#Years of rage and frustration built up

[1544cimn]

We all know if Perry could talk Phineas And Ferb wouldn’t be on Disney Channel

[writingsbychlo]

UNWIND | azriel

summary; azriel is caught up in his head, and needs to fuck out his frustrations with the woman he loves.

word count; 8543

notes; I can’t tell if this is hot or pure shit so lmk because this is a little more than my usual smut levels. also, this is a vague follow up to ‘focus’ but very very loosely. can totally be read as a stand-alone fic.

The lights were flickering in the halls as you walked along, the steady bursts of uncontrolled power bursting throughout the House of Wind, thrumming like an irrational heartbeat. The closer you got, the stronger the pulses became, the more frequent the flickering was, and the thicker the air seemed to get. 

You’d known Azriel for decades now, long enough to have seen these moods before. It wasn’t the worst one, not by far, nothing compared to the night Rhysand found himself trapped, or Feyre was taken back to Spring. Nonetheless, it didn’t make it any better. 

Cassian had fled after dinner with Nesta in his arms, the Townhouse looking like a very appealing prospect to visit for the night, and you knew that even though the ripples of his errant power never reached as low as the library, even the priestesses would be on lockdown from Azriel’s mood tonight. 

He’d never lay a finger on anyone, he never had, but it didn’t make the tumbling stones shaken loose from the mountainside any less scary, or the mass of writhing shadows and rage any friendlier.

It felt like plunging your head under water as you stood outside of his bedroom door; breath held, utter silence thick around your ears, heart beating so hard it was resonating audibly inside your skull. When your fist tapped against the wood, you barely heard the echo. A steady thrum of power was all you got in response. A warning, a threat, a question of who had dared come close, you weren’t sure. 

No more came. 

The bursts of power seemed to simmer, to become like a crawling, bubbling mess, so close to boiling over, spitting around your feet instead of steady pulses. The door finally creaked open, when you’d just about given up, wood scraping across the stone tiles to reveal the chaotic darkness inside.

As soon as you had cleared the entrance, the door slammed shut behind you. Only through the flickers of wild shadows could moonlight filter through, all of the lights on but none of the glow reaching you, and it was only by the one velvety shadow curling affectionately around your wrist that you were able to find any guidance through the onyx tornado at all. 

The shadow at your wrist dipped down, twirling between your fingers like the phantom touch of another’s hand in your own, leading you in slow stumbles through the room. The cold of the night hit you before any moonlight did, and it was only when you stumbled through the streams of shadows like a curtain that your lungs let you take a deep breath once again. 

Chilled, cold air wrapped around you like a blanket, bursting through your senses and renewing your mind once again. The touch at your wrist slipped away, a rogue tendril that rejoined the frenzy now that you were safely through the storm, and Azriel stood before you. Hunched at the waist, forearms braced on the stone balcony railing as he stared out at the endless distance. 

He was tense, built like stone and mountains, walls of solid muscle pulled so taut that his wings didn’t even touch the ground. His bare feet clung to the stone, skin pebbled in goosebumps everywhere except his covered legs, swirls of ink over his shoulders disappearing into the night sky. 

Tonight, Azriel wasn’t as flirty as he normally was. Tonight, he’d shut down entirely. That line that had been crossed weeks ago in the training ring felt like a million years ago now as he shut you out. He was so caught up in his own head that you weren’t even sure if he knew you were here. 

“Azriel?”

An answer to your question, as he jumped in shock, straightening to his full height, and twisting to face you. His eyes were dull and yet burning with rage, face contorted into a frown that you weren’t used to. Normally, he offered you a sweet smile, a smirk or a wink. A soft kiss to your forehead or cheek, a brush of one scarred finger over your blushing cheeks. 

None of it came now.  

“What are you doing here?”

You swallowed thickly, throat like sandpaper as you tried to form a response, to form words under the ire of his glare, but refusing to back down. He may be terrifying to the world, but he was the world to you. “Your shadow came when I knocked. I assumed you sent it to open the door.”

His gaze flickered angrily over his shoulder, like in the swirling mass he’d be able to pick out the traitor precisely, a snarl on his lips before he was looking back to you. “I didn’t. You shouldn’t be here.”

It was a dismissal, one he punctuated by turning his back on you and resuming his lean against the railing, breath clouding in the air as he let out a world-weary sigh. “Azriel…”

“Did you not just hear me?” His fingers clenched on the stone, so firmly that his knuckles turned white. The mountains practically shook again with his shout; “Leave!”

That power thrummed out again, heavy bursts that hummed over the building and rattled the glass windows as you stepped closer, flares of glittering blue from his siphons where they sat in a pile, useless to the rippling power now on a table beside him. Daring to take another step closer, he stiffened again.

You moved, closer and closer until you were within reaching distance, the space between you both swallowed up, but you didn’t dare to touch him. His wings twitched on either side of your body, tightening in like they did when he was preparing for a fight. Instead of reaching out, you cleared your throat softly, letting him know just where you were behind him.

He growled, turning slowly, cautious to ensure that no part of him touched any part of you, and the air was all but crackling with unshed tension around you. Insults, curses, harsh words were conveyed in his gaze, everything in an attempt to get you to leave that he had yet to say. 

Before he could say any of them, you raised your hands slowly, making sure he could track every movement as his eye widened, like taming a beast instead of a man. When your palms settled over his cheeks, the preternatural stiffness and stillness he’d taken on melted, his shoulders began to slump, like he was being dragged down into the very earth itself, even as he still towered over you. 

“Az, sweetheart…”

Still, he did not touch you. Even as the anger in his eyes only softened to pain, and the clench of his fists smoothed his hands out from fists by his sides. “You shouldn’t be here.” It wasn’t a threat this time, but instead was a plea, begging you to leave with a tenderness you were familiar with from him.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” You murmured, voice unable to reach above a whisper in fear of shattering the fragile peace. Sweeping your thumbs over his cheekbones, his throat bobbed, eyes held steady with your own. “Let me be here for you.”

“You can’t be here, because I’m not okay. If I hurt you, I don’t think I could ever forgive myself.”

Your heart shattered at the admission, his shadows pulling in closer and closer to you both, no longer afraid of their master but seeking to comfort, a blanket wrapping around the both of you at the base of your legs. 

You didn’t reply verbally, instead, you gave him every chance to pull away, to stop it, as you leaned up, taking your time as you rose, until the breath was shared between you both, his steady breaths now shallow pants. 

Your lips met his jaw first, just to the left of his chin, a soft kiss that wasn’t nearly enough. Another just a fraction higher, and another, until your lips were pressed to his cheek and he was letting out a shaky breath by your ear. 

“Baby…”

“Do you really want me to leave, Az?” Your lip skimmed over his, reciprocated by his pucker but you didn’t give into it just yet, sliding one hand to the back of his neck and the other up over his cheek. Slipping your thumb between your mouths, you stoked over his lips once, his haze fixed. “Tell me you don’t want me here and I’ll go. But, I don’t want you to be alone, when I’m here for you if you want me. I’ll always be here for you.”

The message was clear, and you gave him a single and fleeting kiss to his lips, tearing away from his space and falling back to the flats of your feet. One step back, just enough to think. 

Your foot lifted, never making it as far as a second step away, before he was finally reaching out. His hands gripped at your hips, yanking you forward roughly until you were falling into his body, colliding with cold skin and solid walls of muscle. 

“I don’t want you to go. I just want you here with me. I always want you here with me.” The confession sounded like it pained him, hoarse on a throat yelled raw already, the Azriel you know fighting the darkness enough to break through to you for a moment. “I don’t know if I’m ready to show you this part of myself, I don’t want you to be scared of me. I can’t lose you.”

The hands settled on your hips flexed, like he was trying to be gentler but they came back just as tight, spaces where there would be bruises in the morning. He’d tried so hard to resist touching you at all, but now, you weren’t sure you’d be able to break free even if you wanted to.

Tracing your arms over his arms, back up to hold his face, this time, he tipped into your touch, lashes fluttering shut for just a second as he sucked in a breath. 

“You don’t scare me, Azriel. No part of you scares me. Not your shadows, not your knives, not your moody scowl. I know every part of you, I care for every part of you. This isn’t about me, I’m not the one in need.” You weren’t sure what had happened in Hewn City, only that it must’ve been bad. Whatever he’d seen, whatever he couldn't stop, it was dragging him down into despair and rage. “So, tell me, do you want me to stay or do you want me to go?”

His forehead came down, leaning on your own. “I want you to stay.”

Your noses bumped, a smile forming on your lips as he nuzzled in as close to you a she could get, his arms wrapping around you and holding you firmly to his chest, until your heartbeats echoed together. “You didn’t come to dinner. I was worried about you. Maybe we should get you some food?”

“I don’t want to eat,” He whispered, the words like ice over you as the softness dropped from his tone once again, the wild animal rampaging in his mind taking over once again. One hand was sliding up from your waist now, loose enough to travel over the expanse of your body, across your torso and over your breasts until his fingers were flexing once again, but this time around your throat. 

In one swift movement, you were being spun, back pressing into the unforgiving stone of the wall railing, cold spreading along your skin as your shirt rose behind you. His eyes were darker now, the pretty caramel shade you loved so much almost swallowed entirely by the dark, his lips forming an equally dark smirk to match. But he waited, he was like a predator waiting for the prey to give permission to be hunted. 

And you did. 

A single nod was all it took, until he was surging forwards, lips crashing into your own, a kiss so urgent and fierce that the breath was knocked from your lungs. The implication was clear, everything about Azriel was an open book tonight, unlike his usual way of hiding his emotions. 

He didn’t want gentle, he didn’t need soft. What Azriel needed most was to let out this energy, to use it for something other than self-destruction and hatred, to burn off every angry part of himself in a way that would make him feel good. He’d once told you that your mind was unfocused, on everything but where it needed to be, and he’d helped you clear it with his fingers between your legs. 

His mind needed the opposite, needed to let go of what he was clinging to, to release it. He didn’t need to focus, he needed to let it all go. Perhaps a mindblowing orgasm would do the same for him.

His lips were unyielding against your own, a scrape of his teeth over your lower lip until you yelped, and his tongue plunged into your mouth at the opening. The hand on your neck flexed, your whimpers cut off by his lips and you had no chance at all, drowning in everything front he feel of him to the taste of him. Stolen kisses had nothing on this, this crescendo of overdue emotions and pent-up feelings, and despite it all, there was still a reverence underneath that told you your Azriel was fighting all the while to hold onto you.

Through every gasping breath you managed to take between assaults of his lips, you got less and less oxygen, vision spotting until you felt almost delirious from the burn of your lungs. When his hand loosened just fractionally, his mouth torn from your own only to leave wet marks across your jaw and neck, you heaved in breath while you had the chance. 

“Azriel, let me touch you. Let me help you, make you feel good…”

“Oh, you’ll make me feel good, baby. Don’t worry about that.” His voice was sharp and lethal, like a blade slicing across your skin where he mumbled it into the juncture of your neck. His teeth followed, a bite on your skin, your head tossed, back arching until you were dangling over the balcony, his hand at your neck all that kept you stable. 

You were on the tips of your toes, bared for the man he pulled back, licking over kiss-swollen lips and using a half-lidded gaze to take you in. 

“So fucking beautiful. Inside and out. So kind and sweet and godsdamned perfect. All for me.” He whispered, your heart skipping a beat in your throat because, despite the fire in his gaze, there was honey in his voice. “I hate myself for how much I want to fucking ruin you.”

“I want nothing more than that,” Your promise made his head snap up, his admiration and longing taken over by raw desire and anticipation. Once furrowed brows smoothed out, relaxing enough for him to raise one in solitary judgement. 

“You’re going to regret saying that, sweetheart.” Unlike when you’d said it, the pet name was laced with venom and rough promises, coated in something that made your skin break out with a shudder once again. He closed in on you, even closer, until your toes were hardly touching the floor at all, dangling at his mercy entirely as he hummed to himself, eyes scanning along you as he considered to himself just how he wanted to proceed. “I bet you’d do anything I asked of you right now, wouldn't you? Would you get down on your knees for me, pretty girl?”

“Yes.”

“Would you let me fuck your pretty mouth until I was satisfied?” Your legs clamped together, one of his fingers dragging your lower lip down, biting his own eagerly, before he was slipping two fingers into your mouth, cutting your answer off. His smirk told you he already knew the words you’d have uttered, anyway. “Show me. Show me how good you’d be if it were my cock in there, instead.”

Your lips sealed around his fingers, your tongue dragging along marred and ridged skin within your mouth, as far as you could go until your eyes watered and you were suppressing the urge to gag. His lips parted, gaze fixed on where his digits disappeared between your lips, the thrill of it sending a shock of electricity down your spine, coiling at the base of your stomach with hot need. 

The look on his face was nothing short of worship, even if he was in control, you still held the power. 

Lapping at the skin, you grazed your teeth lightly over his knuckles as you pulled back, his soft growl your only clue of his reaction before bobbing your head back down again. Before you could repeat the motion, however, he was tugging his fingers back, a wet pop and a trail of saliva snapping, and the hand on your throat tightened to lift your head up for him again. Your sights clashed, and he already looked about as ruined as you felt. 

He was shaking with need, you could see the vibrations in his shoulders, the hum of the occasional shadow that darted up high enough to dance over his shoulders, before joining the pool at your waists. 

Those two wet fingers dragged down, a shock of coldness over your bare skin before his fingers were snapping the elastic of your leggings against your hips. He only chuckled at your gasp, before his hand was dipping under this time, fingers teasing down between your legs until he was dragging a moan from you at the featherlight touch over your clit. 

“Oh, look at that. You didn’t need to get my fingers all wet for me after all, you’re fucking dripping for me.” Swirling two digits through the wetness already accumulated, your head fell back, a whimper of his name carried away on the winds. 

“You once told me that I was too in my head. You helped me focus, just like this. Let me help you unfocus now. Let me touch you, let me make you feel good.” One hand gripped at his forearm around your throat, gentle but firm, holding you secure where you all but balanced over the edge. The other reached for his hand, hidden under your leggings and the swirl of shadows as he dipped one finger into your core, sinking it slowly into you. “Az…”

“Making you feel good, sweetheart, watching you come undone is what’s going to help me. I want you to scream my name so loud I can’t hear any of the bad thoughts, just you.” As he spoke, he pulled his touch back, only to snap back in with both fingers instead of one, and your back arched again with a cry of his name. 

Again and again, his fingers dragged over every spot within you that made yous hake only to snap back against you, not letting the limits of your clothing stop him at all. Then again, it never had before, either. Just like in that training ring, he started to tease. The palm of his hand over your clit, grazing with each thrust that was never quite enough. Your hips rolled down to meet him, scrabbling, desperate for more, and his condescending laugh was hidden in your skin, but you felt every piece of it. 

Heat flooded your skin, the begging you were rapidly approaching sitting like bitter acid on the tip of your tongue. Your fingers scratched anywhere you could reach, clinging to him while demanding more, thanks and request all in one. You could feel it, the whisper of pleasure over your nerves, so close but not enough, and a sob fell from your lips as his taunting. 

He knew exactly what he was doing.

With a simple flick of his wrist, he was twisting his hand, reaching deeper, using all the things he’d learned about you like muscle memory to find every spot that he needed to.

“Please, Azriel!”

“Please, what?” He echoed, pulling back enough to set his forehead on your own again, lips brushing, feeling your pants wash over his face, letting him taste everything he did to you from your needy whines and gasps. “Tell me what you want.” He threw your own words back in your face, you’d made him ask you to stay, and now he wanted you to ask him to make you come. 

Your lips stopped the words, another cry of his name, shaky and pathetic as he held your orgasm just out of reach, his fingers slowing to almost a stop, barely moving at all, and your frustration was so palpable you felt like electricity was jumping from your skin to his own, every hair standing on end. “Azriel! Please, please, let me come!”

“There’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

With the perfect crook of his fingers, Azriel had you shaking, hurtling towards an orgasm that would leave your mind spinning, head empty when that was what you were supposed to be doing for him, but the pleasure was too heady for you to care. 

His fingers buried deep in your cunt, his lips on your neck, tongue and teeth stinging and soothing as he marked you, mumbled praises interspersed with filthy promises, it was all too much. With a heavy swipe of his thumb over your clit, his name finally fell in a true scream from your lips. 

He didn’t let up, not when your clit began to throb or walls pulsed. Not until you were shaking so hard through your orgasm that you were all but crawling up and over the edge of the balcony did he stop, leaving you unable to breathe for an entirely different reason as he wrung your body out for pleasure.

His hand finally left you, catching you at the waist when your knees buckled, his fingers tucking into his mouth to suck the taste of your from them, a lewd act that had your cheeks flushing with heat and your stomach tingling with need again already. Clinging onto him, your nails left crescent moons in the exposed skin of his chest, red marks on his forearms where you’d clawed at him, but he didn’t seem to care. If anything, he looked wilder now then he had before. 

“That… that was even better than last time.” You panted out. He’d used all those tips and tricks he’d learned about your body from the last time to play you like his favourite game this time, driving you to an earth-shattering orgasm with a few touches and buttons pushed, knowing you too well.

Your only reply was a harsh kiss, his tongue forcing its way between your lips to let you taste yourself as he held you solidly to him. Your lips were slow and languid where his were hurried and desperate, mind still working far too quickly, still holding onto so much, the night nowhere near over if he hadn't started to let it go. 

A shadow swiped across the back of your legs, your body sinking slowly towards the ground as this time he doesn’t bother to correct you, this time, it was intentional. Your lips are torn apart, your knees meeting the stone as he sets you down, with enough care that your teeth don’t clatter and your knees aren’t cut, a flash of your love in there despite the monster taking over his body. 

“Gods, I knew you’d look good on your knees for me. Always so pretty, baby. So fuckin’ pretty.” He swept your hair over your shoulders, a finger under your chin to tip your head up, shadows so high around you that if he willed it they’d go over your head entirely, smothering you within them and taking you prisoner. “Bet you’d look good if your mouth was stuffed with my cock too, huh? Shall we find out?”

Your legs clenched at his words, a dizzy wave of arousal slamming into you at full force. You’d thought about Az bossing you around before, the voice he used at training or on missions, hoping he’d one day turn it on you between the sheets too. This was so much colder and crueller than that, it was almost mocking, like he truly was taking you for the toy you’d offered yourself up to be, his to use for the night until he felt better, and he wore that role like a second skin.

His leathers sit low on his hips, sharp hipbones exposed to you along with the deep dip of his muscled stomach, trailing down with a patch of hair from his navel to disappear between the laces. Leaning in, you left a light kiss over the soft hairs just above the hemline, a hiss on his lips as he watched you, and you watched him through your lashes.

Another kiss, this one to his hipbone, and then to the other, his hand clenching and unclenching by his side as you left scattered kisses along the base of his stomach, tongue occasionally flicking out to tease. When he’d seemingly had enough, his hand settled on your head, fingers weaving into your hair, gathering the strands up threateningly in his fist but not tugging yet, just making his presence known, taking back every shred of that power. 

Sliding your hands up his legs and over the front of his trousers, he let out a low moan at the pressure of your palms, his hips rolling into your touch as his erection strained against the fabric underneath. Your fingers toyed with the ends of each lace holding them shut, barely managing to contain him now. 

“Go ahead, pretty girl.” His words were powerful but his voice was straining, watching through hooded eyes as you undid the laces slowly, unable to hide the smirk on your face as you teased him. Inching them down a little at a time, more and more of him was revealed to you, until the leathers were tight around the middle of his thighs, his cock red and angry, standing tall before you, shining with the smears of precum that already escaped him. 

When you leaned in, hands still clasped at his thighs, only to leave a tantalising lick from his base to his tip, he growled. You did it again, enjoying the way the danger of riling him up anymore seemed to make you tremble with want. You cleaned the taste of him from his skin, salty and rich, merely a hint of what he’d truly taste like and yet your mouth was already watering, begging for more, needing it more than you needed air to breathe. 

Another lick, and his restraint finally snapped. A shocked sound left your lips as he yanked your head back hard by the first in your hair, taking his cock within his other hand, and slapping it against your cheek. “Open up, before I fucking make you.”

Your jaw fell open of its own command, lips parting and tongue sitting flat, and there was far too much pride in his gaze as he grinned down at you, letting the head of his cock hover millimetres from your lips. 

“Say please.”

“Please.” You were breathless, the word rushing from you, and the grin on his face was wild enough that your stomach felt like you’d fallen through the sky. The same flipping and turning that Azriel would do when he carried you through the air, just to get a rise out of you. Somehow, he managed to do the same thing when you were on the ground, too. “Please, Az, let me make you feel better.”

“Alright, baby, I’ll let you help.” With that, he was pressing himself between your lips, hot skin sliding across your tongue, the taste of him the only thing you could focus on as he slipped into your mouth. He didn’t stop, not until he was tapping against the back of your throat, a deep moan falling from his lips as he struggled to keep his eyes open, to keep his focus on you as your lips sealed tightly around him. “Fuck, sweetheart. I’ve always dreamed about what your mouth would feel like, but this is so much better than all of it.”

Your moan was muffled around him, tongue tracing the throbbing vein along the underside of his cock, and the hand in your hair tightened until tears were lining your eyes. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His hips rocked a little, pulling back only to push back in, setting a slow pace, fucking your mouth a little more each time. He built back up again, his smirk growing with every gag you gave him. He was teasing himself and you, never daring to push any further but showing exactly what he wanted, exactly where he wanted to be, and with another sharp pull of your hair to angle your head up for himself, he took it. 

Pushing himself in, he kept going, until your nose was brushing against the base of his cock, and breathing became impossible. Choking around the thick length filling your throat as he held you there, his other hand came to cup your face, squeezing roughly until he was pulling out entirely, giving you a few seconds to gasp for breath, lungs burning and head spinning.

“Is this what you wanted, huh? When you offered to help me? Wanted to cry, choke on my cock in your pretty mouth?” He was trying to scare you, to see if it was all too much, to see if you would go back on your words and leave him. His face was like stone but he couldn't hide the flash of insecurity in his eyes, and you shook your head. This time, you moved before he could control you again. 

Surging forward, you pushed past everything you knew, nails digging into his thighs and his knees shaking as you caught him by surprise, burying his length down your throat once again, and the stream of shaky curses left his lips. With a weak growl, he scrabbled to regain control, to think around the smooth of your tongue at his base, the lips sealed tightly, the tight swallows at his tip as salty precum filled your mouth. 

Tugging on your hair, the muscles of his legs tightened, all the way over his ass and up to his wings as he pulled them taut to his body. Stroking his thumb over your cheek, he pressed against himself through the skin, holding you in place even as you tried to pull back. “Shit, sweetheart, look at you. You even look pretty when you cry.”

Catching one tear with his thumb, he raised it up, licking it from his finger and allowing you to pull back, to free one hand and stroke his spit-soaked length as you caught your breath. “Just for you, Az.”

Your voice was rough, croaky as you tries to speak around the dull ache so worth it, when he looked down with heat in his eyes and parted lips in shock. “Better be. You’re my girl.”

You lapped at him, using your fingers for everything you weren’t mouthing at, alternating between teasing his head until his legs shook before working your way back down, until your tongue was smoothing across the tops of his balls and he was letting out breathy sighs of your name, only to repeat it all over. Again and again you went, until a steady line was flowing from his tip, every drop being caught as he leaked, your scalp stinging from the grounding grip he had on you.

He was growing more and more impatient, no longer the patient man you fell for as he tried to guide you to where he wanted you, adoring gaze turning wicked once again. “I’m gonna’ cum, and if you keep teasing me, you won’t be getting the same pleasure again.”

You stilled, the promise in his gaze of more was enough to make you give in, the tone of his voice a dark threat underneath. Remaining still, your lips parted, tongue hanging a little before him and the widening of his eyes was enough to show his arousal at your obedience. With a single move, he was back in your mouth, fucking at a sloppy pace as he chased his high, your nails clawing at his thighs to keep him in place, your name an endless moan on his lips, curses and praises thrown in as his head fell back. 

Once taut wings were now hanging loose, his entire body shaking, before he came; “Don’t swallow yet.”

Hot bursts of cum coated your tongue, and he held you in place, his body jerking through the intensity of his orgasm, until it was all too much, and he was pulling back. The last of his release spattered across your lips, sitting heavy in your mouth as he panted. The hand in your hair finally slipped out, your eyes almost crossing at the relief of it, and his hand slipped down to rub at the pearly beads coating your lips, pressing them into your skin before tipping your chin up.

“Let me see it.”

Parting your lips, he let out a broken moan at the sight, the coat of his release over your tongue, and nodding his head. His cock twitched, never softening but only bouncing more, an angry red beginning to take over as his need still recessed evidently, watching you swallow before helping you to your feet. 

As you stared up at him, he smiled, dipping down to kiss your sticky lips, licking the taste of himself from them as you panted against his mouth. He said he wanted to ruin you, and yet you’d never expected this. You were taken apart, piece by piece until you were nothing but a shattered mess in his hands, and he was all that was holding you together. 

Your thighs were slick with your arousal, rubbing together unashamedly as he kissed the taste of himself from your tongue, a soft contrast to the bruising grip he’d had on your hips, your neck, your hair, only moments ago. His mouth trailed up, a sweet, wet kiss left on each cheek, before his nose was coming back to bump with yours. 

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect.” The words came with a sharp smack across your ass, the skin stinging, threatening to leave a mark there too, and your body jolted into his. “Since you’ve been so good, I’ll let you choose how you take my cock first. You’ve got one minute, and I expect you naked on my bed, in whatever position you want it.”

Another smack, and you were being dismissed, stumbling over shaky legs as excitement coursed through your body. Stripping your shirt off and over your head, you left a trail of clothing as you went, bra next, then your leggings, shoes and socks gone and panties last, until you found yourself at the baseboard, staring at the large bed designed for maximum Illyrian comfort, threatening to swallow you whole when you crawled onto it.

Shadows swirled around you, traces up your legs until you shivered, a cool swipe over your heated core, through your messy hair, tweaking at taut nipples until you whimper, mind a frenzy as you tried to work out what to do.

Azriel moved like water in the night, silent and invisible, until he was pressed up behind you, one hand splaying over your waist and the other shifting your hair over one shoulder. A disapproving noise left his mouth as he lowered it, pressed a kiss to your skin, and your head fell to the side to give him more space, eyes fluttering shut.

“What did I say?”

Your lips fell open to respond, to explain yourself, but all that came out with a surprised cry of his name as his teeth clamped down against your skin, pain and pleasure blurring into one. He licked across the mark, before doing it again, never enough to break the skin, but enough to leave his imprints on you. Marked, bitten like two wild creatures in the heat of it all, and that was exactly how you felt. Trembling in his arms, he shushed you quietly. 

“I told you where I wanted you, you didn’t listen.”

“I couldn't decide!” His lips were skimming your skin again, the other side now, teeth grazing, but pausing at your words. “I’ve thought about you so much, about this, I didn’t know what I wanted most.”

He pulled back, kissing his way back up your shoulder until he was nuzzling a hot kiss into the skin of your neck, your panting the only sound to fill the room as he turned your face towards him with one finger. A soft kiss was placed on your lips, no tongue or teeth but full of emotion, and he barely even pulled back to speak, “I love you.”

Your eyes snapped open, meeting his as a cold shock broke through hot, hazy lust, but he wasn’t ready to linger. The darkness still had a tight grip on him, those few words breaking through didn’t stop the tidal wave of need, because your mind had yet to catch up before your cheek was pressing into the bedsheets, hips being pulled up as Azriel manhandled you to the centre of the bed.

Your fingers grasped at cotton sheets, knees digging in for purchase on the soft fabric, as he layered himself over you, kissing at the top of your spine and surrounding you entirely. His wings were like a blanket, covering you on either side, his arms on your hips, gripping tightly. Now, you could feel all of him. He must’ve shed his clothes when you did, because that thick length was pulsing against your core, pressed up and rocking in slow motions as he created the most delicious friction, your eyes rolling.

When the head of his cock bumped against your swollen clit, a pornographic sound left your lips, something sinful and dark, and he chuckled as he left little nips along your skin as he shifted back. 

His slap across your ass was electricity sparking over your skin, continuing to abuse your clit while giving you nothing at all, clenching emptily as he left a matching spank to the other side. “You look so good decorated with my handprints.”

“Azriel, please, stop teasing, I need you.” Your cries only made him laugh, holding you firm as you rocked back to meet him, desperately seeking something more, and embarrassed heat flushed over your cheeks, blending into tear-soaked skin and pretty love-bites. 

“You don’t need me, you need this,” He taunted, lining himself up and fucking into you with one quick thrust. A scream left you as he did, stretching you so perfectly that your eyes crossed at the intrusion, a burning as he let you settle, to adjust to his length, that left you squirming, hips rubbing against his as he sat at full depth. “I bet you feel better now, sweetheart, full of my cock. Does that make you happier?”

“So, so happy…” Your babble was senseless, tailing off into more pleas of his name as he set a steady rhythm. 

The last of that feral anger came through, unhinged and needy as he fucked out every bit of pent-up anger. His thrusts were brutal, hips snapping into yours hard enough that you were pushed up the bed, gripping at the bedsheets to hold steady. Everything else in the room, in your mind, slipped away, until you could only focus on the sloppy rhythm of his pounding into you, every connection, every thrust as he hit spots inside of you that made you see stars. “So godsdamned wet for me, so warm and soft. If my heart gave out from fucking you, and I’d die happy.”

“Oh, gods…” 

“No gods are watching over you now, my love, just me. If you’re gonna’ moan anyone’s name, I want it to be mine.” Your toes were curling with the pleasure, the knuckles in your fingers aching as you clung onto the sheets for strength, body shaking. He left kisses up and down your spine, bites and spanks until every part of your body felt like it had been touched, been played with, another part taken away only to be put back better. 

He was breathing just as hard as you were, moans of your name coming out in broken sighs, his hand closing over your own as he fell atop you with the sheer intensity of it all. Your bodies were moulded together like you were made for it, his face tucked into the crook of your neck, skin covered in a light sheen of sweat that made everything so much more erotic. 

The scent of him overwhelmed you, stronger and deeper with his arousal, the smell of sex in the room thick and heavy, and you cried out his name as it all blended into something indescribable. 

Reaching his other hand around you, scarred fingertips skimmed over the apex of your thighs, a few messy circles was all it took to send you spiralling over the edge. “Oh, fuck, Az!”

When you came, it was like a storm crashing onto the beaches, your body spasming until not even your knees could hold you up, collapsing down into the bedding and freeing yourself of his movements for only a second, before his body was following you down. His hand, still trapped under your body kept going, until moans turned into cries and sobs, pleasure you couldn’t take anymore, it was so good. 

Your body was lax, pliant in his arms as he flipped you over, his for the taking as he pried your shaking thighs apart to bare your sopping cunt to himself again. 

“Need y’to give me one more, my love. Can’t get enough of your pussy, can you give me another?” His lips closed over your own, and his tongue playing with yours could barely count as a kiss, your mind hardly worked, just a filthy collision of his lips with your own. “One more, yeah?”

“Yeah, Az, I can do it. I want it…” Lifting up your legs to latch at his hips, your heels dug into his firm ass, pressing him forward again, and he took the hint. In one easy movement, his hips were cradled between your legs, his hands on either side of your head and he was sheathing himself inside of you once again. 

Your back arched, a scream in his ear as his head fell forwards, damp foreheads pressing together as he dove back into a messy pace. What had already been uncontrollable before was now a chaotic mess, jerks of his hips as he frantically followed his own high, curses spilling from him and muscles tense.

When he couldn't hold himself up anymore, he dropped to his forearms, putting everything he had into those final movements, the grinding of his body lighting you up. Your nipples scarped his chest, the base of his cock thumping your clit with every sporadic movement, and your screams became silent as white-hot bliss flooded your body. 

He gave your front the same treatment, teeth and lips leaving no spot untouched, committing you to memory with his mouth as he left stains and splotches across your skin with his rough touch. 

“Azriel, Azriel, Azriel!” Like a chant, you were incapable of saying anything else, even your own name escaped you as you focus on him, the vision of him before you, jaw clenched and eyes sparkling, never looking away from you for even a second. Your body was utterly boneless, your finger shaking as you reached up over his shoulder, clamping your teeth down against his shoulder the same way he had done to you, and brushing your lips down over his wing.

That was it, a soft stroke and a cruel bite, and he was shattering above you, a burst of power unlike any of the others, the door rattling and the winds trembling as he came. An explosion, the feeling of his heat filling you up sent another orgasm cresting through your body, shuddering up your spine until your head was pressing into the bed, his head in your neck. He never stopped moving, riding both of you through your peaks until it was too much, finally coming to a stop, still tucked deep inside of you, and his body collapsed down on top of yours. 

His head remained where it was, breathing evening out as he took steady breaths. His heart was pressed to your stomach, the beat of it synching to your own as both of you began to even back out. The chill from the open patio doors finally started to take effect, swiping the heat from the room and taking the intoxicating smell of sex and your combined scents with it, leaving only the palpable tension between you both. 

Your body was still trembling, still spasming with the occasional twitch, a feeling flooding your body that you knew would take hours to go away as you pulled yourself back together from the way Azriel had torn you apart. 

Your fingers were tracing up and down his spine when you felt him stiffen, when the shallow breathing that had almost convinced you he’d fallen asleep was a ragged gasp. He lifted his fingers, pulling back a fraction only to push your jaw to the side, tracing across your skin slowly, from one patch to another, the more he distanced himself. 

Rocking back onto his knees, his length finally pulled from your sensitive core, a sound of true pain now leaving you as the soreness began to kick in, and he winced as he settled into with one hand holding him up above you. He didn’t look down, not for a second to the seed of his own dripping from you and ruining the bedsheets, but instead, an anguished look took over his face as he traced softly over your skin. 

Propping yourself up weakly on your arms, you watched him, brows furrowed in confusion as he became more and more hurt. 

“Oh, fuck, baby. I-I’m so sorry…”

Now you understood, watching him trace the tip of his index finger over a bite on your shoulder, down to a bruise on the side of your breast, made by his lips in the throes of passion. “Azriel-”

“What did I do to you?” His voice cracked, the spiralling already starting, and you freed your arms, collapsing back into the bed only to pull you with him, ignoring his resistance and tugging his body back against your own. 

“You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to do!”

“I hurt you!” He sniffed, the outburst watery and broken, and your head shook urgently, leaving kisses dotted along his cheeks when he pulled back enough to look at you.

“Stop it, stop it right now, Azriel.” You rarely took such a tone with him, the pain on his face only worsening with confusion as he stared. “You didn’t hurt me. You gave me every chance to leave and I chose to stay. What we just did was fucking fantastic, and even if you were locked up in your head, you were here with me the entire time. These marks mean nothing, because every touch was so full of love, Azriel. I could feel it. These marks don’t mean you hurt me, they show me just how much you love me.”

His lips were pursed tight, still attempting to pull away, and you had no choice. Using all that training he’d put you through, in the midst of his distraction, you flipped him over, cautious to avoid catching his wings, and leaving him sprawled out on his back. Settling into his lap, your hands found his shoulders, pinning him to the bed and pressing your forehead to his.

“I love you, Azriel.” His eyes widened, swollen and kiss-bruised lips parting, and a smile finally tugged at your own. “I love you. I love you so much, and I wanted to be here for you. If you don’t stop, you’re gonna’ break my fucking heart, because it’ll mean you don’t trust yourself for me, to know what we need.”

“Of course, I trust you.” His whisper came immediately, setting hesitant hands over his marks on your waist, holding you reverently instead of demandingly now, tugging you a little closer to his chest. “I just… fuck, seeing you like this at my doing-”

“I think I left my fair share of marks on you too.” You dragged one finger over a scratch on his bicep, a hiss through his teeth as he looked down at it. Looked down at all of them. His marks would be gone by morning, that Illyrian healing already kicking in, but the look of awe growing on his face would never fade.  “This one,” Tracing your finger beside the scratch instead of over it, you drew his attention back to you, “I gave you this one because I love the way you smile at me.”

You moved to another, tracing a bite on his shoulder where your teeth had sunk in to hold back a scream. 

“I gave you this one because you never let me feel sad or alone.”

“I gave you this one,” He cut off, voice a little shaky as he tried to rewrite hatred to love, running his thumb over a kiss by your nipple, but never dropping your gaze. “I gave you this one because I love how brave you are.”

You smiled, his own smile coming back, as you looped your arms around his neck. “See? These are not marks of hurt, they’re marks of love. They’re called love-bites for a reason, you know?”

He only chuckled, tracing his fingers over the reddened skin of your ass, still raw from his palm. “I gave you these spanks for making cheesy jokes.”

“You love them.”

“No, but I love you.” He spoke, catching your lips a second later in the gentlest kiss yet. He leaned back, taking you with him, his mouth never leaving your own as he settled back into the pillows, shadows closing the balcony doors and settling like a blanket around you both. “Thank you for being here for me.”

“I’ll always be here for you, Az.” You shifted, settling your cheek on his shoulder, and pulling the real blankets across your bodies for warmth, his arms curling protectively around you to hold you there. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I don’t want anything like what happened to ever touch you.” His lips brushed your forehead, and you pressed a little further into his embrace. “I feel better, though. So much better, just for having you here in my arms. I don’t want you to ever leave them.”

“I guess I could stay for a while.”

“I want you to stay forever.” His mumble came through a lazy breath and the cloud of sleep hanging over you both, exhaustion weighing in at last, but you smiled despite it all.

“Forever it is, then.”

[motelofmermaids]

finnick odair discovers the deal you made with coriolanus snow during the quarter quell, the time when both of you were reaped.

"stop," you pleaded, backing against the wall, your breath catching in your chest. “stop looking at me like that.” finnick cornered you, his eyebrows pinched together in anger, and his mouth set in a straight line. "looking at you like what, hm?" unable to maintain eye contact, your eyes scanned the room, avoiding his piercing look, that pure disappointment that shattered you.

finnick odair, the man you've loved since your shared experiences began. the man who’s pulled you up and down in the obstacles of life. finnick odair, who waited for you, fought for you, killed for you so that he could kiss you once more. now, exasperating huffs into your face, his hands flexed with overwhelmed emotions.

a lump in your throat made speaking difficult; you felt like you were choking on regret with the way his gaze scrutinized you. "stop lookin’ at me with… with those eyes," you winced, "like i could just disappear, and you wouldn't care why." finnick stepped back, his expression morphing into something more painful than you could imagine—softened brows, raised almost; eyes examining your face, your eyes, your trembling lips. his frown took you down to the depths of hell.

"what?" you knew you deserved this, but you couldn't find the words, the apologies you'd built up for years had turnt into pathetic excuses. "why," finnick began before turning around, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "why would you say that? why would you think that? i don't understand. you lied to me, led me—"

you snapped, walking up to him and grabbing his arm in a wordless plea. "i didn't, finnick. i didn't mean to. it was never my intention to trick you; it was never for show," you cried out, eyes wide and raging. "i made a mistake. i fucked up so bad. please look at me. how do i make you stay?" finnick looked down at you, his mouth parted, and the intensity in his eyes faltered.

he was silent, hesitating with his own thoughts. you took it as an invitation for you to keep talking. "he threatened you, threatened me, my family—threatened us all. i don't know why i didn't tell you sooner… but i was scared; we didn't know each other. i didn't trust it. i took his deal for my family." finnick slowly turned towards you, distrust and love crashing together like an unpredictable storm at sea.

"were we real?" he croaked, needing the reaffirmation for the sake of his blinded heart. his opposite hand gently covered yours that tightly gripped at his arm. you took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment to ground yourself with his touch. "we were— we are. i love you, finn. i love you more than anything." he leaned down, tears threatening his reddened eyes. "i love you, sweetheart." yet he was pulling away, and you felt like you were going to throw up. "but i need time."

[malleusfucker]

private study session

i have a shit ton of uni work but is writing smut of this man more important i think so

i live and breathe for asshole malleus y’all don’t even understand that man is a smug bastard

synopsis: your grades have been plummeting. bad. so much so that if you don’t improve, you might have to end up retaking the yearーwhich you definitely don’t want. no matter how hard you study and revise by yourself, nothing seems to stick. that was until you built up the courage to ask your close friend, malleus, if he could tutor you.

warnings: smut/nsfw, degrading, choking, lowkey hate sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mating press, reader is afab but no gender or pronouns are explicitly specified

word count: 2.8k

“oh-ho? and what makes you believe that my time will not be wasted?"

“it won’t, i swear! …please, malleus, just this once. i might have to retake the year if i don’t improve.” you shifted your feet nervously, continuing your embarrassing attempt at trying to convince the dragon fae to lend you just a slither of his intelligence. you weren’t one to beg, but at this pointーyou had to. of course, being the only non-magic student to have miraculously enrolled into NRC, it was a given your grades would be subparーbut not to this extent.

"and we certainly don't want that, do we?"

malleus's tone was condescending, apparently relishing the sight of you pleading for his help in front of him. his lips curved into a grin, and he cocked his head to one side. “i mean… that would be unfortunate if you needed to repeat the year. i do enjoy the lessons i have with you, child of man.”

your eyes widened as if he were finally giving in to your wish, like a puppy seeing a treat for the first time. “then? then…!? will you help me, malleus?”

malleus seemed thoughtfully contemplative for a few seconds. you were sure you saw a glimpse of something in his eyes for a single second. something menacing.

“fine. i’ll accept your request, child of man. you’re quite the lucky one, you know? not everyone can say that they’ve had me as their personal tutor.”

personal tutor, huh? it didn’t sound bad when he put it like that.

it was 6 p.m. malleus agreed to assist you back at your own dormーwhich surprised you slightly, but you didn’t mind. if anything, it only meant that evening was about to be spent without any disturbances.

…

it became clear that malleus was going to spend hours tutoring you like he stated he would. you sat pitifully looking at the pages in front of you as he poured information into your ears that amounted to little more than background noise. he was in the seat next to you. his body, though, was stiff. with one leg over the other and his arms crossed, it felt like being lectured about how dumb you are. 

maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

but it was probably too late to back out of it now.

snap

“are you ignoring me, child of man?”

as you heard his fingers snap at you, you quickly brought your eyes back into focus to see a face brimming with frustration and irritation.

“were you even paying attention to a single word i said?”

malleus was furious. with a tone laced with something much more than frustration, you knew you messed up big. the words that came out of his mouth only made the hairs on your arms prick up, feeling your mouth get dry as he leaned in close to your face, seeing the rage in his expression ever more clearly.

he was close. too close. you were so uneasy that you were certain he would smite you on the spot if you said something stupid.

“yes..! i swear i was malleus!”

you felt his stare burn right through you, feeling as though he’d bite off your head any second. all that you could hope was that if you said “yes” enough, maybe he’d let you off easier.

that wasn’t the case.

“am i boring you? is a human’s time for daydreaming more important than mine?”

you started to shake in your seat, your heart in your throat.

“you have a lot of nerve, child of man. taking my generosity for granted, really, you are bold.”

he drew even nearer until his face was almost brushing yours. all you could do was tremble and pray that he wouldn't actually murder you at this very moment. suddenly feeling paralysed, you couldn't even gather the energy to defend yourself.

he pressed a finger on your foreheadーhardーwatching you practically unravel in front of him.

“what will it take, child of manーfor you to listen? how can we make the time left today not utterly pointless?”

he remained far too close to your face for your liking. whilst your body was about to give way any second, you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up for some strange reason. you’ve never seen malleus so close up before, it was almost an honour. you wanted to shake these stupid, borderline dangerous thoughts away, but you almost felt in awe at the anger he was expressing to youーas bad as that was.

“hoh? got nothing to say? heh, it’s almost as if you’re trying to anger me. you’re certainly the first to do such a thing, child of man.”

he moved his finger from off your forehead to your jaw, resting it under your chin as he slowly tilted your head up to look at him. you gave him a glazed-over look. it was as if every single thought in your head suddenly turned off, rendering you speechless and still. feeling his finger touch underneath your chin, you couldn’t help but sweat, your face becoming more flushed by the second.

“hmm, your face is heating up. am i embarrassing you, child of man?”

malleus was. 

but even with all that embarrassment that was thoroughly washing through your entire body, you could sense a faint sensation of excitement starting to bubble. were you the masochistic type? did you actually enjoy getting humiliated by him? perhaps not, but seeing him get so riled up over youーhis face inches away from your ownーhey, maybe dying at the hands of someone like him wouldn’t be…too bad.

though, in the end, you could never hide things from malleus. if he couldn't detect your excitement from your face, something else revealed it for you. the slits in his eyes thinned, he glared at you. he could smell, ever so slightly, a hint of your arousal.

“...my. do you have a death wish?”

as soon as those words left his lipsーyou blinkedーsuddenly finding yourself having been thrown onto your desk, your back slamming onto the hardwood.

you gasped as you abruptly came out of your trance and felt him securely hold your legs as he towered over you. malleus wasted no time in entertaining those lewd thoughts your body was so clearly showingーwith a simple snap of his fingers, your clothes vanished and fell beside you. to say you were shocked to see this sudden change in him would be an understatement. you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, with how fast everything was moving, you could say he was eager butーwith that expression…

it looked as if your mere presence disgusted him.

malleus slid his hand up over your neck, wrapping his long fingers around it before slowly squeezing as he spoke.

“heh. child of man, give me one good reason why i shouldn’t kill you right here.”

your body was shaken to its core. that voiceーthat sentence alone made you feel faint. you pathetically flailed your arms around, weakly trying to release the grip he was slowly tightening on your neck. the pressure around your throat distracted you from how vulnerable you looked under him right now. naked and shiveringーmalleus started to grin and leaned close to you, gently planting a kiss on your forehead. it was strange. the kiss felt so soft on you, yet the pain you felt merely inches away couldn’t have been more different.

he laid tiny wet kisses down your forehead and jaw before snatching his other hand and slipping it between your legs, gently teasing your wet folds. something about the contrast between his touch and his kisses made you melt; you felt yourself slump lower and lower onto the desk as you embarrassedly leaked all over it. “...malleus- i’m- i’m sorry-” you wheeze, still trying to release the vicious hold he had on your neck.

his face stayed close to you, and he suddenly licked a long stripe up your neck and jaw. the sudden sensation made you twitch, moaning slightly at how warm and wet his forked tongue felt against your bare flesh.

“it’s all too late to apologise now.”

“tutoring you was an utter waste of time. now, i’d much rather try something else.”

before you could even attempt to reply, he let his hand from your neck free. you gaspedーsuddenly feeling your naked, trembling body be dragged to the edge of the desk. your mind was racing so much that you failed to hear the sound of his belt suddenly slamming against the ground. you stared off at the ceiling, your lip quivering. the whole thing seemed like a dream, albeit a strange one. your rational mind refused to accept the reality of the situationーbut your body...had never felt so hot before. it felt unbearable; you needed to be relieved. and luckily, malleus was there, leaning over with his gaze searing through you evermore.

he forcefully propped your shaking legs up against his waist with one hand, immediately snatching your face to make you look at him. however, for a moment, it looked as if he had forgotten what had led you two to be in such a predicament and simply loomed over you, staring at you. his gaze almost switched to a softer one, feeling the urge to gently caress your cheek. though that was quickly discarded, and immediately that familiar look of disgust soon reappeared on his face.

malleus moved his hips closer to yoursーfinally feeling his hard erection brush against your twitching core; you wincedーwishing you could throw your arms around him and bring him even closer to you.

malleus, however, was not in the mood to be so courteous to you and certainly didn't want to take up any more time than had already been lost.

without any preparation, you suddenly felt malleus drive one of his cocks into you. you screamed out, feeling him sliding and bottoming out of you with just one thrust. swiftly, with three of his fingers then violently thrust into your mouth, you gagged and choked, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks, 

“bite down. good students know not to be noisy.”

you tried to pathetically choke out to malleus that it was too muchーyour body shook and convulsed from the agonising splitting pain of his long, hard cock bullying its way into you, poking and prodding at your cervix. you sank your nails into the desk, biting down hard on his fingers as he pushed and slammed his hips into you, your cries for help becoming louder by the second. within minutes of him thrusting into you, you felt pressure rapidly build in your stomach, causing you to clench and squeeze against him. 

“oh? what’s this? don’t tell me you’re going to cum already?”

you wailed, but his insulting remarks just made you feel worse about your own increasing arousal. still choking on his fingers, you nodded frantically when you then felt sharp cramping throughout your body as if you were about to cum. he swiftly slipped his fingers out while he was still thrusting into you just so he could hear your pitiful cries. 

you felt your body shudder against the desk as a wave of scorching hot pleasure swept over you, pouring and seeping down onto the hardwood under you. you tried to catch your breath, gagging and choking as you already felt so sore and painful from just one orgasm. but it was obvious that malleus wasn't through with you just yet. it was, if anything, just the start.

he gave you time to calm down, your breath slowly easing as you shut your eyes, thinking this torture had reached its end. 

of course, malleus would not let you off that lightly. his rage persisted and seeing you believe that this punishment was over just made him more spiteful.

he leaned in, his breath hot, “i’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself. now put your arms around me.” his tone was once again mocking, but this time it felt more serious, like everything you did would simply enrage him more.

he suddenly forced you into a mating press, your legs wedged up against your chest as you struggled to wrap your trembling arms around his head. you cried out and started to think that your body wouldn’t be able to handle thisーthat he might actually break you.

as he started to softly drive into you, drawing more weak and muffled groans from your lips, your hands connected to the base of his horns, clutching and scraping your nails across them. he started off slow, almost giving a relaxing quality to his thrusts as he softly kissed your forehead and smiled sweetly against your face, much to your surprise. your body relaxed as a result of his sudden shift in attitude, enjoying the fleeting moments of him lovingly moving his hips against yours, which were only going to abruptly come to an end.

your eyes were closed, not being able to see the horrific smile malleus suddenly had across his face. you assumed that the strange sadistic side of him had long since vanished, as evident by your voice becoming moans of pure pleasure rather than of pain. regardless of his disposition, he enjoyed seeing you this way. seeing how you moaned so quietly and softly only made the urge to completely ruin you that much stronger.

“are you enjoying this?”

you slowly opened your eyes, malleus still gently pushing into you as you lazily nodded, whimpering as the pleasure inside you continued to become greater. “mmm…malleus. it feels so good…don’t stop.” 

“heh. so you think you can tell me what to do? your disrespect truly knows no bounds.”

your growing sense of pleasure abruptly gave way to a dreadful fear as he pushed your legs higher onto your chest and over his shoulders, making it clear that he was absolutely certain you couldn't get away. not understanding what he meant, your lip began to quiver, only for him to rid you of your confusion by suddenly thrusting into you aggressively. you screamed out, tears soon welling in your eyes again as he gave you no time to acclimate to the sudden pace. he licked his lips, savouring the view of you struggling and wailing underneath him as he gradually began to envelop your neck with his fingers. he hovered his face close to yours, sticking his long, forked tongue out before sloppily kissing your lips, still continuing his ruthless pace. you groaned under him, feeling yourself beginning to choke from both his tongue and his fingers, which were slowly beginning to squeeze your throat once again.

it was all far too muchーyour vision starting to blur, and all of your senses drowning and bleeding into one another as he kept pounding his thick cock into you, causing you to harshly grip and pull his hair. 

he immediately drew his face back and tutted at you, but seeing the way your eyes began to roll into the back of your head only made him want to quicken his paceーif it was even possible. 

“haha…perfect. so perfect…”

the words coming out of his mouth didn’t make sense. he was praising you yet abusing you with every thrust and squeeze of your body, not even giving you a chance to cry out as your head slowly began to feel faint. all of the pain and pleasure made you lose your mind, feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly as he started to lick and nip at your ears. 

he throbbed and twitched inside of you and felt his own climax begin to rise, eventually making the decision to be generous enough and remove his vice-like grasp from around your neck. you gasped and cried out, finally able to breathe and mewling as a result of his cruel touch. 

“malleus...ーpleaseーit’s too…ーmuch... ’m gonna-” he smiled at your pleas, pressing your legs harder against your chest, allowing him to thrust even deeper into you.

“heh, are you going to cum? haha…then do it. cum for me.”

it seemed as if he had put you under a spell with how immediate and intense your orgasm was, your walls clenching down on his throbbing cock with tears dripping down your chin. you felt the sensation of hot, burning pleasure wrack through your body once again, not even hearing your own screams from how strong it was.

malleus didn't even allow you to come down from your high. instead, he kept pushing to reach his own climax, feeling his body start to shudder and throb as he kissed you. “i’m…close…you’ll allow me to cum inside of you, won’t you? i know you will.” 

you didn’t even care anymoreーyour legs continued to shake and tremble as you feebly nodded with your eyelids flickering. it seemed like malleus would fulfil his word, for a few seconds later, he let out a moan as he unleashed and pumped copious loads of white cum into you, causing you to whimper as you felt him completely fill you up.

his breathing evened almost immediately. wiping the sweat from off your face, he delicately slid his cock out from inside of you to admire his work, gazing at the way your body jerked with his cum spilling and gushing out of your abused hole.

…

“heh. maybe tutoring you every week won’t be so bad after all.”

[bromelads]

I am not playing the “you're racist if you say Ed is abusive" game with y’all 😒

This shit is not new or helpful to POC in the fandom. I wrote about it earlier this year (too little, too late), so I've built this post up from that.

I encourage folks to read this analysis and call to action by uselessheretic from back in JANUARY since it addresses key aspects of the harassment campaign that was par of the course for the fandom in 2022. This discourse plays into that harassment.

Listen, for all of its widely-held progressive values, the ofmd fandom is still a hobby space filled with mostly white, first world, LGBTQ+ ppl. Most ofmd fans fashion themselves leftists and generally agree that structural racism exists and is a problem. Overall, there's worse fandoms to be in.

That said, this particular wave of hand-wringing about fans calling Ed abusive is not at all about the ways indigenous people are stereotyped in media.

The most telling giveaway is the timing: fans expressing frustration towards Ed following the sneak peek that shows Fang, Archie, Jim, and Frenchie all but having an intervention for Izzy because they think he is "in an unhealthy relationship with Blackbeard" since Ed "cut two more of his toes...[which] seems pretty toxic to me."

I am not emotionally prepared to deconstruct the dark humor of holding a spontaneous intervention for your asshole white assistant manager who's on his last fucking wit because your brown and beautiful rockstar boss is too high to function and keeps cutting the guy's toes off. You either get the joke or you don't.

For the purpose of this post, all I care to extract from it is what it tells us about who is exercising the most control over the ship. Despite his physical absence, Ed’s ghost is all over this beautifully crafted scene. The tone of their wardrobe is dictated by Ed’s. They are carrying out Ed’s orders. Frenchie and Jim’s exclusive presence as former members of Stede’s crew was decided by Ed. Izzy’s authority as first mate is sanctioned by Ed. And it is Ed’s fitness to lead that Frenchie, Fang, Jim,and Archie are questioning ultimately.

I’m not particularly worried about Ed’s integrity as a charismatic lead being hurt by a storyline that paints him as someone who abuses power--the flow and exchange of power is a running theme for ofmd. Stede and Izzy themselves abuse their power in season 1 for their vanity. What I am worried about is this cute cultural feature of the wider ofmd fandom:

the chronic unwillingness to grapple with interpersonal power dynamics amongst peers, not only in the show, but in the fandom itself. 

So here we are again, ofmd fandom, working ourselves up into a moral outrage so that you, in your leftist white glory, can publicly police yourself because apparently you only know how to experience People of Color in fiction through these two lenses:

white guilt (am I racist for thinking this? are people around me racist for thinking this?) and

the white imagination (stories about characters of color are valuable because they inform my politics)

This push against reading Ed as abusive is not about calling out the problematics of depicting an indigenous man as mentally ill, violent, lonely, and rageful, it is about trying to sound self-righteous to mask anxiety about accidentally doing a racism on the indigenous, brown lead. 

This is even more obvious now with the season 2 premiere days away and audiences being primed to question whether the severity of Izzy's punishment was appropriate.

Now, here's the hard-to-swallow pill the ofmd fandom's been avoiding cuz we don't wanna point out the inevitable problems of representation within canon:

We are being served a storyline where a complex protagonist (who happens to be a brown, queer, indigenous man in a position of power) harms people who are close to him and we are meant to recognize this as a problem that he must come to terms with. I don't like it either, but I'd rather have this than no Ed story at all.

Other people have written far more intelligently about this than I could, but it bears repeating: what's happening here is fans projecting their own insecurities about racism and power onto a white character ("izzy exotifies ed!" "he wants to control ed!" "izzy is an incompetent pirate actually!") while at the same time applying a shiny veneer of respectability and perfect rationality to a nonwhite character ("ed had every right to hurt izzy!" "maiming is fair game as retribution for racism, it's in-world rules!" "ed can't be abusive because he's been abused!") in order to mask white leftist fandom's discomfort about a morally ambiguous brown protagonist.

Anyway, take a breath.

Ed is a character whose impact in "the real world" does indeed go beyond how he makes us feel. Taika Waititi's Edward Teach represents a watershed moment in indigenous representation—not only for his position as protagonist, not even for his queerness, but because of his depth, charisma, complexity, and connection to a community that cares about him. These things have been rarely afforded to the very few indigenous leads in the global film canon--no matter how his story is handled in season 2 and 3, Ed's impact has already been cemented.

Okay I'm done, here's some actionable advice to wash this all down with.

If your goal is to foster a welcoming environment for fans of color and elevate engagement with characters of color, then immediately remove shaming people's headcanons from your toolbox and read this article. Take stock of who is in your fandom social circle and take stock of what you do in order to at least see more fanworks featuring characters of color.

If your goal is to promote or participate in productive race-conscious conversations with other fans, get real about your relationship with power, your positionality in life (and in fandom) and the channels through which you want to have these conversations. Some questions to start with: Can you describe your relationship with your race? What is your experience talking about race in mixed-race spaces? What avenues do you use to participate in fandom? How do you participate? Where do you have influence? How do you manage unwanted feelings that spark from disagreements about racism?

If your goal is to interact in fandom with integrity, get explicit about your values. Engage in dialogue, treat others with the respect you want. Be curious and ask questions. Avoid becoming someone's useful idiot and learn to think critically.

Finally, if your goal is to enjoy your blorbos without having to think about the problematics of representation for QTBIPOC (Queer, Trans, Black, Indigenous, People of Color), then save us all the grief and just join a different fandom.

Good luck!

[eddiemuonson]

Embers of Affection - Anakin Skywalker x Jedi! Reader | Chapter 1

Summary: Both you and Anakin have been fighting the battles next to each other for years. He breaks your heart in a moment of rage and you decide to pull away from him. The Jedi tries insistently to apologize, realizing he had built up feelings for you.

Warning: None, mentions of fighting, cursing, angst

Word count: 2.2k

Your partnership with Anakin Skywalker on the battlefield was rooted in a deep and enduring friendship that had developed over many years. Your connection was not merely professional; it was a bond forged through shared experiences, trust, and a profound understanding of each other's strengths and weaknesses.

The Jedi became your Master and, alongside him, the two of you created a different relationship, as you both always had a mutual connection. Fighting side by side, you and the blonde managed to take down enemies, in addition to strengthening the Jedi Order, which pleased the Council.

Recently, Anakin has seemed to feel like he hasn't been in the same orbit as you. Married to Padmé, at various times he felt frustrated about maintaining a romantic relationship with a member of politics. His idea, however, was not to let the Senate intervene in his marriage, but it was apparent how much he was bothered by the opinions of third parties.

He had been changing relatively little by little, he felt more moody, irritated and out of patience. When you were together, he was able to control his temper to a limited extent, because he always put an obstacle in the way of reversing the situation.

You, with your back pressed against his, fought against the Republic on your own planet. The only advantage of that was that, in the worst case scenario, you were already home. The two of you quickly moved your lightsabers against your rivals, while using your blasters against the more armed attackers.

Until then, you couldn't understand much of what he was muttering, but he seemed to be building up anger, which showed in the way his shoulders seemed to stiffen his body. The way Anakin fired at them and used more force than usual seemed to say he needed to breathe.

Anakin, renowned for his impulsive nature, began to feel the pressure mounting. He had always been driven by a relentless desire for victory, and the frustration of the situation was getting to him. As the blaster bolts intensified, Anakin couldn't contain his emotions any longer.

"(Y/N), are you even trying? It looks like you're doing a nonsense job out here!" Anakin starts yelling above the noise of the battle.

Deeply committed to your role as a Jedi and hurt by Anakin's harsh words, you were momentarily stunned. You had always strived to do your job and be a valuable member of the team. The accusation from your partner was unexpected and stung like a blaster bolt.

"Anakin, I'm doing my best! We're overwhelmed here! We need to focus and work together!" You hear your voice almost breaking.

Anakin, fueled by frustration and his obstinated desire for victory, continued to lash out, seemingly heedless of the gravity of your situation.

"Your best isn't good enough right now! We can't afford mistakes!" he retorted. The way his words were thrown made you cringe.

Your resolve was shaken but your determination was unwavering as refocused your efforts on the battle, deflecting blaster bolts with a renewed intensity. You knew that your lives and the mission depended on your unity and cooperation as Jedi.

When you were still an apprentice, every time he taught you that a Jedi would never abandon their partner during war. He never left you alone even when he needed to face more dangerous things to defend you. There, seeing you walk away, he growled in anger at himself.

He was never a toxic friend, he never mistreated you, although he was often angry and annoyed when things didn't work out. He never stopped supporting you.

But you've noticed that, even though you're close, he's been moving further and further away, and every time he seems a little distant. The anger and uncertainty that things were going right for him were consuming him.

Yoda had spoken before, but you didn't want to think about the possibility that Anakin was beginning to let himself go to the dark side because he was consumed by anger and fear. God, you would do anything to take him out of this suffering.

At the end of the battle, you followed with the others to return home. You didn't expect to feel Anakin's presence close to you, with a calmer appearance, but extremely tired and sweaty. He removed the heavy armor from his shoulders as he looked at you.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)! I know I need to improve this, but I can't control it. I don't want to hurt you, I would never do such a thing". Anakin tried to get closer, but you made it clear that you didn't want to talk to him at that moment.

"If you're not satisfied with our work, Anakin, I think it's not by being an asshole that you'll improve the situation. This isn't the first time you've rebelled and I can't continue to put up with your attitudes!". You kept your serious gaze on him, and he tried to get closer.

In a more extensive exchange of glances, the Jedi read your face and discovered that you were more hurt by him than by any wound. He felt that you couldn't measure the pain for hearing such harsh words spoken to you, even after the years you spent together.

"Look for me only when you stop being a dick, I'm done" you didn't want to have to walk away from him like that. It was difficult having to stay so far away from him because of his completely radical attitude because he doesn't know how to deal with his own problems.

You were there the whole time, you offered as much help as you could. He denied it, he withdrew and he didn't realize how important it was for him to follow this path, but he preferred to accommodate himself with his own situation.

When he tried to call your name and get closer, you weren't ready to lower your guard just yet. You continued to use the Force to manipulate the battlefield debris, keeping Anakin at a distance. It was painful to have to leave the battlefield alone, without the company of that man who was always by your side.

Inside the Jedi Council's accommodation, C-3PO accompanied you by your side, as you made your way to the meeting room, where you would report on the mission. It was impossible to avoid Anakin at the meetings, as he was always the one who liked to lead the missions. Before, it was a common thing that you enjoyed because the two of you were always together, but after a while you started to notice that the missions started to revolve around him.

It was always him, him, him. Something that wasn't supposed to be bad, but now, seeing it differently, it was impossible not to notice how much he was seeking power.

As soon as Master Windu sat down in the chair next to Anakin, he asked for the report. You didn't know if in all your anger you would give a hint to your partner, or if you would talk about the mission. But there, they respected women above all else, and you were the only one there.

"Ah- the Separatist droids were searching for heavy weapons hidden in one of our planet's ships. The groups were divided and each was given an order, which was clearly followed" you began. Everyone present was paying attention, but Skywalker had his head down, the look you felt receiving from him was almost imperceptible.

"In any case, I would like to resign from my position of supporting Master Anakin. As he said before, it has been clarified that I'm doing a nonsense job and that my best isn't enough". When mentioning his previous speech, Anakin lifted his head minimally. Surprise was written all over his face.

The council members let out a murmur of indignation. "Miss (Y/L/N), in no way do we believe you need to retrain as an apprentice. I'm sure what the Jedi Knight meant is that he's a complete idiot" Master Windu reinforced his gaze if reproach to him.

Anakin, eager to make amends, began speaking, his voice filled with sincerity. "(Y/N), I want to apologize again for what I said during the battle. I was frustrated, and my words were unjustifiable. I deeply regret my outburst."

Your expression still reflects the hurt from your previous encounter. You cautiously responded to his apology. "Anakin, I appreciate your apology, but words spoken in anger can leave lasting scars. I'm not sure if I can simply forgive and forget."

His determination was unwavering, and as he leaned forward, his eyes locked onto yours. "(Y/N), I understand how deeply I hurt you, and I'm truly sorry for that. But I don't want to lose you as my partner. We've been through so much together, and I value our teamwork more than anything. Please, don't resign from your position as my partner on the field."

Master Windu interjected, his wise presence commanding the room.

"(Y/N), Anakin's apology is sincere, and it is in our Jedi nature to forgive and strive for unity. But it is also essential to address the root of the issue and ensure that we have a plan moving forward. How can we work together more effectively in the future?" He asks.

You then took a moment to collect your thoughts, your gaze shifting between Anakin and Master Windu.

"I want to believe in the strength of our partnership, but trust needs to be rebuilt. Anakin, we need better communication and understanding on the battlefield" You explain.

You expected Windu to defend Anakin, or even tell him he was wrong in other words. But he never failed to demonstrate that certain things are not as they really appear to be.

At the end of the meeting, the Master dismissed all participants, except your best friend, who stayed behind. It was likely that he would receive a warning for treating you so poorly during a delicate moment.

C-3PO walked the same route as you, as he dropped you off at the door of your dorm. He was the Droid you most trusted and socialized with in that compartment. It was nice to have someone to help you.

Usually, it stayed nearby, checking for any sign of attack or ambush. What the Droid couldn't do, until that day, was manage not to be hacked by Anakin, who was slowly knocking on his door.

Feeling his presence, you were irritated by the way he could turn a simple thing (like feeling the force and presence of other Jedi) into something completely unnecessary.

"I don't want to talk to you today. And I would like you to stop hacking C-3PO" You grumble quietly as soon as you open the door.

The man in front of you was wearing a simple white t-shirt and sweatpants. You couldn't even think much about his physique, because he was your best friend and he was also married.

Looking down, he held one hand on the doorframe. "I want you to consider forgiving me. For the sake of our friendship. For everything we've been through together. I need you and you know that."

“Huh” you quipped. "For the sake of our friendship? And you didn't even think about not belittling me for the sake of our friendship?".

He was silent. He knew better, he knew that what he said was often on impulse.

"You need to stop being irrational and impulsive. We are dealing with a years-long friendship, not just any relationship." You used your index finger to point against his defined chest.

"I don't have the right to take my frustrations out on you, (Y/N). Please think of both of us" he asked lovingly. His heart didn't seem to be beating at the same pace.

If you forgave him, you would be letting him go back to the way he is. Anakin needed to take care of himself and control his feelings and moods before it was too late.

"I won't think about anything for now. You devalued me after years of being my Master. I worked very hard to become who I am and gained recognition from the Council". Your teary eyes left him astonished.

He should have thought a thousand times before saying anything. He still needed to think a lot before acting like an idiot.

"It's late and I want to sleep. Please fix C-3PO or I'll tell the Council that you use your hacking skills to take down the Droid".

You slammed the door shut in his face, but you managed to hear when Anakin mumbled against the room. It wasn't easy for you to need to distance yourself from him because of something he did.

He had come with the intention of making amends, of bridging the divide that had grown between them, but instead, he had been met with rejection. Anakin's frustration grew as he paced back and forth in the corridor, running his hand through his hair in agitation.

He knew he had made a mistake, and he was trying to make things right. But now, it seemed like you wanted nothing to do with him. As he stood outside your door, the weight of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders.

He realized that repairing your fractured relationship would be more challenging than he had anticipated. The frustration he felt was compounded by the uncertainty of whether he would ever be able to regain your trust and friendship.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: We have the means……

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)  

YesterdayShow less

“What do you mean you will not let us land?”

From the confines of his captain’s quarters the bridge crew could not hear the anger radiating from Captain Hazel Abbot. Projected opposite him was the current source of his ire, Sevren Dayton. He was captain of the Verung patrol ship currently blocking his relief vessel from landing on Tevren VI and delivering critically needed medical supplies.

“The native population of Tevren VI has been designated a technologically inferior species and therefore any intervention from space faring species prohibited.”

Dayton spoke as if he was quoting a rulebook word for word which only further infuriated Abbot.

“The Terran Republic does not recognize the standards of the Verung,” Abbot began politely, “and since we are not in Verung territory I must inform you that you have no authority here.”

Dayton’s eye twitched for the briefest of moments but Abbot knew he had struck a nerve. If there was one thing Verung hated it was when other species bowed down to them like they were the third coming of space jesus.

“Under article three section four dash one one seven nine of the Treaty of Nibhishein, the Terran Republic agreed to defer to the Verung in disputed territories.”

Abbot pulled open his data terminal and entered in the mentioned treaty. His eyes darted across the scrolling text before frowning. “The treaty you reference is a trade treaty signed after the Verung War.”

“I believe you mean the “War of Terran Compliance”.” Dayton corrected, but Abbot would not be baited.

“Regardless this matter is excluded from the confines of the treaty as no matter of trade or military aspect is at play.”

Dayton refused to give ground however. “By handing over medical supplies you are instigating the basis for trade; therefore your actions here are covered under the treaty.”

Abbot threw his hands in the air and rose from his chair with such frustration that he knocked over several documents, scattering them to the floor in a blizzard of paper.

“There is no trade here. If they do not get these medical supplies the people of Tevren VI will die within a year.” Abbot’s voice was stern as the boundaries of his patience were fast approaching. “We cannot sit back and let that happen.”

“That is exactly what will happen.”

The measured tone of Dayton’s voice silenced Captain Abbot if only by the disbelief of what he had just heard. Dayton continued further to Abbot’s horror.

“If you were to save these people as you so wish you would be altering their natural evolution. We of higher technological standings cannot play gods, judging who lives and who dies.”

“Do you not hear yourself!?”

Abbot’s rage could no longer be contained over the sheer stupidity of Dayton’s logic.

“You would have us sit by and watch as millions of living breathing people die horribly?!”

Dayton looked into the holographic projector with disgust written all over his face. “It is the will of the universe.”

Abbot looked at the Verung captain dumbfounded. He slouched back into his chair and hung his head between his hands. He could hear the fizzle of the projector unit still active but didn’t care to face Dayton as his mind raced.

“Will you stand down?”

Abbot looked up at Dayton still on the projector and straightened himself up. He pressed the creases from his uniform and wove his hair back into shape before addressing the com unit built into the projector unit.

“Helmsman,” he began as Dayton’s face looked smug, “begin landing procedures as planned.”

“What do you think you are-“ Dayton began but Abbot was not finished.

“Master at arms, if the Verung attempt to block our descent into atmosphere and pose a threat to this vessel you have permission to open fire.”

Dayton’s expression went from shock to outrage as the master at arms acknowledged. Captain Abbot now fixed the Verung with a deathless stare as he clasped his hands together.

“I thank you for your perspective but we have a people to save. If you attempt to halt us again we will consider it an act of aggression and respond appropriately as you have just heard.”

“My government will be informed of this.” Dayton remarked through clenched teeth.

“Good.” Abbot replied. “Then let them know that one does not need to play god to do the right thing.”

[rafa-jaja]

Asking for your help...

Bruce Wayne x Gn reader

It was a normal day in Gotham, you were in the corner of your house when you felt a presence behind you, it was Superman.

- Can I help you with something?

- It's Batman...he needs your help.

Batman...the bastard who abandoned me years ago wants my help...what a joke, you thought.

- And what does he need my help for?

- He wants you to get inside Talia's mind to see what he's up to.

- Talia? The bitch he slept with, cheated on me and now has a kid of his own?

- Uh... yeah, her.

The rage you had built up was coming to the surface, how dare Batman ask you this, and he didn't even come to ask you, he sent the great and powerful Superman to ask you.

- No, tell him I'm not going to help him...I'm not going to risk the new lifestyle I have for him.

Superman seemed surprised by your answer, but he understood why you refused.

- I understand, but keep in mind that we are dealing with a greater danger, Talia has thugs who managed to take down an entire building with just their fists. We don't know what she's capable of.

- I am no longer in the League, I retired to avoid having this kind of situation.

With nothing more to say you asked him nicely to leave, all this ruined your day. You thought this would be the only time you would be bothered, but the opposite happened, a couple of days later someone knocked on your door, it was Dick.

You let him in, you knew he wasn't here to check on you, but you were intrigued to see what he wanted.

- So...how have you been?

- Dick, I've known you since you were a rovin, I know you're not here to check on me.

- Ok... Bruce sent me to ask you to help him, please.

- Dick, I'm going to give you the same answer I gave Superman, I'm not going to help Bruce.

- But Talia could...

- I know what she's capable of, believe me...I know, after being her prisoner for a year you get to know her pretty well.

- What do you mean, prisoner?

- You don't know? It seems Bruce is still keeping secrets from you.

- When did this happen? How come this never showed up in the reports?

- It was when Bruce released his biological son, I got so frustrated by Bruce's infidelity, I made up my mind to confront Talia. I went to her hideout to confront her, but I couldn't even get through the door when her goons caught me, locked me in a cell and sent a video to Bruce to come to my rescue...but he never came. Talia tortured me every day, until one day she overexed herself and I was on the verge of death. She took pity on my soul and threw me into the Lazarus pit, after that she freed me.

Dick couldn't process everything you were telling him, all this time he thought you just abandoned them. He felt so guilty that he didn't seek you out, you were his family.

- I...no, I can't believe this.

You just hugged him, he had a right to know the truth.

- Calm down, it's all in the past...- you said as the two of you got deeper into the embrace.

Dick stayed by your side for a long time, but he had to go on patrol.

The next morning you woke up with a knock on the window, you went to see what it was and saw Constantin, he just smiled at you and disappeared, he had left you a note, it said "Go to Wayne mansion". You thought it was a bad joke on his part, but something told you to go.

...part two?

[gubbin-galoshes]

Yesterday I arrived at a Christmas fundraiser event as a volunteer. There were parents and kids, carols and laughter, families dancing and talking in bright voices.

My back was to it all. I guarded the entry table, took money, explained the festivities, and watched them move on. Other volunteers came to talk with me, sat at the table two and three at a time, offered me cocoa and cookies and engaged me in bright conversation while the room reverberated with noise and more families came in and waited expectantly at my table.

Four hours later, I felt like I was going to pass out, but I had two more hours to go. By the time I got home after dark, I was shaking. I felt like my brain had been sucked out with a straw, leaving a rattling ringing in my ears.

This morning, after running tech for the UU service, everyone got up and started talking at once but I couldn't understand them because there was a crashing ocean noise in my skull that rumbled painfully in my ears every time someone made a sound. I had to get out. I picked up my bag, said goodbye, and ran.

For the past few years-- since joining this community and since becoming a manager at work, since I've started running meetings and supervising people and being asked to give every moment of my time to solving other people's personal problems or to noisy, bright, confusing events --I've forced myself to try and be normal.

Normal is taking everything I have, so I keep my abnormalities to myself: my fanfiction, my kids' shows, my fantasy novels, my podcasts, the tent I sleep in every night because it's the only thing that makes me feel safe. These things are secret because they're mine and mine alone. I can't let normal take them, too.

One of those secret things is Hilda.

I adore this show so incredibly much. I feel like it was written just for me: the folklore, the woods, the low-stakes adventures, the knowledge that everything will be okay in the end. This is the world I always wanted. It's the story that I always wanted to write. Even now, its gentle lessons on how to be a good person and how to be a good friend are morals I needed to hear. And I tried applying those lessons: be adventurous, invite others to explore with you, say what's on your mind, ask questions, knock on doors, help where help is needed, engage fully in every conversation, spend all your time with other people, leap first and look later, be loud, and contribute to the noise and color and light. Do all these things and everyone will love you. Keep doing it, even if it hurts. You'll adjust. You'll become resilient. And you'll be happy and you'll make everyone else happy.

But then. Now. There's Louise.

This is me. I'm so quiet that no one sees me, no one knows my name, and when I make a sound people jump. In my overwhelmed and frustrated state, after trying so hard to be like everyone else, this three-second scene made me cry with relief.

I'd been so focused on turning myself into the person that everyone else needed that I'd forgotten who I am. Louise reminded me. As the episode went on, I remembered how I used to quietly and calmly observe. How I would absorb and analyze and only speak when I'd built up something to say.

But most importantly-- the thing that reached into my soul and ripped it out --was the fact that Louise is comfortable in who she is. By the end of the show, her quiet observation is her strength. She's strong and confident, not timid and shy. She can be accepted warmly as a good friend even if she isn't as loud as everyone else. Her character arc is not to overcome her quietness. Being quiet is a part of her personality, and she's loved and accepted for who she is.

And that? I don't remember seeing that.

Ever.

Only a couple weeks ago I sat in a roomful of people and told them I was grateful to them for teaching me how to be more outgoing while, at the same time, the raging ocean waves of protest crashed in my ears. Just push through it, I'd thought. The more you force yourself to be extroverted, the easier it will become. But what if it was okay to be myself?

I haven't watched past this introductory episode, but this kids' show is washing away my existential crisis and I love it so, so much.

[actual-changeling]

hiiiiii @nightgoodomens i read this post and then immediately started typing and this is the result. either sorry or you're welcome. or both. :)

-

Crowley's first instinct is to wrench his arm from Aziraphale's grasp, but his hold on him tightens ever so slightly as if sensing his intentions, so he stays put—for now.

Still, anger rises in his chest like a tidal wave, hot and desperate and tainted by nothing lasts forever and i forgive you. They haven't talked about it yet, and he refuses to when the outcome of that argument could very well mean extinction, not just for the two of them but for the world. He built walls in his mind, keeping out shimmering purple eyes and familiar lips, and stopped breathing so he could pretend Aziraphale didn't smell all wrong.

The reason stretching throughout their foundations turns into vines, forcing them apart stone by stone when he meets his gaze.

"How about we come up with a plan where you don't risk destruction, please?"

Crowley's smile is a mask of bitter disappointment; the slant of his mouth is sharp, almost cruel.

"What do you care?"

"Of course I care," Aziraphale shoots back immediately, his fingers digging into his arm forcefully enough that he can practically taste the bruises forming beneath them.

"You were more than happy to deliver me to heaven all tied up and with a bow on my head, Arseangel Aziraphale. You would have had to find someone to scrape my sorry fucking remains off their pristine floors five minutes later."

A tingling numbness spreads up to his shoulder, pins and needles reminding him that this corporation is starting to get tired of being restrained, but Crowley is too focused on the insulted rage distorting the angel's face. He steps closer, forcing him to look up at him, and he takes minute satisfaction in the heavy swallow running down his throat.

"They wouldn't-"

"Oh, they wouldn't, really? They have already done it once, and now they're planning on ending us all. None of them would know mercy if it hit them in their perfect bloody faces."

Uncaring for the increase in his volume, Crowley mockingly raises an eyebrow, challenging him to disagree, to defend heaven like he has done time and time again, to finally let go of him and let him stomp off to his destruction; this time, he is either going to win or go out on his own terms.

When Aziraphale doesn't respond, his lashes fluttering and his mouth opening and closing several times without expelling a single sound or breath, he channels six thousand years of suppressed frustration and angry humiliation and rips his arm out of his grasp.

"There is no 'we', Aziraphale. There is your side, there is earth, and then there's me."

He remembers the hundred times Aziraphale denied knowing him, called him a demon, his adversary, denounced their friendship and arrangement, and ground their partnership to dust under his heels like a dried-out bug on the verge of death.

Friends, we're not friends.

For a moment, Crowley wants to ask if any of it had been real, but he knows it was—that's why it hurts.

That's why he can't let it go.

The pain as the blood in his arm begins to flow unhindered again is nothing compared to the gaping wound scratching itself open in his chest, forcing him to swallow salted iron and sickly sweet love. He has been wearing his shades every single second they spent together after his return, but he takes them off now, biting back a taunting sneer, biting back tears.

Purple meets gold, the summer-sky blue is long gone, and it helps him deliver the last blow without flinching.

"Nothing lasts forever, right? Good luck with your armageddon."

Crowley does not wait to see the hurt spreading across his face and pretends he doesn't hear the punched-out gasp or the beginnings of a sob.

Instead, he slides his glasses back into place and walks away; the universe will finally grant him rest one way or another.

-

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[yo-honolulu-lets-get-it]

'Best Friend's Sister' pairing: kang yeosang x jung sister ! reader requested?: No

"So, I walk into the kitchen, right?" Yunho laughed. "And there they were, kissing like there was no tomorrow."

Time seemed to freeze at that moment. I felt the color drain from my face as I exchanged a brief, panicked glance with Yeosang. Wooyoung, who had been engrossed in his phone, looked up sharply, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

"What? Who?" Wooyoung demanded, his gaze shifting between Yunho and me.

Yunho, realizing his mistake, stammered for words. "Uh, well, you know, it was just Y/N and Yeosang. They were… uh, in the kitchen."

The room fell into an awkward silence. I could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on me, and panic began to claw at the edges of my consciousness.

Wooyoung's expression shifted from confusion to disbelief, and then finally, to rage. "Y/N, is this true?" he demanded, his voice rising.

I nodded and the room erupted into chaos as Wooyoung unleashed his anger, accusing us of betrayal.

I felt the need to escape and I retreated to San's room. The air in the room felt heavy as I tried to steady my breathing. The revelation had hit like a tidal wave, tearing down the walls of the secret world Yeosang and I had built over the past two months. My heart raced, and I could hear the muffled voices of Wooyoung and Yunho outside.

"This was a bad idea. We never should have gotten together," I muttered, my hands trembling.

Yeosang, who had followed me into San's room, closed the door behind us. His expression mirrored a mix of regret and frustration. "Do you think I meant to fall for my best friend's sister?!" he interjected, his voice strained. "It's not like I just woke up one day and decided it! I've been in love with you for years for fuck's sake!"

His words hung in the air, and I felt the weight of his confession. The truth was, I had known Yeosang for years as well, and our connection had grown into something more than friendship. We couldn't have predicted the storm that would follow when we decided to keep our relationship a secret from Wooyoung.

I turned away, my eyes fixed on the floor as tears threatened to spill. "Yeosang, you don't understand"

Yeosang stepped closer, gently turning my head to face him. His eyes pleaded with mine. "I know it's complicated, but we can figure this out together. We can't change the past, but we can choose what we do from now on."

I felt torn between the loyalty I owed to my brother and the love that had blossomed unexpectedly. "What about Wooyoung?" I whispered, afraid of the answer.

"He needs time to process this," Yeosang admitted. "But we can't let one mistake define us. I care about you, Y/N, more than anything. I'm not willing to give up on us without a fight."

I took a shaky breath. "I care about you too, Yeosang. But this is going to change everything."

He cupped my face in his hands, searching my eyes for reassurance. "Maybe it will, but maybe it's time for a change. We can face it together."

As the door creaked open, we both turned to see San, his expression understanding but cautious. "Wooyoung's calmed down a bit. He wants to talk."

The both of us nodded and Yeosang and I stood up as San walked back out. "Let's face this together. No matter what happens, we'll face it together."

As Yeosang and I walked out of San's room, the tension in the air was noticeable. Wooyoung sat on the couch, his eyes fixed on the floor. I hesitated before taking a seat beside him.

Wooyoung finally looked up, his expression a mix of hurt and anger. "How long?" he demanded, his voice strained.

I swallowed hard, meeting his gaze. "Two months," I admitted.

His eyes flickered to Yeosang, who remained silent but visibly tense. "Two months," Wooyoung repeated, his jaw clenching. "And I had no idea. How could you both do this behind my back?"

Yeosang stepped forward, ready to speak, but Wooyoung held up a hand, silencing him. "I want to hear it from her," he insisted, directing his attention back to me.

Taking a deep breath, I began to explain the tangled web we found ourselves in, the feelings that had developed, and the fear of hurting him. Wooyoung listened in silence, his expression growing darker with each word.

"I can't believe you'd keep something like this from me," Wooyoung finally spoke. "You're my sister, and he's my best friend. I thought I could trust both of you."

Tears welled up in my eyes as guilt gnawed at my conscience. "Wooyoung, I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, and that's why this hurts so much."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "And what about him?" Wooyoung pointed at Yeosang. "What does he have to say for himself?"

"I never meant for this to happen, Wooyoung. I care about both of you. But I can't deny my feelings for Y/N. It's not something I can just turn off."

Wooyoung's eyes narrowed. "You betrayed me, man. I trusted you. How can I ever look at you the same way again?"

Yeosang's shoulders slumped, but he didn't back down. "I know I messed up, and I'll accept whatever consequences come my way. But please, understand that it was never my intention to hurt you."

The room fell into a heavy silence, the gravity of the situation settling over us. Wooyoung stood up abruptly, his emotions too overwhelming to contain. "I need time," he muttered, avoiding eye contact. "Both of you, just give me some time." Wooyoung said before walking out of the living room.

[deadmomjokes]

as a teacher, hearing about the way you communicate so clearly and thoroughly with your child is so inspiring. I wish more people had resources on how to communicate with kids like you do.

I'm very bad at taking compliments, so I'll just say "Thank you" and also qualify that she makes it pretty easy. She's very smart and has always, from day one basically, needed to know the reasons behind everything. In other circumstances, she would probably be called "stubborn" or "defiant." But the thing is, I remember my own "stubbornness" growing up, and it was almost always the result of me not understanding why things were the way they were. From a young age, I hated with a burning passion the "Because I said so" thing. So I determined that I didn't want to do that when/if I had kids of my own.

My daughter is very bright and curious and makes that easy for me. Her "why" phase was/is pretty specific, which is helpful in keeping ahead of the frustration-induced rage-meltdowns. (Not all of them, of course, because some concepts are really hard to grasp even as an adult, let alone when you're 4 years old and everything Feels Too Big.)

But I also made a conscious effort to start practicing early, before she could talk or push back on a lot of stuff. It felt so weird and silly at first, but I basically narrated everything I did with/around her, and put a reason for it. So a trip to the store sounded like this:

"We made it to the store to get our groceries, so we have yummy food to eat. Let's go inside and get a buggy--that's where we'll put all the things we get, because we can't carry them all in just our hands. I'm going to put you in the buggy, too, right here in this seat, that way you can see what's going on but I have both my hands to push the buggy and grab the things we need. Here, look, some bananas! Let's get some of those because you love to eat them. Oh, no, sorry baby, we can't eat them right now. This stuff isn't ours until we pay for it at the very end-- that's the part with the beep-beeper and the bags. When we get home we can have some of the bananas, because then they are our bananas." Etc, etc, on and on.

People looked at me like I was nuts. It felt a little nuts at times, especially before she could respond verbally. But it worked. It built a habit for me to give a reason for why I'm doing things, or making her do things. More importantly, I feel like, it made me stop and question when I didn't have a good reason for my answers or behaviors. Like if she comes up and asks to blow bubbles outside, and I go, "No baby, not right now," she can be like "why not?" And I have to look at myself and my reasoning. Is it because I'm actually busy or we're genuinely about to do something else that precludes the 5 minutes it'd take to do bubbles? Or is it because I just don't feel like it? It's not fair for "I don't feel like it" to supersede her desires for connection and entertainment all the time. (Sometimes you're just worn out and don't have the bandwidth for it, and that's valid. Parents are people too! But it can't be all the time, yk?) So if I don't have a good reason why not, I let her know that I thought about it more and changed my mind, and off we go to blow bubbles.

I also heard the advice, idk where or when, that you need to practice on your children what you want from them. So if I want my child to be kind, I have to be kind to her, in ways that she can see and appreciate. If I want her to know it's okay to change your mind, I have to point out when that happens for me, like in the above bubbles example. If I want her to be a decent human being who respects others, is empathetic, appreciates the efforts of others, speaks kindly, thinks about how her actions impact those around her, etc... You get the idea. It starts with me. And I try to consciously remind myself of that fact.

It's not always easy, because kids aren't always rational (but to be fair, neither are adults lol). And what is rational to a 4 year old is not always the same as what is rational to me, the adult with almost 3 decades of experience more than her. So sometimes it's like explaining to the wind why it ought to blow in a different direction. But the longer I get to know her, the more I'm able to pick up on the way she sees things, her personal defaults, the way she talks around concepts she's not sure about, etc. It's part of what's cool about getting to be her parent. I get such a close-up view of this little person becoming a little person, and it makes me stop and think about things I have taken for granted for a long time.

I'm rambling again, but I have developed a lot of Strong Feelings about the way kids are treated and looked at in general, and a lot of determination to do better for the kids I get the privilege of loving.

[thegoldencontracts]

Ugly-Cry

Azul and his past. An odd relationship indeed.

Notes: Angst with a happy ending or hurt/comfort, restrictive ed implication, azul-typical issues.

When had it started, Azul's effort to better himself? He remembered the day crystal clear. He was ten, and he'd finally been pushed to his limit.

A group photo in his class. He'd been the odd one out, of course. Fatter than the rest - teary-eyed, awkward, clumsy, dumb. Nothing to respect.

It had all been pointed out by his classmates, of course. In the end he'd even been removed from the photo.

"I'm sorry, but you're just a bit of an eyesore," his teacher had said. "You must understand."

He did. All too well, in fact, for people had been telling him that for years. He was unwelcome and no one wanted him around. That was really the core message.

That day was the day his humiliated sobs had begun to emanate rage. He'd show them. He'd be more desirable than any of them ever could.

It was from that day that he'd begun to spend his days studying in the library, learning all sorts of magic. He'd learned more about business.

Then, Azul realized that no matter how intelligent he was, his hideousness would forever make him seem undesirable. He was fat, and his expressiveness was a pain. Not to mention the tears of ink.

He'd stopped eating as much. Calories were precious, each and every one to be counted. Junk food wasn't a luxury that someone as fat as him could afford.

He stopped crying, too. Tears were for the beautiful. For those with doe eyes, whose cheeks shimmered in the light when they cried as their friends rushed to comfort them. He had no such friends. He was never meant to have any, after all. Only business partners.

His efforts paid off. He met Jade and Floyd, made contracts to steal talents so he could pretend to be strong, and went to Night Raven College. There, he became a housewarden. He was feared and revered alike for his talents. Azul even managed to open his own restaurant. Lovely.

But then, in Sophomore year, his contracts had been destroyed. Nothing left but the pathetic little octopus now. He'd overblotted in his desperation. How risible.

Afterwards, his whole world seemed to crumble. He wanted nothing more than to sob, to kick and scream his, frustrations. But he couldn't. No one cared. All he had were business partners. Even then the twins would leave him someday, and then he'd be all alone.

So, he did what anyone would do. He buried himself in work. Little to eat, little sleep, just work. Perhaps if he did this enough he could forget about his irrational urges.

One day, in the midst of his work, Azul heard a knock.

"Come in," he said absentmindedly.

The door opened, before being locked.

There stood Jade, a polite smile on his face. Could he tell how Azul was on the verge of a breakdown? Hopefully not.

"You know," Jade said. "You've been quite cooped up in your office."

Azul just nodded.

"Yes, well, this paperwork won't fill itself out, will it?" He said with a fake laugh that was tinged with desperation.

Silence. After a while, Jade's expression seemed to soften.

"Azul," he said pointedly. "If you have pent-up emotions, it would be prudent to express them. We've both seen what happens when you don't."

And that's all it took for the dam to break. Azul could no longer hold back his misery, his tears.

He could feel a bit of ink built up. So Azul was still an ugly-crier, it seemed. That just made him even more miserable, more teary.

"A-Apologies, Jade." Azul wanted to say something else, but it was cut off by his tears.

Then, then, something happened that Azul would've never expected.

A hand on his head. It wasn't applying any force, but it was there, and it was comforting.

Someone had taken pity on the little octopus. How odd.

"I-I just-" he sniffled out before he could help himself. "Why can't I b-be enough?"

Azul was a fool. An absolute fool for exposing himself like this at the first sign of care.

Still, he'd scold himself later. For now, well, this felt good. Someone cared.

Jade seemed silent, though Azul could vaguely make out a murmured 'you are'.

As he slowly drifted to sleep, he couldn't help but think that all this was going to be less difficult from now on.

[justagalwhowrites]

Beskar Doll - Ch. 13: Kann

Faced with an ultimatum, you consider your options. But someone from your past changes things for you and the Mandalorian. A continuation of Beskar Doll Ch. 1-12 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader

Warnings: DV, attempted SA, graphic depictions of violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only

Length: 2.3k

It was not a restful night for you. Your mind was racing, thinking of ways you could run, just slip away. Maybe stow away on a transport leaving early the next day, regardless of where it was heading. Anything to not be caught up with the Mandalorian again. 

His leaving you on Dantooine had broken something in you, cracked you so deep you knew you couldn’t live through it again. It wasn’t his fault. You knew that, you felt that deeply, but he wasn’t safe. Anyone who had that much sway over you couldn’t be safe. 

Years of isolation had taken its toll on your psyche. You knew that, too. It’s why you’d latched on to the armored man so hard in the first place. It was worse now. You’d seen almost no one except your husband, Kann, for three years and you’d avoided him as much as you could. You’d regularly gone days without saying a word or seeing another person.

Both of you had made an effort, early on, to at least be friends. He’d been kinder then. But you weren’t built to do what he expected of a wife and his frustration with you grew more and more obvious. When you slept with him, you thought about being held against an armored body while being flooded with pleasure and the feeling that you mattered for a reason beyond your skillset or role. 

You’d only been with Kann a few months the first time you walked to the woods. You’d left a note, at least: Went for a walk, back later. You’d intended to come back later and technically you did, it was just a few days later. It’s not like you’d brought supplies with you, just some water to get you through the day and your knife. But being alone, surrounded by the overwhelming feeling of the wild was so freeing, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn back. You climbed trees until you were so high the fall would surely kill you and turned your face to the stars. You took a gamble on what plants would be safe to eat after watching piket feeding and just hoped what didn’t kill them wouldn’t kill you, either. After two days of rain that didn’t show any sign of easing, you hiked home. 

Kann had been furious. He threw you into a wall, pinning you there with his arm against your neck, screaming. 

You’d still been strong, then. You stared him down, a rage building inside you that was unlike anything you’d felt before. It was hard to tell if you’d ever felt anger like this on your own behalf, the intensity usually reserved for someone else being harmed. You grabbed your knife and flipped it open, pressing the tip of it against his stomach, hard enough to hurt but not so hard that it would break the skin. 

“Touch me again,” you said, your voice eerily calm. “And I will kill you.” 

He stepped back from you then, a glimmer of doubt in his eyes. 

“You don’t know anything about me,” you said, closing the distance between you with the knife still out. “You don't know who I am, why I'm here or what I've done. But trust this. I know how to kill you in dozens of ways. I’ve done it before and I will do it again if you force me. Do not force me.” 

He left, taking the speeder. He didn’t come back for two days. When he did, he apologized for his reaction, swore it wouldn’t happen again. Asked to start over. You agreed. What choice did you really have? 

It was OK for a while. You tried to do the things he asked of you, mostly work managing the infrastructure of the farm you lived on. But while you were a good liar, he was just as good. You hadn’t realized just how much he hated you, simmering just below the surface. 

It had started slowly. Crops weren’t doing as well this season, he said. Food wasn’t as plentiful. Without much to eat, you cut back on training, saving your strength for things that were more important. You got smaller and weaker. 

There weren’t many credits to be had and Kann started keeping them in a safe. He kept the speeder away from you, too. You weren’t very good at driving it and you couldn’t afford to fix it right now if something happened. 

It all had made sense. Things were difficult but you’d lived through far harder times. Life was calm and quiet, you could still walk and climb when you had the time, there was a sense of tolerance between you and Kann. You hadn’t even realized how dependent you’d become on him, how little you’d be able to do if you needed to fight or flee. He’d lulled you into a false sense of security. 

It stayed like that until Aidla and Tam died. You hadn’t actually seen them in more than a year but you wrote regular letters back and forth - hand written, so you were free to say anything you wanted without risk of a transmitted message being intercepted by anyone looking for you. Aidla had become your only friend, feeling like the older sister you’d never had. And then she was gone. 

Kann didn’t wait long after that. He slapped you, the first time. You’d pushed back on one of his requests - you didn’t even remember what now - and instead of quietly accepting it, he slapped you. You punched him, hard, in the face in response, splitting his lip open before you ran to the woods. You scaled the first really tall tree you could find and watched from above as he looked for you. He never thought to look up. 

There were cycles to it, things building and building for months until the night you fled. He’d tried to hold you down, pull off your clothes. But even after months he underestimated you. You got your teeth around his ear and ripped, your mouth filling with blood and you had to spit the piece of him you’d torn away onto the ground. He pulled back from you, far enough that you could get your hands up, pressing your thumb into his eye until it popped out and you ripped it free as he screamed. He rolled off of you and you ran, grabbing your ring and twisting it open, pressing the sedative into his neck. You got your blaster, the credits, your data pad, your knife and considered killing him before you left. You pointed the blaster at him, aiming it at his head. But he was the only person you’d seen in months, the only person left in the universe who knew you existed as you did now. He’d shared your bed, made you laugh a few times. You thought he’d been good, once. Sometime before. You took the speeder and drove recklessly to the nearest city, selling it to get enough credits to make it off world. 

The last time you’d felt truly safe with another person had been with Din. You knew, with quiet certainty, that he wouldn’t hurt you. Hands that destroyed anyone else touched you with a passion and tenderness that you could barely understand. He’d been your friend, even if it was just for a short time. The only real friend, from a connection forged through circumstance and not blood or duty, that you’d had in nearly a decade. But he’d just left you, said you’d never happened. It had been so easy for him. 

Being near him again was dangerous. 

But he’d tied your hands. You didn’t want Kann dead. Well, not entirely true. If he dropped dead of natural causes, if a speeder crashed into him, if a bar fight went wrong you’d be relieved. You certainly would’t miss him. But you didn’t want his death on your conscious and Din hunting him - and you knew he could - would be on you.

You packed what little you had - just three changes of clothes that you’d managed to scrounge together after getting off Dantooine, the data pad, the handful of credits you’d managed to save, the knife - and left the small room that had been home for the past month. On the way to the spaceport, you stopped by the cafe, leaving a chunk of the credits you had for Shura. She’d been kind to you, slipped you free food on days you couldn’t afford to eat. It wouldn’t get her far but she deserved something good. 

You used most of the rest of the credits you had to grab rations at a market near the port. You wanted to owe the Mandalorian as little as possible and you weren’t about to start this trip as ill-prepared as you were for the last one. 

He was at the market, too. Easy to spot even though you weren’t looking for him, his new armor shining in the sun. He was holding the kid this time, his eyes wide as he took in the sights and sounds. You smiled a little to yourself. The warrior and his failed quarry. An unlikely pair but they somehow fit. The Mandalorian noticed you then, you could still feel when his eyes fell on you. You raised a hand in greeting and took a deep breath, about to join them when the knife slid into your back, making you gasp. 

“You thought you could take my eye and I’d just let you live?” Kann’s voice was in your ear as you collapsed to the ground, eyes still on shining armor as you fell. 

*** 

Din almost dropped the kid when he saw you drop, your body crumpling as you went limp, a man’s face pressed to your ear. Everything happened slowly then. He couldn’t seem to move fast enough, crashing through the press of people, the child pressed against his side as the man came down on top of you. You tried to shove him off but he was bigger and stronger than you and he punched you across the face. Din crouched low as he broke through the people who were suddenly parting to avoid the attack on the street. He set the kid down and tackled the man in the same motion, knocking him off your body and splaying him onto the street. His one remaining eye opened wide in shock, a panicked look on his face. It had to be your husband, a man he already desperately wanted to destroy. He scrambled for a blaster but the Mandalorian knocked it aside easily. 

Time moved differently again. He could hear the blood in his ears, so loud it was like the man pleading for his life below him wasn’t making a sound. Heat filled him, rage so acute it overwhelmed him. Normally, he’d cuff someone like this, hand him to the local authorities or see if there were any open bounties on him. If he got too wild, he might shoot him, end it quickly. Not this time. 

Din brought his fist down on the man’s face with all the force he had inside him, every ounce of rage, the pain of being without you, the ache of knowing he’d left you somewhere that you’d been hurt. He rained it on him, blow after blow after blow, blood pouring from the man’s face. 

“Din!” You were screaming for him, a blaster bolt going past his head and striking another man coming for him. He looked over his shoulder to you, your body in an unnatural position on the ground, but you held the child to your chest with one hand and clutched the blaster he’d knocked away from your husband with the other. Your eyes were still wide, looking past him. He looked up, two more men - not in uniform so not security or police - running for him. He pulled out a blaster and shot them both before punching the man below him again. The blood had stopped pouring from him. Instead, it was just a trickle, his face unrecognizable. There was no more heartbeat left to pump the blood from his body, his chest no longer rose and fell. 

Din looked down at himself, breathless for a moment. His armor was covered in blood, his hand looking like he’d stuck it inside the dead man he was so slick with it. He got up, panting for breath, staring at the dead man below him for a moment, before turning back to you. 

The crowd that had formed was silent as he scanned it for more trouble as he went for you. Your upper body went limp as you gasped for breath, the child reaching one hand to your face, his ears drooping, the blaster only loosely held in your fingers. 

He crouched beside you, your eyes closed. Your face was already swelling where you’d been hit. He gently cupped your uninjured cheek and you pressed your face into his palm in the way you’d always done, wincing as you did, like it was an instinct you couldn’t stop. 

“I’ve got you, Cyare,” he said softly. He tucked the kid into the bag at his hip and delicately lifted you into his arms, your body almost a dead weight against him. Your head rested in the blood at his chest, your breaths shaky. “You’ll be OK, I’ve got you.” 

“Din,” you said quietly, body trembling. “Din, I can’t feel my legs, something’s wrong I can’t feel…” 

You passed out and he held you tighter, leaving bodies and a silent crowd in his wake. 

[blu3cl0v3rs]

Summary: Why fly in planes when you're the Elemental Master of Wind?

Warnings: Reckless actions, possible unwritten near death situations

Prompt: Suitcase | Airport | "Did you pack yet?"

Extra: You know the drill, set in a generic "Revived Morro lives w/ the Ninja" AU during any time after DotD. Also, I'm so sorry this is late-

"Did you pack yet?" Nya's voice echoed down the hall to her brother.

Her brother who apparently hasn't packed within the 4 whole months since we finalized the trip plans. Morro sighed, leaned against the wall of the monastery near P.I.X.A.L., Zane, Cole, and Wu. The others all scurried around inside to find some item or another as Nya scolded them or pointed out that Lloyd, your toothpaste is not in the kitchen; you don't need three bottles of hairspray, Kai; Jay, stop trying to pack that motherboard, you won't use it.

The wind elemental could feel the rage that radiated off his sibling element. An instinctive part of him wanted to reach out and comfort her through the wind, but he knows there's fondness in her frustration.

After some long minutes and at least two screeches, everyone was ready to go; which meant now they all awkwardly toted their suitcases as they tramped downstairs.

Morro resisted the urge to jump off the mountain and use the wind to cushion his landing.

They boarded a large custom built vehicle after shoving everyone's luggage into the trunk and drove off to the airport. Conversation fluttered around Morro as he listened to the muffled breeze on the other side of the glass window and some weirdly calming music Zane recommended him. The ex-ghost had been working on self-improvement and "anger management", or "feeling bombs" as Kai said.

"So, what's a plane?" Morro offhandedly asked. The thing sounded familiar, but since he spent most of his teen years up in the monastery (and 40 years as a ghost) he's a bit behind on technology.

"Think of a giant metal tube with wings. That's what it looks like. It's used to transport people far distances. Usually we'd use Destiny's Bounty, but it was destroyed during Garmadon's invasion," Zane explained.

"And why was Jay adamant that I need to fly on one?" Morro raised his eyebrow.

"Hey! Planes are awesome, and everyone deserves the joy of flying in a plane!" Jay piped as he crossed his arms.

"I can fly perfectly fine by myself," Morro huffed as the wind gusted the car in unison.

"No offense, Morro, but I don't think you could outfly a plane," Kai said from the seat in front of him.

"Is that a challenge?" Morro growled.

Remember how he said he had been working on his anger management? Yeah, emphasis on working.

"I can already see his gravestone: 'Rest in peace Morro. Died because he tried to race a plane'," Jay joked, hands out in front of him as if he was touching something invisible.

"Hey, if he can, I'll pay for everything on his end."

Wu sighed from his spot in the passenger's seat, "Just be careful, and watch where you're flying."

The Ninja spluttered, all saying something along the lines of "you're allowing this?!"

"Let me put it this way," he stroked his beard, "if you thought taking Lloyd's candy away was difficult, changing Morro's mind is… more or less impossible. The amount of stubbornness he has is more than all of yours multiplied together."

"And that is quite a lot," P.I.X.A.L. pointed out from the driver's seat.

Long story short, Morro was found in the airport's parking lot, panting and wheezing with hairs stuck to his face from the speed and sweat from exertion, lying on top of a royal blue car two whole hours before the Ninja landed.

Kai paid for everything Morro wanted on the trip.

[jaskwritesthings]

all eyes on me

Rating: Mature

Summary: Training your wizards is a very serious endeavour that requires a great deal of cunning.

Pairing/s: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast

Tag/s: alternate universe, post-canon, lingerie, strip tease, teasing, flirting, genderfluid molly

Author Note: happy early birthday to the wonderful @glossolali!!! 🎉🎉🎉

“Time for wizards to find their bed,” Molly said in a sing-songy voice he usually reserved for the youngest, most stubborn members of Veth’s camp.

The wizards, in question, were not paying attention to the slightly condescending tone, at all. Caleb hummed distractedly in the briefest acknowledgment that he had been spoken to, his eyes and mind still fixed on the crumpled and singed documents fanned out in front of him and Essek, each scrap of high quality paper holding secrets untouched since the Calamity.

“A few more minutes, Mollymauk,” Essek mumbled, his attention already pulled back towards a spell schematic that had captured his attention for some time now. It was half finished and mostly destroyed, but what he could translate was intriguing.

Once more, Essek cursed the gods for bringing Aeor low, the childish fit of rage that had robbed Exandria of an age of enlightenment and progress. There was so much promise and potential in their work, so much to learn and study, and more than half of what they’d found was turning out to be a test of their abilities to solve puzzles. It was a near endless source of frustration, but also excitement as more and more was revealed to them.

“That’s what you both said an hour ago,” Molly complained, a petulant note to their voice.

“Soon, Schatz,” Caleb placated emptily.

Molly sighed, loud and long, “How terrible…oh well, guess I’ll just have to entertain myself then.” He said in a tone that was too flippant and airy to do anything but set off multiple mental alarms of warning within his partners.

Caleb and Essek shared a knowing look, preparing for whatever mischief their partner had planned, and turned to face Molly. Neither were prepared for the sight waiting for them. Evidently, Molly had been entertaining themselves quite easily for the past hour in preparation for this moment.

The former circus entertainer was leaning against the frame of the door in a way that accented every curve and line of his body artfully, ever the fantastical performer even beyond the tent. Every move measured and designed for maximum effect. And it certainly had an effect on its intended audience.

The thin silken robe was a shimmering gold made of entirely of Caleb’s magic and mind which only added to its allure as it draped beautiful across Molly’s bared purple skin giving the rich darkness a delightful glow. The lacy suspenders and hazy stockings were the same burnt red as Molly’s eyes and only served to frame everything Molly had to offer. The fabric stretched along the length of his strong thighs, built over years of adventuring and performances that now spent many an evening wrapped around each of them tightly, holding them up or close, so very close, to him. Essek could almost feel the phantom heat against his own thighs, it made him shiver with want.

Their thick cock hung temptingly against their leg, peeking around the curtain of silk and beckoning them to come closer for a taste, out of the corner of Essek’s eyes he caught Caleb licking his lips in hungry anticipation.

Delicate golden chains dipped with iridescent jewels dangled from Molly’s pierced nipples, dripping like dew drops against the beautiful lace framed red corset that accented his waist and torso in a way that made them want to follow the lines with their lips and tongues until each path was well-marked and mapped.

Essek felt his mouth go dry as he took in the full work of art before him, and was unsurprised by the quiet Zemnian curse that came from beside him.

Molly pouted theatrically, “and the bed is so cold too.”

Essek whimpered in an undignified manner that he would deny to his dying day, as Caleb chocked on air.

“Bed sounds good,” Caleb said after taking a minute to locate his tongue and the common language once more.

“Does it now?” Molly smirked, twirling against the frame and arching his back in a playful stretch that he couldn’t even pretend was anything less than a show of his attributes, as his tail snapped like a whip through the air.

“Ja, time for bed,” Caleb said dumbly, apparently most of his braincells descending southward. Not that Essek felt all that intelligent in the face of such a wanton siren, Aeorian mages and their breakthroughs seemed so trivial in comparison to the divine being on display before them. The act of worship was far more understandable and reasonable now.

“Quite so, we’ve worked long enough,” Essek agreed quickly.

Molly chuckled as they dropped the act, relaxing into a more comfortable pose, wrapping the robe around their bared body and hiding away all the tantalising skin on offer. Caleb whimpered sadly as Essek felt his own disappointment flitter across his face, “Wunderbar, my loves, wizards need their beauty sleep after all and perhaps this’ll teach you about finding your bed a little earlier in the future.”

And with that abrupt bombshell Molly sauntered away without a single look over their shoulder, an air of smug satisfaction on a job well executed following them as they went, leaving Caleb and Essek to attempt to pull together enough thoughts to understand what just happened. Once the penny dropped, Caleb fell back heavily against the edge of the table, quietly chuckling to himself as Essek huffed and crossed his arms across his chest feeling quite peeved over the whole situation.

“Mister Tealeaf appears to be attempting to train us into better sleeping habits,” Essek grumbled after several minutes of silence.

Caleb laughed, “I would be more upset if their methods weren’t so…”

Essek’s tetchy mood quickly deflated as his thoughts drifted to Molly and the shining joy and delight that exuded from them, it was hard to stay mad in the face of Molly’s cocky grin and playful antics that kept them on their toes, made their lives far more interesting and enjoyable, “Enticing?”

“Ja,” Caleb exhaled in awe. Essek understood, he still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to win the hearts of not one but two brilliant people, but he was forever grateful to bask in their love for however long they granted it to him.  

“Perhaps we can convince him we’ve earned such a treat tonight?” Essek suggested slyly.

“He did get all dressed up, it would be a shame to waste it,” Caleb said conspiratorially. They shared a mischievous smirk before following Molly at a pace that wasn’t quite a jog, but was in no way a leisurely walk.