#terrifyingly massive

[agenaroace-a-fucking-disgrace]

You ever have to pause a YouTube video about space because it made you experience genuine terror and existential dread from trying to contemplate it?

[tiedsh0es]

Starclan Firestar but his old collar hovers above him like a halo lmao

[dandelion-wings]

anyway unrelated except the last post made me think of how Secret Summer Paradise didn't address Collei and Kaeya's interactions in the manga at all, and I don't believe I've shared that I justified this in part by deciding that, when Kaeya arrived in Sumeru, he came through Gandharva Ville. Tighnari remarked hearing from Lisa via Cyno that he liked mushrooms, fed him a mushroom dish, and then, twelve hours later when most of the vomiting was over, told him that it could've been worse and if he ever threatened Collei again it would be

[bucephaly]

Photos of the beasts

[proximacentaurib]

Save me dramatic sci-fi movie soundtracks while doing homework. Dramatic sci-fi movie soundtracks. Save me...

[cornerihaunt]

i’m literally trying to fall asleep

[metanarrates]

I haven't seen a lot of coverage in the news about this, but my state has just advanced legislation on a bill that would criminalize trans bathroom use in publicly owned buildings. this could mean up to 6 months in jail and up to $1000 in fees for those convicted.

most alarming aspects of this bill:

-"publicly owned buildings" include airports, schools, libraries, government offices, some hospitals, and most terrifyingly AND explicitly within the bill, domestic violence shelters and rape crisis facilities. transgender people, who are estimated to be almost 4 times more likely to be victims of violent crimes than cisgender people, could become criminalized in the very spaces they seek out to shelter from abuse.

-on that note, the bill potentially threatens federal funding of already-underfunded domestic violence and sexual assault facilities. to recieve federal grants, facilities are required to follow nondiscrimination laws. this law could place the facilities in danger of losing the grants they rely on. this is severely going to impact victims' abilities to access critically needed services.

-the bill legally defines "sex" in a way that has a lot of potential impact across state legislature. according to the bill’s text, HB 257 would legally define a female as “an individual whose biological reproductive system is of the general type that functions in a way that could produce ova,” and a male as “an individual whose biological reproductive system is of the general type that functions to fertilize the ova of a female.” this could effectively end the state's legal recognition of trans people.

-the bill demands that trans people who DO use bathrooms in publicly owned buildings must have undergone both gender reassignment surgery and have had their birth certificate changed. this has several issues, obviously, but the biggest one I want to highlight is that this opens the door to potential genital inspection by law enforcement if someone is accused of being transgender in a bathroom. in addition to any other indignities suffered by being harassed by cops when trying to use the restroom, it is completely possible for law enforcement to now demand to see whether someone's genitals are in compliance with these laws. it's an unconscionable and humiliating invasion of privacy.

-the bill requires trans students to develop a "privacy plan" with their school in order to arrange access to unisex spaces. if unisex bathrooms are unavailable, the student can be granted access to a sex-designated space “through staggered scheduling or another policy provision that provides for temporary private access.”

-the bill allows the state’s attorney general to impose a fine of up to $10,000 per day on local governments that don’t enforce the bill. in essence, any government that isn't sufficiently committed to enforcing these draconian laws may face massive fines until they have reached the attorney general's standard of enforcement.

this is one of the most unbelievably severe anti-trans laws that have ever been proposed in the united states. it would effectively ban trans people from participating in public life, harm nearly every single victim of domestic violence and sexual assault who seeks services in the state, enforce criminality on random trans people in bathrooms, and open every single person who could be potentially accused of being trans up to a wave of harassment and discrimination from both private citizens and law enforcement. I'm not being hyperbolic when I say that this law would literally force me and my transfemme fiancee to flee this state.

the law's been fast tracked to an insane degree through the legislature. similarly to the anti-dei bill currently making its way through, it's only been a week since it was introduced, and it's already passed the house, and is now up for vote in the senate. if it passes both sets of votes, the only thing left in its way is the governor's decision to veto.

please share this post. make as much noise as you can. if you live in utah, please call and email your district senator as soon as possible. it doesn't matter how late you see this. the bill is up for vote this week (1/23/24 at the time of writing) and we need to do whatever we physically can to protest its passing. we've already moved past the opportunity for public comment on the bill, but a few organizations have called for a rally at the capitol steps on thursday (1/25/24) at noon. if you are in the salt lake area or are able to make it there, please consider attending. wear a mask and bring a sign. we are stronger together.

[wanders-in-wonderland]

The Popular Vote

The livestream always happens on midnight of Saturday. There’s a hefty buy-in to be able to tune in but that never stops the audience from growing in number every stream. Every viewer has one ballot per round, each round is different. Cast your ballot before the vote ends and the majority option gets played out in real-time.

This Saturday night, I made the mistake of staying overtime at work, and I missed the last train home. Which meant walking alone on a dark path that, in the daylight, would be a breezy twenty minute stroll. But at night, it’s a different story. And clearly, since that dark trek put me in the perfect position to be taken away in a van by men who were interested in seeing me crying and screaming in pain and pleasure, at the whim of a merciless audience.

When I wake up, I’m naked and tied up, arms and legs spread out, suspended from the ceiling, with each foot on a small platform that offered enough support to take the strain off my arms and shoulders but not enough to offer any true leverage.

It takes me a few minutes to shake off the grogginess of whatever sedative they’d drugged me with, but when I do, I feel my blood run cold.

I’m surrounded by massive screens, several of which show live footage of my predicament from different angles. The screen that scares me the most is the one showing a live chat feed, with a constant barrage of messages coming in from viewers. The set-up is terrifyingly sophisticated and fear curdles my stomach in a way that makes tears well up in my eyes.

“Please! Please let me go!” I cry into the cold, unfeeling room of machinery and screens. My body struggles against the bindings but there’s no give. There’s no audible reply but I watch the chat light up with comments that make me shudder.

“I fucking love when the whores beg before we’ve even started.”

“She’s hot when she’s squirming, can’t wait to see how much she struggles tonight.”

“I wanna see her beg for mercy. Not that there will be any.”

I sob harder, tears making the chat box blurry in my vision. It doesn’t take long for me to figure out that there’s no one and nothing saving me from whatever is going to happen here.

Suddenly, a robotic voice fills the room. “Welcome to The Popular Vote. For those of you who are new to the show, please remember that each of you have a single vote to cast during every round. Vote in the allotted time and our team will implement the majority vote’s decision. Please enjoy the show.”

I gasp when the door to the room opens and four men walk in, dressed in identical black uniforms with masks covering their faces.

“Please! Please, let me go, this is a mistake!” My desperate voice fills the room but has no impact on the men, they didn’t even look in my direction, instead walking past me towards a storage cabinet behind me.

I watch through the camera’s footage as they open the cabinets and start to pull out item after item. Each one makes me more and more scared as they pull out various toys, vibrators, and other devices and machines I don’t even recognize.

There’s an electronic ding that fills the room and the same robotic voice is back. “Our first poll is beginning. Please vote now. Option 1 is subjecting our victim to clitoral stimulation by vibrator. Option 2 is vaginal penetrative stimulation by fucking machine.”

I cry out, “Wait, no, please! I don’t want this, please stop!” I watch in vain as the votes start to roll in on the screen, a feeling of helplessness overwhelming me as I watch two competing bars increase in percentage on the screen as viewers place their ballots.

There’s a robotic series of dings that sound, signaling the final few seconds of voting and through my panic, I see that the second option has pulled ahead of the first.

I choke out another sob as I watch the four men in the room start moving towards me. Two of them are rolling a machine over, a motorized piston with a massive dildo attached to the end of it. Clearly it’s meant for me.

“Please, please, no, I don’t want this, please stop!” I know it’s useless to beg but I can’t help it. My voice is shaky and thin with apprehension and I can tell it has no effect on any of the men. I glance to the chat box and the messages there make me feel even more helpless.

“That whore is going to love that machine, these little sluts always do.”

“I hope she squirts and cries when she realizes she likes this, stupid whore is going to get fucking ruined.”

In the few moments I spent reading comments, the men have rolled the fucking machine right under me and started to raise it to reach my core.

With my legs tied down and spread, there is nothing protecting me from the toy and it’s violation of me. I feel the tip of the fake cock brush my core and I thrash pointlessly, barely able to move to make a difference.

As the machine continues to rise, I feel my stomach clench when I realize that my pussy is wet. I gasp when I feel the tip of the dildo breach my core, the thickness of the toy filling me so well that I can’t help but groan. The machine continues, pushing the toy slowly and steadily filling my cunt. My back arches as I feel it rub against every part of my now-dripping cunt and I whine when it finally comes to a stop, fully seated inside of me.

I’m panting, the massive dildo splitting me open in a way that feels so fucking good. I clench around it and whimper when pleasure shoots up my spine. I glance at the livestream and see my own image, my eyes wild and body heaving from the pleasure of just having the toy inside of me. The chat box is flooded with comments about me, the way I look, the sounds I make, and the anticipation of what is to come.

Suddenly, one of the men in the room toggles a switch on the machine, and it begins.

My scream is drawn-out and wanton in response to the indescribable pleasure that floods my every sense. The men set the machine at a relentless pace, the huge cock driving into my cunt ruthlessly at a pace that is virtually inhuman.

I’m lost in the sensation of every single thrust sliding against my g-spot and slamming into my cervix, the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. I can feel my body trembling at the onslaught of raw, unadulterated pleasure and the sounds that the machine is pulling from my lips could make a pornstar blush. I can feel the creeping warmth of an orgasm fast approaching as the machine fucks me into submission.

Suddenly, an electronic ding sounds. The robotic voice comes on again, with an announcement that barely registers in my pleasure-scrambled brain. “Please vote to determine the next step. Option 1 subjects our victim to forced orgasms, option 2 is edging and orgasm denial, and option 3 is ruined orgasms.”

I whine and plead but I don’t even know what I’m begging for. My eyes are too unfocused to see the progression of the vote, and of the options, I can’t even begin to fathom which would be the best. I hear the three dings that signal the vote has ended and I force my eyes to focus on the screen, my stomach clenching when I see the result: ruined orgasms.

The machine hasn’t relented on its motions, each thrust driving into my wet cunt in a way that is so perfectly and achingly torturous. My clit is throbbing and part of me wishes I could grind it against something, anything to give me a little more stimulation to push me over the edge. But there’s nothing beyond the machine forcing its cock deep inside of me, making me ride the wave of pleasure that pushes me towards to precipice of a massive orgasm. I feel my entire body tense in response to the impending onslaught of pleasure and my pussy clenches around the dildo splitting me open.

Two more hard thrusts pushes me over the edge and I let out a moaning scream as I feel the tension snap and my body clenches in burning pleasure. A seemingly endless wave of overwhelming and uncontrollable pleasure slams into me as my orgasm erupts. At that exact moment, the toy inside of me a delivers a horrible jolt of electricity, one that slams through my cunt and cruelly and abruptly yanks my body away from pleasure.

The pain takes my breath away but my body reacts more to my ruined orgasm than it does the shock. My moan turns into a wail as useless pleas pour out of my mouth, tears running down my cheeks as I feel the toy continue to fuck me through the disappointment of an orgasm it forced upon me. There’s a cruel emptiness inside of me despite the unrelenting fake cock that fills me with every thrust and a gut-wrenching, unfulfilling hunger that overtakes the pleasure that was horribly ripped away from me.

“Ah, fuck, please, please make it stop!” My voice is ragged and desperate as I plead for mercy from an uncaring audience. The men in the room are maintaining their cold indifference towards my suffering as the machine under their control continues to batter my body.

I feel my body shudder in overstimulation as the merciless machine pushes me closer to another orgasm. There’s no break or respite and my pleas fall onto deaf ears.

And as before, just as I feel my orgasm approaching, the feverish pleasure barely rises within me before it’s ripped away, ruined by the delivery of a shocking pain through my pussy that makes me scream in anguish.

The next time it happens, I hear myself wail out desperate cries and pleas that are met with silence. The time after that, my body jerks pitifully in the bindings as every muscle tenses in grief. The one following is the strongest one yet, the constant buildup and denial pushing my body to the brink of tortured pleasure. As the achingly sweet orgasm barrels through me, my pussy clenches down and gushes with my release. I can feel my own juices flowing down my legs, but my squirting orgasm isn’t any different than the previous cruelly ruined ones. The impeccably-timed electric shock yanks my body back from what would have been a mind-shattering, toe-curling sensation and leaves me feeling hollow and helpless.

After that, I stop keeping track of the ruined orgasms. My body should have been shuddering from the overstimulation of countless orgasms but instead, it aches with a voracious, unfulfillable ache that creates an unbearable cycle of horrible, desperate need barely satisfied with every orgasm until it’s torn away. The predictability of it does nothing to assuage the torment, it only makes it worse, to have every beautiful moment of pleasure marred by the inevitable loss that I can do nothing about.

An electronic ding breaks through the haze, another round. The machine beneath me pauses and I choke back a sob at the temporary relief, desperately try to focus on the words that are being announced.

“Our next round will be introducing pharmacological enhancements and orgasm denial. Please select to determine which of the following will be administered to our victim. Option 1 is administration of our proprietary aphrodisiac with no excess stimulation. Option 2 is administration of our proprietary numbing treatment with clitoral stimulation by vibrator.”

My mind wraps around the meaning behind the announcement and I feel myself tremble with desperation. I want nothing more than to cum, just to feel the full, body-shaking, mind-numbing torrent of pleasure that will flood me when a full, uninterrupted orgasm washes over me. But it’s clear that they have other plans.

I watch as the votes roll in, my heart pounding as the two options are very evenly matched in popularity. I brave a glance at the chat box and whimper when I see the comments.

“I fucking love driving a whore insane with denial. I wonder what kind of promises she’ll make to try and convince us to let her cum.”

“If she were mine, I’d never let her cum again. Sluts don’t deserve orgasms.”

Three dings break my concentration and I swing my gaze over to see the results. Option 2 has won out, but barely. I whimper softly as the four men immediately begin to set up. I watch as they wheel the fucking machine out from under me. A blush stains my cheeks when I see the dildo dripping in slick, evidence of my countless ruined orgasms.

I watch through heavy lidded eyes as one of the men reached for a small container. He deftly opens it and dips a gloved finger in, his finger coming out coated in a creamy ointment.

I watch as he comes towards me, his ointment-covered fingers coming to meet my clit in a soft motion that makes me cry out. He is thorough as he rubs the ointment onto my clit, his fingers gently moving against me, offering a delicious friction that pushes me closer towards another orgasm.

The curling warmth of an oncoming rush builds in my core but before I could fully embrace the pleasure, he pulls away and I choke out a whine. “No please, please I’m so close,” my voice is so broken to my own ears but not enough to sway the man.

They wheel out a different machine, this one shaped like a saddle, lined with ridges that line up perfectly to vibrate against and wreak havoc on my sensitive clit. It doesn’t take long for the men to position the machine underneath me. I feel the cold material of the machine against my burning hot pussy and without even thinking about it, I start to grind myself against it. A broken moan leaves my lips at the pleasure that fills me and I whine softly, trying harder to move myself to rub my throbbing clit against the machine that was very quickly starting to dampen from my dripping cunt.

I know without looking at my own image on the livestream that I made for a shameful display of wanton lust and desperation but I couldn’t bring myself to care. My hips move desperately, the bindings making it so that my movements were limited but not impossible. My eyes drift shut as I chase the pleasure, continuing to grind against the machine.

I can feel myself approaching my orgasm, a few more moments and I could almost taste the sweet pleasure. But something was wrong. Even as I rolled my hips against the machine, I could feel sensation fading in between my legs. My clit throbs and aches but the feeling of the ridges against me has become muted, and no matter how hard I grind myself against the machine, the result was the same and I’m faced with the reality that the orgasm I was chasing so closely is too far out of reach now.

I cry out, begging into the void, “Please, no, please! Make it come back, please! I need to cum, I need it!”

My begs are met with silence and I glance towards the chat box, hoping to see something, anything, that would bring me relief. But there’s nothing but cruel, taunting comments.

“Dumb fucking whore doesn’t even understand what’s happening to her stupid body.”

“They haven’t even turned on the machine yet and she’s crying. I love when sluts realize that there’s nothing they can do against the numbing cream.”

“Her clit is so fucking swollen, I hope she doesn’t get a good orgasm at all tonight.”

Suddenly, the machine beneath me roars to life. I gasp when I feel the vibrations course through my body, the harsh motion batters my clit, but instead of being overwhelmed with pleasure, all I can feel is a vague sensation. I sob when the real understanding of what is happening sinks in. The numbing cream they used on me has left me completely unable to feel the machine. I can feel my pussy clenching in need, dripping over the machine uselessly, unable to enjoy any of it. There are wordless whines and begs erupting from my lips as I chase an unreachable end. I beg because there’s nothing else I can do, and because I know that’s what the audience wants to see.

As my mind wraps around this knowledge, I feel broken. My pussy clenches at the understanding that I’m here purely for other people’s entertainment. My suffering is for their enjoyment, and every orgasm ruined, denied, or forced out of my helpless body is done so without any regard to me or my pleasure. I stare into the camera as the machine underneath me batters my clit in a way that should be making me scream. Despite that realization, or maybe because of that realization, my cunt is leaking and clenching and throbbing. My entire being has narrowed to my clit and my cunt, the ghost sensations of pleasure brushing against my psyche.

My mind is fracturing under the torment of nothing. It tries to rationalize, to make feeling where there is none, and if I really focus, I can fool myself into believing that my clit isn’t numb, isn’t blind to the torturous machine that should be pulling orgasm after orgasm out of me. I don’t know how long I’m suspended in nothingness, how long I’m held in this punishing situation of unreachable pleasure.

Three dings pull me out of my mindless misery. My eyes jump to the screen, seeing the chat light up with excited comments about what’s the come. The robotic voice fills the room.

“We reach the end of our night together and our final poll, please vote now. Option 1 allows our victim to be subjected to forced orgasms after we administer the antidote to the numbing cream in combination with targeted electrostimulation while option 2 involves continued denial with impact play and flogging.”

I can’t stop myself from screaming into the room. “Please! Please, fuck, please let me cum! Please!”

I writhe and renew my struggling, starting to futilely grind myself against the vibrator, hoping that the vote will go in my favor. My eyes glance towards to chat box, my heart pounding in anticipation as I read the flood of messages, hoping desperately for mercy.

“I don’t think this fucking whore deserves to cum tonight, I’d rather see her get her tits whipped.”

“I want to see her pass out from being forced to cum over and over again. Plus I wanna see her tight little body shake with electricity.”

My eyes flit to the results of the poll and my heart leaps when I realize option 1 is pulling ahead. Three dings confirm the results of the vote and immediately, I see one of the men approach me with the antidote.

I sob when his fingers brush this new ointment over my swollen clit and all I can do is babble out whines of gratitude. It doesn’t take long for the antidote to take effect as the vibration of the toy begins to wreck me.

There’s no slow, soft build of pleasure. There’s only pure, bone-shattering sensation that slams into me. It tears my breath away and my body erupts in orgasm. The countless denied and ruined orgasms from the beginning of the night seem to have compounded into one horrible explosion of pleasure that rips through me.

I have no sense of the world around me, my entire being has narrowed to the overwhelming wave of sensation. My cunt pulses, spraying my release over the machine that offers me no respite as it forces my body to unimaginable heights.

Suddenly, a sharp jolt of pain along my side breaks into my haze. My eyes dart over and I see the four men crowded around me, each holding an electric wand that pulses a harsh zap through me at every touch.

“No! Please! Stop!” I scream, my voice pitching higher as the men start their torment. Quick jabs around the soft skin of my stomach, hips, thighs, and arms make me scream and thrash but none of that dulls any of the feeling from the vibrator between my legs.

The pain and pleasure rocks through my body and mind, both blending together in a cruel medley that draws wordless screams from my throat. Another orgasm slams through me right as I feel a terrible zap on my nipple. The scream that bursts out of me makes my own ears ache. My psyche is cracking under the onslaught of torment and there’s not a single part of my body that isn’t screaming in overstimulation. I’m nothing more than a collection of raw nerves and throbbing muscles.

The next zap hits the exposed part of my clit and my ears ring as my vision fades to black. That’s the last thing I remember from that night.

When I wake up the next morning, I’m home, in my own bed, my body achingly sore and exhausted. I glance to my bedside table and I see an envelope. In it is a USB and a note with a phone number.

“Enjoy the footage, we certainly did. Call us if you want a repeat.”

I crawl out of bed to grab my laptop and phone, and I save the number to my contacts.

------

Author's Note: I think this is my longest story yet and hope y'all enjoy! Also, I like to imagine this happens in the same universe as Pay to Play, and I'm jealous because I want to live in that universe ;)

[dark-moonlust]

Orc King x Elf Princess PART 1: The union

Pairing: Orc monster x elf princess reader

Summary: the elven and orc kingdoms are at odds and in a desperate attempt to keep the peace, the elder rulers decide to marry you, an elf princess to the King of the Orcs.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, virgin reader, dub consent, orc huge 🍆, buckets of come. Don’t like, don’t read please.

Find PART 2 here.

I hope you like how juicy it came out *wink, wink*.

It was no secret that the elven and orc kingdoms were at odds for centuries.

But lately, the shimmering tension was at its worst, the two races threatening to start a war.

In a desperate attempt to keep the peace, the two elder rulers of both lands decided on a political marriage to unite their kingdoms.

You, the only princess of the elves was chosen by your father to be the bride of the King of the Orcs.

The decision had stunned you, made you want to flee from the palace and seek a life away from politics. But no matter how much you craved to be free, no matter your dread and repulsion at the match, you decided to marry the orc King. You had your people to protect and as their princess you had a great burden to bear. You were willing to sacrifice your happiness for the greater good.

The day you met your orc husband would be forever seared in your mind. You met him at the wedding ceremony, he stood proudly in the grand hall, an imposing figure dressed in leather armor and a long black cape. A towering, brutish form. The Orc King was terrifyingly big, two heads taller than you. He was muscular all over, his green skin marred with scars and his mouth twisted into a sneer, revealing sharp teeth.

The wedding ceremony was grand, filled with cheers and hopes for the future for both kingdoms.

A chill of fear ran through you when the time came to bed your husband and seal the union. As you looked up at him, you met his eyes, dark and predatory. He grabbed your arm, his grip ironclad, lifted you over his shoulder and carried you to the royal chambers. You protested but he ignored your wild thrashing, and before you could gather yourself, he plopped you down the bed, his massive body pinning you in place.

His hands, huge and calloused from years of battle, roamed over your delicate body. “Pretty wife.”

“Hn… wait—I do not want this,” you said, trying to push him away, even if your strength was nothing compared to his.

“I understand this is a fate you dislike, but it is one you can’t escape.”

You grimaced at him. “You brutish orc. At least give me some time—”

“To escape?” he filled your sentence, his face hard.

“Never, I’d never risk the safety of my people.”

“Then stay here. In my bed. Be mine,” he growled, his voice deep and menacing. “My Queen to fuck and use over and over.”

“I’m not a piece of meat—mph!”

His mouth claimed yours, his tongue pushing past your parted lips, thrusting deep in your throat. You groaned when huge hands cupped your neck, keeping you in place to take his feral kiss. Your eyes started to roll back, chest heaving, gagging a little on the appendage long appendage shoved down your throat.

At the same time, you felt him tearing at your clothes. The satin fabric of your wedding dress was ripped and tossed away, your underwear following until you were fully exposed to him. You shivered and gasped when his tongue finally left your mouth. His eyes devoured your naked form and you felt goosebumps awakening under his gaze.

He was also naked, you noticed, the contrast between your bodies striking. You were small and soft, and he was hulking and muscled, his massive frame filled with scars. His green skin glistened in the dimly lit room, his eyes locked onto yours with a raw hunger that made your breath hitch. And between his legs… you closed your eyes. You didn’t want this thing inside you.

“Such pretty breasts,” he said roughly, his hands cupping both breasts and jutting them up in his mouth. He captured one pert nipple in the warmth of mouth and flicked it hard. You gasped, pushing him away but he turned to the other bud, giving it the same attention. The unwanted pleasure was too much, you hated him, oh you hated him, but his touch sent jolts of goosebumps through your body.

“Gentle…hmnn,” you bit your lip, struggling to stifle your reactions. “Be gentle.”

“If I’m be gentle, will you let me fuck you, my bride?”

“Hmmm…” you muttered, your treacherous pussy pooling with heat.

“Say it,” he said, finding your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin. “Say that you want me to fuck you.”

You grumbled. “Just do it.”

“Say it.” He looked at you straight in the eye.

“Fine! I want you to f-f-uck me,” you muttered incredulously.

Satisfied, he moved his massive hands down your body, clutched your knees and spread them apart. He slipped between them, his eyes drawn to your creamy thighs and the pretty glistening pussy with the plump folds. Rough fingers trailed over your mound and you whimpered, fear and arousal clouding your thoughts. He found your entrance, it was pooling with slick and he thrust a thick finger inside. The wet squelch echoed in your ears as that wicked finger delved deep inside until it met with resistance.

“Hnn—”

“Tight little cunny,” he said in a sultry voice, “my bride is a virgin. I am honored.”

With surprising gentleness, he changed your positions and flipped you to ride him, your face level with his groin. His cock jutted up in front of your face, a monstrous green shaft with veins traveling from base to the flared tip. The thing was huge, throbbing and pulsing with pre-cum and under it were the biggest balls you’d ever seen, swollen and angry red.

“Touch,” he ordered, thrusting his hips against your mouth.

Strangely attracted to his cock, you guided fingers to him, tracing the massive length of him. He was impossibly hard yet soft, thick and heavy in your hand. You cupped his hardness but your small hands couldn’t wrap entirely around him. But your orc husband seemed to like it because he let out a low, approving growl.

“Good. Now put me in your warm mouth. Use your little hands for what you can’t fit.”

You glanced back at him, enraged at his request. How dare he! His eyes flashed with challenge and cupping your nape, he turned your head and slammed you down onto his shaft. The throbbing head pushed past your lips, stretching them wide. You let out a sharp hiss and gurgled when the tip kissed the back of your throat.

“Suck me good, wife. I want my dick to glisten with your spit,” he said while he gripped your hips, pulling your cunt to his eager mouth. You protested but he jerked up his hips again, forcing you to take his cock deeper. You gagged, your lips stretched and filled with massive orc cock.

Gluck, gluck, gluck… the sounds of you sucking him echoed all over the chamber, along with his vibrating growls of approval. He taught you how to please him, pulling your head back enough for you to breathe before swallowing his dick down again, his thick shaft molding in your throat. Amidst slurps and moans around his dick, he cupped your ass and spread your cheeks apart.

How thumbs drew your pussy folds apart, exposing your little slit. “Pretty pussy.”

“Hmph—ple… glglhh… ease,” you tried to talk but his cock made it difficult.

“You are mine,” he said, lightly slapping your pussy. “My wife, my Queen, my mate to fuck and please. And I am yours. Your husband, your King, your mate to fuck and please.”

His words empowered you, made you worship his dick anew. He, in turn, feasted on your cunt, teasing your dripping folds with his mouth. You were more aroused than ever and he easily slid a finger inside you, stretching your walls and curling it just right. You whimpered around the girth of his orc cock. He added a second finger, a rough groan escaping him when he saw your cunt clenching tightly around it. His mouth found your clit, his agile tongue swirling round and round.

The sensations were too much that forced you to leave his cock and let out a hoarse cry.

You came, thrashing violently.

Clutching his hard cock with both hands, your fingers wrapping around it like a lifeline, you rocked your hips against his face and came wildly, explosively. But he didn’t stop. He kept going, his fingers thrusting deeper, his mouth working your clit shamelessly. Slurps and growls filled your ears as he devoured your pussy, lapping up your juices as if they were ambrosia.

Then the world around you tilted on its axis and you found yourself in his powerful arms. He held you against his chest, your legs spread on either side of his thighs. His panting chest rubbed against your breasts, his cock wet with your saliva and pulsing against your bellybutton.

“And now, Queen of mine, you shall take your King’s cock.”

Carefully, very carefully, he lifted you and lowered you down onto his cock, the flared head spreading your pussy lips and surging up your virgin entrance. You winched a little as he filled you, inch by delectable inch and you clutched him tighter against you, your breath hitching when he bottomed out.

He was inside you, his cock balls deep and it even made your stomach bulge. He seems fascinated at the sight of it.

No longer a virgin.

“Beautiful. My beautiful Queen,” he purred, kissing you passionately. “Made to take orc dick.“

“Mmph… m-more, please, ahhhh…"

Hands on your waist, he lifted you off his cock, his length coming out glistening with your juices and a trace of virgin blood. He growled, deeply and primitively and then thrust you down, his shaft disappearing inside you. He pounded you to the edge of ecstasy and you came hard around him, sweet climax rolling through you. Your contractions triggered his own release, and with a defeating roar, he spurted inside you, his cock pulsing so strongly that you came again with frantic aftershocks. Thick streams of cum filled you up, overflowing and trickling down your shaking thighs and making a mess.

You collapsed on his broad chest, feeling his solid warmth and inhaling his masculine scent. Your husband rubbed your spine, kissed your forehead and whispered praises about how good you were to him and how proud he was to have you as his Queen. You felt a glimmer of hope, but you were too tired to ponder over it so with a soft smile you fell asleep in his embrace.

Did you enjoy? Hit me up with your thoughts! Inbox is also open 🖤

[wiisagi-maiingan]

Becoming a gardener has made me discover so many different types of bugs that I never knew about. I had no idea that my area had so many native bees (there's a species of North American bee that only visits squash plants!! there are bright green metallic bees!!). I've seen bugs behave in ways that I've never found anyone talk about irl or online (a garden near me has a catnip plant that is ALWAYS covered in blue mud dauber wasps, why?). I've learned that there's many, many bugs and other creepy crawlies that are impossible to find information about online for whatever reason, and there's many spiders specifically that I've never been able to find the names of.

It's also made me terrifyingly, devastatingly aware of how few bugs there are compared to when I was a kid and that those numbers are visibly dropping every year. Butterflies are still a rare sight, no matter how hard I try. I'm getting more bees visiting my squash and bean plants, but less in the flowers. The wasp nest that was built near my window like it is every year is considerably smaller than previous years, even with more material to build with and a consistent source of water nearby. There's fewer grass spiders and the huge orb weavers I loved so much have disappeared completely in the last couple years.

We've stopped raking the leaves. We've planted more things, even started a wildflower garden. I've set out bug baths and a bee house. I'm planning on planting more next year, but will that even help? How can my little yard even begin to undo just a fraction of a fraction of the damage done by climate change and massive loss of habitats?

This isn't meant to be a doomer post, so please don't lecture at me like it's one. I'm just tired and sad and I miss my spiders.

[dilvei]

vei sama i have a request pwetty pls may i get yandere!monster x m reader it can be scenarios or oneshot or even a drabble i am so hungry for your writing

𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ( y! naga x m! human reader )

yandere! naga x m! human reader

warnings:

kidnapping

creepy + stalking behavior

dubcon/noncon

oh and some venom poisoning

brief mentions of corpses

first post here so idk what to add help

thank you for requesting pookie 🙏🙏 this almost went into smut territory ngl but i remember u said u only want a little bit of sexy so i'll end it right there hehe + i think its better for it to stop right there too so :)) hope you love this one since i know you like snake bois 🎀🎀

✾ | you are a hunter, a monster hunter, to be exact; stalking predators under the safety of shadows, silently prowling, avidly watching.

✾ | you have always known the dangers ever since you were but a little boy, ever since your father fell victim to the large amount of dangerous beast leeching their hide in the darkness of the woods.

✾ | but being a monster hunter has its perks—money, for one—and you are never one to deny yourself, especially when you have the perfect set of skills that would make the job much, much easier.

✾ | the request that forever alters the fate of your life comes in a murky, rainy evening, brought to you by a young survivor who lived to tell the tale.

✾ | the heaving man with haunted eyes comes to you immediately, pace frantic as he pushes through the crowded tavern to hand you a heavy bag of gold.

✾ | "this is only a quarter of it," he says as he pants, a hand shivering as he holds on to his own cloth. "i want you to kill the hideous beast hiding in the cave. i want him dead by the morrow."

✾ | by the time the clouds above has parted enough to let way for the moonlight to shine on the damp earth below, you are already in gear, striding into the forest with a rabid-like smile.

✾ | if only you had known that, this time, the monster you'd thought would be your prey, has been eagerly awaiting your presence all this time.

✾ | as you wait near the cave, searching for signs of life from a safe distance, your predator is all smiles, feasting on your figure from afar, unseen, patient.

✾ | when you think to yourself there is no monster hiding inside the cave, nothing but a mountain of corpses and bones that's putrid smell crawls under your skin, the creature lunges from the shadows, presence felt before seen.

✾ | your weapon helplessly clatters to the ground before the creature swiftly seizes both your wrists behind your back with a single, powerful hand. then, a cruel, slithering tail entwines your lower body, coils tightening around you with inescapable force, rendering you immobile in the creature's grasp.

✾ | you cannot run, so you twist your neck for a glimpse, only for both awe and horror to fill your lungs. it almost leaves you breathless.

✾ | you realize that the creature that has captured you is a naga, a serpent guardian, a half-human and half-snake, feared and revered in equal measure.

✾ | his upper body is unmistakably human, with muscular arms and a face that is both eerily beautiful and terrifyingly alien. his lower body, however, is a massive, sinuous tail, its powerful coils tightening around you with every passing second.

✾ | the naga smiles at you, and an instinctive shiver wracks your body, a distant part of your mind realizing that, somehow, the naga has been patiently waiting for this, for all of this, for you.

✾ | the naga's grip tightens, pulling you closer until you can feel the heat of his scorching breath against your skin.

✾ | slowly, almost deliberately, he laps at your trembling neck with his forked tongue. the twin tips of his tongue flicker over your pulse point, sending hot shivers down your spine.

✾ | and then, without warning, he plunges his sharp teeth into your neck, a searing pain radiating from the puncture wounds, a breathless gasp escaping your lips.

✾ | you can feel his venom coursing through your veins, a burning heat spreading from the bite as your vision blurs and your limbs grow heavy. it takes hold quickly, the venom rendering you completely powerless against him.

"You are adorable, little hunter," the naga says, sweetly. He releases his hold on your hands, now that you are unable to struggle, and cradles you against him, pressing you flush against his upper body, as if to soothe you.

His hand carefully caresses your cheek as he looks down at you, smiling gently, almost proudlike. "A human who acts like we are prey, a human who thinks himself better than us. How rare it is to find a piece of treasure like yourself."

With the last of your strength, not yet rendered useless by the venom, you turn your head away, only for his fingers to catch your chin, tilting your gaze back to him.

"I have been watching," he croons, "for quite some time now. My eyes have always followed you, whenever you stepped foot into these woods."

Your breath hitches at the confirmation, but even more so at how utterly enamored the naga sounds as he says those haunting words.

"My little hunter, my adorable treasure. Your presence has tempted me for so very long now. I could no longer ignore it, especially when I imagined how exquisite you would look under my grasp."

You feel utterly helpless, and it doesn’t help when he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “So I made a plan.”

You close your eyes, but you can still feel the naga’s gaze piercing into you.

"The man who gave you this job—a frail, pathetic-looking man, wasn’t he? It was I who sent him.” He laughs, a cruel and chilling sound. "It was I who ordered him to find you, to send you here, so you could be all mine."

A soft kiss is pressed against your cheek, and you suppress your urge to vomit.

"I'm glad you arrived here safely, my little hunter. I am so utterly happy, so utterly famished to taste you, to taste everything of you."

His heavy breath is against your ear now, and you can feel him grin as he asks, "You would want that too, wouldn't you?"

You open your eyes, see the crazed look in his slitted eyes, and tremble once more. "There is no need for such fear in your eyes, my sweet darling. I am not your villain," he sing songs.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

"I am not your predator, and nor are you my prey."

Your jaw clenches as your mind spins and spins and spins.

The naga chuckles at your expression, wanting to forever etch it into his mind. "You and I. We will only ever be each other's. I am yours, and you are mine."

"Beast," you finally spit out, venom lacing your voice.

The naga pauses, his eyes widening, before an absolutely elated expression crosses over his face. He seems terribly sated as he, so very slowly, whispers to you his greatest and utmost desire, "I am your beast. Forever."

[stevieschrodinger]

TW for Eddie getting hurt (but he's okay). And Human Trafficking.

Link to part Two

Steve leans against Carol's desk, "here are your messages, I fobbed off the Times interview - they're going to email you their questions instead." He's listening to Carol, but he's watching, frowning.

There's a man in his office.

"Lunch call with the Singapore office is on. Your suite for the gala is back from the dry cleaners, it's in your bathroom."

"Right, the gala," Steve answers absently. It's a corner office, lots of glass, so it's impossible to miss the man in his office. The man who is calmly, right now, looking at the framed photo Steve has of his parents. It's basically a prop, Steve never got on with them, but that is not the point. Some random guy is touching Steve's shit.

"And my nine thirty?"

"Had to move it, don't worry, they were fine about it."

"Right," Carol's leaning over the desk now, watching the man right along with Steve, "I assume that's why you had to cancel my nine thirty."

"Uh hu," she's tapping her nails on the top of the desk, and she's so fucking infuriating, if she wasn't so fucking good at her job Steve would have booted her years ago.

"You're going to make me ask aren't you??

Carol gives him a massive shit eating grin, "ask what, sir?"

"Jesus fucking christ," Steve sighs, "who is that in my office."

"Not sure," Carol shrugs, grinning because she's pleased she's being such a dick, "security brought him up," she leans over the desk, whispering like she's imparting a secret, "pretty sure they said something that sounded like FBI."

And then she sits down, tapping at her computer and painting her nails or doing whatever it is she does all day. Harassing mail boys, probably. God she's like a fucking shark, but that what Steve gets, he wanted a competent secretary, what he got was a fucking guard dog.

Steve's not complaining. He'd been weary of hiring a female Alpha and then shoving her behind a desk, but it turns out Carol is terrifyingly efficient and fucking fearless, so it's kind of a win win.

Steve stares at the man in his office for a second longer, trying to figure out what the fuck he's done. he wonders if he's somehow accidentally committed major tax fraud, or something. He's pretty sure he hasn't, but the panic spiral is sitting there, looking inviting, anyway.

Steve goes into his office, and the man turns. He's tall, well built, kind of portly with age, maybe, but Steve still wouldn't fuck with the guy. He's not wearing blockers of any sort, so Steve's office now smells of strange, uninvited, Alpha. Great.

"Jim Hopper," he says, extending his hand, "FBI."

"Steve Harrington," Steve replies, even though he's certain it's pointless, this guy knows exactly who he is.

The guy is already producing paperwork as Steve takes his seat on the other side of his desk, "standard non disclosure, Mr. Harrington."

Steve gives it a once over, he's signed enough of these, and been involved with the legal team enough, that he feels confident enough. He signs it, knowing he won't get any answers until he does.

"I'll get right to it, time is tight. I've been working to dismantle an Omega trade ring for nearly eighteen months now. We're almost ready to move, teams are in place, inks drying on the warrants, cells are all picked out."

Steve nods, okay. He knew Omega trade was a thing, a barbaric, highly illegal thing. Human trafficking of the worst form, he gestures for Hopper to continue.

"If we go in now, we will likely get a few of the higher ups, we'll rescue approximately two dozen Omega, it'll be a success." Steve goes to speak, wondering what the fuck this has to do with him, Hopper waves him down, "we've been here before; I've made this mistake once before. If we don't get the people at the top, this thing will grow back in a years time. I want them all."

Steve gets that. His head is spinning a little. He knows things like this go on, you see about it on the news, but it does sound a bit...like a spy movie.

Hopper puts a photograph on Steve's desk, "you know this man?"

And Steve does. They're not what Steve would call friends; more of a good tempered rivalry. And yeah, Steve had Daddy's money, but Tommy had his Daddy's company. They came up at the same time, went after the same deals. Move in the same circles, Steve's known him for years. Steve's disliked him for years, "you're not suggesting Tommy Hagan is...the head of some sort of, human slavery outfit?" Knowing how ruthless Tommy can be, how questionable his methods are...Steve's still struggling to see him as...this.

"I'm not suggesting it. I'm telling you as fact. You've known him a long time, and we have to move fast. The charity gala tonight, you'll both be there."

"Right, sure, but I don't exactly see what I can do about this."

"Hagan moves the...high end product. Very exclusive, very expensive. They keep them at a ranch, just out of state," and that's kind of uncomfortable, because Steve's been to the ranch for a business lunch, so he knows exactly the place Hopper is talking about. And, jesus, Steve had thought at the time Tommy had a lot of Omega staff. A lot of really well behaved Omega staff - at the time, Steve thought Tommy was just being his usual dick self. Just showing off wealth. Fuck, if some of those Omega were actually, like, prisoners- "drop a hint to Hagan, tonight. Tell him you're getting itchy, fancy yourself an Omega. A traditional one, timid. Say whatever you need to say, get yourself an invite out there."

Steve takes a deep breath, nodding. He can do that. He can play that; he might have to wear blockers, his opinion of Tommy is in the gutter on a good day, never-mind this.

"That's all you need?"

Hopper shifts forward in his chair, "look, you're ideal. On the periphery, you've known each other a long time, but not well. He knows exactly the kind of clout you have, your bank balance, you're the perfect person to do this."

It's not hard to find information on Steve Harrington, he's thirty first on the Forbes 100 list, but clearly Hopper, at the very least, has taken notice.

"How do you know I'm not already involved?"

Hopper snorts, "kid. We know. Also, you just asked me that question, and your balls ain't that brassy."

Steve can't deny it, he shrugs, "so, what else?"

"Get an invite. Go there wearing a wire. Meet Tommy, pick an Omega. You'll be trusted; we will fit a listening device. Hagan's wriggled out of this sort of thing before; evidence like that, there'll be no court in the country that won't convict him."

Steve feels awkward. He knows there's a device on him somewhere; Hopper had taken his phone for ten minutes, and brought it back with a different suit jacket for him to wear.

That had been at half five this morning, standing on Steve's back porch. And as he pulls into the ranch, he has the air con on full blast because fucking hell, he's sweaty when he's nervous.

Hopper had made this sound easy; the ranch is pretty safe. Only a couple of armed guards. Plus, he's Steve Harrington; you can't just disappear a guy like Steve.

Hopper had sounded so certain, the cherry of his cigarette bright in the pre dawn mist. He'd even slapped Steve's shoulder, told him he was saving lives. Steve had felt like a fucking super hero for about twenty minutes, until reality and fucking nerves had swamped him.

But here he is, walking up the front steps to the ranch house, Tommy Hagan grinning big, "hope you brought the black card," Tommy jokes as they bro hug.

Because that's not creepy.

Tommy had given Steve a smirk at the Gala last night, was confident he had exactly what Steve was looking for. Knew, for the right price, exactly what would scratch Steve's itch. Not like he was talking about real fucking human beings or anything.

Steve's real glad he went thick on the blockers; he's certain Tommy would be choking on the scent of his disgust by now.

They bring them in during lunch. Steve sitting, eating fucking cornbread and home made slaw and he just can't. He nibbles, feeling sick with nerves. Tommy doesn't even seem to notice. Steve can't help but stare at him, someone he's known most of his life and now...he's been revealed as something vile and subhuman. Steve has to work hard to keep the disgust off his face.

Something that gets even more difficult when the Omega are brought it and lined up, all wearing the same diaphanous nightdresses regardless of gender. Every single one of them could be a contender for the most beautiful thing Steve's ever seen. Every single one of them could be a model, or something.

They're lined up in height order; the last one in, the tallest, a male Omega. He's limping.

He's leaving bloody footprints on the fancy parquet flooring.

Tommy must catch Steve's face, "the unruly ones need to be disciplined, and that one is more...difficult than most. Refuses to learn. And we don't want to damage the product anywhere that'll be visible, obviously."

Steve has to breathe through his nose so he doesn't throw up. All the Omega are wearing blockers; probably because the scent of Omega distress would be so off putting.

Tommy waves a hand, "get him out of here, he's bleeding on the rug," and the Omega winces, as he turns. he's got lots of shiny dark curls. Everything about all the Omega is pristine, perfectly maintained hair, nails, flawless skin. The smear of blood on his ankle is even more stark for it, and Steve can't help but stare as the Omega gamely takes what looks like a very painful, shuffling step away again.

"Him," Steve says before he can stop himself, "I want him."

The Omega turns back, looking at Steve with huge, beautiful brown eyes. He's hopeful and fearful all at once, and it tears Steve up inside. He wants to buy all of them, get all of them out of here, but knows he can't. If he does anything to raise suspicion he could fuck the whole thing.

At least he has Hopper's word that the rest of them will be out of here by the end of today.

Tommy scoffs, "Steve, come on, have a proper look. Don't pick that one. Get a pretty one."

Steve wants to swear at Tommy because they're all fucking pretty, ridiculously so, "no, he'll do."

"Oh," Tommy laughs, "I get it, just gonna' wreck him anyway, right? That's fair, can always get another," and he's laughing again and suddenly Steve is dragged into a very detailed conversation about how to move funds - from where and to where, which Steve does. It's an amount of money that under any other circumstances would make Steve's eyes water - but in the face of a human being in pain, Steve doesn't even blink.

It doesn't feel like Steve takes a breath until he's on the interstate, the Omega curled up on the seat next to him. No possessions, no clothes, no bag.

Nothing.

And that had gutted Steve as much as anything else.

"Look, uh, hey, you have a name?"

"Eddie," the Omega answers quietly.

"Right. Eddie. So. This is...well it's going to sound a bit wild but...I'm kind of here for the FBI. I mean. I don't work for them, or anything, but...I was...asked, I guess, to get evidence. So don't worry about everyone else, they're getting rescued later so. That's. A thing, I guess?"

Eddie's just blinking at him.

"Yea. Yeah, I guess that's a lot to take in. But we can talk about it...later? Do you have family? Like, shit, do you have somewhere to go? I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to actually like...buy, a person. Couldn't leave you there though."

"I've...I've got an uncle. Haven't seen him for years. I don't...know."

"Right, right okay. We can talk to Hopper about it," Steve spots a drive through, "you hungry?"

Eddie turns and sees the McDonald's, "oh fuck me yes," he breathes with such vehemence that Steve laughs, "I haven't left the ranch for two years, and they never let us eat anything like that, it's bad for our skin. Plus, we have to stay thin and pretty."

That kills Steve's laughter stone dead.

Hopper rubs at his forehead, "you were not supposed to buy a human being."

"I know but-" Steve turns, Eddie standing behind him, which on it's own makes Steve wince. Eddie's barefoot on the asphalt, half hidden behind Steve, still wearing nothing but that scrap of white fabric. It's now a little smeared with the fry grease Eddie had shamelessly wiped off his fingers. Steve hands over his phone and the suite jacket.

Hopper waves him off, "you did good."

Hopper does something to the back of Steve's phone, peeling something away from it, before giving it back, "somewhere I can take you kid? Any family?"

"I only have an uncle, but I don't...it's been years, I haven't seen him since I was little."

Hopper rubs is hand over his face, the rasp of stubble loud, before he lights another cigarette, "I'll have to find you a motel somewhere while we figure this out."

"He can stay with me." Steve's volunteering before he can really think it though, "I've got...a lot of space," he trails off. He did just rescue this Omega after all, he's not just going to abandon him to be alone somewhere. Somewhere that might not even be safe for a lone Omega.

Hopper raises an eyebrow at Eddie, Eddie shrugs, "not like I've had any better offers lately."

Hopper snorts, but he hands over a business card, "this is highly unorthodox, but...I don't care. I've got bigger things to worry about. Text me any details the kid can give you on the uncle. I'll be in touch."

And then Hopper just...drives away. It's maybe an hour and a half drive back from here, since Steve had to go out of his way for this clandestine meeting in an abandoned car lot.

"So is there anything you...want? Need?"

Eddie seems to think about it for a second, plucking at his nightshirt, "I mean, I don't have any cash, obviously, and I heard how much money you shelled out- I mean, do you think you can comp me from the FBI? Man, you didn't even get a receipt for me."

Steve starts laughing first, then Eddie joins in.

At Eddie's request they get milkshakes on the way home.

[solbaby7]

Angels Like You

pairing: cassian x reader

warnings: swearing, sexual themes, use of safe word, possible typos, some angst but plenty of fluff

summary: based off a anonymous request (not sure how to put the req on here to see but it’s literally like the second thing on my feed if u really wanna know)

—

You’d always heard that opposites attract.

It never really clicked though until you’d met Cassian.

His loud laughs and your soft giggles. His crude jokes and your blushed cheeks. His stomping steps and yours quietly following.

It just worked. Even if there were a few differences that occasionally left you feeling slightly inadequate—like his sexual experience and your naivety.

You’d overlooked it; chalking it up to the fact that Cassian had simply been alive significantly longer than you, experienced more while traveling the Courts. It was without question that he’d had his fair share of women—had probably tried things you couldn’t even dream of but a huge part of you was okay with that. Grateful that he’d gotten it out of his system because, in truth, you preferred a gentler pace. Taking the time to appreciate when your massive male of a mate left his title and the aggression that ensued at the door, presenting you with a part of him unseen by most, if any.

Cassian was a giver, always pressing sweet kisses down the slope of your nose and muttered compliments into the plush of your lips as he eased off your clothes. A thorough lover, who’d memorize the curves of your body as if you were a prized sculpture being put on display simply for him to admire. He’d croon kindness in your ear while feeding pure sin to your cunt with as much of his length as you could handle without shattering like glass in his grasp.

It had taken practice and countless hours spent building trust to pull you out of your timid nature; to quell the desire to cover your chest when he undressed you or fighting the burning of your cheeks when Cass would slap at the fat of your ass in front of his family. “Hurry back,” He commands playfully after dinner. He’s comfortable in the giant chair, soft cushions tucked behind his back and the crackling fire behind him warms at his wings while arguing over nothing with his brothers.

You oblige the request without hesitation, partially because Mor all but shoves a glass of some terrifyingly bright concoction of liquor in your grasp the second you step foot in the kitchen with a hellish grin and partially from the mating bond that seemed to throb when you were apart. She leans against the counter, fingers hovering over a display of sweet treats when you make way to go back.

“—just tell us. How is it?” The hushed tone of Rhysand’s voice stops you in your tracks, muscles tensing and ears all but pressed against the door to hear better.

“Fuck off.”

Azriel’s laugh follows, tone teasing. “Must be good. You know what they say about the quiet ones.”

You don’t even have to look to know Rhys is nodding along based off his inebriated low hum. “Filthy in bed.”

“Maybe some of them,” Cassian chuckles, ice clinking and you assume he’s still clutching at that half finished glass of whiskey he’d been nursing after his meal. “Mine is a little more…vanilla.”

It wasn’t like he was wrong and the words don’t even register as a bad thing until you hear the High Lord’s displeased groan and Azriel’s muttered comments about respecting it but personally desiring a female who was a bit more durable—adventurous.

You take a step back, stomach knotting with insecurity and you aren’t strong enough to linger any longer. Without a second thought the drink in your hand is finished in two quick gulps and the burn that settles is far less intimidating with their words replaying in your mind to distract you. “Where are you going?” Mor’s eyes catch on the bottle of wine you snag from the table, your empty glass left behind and she’s acutely aware that while she’d made it even she couldn’t stomach the contents.

“Taking my party upstairs,” You reply without even looking back, too fearful she’d see the tears beginning to glaze at our eyes. Halfway up the staircase, you all but rip the cork from the top drink deeply straight from the bottle with little care for the stray drops that drip onto the neckline of your dress. The door to your shared room is kicked closed behind you, eyes catching on the shuffled sheets left unmade after earlier—they still smelled like the both of you. A reminder of Cassian’s head between your thighs and fingers stuffed as far in your cunt as they could go. It had felt so perfect then but now you couldn’t even bring yourself to lay on the mattress.

Not even the wine can rid your brain of the self-depreciating thoughts and by time Cassian had come to check on you, the bottle had long since run empty and the few rebellious tears that had fallen dried on your cheeks. He makes an effort to make as little noise as possible when toeing off his boots, shuffling over to carry you to bed. Your subconscious betrays you, body melting into his warmth and you vaguely remember calloused hands guiding your arms through the holes of fresh nightclothes, a warm cloth dragging against your neck to clear the stickiness of spilled wine.

You mumble something unintelligible but Cassian just hums in agreement, sliding into the sheets beside you and pulling you close to his chest.

—

You aren’t there when he wakes the next morning, the sheets cool and your scent faded. He frowns as he wipes the sleep away and the lines only grow when you’re nowhere to be found at breakfast, or in the training ring a few hours after that. His agitation doesn’t go unnoticed, confusion intensifying when even the bond is blocked. All day Cassian yearns for the random tugs, the reassuring waves sent through a sacred connection but every gentle caress is met with complete silence.

He finds you much later, form covered in silk where you sat in the middle of the bed. A box sits before you, tied neatly with a bow and everything. A brow raises, relief flooding every fiber of his being when he can verify for himself that you were safe. “I haven’t seen you all day. Where’ve you been?”

“Went shopping.”

Cassian’s weight dips into the mattress, fingers eager when gripping at your hips to pull you in closer. He’s nosing at your neck when he mutters, “What’d you get?”

You shift beneath him, sliding the box carefully before him, unable to meet his eye. “Open it.”

Even filled with anxiety, he finds a way to make you laugh, doing his best to make a whole deal about opening the wrapping paper but when the lid slides open, his grin falters. “I—“ Resting inside the dark velveteen packaging was a pair of leather cuffs, padding lining the inside and a thick key tucked snug beneath it. “I thought you weren’t really ready for stuff like this yet?”

Fingers fiddle in your lap, rings twisting and silk ruffling against smooth skin when you shrug. “Changed my mind.” You don’t give him time to think too hard about it and he doesn’t resist in the slightest when you leaned forward to kiss him. It’s effortless to get lost in it—in him and those careful hands and claiming lips, pouring out just how much he’d missed you with each graze of his tongue against your own. Cassian adjusts you with ease, the kiss never breaking for even a moment as you’re caged beneath him. You can feel the press of his weapons against your knee, the drag of thick leathers against your inner thigh and the throbbing hardness of his arousal pressed against your belly. “Put them on me.”

There’s such weariness in golden eyes when they stare down at you and briefly your brows furrow— you thought he’d be more excited and less likely to ask too many questions since it was something he’d apparently desired so badly. “Are you sure?”

You pray he doesn’t notice that you don’t exactly offer an answer, instead pulling him down into another kiss; a deeper one and you know you’ve got him when you’ve guided his hands to your chest. He melts like the sweet icing Elain put on top of still steaming rolls of sugar and cinnamon; offering small groans and strained moans when you explore the rigid planes of his body.

Cassian doesn’t stray from the normal routine, using his elbow to slightly shove the box and its contents away while he got his fill. Each loving drag of his tongue down the length of your neck, over your breasts and peaked nipples. He stops just below your belly button, eyes sliding from you to the present beside you and every move is deliberate—careful, like he was handling fine china. “Do you remember your safe word?”

“I do.”

A kiss pressed along the line of your underwear. “And if you can’t speak?” He nods in approval when you snap your fingers twice. “We can stop at any time.” The leather is smooth against your wrists and you don’t miss how loose he’s fastened them, ensuring your safety before all.

A few steadying breaths as you tested the restraints, hands dangling above your head and while you can bend at the elbows and shift your weight there’s not much give for anything else. “Don’t stop,” You whisper, eyes fluttering shut as you try to focus on everything but the racing of your heart against your ribcage.

Cassian mouth was sinful, teeth biting into the flimsy fabric to tug them down, down, down. “Well, aren’t you just perfect,” He praises, nose trailing tickling lines up your inner thighs until the taunting touches leave your hips squirming for more.

“Please, Cass—want you.”

“Just be patient for me, angel. I’ve waited all day for you,” A kiss to your bare sex, tongue peeking out to press a barely there stripe up your slit. “Let me savor it.” Strong arms nudge your legs further apart, guiding your calves over his shoulders and when he really gets started there’s not a single brain cell working to begin to fixate on the restraints. It might’ve even been fun, submitting to such power when it was directed towards you with such care.

It’s not until his clothes become scattered heaps on the floor, cock lined with your entrance with his mouth slotted over yours that the anxiety spikes again. Something about the inability to move was less pleasant with so much muscle above you—with so much of his length sliding inside without the security blanket of being able to nudge his hip when you’d taken enough.

He does everything right, slowly working you open and moaning obscenities of your warmth, the tight fit and how fucking pretty you looked taking him.

And yet, still your muscles refuse to relax.

Your fingers flex, numbness settling in but each adjustment only seems to make them feel tighter until even Cassian’s hands rubbing against your skin felt uncomfortable. Each thrust of his hips jostles your body, thick padding chafing at sensitive skin. “Fuck,” He pants into your neck, arms wrapping under your shoulders for leverage. “Squeezing me so tight, angel.” It draws a whimper, one he mistakes for pleasure but you say nothing, willing yourself to breathe, repeating over and over that you were safe.

Against your will, your heart rate spikes, hands clenching into tight fists above you. “Cass,” A deep groan and his pace speeds up. Tears begin to line your vision, eyes squeezing shut as the need to please was overshadowed by panic. “Red. Please, red—I’m freaking out.”

He stops without question, quickly pulling out and slapping a hand against the bedside table for the key. “Shit angel, I’m sorry.” It unlocks with a click and instantly, you can breathe again. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, I—it’s just that,” Fat tears roll down your cheeks when he scoops you into his arms. “I wasn’t ready,” There’s so much shame in the words and Cassian’s heart absolutely shatters when you bury your face in his chest. “I overheard you the other night talking with your brothers about us—about me being vanilla during sex and I guess…well, I just wanted to prove that I could be adventurous too.” He doesn’t interrupt you, allowing a small noise of disapproval to slip free but it’s followed by fingers raking through your hair and kisses on your forehead. “It wasn’t bad at first, but once you got on top and I couldn’t move my brain just wouldn’t shut off.”

“That’s fine, it was just too much too soon,” You wait for the ‘but’ because there had to be a ‘but’ when he spoke in that tone. The one where he allowed a sliver of the Night Courts Commander to shine through. Warm palms cradle your cheeks, prying you from the safety of his chest to face him and he doesn’t speak until you’re looking him in the eye. The pads of his thumbs swipe under wet lashes, smearing away tear trails and tucking stray hairs behind your ears. “What you think you heard back there with Az and Rhys? I swear it wasn’t that, angel.”

“But they sounded so disappointed,” You look away, nose scrunching to sniffle. “—I thought you were disappointed.”

Cassian speaks your name firmly, urging you to look at him. “There is nothing more I love than being able to come home and be soft with you.” He pushes the hair from your shoulders, touch ghosting over your skin and you can’t fight your body’s desire to lean into his warmth. “Centuries of being looked at as just a soldier; a weapon. There’s so much blood on my hands but when I’m with you, all of that goes away. With you, I feel safe—I feel clean.”

Your hands cling to his sides, relief flooding under the reassurance and the love that erupts through the tether tying your souls together is nearly overwhelming. Goosebumps swarm under the intensity of it all, finding no other remedy other than to kiss him, to open up your end of the bond and allow him full access.

And this—the delicate approach to such intimacy, it felt right. Like two magnets colliding. Opposites attracting. Halves fusing into a whole. “How about we try again?” Cass offers, grip sliding down to your bare hips. “Do it our way.”

“Our way?” A tug of a smile at the corner of your mouth as he begins to pepper those sweet kisses along the slope of your nose.

Cassian only nods, a content hum sounding when he feels your ease, body pliant in his touch with the offending leather long forgotten on the floor. “Angels like you,” Ever so carefully he lays you back against the pillows, carefully smoothing out your hair as if you were the sweetest treasure. “—you take your time with.”

[karlachismylife]

[redacted] || The Queen of the Clan pt.3,5

CW: brief description of animal genitalia, brief description of animal sex (basically it's boys being hyenas, greetings and fucking, nothing too explicit). Still, this is NSFW and I WILL block every ageless blog (as well as minors) interacting with it, so please, put your age in your bio/pinned post. I feel sad when I have to block people :(

No one dares to stop him as his huge shadow stalks through the darkness of the night savanna. Even alone, Ghost is a formiddable presence, forced down the ranks by cruel laws of nature, but persevering and thriving against the odds - a lioness on her hunt strays away from him, preferring not to pick up a fight that might end with her jumped by a clan - a small, doomed without a female leader, but tight clan.

It still feels like the ground, cooled off by the night, burns under his soft paws, as he flies through the tall grass and bush, whipped by the shame of being caught, a dark missile set on a clear target - as he approaches the den they use during their out in the wild missions, he whoops, warning his clan of his arrival.

When he gets no immediate response, he slows down, raising his voice - a uniquely his, haunting, rumbling at the lower notes sound cutting through the air over the ochestra of cicadas. Finally, two voices respond - Captain somewhere on patrol, leaving two fluffy muppets to welcome his Lieutenant back. A softer, melodic call coming from Kyle gets overridden with quickly approaching whooping that even in the animal form sounds heavily accented - just one Scot's tongue seemingly built differently (specifically to get on Ghost's nerves).

Johnny almost rams Ghost's side, barely braking himself like a cartoon animal, dust clouds up in the air and deep traces where his hind paws dragged along before finally stopping. He lines up against his Lieutenant, lifting a paw impatiently - his thick member proudly erect, and Ghost would never be able to answer the question if Soap is just that eager to demonstrate submission to him or he's just getting horny from the sight of the dark-furred mountain with a blong mane alone. Earning a nip meant to keep him in line, Johnny shoves his muzzle into Ghost's crotch nonetheless, deliberately ignoring that the dominant hyena didn't even move his legs to accomodate such greeting - and then suddenly pauses.

Lifts his wide head, fluttering his big round ears, whines quietly, then, when Ghost stays silent, repeats in a more demanding tone - and by the time Gaz finally jumps out of the bushes gracefully, Ghost is already being full-on harassed by Johnny, who pays no mind to the bites and paw slaps he recieves from his bigger mate and keeps sniffing at his mane, going as far as to chomp on Ghost's nape and chew on on his light-coloured fur.

If they weren't out in the middle of savanna, Simon would've already shaken his animal form off and pinned Johnny down, but instead he has to fight off his Sergeant, who uses his height to his advantage as he escapes Ghost's grip and avoids being held like a guilty pup in the terrifyingly massive jaws capable of biting through a giraffe's thigh bone.

Of course, Kyle comes to his support, distracting Ghost by a quick greeting and using that same hind leg he lifted for him to push Ghost's snout away. He smells it too: the sweetness, the tanginess, the womanhood that lingers on the dark fur, something their Lieutenant clearly wants to hog for himself, as Soap tells Gaz in short, sulky whoops, getting smacked with Ghost's long tail in the face for the slander. He ain't hogging nothing, he just doesn't want to be their chewing toy for the night, even if he brought the smell that all of them already memorized from short encounters with the soft, plump, so perfect for cuddling in a pile and laying big heads on her lap, girl...

No matter how strong Simon is, being jumped by two muscle-packed hyenas isn't an easy fight to win, and after several more minutes of wrestling he finds himself pinned down on the ground by Soap's weight, as the chonky hyena plops on top of his superior officer and nuzzles into his mane with pathetic, needy whines, already grinding into Ghost's back, humping his poor tailbone like it's just a pillow for him to satisfy the need caused by a female's scent etched into his lover's hide.

Gaz keeps himself together just about as poorly, stuffing his wide nose between Ghost's ribs and inhaling with low wheezing howls. He's not rutting into Simon directly, but he's one hot-running furnace pressed up to the big hyena's side, leaking onto his fur and licking at the scented mane and Ghost's ears - well knowing that is makes his Lieutenant softer and more pliant.

It's no wonder that by the morning Price finds them in their den in a messy, sticky pile, paws entangled and traces of seed and saliva smeared on their sides, as if they were too exhausted to clean up even as they fell asleep. But even in the thick, musky mix of his subordinates' smells, he picks on the faint, delicate, sweet note - and immediately pinpoints it as the reason two Sergeants couldn't keep their paws off Simon.

Surely, after such an action-packed night Ghost won't mind being woken up by long, wet tongue of his Captain licking him clean thoroughly.

Part 3 | Part 4

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

Tagging: @elaineiswithyou-blog @creepingeva @my-halo-is-a-little-broken @sillymanjaro @ihatethinkingofnames10 @ravensfeatheruniverse @yaminax @ljh861 @darkangel4121 @ginger-n-coco @grey-shadow6475

So yeah, I guess these [redacted] parts (I just can't come up with as much spots-related puns and names as I'd like) will be a reoccuring thing, because writing fluffy hyena boiz is fun. Hope you enjoy these just as much as the main parts! Also I am accepting requests for this au, they might even get into the main storyline, so feel free to send in ideas!

you can ask to be added to the taglist under series masterlist post

Also maybe vote here for a little drabble?

[seraphinitegames]

Hey, Mishka!!!

I've been replaying TWC over the last couple of months, and must say, it's been an entirely rejuvenating experience for me. Like, I was reading it the first time, although I've replayed the series quite too many (worrying number) of times already. And it still manages to amaze me, EVERY SINGLE TIME.

I've repeated this in the past, and I'll repeat it again. The Wayhaven Chronicles is a blessing for me and I'm sincerely thankful to have come across it when I did. And I'm grateful to you for making this lovely world a reality (and of course, the four beautiful vamps)! Really eager for Book 4 and have already player the demo; can say it's gonna be worth the wait. It every time is.

Replaying the series in the last few months, I had a certain uncontrollable urge to drop and ask a few questions to you. Apologize in advance for the long ask and message, but it had been bottling up inside of me for SOOOOOO LONG.

1. In Book 1, when we're to lead the investigation in one of the three directions, is there any way to get success in any direction without Bobby making a big joke out of our investigation in the newspaper?

2. In Book 2, when Nicole and Max Salinas come to report their incident, can Tina actually find out anything unusual? If so, what is actually needed to explain that?

3. In Book 3, I noticed if we choose to go the final mission alone, depending on the route chosen, Boddy/Doug will end up tagging along as well, jeopardizing everything. Is there still a way to complete the mission successfully and rescuing everyone like it happens when we go along with Rebecca?

4. Less of a question, but more of a plea. Please tell me we can get a pet anytime in the series. I was just curious if we can get one.

5. How powerful is the big baddie in Book 4 compared to Unit Bravo? You don't need to answer if this verges on spoiler-y territory.

Really sorry to overwhelm you with this, but it's just months and months of joy, happiness, and sheer ecstasy making me blabber on about this world like this. Thanks once again, for making this truly beautiful story, world, and the vampires a reality.

Have a good day!!!! Lots of love from India!!

You can never play a game you love too many times (I keep telling myself that as I gradually burn a hole into my poor old console playing Dragon Age over and over, lol!)! If it brings you happiness, then that's what is important! :D

Ok, let's see about the questions...it's been a whole since I've gone through the older games without being in editing mode, hehe!

I don't think so...Bobby is, well, Bobby. And that scene was there very much to establish their character and show the player what type of person they are.

I don't think so, again. If there's anything unusual or odd, then I usually like to let the MC find that instead of it happening 'off-screen' so it's more impactful for the player—unless it's Verda discovering stuff, because that needs to happen for…reasons.

Iirc, in the Bobby/Doug routes, you get the auction scene, so a lot of that branch involves focusing on saving yourself! But the other team that joins Unit Bravo will help in saving a lot of the captives in that version.

I would love that being a massive animal companion fan myself, hehe! But likely not, just because the MC is away a lot from home, and that's unfair on the pet, even a fictional one, lol. I was tempted to give the MC a supernatural pet that hung around at the facility—that was definitely a strong idea at one point just so I could write a pet in the series for those that wanted it (me, I was the one who wanted it, hehe!) :D

**BOOK FOUR DEMO SPOILERS AHEAD** It's not just that Book Four's villain is terrifyingly powerful (or will be. They are, thankfully for the MC and UB, in a weakened state for a while due to what's happened to them and what happened in Chapter Two) but it's a lot to do with the fact that their power specifically counteracts and weakens Unit Bravo's. So that's a double whammy!

Thank you SO incredibly much for the amazing message! It means more than you can know <3

[ninibeingdelulu]

Silence ✧

Plot: You, one of the nurse of the Task Force 141, take care of his injury.

A/N: Guys— I know I said I’m gonna take a break but this have been in my mind and I wanted to share it with y’all😭 so my final post until exams is gonna be abt kaiser!!

It's been another one of those brutal ops that left the boys of Task Force 141 pretty banged up as usual.

Holed up back at the safe house, you're the only nurse on duty tonight handling their medical needs post-mission.

The door to the makeshift triage bay suddenly kicks open with Lieutenant Ghost himself stalking inside with that icy unreadable vibe he always gives off.

Like he's some sorta apex predator assessing any potential prey in his vicinity even among allies.

With his usual skull baclava, he head toward a chair without a word. Then he just calmly lifts his bloodstained shirt exposing that frighteningly huge, scarred torso built like some kinda walking brick shithouse.

You can't help the nervous gulp escaping as those piercing steel-black eyes bore straight through you standing there frozen.

Sizing you up like some helpless little rabbit ready to be ripped apart by those massive bear-paw mitts clenching fistfuls of shredded fatigues.

Until your medical training finally clicks into autopilot gear catching sight of the nasty bullet graze scorched across his lower abdominal slabs.

Gnarly enough to require patching up judging by the steady trickle still seeping out between those ridges.

You give the subtlest shake snapping out of it then retrieve the first aid kit heading over.

Carefully avoiding those glacial irises still tracking you as you silently kneel before the seated Lieutenant without uttering a word.

Once situated between those tree-trunk thighs you get to work cleaning and disinfecting the jagged wound with the antiseptic wipes.

Ghost barely even flinches when the alcohol solution hits that raw patch of burger meat - dude's an absolute stoic savant when it comes to playing through pain.

At least until you hear the faintest hiss slipping past those clenched jaws when you apply slightly too much pressure against the tender injury.

Instantly you freeze then murmur a hushed apology, letting your touch turn gossamer light yet still effectively cleaning the gash while he stays utterly motionless.

Something about the close proximity between you both suddenly amplifies, like both your heartbeats are syncing up while you focus on meticulously wrapping those sterile bandages around Ghost's midsection.

Even through all that scar-tissue cratering his abdomen you can feel the searing warmth radiating off in pulsating waves.

Against your better judgment you chance a glance upwards to check if everything's still good on his end.

But the second your gaze meets that utterly primal smokey-black stare piercing straight through you, it's like every nerve ending in your body ignites simultaneously.

Those razor-sharp raptor eyes hungrily drink in every subtle shift and flex of your form positioned so vulnerably below him.

Heart thundering against your ribcage now as realization dawns about just how terrifyingly easy it would be for those titanic arms to completely overpower and snap you like a damn twig.

Yet a deeper core-level current also hums between the charged particles gathering unbearably thick in the air around you both too.

Stoking thrills of a different sort pulsing through your veins beyond just the mortal peril his presence typically broadcasts.

By the time you finish securing the gauze wrappings and carefully rise back upright, your throat's gone bone dry.

Forcing you to swallow hard glancing away while reminding him not to overexert. To diligently rest and hydrate sufficiently over the next few recovery days so you don't hafta come redress this all over again.

But the second your back's turned gathering those scattered supplies, you audibly inhale feeling Ghost's furnace-like proximity crowding up against you from behind.

Not overtly threatening yet - rather merely an intoxicatingly heady presence amplifying that strange tension crackling across your hypersensitive nerve endings exquisitely.

Those steel-cable forearms extending across both sides bracketing you in while his ragged whisper ghosts up the nape of your neck with a scorching caress.

"Much obliged, then...for always patching us up good as new, Doc..."

The words alone already skated the boundaries of impropriety.

But coupled with that dangerously carnal subtext rumbling just beneath the surface instantly flash-fried your higher cognitive processes into vapor.

You remained utterly petrified in place absorbing the infinitesimal sensations of his titanium frame pressing so tantalizingly close yet not fully against you while Ghost silently withdrew.

Leaving your entire body combusting from the inside out without another word spoken between you both...