#you got that mean Adler down
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animefreak1145 · 5 days ago
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bwuhhhh just saw ur reblog comments on my adlerbell ficlet and just wanted to personally thank u for the kind words and observations on my work !!
i also read the tags and,,,, adler putting out his cigarette on bell or even on her TONGUE is so insanely genius and devious and ur mind amazes me.... he is SUCH a mean freak like that !!!
(i have also read ur lovely comment on ao3 and i am seriously undeserving of such kindness and praise, thank you so so much!!!)
AGAHAJAHAHAJAJAJAJAHAJ!!! 😭😭😭 I WAS JUST POINTING OUT THE OBVIOUS, NO NEED TO THANK ME!! I love Adler x Bell so I try to comment/reblog where I can to show the creator support. It’s a desert out here and we need ALL the content we can grab 🥲 I haven’t done anything for your fic pinprick because wellllllll, I just don’t know what to say 😭😭😭 Except I really pity Bell’s that are so submissive like that, twists my stomach a certain way and yet I can see how it can happen. Epitome of toxic Adler. 😭😭😭 Thought Felix would be softer towards her but he’s treating her like an enigma he wants to solve instead of a person which…🥲 hurts my heart. Because I can see how someone else can be influenced by Adler. He’s a master manipulator
BUT AHHHH!! IM NOT TAKING CREDIT FOR THAT!! 🫣🫣 There was someone making real dirty posts about Adler here. Like consecutively. Just absolute dirty. I tried to find them but I don’t know what happened 💀 They were in the Russell Adler tag but when I went to search give them credit on this ask, it’s like they disappeared. Along with all their devious and thirsty comments about Adler. I searched the tag till before the game even came out 💀💀💀 Even though I knew they weren’t that far back. But yes…Adler can be a mean lover. Just like he can be an absolute horn dog for Bell. 💀
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altcvnningham · 1 month ago
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canis major
adler x bell!reader
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summary: adler doesn’t go back to berlin to forget, but he isn’t so eager to remember, either. after leaving you for dead on that clifftop in the arctic, he knows best to leave the past well alone. too bad that past seems to be alive and walking right in front of him; though where he wants to forget, it seems you’ve already beaten him to the punch. or; bell survives solovetsky and only has a hole in her head and amnesia to show for it. read on ao3
tags/cw: bell!reader, amnesia, light angst, referenced adlerbell, somehow bell survives the ending of cw, adler can't let shit go, adler is not capable of remorse but mayyybe a lil guilt?? dog symbolism always, no pairing yet but hopefully i continue this as a spicy drabble series idk wc: 2.7k
a/n: sooo this is my first fic for the cod fandom and the first fic i've posted online in a long time so hopefully this lil ramble suffices!! i've had adlerbell brainrot and wanted to get at least something out before bo6 ruins all of my headcanons so here's a snippet of something i hopefully find the motivation to continue into a mini series. enjoy :')
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Sometimes, he goes back to Berlin.
Stumbling out of the muggy bar into the dank alleyway out the back, Adler fishes out a pack of cigarettes from the front of his jacket; two firm knocks of it against his palm before he plucks one out with his mouth, pockets the box, and flips open his lighter. The clink of the metal echoes into the empty around him, the sudden quiet suffused with the sounds of passing cars on the street, muffled laughter from inside the bar, and the distant barking of dogs. Strays.
The cigarette ignites, glowing a cherry red, and he gasps around the filter greedily. Upon exhale, he sighs.
Adler isn’t a sentimental man by any means. What little he clings to, he does so with a loose grip, less than happy but stolid enough to allow whatever else he deems unnecessary slip through his fingers. Places, people. Things. Memories. Tucks the important things- logic, rationality, work, duty- into orderly compartments at the forefront of his mind, archived and marked off ‘til he needs it, while the rest, the mess, gets done away with, thrown into the great black gorge of oblivion. Anything else that stays- more often than not a thorn in his side, an unbidden, wriggling tumour he can’t find let alone cut out- is sequestered to a dark aperture in the back of his mind, anchored deep where it can’t come back up. Yet somehow, some nights, they always do. The smell of his ex-wife’s hair. The day he got his scar. Vietnam. The lab. Solovetsky—
The next word, the name, forks across his mind like lightning, and he bites his tongue before he can think it. It sits at the back of his mouth, nestled like an aching cavity in his molars. A tremulous breath that he forces down with another drag of his cigarette. Out with the rest. Out with the rest.
The barking doesn’t cease. Dogs, a pair of them, he can hear a couple streets over. He pictures them from the gravelly register of their snarling- maybe German Shepherds, a Bullmastiff or a Rottweiler. Their fight enunciated by the violent rattling of chain-link fences, segregated, the only threshold that keeps teeth from necks.
But no, not a sentimental man. He tells himself that the itch to revisit Berlin every Summer is for superficial reasons, and by no means is renting out a shithole hotel room opposite a sewer-laden river considered a vacation from anything other than the luxuries he gorges himself mindlessly on at home- maybe this is to keep him humble, more than anything. It doesn’t do well to remind himself of old times, not when he’s lived the life he has. Remembering seldom accompanies itself with the bittersweetness of reminiscence, and the taste it leaves in his mouth is always acrid. He doesn’t miss Berlin any more than he misses that dismal safehouse, or that sterile room he wheeled you into, questioned- tortured- no, interrogated- well, he doesn’t care to remind himself of the picture. Or the person he strapped to the gurney. But he catches himself thinking back to the city divided more than he likes to admit, and for whatever ostensible reason it is that drags him back here, he relents to it every time.
He tells himself it’s the weather, the cool rain a nice reprieve from the scorching California heat. Or that the food is better, not so much overprocessed shit and sugars. Can take his coffee as black as he likes without the waitress turning her nose up about it and double-triple-checking if he’s sure. And it’s the people, maybe, who leave him well enough alone. Or the drinks. The views, some places. The- air.
Not like Arctic air. Not like—
The one dog’s snarl rips bloodcurdling through the night, all froth and venom, and as the chain-link fence screeches and judders in its rusted welding the other mutt quiets a moment. Cowers under the meaner dog’s ferocity. Then, like it had been wounded, it lets out a low, anguished howl, beast reduced to a scared little pup. Adler holds the smoke in his chest around a stifled breath anticipating a release. But the first dog just grumbles, the fence clinks, and there isn’t much noise after that.
But the quiet doesn’t last long- just as Adler drops his cigarette and snuffs it with a wrench of his heel, another sound resonates, yowling through the alley.
The grinding of tires upon wet asphalt crunches from just beyond the alleyway entrance. The streetlamp overhanging the entryway glares bright yellow as it bounces off of the garishly coloured taxi cab, pulling up to a groaning halt outside the bar.
He thinks nothing of it, pulling at the collar of his leather jacket. It’s getting cold, and he’s left his drink inside. Wouldn’t want to waste good beer. Adler turns, and makes for the door.
And you step out of the car.
A half-finished cigarette bounces on the sidewalk before you exit, the softened heel of your boot following soon after in a splash upon the flooded curb. Your German is rusty- always has been- but it’s easy enough to utter a quick and easy danke as you pull yourself up out of the cab. The door shuts with a slam, and you tilt your head back to gaze up at the sign above the bar- Der Fluss Lethe glaring in faded lightbox red- and you let out a contented sigh, your breath suspended in the frigid air. Pink, bitten fingers pluck at your gloves, fingerless faded green knit, shovelling them into your jacket pocket.
Adler’s fist is already curled around the handle of the back door as he clocks your presence in his periphery, a stranger like any other- but your image resembles the one that coagulates in the borders of old memory, the dried blood of you he hasn’t been able to wash his hands of since ‘81. Enough that he does a double take, his eyes wide behind tinted glasses, and he stops, his heart following suit.
He’s seen enough bodies in his time to fill the morgue in his mind twice over, and plenty ghosts to wander coldly among the unmarked graves. Vietnam alone is an unwinding cemetery stretching endless, catacombs along the inside of his skull, lined with what his old shrink would call remorse. Guilt. As if the feeling mattered. As if self-reproach could turn self-flagellation into something so incandescent as redemption. As if the bile in the back of his throat could bring back the dead.
And it couldn’t, because it isn’t… that’s not—
Bell.
It’s in the way you stand, your back rigid, that slight slouch to your shoulders, always dragged down upon you like they bore the weight of the whole world (and they did, once, do you remember?). The pelting of rain smacks off of the lapels of your jacket and ricochets like stars, caught in the light of the streetlamp overhead, but for all he knows or cares it could be raining diamond and all he sees is you- the wrinkling of your nose as you accommodate to the cold, how your cheeks flush at the chill (as they had those nights he pulled you into the darkroom, evidence of your apprehension drowned in the red glow of safelights); your hair is longer, unkempt, but still that same colour (clumps he’d find in his clenched fist when you’d argue yourselves into a wrestling match, pinning each other by the throats to dented walls in Die Landebahn); that scar upon your brow; that wavering line of your lip, pursed and hiding behind your reticence as you always did, and your eyes- your eyes—
—you feel someone watching—
—your eyes turn, and fix upon him with the startled softness of a doe, hunter betrayed by the snapping of a branch underfoot. Adler’s heel crunches against broken glass, his hand lingering right in that threadbare threshold upon the doorhandle, and he can’t speak, can’t move, can’t think—
Open the door, Bell, open the door—
—and you stop outside the cab, your breath caught in your throat. You see a shadow in the alley, in the shape of a man.
The darkness of the alley gives enough cover that you don’t see much, but what you do make out of the man prickles at a part of your mind long dormant: the haughtily broad set of the shoulders; the halo of blond tinted red just beneath the flickering exit light above the door where he stands; the shadow of a strong, clenched jaw; and in the brief glinting of passing headlights as cars rush on behind you, you see a face half gorged by a thick, forked scar, a fissure struck down his furrowed expression. A pair of dark aviator glasses hide those eyes that you know are looking at you, reflecting back nothing but your own bewilderment.
There is something you know. Deep inside that half rotted head of yours, where an incomplete recollection of your existence before you awoke bleeding on that clifftop lies, you feel a twinge of recognition. Familiarity. Something. Something stirring deep in your marrow- a fear inherited, a conditioned surrender, a faded polaroid, a kiss? Your migraine, chronic, comes clawing back with a vengeance, as it does most nights, but this time with a savage fervour that wrenches your face into an involuntary grimace. Where the hole in your head had once been all those years ago it tickles and burns, burrowing into your brain and groping greedy fingers along remnants of memory. It claws at you, digging through your amygdala to find something fresh, something old, something palpable, real, something- anything. Searching what little remains visible to you in the thick fog of your own mind to pin a meaning to this feeling, an answer to your question, a name to that face.
You’ve seen him before. You swear. Somewhere. In a dream, reoccurring, behind a red door. You don’t know how, or why you’d think you recognise him- in those dreams, the door never even opens. Your hand ever stuck on the handle, jammed and impenetrable, what sits behind it forbidden to you. Like not even your own mind wants you to know. It confines you to your ignorance, almost blissful.
Adler’s heart kicks violently in his chest. He shot you. He killed you. He’d heard your death rattle on that clifftop in Solovetsky and the sound was almost like singing, your last word, your last breath. A miserere for your short and fractured life. And he’s looking at your ghost, standing there all owl-eyed and as beautiful as the day he found you bleeding out on that airstrip. Before he took you. Before he took you and collared you and made a damned mess of things.
The only thing separating you from the Bell he knows he killed- his Bell- is the star-shaped scar split across your left temple. The only wound he never had to sit and heal as he belligerently patched you up, poking and preening you like his prize dog. Yet in spite of never seeing it before, he recognises the wound all too well. He put it there himself.
And as you stand there for that brief moment- no more than twelve seconds stretched to an eternity- he thinks for a moment that you’ve put it together. You recognise him. You see him. As he is. You’ve figured him out, Bell, as you always do. You’re the only one to have gotten away with it, nearly. Or so he thought. And now he’s watching a corpse having dug itself out of the grave he put it in, standing there, staring at him. Suppose you’ve always been a dead man walking.
You could do it, he thinks. Turn. Fling your heel round and barrel towards him with all the enmity of a cornered animal. He thinks of the strays, barking. Can picture your mouth frothing at the sides as you sink your teeth down into him- gnarled canines, hooked to your chain-link fence- which he probably deserves. Not an unfamiliar feeling by any stretch, but one faraway enough to seem almost sweet now through the hazy lens of nostalgia. If there truly is a sentimental bone in his body after all, then maybe it’s just for that. Still, he holds his breath, awaiting the killing blow he’s surely due. But it never comes.
You release your held breath, finally, tearing your eyes away from the callous faced stranger. It’s a ridiculous notion. Just an uncanny instance of déjà vu. You don’t know that man any more than you know yourself. You settle on a more rational answer- just one of those faces. And with a disgruntled sigh you rub the scar upon your temple to soothe the ache, turn around, and enter the bar alone.
Adler sighs, his heart sinking from up high in his throat back down to his chest. His hand has latched onto the doorhandle for so long it’s gone numb from the cold, bruised knuckles bluer than they were before (bar fights- not here, but another, as there will always be). He wrestles his jaw pensively, knowing he ought to take it off, keep the door closed, turn away, and leave. Slink back, tail between his legs, to that shithole hotel room to drink himself into a stupor. Let you haunt him there, instead. As you always have.
But he doesn’t. He has no idea what idiocy compels him, what soft, dewy-eyed weak link in him snags on that chain, to willingly wander back into the viper den of reminiscence, but he wrenches his fist around the handle, pushes, and lets himself back into the bar, the thick, hot air hitting him like a drug that he breathes in, tart and sour with the cloy of sweat and alcohol but still faintly- just faintly- of you. Like rain carried along the wind.
And Russell Adler is not a sentimental man.
But from across the bar he hides behind his beer glass, watches as you move about, a phantom, weaving through the faceless mass of people celebrating a championship he cares nothing to follow. You take your order at the bar with a smile he’s never seen on you before, boots folded to tip-toes as you lean over the liquor-stickied top, your perfect mouth pink and sweet and laughing and alive. The world seems to move about you in a haze, an indistinct mist of blurred faces and bottled voices and beyond all the light and life and joy that seems to burn bright around you like a halo all he sees is you.
Maybe, then, he’s a fool.
But it isn’t lost on him, how your fingers skirt across your hair in an attempt to hide the scar upon your temple. Nor is it lost on him how you wince at the feeling, the stars in your eyes dimmed for just a split second as you shiver, like a touch imperceptible running fingers down your back. Nor even the way you fight the urge to look, to follow the feeling of his eyes fixed upon you, and surely not the way you lose that fight, surrendered to it, your sweet face turning and finding him in an instant. Without so much as trying, like instinct, like something as pathetic and saccharine as fate. Your heart called to it, a lighthouse in the fog. Port in the storm. Ships passing in the night but called crashing to the same shore.
(The pieces of you are scattered everywhere, Bell. He finds you in every split seam inside himself. Splintered shrapnel dug through his temporal lobe, severing synapses ‘til they go dark. Even stars die quicker than that. Quicker than you. Is that what it felt like for you, too? When the lights went out, was it him you last saw- or the sky, waxen, over the Arctic? A waning night, a distant moon. The inconsequence of death- brief celestial ephemera.)
The stranger across the bar looks at you, offering nary a smile, eyes indiscernible behind shadowed sunglasses. And where you ought to find his apparent coldness disconcerting, instead you wring out of your chest with a white-knuckled caress a feeling like… comfort.
Sometimes, Bell, you go back to Berlin. You don’t quite know why.
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nicka-nell · 2 months ago
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Vanilla or bad boy?
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Pairing: Kita Shinsuke x reader
Warning: nsfw-ish, just some silly thoughts
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Kita is the kind of person who looks very calm and mature on the outside to everyone. Mostly very plain and boring. Someone who simply follows his daily routine and never really has fun or does anything unusual, let alone forbidden. And the fact that he got into a serious relationship after long consideration, where he had weighed up whether it really made sense, whether he could really provide for two people, possibly a family, in order to get married after two years, only confirms that his life is anything but exciting. Right? 
Well… That’s what Suna and Atsumu, as well as his twin brother and Ojiro, thought when the boys had watched a game of the Schweiden Adlers in Kitas home while relaxing and drinking Sake. 
It was Suna who came up with the idea of having a little drinking game during the break. A game called “I’ve never...” where you always have to gulp down a shot when you’ve already done the things. Knowing full well that Kita won’t drink anything during the game anyway, after all, Kita’s life is boring. Right?
Well, no one would have thought that Kita would be the one who drinks the most, answering questions like “I’ve never had sex in a car”, “I’ve never had sex in a friend’s house”, “I’ve never had sex in an elevator”, “I’ve never sent nude photos” without hesitation, taking his glass and drinking shot after shot without batting an eyelid. 
“In a car? Shinsuke, that means a vehicle. If the frame of yer bed looks like a car, that doesn’t count,” came first from Atsumu, who thought Kita didn’t understood the rules. But Kita just looked at him blankly. “No, of course a car, and the tractor... But that’s not what was asked,” he said dryly. Not knowing that he would silence all the boys for the first time.
When asked about drinking when you’ve already had sex in someone else’s house, everyone thought Kita was referring to your previous apartment before you two moved in together. No one expected Kita’s calm answer. “So, that means the first time, right? I think it must have been when Osamu first moved. I think it was then...” While Osamu was thinking about which rooms he should disinfect again, the others just looked at each other speechlessly, still stuck on the words “I think it must have been when...”. Only now do they realize that this was probably not a onetime thing. 
And when asked about the nude pictures, he smiled mischievously, uncharacteristically for him, before he said, “How do you think you can keep your wife happy in a relationship?” 
It was with these words that you came out of the kitchen with a beautifully made dessert. Your smile so innocent and cheerful. Something that didn’t fit in at all with what the boys had just found out. 
And for a moment, Suna had cursed himself for suggesting this game, for knowing things now that wouldn’t leave his head. 
And for the first time, no one thought that Kita Shinsuke had a boring and dull life. 
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forever-rogue · 2 years ago
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Hi bb 💕 the premiere of TLOU was so damn good and I’m so excited for the rest of the season! If you’re still writing for Joel and taking requests could we maybe have some domestic fluff with pre-outbreak Joel? Hopefully that’s enough to go off of! ☺️☺️💗
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AN | I couldn’t help myself, dinner is served, bone app the teeth. It’s just fluff with a lil foreshadowing! Enjoy ❤️
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It was an early fall day that found you walking over to the Adler’s house and knocking on the door only to be greeted excitedly by Mercy’s barking. As soon as the door was open, the fluffy dog pushed his way past the screen door and over to you, weaving around your legs, tail wagging wildly as you reached down to pet him. 
“Sorry about him, sweetheart,” Mrs. Adler looked at the dog with a raised eyebrow, “he just loves people, but you know that by now.”
“Good thing I love him too. Huh buddy, you’re such a good boy,” you bent down and scratched his ears before kissing his snout, “is Sarah here? I just got to their house and wanted to see if she wanted to come home and help me with some baking.”
“She is,” the screen door opened and you stepped inside, immediately overwhelmed by the smell of cooking and that odor that older homes often had. You spotted the young girl at the kitchen table, but as soon as she heard you, she turned around with a huge smile, “do you girls want to stay for dinner?”
“No,” you and Sarah chorused before looking at each other sheepishly. You gave her a wink before clearing your throat.
“Thank you for the offer,” you smiled sweetly, “Joel’s going to be home soon and we’d promised him some cookies so…we’d better get to baking!”
“Of course,” she seemed unphased by your lame excuse, which to be fair wasn’t a total lie, “well, you know you’re both welcome any time. And Joel.”
“Thank you,” you grabbed Sarah’s backpack as soon as it was packed up and herded the young girl towards the door, “have a good evening.”
As soon as the two of you were outside, after having given Mercy a few more pets, you exchanged a look before both breaking into a fit of giggles.
“You came just in time,” Sarah sighed dramatically, “she was just about to start knitting and insisted on showing me how to knit today.”
“I knew I was getting some distressed vibes for a reason,” you gently nudged her side with your elbow, “don’t worry kiddo, I’ll always be there to save you. Especially from old ladies and their knitting. I can’t imagine a worse fate.”
“Seriously,” she unlocked the door and the two of you stepped into the Millers’ quiet house. You liked it here, it felt so homey and lived in, filled with lots of laughs and love. You cringed when you realized how cheesy that sounded, even in your head, but it was true. In the almost two years you’d been with Joel, it had all but become your home too, “did you mean it when you said we’re doing some baking?”
“Sarah, my sweet Sarah,” you kicked off your shoes as you made your way into the kitchen, laughing internally at the half consumed glass of orange juice and cup of coffee from this morning. They had been running late…again. How very on brand for both of them, “would I ever lie to you?”
“You haven’t yet,” she grinned as you nodded. 
“And I expected you to always be truthful with me,” you put the dirty dishes into the sink, “did you get all your homework finished?”
“Yup,” she grinned, “finished it with enough time to even sell some hardcore drugs.”
“I’m impressed,” you snorted in amusement, “you managed to get to Mrs. Adler’s, do your homework, sell some drugs, and make it back before anyone noticed you were gone. That is some skill.”
“Totally,” she laughed as you high fived each other. Truth be told, she’d hadn’t been sure about you when Joel first introduced the two of you. And you couldn’t blame her; she was fiercely protective over her father. It had been just the two of them for basically her entire life - her mother, Joel’s wife, had left the two of them when she was only a few months old. She didn’t even remember her own mother. And the idea that a stranger was going to come and change everything? It was terrifying. 
But you never pushed or forced yourself into her business, and let her warm up to you. You wondered at first if it had anything to do with the fact that you were a bit younger than Joel, but quickly learned it was all just because she loved him so much. And he loved her just as much and then some. But over time, she’d come to love you too and you loved her. 
These days it was Sarah pushing Joel to just finally have you officially move in. Again, that one was on Joel. You weren’t going to push him either. This was just as new for him; you were the only person he’d dated since his wife. But you loved the Millers and you knew that your future held both of them in it. That was all that mattered.
“How about some chocolate chip cookies?” you suggested and her face eagerly lit up as she nodded, “okay but, tell me how much your dad would hate it, if we tried to make pumpkin chocolate chip cookies.”
“He’d love them, but he’d never admit it,” she said and you knew she was right, “how about we make both?”
“A grand plan,” you smiled, “throw on a record and let’s get started. Maybe we can have everything ready before he’s home.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Something smells good,” neither of you had heard Joel come in, but when you turned around you found him leaning against the doorway, a lazy smile on his face. You shook your head in amusement as Sarah ran over to him and hugged, “hey baby girl.”
“You’re home early for once,” she grinned at him, and he playfully rolled his eyes, “that’s what you should be doing, as a man of such advanced age.”
“Thirty-five isn’t advanced, it’s-”
“Ancient,” you finished for him, smiling sweetly as he jokingly flipped you off, “we only tease out of love.”
“Some kind of love,” he huffed, affectionately touching Sarah’s cheek, “go on and set the dining table, okay?”
“Sure,” she smirked, looking between the two of you with a knowing little smile, “you just want to make out. I’m not a child, I know these things!”
“Table,” he groaned, taking her by the shoulders and gently ushered her out of the kitchen. She ran off, giggling under her breath, “and you are a kid!”
“Whatever!”
He turned his attention onto where you were leaning against the counter, setting his arms on either side of your body, affectionately trapping you in his grasp, “the two of you are always ganging up on me. Shoulda known you were going to be trouble.”
“Good trouble?” you reached up and put your hand on his face, swiping your thumb over the apple of his cheek. Joel always was a little rough around the edges, but you loved that about him. You loved how underneath that exterior, he had a kind, gentle heart.
“The best,” he took your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Despite his best efforts, you could still see the faintest blush in his cheeks, “just so you know, I want to make out, but I don’t want to give her the satisfaction. We’re saving this for later.”
“Aye aye,” you mock saluted him and he snorted in amusement, “we made cookies. And your favorite for dinner, so I’ll be expecting a lot of thanks later.”
“Baby,” he closed his eyes and groaned softly, “you’re killing me.”
“And you’re letting dinner burn in the oven, so move it,” you put your hands on his hips and shuffled him to the side. You felt him watching your every move closely, “stop staring at my ass and help me, please.”
“Fine,” he grumbled, but it was nothing but fondness…and it didn’t stop him from teasingly slapping your ass as you made a sound of surprise, “now I’ll help.”
“You are the worst, Joel Miller.”
What you really meant was I love you with every fiber of my being, Joel Miller.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Are you even paying attention to the movie?” you looked up at Joel, and nodded sleepily, pulling yourself off him as if to prove a point. You’d been lying on his chest, his arm around you for the last hour as you tried to focus on whatever silly movie he’d put on, “mhmm.”
“Shh,” you waved him off, “it’s not my fault you have terrible taste in movies.”
“This is a piece of cinema,” he joked, just as someone else on screen was getting their head chopped off, “niche cinema.”
“Sure Joel,” you yawned softly, “it’s getting late. I should-”
“Just stay baby,” he insisted and despite the fact that you knew he would, your stomach flipped happily, “I don’t want you driving late at night when you’re this tired.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist as he tugged you closer to him. You were soft and malleable and let him pull you into his lap, “but you’ve convinced me to stay.”
You leaned in to kiss him, slowly at first, suddenly feeling wide awake. Your body hummed with energy as his hands found purchase on your waist and he kissed you back with just as much eagerness. He really did make good on his makeout promise from earlier. And he kissed you until you were breathless and dizzy, grinning at him shyly.
“You’re so warm and soft,” he mused as his hand dipped under your sweater and spread his fingers along your ribs, “and beautiful.”
“Is that what you say to all the girls?” you teased softly and he let out a bark of laughter.
“Just you,’ he promised, as if you needed some sort of reassurance. You beamed as you leaned into him and peppered kisses along his jaw and down his glorious neck, “you keep this up longer and-”
“We’re not having sex on the couch,” you laughed quietly, a sound that went straight to his heart. He really loved you, he thought at that moment, “where one - Sarah could walk in on us any moment and two - we all sit on here. Bedroom, Miller.”
“Fine,” he pouted and you turned his face up towards yours as you kissed the pout away. A serious look crossed his features when you pulled away, “I’ve been thinking…”
“Uh oh. That’s never a good idea-”
“Hush,” he pressed a finger to his lips and you pressed a kiss to it, “I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time you actually moved in. Officially.”
“Yeah?” your heart swelled and felt like it was about to burst with pure happiness. He nodded and there was a gentle hopeful look in his big brown eyes that you loved, “okay y-yeah. Yes. I’d really like that too.”
“Yeah?” This time it was his turn to ask for reassurance.
“Yeah,” you promised, cradling his handsome face in your hands. You kissed him a few more times, reverent and saccharine, before you pulled back again, “bedroom?”
“You read my mind.”
“Joel?” you paused for just a moment before either of you could move, “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.”
“Forever?”
“Forever,” he smiled softly, “and then even longer.”
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littlemissclandestine · 8 months ago
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Please please please, I wanna know how adler and makarov will comfort us, like hcs, I mean, please? I want sweet thing because am very sad
Howdy Anon! 🤠
Thank you so much for the ask! Sorry to hear you're not feeling great and hope you feel better soon. Wasn't sure whether you wanted platonic or romantic or whatnot so I just thought of a mix (kinda) i guess. Sending hugs and hope you enjoy! <33
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---------------Russell Adler Comfort Hcs-----------------
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So as you know, Adler isn't the type of guy to get all emotional (Feelings? What are feelings?) but there's no doubt he'd try to be there for you as best he can
He sometimes does stay silent. Mostly because he's just trying to figure out what to say and how to say it but it doesn't take too long for him to come up with something
He's a great listener for sure. You can rant to him about anything and he'll make you feel heard. Hell, he could probably even relate to it.
Phone calls to check up on you are a given -> "Right. I'm coming over. Promise me you won't do anything stupid in the meantime? Be there within the hour, okay?"
You might find yourself crying on the couch and he'd sit beside you. He'd probably place a hand on your thigh and give it a light squeeze as he asks you what's wrong
If you refuse to answer, he'll play some slow songs and pull you up and off the couch and into his arms to slow dance because he knows it'll earn a smile from you. He'll brush a stray piece of hair out the way and look into your eyes, telling you he loves you.
If you're really having a meltdown and you're in a right state, he'll pull you into his body, resting his chin on top of your head as he whispers words of encouragement to you, not caring that his favourite shirt is drenched. -> "That's it, just let it out. You're gonna be okay. I'm here, alright? Shhh. I'm not going anywhere."
If you're in public having a panic attack, he'd notice the signs. The way your watery eyes dart all over the place being hypervigilant of your surroundings, the way you cling to him a little more than usual, how you aren't responding to him, how your breathing is quick and you feel all clammy. It's his job to know.
He'd take you to the side and shield you as he talks you down. Maybe even take your hand and lead you to the public toilets, making sure it's clear to freshen up and have some space and privacy. -> "You ever heard of box breathing, kid?"
He'll take you back to his car for a long drive and offer you tissues and strike up a conversation, your favourite songs playing in the background while you steady your breathing
He'd hold your hands in his to ground you if need be and rub your arms and thighs as you sob violently, staying quiet, looking away and closing his eyes briefly as he hears you. He can't bare to see you like that.
Russell would also cup your face, wiping your tears away with his thumbs as he asks you to look at him and he calms you down with that low, husky voice of his. -> "You'll get through this, okay? Just like you always do. Only this time, you've got me. So let me take care of you."
He's one to always come up with solutions to your problems, no matter what it is
But he's also brutal. No sugarcoating.
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-------------Vladimir Makarov Comfort Hcs-------------
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I feel like, whereas Adler has more of a way with words and is someone who also gives you comfort through touch, Makarov mostly uses a more materialistic approach but that's not to say he doesn't use touch.
He'd ask if you wanted to go out shopping (retail therapy) where he'd spoil you crazy, letting you buy whatever you want. A dress? Sure. A watch? Of course. A diamond necklace? You got it.
Mak would take you on a helicopter ride for sure during the day or even night, letting you take in the sights.
Makarov may offer to take you out for dinner to your favourite place, getting his goons to make the reservation (or threaten someone to give up their reservation and hold the poor receptionist at gunpoint so you can get a table right there and then).
But don't get me wrong...he'd defo watch your comfort movie with you again, no matter how many times you've watched it. You both just cuddling on the couch with a blanket as he plants kisses on your temple.
He'd crouch down in front of you, rubbing your knees as he asks you what's troubling you. -> "What's got you crying my beloved? What do you need from me?"
He's defo a hand holder so he'll rub your hands and draw circles on your palms and intertwine his fingers with yours. -> "It's okay, my love. Breathe. Just breathe."
This guy loves giving forehead kisses and you can't tell me otherwise. His kisses linger and he rests his forehead against yours for sure as he talks you down.
As you two sleep, he'd be the big spoon, wrapping his arms around your body, keeping you close while he whispers words of praise and how you don't have to worry as he'll always take care of you.
If it's someone who's causing you problems, Makarov goes pew pew and calls it a day.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *
Note: I was a bit biased when it came to Adler. Whoops. Hope that's okay for now. I might edit this post and add some more when I can. Defo doing a part 2 to Adler's comfort hcs. This was a nice little exercise though. Always a pleasure to write for COD men ;) - Star ☆
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astrosky33 · 1 year ago
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𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑
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ABOUT ME
Hello! I’m Skylar if you’re new to my page and I got my diploma in astrology from Kepler College (the #1 best astrology school in the world)
I’ve been studying astrology for over a decade now as well and these are the books I recommend
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☆ BEGINNER BOOKS ☆
The Only Astrology Book You’ll Ever Need by Joanna Woolfolk
Goes over all the basic information for beginners and has interpretations written in as well. In the beginning of the book it focuses a lot on Sun Signs but gives more insight on other placements later in the book don’t worry
Astrology for the Soul by Jan Spiller
Another great book for beginners. I like the interpretations
The Inner Sky by Steven Forrest
Written by a very renowned astrologer. He goes over signs, aspects, etc and breaks them all down really well
You were born for this by Chani Nicholas
I love how this book goes over how to use astrology in your daily life and isn’t just cookie cutter definitions of placements like many other books. It’s also interactive and you can write in some pages which is always fun. It’s one of my favorite books for beginners
Aspects in astrology by Sue Tompkins
This is a great book for people curious about what each aspect means and how they can manifest into your life
☆ INTERMEDIATE BOOKS ☆
Predictive Astrology by Michele Adler
This book is definitely worth the price. It gives lots of information on techniques you can use to make predictions in astrology. It’s based on Western Astrology
The Art of Predictive Astrology by Carol Rushmam
Another great predictive astro book that talks about how to make predictions based on transits in your chart
Medical Astrology by Judith Hill
This is a great book with information on body part astrology and medical information. Although I do want to note when reading this do not be afraid if you share one of the transits that the public figures mentioned had during their health issues arising as astrology is a polarity. Meaning you can take on positive traits rather than the challenging ones often
☆ ADVANCED BOOKS ☆
Asteroid Goddesses by Demetra George
Goes over all the major asteroids in astrology. This can help you a lot if you’re interested in learning basic information on asteroids
Planets in Composite by Robert Hand
There are not many books out there on Composite compatibility so out of all of them this is my favorite even though it’s very basic it’s still a good read if you’re learning about Composite charts
The Psychology of Astrocartography by Jim Lewis
This is the best book about astrocartography I’ve found so far and very informative. The only bad thing I have to say about this book is that the print is really small. It’s amazing other than that though
☆ OLD AGE ASTRO BOOKS ☆
Mastering Traditional Astrology by Mychal A. Brian
If you’re more interested in old age astrology then this is an amazing read. You can purchase it on Amazon
Astrology of the Tree by David Frawley
This is great for beginners in vedic astrology and goes over all the basics. Really anything by David Frolly is great if you want to learn about vedic
The Nakshatras; the Lunar Mansions of Vedic Astrology by Dennis Harness
It’s a short read and goes over all the meanings of all the nakshatras
Light on Relationships by Hart De
A very comprehensive read that goes over synastry in Indian astrology. It gives lots of interesting techniques that can give insight on future marriages as well
Mayan Calender Astrology by Kenneth Johnson
This is extremely hard to comprehend so don’t purchase if you’re new to astrology. Even I had to read it a few times to fully get it. It discusses the astrology that the egyptians wrote in their hieroglyphics
☆ BOOKS I STUDIED FOR MY DIPLOMA ☆ [these aren’t all of them just some of my faves]
Sky and Psyche; the relationship between cosmos and consciousness by Nicholas Campion and Patrick Curry
This is an extremely underrated book and one of my favorites by far. This book goes over not just meanings of the planets, houses, synastry aspects, etc but also why the planets manifest in certain ways
The planetarization of consciousness by Dane Rudhyar
This one isn’t a basic overview like the other books I’ve mentioned it’s more psychological type astrology which I found really interesting
History of western astrology volume 1 & 2 by Nicholas Campion
This goes over how astrology has been used throughout history and why it was used in the past
☆ OTHER ASTRO BOOKS ☆
Moonology by Yasmin Boland
This is a manifestation astrology book. It gives an amazing story about the authors life before using astrology and manifestation and how it impacted them. Great for learning how to manifest using the moon cycles and astrology
The Handbook of Chinese Horoscopes by Theodora Lau and Laura Lau
My favorite Chinese astrology book. There isn’t many good ones out there
Birth Time Rectification by Paul Manley
There are some things I would’ve added to this book that weren’t mentioned but other than that it’s pretty good in helping find the right birth times using vedic astrology
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<- 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧
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verypeanutgarden · 20 days ago
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Ushijima would be the type to not know that he is a natural flirty person. He is completely clueless. Especially with you. Being the manager of Schweiden Adlers you have your challenges with his flirty actions. We are now in the volleyball court of Schweiden Adlers...
•••••••
"Ushijima?" You called.
He turns his head towards you, showing off his abs as he wipes the sweat off his chin. His cheeks, red from the training drill they have been doing for the past hour. He shifts his weight as hes full body turns towards you.
"Yes Y/n?" He replied, as he pulls down his shirt and stares down at you. His body, almost shadowing you. You space out until you snap yourself back to reality, you open your mouth to speak...
"Here is your work out plan" you show him your tablet and with the use of your pen you point out and draw what is needed.
"Starting next week monday, you will be doing more weights during your strength training, and we will implement more foot as well as speed training following friday and saturday training. Sounds good" as you explained you didnt realize the lingering presence behind you bend down and place his head near yours to view your tablet
"Sounds good, may I ask if my diet will change at all" he said bluntly as if your faces weren't mere inches apart. With a small blush forming on your cheeks you take a step away and reply a nope, then running off to the next player you need to discuss their workout with. Ushijima who has no idea of how his actions affect others stand there still confused as to why your behavior has been like this ever since you joined the Schweiden Adlers as the assistant coach.
"Ushijima" the voice behind him said. He turns to see kageyama. "We have to do stretching now." Said kageyama bluntly.
As they did their stretches Ushijima spaces out as to why you are acting this way. Which leads him to a ramen place with two of his team mates. Kageyama and Hoshiumi, they simply went because Ushijima said he would buy them anything they wanted. But what they didn't expect is for Ushijima to ask advice about women. It is good to note that none of the two hes about to ask advice from has no experience with women.
"Maybe shes just quiet?" Asks Kageyama "But shes loud with the head coach." Replied Ushijima.
They had just finished eating when Ushijima proposed the question, 'why were you distant with him, and him alone'. This ended with the three men with no experience whatsoever with the feelings of women to ponder why are you distant with him.
"Maybe she is feeling under the weather?" Kageyama asked, "For the past year?" Countered Ushijima. Which leads the two to hold their hand in their chin and ponder more.
"I mean, it makes no sense for her to dislike you because you have done nothing wrong to her" said Hoshiumi.
Which makes Kageyama nod along, the night goes on and they are left there at the ramen shop asking themselves why you didn't like Ushijima. When in reality it was the opposite, but they can't seem to quite understand that. As the night rolls the sky the two wave goodbye to Ushijima, with a solid goodbye and see you tomorrow the three split ways. Ushijima walking to his studio condo near the volleyball court, he still questions as to why you seemed to dislike him, until.
"Ushiwaka?" A familiar voice calls out. He turns to the voice and its Tendou. Ushijima waves and walks towards Tendou. An exchange of greetings, and they seem to catch the conversation they left off a few months ago.
"So how is that assistant coach of yours? Is she still working for your team?" Asked Tendou. With a nod coming from Ushijima, Tendou knew there had to be something bothering him. So his nose got to sniffing...
"Had a tough day? Seems like you're in thought, Ushiwaka..." Asked Tendou.
"I...just don't understand her..." Replied Ushijima in defeat as if his problems have won.
"Why don't you go talk to her?" Asked Tendou. "But what if she doesn't want to talk to me?" Replied Ushijima.
"Then corner her and ask her properly. Because it would be better than you to assume every thought she has." Said Tendou as a matter of fact tone. Ushijima simply nodded, as the night grew colder Ushijima and Tendou separated ways. Promising to tell each other when they would be in town. As Ushijima unlocks the door to his condo, he realizes he should talk to you and address this whole situation.
The next morning, Ushijima wakes up to his alarm that is set at 6 am, two hours before his training later. He gets up to make breakfast, a simple egg sandwich and then he changes into his clothes. Then goes to the gym to practice on his spikes an hour before training. As he walks into the gymnasium he notices a figure moving around the court, as he looks and enters further. He sees you. He notices the way his heart quickens with your every move. He notices the way his voice catches in his throat as you walk by. He was daydreaming until, he saw your figure wave towards him. Which has him wave back towards you.
Ushijima stays silent, this isn't the first time you have shown him kindness in silence so he decided to take the advice given to him last night.
"Y/n?" Ushijima speaks up. You freeze and turn your body towards him. You raise your eyebrows to him, "Yes?" You replied.
The air so dense around them, making it hard to breathe then Ushijima speaks.
"Y/n, I have to ask if I have done something to upset you...If I have I apologize if I have..." Ushijima trails off in thought, and pauses to wait for your reply. A moment passes and you still say nothing, he opens his mouth to speak again. Until you interrupt him,
"Ushijima, I'm sorry if I gave the impression that I hated you...I just..." You trail off with your words and can't seem to face him a blush forming on your cheeks you fidget with the bottom of your shirt, then you raise your head to look up at him until suddenly he is right in front of you. Bending down to meet your eye to eye, your lips just a few inches apart. If you were to simply take a small step forward, you would have your lips on his.
"Your red...are you coming down with a fever?" He asks as he places his hand on your forehead, your face turning more red.
"Y/n?" He asks. Even though he just says your name you can't help but fall harder for your crush.
"Should I bring you to the clinic?" You wave your hand in front of his face, and take a step back to walk away. But before you could turn you felt a grip on your wrist,
"Please don't turn away from me" he says with a pout in his eyes. Who could say no to him, with this it ended with you in the clinic with Ushijima right next to you.
But it would be an understatement that this would be the end of your story with Ushijima. Because one year from now you would be labeled his Girlfriend and soon to be Fiance, he already bought the ring.
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0vereasy · 11 months ago
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Life’s Creations and Love’s Manifestations - Dr Ratio x Female Reader
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Summary: Your promotion as one of the heads of the Security Department at Herta’s Station was full of many headaches, one of the biggest being a visiting scholar from the Intelligentsia Guild, and delegate of the IPC, Dr. Ratio.
When you were forced to team up with him to solve several crises emerging at the Station, how will your tense relationship change? And what exactly is the Doctor hiding?
Dr Ratio x Reader, implied Screwllum x Reader
LATER CHAPTERS WILL BE BASED ON THE 1.6 TRAILBLAZER QUEST!
Enjoy the fic? Consider leaving Kudos on A03!
Masterlist | Chapter 2
Chapter 1: New Arrival
Word count: 5.7k+
“I’ve got to say, Mr. Screwllum,” your voice was smooth as you spoke, a clear playful undertone underlying your words. You crossed your legs in the chair you sat in, leaning in slightly closer to the robot. Your elbow rested on your knee as you leaned in, hand moving to support your chin and to cover the growing smirk on your features, “An offer for dinner and drinks? In your private quarters? At this late hour?” your gaze briefly flicked to a nearby computer screen, scanning the time, before moving back to your robot companion, “If I didn’t know any better, I would guess you were asking me on a date.”
“Hypothesis: Would that particular offer be so awful, dear?” Screwllum’s face, as usual, was devoid of emotion, his robotic features forever remaining neutral. His voice though; that was what you had to focus on to understand his tone; his meaning. Based on the way he was speaking now, you knew the robot, like yourself, had less than pure thoughts running through his mind, his robotic tone of voice lighter than usual, playful even, “It is not as if you frequenting my quarters at such a late hour is a rare occurrence. Question: Would it be an offence to catch up with someone I hold so dear?”
“Hmm, I suppose not,” you hummed, drumming your fingers against your chin in playful thought, “You know I’m not the kind of woman to turn down drinks… or your company for that matter.” You let a small chuckle escape the ever-permanent smirk on your lips, “I wonder though; what ideas do you have to occupy our evening after our little dinner party is complete?” You uncrossed your legs, briefly standing up to scootch your office chair closer to his, your warm knees now touching his cold metallic ones, “It must be something important; you interrupted my on the job after all.” Your eyes scanned the dark security room, focusing briefly on the cameras you were supposed to be watching. As expected, they were devoid of activity, researchers and most security members long having retreated to their quarters for the evening. You were happy for the privacy though, considering the direction of your little conversation. You were quick to focus back on him
“Ah yes, the job you were so carefully conducting whilst reading the same book you have been trying to complete for the last two months,” the book was now long discarded on the desk, the boring contents much less important than your current predicament. You narrowed your eyes none-the-less, allowing yourself to rest a hand on the robot’s metallic knee in front of you.
“A genius like yourself should know your company is more valuable than one of Adler’s little research books,” you said slyly, allowing your hand to drift slightly further up Screwllum’s thigh, “You can’t hide anything for me, you know. So tell me, Mr. Screwllum; what exactly do you have planned for tonight?”
He sighed, letting a small chuckle escape that had you clenching your knees together to control yourself, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by your companion, “Conclusion: You are right, nothing escapes your careful observations, dear,” the usually cold security room seemed impossibly warm now, your heartbeat increasing in your chest as Screwllum copied your actions, allowing his own metallic hand rest on your knee, “During my previous trip, I happened to stumble upon a quaint shop that sold candles and such,” he started, his words slow and sensual, leaving you internally grasping for more, “The owner happened to sell a collection of essential oils as well; for massages.”
“Interesting,” was your simple reply, not trusting yourself to comment further as a flood of dirty imagery grew in your brain. Screwllum watched your expression carefully, another chuckle escaping his metal mouth that had you completely willing and ready to jump out of your stupid office chair and straddle him right there and then.
“Hypothesis: I know you have been stressed lately. Conclusion: A relaxing meal and massage may help revitalize you before Ruan Mei’s expected visit. I have been told that I am exceptional with my hands.” You couldn’t help but swallow hard at that, your throat bobbing slightly as Screwllum’s began massaging your knee with his hand, fingers expertly kneading the flesh. You resisted the urge to clench your thighs together once more.
“You’re always full of surprises,” your voice was slightly shaky this time, body hyper-focused on his touch on your knee. You stood up again, allowing you to be face-to-face with the robot who usually towered over you, “I gotta say though, I’m curious about one thing… Mr. Screwllum.” You whispered his name, your words causing goosebumps on your own skin, as if the universe or some aeon out there was making up for the lack of physical reaction that Mr. Screwllum could afford from his own body.
“And what would that be?” He asked simply, glowing green eyes staring back at you defiantly, briefly flickering to your hands, which now rested around his neck, allowing your two bodies to be even closer together. At this rate, you weren’t even sure you could make it to dinner, your arousal ever-growing.
“Everyone knows that massages start at the shoulders,” you commented, rubbing his own metallic shoulders through his shirt, despite the knowledge that the motion would do nothing for him, “and then often trail down the back,” you allowed your hands to dip down his metal spine slowly, brushing the green butterfly wings on his back “but ultimately, they have to stop,” your hands came to a rest at his hips, your face moving close to his so you could whisper in his metallic ear, “So, Mr. Screwllum, where will your hands end up?”
He chuckled, one of his hands tilting your chin slightly so he could better look you in the eye. The room was practically spinning then, your hair clinging to your forehead due to the heat building up in the small space, “Interesting line of inquiry, my dear. Of course, my hands would end up-”
BRINGGGGG BRINGGGGG
The sudden ring of your walkie talkie from the desk made you jump, you and Screwllum separating from each other, and whatever little world you had been in, in shock. You muttered a curse under your breath as you slumped back into your chair, trying to contain your annoyance as you spoke, “This is Y/N from the security department. What is it?” You rubbed your thighs together angrily as if you were a horny teenager who couldn’t get off… though you supposed that description was pretty accurate given the circumstances.
“Y/N, it’s Leonard reporting from the Supply Zone,” you couldn’t help but hold back your groan, glad that audio could only transport through thesed damned devices. Of all the people who had to call you right now, it had to be Leonard? The same Leonard who managed to lose a hacking battle with that damned Stellaron Hunter girl? The man attracted too much drama for a night like this, “there’s a ship trying to dock in the Zone, but we weren’t expected any visitors!”
“And the identity of this person?” you asked, forcing yourself to switch into work mode despite the ever-growing desire to make out with the robot beside you. Your swift fingers quickly pulled up the feed from the Supply Zone, showing a modest sized ship waiting for permission to dock, the few staff around looking between each other and the ship like lost, confused dogs.
“He says his name is…. Dr. Ratio, a scholar from the Intelligencia Guild,” Leonard repeated the name awkwardly. At the mention of the Intelligencia Guild, you looked back at your robot companion, exchanging a look, “He says he’s a representative of the IPC on his way to Penacony, and that he emailed Ms. Asta early this evening about dropping by for a few days.” Leonard paused for a few seconds, not yet hanging up the call from his end of the line, “He’s getting impatient that we won’t let him dock, and we don’t know what to do! Were just following protocol after all.”
You let a few seconds of silence pass, briefly closing your eyes as you internally kissed your evening of drinks and a massage goodbye, “...Tell him that I’m on my way to the Supply Zone… I’ll come as quickly as I can.”
“Roger that, thanks!” Leonard sighed in relief, the walkie talkie going flat as the line died. You resisted the urge to groan and bury your head in your hands, instead only allowing a frustrated sigh to break through your lips.
“I’m sorry Screwllum… I have to deal with this tonight,” you stood up, patting the robot on the shoulder sympathetically, “but maybe we can make another night work… I still want to take you up on that massage offer.” You spoke, leaving the implied context of those words unaddressed.
“It is quite alright dear, your work is more important that our leisure, though I must admit that your prescence in my chambers will be missed tonight,” Screwllum spoke honestly, grabbing one of your hands and squeezing it in his hold, metallic grasp, “But I will look forward to having you grace me with your prescence in the upcoming days.”
“Thanks for understanding,” you said earnestly with a small sigh, quickly pressing a kiss to his metallic cheek before regrettably letting his hand fall from yours, turning away to grab your walkie talkie and Station ID card and lanyard, which you let hang around your neck, “Do you know about this Ratio dude at all? Name ring any bells?”
“Affirmative, I have heard of him,” Screwllum nodded, “He’s known for his desire to spread knowledge across the universe… and his arrogance and self-centered nature.”
“Sounds like a pleasure to deal with tonight,” you rolled your eyes, turning back to Screwllum briefly, “I’m sorry again about everything.” You hoped that he understood the truth behind your words as you stared into his glowing green orbs, though you knew you would never truly understand what he was thinking in that moment.
“Please do not worry yourself, my dear,” he said, tone light, though the playfulness from earlier had dissipated. He reached over to the desk, passing you Adler’s boring book and your waterbottle that definitely was not filled with water that you had overlooked while grabbing your items, “Please send me a text once you are sure everything is okay. I will remain here to watch over the cameras until the next guard arrives.” You couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtful gesture, pressing another quick kiss to his cheek, lips lingering slightly before you forced yourself to move away
“Thank you,” you smiled, before your mouth slipped into a sly smirk, “I won’t forget this the next time we are together… I’ll have to repay you for everything, hm?” you turned to leave then, letting the robot ponder the true meaning of your words as you strutted away.
~~~
You could hear the new arrival before you could speak to him.
Aeons, his voice was so grating on the ears, his tone refined and moderately deep, but insanely unpleasant as he yelled obscenities through the communication port connecting the office in Supply Zone to any ships preparing to dock at that station. Even from the ever white and shiny metal hallways of the Space Station, you could hear his annoying voice echoing off the walls, doing nothing to help your annoyed attitude. You took a swig from your water bottle, allowing yourself a modest sip of the alcohol inside. You had to get through this interaction somehow, right?
“... and I must say! The gall of the renowned Herta’s Space Station to treat potential guests as akin to petty criminals is preposterous! For an institution dedicated to knowledge, I would expect the grace and intelligence of the security team to be able to determine friend from foe, and to allow those with the best intentions inside. To treat a guest like this! An IPC Representative! The service here is admismal!” Leonard shot you a panicked look as you walked into the security room, the voice of your oh-so-kind visitor somehow even more grating from inside the confined space. You flashed him what you hoped was a reassuring and confident smirk, striding towards the communication system as if you were born to do so.
“I must ask you, Mr. Ratio, to avoid insulting our staff. I would expect a smart man like yourself would know how to manage his words,” you spoke cooley into the microphone serving as the communication device, which was placed in front of a few monitors in the smaller security room overlooking the docking station, “My name is Y/N, I am a leading supervisor in the security department.”
“Did I ask?” was his deadpan response from the other end, “I simply want entry into the Space Station, miss Y/N, but you’re incompetent and completely unprepared coworkers have no idea how to check the identity of guests that checked in prior for visitation rights!” Clearly he wasn’t going to let up easily, a thought of which made you sigh. You cracked your knuckles in anticipation.
“Ah yes, the check in email,” you replied drily, scrolling through your phone, “An email which was sent to Ms. Asta a mere two hours ago. I assume, given your work experience Mr. Ratio, that you understand the concept of a 9 to 5 and working hours, no?” you kept your tone neutral as you spoke, though your words themselves carried enough attitude themselves.
“You-” the man on the other end seemed flustered for a moment, his end of the line going dead for a few seconds, “I am well aware of the concept of working hours! And yet, clearly given that you are hear gracing me with this oh so pleasant conversation, working hours vary. I would expect that people with your experience, Miss, would have the foresight to check an email inbox, especially concerning the arrival of potential guests.”
“You’re right, that would be expected,” you conceded, your tone still even, though the amused smirk grew on your face, “Which is exactly why all inquiries pertaining to visits and arrival times should be sent to the alternate security email address when Miss Asta is not in working hours, a fact you would have known if you had bothered to read past the first line of the automated response you must have received when you emailed Miss Asta earlier this evening.” The eyes of the security department members, or at least the few who had had been unlucky enough to have to work in the Supply Zone tonight, were glued to you as you spoke, just as you hoped Mr. Ratio was glued to his seat as he attempted to reply to your quips.
“Again, as I am sure you are aware, the use of technology in space can be fickle when travelling, especially when older vessels are not in the proximity of an electric source,” the scholar’s voice rung though as annoying as ever, though the loss of extreme exclamations in his tone was glaringly obvious, “I therefore did not receive this automated message you speak of until I arrive here and connected to your ships internal power supply.”
“Ah, so you did receive the message?” you quipped, dropping the respectfulness in your tone with this opening the scholar oh so graciously dropped at your feet, “And yet instead of sending another email to correct your mistake, you decide to harass my colleague? For a genius, your logic seems to be lacking.” You couldn’t hide the excited bite in your tone now, or the giddeness you were experiencing due to this conversation.
You hated to admit it…
This was… kinda fun. Definitely not on the level of rizzing up a robot like you had been earlier, but this conversation was clearly entertaining. What more could a woman ask for than sassing a renowned genius to release sexual tension that had built up earlier that night?
“You- you are clearly trying to-”
You didn’t let him speak, “Lucky for you, as a senior member of the security department, I have access to Lady Asta’s emails, and was able to check them after Leonard told me about the situation. Loe and behold, there I found your little check in email. I was able to confirm your identity and status after talking to a collegue, and after running a voice analysis on this call…” you paused as your fingers quickly moved over the keyboard in front of you, “I can can officially welcome you to Herta’s Space Station, Mr. Ratio. I am disabling the external security systems now… and I’ll see you on the dock shortly.” With that, you pressed a button on the keyboard, hanging up the call before leaning back into the office chair with a small sigh.
“Miss Y/N, that was awesome!” Leonard was at your side immediately, patting you on the back as a look of relief passed over his features. He watched your fingers and you quickly disabled and re-enabled the external security system to the station, allowing the passage of the ship through, “What’s that guys deal anyway? He’s such an ass!” Leonard allowed himself to collapse in the desk chair after you stood, grabbing your book and your water bottle, which you allowed yourself a triumphant sip from.
“We should know better than anyone, Leonard,” you commented, quickly moving to the door of the security room so you could rush to the docking platform, “Geniuses are fucking weird.” With that, you walked out of the room the same way you walked into it, confidently as if this was your Space Station, leaving Leonard and the researchers to gossip over the juicy call they had just listened to alone.
You’re sure Arlan would hear about this in the morning… a fact that he wouldn’t find quite as amusing as Leonard and the others. Oh well, future problems, you supposed.
The walk from the security room to the docking platform was short, a mere 50 feet or so down a ramp and across a small black platform. As you walked, steps quick but not overly rushed, you could see the ship docking in the platform, a small ramp extending from the door to allow for easy passage to the walkway below. The man inside clearly was in no rush, and was remarkably more quiet compared to your first impression of him, with no noises traveling towards you as you approached.
You didn’t exactly know what to expect as you stood at the bottom of the ramp. Considering the vast number of people hosted on the ship, each different from the last, there could be pretty much anything inside that space ship. Your only had one experience with the IPC was with that one debt collector, Topaz, who stopped by once in a while to collect loans taken out by Herta to support the massive money sink which was the Space Station. If he was anything like Topaz, you were expecting a scantally dressed man with a nice figure and a cute trotter to accompany him.
Well you weren’t too far off with two of your guesses as you watched the man of the hour finally make his appearance. The man front of you was definitely well built, your eyes scanning over his muscular arms and broad shoulders as he descended the ramp. He also was fairly scantally dressed, his Greek-esque outfit barring cut outs on the sides, showing off his toned stomach, along with his aforementioned muscular arms, one of which was completely visible.
Unfortunately, the man was not accompanied by a trotter. Instead, he wore a alabaster head over his own, blocking his face from your view.
“Well Miss Y/N, I would say it was a pleasure to meet you, but I always tell my students that one shouldn’t lie in a professional setting,” he stood in front of your now, having finished descending the ramp. He was a head taller than you, and his close proximity meant you were basically face to face with his stupid broad shoulders and toned chest. Maybe if you were less pissed off and the it wasn’t past midnight at this point, you would find the nerve to exchange pleasantries. However, with the alcohol loosening your inhbitions and lips, you let you true thoughts ring out.
“Can you even see through that thing?”
The lack of direct response to his taunts and the sudden change of subject were clearly not expected by the scholar, who clutched the codex he carried to his toned chest, almost as if he was recoiling from your words.
“I beg your pardon?” He spoke a moment later, as if finally snapping back to reality, he tucked the codex under one arm, allowing him to awkwardly cross his arms across his chest in a show of… defiance? Toughness? You weren’t exactly certain.
“The alabaster head, can you see through it?” you tapped on the nose of the head, as if testing the material, “seems pretty thick to me, how do you even walk around in that thing?”
He now physically recoiled from your touch, quickly yanking the alabaster head off his own and allowing it to vanish, a technique of some weapon bearers that you didn’t quite understand yourself. You concealed your surprise at the man underneath. His shoulder-length blue-purple hair framed his face almost perfectly, and the golden leaf pin adorning the top of his head brought out the gold and amber red in his eyes; the very eyes that were now narrowed and glaring at you as he too looked over your appearance, “Enough! I forbid you from touching this head, do you understand the time that went into crafting this? Or does an imbecile like you not understand the concept of art and the beauty of sculpting?”
“Given the way you’re looking at me now, I’d guess the answer to my previous question was no,” you retorted with a smirk, before sticking out a hand in greeting, “Welcome to the Space Station, Mr. Ratio.” He stared at your hand, not moving to stick out his own.
“That is Dr. Ratio to you,” he snapped, “I expect someone of your standing would understand the importance of a proper label and greeting, or do you need me to read you a list of my credentials so you can truly understand the importance?”
“Considering were already stuck together, I would hope you would refrain from making both of our evenings more unbearable,” you commented, unable to resist the urge to roll your eyes, “I would expect someone of your status to shake my hand so we can end these non-existent fake pleasantries so I can escort you to your quarters so we will both be oh so happier.”
The Doctor let out a sound the mix of a scoff and a groan, reluctantly reaching a hand out to shake yours. His grip was strong, as expected based on his figure, you supposed, as he shook your hand with all the enthusiasm he could muster, “Thank you for the oh so kind welcome.”
“Great, you’re sounding more like an IPC delegate already!” you cheered in fake enthusiasm as he released your hand, “Let’s get going then, so both of us can rest easier.” You gestured for him to follow you down the platform, turning your head and not glancing back as you did so. You were reassured he was following you based on the sound fo his footsteps, evident by the quiet supply zone given the late hour.
“I must say, when that Leonard fellow said he was contacting his supervisor, I did not expect someone like you to show up,” he commented as he followed you, his tone of voice as arrogant as ever.
“Meaning?” you rebutted, not willing to show your hand and work up a retort until you truly understood what he was getting at. You glanced over your shoulder to meet his gaze briefly, his golden eyes fixed on you.
“Most higher ups in security departments are stern and unforgiving men, not some over confident zealous girl,” he expanded, spitting out the word girl as if it was some sort of insult. You didn’t bother with a reaction, somewhat used to comments of such a sort.
“Our boss, Arlan is the stern one, though he’s definitely pretty forgiving,” you shrugged, leading the man inside the security room, smirking when you caught him with a slightly frustrated expression when you look over your shoulder, “My job is to be the witty moodmaker, isn’t that right Leonard?” You let your eyes move from the scholae to Leonard, who looked up from the security cameras he was monitoring.
“Y-Yes Miss Y/N!” he stammared, flushing slightly as you smirked at him. He was quick to change his focus to the doctor beside you, “It is our pleasure to have you on the Space Station, Doctor Ratio.” The Doctor didn’t spare him a nod, only quickly glancing in his direction. Leonard’s face dropped at the lack of response, a change which angered you.
“I’m sure Mr. Ratio is thankful for the welcome,” you replied despite the indifference seen on the man beside you, “I’m sure he’s just too busy thinking of how he’s going to apologize to you, right Mr. Ratio?” you turn completely now to look the purple-haired man in the eye, tilting your head to the side innocently.
“Excuse me?” he glared at you, again crossing his arms, almost as if he was dealing with an unruly student rather than security personal on one of the most renowned Space Stations in the world.
“Oh, was that not on your mind?” you feigned ignorance, shifting your book under one arm and placing an exaggerated hand over your mouth, “my apologies, I guess I just expected for a intelligentsia guild member and delegate such as yourself to maintain pleasant relations with the station, and to apologize to those you wronged.” You let out an exaggerated sigh, looking at the other security members in the room, “I guess with the small crowd tonight, your reputation wasn’t exactly on your mind?”
He was fuming now, fists clenched at his side as he glared daggers at you. He fists remained there as he let his gaze wander from Leonard to the other security members, “I… apologize Leonard, and all of you, for letting my temper get the best of me. I suppose I am tired after my long day of travel… please forgive me.” His fists were practically shaking now, his barely-controlled anger begging to be released.
“Ah, look at that!” you exclaimed, shifting your book under your shoulder so you could place a mocking hand over your heart, “I can almost see the diplomatic relations between the IPC and the Space Station improving as we speak! Amazing! Let’s get going then, shall we?”
Leonard and the other securiy members stare at the both of you as you leave, mouths slightly agape as they watch the angry proud scholar trail after you, fists still clenched and face now red in a mix of embarrassment and anger, though he was forcing himself to take deep breaths as he went to calm his own temperament.
Arlan would definitely hear about this now…
You allowed yourself another long swig from your water bottle as you made your way through the winding silver hallways of the space station, the doctor on your heals.
“You’re breath smells like alcohol,” he stated simply, taking a few large steps so he was walking beside you, “I’ll let you know that that is the only reason I allowed you to treat me like some fool show for your co-workers. What would that Arlan fellow say if he learned you were drinking on the job?” his gaze flickered from your mouth to your water bottle, mouth crinkling in disgust.
“I was technically off work…” you glanced at your watch, “almost an hour ago at this point. Guess I’m not truly drinking on the job, hmm?” you spared a glance at the doctor, his face much less red, but his eyes angry still. You really had poked the wasps nest, huh?
“I am no fool, Miss Y/N,” he rolled his eyes, sighing in disappointment, “Based on how you are carrying your bottle, it is almost empty,” he eyed your hand, the only thing holding up the bottle being a few of your fingers clutched around the hand hold on the lid, “and based on your delayed reactions and unexplained confidence, it is clear you have been indulging in alcohol throughout the day.”
“Wow Doctor, I’m impressed,” you replied with a smirk, “I guess all the supposed titles you have aren’t only for show.” You both paused in front of the elevator, doing the best to ignore the growing tension between you to. You liked tension though, and this interaction was filling you with as much heat and excitement as your previous more steamy encounter with your robot companion earlier that evening, albeit much less pleasurable physically, the desire you had felt long ago fading away to a dull ache you would have to deal with yourself later.
“You are insufferable,” he replied, pushing in front of you to step into the elevator before you could. You rolled your eyes at that, quickly following in afterwards. You easily press the button to the floor containing the living quarters and guest rooms, cursing whoever designed the space ship for making the travel distance to them so unbearably far from your current location, “Though I must say, I am surprised a person of your intellect level is aware of Adler’s System of Ecological Classification.” Both you and the scholar’s eyes trail down to the book in your hands, a bookmark placed very close to the front cover.
“I’m not,” you said plainly, drumming your fingers against the hard cover, “I honestly don’t understand it at all. I told Adler I would try to read it so he would have someone to rant to about it.” You shrugged, looking from the book to the Doctor’s face.
“Ah, as expected, you truly are an idiot, just simply following the crowds and what people tell you to do instead of using your brain to come to your own decisions and calculations,” he sighed, as if disappointed in the outcome, “Though I don’t know what I expected from a security girl exactly. I should not have gotten my hopes up, I suppose.”
“You seem awfully sure of your abilities,” you commented offhandedly as the elevator finally reached the right floor, metal doors opening, and you and the doctor stepping out, “Interesting how this ‘security girl’ has managed to best you twice in one night. I suppose even the smartest people can be bested.”
Alone on this secluded floor, you could feel the tension building behind you, a glance in the reflection of your water bottle once again showing the Doctor clenching his fists in anger. It was kind of funny, you pondered, how someone such as him had no outlet for his emotions. Yet, the anger now was different, as if his body was a volcano on the brink of expkosion.
You heard his arm move before you saw anything.
In an instant, you let Adler’s book, the bookmark falling out of the marked pages, and your water bottle fall to floor, arm moving upwards towards your head to block the force of his codex from hitting you. Clearly surprised, the Doctor had no time to react when you turned on your heal, grabbing his wrists and slamming him into the wall beside the elevator, his muscular arms firmly held in his grasp. He attempted to wiggle free, his muscles clenching against your arms, but your grip remained solid, holding him there despite the height and size difference between your bodies.
He stared at you in shock, those golden eyes that he just loved to glare at you now wide an innocent like a childs, his lips parted slightly in shock as he blinked cluelessly at you. He almost looked beautiful then, your mind conceded, someone as stubborn as him put into his place by a woman half his size. The heat between you two was obvious, growing by the second as you held him there, staring into those pretty eyes just liked you owned them.
You had expected you would be pinning some man against the wall tonight. Though your predictions were not as exact as expected, and least the core of the guess had come true.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” your voice came out as a whisper as you held his wrists against the wall, speaking into his ear, “See, Mr. Ratio, though you may be some stupid academic genius with outstanding credentials and a stellar reputation, you clearly lack any common decency and respect.” Your breath fanned his face as you talked, “Calling me a girl, insulting the security team. You’re someone who doesn’t know their place here, so let me make that clear to you.”
You released one of his pinned arms, though his body seemed to shock to move away. You let your hand trail down his defined jaw, tilting his head downwards so he has no way to look away from your gaze. Your body felt sweaty again, hair sticking to your forehead much like it had earlier. Your love for tension, your craving for control, they were all shining through right now as you practically degraded the man in front of you.
“You have the book smarts. I have the street smarts… so next time you think about swinging that codex at me, know your place. I won’t be so merciful next time.” You let the one hand holding his wrist dig into his flesh slightly, twisting and flinching it until the Doctor winced, involuntarily letting out a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper.
You released his other wrist then, satisfied with your work, but he remained against the wall for a second, as if too shocked to move. You were quick to turn around, grabbing your items from the floor, before strutting away, “Come on, Mr. Ratio… Your room is this way.”
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(this sort of follows the plot of the campaign so it's kind of a spoiler)
Black ops 6 incorrect quotes/scenarios
(after breaking Adler out of prison)
Adler:so where's the rest of your crew?
Woods:what do you mean?
Adler:well I know Marshall provided support while case and the rest of the crew got me out and given the fact the rest of the crew aren't here and didn't get out with us I'm assuming the exiled separately.
Woods:oh no this is all of us,all that in the black site was down to wonder boy over there
(pointing at case)
Woods:wasn't it case?
Case looking up and talking of his headphones:did you say something?
Woods:nah it's all good
Case shrugging and putting his headphones back on:ok then
Adler:woods where did you find this kid?
Woods: picked him up in 81 then he disappeared for a while and found me again a few years ago
Adler:what?
Woods:what?
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faeries-child · 2 days ago
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No place for love part 2
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OTHER PARTS: Part 1
Pairing: Azriel x oc/reader
Summary: She was the only way to get the information the spymaster needed, but he would have truly given anything not to see her again. Not to be at her mercy, completely under her control, for she awakened things in Azriel that he would rather had kept in slumber.
Warnings: Mature content, nudity, prostitution, eventual smut, mention's of SA, fighting and a lot of other triggering things :,)
NOTICE: I AM A DYSLEXIC, NOT A NATIVE ENGLISH SPEAKER, I WRITE THESE AT 2 AM, HAVE MERCY :)
(Also, I got some inspiration to this chapter from one of the episodes from BBC Sherlock, where there is the legendary Irene Adler)
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The man under Brianna had started to annoy her. She had kept him company for hours now. Fucking him, making love to him, pleasing him however he wanted. She was tired, tired of him. His smell was all over her by now and she wanted nothing more than to wash it off in a long warm bath, that she could maybe get to enjoy later, if she succeeded in her mission. 
She was straddling him, running her hands on his chest and smiling down at him. The man was panting heavily under her, eyes closed and his hands still keeping her hips securely in place on him.
 “I do not believe I can go for another round anymore love” he said looking up at her. He seemed to be intoxicated with everything around them and especially with her. 
Brianna thanked the mother that it was over now. Now she could start the real game. “My lord, did I wear you out? but there were so many things that I still wanted to do.” She let out a fake giggle at the end to convince him of the act she was putting on before him. 
She rolled off him, leaving him on the bed. Brianna walked to the other side of the room, where her robe was abandoned on one of the many cushions that covered the floor and made up the makeshift lounging area of the room. She pulled the robe on to cover her naked body. Turning to face the man again, she smiled that vicious smile she knew to make in situations like this. 
“Tell me my lord, now that you are back from your travels, what's next?”
“Oh Brianna. Why must you remind me of that boring thing people call reality?” 
He turned on the bed so he was facing her. In his eyes Brianna could sense a bite of annoyance. But to Brianna he was a simple man, nothing more than plaything in a bigger game she got to play. Getting the right information meant that she would get to meet the high lord’s spymaster again. 
To Brianna it was fun, refreshing almost. Talking to someone who at least tried to be a gentleman. Someone who tried not to look at her only as an object to be toyed and fiddled with. 
“I was only meaning to ask so I would know if you would continue to grace us with your presence in the future. Many of my girls miss you, they would be delighted to offer their services to you.” You lied through your teeth, like hell would you let any of the girls near this man. He wasn’t the worst that there was, but if you would have been given the choice, you would have burned him to ashes before he ever laid a finger on you the first time. But at least he was simple at mind. Easy to control, easy to impress. 
“My Brianna, always so sweet tongued.” He got up from the bed, starting to collect his clothes from the floor and putting them on. “But yes, I will be staying for a while. Business in the east went well, so now me and my men are preparing for the next stage.” He spoke not realizing how much he was giving away.
Brianna could truly now tell that he wasn’t the brightest of the punch. But she had gotten enough information, it was not yet enough proof to prove anything, but at least she had something interesting to report back to the shadowsinger and the high lord. 
Brianna smiled and walked towards the man, straightening his collar while looking into his eyes. “I am sorry to inform you that our time together has now come to an end, my next client is waiting already.” 
At the right moment the doors to her champers were opened, revealing Daphne at the entrance.  “I am sorry my lord, but I must ask you to leave my lady's room now, but if you are in the mood, you can enjoy a drink downstairs at the lounge bar.” 
“Of course, and oh!” The man turned to look at Brianna before saying “I am sorry to disappoint the other girls you were speaking of, but you, my Brianna, are the only one that can satisfy my hunger.” 
He bent down at her level and kissed her as a goodbye, then smelling her neck when straightening his back. After that he left, and deep inside Brianna could feel a shiver of disgust, making her want to burn all that he had touched, including herself. 
It was wrong to say that she had gotten used to it, no one could get used to it. No matter how many times she laid with these men, every single time she imagined herself somewhere else. She wished she could put a dagger through all of their hearts. If only she had the freedom to do so. 
Daphne looked at her lady, her friend. Starting to close the door so she could have a moment to dress and gather herself. Maybe bathe as well. Daphne knew the expression on Brianna’s face, she knew that her friend needed to wash off his touch. 
“Daphne, wait.” She said looking at her friend's eyes. “I have message for you to deliver” 
“What is it Anna?” 
Brianna fully turned to her friend and smiled at her, knowing that soon she really could meet the shadowsinger again soon. 
“Send a message to the high lord and his spymaster. Tell them that I have information that they will want to hear. “
Azriel’s pov:
Azriel, Cassian and Rhysand had been enjoying a quiet evening in the townhouse when the fire message came. Cassian had Nyx sitting on his knee, the little boy was chewing a wing of black bat toy that Nesta had gotten him for a present on his 1st birthday. 
Message appeared in front of Azriel's nose, making Rhys and Cassian turn their heads towards him. “What’s that?” asked Cassian, while trying to keep the little boy still on his leg. 
“The brothel already answered you?” Rhys concluded, making the assumption based on the frown on Azriel’s face. After the visit Azriel had been quiet, at least quieter than usual, which worried Rhysand. His friend hadn’t said anything about who he had met or what had happened at the brothel. 
“Yes” was the only thing Azriel answered. Not wanting to let his brothers know how helpless he had been before the woman. 
“So this means…?” Cassian asked, trying to pry more information from his brother. 
“Me and Rhys are taking a trip to the court of nightmares” Said the shadowsinger, thinking that bringing the high lord with him, he could maybe get more serious information from the woman. 
Azriel still didn’t know her name. In his mind he had started to call her “the woman”, not knowing anything else that fit better. She was certainly no girl. Even though she was young, no one inexperienced could act that way. Her eyes had been so dark and Azriel knew that based on the little bits and pieces he had seen of her living space and life, she had seen more than most of others. 
After Gathering their weapons, they put on Hewn city-appropriate clothes so they wouldn’t stick out like sore thumb in the dark catacombs of the city that resided under their beloved house of wind.
 This time Azriel took extra care in securing daggers and truthteller on his belt, not wanting to be caught off guard. Memories of the woman haunting his mind. He had not been able to shake her from his mind. That devilish smirk entering his dreams, his shadows whispering about her every second he got. He wanted her, but at the same time he wanted to stay as far away from her as he could. Lock her up and keep her to himself, leave prythian and never see her again. 
She was going to be the end of him.
Hewn city:
Rhysand gave him suspecting look, when arriving at the front of the brothel. Azriel however ignored the look and closed his eyes. Breathing deeply once, before stepping inside the place. He gestured to Rhys to follow him. 
Azriel saw the girl from earlier. She was beautiful as well, he assumed that all of the girls here were. Daphne his shadows whispered to him. 
Daphne approached them. Seemingly taken aback by the high lord’s presence. So the woman had not told anyone that the high lord would be joining them tonight. She curtsied to the high lord, as well to him. Azriel only nodded to her. 
Rhys had raised his glamor. Trying to blend in, not to cause unnecessary attention and rumors that the high lord of the night court had been seen in a place such as this. 
“We received an invitation. According to you, you have what we asked” Rhysand said, keeping his voice calm,  but still demanding power. 
“Right this way my lord’s” was the only thing she said, turning and starting to walk towards the stairs. 
Azriel and Rhysand followed. Not questioning where she was taking them.
Why are you so tense? It was Rhys, speaking directly into Az’s mind from the open crack that had left for him. 
Be on your guard brother, please. 
It was the only thing the shadowsinger had time to say before reaching the familiar door. Daphne opened it for them, revealing the already familiar room to Azriel. 
They took a step to the room. Both him and his brother assessing the space. 
After making sure there wasn’t anyone else in the room and that the door was shut, he gazed upon her. 
She was at least dressed this time. In a blood red dress, revealing her neck and chest so that it would leave any man drooling. Dress was simple, but clearly expensive, seeing that it was perfectly tailored to her, hugging in all the right places, before widening to airy hem pooling down at the woman's feet. 
Last time he had been so focused at not staring at her, that now that when he looked at her face. Truly looked at her in a beautiful dress and hair that fell freely past the woman’s waist in curls. She was the most beautiful creature that he had ever come across. Right in that momen, Azriel knew he was doomed. Because for him she truly was THE woman, the only woman.
“Good evening, lord of shadows”
continued... (part 3 hopefully coming soon :,) )
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ineylesian · 1 year ago
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$TING — GRAVES & ADLER
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KINKTOBER PROMPTS | Interrogation
AO3 | MASTERLIST | KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
DEBRIEF | Graves’ and Adler’s means of getting information out of you.
WARNINGS | smut, finger fucking, light choking, use of aphrodisiac, depiction of an unhealthy relationship, fem! reader.
NOTE | this is me holding back from writing Graves & Adler smut where they just bully the reader,, thinking about it but i have self control… included adler for the small handful of people who love him as much as i do 🫶
ADVISORY | NSFW CONTENT BELOW.
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GRAVES, FOXY & ADAMANT.
“Didn’t expect to see you out here, sugar.”
His figure is barely visible, carolina hues basking in feverish light. You nearly wince at his tone, all too familiar— memories rush back and you scowl his way.
“Didn’t expect you to chase a paycheck.” You fire back, hands rubbing against thick cord. “You’ve changed.”
Graves steps forward, swallowing the light, staring you down like he’s picked up the scent of prey on the wind. Dust swirls through the air as he bends over, face stopping mere inches from yours. His tongue pokes at the hollow of his cheek, eyebrows knit together, watching.
Something in him still doesn’t understand it. Traces of his life he’s desperately chased whole, right where he wants you. However, something’s different this time. When he looks in your eyes, he can only see the enemy staring back.
It pushes him to no end. Control slips away from his hands and just as he thinks he’s getting somewhere, the chair you sit on hits the floor loudly and you’re pinned against the wall. He sees you smile and his grip tightens, closing around your throat in an attempt to kill the remains of you that float amidst his head.
You keep looking at him, and his resolutions fall against the floor he stands on. The gleam in your eyes reflects off of years passed, and he senses the approach you take before you speak.
“You’re Shepherd’s bitch, Graves.”
Playing dirty, as always.
“I’m no one’s bitch. But you…?” The reply pools off of his lips, cool and relaxed, running a hand down your neck. “Still miss me, Mrs. Graves?”
He smirks, lightly jingling your dog tags.
“You got yourself caught.”
You scoff, shifting against the wall. Graves’ thigh pushes against your pelvis, keeping you in place.
“Wouldn’t have been any fun if you never got what you were looking for.”
His head tilts to the side, eyeing you carefully.
“Are you saying I wouldn’t have been able to find you?”
You lean forward, lips brushing against his. Danger flicks between your gazes, but he doesn’t push away.
“I’m telling you.”
Graves’ lips are rough, as is the grip that holds you against concrete. You writhe in his grasp, moving so your arms can hook around his neck. Gunpowder kisses your tongue, the scent of war tickling your nose as he kisses you. Light stubble scratches your skin, opposed to the clean shave you feel in your dreams.
You allow him to strip you of your belt, canines pressing against the inner flesh of your mouth when he tugs at your fly. A smile creeps along his face, pulling away from your lips to study your face. You’re nearly the same as he remembers, so dangerous, yet holding the same dumbstruck look in your eyes whenever he touches you.
“Ever thought of renewing your vows?”
Rough, padded fingers circle around your clit as he tugs his other gloves off. The noise that comes out of you is caught between a laugh and a moan. Graves smirks at the sound, breath pooling against your neck as he replaces his gloved hand with his bare one.
“Maybe.” You shrug, groaning at the sudden intrusion of his fingers against your cervix. “What’s my price?”
Graves’ fingers rub your walls, and you start to burn up. You direct your gaze to his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his dick considers your question. Sweat gathers at your temple, and you bite down on your hand when he adds another finger.
It feels like it did 10 years ago. You and your husband, holed up in a shitty base in a shitty town fucking like it’s your last day on earth. You reminisce on those days often, back when Graves was still a marine and had a ring sitting on his finger. Back when Shepherd was off his radar, before he took you off of his too.
He looks slightly older; scar lighter on his skin and faint wrinkles crawling against the corners of his eyes. The way he fucks you is still the same, impatient and needy, just how you like it.
Before you know it, your abdomen feels likes it’s twisting into knots and you cry out from the pleasure. A low groan pushes its way out of his throat, canines fastened to his lower lip as his fingers pump in and out of your pussy.
“Another round, maybe?” He grunts out, mindlessly pushing his erection against your naval. “That’s cheap, ain’t it darlin’?”
ADLER, DECEITFUL & COY.
“Package came in from labs, thought you’d wanna see it.”
You round the corner of the hall, seeing Adler perched up against the island in your kitchen. A small, plastic bag sits on the side nearing you, adorned with a CIA label.
“Huh.” You hum, pinching the seal between your fingers. “You know what it’s for?”
Adler shrugs, and you tilt your head in acknowledgment.
“Only one way to find out.”
You can feel Adler’s gaze on you, watching through a pair of clear lensed aviators. He’s leaning against the edge of the counter, seemingly over interested in the contents of the bag. A light crackle emanates from the bag as you open it, and you’re hit with a puff of a silver toned dust.
“Jesus.” You cough, subconsciously dropping the bag to wave a hand through the air. “What the Hell is this, Russ?”
Adler stays quiet, perched up against the wall with his hands folded between his chest. His lack of response tells you all that you need to know, and you scoff.
Then the worry sets in.
You feel a subtle heat crawling up your arms, seemingly moving its way up to your face through your veins. Within seconds, your entire body behinds to tingle. Your body feels hot, almost like you’re covered in layers that are glued to your skin.
The world is loud, nerves burning against your spinal cord as confusion races through your mind. You run your hands through your hair, feeling a distinct sensation pool in your abdomen; it takes root, leaking down to your naval.
Through the rushes of blood in your head, you can hear Adler’s shoes click against the floor. The sound makes your stomach churn with need, and you look at him, standing just a few inches away.
“Adler..” You call, reaching out for him. “Something’s— wrong. Help me..”
You sway, losing balance and falling forward. Adler breaks your fall, holding you against the ridge of his turtleneck. You cling onto him as if you’ll die if you let go, eyes opening only when you feel yourself being set down on the couch.
Adler kneels in front of you, catching the hand that paws at his waist. He runs a hand along your face, lips quirking at the balm encasing his fingers. You reach out again, and he makes no motion to stop you.
“Didn’t see this as an interrogation drug.” He mumbles, allowing you to tug at his zipper. “Fuckin’ freaks.”
Your mind is completely lost to him, focused only on the hem of his jeans. An animalistic desire scalds your nerves, and you whine as he pushes you against the edge of the couch.
“It burns, Russ.” You groan, bucking your hips up as he moves to unbutton your jeans. “I need you…”
“You’ll be okay, sweetheart.”
His hands smooth over your pussy, fingers dragging over your clit, adding a teasing flick as he thinks. You lock your legs around his back, attempting to force him into you as your hands palm his dick. Adler clicks his tongue, slowly pushing one of his fingers into you, deciding to test the waters.
“What did you dream about last night?”
“You.” Your voice comes out strangled, practically squeezing his cock in desperation. “I always do.”
His eyebrows raise in interest, finding this drug more useful than dozens he’s used in the past. Shame it had to be tested on you, though. Or.. maybe he was enjoying this a little more than it seemed.
Adler lets you pull him forward, fingers pulling out of your pussy as you sloppily stuff yourself with his cock. He bites down on his cheek as you rut against his hips, searching for friction.
“Tell me,” He continues, placing a hand behind your back to guide you as he lays down. “What am I doing in your dreams?”
“You’re.. ugh— you’re fucking me, Russ.” You moan, dragging yourself down on his cock. “The real you never has time for me— anymore.”
He tilts his head at your confession, reaching over to the coffee table for a pack of cigarettes.
“We’ll see to that.”
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KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 9 months ago
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Mile High Club
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A/n: Was reading Steven Adler's book and couldn't get this idea out of my head, don't ask where the connection was I couldn't tell you, but have this anyway :3 Also! If you enjoy reading what I post and want to request something please feel free to!
Warnings: Smut, masturbation, oral sex(f!reader receiving), daddy!kink, let me know if I missed anything :3
Being a flight attendant you were used to going on flights of all kinds, obviously, it was your job. Recently you were told that you’d be on a private flight with a big metal band, though you were never told which band, honestly you didn’t care all too much either. You were going to Sydney, Australia and getting paid to do so.
The day of the flight came and you couldn’t be happier, not because you were meeting some big band but because you’d always wanted to go to Sydney, and now you finally were. You got boarded with the rest of the crew though you still hadn’t met the band yet. Your coworkers were talking about them non-stop and it was starting to itch at you. You didn’t want to care who you were with, but you couldn’t help it at this point.
You were walking through the plane when a man with silver hair and sleeve tattoos called out to you. “Excuse me, sorry, can I get something to drink?” He asked in a polite tone. You stopped and stared at him for a second, thinking that this must be one of the members of the band.
“Uh, yeah, there’s a bar right over there.” You told him, gesturing to the bar just down the aisle. He nodded and looked back at you.
“Do they serve non-alcoholic beverages?” He asked with a slightly worried look.
“Um, I’m not sure.” Chewing your cheek, you continued. “I’ll go ask and try to find you something to drink, sir.”
“James.” He introduced, holding a hand out to shake yours. You hesitated before accepting the friendly gesture. “We’re gonna be on the flight for a while, might as well get to know each other, right?”
“Right.” You said with a nervous smile and walked away. He never called you back to ask for your name and you were too scared to go back until you got the drink.
After looking around for a bit you managed to come up with some fruity drink that had no alcohol in it. You were bringing it back to where you had seen James but he was gone, nowhere to be found. You went to a nearby attendant and asked if they knew his whereabouts. “Oh, he said he was going to his room.” They explained. You took a step towards the band's rooms in the back but they stopped you for a second. “Everyone’s talking about the two of you, you know.”
You were confused. “What do you mean? What’s there to talk about?”
“Well,” they started, “the band hand picks out each crew member they want, we were told that Mr. Hetfield chose you specifically.” You could feel your cheeks heating up, you had no idea why he would or what everyone was really  talking about, but now you at least had a clue.
You nodded and went on your way to the back of the plane where the band’s rooms were and found the door that had a paper taped to it with ‘James’ printed in big, bold letters. You knocked but there was no answer. “Mr. Het- er, James?” You heard strange sounds coming from the other side of the door but couldn’t quite figure out what it was. “James, I have your drink.” You called, knocking again.
“Fuck- just come in, sweetheart.” You couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your stomach at the name. You kept your head down as you opened the door, quickly closing it behind you.
“I have a fruity drink, it has strawberry, banana, um...” You trailed off, trying to think of what else you saw on the juice carton. You turned around and froze at the sight. James leaning back on the bed, cock out in his hand. His head tilted back with his mouth opened in a soft ‘oh’. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything and just stood there, paralyzed.
James chuckled at you and patted the space next to him on the bed. “C’mere, I’ve been waiting for you.” Hesitantly, you made your way over to him, setting the drink on the bedside table and sitting on the edge of the bed. Your gaze glued to his hard member. James' free hand went to your face, stroking your cheek. “I thought you were just the cutest thing when we were picking out our crew, you know.” He said, voice soft and airy. You swallowed, still staring. “What’s your name, sweet girl?”
You took a deep breath before responding, finally tearing your eyes away and looking in his eyes. For a brief moment. Your eyes quickly flickered to his lips. “Um, Y/n, sir.” James let out a soft groan when you called him sir.
“Thought I told you you could call me James.” You didn’t say anything, biting your lip nervously. He leaned closer to you, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Maybe I’ll just have to fuck that into you.” He whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear. You sucked in a breath, cheeks going bright red. “Go lock the door, sweetheart.” You nodded as you stood and went over to the door, quickly locking it and turning around only to be met with James right in front of you. His cock was still out, it was bright red and pushing up against you as he smashed his lips against yours.
He backed you against the door, his kisses trailed up your jaw and down your neck while his hand explored your body. He tugged at your uniform, unzipping the pencil skirt and dropping it to your ankles. He didn’t even bother with your button-up, he ripped it open, sending buttons flying every which way. “Fuck, I-I don’t have any other shirts.” You said with a pout, looking down at your now exposed chest. James’ big hands went to cup your chest, admiring you.
“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart, just be here with me.” He pecked your lips again before dropping to his knees. He placed a few kisses over your thighs as he helped you out of your shoes, paying special attention to your inner thighs. He could see how wet you were getting through your panties and brought his right hand up, caressing your thigh for a moment and dipping into your lace underwear. “So pretty, so needy, just for me, right?” He asked, looking right up at him. You bit your lip and nodded. James gave a displeased hum and shook his head. “Now that didn’t sound genuine.” He kissed you over the lace. “Guess I’ll just have to show you, no one will make you feel as good as I can.” Without warning he ripped your panties off, that plus the cool air hitting you making you yelp.
James placed his hands on either of your thighs, spreading your legs for him and pulling your folds apart. “What a pretty girl.” He mused, licking a strip over your slick, tongue dipping into your hole. You tried to hold back your noises as he ate you out, licking, slurping and sucking like his life depended on it. His tongue went as deep as it could in you and his nose kept bumping against your clit, adding extra stimulation. James began sucking on your clit as he pushed a finger into you, starting off with deep, slow thrusts to get you even wetter before adding another finger. “You’re so tight, gotta stretch you out a bit so you can take me, sweetheart.” You whined and nodded.
James curled his fingers in you, finding your sweet spot and making sure to hit it repeatedly. He continued swirling his tongue around your clit. By the way your whines were getting higher he could tell you were getting close. “That’s it, that’s a good girl, come on my fingers.” Your hands went to his head, holding it in place while you rode his face and fingers.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck~! Gonna- ngh! Gonna-gonna cum, gonna cum!” You cried, thighs trembling around james’ head. “Fu-ck, cumming, cumming, fuck, daddy!” You cried as you came all over him, hips bucking against his face. James waited a moment for you to come down from your high before he pulled away and stood up, wrapping his arms around you.
“What was that you called me?” He asked, leaning down to kiss your lips. “Did you just call me daddy, sweetheart?” You tried to apologise or deny it, nothing but sputters came out of you. James laughed at you and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart, daddy’s gonna make you feel so good it’s the only thing you’ll be thinking about, alright?” He picked you up, you wrapped your legs around him, grinding against his throbbing member. “Fuck, if you keep doing that-” He cuts himself off with a deep groan. “Fuck it.” He muttered, taking his dick in his hand and lining it up with your entrance before shoving it in. Your head fell back as you moaned, the stretch a bit much but nothing unpleasant.
James waited a moment for you to get comfortable before he started moving. He thrust into you nice and slow, soon picking up pace and slamming his hips against your, fucking you against the door. You couldn’t contain your moans, crying out for him. “Fuck, daddy, feels so good.” You’d whine. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, your face was hiding in the crook of his neck, occasionally falling back when he hit a particularly good spot on your gummy walls. The silver headed man hooked his arms under your legs, pushing your knees to your chest so he could go deeper. “Fuck- fuck, daddy, ‘m close, please.” You whined.
“Please, what? C’mon, use your words for daddy.” James teased, grinding into you in a way that had his pelvis rubbing your clit.
“Please-please, can I cum? Please, let cum, daddy, feels so good, please.” You begged, planting soft kisses to his neck. James chuckled at your pleads.
“Go on then, cum for daddy, cum on daddy’s dick.” Just like that, you came on him, your juices dripping down your ass. Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing him just right. “Fuck, so good for me, sweetheart.” His thrusts were getting sloppy and you knew he was getting close to his own high. You started bouncing on him as best you could, it wasn’t much but it was enough for him. “Holy fuck, sweetheart, gonna cum in you, alright? Gonna fill you up real nice.” A few more thrusts and you could feel his seed spurting into you, hitting your warm walls. He kept bucking his hips into you as he groaned, holding you close.
James carried you over to his bed, laying down next to you and pulling you close as he got the both of you under the blankets. “Was that good?” He asked, kissing your forehead sweetly. You nodded and nuzzled against him. James pulled you right up against him, letting you rest your head on his chest. “Good, good, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, pretty girl.”
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PROPAGANDA
BUMBLE (WARRIOR CATS) (CW: Domestic Abuse)
1.) Back with another Warriors submission, I bet you’ll be getting a lot from other people too LMAO. Bumble is a kittypet (housecat) who befriends the male protagonist Gray Wing’s girlfriend, Turtle Tail, and lets her stay in her house. This gets Gray Wing all pissy because he’s controlling of Turtle Tail and shares most of the wild/clan cat’s proclivity for looking down upon kittypets. Turtle Tail gets pregnant by another kittypet, Tom, who tries to control her by hiding the fact that humans take away kittens after they’re born. Eventually Bumble comes clean about it so Turtle Tail returns to the forest. Some time later, Bumble is found in the forest seeking refuge because Tom has been physically abusing her, scratching her where the humans can’t see. So, she’s CANONICALLY ACKNOWLEDGED as a domestic abuse victim (unlike Squirrelflight who meets all the textbook signs but the narrative and authors deny it). How do you think our good guy protagonists, i.e. Gray Wing “The Wise” and Turtle Tail, respond to an abuse victim seeking refuge? They tell Bumble to go home, thinking to themselves that she’s fat and soft and therefore would be useless in their group. Bumble stands up for herself and asks to speak with the leaders of the group. One of them asks if Bumble could just get along with Tom better (bro???) and when Bumble says it’s not within her control, the leader suggests being nicer to the humans instead. Another rival leader butts in and verbally abuses Bumble again by ripping into how fat and lazy and useless she would be. Despite Turtle Tail having been friends with Bumble and Bumble had helped her through her own hard times, to Gray Wing’s approval Turtle Tail chooses not to intervene as Bumble is forcibly escorted back to her abuser. But that’s not all. Later Bumble is found in the forest maimed and dying, and it seems likely that Gray Wing’s brother Clear Sky, a male with a long history of violence, is the culprit. Rather than mourn the dying innocent cat, Gray Wing’s primary concern is how other cats might be mean to Clear Sky if they think he’s a murderer, and reassures himself that refusing to help Bumble in her time of need was still the right decision.
2.) I have no idea how she managed to be written so horrifically from an abuse victim and woman (/she-cat I guess) standpoint but here we are. Okay so my memory is a bit fuzzy but basically Bumble was a character in Dawn of the Clans and a close friend to Turtle Tail, a major character, as well as a character who lived close to Tom, an abusive dickhead of a cat. Bumble was largely depicted as just a really sweet cat. Turtle Tail was very briefly the mate of Turtle Tail, but once she got pregnant, he became super violent towards both her and our gal Bumble. Tom actively hid the fact that, once her kits were old enough, Turtle Tail’s kits would probably be taken from her, and made Bumble keep quiet about this too, but Bumble eventually told Turtle Tail the truth, Turtle Tail left and Tom became extremely violent towards Bumble because of this, and was extremely abusive towards her. Eventually, Bumble ran away from him to where Turtle Tail and co were and begged to stay, since the wilderness as a whole was genuinely more safe than being around Tom was. Naturally, this meant kitty xenophobia from cats who had only arrived in that area recently, because everybody was insistent than, since she was a kittypet/house cat, things wouldn’t work out, and even her friend Turtle Tail denied her on this, insisted she was too soft to live in the wild and only sent her towards a cat Bumble wanted to convince because she was absolutely certain she’d be denied. Also our good old protagonist Gray Wing got to spend this scene being all upset about this soft cat wanting to join them to escape an abuser and was all bitter about the fact that Turtle Tail lived with her for a short period of time, and he also got to have a sweet romantic moment with Turtle Tail after denying an abuse victim an escape from her abuser. Also as much as I like Tall Shadow usually she sucked ass in the following scene because she was essentially telling Bumble to go find a way to make peace with Tom as if she was not the one being abused (Bumble pointed out that Tom was the one who would need to make peace for it to happen, not her) and that she should just make life better by going back to being a housecat and being spoiled despite the fact that she was actively at risk with her owners because of Tom. Then she leaves after being threatened by several cats there and is called soft on the way out. The next time she appears she is literally dying, and her death is just a plot device to create a stupid little mystery which is solved in a very stupid way. Also her abuser does continue to be a shithead and for some reason is fully permitted to kidnap his own children but he also gets a heroic death and the only reason I will not rant more about him is because this is too long already. Long story short Bumble deserves the world and everybody who decided not to let her escape her abuser just because they thought she was soft sucks
3.) Is nice to the group of starving, feral wild cats that left the mountains so their friends and family could have more food to eat and befriends one of them to the point of opening her home to her after she leaves the group because the guy she likes is too dumb to notice she likes him and keeps falling for his brother’s love interests.
Unfortunately, because Bumble is a house cat who lives in a house with people and not a Wild and Free cat, this is a grave and horrible crime (luring a wild cat into the safety and comforts of domesticity) and is villainized for the rest of the arc, including for things wildly out of her control
I.E.
Her owners taking in an aggressive male cat that bullies and abuses the two female cats already living there
When Bumble’s friend leaves and goes back to the wild cats, Bumble leaves her home (as the abuse as has gotten worse) to see if she could either get help or have her friend return so the abuse isn’t as bad again)
Bumble eventually dies in the wild because the feral cats all hate her for ‘stealing’ their friend and tricking her into becoming a kittypet for awhile and refuse to help Bumble adjust to wild life or even teaching her how to hunt.
They are littl e to no hard feelings at her death beyond ‘good riddance’ but the aggressive tomcat that chased her out of her home is later regarded with good feelings and regret at such a 'good, heroic cat’ passing when he dies despite him literally never doing a good or kind thing in his life and actually causing trouble for the wild cats right before dying
IRENE ADLER (BBC SHERLOCK) (CW: Lesbophobia)
1.) Ooh, she’s a woman, so she got to be sexy seductive sultry sexy lady! And in love with the male protagonist even though she’s gay. She got so nerfed compared to her short story version! She doesn’t outwit Holmes like she does in the book, she gets saved by him and she’s gotta be in looooove.
2.) awesome woman who outsmarts Sherlock holmes in the books turned into a lesbian dominatrix that mysteriously falls in love with Sherlock and gets outsmarted then rescued by him
3.) I don’t mind the sex worker thing; it’s a reasonable cultural translation decision in my book. But the character’s defining trait in the original story is that she beats Sherlock Holmes, and the BBC Sherlock creators were plainly too in love with their genius to let that pass. And the way she loses? She lets her emotions get the better of her in the end while he’s too rational to show such a womanly human weakness. Barf.
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tobybestupid · 1 year ago
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Steven Adler NSFW Alphabet <3
Tw: NSFW, smut smut smutty smut!! (Too lazy to name everything sorrrryyyy, I'll try), fluff!!, somewhat descriptive smut, breeding kink, mentions of threesome, mentions of drunk sex, masterbation,
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A = aftercare
This boy wants to make sure you're okay, gives you amazing cuddles and kisses, cleans you up. If he and you aren't too tired he'll run you a nice warm bath!! <33
B = Body part
His favorite part of you in your chest, loves jizzing on there. And your thighs, likes cumming on there too!! :3 his favorite part of himself are his arms, he can just wrap them around you and rail you relentlessly :3
C = Cum
He loves cumming in you (BREEDING KINK :0), on your chest, and oh boy does he love watching it drip from you just to push it back into you!! :3 he also makes sure you cum first, such a gentleman huh?
D = Dirty secret
Wants to get you pregnant, so badly. Poor baby has a breeding kink. Also wants to have a threesome with you, definitely not with axl... he's too cocky, maybe Duff, Slash, or Izzy?
E = Experience
Good boy knows what he's doing, makes sure you're having a good time, and hes havin' a good time :3
F = Favorite position
Definitely like the spilling bamboo, or mating press because then he can just pin you down and breed you :3
G = goofy
He's prob a little giggly if he's drunk, but if it's baby making he's not giggling but definitely making alot of noise. (Such a noisy boy)
H = Hair
He's pretty hair, mean just look:
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Hairy boy means hairy private. Drapes match the carpet, maybe a little bit darker. But he understands if you want him to shave, he's just a lil lazy :P
I = Intimacy
He can be rough and fast, soft and fast, rough and slow. Anyway you want it (THATS THE WAY YOU NEED IT‼️), *cough.* Anyway. Whatever you want, he'll give you <3
J = Jack off
Since poor Steven is on tour quite a bit, he does tend to jerk off a lot, especially on call with you (if you dont go with him). He likes watching you jerk him off sometimes— but why jerk off when you're there?
K = kink
He has a major, a big breeding kink. He has has a little bit of a degrading kink, just a little. But loves watching you cry from pleasure, and squirm around <3 also lives being praised??
L = Location
He's scared of doing anything in public, poor boy doesn't want to get caught. He loves bending you over anywhere at home though! The sofa, bed, counter tops, ECT.
M = Motivation
Tight or small clothes (definitely gets a boner in public/in general if he sees you in a dress or skirt), you teasing him, small things can get him bricked up.
N = No
Will not hurt you, if it's like a playful slap to the butt then yeah obviously. But if you want him to flow blown hurt you super bad. No, absolutely not. Also other icky bodily fluids, nope.
O = Oral
He loves receiving head, and giving. Prefers receiving, but will give you head :3 he's also pretty good at it.
P = Pace
Poor boy doesn't last that long, he gets really tired easily. Maybe two rounds on a super good day, three is too many.
Q = Quickie
Hates quickies, prefers taking his time with you :3
R = Risk
It depends on what new thing y'all trying.
S = Stamina
Poor boy gets tired easily and can't last that long, but he tries for you, usually fails.
T = Toys
Has a few toys for you like vibrators, teases the fuck out of you with it.
U = Unfair
He's pretty fair with you, if you're getting punished he's all about being unfair. But if he's in a submissive state, all whiny n stuff. He hates being teased.
V = Volume
When he's dominating you he grunts and groans, rather loudly too. Almost like an animalistic growling. When he's submissive he's such a whiny boy, and he whimpers.
W = Wild card
Likes his hair being tugged at, weather he's dominating you or he's a submissive good boy :3
X = X-ray
Alrighty. He's probably got a good 5-6 inches? Nice thick-ish tip, is thicker at the base and gets slightly thinner. His tip is a little lighter than the rest of him, and it's like a jungle down there. Large happy trail, drapes match the carpet, maybe a little darker.
Y = Yearning
He can't go that long, 1 or 2 rounds.
Z = Zzzz
Depends on how many rounds y'all did. He falls asleep super quick if it's been 2 or 3 rounds, but if it was only 1 he takes care of you then sleeps.
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SORRY FOR NOT POSTING RECENTLYYYYY
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wolfieisacat · 7 months ago
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thinking about Adler being a shit dad.
not in the "i hate my kid, i'm an abusive alcoholic" way, but in a "how the fuck do i father" way. in a "my father was an abusive alcoholic and now my wife is slowly teaching me how to love my child" way.
which also means that he doesn't know how to comfort the poor thing.
you'd only gone to the bathroom for a few minutes at the park, but your kid was already sobbing, stamping their foot and demanding their mama. Adler was desperately trying to calm them down, but it wasn't long until a concerned mother came over and asked if everything was alright. not to him, of course, only to your kid. asking if they knew him, if he was their father, etc.
once you got back you were able to tide things over, sure, but he made you swear to never leave him alone with your kid again.
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iamcautiouslyoptimistic · 8 months ago
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Deja Vu ~ Russell Adler x Female Reader
{Author's Note} This was inspired by @alypink's recent Adler render where he's leaning against a muscle car AND HOO BOY that put tons of thoughts in my head about a younger Adler before he heads off to Vietnam. Reader in this story dated him before he went off to war and they got together again after the events of the Cold War game. I probably got some timeline stuff wrong but I did my research and tried to keep it consistent lol. A horrendous sinus infection has given me a short break from school as I start some medications to clear it up so that means more time for writing! Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this! I've got plenty of ideas for a younger Adler x reader series so expect more in the future! And let me know if you'd like to be removed or added to the tag list🫶🏻 I don't know if I managed to include everyone that I wanted to so please let me know! AND YES I'm using a Robert Redford gif because they're basically the same person in my eyes LOL {Tag List} @littlemissclandestine @alypink @mctvsh @adlerboi @deadbranch @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @ghostlythots @glitterypirateduck
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Russell Adler x Female Reader
❌Content Warning: none❌
~ ~ ~
1965
“When are you leaving again?” 
Adler sends you a glance through dark shades as you pass him a bucket full of water. He takes it easily, hefting it with little issue while you had struggled to lift it only moments ago. 
“In a month,” he responds and splashes the bucket’s contents across the windshield of his car. “Higher ups are gettin’ worried about the increased communist presence in Vietnam so they’re sending in some troops. I’ll be going on behalf of the CIA to do some recon and see if we can figure out what’s happening over there.”
You knew that already. He’d told you half a dozen times before but he answered you anyway. He knew how worried you were about the threat of impending war, especially when he was being sent into the midst of it with little choice to refuse. 
All you can manage is a nod as you focus on sponging down the window opposite him. He notices your silence and rounds the car, drying his palms on his already damp tank top. 
“I’ll be fine, sweetheart,” he murmurs softly as he grasps your chin and guides your face to look at him. You blink back tears and he wipes away the few that manage to escape with gentle thumbs. 
“Just gotta make sure the Soviets aren’t meddling in things,” he continues. “It shouldn’t take long.”
You nod as he caresses the curves of your cheeks. “I just want you to be careful.” 
And come back alive, you think to yourself. Come back to me. 
He leans to press a kiss to the crown of your head. “I will. Promise.”
His lips meet yours in a tender kiss, one that makes you smile and clears the mist from your eyes. 
“Now, help me finish cleaning this thing before Sims gets here. He needs to see this baby in all her glory.”
You laugh, feeling your heart lighten as Russ turns up the radio. He bobs his head to The Beach Boys song flowing through the speakers and you promise yourself to commit this moment to memory. The glint of his shades in the sunlight, the shimmer of golden hair as he pushes it off his forehead, the movement of his arms and back as he leans over the hood of his car. The image is imprinted in your mind’s eye for years to come.
~ ~ ~
1982
Adler has changed, though your memories of him have not. He’s still stubborn as a mule with an envy-inducing sense of style and a love for muscle cars. He’s older now, quieter and less open, scarred both physically and mentally after his time in Vietnam. His most recent escapade involved a former Soviet agent who he refuses to talk about so you don’t push the topic. You’re just happy he’s come back to you.
“You gonna keep staring or help me clean this thing?” Russ says with a slight smile. His shades reflect the sun the same way they did all those years ago and you hurry to his side, upping the radio’s volume on the way.
Russ likes to talk about cars and so you let him, enjoying the sound of his voice as he guides you through the inner workings of the machinery before you. He's gentle and careful with his movements, and you notice the serenity in his features. It was one of the few times he was able to relax, a brief moment where he didn't carry the world on his shoulders. You know he's not perfect, far from it, but he deserves this temporary peace and you're thankful that you're present to enjoy it with him.
“Do you know that I love you?” you ask suddenly. The comment makes Russ pause in his work, gaze lifting to yours as he straightens.
"That so?"
You giggle. "You're supposed to say it back, you know," you tease, fully aware of his tendency to play coy with this sort of thing.
He brushes stray strands of hair from your face, the pads of his fingers delicately tracing your features. He was hesitant to touch you these days, fearing you'd be disgusted by his calloused hands, but you made it a point to remind him that such things were a sign that he had survived and kept his promise to you, even if it had taken longer than either of you had anticipated.
"I love you, too," he murmurs, his voice a low whisper, as if he were afraid to release the phrase into the world where it could be taken from him.
You grin and lean to press a kiss to his scarred cheek, hearing his contented sigh as his arms settle around your waist. You promise to commit this moment to memory, just as you had countless times before, adding it to the complicated collection of images and sensations that made up Russell Adler.
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