose himself. “8,754.”

As if you’d been doused in icy water, your alcohol-induced haze dissipated instantly. 

"Oh," you breathed out, your eyes widening in shock. "Oh."

You would’ve tried harder to hide your shock, but the only thing you could focus on now was the large, heavy, number. It hit you like a ton of bricks, the weight of it settling heavily in the pit of your stomach. 

You expected a large number, sure. You told yourself that you could come to terms with it, learn how to be comfortable with the gap in your experiences. But you hadn’t prepared yourself for this large of a number, and suddenly you felt… uneasy. 

Azriel watched you closely, his expression quickly filling with concern. "Are you alright?" 

Azriel had been with over 8,754 people?

You nodded slowly. Unable to meet his gaze, you casted your eyes towards the carpet in front of him. "Yeah, I'm fine," you murmured, "I, uh, I think I need to go home. I must’ve drank too much."

Azriel seemed to sober up immediately. His shadows, which had been lazily swirling around his feet, suddenly grew still, sensing his shift in mood. He sat up straight, a look of worry crossing his features. "Here, let me walk you to your room," he offered, his wings slightly unfurling as if ready to rise.

You avoided his gaze once more, shaking your head quickly. "It's alright. I got it," you insisted, standing up a bit too quickly. You swayed slightly, and his wings twitched as if he wanted to reach out and steady you. You quickly regained your balance. "Goodnight, Az."

Azriel watched you go, shadows trailing after you slightly before retracting back to him. His wings sagged, a sense of helplessness washing over him as he watched your retreating form disappear down the hallway.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel was tense. Every muscle in his body, every movement he made, it all felt constrained– stressed. Troubled. His shadows swirled restlessly around him, their hurried movements perfectly mirroring the deep agitation he felt in his gut.

Days had passed since his last proper conversation with you. He missed it— missed your presence, missed your laughter. He’d grown so used to your company, had begun to look forward to your conversations and the small flirty banter that he’d gained the confidence to indulge in. But you were distant now— awkward, even. And it was driving him mad. 

It was hot out, the afternoon sun blaring down on him and Cassian as the sound of clashing blades filled the air. Heavy sweat trickled down their faces, to a point where Azriel’s hair clung to his forehead like glue. 

But Azriel’s mind was anywhere but the training ring. And his brother quickly noticed.

"Alright," Cassian said, stepping back and lowering his weapon. "Either you're losing to stroke my ego, or something's going on."

Azriel grumbled, parrying another blow. "I'd never lose for your ego.” His wings twitched in annoyance. 

Cassian frowned, a scrutinizing gaze watching Azriel's movements closely. Something was definitely off. He tied his hair back up, securing it tightly. "Alright, spill it."

"No," Azriel replied curtly, his grip tightening on his weapon. His shadows seemed to wrap tighter around his form, as if trying to shield him from the conversation.

"No?" Cassian echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not going to talk about my feelings with you. We're not twelve.”

Cassian let out a small scoff, raising his hands in exasperation. "By the Cauldron, Az, just tell me why you've got a stick up your ass."

Azriel glared at him. A moment passed. And then he sighed, sheathing his weapon. 

"Y/N has been avoiding me, it seems."

Cassian frowned. "Are you sure?"

The question only brought a scowl to Azriel’s face, who threw Cassian a glare. 

"Yes, Cassian. I'm sure."

There was an itchy, prickling feeling of annoyance filtering through Azriels skin. His shadows flared out briefly before settling back into their usual orbit.

"Well, what did you do?"

Azriel’s shadows twisted tighter and his wings rustled uneasily.

"I didn't do anything.” 

Cassian gave him a skeptical look, crossing his arms. "Really?"

Azriel threw him another withering glare. But when Cass only responded with a raised eyebrow, Azriel’s shoulders sagged slightly. "At least, nothing that I'm aware of."

"Alright," Cass said, "Maybe you offended her somehow. What happened the last time things were normal? Can you remember?"

Azriel paused. He remembered quite clearly despite the drunken haze he had been in. He grimaced as the memory drifted into his mind, bright and clear as day. 

"She asked me for my body count.”

Cassian’s eyes widened. He stilled, leaning forward slightly. "And?"

"And I told her.”

There was a pensive look on Cassian’s face, a furrow forming between his brows as he processed Azriel's words. He narrowed his eyes at his brother. "What is your body count?" 

Exactly like that other night, Azriel replied without hesitation. "8,754.”

Cassian coughed, his eyes widening in disbelief. "I-I’m sorry?" he spluttered, caught off guard by the staggering number.

Azriel's confusion deepened, a frown marring his features. "You know this.”

"No," Cassian countered, shaking his head emphatically. “I do not know this.”

Azriel clenched his jaw, offering Cassian a cold unamused and irritated stare. “Yes, you do.”

"Apparently not.” Cassian let out a scoff. “Hell, I would’ve remembered if you slept with almost nine thousand people, Az. That's more than me."

Azriel’s face twisted into a scowl, a deep crease forming between his brows. His wings flared slightly. 

"Slept with? What the hell are you talking about?" 

Realization flickered in Cassian’s widened eyes, and suddenly, an understanding dawned on him. "Oh," he breathed out, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He let out a hearty laugh. "Got all the skills in the world but that brain still fails ya, huh Az?" 

Azriel fought the urge to send a swift hit to his brother's jaw, if only to knock the amused grin off his face. 

"Can you be serious for one godsdamned minute?" Azriel snapped.

Cassian's laughter subsided, his expression sobering as he met Azriel's gaze— only slightly. The grin still persisted. "Body count doesn’t refer to your kill count," he explained, "It’s how many people you’ve fucked."

Azriel's face dropped and the color drained from his cheeks. From behind him, his wings fell limp. "You can’t be serious.”

"Deadly serious, brother.”

Azriel glanced to the ground, his mind racing through that moment with you. He thought back to your response, to that small “Oh” that haunted him, to the way your eyes widened. He’d simply assumed that you were disgusted by the amount of lives he’d taken, that you’d spent the night imagining how much blood was on his hands. For some reason, this new reality of what the question meant— it felt even more intimate. Oh gods.

"So does Y/n think that I..." he trailed off.

"That you've fucked almost nine thousand people?" Cassian finished for him, a subtle grimace painted on his features.

"But I haven't," Azriel protested.

"Well, you should probably be telling her that." 

Azriel didn't waste another moment. He turned on his heel, desperate to immediately find you and explain the very apparent miscommunication. 

"Wait!" Cassian called out. Azriel paused, turning around with an impatient glare. 

"Take a bath. You stink," Cassian said, wrinkling his nose for emphasis.

Azriel's glare deepened, and he flipped Cassian off before continuing his stride toward the exit.

Cassian's laughter boomed behind him, the sound trailing after Azriel as he walked away. "eight thousand seven hundred and fifty-four," Cassian muttered to himself, still chuckling in disbelief.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel rushed down the hallway. Following Cassian’s unasked for advice, he was freshly bathed, hair still damp and clinging to his forehead. His shadows flitted nervously around his feet, his wings twitching restlessly at his back. 

He had no time to waste. Azriel really liked you. He needed to find you and clear up the misunderstanding before it began to fester into something deeper, something much harder to clean up. 

He found you in your room, catching you just as you were about to leave. “Y/n,” he said, as he came to a stop in your doorway. His voice was a bit louder than he intended.

You jumped, letting out a small scream as you spun to face him.  You caught his gaze as your hand flew to your heart. “Azriel,” you breathed out, a nervous smile playing on your lips as you steadied your breathing. “You scared me.”

He gave you a sheepish smile, his wings shifting slightly– a small, but clear sign of his embarrassment. “Sorry,” he said softly.

You let out a small laugh. “Hi, Az.” 

His smile grew. “Hi Y/n,” he responded, walking further into your room. “Are you heading out?”

You blinked in an attempt to break away from his gaze, casting a quick glance down towards your window. “Oh, yeah. I was just gonna go walk about Velaris, get some fresh air.”

Azriel hesitated for a moment before asking, “Would you like some company?”

You hesitated too, a part of you wanting to say yes. But then the infamous number came to mind, and the bitter, nauseating feeling returned. “Maybe another time?” you said, trying to sound as genuine as possible.

Azriel could tell you meant it, but the disappointment was clear in his eyes. “Alright,” he responded softly, his wings drooping slightly. “Enjoy your walk.”

A wave of sadness rolled through you at his response, at the way his shadows seemed to still at your rejection. Your eyes scanned his face, taking in his wet hair and the way his eyes seemed to plead with you. 

“I’ll see you later,” you said, offering him a small smile before making a move to side-step him. 

Before he could overthink it, Azriel reached out and gently grabbed your arm. The touch was soft, but it stopped you in your tracks. You turned back to him, finding yourself suddenly very close to him, faces only inches away.

His shadows wrapped around your wrist where he held you. A giddy flutter spread through you as his touch sent warmth racing through your veins. You melted into his grip, feeling a hunger for his closeness after just a few days without it. His gaze held yours, intense and searching, before flickering down to your lips. You took a deep breath.

“I’ve taken 8,754 lives,” Azriel finally spoke, his voice low and hesitant.

Your eyes widened in surprise. You took a step back, properly facing him now, trying to process his words. “What?”

Azriel looked sheepish, his eyes flickering with a mix of embarrassment and uncertainty. 

His shadows fluttered around him.

“The other night, you asked me what my body count was. I told you 8,754.”

You nodded slowly. “I remember.”

“I thought you were asking how many people I’d killed. Not—” he paused, a small blush reaching his cheeks. “Not how many people I’ve slept with.”

Your lips parted in an O of realization. You took in his face, observing how his shadows swirled tirelessly around him. Azriel offered you a small, unsure smile. A small laugh left your lips.

“Why would I be asking you how many people you’ve killed?” you finally asked. Your voice was soft with confusion and a hint of amusement. A small gleam grew in the shadowsinger’s eyes. 

“I don’t know,” Azriel responded honestly. “Why were you asking how many people I’ve slept with?” 

You blushed, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “It’s silly.”

Azriel reached forward, gently grabbing your hand and pulling you closer to him. His shadows wrapped around your wrist where he held you. You fluttered at the sudden closeness, feeling a rush of warmth and nerves flow through your body. 

“It’s not,” he insisted softly, his eyes holding yours with unwavering sincerity.

“I just wanted to prepare myself. I haven’t… I’m not experienced in these types of things.” You paused, holding his gaze for a moment. And then the corners of your lips tugged into a smile. “But gods, it’s good to know I don’t have to compete with the experience of almost nine thousand previous lovers.”

Azriel’s expression softened, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “You never have to compete with anyone, Y/n. Especially not with me.”

A warmth settled in your chest. His thumb stroked your hand, a soothing rhythm that seemed to cause butterflies in your stomach with every touch. 

“Well, that’s good to know,” you replied softly, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah?” 

Azriel’s voice was soft now, a low cadence that made you feel like puddy in his hands. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a small smile.

The smile on his face grew further. You traced the movement with your eyes, taking in the small smile lines and dimples that formed. His smile dropped slightly as he frowned, brows furrowing slightly. 

“Wait.”

You tilted your head curiously. “Hmm?”

“It doesn’t bother you that I’ve killed 8,754 people?

 “I know you have your reasons.” You shrugged gently. “Also, I don’t have to compete with dead people.”

Azriel’s shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, as if a weight had been lifted off him. A chuckle left his mouth. It was warm and genuine, and the sound resonated deeply within you. “Just one of the many reasons why I like you.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“You like me?

Azriel nodded, his gaze unwavering— something soft, almost sacred. “I do.”

A rush of warmth spread through you at his confession. You took a moment to let the words sink in. Your grin widened. “I knew it.”

Azriel shook his head, a smile of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. “I wasn’t really trying to hide it.”

Your grin widened even more and you met his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes. His thumb continued its gentle rhythm on your hand.  “Do you feel the same way?” he asked. 

“I wasn’t really trying to hide it,” you admitted, mirroring his previous words with a soft smile.

Azriel’s expression seemed to soften further, his eyes reflecting a warm sense of longing. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips. 

Slowly, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. His hand cupped your cheek delicately, his touch sending a shiver down your body. You took a deep breath, feeling his scarred fingers run alongside your cheek. He met your eyes again, his gaze heavy, seeking something— permission. 

“Can I kiss you now?” 

Words eluded you for a moment as you met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. You simply nodded, breath catching in your throat as you whispered, “Please.”

For another fleeting moment, his hand cradled your face delicately, thumb brushing over your cheekbone with a tenderness that made your heart ache. And then he closed the remaining distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was sweet and fervent.

It was shy at first— a hesitant, tentative meeting of lips that conveyed unspoken feelings that had never been fully addressed until now. You welcomed the warmth of his lips against yours, the sweetness of the moment overwhelming your senses. You pressed yourself further into his touch, fingers moving to tangle themselves in his hair as you pulled him closer. 

Azriel let out a sound of content as the kiss deepened, his shadows wrapping around you both like a protective embrace. You felt their cool, feather touch around your body, felt as lone tendrils weaved through your hair. 

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and smiling, Azriel rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed as he savored the closeness between you. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your cheek. 

“I’m glad we cleared that up,” he murmured.

You let out a soft laugh. 

“Me too.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

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[linktube]

this gmmore where link is being short and snappy with people and their precious trinkets is killing me, its so funny. see he can make being mean for the sake of it funny he just needs to be more interesting about it