#i was planing this to be a feral!wild thing

[talesof-old]

spare me | e.v. & a.s.

pairing(s): poly!azris x fem!reader

warning(s): slightly suggestive if you squint, mentions of beron vanserra, implied torture/injuries, fear of abandonment, fear of loved ones being hurt, saying i love you a little too early maybe, nonsexual nudity

word count: 1k

a/n: this is more angst than fluff but it ends on a happier note lmao

masterlist

poly!azris + angst & fluff for my little celebration

Being immortal was never easy.

With centuries spread out before you like the gaping mouth of some terrible beast, it threatened to consume every one of your relationships. Each would, most likely, be as fleeting as a mortal’s life. Fragile, finite.

Perhaps it was better to end things before they got too hard. It allowed for allies where there would be enemies.

But as you gazed into the amber eyes of your lover, your very soul ached at the notion. His eyes were lit with something wild, feral in the way only a cornered wild animal could be. Sorrow lined your face as you reached for him.

Beside you, Azriel lounged across the bed, his relaxed body betrayed only by the tense expression he wore. His wings were limp on the sheets: open, vulnerable.

You shouldn’t have said it. As soon as the words left your mouth you’d wished you could take them back. I love you had been easy. The frantic patter of your heart and the pain in your chest was not. Naked and satiated, tracing circles over Eris’ scars, you’d spoken your feelings.

Azriel rested a hand on the dimple of your back, supportive in his silence. You knew he’d felt the same, but perhaps he wasn’t so much of a fool to voice it.

“You can’t-“ Eris’ words brought you back to the present. He scrambled out of bed, hands trembling as he dressed. You pushed yourself up, thighs protesting, and watched as he tried to pull himself together. You gnawed on the inside of your cheek, muscles tight with tension.

“You can’t. You don’t.”

A sharp wave of anger shot through your blood. Who was he to dictate how you felt? Even if he did not feel the same.

“Don’t say that. Don’t tell me how to feel.” A humorless laugh echoed through the all too quiet room. The hair on your arms stood up, and Azriel finally allowed himself to move up from the bed.

“You don’t love me, you’re simply interested in the pleasure I bring you.” Your gut churned. Frustrated tears built up in your eyes but you will them away, voice sharp as you respond.

“You are more than a puppet to be used, Eris.”

He inhaled sharply.

The pause was all you needed, slowly removing yourself from the bed without sparing a sideways glance at your other lover. His shadows were curling around your limbs as if to keep you safe, but there was nothing to protect you from.

Eris stood still, barely breathing, as you approached. A wall of heat seemed to guard the air around him. You didn’t care. You reached for him, cool fingers making contact with burning skin, and simply stayed there. He would not push you away out of fear. And his was so palpable, the taste bitter on your tongue.

“If you don’t want this, tell me how to un-love you. Spare me the torment of wanting you but not having you.” You shook your head. “I would fight for the rest of my life for you, Beron Vanserra be damned.” His eyes fluttered shut as your hands skimmed over his chest, rising to cradle his jaw in your hands. Tension fell from him in waves.

“I can’t lose either of you.”

You sighed, stepping closer even still. Shadows slithered from your wrists to caress his pale skin. He kept his hands at his side, fists clenched as if to keep from touching you.

“My love,” you whispered. “Look at me.”

Moments ticked by. Azriel’s shadows were wound with tension, skirting over your figures in place of your partner’s hands.

Eris opened his eyes, red rimmed and glassy. You stroked the hard planes of his cheeks with your thumbs. The faintest freckles dusted the bridge of his nose and cheekbones, and you ached to still be lying in bed and tracing shapes between them.

“I’m not afraid of saying I love you, Eris Vanserra. Every fiber of my being longs for you. I don’t care if Beron himself hears me now.” He tensed all over again, even as you attempted to coax him out from behind his mountain high walls.

“You are worth it. To me, you’re worth everything.” A few stray tears fell from his eyes, though he didn’t make a sound. In a rush, you were wrapped in his embrace, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“I’ll only cause you pain, suffering even.”

You huffed a laugh, tangling a hand in his hair.

“That’s my choice, love. Besides, it’s not you that’s causing me pain.”

He drew away, only to be swept up in the thick arms of your shadowsinger. They were much less affectionate with one another, but even Azriel understood that physical touch grounded Eris more than words ever really did. Eris, while taller, curled into the embrace.

“You’re stuck with us, fox.” Azriel’s low voice had you quirking up a brow.

“Come back to bed.” Unable to argue, Eris allowed the two of you to undress him, guiding him back to the silk sheets you’d begged them to purchase.

You curled up into his left side, pressing soft kisses to his shoulder.

“You’re worth more than you think, you have to know that.”

Eris’ fingers laced through yours, squeezing your hand gently. Azriel pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“We’ll be free one day, fox. I promise.” You glanced up, watching their exchange with soft eyes. Eris slotted his mouth against Azriel’s, sighing as he deepened the kiss. You rested your head on the redhead’s shoulder. A dark wing rose to cover your bodies, twitching as you lightly scraped the membrane with your nail.

Azriel huffed, pulling away from Eris and glancing down at you with a teasing gleam in his hazel eyes. “Needy.” You closed your eyes, nuzzling into the warmth of your partner. Even if this was destined to end sooner rather than later, at least there had been moments of love, of tenderness.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

#eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar #eris vanserra angst #azriel angst #x reader #talesofold #talesofold birthday special

[edgeray]

Vixen

(Arlecchino x Reader Blurb)

A/N: Last Arlecchino post before I go back to classes. 😿This is a hybrid au! blurb from my poll, and it's likely I won't make a oneshot out of this idea. It's still a really cute concept, so maybe I'll make another blurb of this concept or another hybrid au! idea. concept. Shoutout to @megistusdiary for this adorable idea of Artic Fox Arlecchino! (Love you CEO of Arlecchino!) For those of you guys that weren't entirely... pleased with my 'Arlecchino is not a person' blurb I offer this piece in favor of having my life spared. Future Edit: I call this a blurb, and then proceeds to write 1.4k last night from like 11pm-2am ._. I'll just dub this as a oneshot now. So literally disregard the second paragraph. Not my usual quality, but since it's long enough, it's a oneshot. Content Warning: Pretty OOC for Arlecchino, mentioned but not graphic injury, 2.2k words

Arlecchino is as beautiful as snow.

It's the first thing you've noticed when your eyes laid upon the hybrid Harbinger. Beneath the silky snow-white fur and graceful, cordial appearance, you recognize that a predator laid underneath her exterior; a feral fox ready to lash at anything that so much as touches what was deemed hers. You don't let her sleek, fluffy coat distract you from her red-crossed eyes or her black claws.

Still, it is futile to deny her beauty.

You recall your first meeting with her in Snezhnaya, trudging through its frosty forests in nearly knee-deep snow. You don't quite remember what your purpose for being there was, though you ventured out to the wilderness behind your home often with no real purpose. Snow crunching underneath your boots, you admire the pristine, white landscape that no other place in Teyvat could display.

Here, your sight is met with a frost-covered plane, a frozen river cutting between you and a forest, the silhouette of a grand mountain behind the conifers. The sun hangs low, just above the peaks of the mountain, painting the sky as a gradient of topaz oranges and honey yellows. The only noise that fills the air is the whispers of the occasional winter breeze, blowing through your hair and making you shiver. Captivated by this picturesque scene, you simply stand and observe what's around you, your stare unbreaking.

That is until your ears pick up on a noise, a soft whine in the distance. You can tell it's not human-like, more like a cry that a puppy would make, but nonetheless, you're curious. There's another similar sound, this one more faint, but you let your ears guide you to the source of the noise until you near the edge of another wooded area of the wilderness.

What your eyes set on shocks you. A relatively large white blob sits amongst red patches of snow around. Is that blood? Approaching closer, you realize it's a rather large animal with white fur, and you assume that it's a Snezhnayan Snow Wolf from its size, though it's hard to tell with its back turned away. It's struggling to stand up fully; one of its hind legs appears to be injured given how it's not putting as much weight on it when it limps through the snow. You watch it struggle a little, wary of approaching a wild animal especially one of that size before you witness it collapse. Not intent on just observing the poor creature, you walks towards it, making your presence known so as to not startle it abruptly.

It whips its head and locks eyes with you. It is then, you chillingly discern, that this is no ordinary Teyvat creature. It's bigger than what wolves can grow up to, and its ears and tails don't match that of a wolf. Its ears are shorter in height and more triangular and its tail is much thicker than the average wolf's. Notably, on its legs, the fur darkens from white to pitch black, the color encompassing its feet entirely. This is something unseen in any snow creature you've come across. But most striking of all is its gaze. Red pupils with ebony eyes matching its feet, it watches you calculatingly.

You expect it to growl or snarl or make any sort of noise a wild, cornered creature would, but you get nothing besides continued staring. It's unsettling, but it should be a good thing that it hasn't perceived you as a threat yet, right. Regardless though, you still try to verbally communicate with it.

"Hey, I'm just here to help okay? I won't hurt you. If I do, you can, I don't know, bite my face off or something?" You awkwardly reassure it as you kneel beside the animal. It simply tilts its head to lock eye contact, and you half-expect it to bite you without warning.

Although it feels pointless to talk to a wild animal, you ask, "Can I touch you?" Expectedly, there's no response, but you take it as permission. You place a tentative hand over its fur, brushing your hand through its fur. It's incredibly soft, almost like how you'd imagine what touching a cloud feels like. It's a light and immaculate coat. But you didn't come here just to pet it.

"You have a really pretty coat," you compliment the fox(? Let's stick with that for now), before your fingers trail down to where the blood originated. It's a clean, deep laceration across the length of its back leg. What could have injured it like this? There's no other marks on the leg, so it can't be a claw from another animal. This was a precise cut, something that only a human can do.

"Did someone do this to you?" You wonder out loud in a sorrowful tone. What kind of human could harm such a beautiful creature? Unbeknownst to you, its ears twitched in response.

You get to work treating the wound with the emergency equipment you always carried when you ventured. There's no resistance or protest from canine, and you question if this is really an animal you're treating. How it hadn't budged one bit as you cleaned its wound, you're not sure, but you're just glad it hasn't shown one sign of aggression towards you. If you clean it and allow the skin to heal, the cut will likely heal independently. Once you've wrapped the final bandage around its leg, you glance at the fox's eyes again.

Not even once did it stop watching you.

You try to comfort yourself from the disturbing fact by observing how cute it is and imagining what it would be like to snuggle with it. It's when you notice the sun was setting, and dusk is approaching quickly. This typically wouldn't be a problem, but as you increasingly grew worried, a distinct problem struck out. You're lost.

"Well, shit."

Guess you have to set up camp. You hate the thought of having to spend the night out here, but you have no choice. You won't be able to make out anything soon from how dark this place gets. It's not your first time doing so, but you hate it still. With the remaining minutes of sun you have left, you gather as many sticks and branches as possible before you light them with a match, creating a campfire. You lay a little close to the fox, which seems to have also decided to make the campfire its resting place for now.

You cocoon yourself with a thick blanket.

"You'll keep me safe, right...?" You ask of the fox. No response. How very assuring.

Despite the bundles of fabric purposed for helping with extreme temperatures, you find yourself still shivering. You're cold, not to the point of frostbite, but your form can't stop trembling, your teeth chattering.

"It's too fucking cold for this shit," you groan, hugging yourself for extra warmth and curling into a fetal position. As you curse yourself for getting lost, you hear a shuffle, and the crunch of snow. Before you can even search for the origins of the sound, you feel a warm, large weight against your back--it's something soft. You look over your shoulder to see white fur and then look back to where the fox was originally: it's no longer there. Instead, it's pressed against you, sharing its body warmth with you.

"Mmm... good kit," you tiredly drawl as you absorb its heat greedily, enjoying the texture of its coat. It makes falling asleep easy.

Before you drift to sleep, you swore you heard a human, feminine voice purr from behind you.

"Annoying little vixen."

When you wake up, you expect to be met with white--white snow and fur. You are only met with one of those. Your eyes adjust to the pricking sunlight that stab into your vision. Surprisingly, you're warm even with the chill that you feel cascade against your cheeks. Memories of the night prior start piecing together. You still feel the fox's presence, though, strangely, the weight behind you doesn't seem nearly as soft or large as you remember. And something is draped around your midsection. You look down, expecting to a fur-covered limb.

Instead, it's a human arm that is wraps around your form, holding flushed against a person and your heart skids to a stop. The forearm is black with gold and ebony markings on its surface, but the dark color fades into pale skin. Is this person even human? A humanoid? A hybrid? With your rising panic, you become increasingly more aware of the presence that has you encaged in their embrace. You can't turn to look who is behind you in fear of waking them up--you don't know what they'll do to you once they're awake.

The soft snoring behind your ear and the warm breath brushing against your nape makes you shiver. However, what you do notice is how warm their body is; they exude a body heat that's abnormal. Do they produce their own heat from within? You know of very little creatures that can do that, let alone humans. Maybe an external source? Like a vision?

Then a sudden thought comes to you. Has this person been... sleeping with you to keep you warm? Is this person somehow the fox you helped? Deciding to risk it, you twist your head to look over your shoulder.

Red-crossed pupils glare back at you and your entire form freezes. Faced with perhaps the most gorgeous woman ever, a pale, unblemished face framed by ivory hair and some ebony strands appear before you.

"You're awake," her gruff voice comes out and the tips of your ears burn from being caught awake.

"Y-yes," you stammer out, still trying to recover from the shock. "Thank you for keeping me warm."

She hums in response before unfurling her arm from your body and standing up. Immediately, your body misses her warmth and you shudder, wrapping the blanket around you tighter. You sit up with her and it's then that you realize that she is indeed a hybrid. The same ears from the fox last night matches those on her head, and there's a tail that swishes lightly from behind her.

You take the time to admire her clothes, the question of where she got them slipping from your mind. She dons a marble white and slate gray jacket over a corset-type shirt with black and a matching gray and wears black pants. Her outfit reminds you of similar attire to Snezynayan nobles. What is someone of her status out here? Something about her seems vaguely familiar, though you don't quite know why.

"You're the... fox from last night," you dumbly state.

"Correct."

"But you're a human now."

"Astute observation," she huffed with a bit of mockery in her voice and you chuck snow in her direction.

"I've never seen a hybrid before, cut me some slack!" You snap back in faux anger. You let out a sigh, before you flick your attention to her leg. You can't see the wound because of her leggings, but you presume that it's still there.

"Who hurt you before?" You rasp out, corner eminent in your words and expression.

"That's not of your concern," she answers in a curt manner, making you wince.

You bite your bottom lip, a bit frustrated from the quick shut refusal, but you know she shouldn't pry. For as beautiful as she is, both in her human and fox form, you know just from the unsettling... sensation she emitted that she was dangerous, not to be disturbed or poked to much. You figure you should probing her on what led to this situation.

"Can I know who you are?" You question instead.

The fox hybrid steeps in silence for a few moments. Her facial muscles softening just the bit, the red flare in her eyes glowing. Then, a crack in her hardened expression, a small smile graces her lips.

"Arlecchino."

Bonus (Content Warning: VERY Suggestive. Like the closest thing to a smut I'll get.)

"Arlecchino."

"Mmh?"

"I need to get up."

"Just a little longer, kit."

"Arle, I love you, but I will kick you."

"With what functioning legs?"

"Is this why you wanted to dick me down? So you can harass me with no consequences?"

"Exactly."

You grit your teeth, trying to peel her arms off of your bare form, but the fox hybrid persists, keeping you glued to her as she nibbles gently on the skin of your nape. To emphasize her hold, her tail curls around one of your legs, its grasp tight and ensuring you can't go anywhere.

"Annoying little vixen," you groan, pulling the covers off of the two of you.

Arlecchino purrs into your shoulder, and her hands trail from your midsection down to your hips. Her tail caresses your inner thigh and you shudder.

"Again?" You gasp in dulled surprise as you feel her rise and she flips your body over to be beneath her. One blackened claw hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers with hers and pressing your hand into the mattress behind you. The other hooks underneath one of your legs, raising the leg over her shoulder.

"Of course. After all, I need to ensure you take my kits."

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fic #arlecchino smut #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino #edgeray.writes #edgeray.blog

[andypantsx3]

quick interlude from the bakugou barbarian-verse.

for @procrastination-artist bc your last drawing of feral bakugou made me go berserk 🙃

"He's a prince?" you ask incredulously, gaping at Izuku. "Bakugou?"

Izuku nods that head of wild green curls, blinking guilelessly back at you. "The closest thing his people have to it, anyway. Their custom isn't quite like Yuuei's," he answers.

You glance over your shoulder to where Bakugou is wrestling Kirishima into the dirt, apparently trying his level best to gouge the dragon's eyes out while he's at it. It's only your knowledge that Kirishima is basically impenetrable that stops you from rising in concern.

"That? That is a prince?" you repeat, hopelessly lost, as you watch Bakugou shove a literal fistful of dirt into Kiri's face.

"His mother is their leader," Izuku tells you, a smile in his voice. "It's mostly a hereditary position, with some fighting necessary to succeed. Kacchan's next in line."

"And stay down you spiky-haired shit!" Bakugou's crow reaches you as you turn back to Izuku, mystified. Izuku's mouth is twisted up fondly in the firelight.

"Well he certainly won't have any trouble there," you say emphatically, moving to turn your sausage over the fire. Drippings of grease sizzle off the sides of it, hissing where they hit the flames.

"The fuck I won't," Bakugou growls from behind you, pointedly loud so you can hear it.

You feel your ears go hot, embarrassed that he's heard you discussing him. But it's only natural, considering you're now legally married, according to the customs of one deeply batshit village.

Not that either of you have acknowledged it, however, short of Bakugou snarling that you were his as he'd won the village marriage tournament. He'd hauled you into his arms, carrying you out of there, only to drop you the second you'd cleared the village sight lines.

And neither of you have spoken of it since. But you can't help but be more curious than ever, now, about the man who sort-of-is, sort-of-isn't your husband.

"I'll wipe the floor with anyone who tries for the seat," Bakugou says, stalking over, his booted stride heavy and sure. "Like those assholes in Dagoba."

You chance a look up at him as he drops onto the log next to you, running a hand through his ash blonde hair. He glows in the firelight, the hard planes of his chest glinting with sweat, and he swipes at a patch of dust high on his cheekbone with the back of his hand. The shadows pool in the divots of his arm muscles as he does so.

"So you really are some kind of prince," you echo disbelievingly, reaching back for your sausage skewer, just for something to focus on. "Who would have known."

Bakugou's smile is white and knife-sharp in the light of the flames as those scarlet eyes find you, hot and intent. Your cheeks heat despite yourself.

"Yeah," he says, sounding smug. "Guess that makes you a princess."

You startle. Your sausage goes flying into the fire, hissing and crackling, and your face flames even hotter than the campfire.

Bakugou's smile is far too self-satisfied in the dim.

#consistent tense? never heard of her #andie's writing #bakugou barbarian verse

[justsalpals]

Jace knew pain. He could handle that.

No, the worst part of dying was the fear. That split second before the end when pain took a backseat, a fluttering consciousness latching onto the only thing he knew for certain.

This was the end. This was it. No more. Over. Dead. Gone. Finished.

His chest spasmed in wild aborted half-breaths, choking on bloody phlegm his body wanted desperately to expel but lodged in his ragged throat. Fingers twitched as if to form the somatic components for a spell he lacked the energy to cast. The world shifted and sputtered, fading no matter how tightly he tried to grasp it close to his chest.

For all the world it almost felt like being back in high school again, desperately willing his eyes to stay open as the teacher droned on and on about material components even though everyone in class had an arcane focus. Just as he had back then, Jace was powerless to resist as his eyelids drooped and he finally dropped down into the long rest waiting for all adventurers in the end.

Pathetic.

End of the line. So where did that leave him? Caught between divine domains, having never pledged himself to any one divinity. The astral planes, the pits of hell, or even following the innate magic in his blood back to the feywilds of his ancestry?

End. The end. It was the end of him.

Is this all you are?

Was this his legacy? A young and powerful sorcerer, the potential of the universe sparkling at his fingertips, all the world open to him.

Spent the prime of his life getting heckled by fourteen-year-olds who only cared about learning how to cast fireball.

(I can't teach it to you, he always had to explain to the new ones, with their dead eyes and dumb gaping fish mouths. More of a coach. We're just spitballing back and forth what it might Feel Like to have the option of summoning a giant sphere of fire to raze down one's enemies.)

Is this what you're dying for? A handful of self-centered, idiotic, ungrateful brats?

Beyond the veil of death, every nerve in his body dulled to utter numbness, something in Jace's chest pulsed.

For a boss who'd fuck a flaming pigeon out on the bloodrush field before he considered giving you an ounce of respect?

In the darkness of the in between, caught in the steps before final death, the air turned hot and tacky. Blond hair curled limp against his forehead, drenched in sweat, heat clawing across his skin like a furnace trying to burrow its way back home.

The sort of heat that made it hard to think, hard to move, for fear that the slightest twitch would cut through the atmosphere and sear your skin straight from the bone.

Something crimson crackled through the darkness. A feverish crescendo crawling in every direction, hateful and ferocious in every shattering shower of red.

It didn't have to be the end. Not if he didn't let it be.

Get up.

And really, what had the goddamn gall to keep him here? What universe thought he would just roll over and stay down like a good little corpse?

He just had to. Reach out. Had to. Take it.

Get the fuck up, Stardiamond.

A fistful of rubies sparked and flared in Jace's palm, before he tilted his head back and poured them down his open maw.

On the material plane, Jace Stardiamond's eyes snapped open.

Jace thought he'd known what pain was. A lifetime of arcana, adventuring, of teaching highschoolers, he'd taken his fair share of hits over the years. Not like this. Nothing like this.

Jace thought he'd known pain, and he was a goddamn fool.

This

was

agony.

Writhing on the classroom floor, his back arched into an unnatural contortion of joints and limbs. The feral thing tore from Jace's throat could hardly even be called a scream, mangled as it was with a century's worth of rage buried in the name of a paper thin mask. It bubbled from his mouth as limbs thrashed about, eyes rolling back into his head with the anguish of it all.

"There you are."

A hulking fifteen foot shadow loomed over his twitching corpse, greedy eyes simply watching as Jace's fingers began scrambling across his own chest. A spellcaster's fingers, ordinarily so nimble and precise, nails once filed to a perfect smooth arch now ragged and bloodstained as they clawed through the layers of his own scarf and shirt.

He tore and mangled the flesh underneath until fingertips hit jagged gemstone.

"I knew you had it in you, somewhere under that bone deep smarmy front you put on."

Ruby splintered across Jace's skin, crystalized in his collapsed lung, sparkled in the lining of his throat.

"Bitterness, frustration, jealousy, hatred, judgement, call it what you want, but you've always been bursting at the seams with rage. Just waiting for the right person to come along and break the seal."

Flecks of ruby crusted to Jace's lips, pulled back to bare his teeth in a rabid snarl. The giant above only chuckled, the sound of his laughter like the grinding of stone when a whole mountain collapsed inwards.

"Why?" The word barely scraped free from his raw throat, lingering in the palpable heat clogged air.

A large hand gripped Jace's chin to force his gaze upwards, the bones in his jaw straining and cracking with the force of the gesture. Yet above him, Porter just clicked his tongue as if reprimanding a misguided child.

"Because, Stardiamond, you piss me off more than I can even begin to describe." His grin was too wide, too clean, a little too sharp at the edges. "That's holy, in its own sort of way."

#jaceporter #starbreaker #because let's be clear: I absolutely mean this in a gay way #we love a homoerotic horror with a side of workplace comedy #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fhjy spoilers #jace stardiamond #porter cliffbreaker #my writing

[tavyliasin]

Villain-Fucker Angst Hours

Good timezone, darlings~ Are you ready to get all up in your feelings? No? Me neither, loves, but here we are regardless so the words are going to flow as they usually do... This is focused on Raphael from Baldur's Gate 3 and his fandom, but the latter section can easily apply to any villain fandom.

Self-Analysis of Devil-Fuckery, Or Why Do I Adore Raphael When He Is Very Obviously Evil: A Short Essay by TavyliaSin (Who Still Cannot Name Anything With Less Than A Full Paragraph) ((NSFW)) (((Game Spoilers)))

The following may discuss heavier topics, but without specifics, so whilst it should be safe for most to read without triggering any difficult memories please be aware of Raphael's entire vibes, the content and context of his story, and I'd also like to mention that this isn't a "woe be us for we are terrible people" piece, it's actually more about:

"There is an inherent kindness and warmth to much of the Raphael fandom, and I think there could be some common threads behind that, pulling us all in closer in a comforting blanket that we wrap around each other to keep out the cold of the world."

So, what in the nine hells am I on about? Well. Raphael-fandom is a wild and wonderful place to be. The rest is in sections, so feel free to skip through to what you feel is relevant to your interests. I am so prone to waffle I should open a restaurant~

Who Are Fans Of Raphael? What Do They Want?

We are feral, unhinged, all sheets to the wind "I want that devil man, carnally, and there is no force in all the planes that could stop me". There's the vanilla to the extreme and every level in between, tops, bottoms, versatiles, Doms, subs, and switches - there are a whole lot of people who would love to get their hands on either (or both) of Raphael's forms, for a simple smooch or something far more spicy~ [edited in] To add on to this, not all of us even desire him in a sexual way, for many it is romantic, soft, or even just the rather pleasant thought of spending an evening with drinks by the hellfire because he would be fascinating company. Aces, Aros, and AroAces may all find themselves well within the devilish corners of fandom too~ which is a whole other essay~ [end edit] So, I see you. I'm one of you. Extremely loud and utterly hingeless in my fan appreciation for Raphael. He's one of my favourites to write about, I seek art of him, and the same goes for his mirrored other half, Haarlep, who I arguably love more despite there being far less content of them in the game.

And the Fandom? The Vibe?

From my experience in the Raphael Fandom areas, we have a very deep and abiding understanding of consent, respect, and treating each other with an absolute and uncompromising kindness. We've had talks about keeping each other safe in fandom, exchanged details of people we have encountered who need to be avoided, even shared details between moderators of different fandom servers to pre-ban people proven to be creeps and/or art thieves. We've also discussed consent, including the issues with it in the game, and how areas of the story can only really be considered dubious at best and could easily be triggering for people. And these discussions have been open, honest, fair, and with the acknowledgement that most of us love these scenes anyway. So there's a sense of care that runs through everything, behind the horny-posting and fan content, behind the endless thirsting after our favourite fictional characters. We have a depth of kindness that warms my sinners soul every time I see it.

What Does This Have To Do With Self-Reflection, Raphael, or Villainy In General?

Well let's look at Raphael. He's a villain, obviously. He's manipulative, devious, and inherently evil by his very nature. He keeps Hope chained in his basement, constantly subjected to endless torture. There's also mention of how Gortash was sold into his service at a young age, clearly not an enjoyable experience given the other details and how things turn out (particularly as Raphael would need Gortash's own plans to fail entirely in order for him to succeed in his own and get that crown). And as fans, we accept that. We don't sit making excuses, or trying to say "well actually Gortash is a little shit and Hope probably deserve it", and we don't shy away from or conveniently ignore those darker sides of him with malicious intent to enable more evil to flourish. What I noticed, when I allowed the thoughts to continue, is that there is a theme here.

If Evil Can Be Loved Then So Can I

That's the core. Of course, darlings, I am not claiming to be a heinous monster. I certainly do not have a laundry list of crimes that would make the devil himself say "Uh, that's a bit much." But I sure as fuck treat myself like I do sometimes. You see, I think a lot of us have that tendency, to judge ourselves far more harshly than anyone else. Our patience, understanding, and forgiveness for others runs deeper than the Mariana Trench, but when it comes to our own flaws? One minor mistake and we think ourselves to be the worst beings ever to disgrace the earth. Thus, the villainy we see reflects how we are treating ourselves. So by loving and accepting all of those things that should be terrible, hated, we are actually learning that no matter how poorly we think of ourselves that we can be worthy of that same love and acceptance. We are extending the affection we are unable to show ourselves to someone we see the worst parts of ourselves amplified within. And that's why villains attract the people with the most kindness. The most forgiveness. Because it takes someone with a truly huge amount of empathy to find love for the embodiment of evil.

Or, IDK, maybe villains are just hot and we're too far down to care.

But wait, before you go!

THERE'S SOMETHING WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT.

All of this is about FICTION. We should never be accepting of the kinds of evil we see in the game irl. We do not owe anyone kindness if they do not show it to us.

What is hot in fiction is not always OK IRL.

Look after yourselves out there, remember that consent is key in all things, and please do try to learn to love yourselves, darlings, you are worthy of it and you should judge yourself by the same standard you judge others. If you are in doubt, if you are worried, if you feel afraid - reach out, talk to someone. There are many who will listen.

Treat yourself as you would treat a friend. You deserve that much.

Oh, and all Raphael fans who understand kindness are welcome around me, any hour of the day, I adore our little fandom circles and would gladly collect all of us together. I'm following a lot of you as soon as I find you, like hunting shiny pokemon~

See you in Avernus, my darling Little Mice, may we all find joy in the Cambion's Embrace~

#baldurs gate 3 #raphael #bg3 raphael #villain fucker #personal reflection #analysis of the inner mind by a complete amateur #listen the thoughts get loud then I write them down darlings it happens all the time #love yourself please #you are worth more than you give yourself credit for #and keep loving those villains! it's good for you! #be kind to yourself #and be kind in the community #did this even make sense? well it's there now so tough #DMS are open for fellow fans with excellent taste~

[intheorangebedroom]

You should share more of your thoughts...just saying

Oh Anon 🧡 What a sweet, sweet thing of you to say 🥺

You know what I find myself thinking about a lot? This guy is a fucking pilot. And not just a pilot, he is, and I’m quoting Pope, here, a pilot you can trust. Granted, that chopper crashed. But that’s not on Frankie. Imma right, stfu Tom?

Explicit thoughts below the cut 🔞

No this man can fly, and I constantly think about him flying you for the first time. Because you’ve been asking for months. You love to listen to him talk about it, with a fiery passion that lights up his deep, soulful brown eyes, love the technical lingo you don’t quite understand, and you endlessly imagine, but imagination can only get you this far, so you keep asking for him to take you with him, fly you around, just a bit, a quick tour above the base, until one day, one glorious day, he finally gives in. 

And you know how competent he is, you’ve seen his hands at work, crafting furniture and fixing things around the house, wringing so much pleasure from your trembling body it’ll make you beg and cry, but he can be so quiet and unassertive, he’s unlike any gaslighting douchebag you’ve known in the past, he makes it easy to forget just how confident he truly is and how commanding he can be.

When he gets you into the cockpit, a strong tug at the seatbelt strapped to your chest to make sure it’s safely fastened, when he positions the headset on your head, when he takes his sit next to you and grabs that stick (“that’s the cyclic stick”, he informs you, his low, rambling voice suddenly filling your ear, and you jolt in surprise, never mind the seatbelt holding you down), oh god, your mind swivels and reels, you start to think, thoughts you shouldn’t be having right now.

And you thought you’d be looking at the scenery, you thought you’d enjoy rising above the ground and getting a different view of the world underneath, of the fluffy white clouds, share what it is that he loves about flying, the elating freedom, the change of perspective, but that is not how your world is tipped off its axis. 

You can’t stop staring at him, he is magnificent, his brow knitted in focus, the dimple in his cheek when his mouth twitches absent-mindedly, his eyes measuring, calculating, evaluating, navigating, flicking, restless, between the horizon and the endless stretch of the sky all around, the seat that looks too small to accommodate his solid, broad back, the rolled-up sleeves of his faded red shirt and the muscles of his forearms, rippling under his tanned, freckled skin, his glorious neck, his gorgeous profile, and his skilful hand on that goddamn stick.

You’re mesmerised by his grasp around the girth of the device, the way his thumb occasionally comes to rest on the round top of it, you don’t even register that he sees what you’re looking at, and you miss the smug, knowing half-smile curling his plush lips.

And you never thought you’d ever want it to end, but he can’t get you home fast enough, his hands are all you can look at, their grip on the steering wheel of the truck, their harsh tug at the waist of your jeans to pull them down, deft fingers quickly unbuckling his belt and working open the buttons of his fly. 

You climb onto the large bed in a fever and you’re sprawled onto the white linen ridiculously fast, wild-eyed and feral and dripping for him, a moan spilling from you when he kneels between your open thighs.

He wraps your legs around his waist and you’re already arching your back, a wanton, shameless thing, but he pauses. You raise up to your elbows, and this time, you see it. The smug half-smile dancing on his lips. Your eyes travel down along the column of his neck, down the plane of his chest, painted golden by the orange sunset, down the trail of black hair on his lower belly. 

His hand. His large, competent hand, wrapped around his thick cock, leisurely stroking.

“I saw you looking, baby,” he tells you, and the cocky inflexion of his voice has you moaning louder, and when a bead of precome trickles down over his fist, you make a conscious effort to swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. “You wanna keep looking?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer, not that you can produce one, instead he slides a finder inside your wet heat, down to his knuckle, and slowly pumps it in and out a couple of times before he adds a second, and a third, and you can’t even feel shame for the squelching sound of your cunt pulling them in deeper, your eyes fluttering shut with the stretch.

“Keep looking, baby, keep looking,” he says, his other hand a tight grip on your quivering thigh. 

Your mouth has gone slack, and your arms might give out, because he’s curled his fingers inside you and they’re brushing that spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your skull, but you docilely keep looking, his hand moving back and forth, his fingers thrusting in and out, thumb rubbing circles over your clit, muscles undulating in his forearm. 

Until you start swaying your hips to his movement, and he pulls out. 

“Fuck! Frankie, please,” you cry, voice broken as your head rolls back.

“Keep looking, baby,” he repeats, and his voice has gone lower still, you’re reminded how it sounded like, distorted by the helicopter’s comlink, and you clench around nothing.  

When you manage to lift up your head, your vision’s blurred out and you have to frown. Fingers circling his thick length, he’s coating himself with your slick, and you break into another plea, “Frankie Frankie please, I need–” 

“You need to keep looking,” he finishes for you, and he starts stroking himself hard, pressing his fingers to the ridge underneath his stiff cock glistening with you, pumping through the squeeze of his fisted hand down to his base and up to his fat round tip, and you keep looking, your pussy keeps leaking, and fuck, this is hard for him too, he knows just how good you taste when you want him this much. His other hand’s grasp hardens, your soft flesh gushing through his fingers, beads of sweat pearling on his forehead and curling the longer curls on his nape and around his ears.

Raising himself on his knees, he moves closer to your core and taps his cock on your parted folds and you jerk with a whine, but your eyes grow wide at what he does next. It’s a wet glide of his smooth length through your folds and over your clit, again and again and again with a practised roll of his hips. It’s so much yet not nearly enough, and your elbows finally give out, your back hits the mattress as he picks up the pace. 

Bucking your hips upward, you seek more pressure, and he delivers it with a groan, his cock held deftly at the base between his thumb and index. 

“Keep looking, baby, I’m gonna come for you, gonna come all over your sweet pussy.”

You’re rocking your hips in a frantic rhythm against him and he lets go of your thigh, three of his fingers filling your dripping cunt again and you keen, your own hands scrabbling over the linen for purchase. You raise up your head, glassy eyes strained on the fat head of his dick shining with your slick, disappearing between your folds with each rapid stroke, and you feel your high building just underneath the surface of your quivering skin, crackling like electricity. 

“Can you come like that?” he grunts. 

You never thought... Turns out you can.

🧡

#I don’t know what happened i'm sorry #i don't even think it's good but i hope you enjoy it #the pilot™️ #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x fem!reader #again thank you for that ask 🧡

[randonauticrap]

Double Duty Fantasies

Pairing ~ Jin Grandet, Sariel Noir x Reader

Word Count ~ 4483

Author's note ~ This fic truly turned out to be quite the monster. Once I got inspired (thank you to @aquagirl1978 and her Ikevil Victor fic), I just couldn't seem to stop. Thank you also to this anon for your lovely request, and @maries-gallery and @kissmetwicekissmedeadly for the motivation to finish (pun absolutely intended)!

This fic is for Mo's event Late Summer Rendezvous, using the prompt "Sunset to Sunrise"!

Warnings ~ Sex toys, masturbation, cunnilingus, fingering, praise kink, voyeurism, blowjobs, size kink, vague dom (suitor)/sub (reader), spanking, bdsm, anal, inanimate object penetration, penetration, double penetration, overstimulation, nipple play, creampie, double creampie, ejaculation, double ejaculation, mmf, no sexual interaction between mm

You stretched into the hum of your toy as it vibrated against your sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake as you trailed it over the soft, supple nipple of your right breast. “Mmmm,” you purred, arching your back off the mattress as you chased the pleasant sensations. A whimper broke loose as your nipple began to harden under the pulsing of the soft tip of your toy, a sign it was time to travel downwards to meet your awaiting core. You urged the toy down your body, along the soft planes of your stomach, tracing each curve and dip as you made your way to your plush folds, and allowed your mind to wander as you pushed the toy between your lips and gasped as you reached your clit. 

"J-Jin," you whimpered softly, picturing the 1st Prince's large hands encompassing your body, worshiping it with passionate reverence, dipping his deft fingers between your folds and working you open to fill your hole with his tongue. But Jin wasn't the only one in your fantasy. Another figure lurked in the shadows, tall, slender, mysterious. He watched with diligence, as if memorizing every move that drove you wild, before stepping into the light and brandishing his whip.

 You moaned long and loud as you pressed your toy against your hole, the vibrations filling you with a white hot heat that wouldn't be sated with a single orgasm alone. You chased the tension that gripped you as you began to clench around the tip of the toy, and you were so close to spilling over…so close-

The door to your room swung open abruptly and you yelped in surprise, desperately clawing your way under the sheets to hide your bare body from the intruder. You squinted at the figure in your doorway and your breath began to slow once you realized it was Jin and not some stranger. But as you studied the Prince, you began to notice how unkempt he looked; how animalistic he seemed…how feral his eyes were, and your heart picked up speed of its own accord. 

“Jin,” you said, sounding much more breathless than you had intended to. 

“I like it a lot more when you say my name like you were saying it a minute ago.” he murmured, his red irises large and lust-blown as he stared intently at you, as though he could see right through the bedcovers. 

Your eyes widened and you felt your face flush as the meaning of his words sank in. He heard me. He knew I was fantasizing about him! You buried your face in your hands on instinct. “I’m so sorry!” you cried, an apology the first thing off your tongue. You heard nothing in response for a long time, and, wondering if he had turned around to leave, you dared to peek through your fingers, but what you saw instead had you dropping your hands in surprise. Jin had stripped off his coat and shirt and was skulking towards you, as if hunting his prey, each defined muscle in his chest and abdomen clenching and releasing as he made his way to the side of your bed. “Jin,” you whispered and he crouched beside you, pulling your hand into his two larger ones and looking you in the eyes, more serious than you had ever seen him.

“There’s no need to apologize, sweetheart.” The words were sweet, but the look in his eyes was still predatory and your breath caught in your throat when you tried to answer, so instead of speaking, you simply nodded. He brought his hand up to brush a strand of your disheveled hair from your face and his fingers lingered there at your cheek, stroking your skin gingerly. His touch brought back memories of your fantasy and the place he touched began to heat. Jin must have noticed it too, because he smiled suddenly, and leaned in close, the tip of his nose brushing against the shell of your ear. You shivered as his hot breath hit your neck and his hand found its way under the covers to wrap around your waist. 

"What did you dream of me doing to you, sweetheart?" He whispered into your ear as the pad of his thumb danced around the skin below your breast. You gasped when he cupped it and swiped his thumb over your nipple. "Did I suck on your beautiful tits?" He chuckled darkly and a whimper escaped your lips as you nodded slowly. "Mmm, I know I'd enjoy that." He said, dropping a kiss onto your shoulder as his weight shifted onto you. You let him push you back onto the bed and tug the bedcovers down to reveal your body to the cool night air. Jin groaned as your breasts came into view, and you glanced down at his pants, both proud and thrilled to see how aroused he was. 

"Will you let me make those fantasies come true, princess?" He coaxed from the nape of your neck, biting down on the soft skin there as his hand slithered down your body and cupped you, using his middle finger to make a quick swipe of your wet folds. You mewled softly as he touched you, nearly overwhelmed already by how much more intense the sensations were when it wasn't just a dream. Your eyes closed and you nodded eagerly, desperate to have more of him against you.

He laughed softly against your neck. "Mmm, good girl." You moaned as the nickname sent a jolt of pleasure to your core, and moaned again when Jin used that moment to dip his long finger inside of you to sample your wet warmth. The sensation was so strong; his finger was so deep. 

"Unngghhhhhh, fuck, Jin." You whined, your hips thrusting against his finger as he curled it inside you. Your walls began to spasm around it, but he pulled it out of you quickly and you cried in frustration, your hips bucking harder in search of the friction you had just lost. You opened your eyes to glare at the beautiful man above you, but instead you were mesmerized by the way he took your slick and rubbed it onto your nipple before encasing it with his lips and sucking on it diligently. Your lips fell open and a groan came out as his tongue lapped your peaked bud over and over until you couldn't take any more, then he closed his lips over it and warmed it again, suckling on it like it would keep him alive. 

You watched in dazed awe as he squeezed, perked, and pressed on your breasts until they were red with his fingermarks, and at last, when you tried to squirm away from him because the stimulation was too much, he smiled and sat back, satisfied with his work. You heaved in breath after breath, trying to put your scattered thoughts back together. “Was that all I did in your fantasy?” Jin’s voice was a low rumble at your side, full of mischief and unfulfilled desire. 

“N-no,” you stuttered, the heat he had left untended flaring back to life as you thought of his cock stretching you wide. “But-” you stopped abruptly, wondering if you should tell him about the… other part of your fantasy. 

“But?” he asked, resting his head nonchalantly against his hand, as though he hadn’t just ruined your bedsheets. “Do you not want to go any further?”

“No! That’s not it!” you replied quickly. Too quickly, by the looks of it. Jin sat up and dusted off his pants, feigning casualness. 

“Well, if you can’t tell me what you want, I’m not gonna force ya.” he started to stand up and collect his clothes, and in an act of panic, you shot up off the bed and grasped his muscular arm, pressing it between your breasts and looking up at him desperately. The words came tumbling out before you could stop them.

“I fantasized that you and Sariel were both taking me!”

Jin stopped dead in his tracks and you feared, for only moments, that you had scared him away, or even worse, disgusted him. You retracted your body from him in shame and backed up to the middle of your bed, once again pulling the sheets up over your exposed body, wishing you hadn’t said anything. Jin still stood stiffly at the end of your bed, muscles tensed and unmoving. “Jin, I’m sor-”

“Wait here.” he instructed suddenly, then threw his coat over his shoulders and walked out the door without another word. Confusion mixed with rejection bubbled up inside of you, and all you wanted was to cover yourself from head to toe and cry, but before you could wriggle out of bed to find something to cover your body with, Jin popped his head back in the door. “And don’t you dare put on any clothes.” His tone was so serious that any thought of disobeying him was immediately disregarded and you nodded silently, watching him as he once again disappeared down the hallway. Minutes passed and you wondered if you had been tricked or forgotten, but footsteps down the hallway had you sitting up straight and clutching your bedsheets closer to your chest as they grew nearer.

At last, two figures appeared in your doorway, one you recognized immediately as Jin, but it wasn’t until Jin stepped inside to give you a better view of the other man that you realized it was Sariel. “Wha-” you opened your mouth to ask what was going on, but Jin was on you before you could even finish the first word, his lips claiming yours in a bruising kiss as his coat was once again discarded in the floor. “Jin!” you gasped between kisses as he pulled the covers away from your grasp and positioned himself over you. “What’s going on?!” you managed between assaults on your lips. 

“I said I’d make your dreams come true, didn’t I, babygirl? I meant it.” The words took your breath away and you moaned softly, allowing him to pull you flush against him and drag his semi-hard cock along your pussylips before turning his head to Sariel, who was slowly unbuttoning his shirt as he watched. His long vest cloak was already draped over the back of your sitting chair and his eyes were like slits, boring into you from the other side of the room, so harshly you could almost feel them like hands on your body. 

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Jin smirked, running his palm down your body, from your neck, across your breast, down to your stomach, and coming to rest at your core.

“I knew my student fancied hands-on learning, but I didn’t know she desired to learn such advanced lessons so early on.” Sariel mused, his lip ticking up on one side in a dangerous grin that had your heartbeat sounding between your legs. 

“Well, she gets to learn from me first.” Jin chuckled and crawled down your body, crouching low enough to press a kiss to your slit as you writhed above him, then plunged his tongue between your folds. 

“Ah, Jin!” you cried out, your fingers scrambling to find his hair and tug on it as he stroked your insides with his tongue and nuzzled your clit with his nose. A delectable knot formed in the pit of your stomach as he ravaged you, and your entire body hummed while he pulled moan after salacious moan from your lips. You had lost all sense of time and presence of mind to Jin's tongue deep inside of you, and you didn't even notice the man making his way to your side, now undressed to his boxers, until he leaned over you and grasped your chin in his hand, turning your head to face him. 

“Don’t think for a moment I’ll allow you to forget about me.” Sariel murmured onto your lips before parting them with his tongue and eagerly exploring your mouth. 

“Mmm!” you crooned into his kiss, your tongue dancing with his while his gloved hands made quick work of your nipples, pinching them and rolling them until they stood taut for him to admire. He pulled back, enough to insert his gloved finger into your mouth, instructing you to bite down. When you obeyed, he pulled his hand until it was free of the glove, took it, and had you repeat the process with the other hand. You sighed blissfully as Jin worked you open with his fingers, taking care not to move too quickly. But you couldn’t focus on his ministrations for long, for Sariel had climbed up on the bed with you, and had your hand pressed against his aching bulge. You peeled away the last layer between you and his stiff cock and you moaned as it sprang free from its confines, already half-hard and desperate for your touch. You took it into your hand and gave it several pumps, eliciting a guttural growl from the minister kneeling next to you. Spurred on by his reaction, you opened your lips and took his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it before sucking on it ever so slightly.

“Urgh,” Sariel grunted, struggling to still his stuttering hips. “Keep going.” he instructed, and you answered with a bob of your head on his stiffening member, pumping him with your hand and sucking him with your mouth. You had settled into an easy, pleasurable rhythm when you felt Jin’s finger plunge into your warmth and curl inside of you. You purred onto Sariel’s firm length and your body contorted as a sharp wave of heat hit you from the force of the stimulation. But just like last time, Jin removed his finger before granting you a release, planting a chaste kiss on your sopping folds before nodding to Sariel, who pulled his girth out of your mouth and backed off the bed, making his way instead to the sitting chair where his cape was flung and sitting down on it. He continued to stroke his own cock as Jin repositioned himself, a hand on each of your legs, pulling them apart and resting them on his shoulders before lining himself with your entrance.

“Ready, babygirl?” he smirked down at you, his handsome face and cocky smile nearly sending you to bliss as-is. You nodded, too hazy with lust to form a response, and he chuckled, rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb as he entered you. You groaned lewdly, no longer caring who might hear through the door. His cock felt so good stretching you out like that, the stinging pain nothing in comparison to how indescribably satisfying it was to be filled by him. 

“Jin!” you cried, wanting him closer. “M-more, please! More..” you sounded like a wanton, needy mess, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as your walls welcomed all of Jin in and squeezed around him like a vice. “Ahh!” you yelped as he started moving, each vein and ridge sending your eyes rolling back in your head and your breath leaving you in gasps.

“I’ll give my princess anything she wants.” Jin grunted as he rolled his hips into your ass, pushing your legs up further, further, til he was bent over you rutting into your cunt and reaching deeper than you thought possible. 

“F-fuck me, Jin, please, please!” you pleaded as the knot in the pit of your stomach pulled taut. 

“Ya look so pretty- ungh! - look so pretty on my cock, sweetheart. Fuck you’re so pretty when you’re - ugh - drunk on my - nghh - cock.” His words were punctuated by grunts and moans of his own, chasing his high alongside you. 

“Please Jin, please. Daddy please, please Jin.” you begged as your body twisted, pressing closer to Jin, urging yourself down onto his cock over and over and over. You were so close, then you felt Jin’s fingers press into your clit and rub tight circles there.

“Mmm callin’ me daddy? Such a good girl. Gonna cum on my cock, princess? Hm? Gonna cum - ngh - all over me?”

“Ah, yes! Jin! Fuck!” you cried, his beckoning sending you over the edge. You clamped down on his cock and let out a long whine as you rode out your high with him inside you. 

As your breath returned to you and you started to relax, Jin gently pulled out of you, leaving you feeling empty. You whimpered at the loss, but Jin cupped your face gently and brought your lips to his once, twice, a third time before murmuring, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You won’t be empty long.” He crawled off the bed and nodded to Sariel, who had been waiting patiently while Jin had his way with you. 

You were still in a haze as Sariel took Jin’s place on the bed and hauled you up, flipping you over to rest on all fours. “Hmmm.” he mused, stationing himself behind you to admire your plump rear and your swollen clit. “You were too gentle with her, Jin.” he said decidedly. 

Smack!

“Unghh!” you cried out suddenly as Sariel’s hand smacked your ass cheek. The blissful daze was gone in an instant and the itching burn in your core had returned. 

“That’s more like it. You need to be disciplined, don’t you, Belle?” he crooned in your ear and you nodded obediently, earning another forceful smack! to the backside. You felt the wetness in your core leaking from your slit as Sariel continued to administer your punishment. “Hand me my whip.” you heard him tell Jin and you bit back a moan. “Take that pillow and lay your head down, Belle.” Sariel instructed and you complied without hesitation, settling your cheek into the plush pillow and pushing your ass further in the air, expecting to feel the sharp sting of the whip. Instead, you felt something entirely different. 

“Oh…” you whimpered softly as the blunt end of the whip entered your pussy. Your jaw dropped open as he pumped the whip in and out of your cunt, fucking you from behind. But none of those sensations could have prepared you for the insatiable burn that took hold of you when Sariel thrust his pinkie into your puckered asshole. Words were no longer possible as Sariel spread both of your holes to use for his enjoyment, and tears pricked your eyes as the dueling sensations overstimulated you to the point of incoherent babbling. 

“If you want two men’s cocks,” Sariel taunted as he continued his incursion of your holes. “You need to be trained to handle two men’s cocks. Isn’t that right?”

“Nghhh uh huh mmmm,” it was all you could muster, but it seemed enough for Sariel as he pumped you faster, adding another finger to your asshole as he stretched you. “Fuuuuck Sariel!” you groaned, gripping the pillow your head rested on with all your might as he thrusted his fingers and his whip in and out of you at a relentless pace. “Ah!” you cried in frustration as he removed everything from your body at once, leaving you empty and aching. You tried giving him a piece of your mind, but the words came out as a blubbering mess of gibberish and you gave up as a tear rolled down your face.

“C’mon now, Sariel, don’t make the lady cry.” Jin chided from the chair in the corner, and Sariel sighed. 

“Very well, I shall give you what you want.” He slid his cock up and down your wet folds, coating his length in your slick. You were desperate to be filled to the brim with something; anything, that would fill the emptiness your pussy walls clenched around as Sariel’s plump tip swiped your clit again. A shiver of pleasure ran through you as you felt his cock head teasing your entrance but not quite pushing through. Desperate, you wiggled your rear back towards him, as if you could coax him into your pussy. But Sariel didn’t like being rushed, and you received a warning smack to your pussylips that had you yelping and settling down, ready to be obedient again. 

When he finally entered you, you sighed in relief, the friction feeling so good within your throbbing heat that all of his previous teasing was immediately forgiven. He grasped your hips with his hands and bounced you forward and back, thrusting his girth into your dripping cunt roughly, hitting that deep spot inside of you that had you seeing stars behind your eyes as you cried out his name again and again. As you rode him, he plunged his fingers back into your puckered hole and worked you open, bit by bit, ignoring how your mewls and cries got louder as he did so. 

Then all of the sudden, he paused, halting his movements, and before you knew what was happening, he had pulled out of you and his hands were on your breasts, guiding you up to press your back against his chest. He held you there as Jin crawled onto the bed in front of you and laid down on his back, looking up at you with unbridled lust in his eyes as he brushed your pink lips with his thumb. "Ready for two, sweetheart?" He chuckled, rubbing tight circles around your clit as Sariel helped you ease your legs open and scoot forward to balance your entrance over Jin's length. You had been so ready to imagine it, but now that you were here, faced with two beautiful men with two very large members, you hesitated, wondering if the pain would outweigh the pleasure. "Hey," Jin's voice brought you back to earth and you gazed down at his softened expression. "We're gonna take care of you, make sure you feel so good. And if you want us to stop, we will, okay? This is all you." You glanced over your shoulder at Sariel and he nodded, his own features softening ever so slightly as he pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, and your shoulders relaxed. You were in safe hands with your two men, and you were thankful they had reminded you. 

"Mkay," you murmured. "I'm ready." 

"C'mere, princess. Sit down on me." Jin coaxed and you obliged him, sinking down onto his thick cock with a long moan that rattled your entire body. He took hold of your hips and lowered you down to him, covering your lips with his and stroking your back gently as you readjusted to his wider girth. Once you nodded, he began thrusting up into you, moulding your pliant pussy around his cock as he plunged into you over and over again. You let your full weight rest on his muscular chest as he pumped you full, only slowing down once Sariel lined up with your asshole and slowly worked his way inside. 

You cried out loudly, pain ripping through you as Sariel’s cock stuffed you full. He paused, waiting for you to either adjust or tell him to stop. Jin kissed your forehead and reached between your legs to rub your clit, trying to ease your tension. You focused on Jin's deft fingers for awhile and were finally able to relax into his embrace again. You nodded, telling Sariel it was okay for him to continue moving, and he was able to fully sheath himself in your hole. You groaned when Sariel started to move, the pleasure of being completely filled in both holes robbing you of all sense. 

"Mmm," you hummed, adjusting yourself ever so slightly. Each tiny movement caused a new wave of heat in your core to erupt, and you nearly came undone in the first few seconds. But your body became more accustomed to the pressure, and Jin and Sariel began to coordinate their thrusts so that you would always be filled with one of them. 

Your moans got louder as they pounded into you, their cocks twitching inside of you, pushing you closer to the edge with every thrust. "Ah, ah!" You yelped, useless as you were bounced on their two pulsing cocks like a living toy. "Please, yes. Please make me cum, please let me cum, I'm gonna cum, please." You stammered, not fully aware of everything you were saying. But they felt so good and you didn't want it to stop, and you kept begging as they rutted into you. Sariel leaned down to your ear and whispered, "Are you going to cum for us, sweet little helpless Belle?" And at the same time, Jin closed his lips around one of your nipples and sucked hard. You lost your vision as the walls of both your abused holes clamped down on the two men's cocks with a vice grip, sucking them both in as far as they'd go. Your legs started shaking and you were fairly sure you were calling Jin and Sariel's names into the night air as you came hard and fast on both of their eager cocks. 

You had little hold on reality, but in your bliss you could still feel the two men cumming inside of you, filling your holes with their seed and making sure that none was wasted on your bedsheets. You vaguely recognized the feeling of being laid down on your pillow, and the last thing you remembered was being encapsulated in warmth. 

When the sun was high in the sky later that morning, and its rays stirred you from your deep slumber, you looked around lazily to find yourself alone in your bed, and your room had been put back exactly the way it had been before Jin came in the night before. "That wasn't a dream, was it?" You thought to yourself as you tried to prop yourself up on your elbow. The searing ache that followed that slight bit of movement told you that no, it definitely was not a dream. So why had they left? You continued your visual sweep of the room and your eyes landed on a note sitting atop your bedside table that most definitely had not been there last night. You opened it and smirked at the contents, already knowing what your answer would be.

Belle,

Apologies for leaving so early, we had some official business that needed tending to. However, Prince Jin has made it known to me that he is free this Friday evening, and it just so happens that I am free that evening as well. Shall we rendezvous again then? Until that time, I am certain that both Prince Jin and I would be delighted to spend some more…daylight-appropriate quality time with you. 

Do not let these trysts affect your studying habits, or we shall have to discuss your punishment. I do hope you slept well and there is a salve for the pain in the top drawer

Sariel & Jin 

~

Tags for the Lovelies: @aquagirl1978 @maries-gallery @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @rhodolitesroseforclavis @ikehoe @queengiuliettafirstlady @nightghoul381 @ominousjangling

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen series #jin grandet #sariel noir #ikepri jin #ikepri sariel #ikemen prince jin #ikemen prince sariel #ikepri smut #ikemen prince smut #sariel noir smut #jin grandet smut #otome game #otome #late summer rendezvous #late summer rendezvous ccc

[iamthecomet]

O my o my o my

I saw a tiktok of a man. Who has a belly button piercing. And I immediately thought of Dew, and fell to my knees.

I’m not sure if you’re taking request but I wanted this image in your mind, but if it doesn’t fit your fancy that’s totally fine:)

Anyway what if Dew got one specifically for Aether, because he knew how he’d act. And when Aether finds out he goes full feral. He didn’t think Dew could get any prettier, then he does this.

I've been sitting on this for TOO long. I've been trying to decide how I want to answer it. I headcanon that AETHER has a belly button piercing (because come ON) soooo do with that what you will. ANYWAY. This is uh...nastier than I planned.

It's been a rough few weeks. Dew's had to play the long game--something he is not used to. He hates it. Hates avoiding Aether on purpose, lying to him. But it's all worth it for this moment. When he has Aether in his room, laying on his bed, shirtless and lax. The ruddy head of his cock peeking out under the waistband of his sweatpants. Dew drags his shirt up over his head and Aether makes a choked noise. It's not the usual reverent sigh. Aether's intentional about his praise. He always has a remark when Dew takes his shirt off. Always saying something about how pretty, how soft, how badly he wants to touch.

But this time? There is the strangled moan, and then nothing. Aether's eyes are fixed on Dew's belly. They're usually drawn to the nipple rings. Aether has a thing for piercings, Dew discovered it early on, and exploits it at every turn. Walking around shirtless when he probably shouldn't be just to watch the way Aether hones in on the metal.

But his eyes don't shift up this time. They're focused on the new piercing. The two ball ends of the bar through his belly button. Dew reaches over and thumbs over the ring through Aether's. "We match." Dew doesn't get a response. Not a verbal one. Instead, he's flat on his back on the bed and Aether is on top of him, wedging himself between his legs, before Dew can draw a full breath. Aether kisses him, hard, before Dew can open his mouth to say something else.

Aether licks into his mouth and trails his fingers down Dew's sternum, over the flat plane of his belly to press his thumb to the piercing. It doesn't do anything, not like when Aether does the same to his nipples. But it gives him a small jolt all the same. Connection.

Satanas he's getting soft. When Aether finally tires of his mouth and starts to drag his teeth over Dew's jaw, his pulse, down to his collarbone. Dew finally regains his breath, his words. "You like it?" Aether looks up at him, his eyes wild, pupils blown out. He looks like he's been caught, called out. He grips one hand on Dew's hip hard. He licks his lips. Aether, again, doesn't answer him verbally. He ducks his head instead to catch one of the nipple rings between his teeth. Dew's brain short circuits. Aether is quick, heavy-handed. He flattens Dew to the bed and drags his sweatpants down. He wastes no time prepping Dew and pressing his knees up by his ears to get in as deep as he can. Dew's head is spinning. Pleasure grinding through him from every angle. He grins up at Aether as he fucks into him. Aether trails his thumb over the new piercing again. And this is why Dew waited because he knew Aether would have to touch, to taste, to toy with it. And the reverence on Aether's face is worth all the time he spent trying to avoid this. "Gonna have to get pierced more often," Dew pants as he gets a hand on himself and starts to jerk himself off in time with Aether's thrusts.

"You're so fucking hot, you know that?" Aether growls.

"Only got it because it looks so good on you," Dew says, voice hitching into a whine as Aether changes the angle and starts nailing against the spot that makes Dew shake almost instantly. He rockets towards his orgasm, twisting his hand over the head of his leaking cock as Aether fucks him into the mattress. "Aeth, fuck, I'm gonna--" "Yeah. Yeah. C'mon. Make it messy for me."

Dew has one last fleeting thought about how sanitary it is for him to cum all over a barely healed piercing before he's doing exactly that. Body clenching down on Aether, and bowing off the bed. His eyes roll back in his head with the force of it.

Aether groans low and deep and then his fingers are dragging through the cum on Dew's belly. Slipping over the piercing rolling it between his cum slick fingers. Dew wants to look away, wants to close his eyes against the overstimulation, he can't. Not until Aether throws his head back and cums with a shout. Only then does Dew allow himself to sag back onto the sheets. Aether rolls off of him, their shoulders pressed together as they both come down. "So you, uh, I guess you do like it then."

"Yeah," Aether says with a laugh, "I guess I do."

#comet writes #mo #ficlet #request #pierced ghouls #aether/dewdrop #dewdrop/aether #aether x dewdrop #dewdrop x aether #nameless ghoul fan fiction #the band ghost fan fiction #ghost fic #ghost fan fiction #unedited

[lokvadnod]

Hi there! I just found this blog and omg I've found my people lol. I just read your response to an ask requesting how one of our yautja boys would react to their human going down on them for the first time, which was incredibly hot and also hilarious, and I had to ask - do you envision the same sort of reaction from a female yautja? Because not to get too into it here in your asks unprompted - but if there's one way this gal wants to go out its with her head between Those Thighs TM

You and I are in the same boat, friend. (Says a creepy voice from the shadows as I rise from the grave with this post lol)

(My take on this with a male yautja can be found here.)

I kinda feel like a female Yautja would be a lot more calm, a lot more logical, and way more permissive from the jump. A Yautja female doesn't have to worry about an appendage being gnawed off, and she certainly doesn't have any perturbation about your oral structure, as dull and unthreatening as it looks. I don't think female-receiving oral is a big thing for Yautja, (though it's far more probable than its male counterpart) but maybe they engage in tongue action from time to time with their own species. I do, however, think that the idea of lips, blunt teeth, and a wider, much smoother tongue would interest a female yautja enough to make her want to try it from the minute the topic is raised...

Mature content below the cut

Terrifying could be a very fitting adjective for your situation for some. A less seasoned human in the fine art of romancing deadly extraterrestrials would probably have bowed out long before now, before a massive, clawed hand could find purchase on the back of your fragile, tiny head.

She's 8 and a half feet of nothing but thew and venom. More muscle than you've ever seen packed onto a curvy frame, with muscular pectorals and the nicest ass and hips you've ever seen. And it's all wrapped in a pretty package of dappled greens and browns, textured skin pulled over the planes of her body in such a right way that it isn't fair.

She's absolutely gorgeous... you know, in her own viscerally terrifying way.

Currently a grunting, growling mess, all teeth and fire-eyes as she writhes beneath you, she's even more alluring. Like a needy predator with deadly claws, she grinds just this side of too hard into your face with a rolling insistence that sparks at your need to provide and please her, wanton enough to inspire a succinct pride within you that you are the source of such a massive, intimidating galactic predator's pleasure.

"Right there." She grits through her teeth, somehow making it sound like a plea and a demand in one. Tree trunk thighs tighten around your head, careful not to pop it like a too-ripe watermelon, and she goes completely still.

Convergent evolution - if such concepts can be applied interplanetarily- is a magnificent thing. Darwin, or what dust is left of him after those centuries past, should be doing backflips in his grave...

In two beats, she's gone, mewling to the stars on the other side of the tempered window in wild bursts of feral pleasure, praying to her brutal gods in a fraternal echo of any human ever to be in her position. Every muscle, previously taut enough that it felt like you could be doing unspeakable things to a boulder, whips along the complete axis of it's motion, spasming in wild bursts of pleasure. As she comes down, panting and growling, she goes limp, only exerting enough energy to haul you up along her frame so you can rest atop her.

On your lips, linger the alien taste of her release, like something not quite familiar enough for a name or a likeness. Gently, she caresses you, tapered claws trailing up and down your back as you rise and fall in time with her massive chest.

"You..." she pants, and you're struck anew with pride at how unraveled you can get her, gruff and unmovable as she usually is. "You are quite skilled with that mouth of yours."

Compliments as such are not unheard of from her but they do fall sparingly and so you soak this one up with a grin. Those shark-like eyes that you've grown to love wander over your face, mapping the topography as if trying to discern for herself what makes your facial structure so pleasurable.

"Consider my ego stroked," you joke, and those eyes swipe up to bore into yours.

"You would like something else stroked." It's not a question, it's a statement she knows to be true and she gives you no time to answer before she rolls and she's on top of you.

Already breathless, you chuckle and bloom beneath her, body spreading under her wandering claws that you know from experience she can use so skillfully...

#This is.... a very late answer #anon if you ever see this I'm sorry I made you wait 15 million years lol #yautja #predator #female yautja

[liesonthefloordramatically]

you know that I continue to be feral for news of hualian fake dating and also I'll tell it right this time I swear.... but if you'd prefer a different one, oldseph character study?

(ask game over here)

Rowan, you are very sweet, so, guess what, you get snippets of all three.

Hualian fake dating: I feel like pretty much every bit from this that's viewable is in fact something you have already seen, but here we go anyway. At least half of this fic is Hua Cheng Going Through It because he's in a fake dating fic while Xie Lian has the entire TV Tropes page for fake dating pulled up in his mind at all times. I love Xie Lian and I love writing him from an outside perspective even more. He's so frickin' weird.

“I’m sorry if I’m prying,” Xie Lian says, not breaking eye contact, “but...I know what it’s like to be lonely.  I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”  He smiles, a half-hearted, lopsided jerk of his mouth.  Xie Lian smiles so much, but so often his smiles are there to make him look harmless–a quiet, gentle, ever-smiling trash collector.  Someone easy to overlook.  Someone not worth the effort.   “I’m sorry that gege is lonely,” Hua Cheng says, because it’s easier than addressing the rest of it. Xie Lian’s gaze drops again.  “I’m not lonely anymore,” he says, and maybe there’s real happiness behind his small smile this time.  “I have you, don’t I?” Hua Cheng’s throat works, but no words come out. “And Shi Qingxuan,” Xie Lian continues, oblivious to Hua Cheng’s floundering.  “And Fu Yao and Nan Feng.  And Lang Ying and Ban Yue!  I have so many new friends.” “Good,” Hua Cheng says, far too fervently.  “Everyone should love gege.” Xie Lian looks up again, that strangely penetrating gaze.  “Mm,” he says, and then very quickly changes tacks.  “And you have your beloved.” Hua Cheng’s too aware of the proprietor furiously wiping the table behind them long after it should have been spotless.  “You are my beloved,” he says, and if his voice trembles, he can blame it on stage fright. There’s no blush this time, strangely–just Xie Lian watching him, just Xie Lian’s thoughts hidden behind his unreadable face.  Then, an apologetic smile–and Hua Cheng can see the performance now, the moment when Xie Lian chooses to make himself small and harmless.  “Right,” Xie Lian says.  “Ah, where is my head tonight?”

I'll tell it right this time I swear: the premise of this fic is simply "can I craft a fic that is custom-engineered in a lab to make Rowan lose it." (Slightly more serious explanation: it's a fic about grief and memory and iterative storytelling. there's a lot going on here, don't worry about it.)

You don't answer. You haven’t had to explain yourself to anyone yet. Lucy understood--or she understood enough not to ask. You were grateful, at the time, too scraped raw by Gyro’s loss to even be able to imagine retelling it. Maybe that’s why there are no words when you reach for them. Maybe you just haven’t had enough practice sketching the hole Gyro left behind. (Maybe it’s none of their fucking business.)

Oldseph fic: fun fact: I think I started this one before I started writing linear time is fake. when I say it takes forever for the words to coalesce I am really not kidding. the number of things in this one that are me going "I've connected the dots" about things that literally no one cares about is wild, but please have the opening of the fic (complete with my incomplete sentence because this is how my process works).

The morning after they’ve made it back to Japan, Joseph rolls out of bed (literally rolls, because the bed is on the floor, which is insane and he hates) with a crick in his neck.  It’s not surprising--as his grandson loves reminding him, he is old, and the bed is on the floor for some unfathomable reason and plane rides have always wreaked havoc on his body, even when he hasn’t literally wrecked them. If you kept up with your hamon practice, this wouldn’t happen, a voice inside his head nags, and he stubbornly ignores it, as he always does.  He could [whatever], but hard work and routine are near the top of the list of things Joseph can do without.  Still, sometimes hamon can be useful, especially when he needs to get a crick out of his neck. Joseph makes sure his posture is more or less correct.  He takes a deep breath.  For a moment, it feels like all his blood is running backward through his veins, and then a moment later the pain spreads from his chest to his torso all the way to his fingers and toes.  It’s indescribable--like liquid fire, like his skin is going to blister and slough off.  Joseph’s breathing stutters, his energy shuddering out of his grasp, and just as suddenly as it started, it’s over, and he just feels like he’s been sunburned from the inside out. The morning after they’ve made it back to Japan, Joseph discovers that being pumped full of vampire blood has some unintended consequences.

#ask Queenie #Queenie actually says something on this blog #parallelism palooza: the journey #again. ideas that I'm very excited about. if only I had the time and energy for writing slkjflkdusoifsuasa #some of the concepts in the Oldseph one are really top-tier. but I will not spoil them. someday. it will manifest #(I do have to figure out my Joseph narrative voice--that's probably the biggest stumbling block) #(takes me a little while to figure out what narrators sound like and then once I have it it's smooth sailing)

[onebigerror]

@araneorum - continued from here

jackie was disgusted with liv’s behavior. shouldn’t she be building people upset instead of tearing through things like a feral cat? optimism was needed more than resorting to the ways of a wild beast just because they were in some woods that may or may not be remote. no one knew the full situation just yet. there were just a lot of trees surrounding them. they’d been there less than twenty-four hours and they probably wouldn’t even see another day in that place. “someone is coming.” she repeated even if it seemed to fall on deaf ears. “fine, i don’t even want any of this stuff anymore.” jackie didn’t like to hold on to bad memories and that was now what everything in that suitcase was - forever attached to a horrible plane crash. she was fortunate enough to be able to want for nothing when she went back home. people like natalie? now they were fucked. she made a mental note to offer the things she planned to toss to anyone who might want them before doing so.

liv’s words cut into her but the team captain refused to let it show. hadn’t she always been nice enough to her? at least she understood van’s scathing behavior even if she still felt it was unwarranted. what more could she have done - she’d been almost sure the goalie wasn’t going to make it. and the plane looked like it was going to catch fire. why put shauna at risk trying to bail her out. someone else had come through for her so it all worked out in the end. maybe it was a shit way to handle things but no one was in their right mind in a time of such overwhelming crisis. she did not deserve to be treated so harshly and unfairly. “glad to be of some use aside from trying to keep people motivated.” she muttered as she sat down on a rock to watch her luggage be ripped apart. “i certainly don’t.” that was a given. but everyone knew just who did. she wouldn't mentino natalie. liv seemed to be extra protective when it came to the burnout member of the team. “having a drink and impairing your judgment isn’t going to help anyone right now.” neither was anything else liv was doing. they all should just be focusing on waiting for help to arrive.

#araneorum #↾ ֍ jackie taylor ⋯ interactions ֎ ↿ #↾ jackie x liv (001 / araneorum) ↿ #↾ ֍ all queued up : queue ֎ ↿

[barbwritesstuff]

Top 5 TV series!

I forgot I put that 'top five' thing into my queue and wasn't sure what prompted this message until I scrolled back through my blog.

Thanks for the ask, anon! I hope you're ready for some unpopular (and very dated) picks.*

5. Art Attack

Look, I was a lonely kid. For much of my childhood it was just me and my brother... and this very keen British man who taught me how to turn scrap paper, paint, and foil into my own spaceship cockpit. Ideas from this show allowed me to decorate my room as a kid, got me through high school art class, and saved my arse several times when I was a kindergarten teacher in South Korea.

One of the best informational programmes ever made. They should bring it back.

4. Air Crash Investigation

I'm sorry. I know it's cheap. I know it's tacky. I know all that. But I love this show. I love learning about and solving mysteries that aren't murders (sorry Sherlock), and the terrible acting makes it so much better. I can't watch this show with people, because I always try to guess the cause of the crash before the end of the episode and yell it out... and I don't know anything about planes to I'm usually very wrong.

Example:

Me: "It's the bulkhead! Check the bulkhead, you fools!"

Voice over: "The investigators check the bulkhead, but find nothing."

Me: "Yes! Because it's clearly the wings, like I've been saying all along."

3. Justice League Animated Series

I got into this series really late. I'd just moved out of home for the first time to go to film school and was having a hard time making friends. I don't know how it happened, but I somehow ended up watching the entirety of the DC Animated Universe during that time, which is impressive, because internet was expensive and terrible where I was living, so I had to go to the library, download episodes, and walk the 45 minutes home carrying my massive old laptop. It was a feat, but it was worth it. This show did what the Avengers couldn't, made me love superheroes.

2. Yu-Gi-Oh!

When I was 12 I was the best Yugioh player in my school. Sure, it wasn't a big school, and not everyone was into the game, but it was still a big deal for me, especially as I was also the only girl who played. The game has since evolved way beyond my skill level, but at the time, I was a god among mortals. 12 year old mortals, but still. I got up early every morning to see the latest episode, and then I went to school ready to d-d-d-d-duel.

Xena: Warrior Princess

I'm sorry. This show is just so nostalgic for me. For a while, I grew up on a farm with no actual TV signal, but we did have old VHS recordings of Xena and I watched it religiously. Lucy Lawless is amazing and this show is forever the best thing to come out of the 90s (and I say that while also, myself, being a product of the 90s). It has:

Monsters

Magic

Mayhem

Queer Love (not explicitly stated, but this wasn't queerbaiting, this was censorship, they were a couple by the mid point of the series, they just couldn't say it, so instead they made a lot of unsubtle sex jokes and came up with obscure reasons why they always had to kiss to save the world).

Aotearoa (New Zealand is the most beautiful place on the planet, I'm sorry if you disagree, you are wrong).

Tonal whiplash (not just between episodes, but sometimes in the same episode, and it was wild)

One very horny vampire episode

Xena can sometimes fly without any explanation

They met an early reincarnation of Jesus and he was a conman living in India?

You know that scene where Character A gets hurt and Character B goes absolutely feral? This.

Leather bikinis and ninja kicks except it's ancient Greece, maybe

The musical episode was the best episode

They fight on ladders a lot and I just think that's neat

*Disclaimer: I am into more modern and normal things but I'm in a nostalgic mood, so these are the things you get to hear about today.

#tv shows #top 5

[thechillsquid]

Good Omens Thoughts

Im going feral I’m going wild I’m totally normal about this show (lying)

Spoilers for season two below

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I WAS FUCKING RIGHT I WAS RIGHT I FUCKING TOLD MY SIBLING WHEN SEASON TWO RELEASED THAT I THOUGHT WE WOULD BE GETTING THE SECOND COMING AND I WAS MORHERFUCKING RIGHT!!!!!

Also so much confirms my thoughts that Crowley is infact the Archangel Raphael, we never get what he was called in heaven, he is important enough to be able to call angels to help him with tasks, fucking flipped that folder open no effort, I’m so silly I’m so silly I’m silly jeez louis

Also just the fact that the other Archangels were full on ready to alt delete Gabriel’s memories makes me think they are def hiding shit, and they want these things hidden still

So like what if Crowley learned something while in heaven he wasn’t supposed to, cause like my man’s just wants to get away from it all and do his own thing and like my thoughts are everywhere BUT I THINK CROWLEY KNOWS SO MUCH MORE SHIT THEN WE KNOW AND I THINK THAT ITS SOME CRITICAL PEICES AND ARGHHH

Also. God wasn’t in the second season narrating like She had been doing in season one??????? Like what happened with that???? Where is She?????? Also why haven’t we heard much about the Holy Spirit or Jesus besides the crucifixion? Like you’d imagine they’d be about more? I dunno

Further things, I think we’re going to see flashbacks to the war because it keeps on popping up and now with the Second Coming? Mmmmmmmmmm

I also think that we may see Pugratory but I’m not as confident and that’s just a what if since we’ve seen Heaven and Hell but what about other planes like

Also I think we’re going to see more of Hell in-depth cause we’ve been like lingering in Heaven this season; oh yeah like where the fuck are all the demons and angels btw????

Like sure we see demons and we see the archangels + Muriel, but like… where are the legions? Where are all the angels that in season one were all busying about??????

That fucking coffee as well is fucking. Sus. Sus ass coffee. Sus ass Aziraphale. Fucking ‘I speak to God totally’ dude is a lying fuck that I bet hasn’t actually heard God in ages and is going for a power hit. Sus ass Crowley as well.

Everyone is sus!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also. I think we are going to get two more angelic/demonic relationships next season because we’ve always had three (major/important) relationships per season.

1: Madam + Witch Hunter dude; Newt + Our lovely witch gal; Crowley + Aziraphale

2: Lesbian gals; Gabriel + Beelzebub; Crowley + Aziraphale

So we had in season 1 two human couplings and one celestial coupling; season 2 we had one human dealo and two celestial couplings; so I think we could get three celestial couplings but that is also unsupported by much of of anything besides this loose pattern

Im going feral and I shall wait until I am fed with more lore and blah. But dear goodness so much to try and take in and even more issuing with trying to get all my thoughts out into something coherent lmao

Also Beëlzebub and Gabriel becoming a thing made me so silly goofy happy

#good omens #good omens two #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 #im going feral #IT IS SO GOOD #WINNING AND LOSING

[thorniest-rose]

so i'm about half way through yellowjackets and sort of idly started wondering about an au where somehow daniel and the cobras all ended up completely off the grid. torn on the idea of kreese being there because i also love the idea of the cobras all turning on him at one point (and if kreese goes missing a certain someone might then turn up to add fuel to the fire) but either way. sweet deer daniel is in the jaws of the wolves

OH!!!!!!!!!!! Oh my god... okay, I love that you're watching Yellowjackets!! I watched it at the end of last year and I was sooo obsessed with it, I really need more people to watch it because I feel like it went a little under the radar as it wasn't on a streaming service like Netflix. But second of all: YES YES YES. I hadn't thought about a Yellowjackets / Lord of the Flies kind of scenario with Daniel and the Cobras but I LOVE THIS. Like maybe they're going on a school trip together or they're flying to a karate tournament outside of California when the plane crashes??

So they crash, but they all survive (would it just be the Cobras and Daniel or more kids from school?), but of course if all the adults who were on-board died and it's just the kids left, of course there would be an initial power struggle, as all the survivors would need a leader and of course it would be Johnny, backed up by the Cobras. Just imagining them all going feral over time, but having to be organised too and hunt and kill animals so they have meat, and Johnny and the other boys paint their faces in blood and Johnny gets a crown made from bones and they all start believing in powerful entities in the forest and make ritual sacrifices to them.

And then of course there's sweet little Daniel who'd try to remain as civilised as he can for as long as possible and would resist Johnny's power and recognising him as his leader. And would probably try to escape in the middle of the night, but of course he'd be captured again and brought to Johnny. Like I can just see the Cobras tracking and hunting Daniel down in the woods, like he's their prey, and just when Daniel thinks he's got away, they pounce on him. And Daniel would be SUCH a goner with five mad, feral boys all on him at once, biting at him and pulling his clothes off so they can fuck him and claim him, all of them taking their turn... before bringing him back and locking him up because he can't be trusted, and then every day visiting him so they can play with him. And Daniel tries to be strong and tries to break out again but he slowly starts to succumb to his inner wild thing too and starts getting used to being Johnny and the Cobras' pet... scream.

omg there's actually a scene you might not have seen yet involving a lot of the girls and Travis... let me know when you've seen it because this is making me think of that scene dhdhdgs

#asks #lawrusso asks #cobras x daniel

[bluebunnyears-08]

tails ideas and headcanons

Originally posted on my ao3, these are just simple ideas and headcanons about our fluffy fox boi <3.

If any of you want to use any of these ideas, knock yourself out!

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Alright so these are the ideas I have rn:

Tails is reincarnated into a chao and tries to reunite with Sonic (who's still processing grief and unfortunately has no way of communicating with his old friend)

Tails is believed to be a kitsune by a bunch of cultists and is kidnapped and worshipped (probably crack idk)

Tails is still kidnapped by the Zhetti, however instead of just turning him into a robot they also wipe his memories as well (he still changes it he'd have free will, unfortunately he doesn't know they were taking his memories as well so...that happened)

Sonic dies, sacrificing himself for the world, and Tails refuses to move on like everyone else. Months after his death, a certain blue blur comes in spirit to bring his friend acceptance and peace.

Tails travels to the future and finds it in ruins and tries to figure out how to change it along with silver (yes this is a reference to umbrella academy)

Tails gets turned into a robot by Eggman but he isn't recognizable to his friends (he can't speak or move in his own will but he still tries to let them know he's there)

Tails gets into an accident (probably plane) that renders him mute, dead, and blind, and leaving some body parts unable to function, relying on his sense of touch and those around him

Tails makes a deal to a certain alien cat and dooms himself to damnation (yes it's that cookie-less Oreo fuck Kyubey!) and none of his friends know what's going on

Tails has repetitive nightmares about tails doll and gets very paranoid and jumpy (not letting people know what's going on because it's "just nightmares")

Tails finds out he's a kitsune, not in the best way, leaving him thinking of himself as a horrible beast dangerous to his friends ( staying away from them and things go downhill and shit) and tries to control his powers so he doesn't hurt anyone

Tails lives in a world where Robotnick kills Sonic and takes over mobius, when he goes to the place when sonic was murdered and buried by the rubble (for a reason idk yet), he accidently brings the blue blur back to life (back then he vowed in death to come back and stop Eggman or something idk, and yes this is inspired by corpse bride) also tails never met sonic so he's obviously going to freak out about this corpse coming out of its grave.

Tails gets tired to being treated like a child and being scolded for his inventions, and gets cat mask that'll turn him into a cat (Just watched a Whisker Away)

Tails gets kidnapped instead of Sonic in Sonic Forces and gets tortured within six months and turns into a feral paranoid boi (which is entirely from his unhinged 3rd person perspective)

Tails gets dragged into a spirit realm and must find his way home back to his physical body (which is now in a coma in the real world)

Tails is stuck in a time loop, but everytime he dies, a flower blooms on his body (yep we're going flower fell, while I'm not a fan of the shipping, I do find the concept very interesting)

I just recently thought of the idea that Tails is a borrower. Like borrowers exist in this universe, and they look like mobians but have rat or mouse like features in their ears, noses, and legs. Tails would probably be a wild borrower, living in the forest, mainly cause the other borrowers, who live in houses make fun of his two tails, and don't allow him to live with them (he'd still have two fluffy fox tails) then Sonic comes onto the island and his plane breaks down and tails fixes it in secret, but then he's like discovered by sonic and whatnot. {We need sonic borrower fanfiction!} This could also create a new reason to why his parents aren't in the picture they got...discovered and that left his on his own, leaving him a traumatized 8-year-old boi. <--- (In Progress!)

#headcanons #ideas #fanfic ideas #simple ideas #if you want to use any of these knock yourself out <3 #i only ask that you let me know when so I can see! #i dunno #fluffy fox boi <3 #i love him so much

[oops-prow-did-it-again]

Ikoria: Lair of Behemoths - Sundered Bond Summary

I have immense brainworms and I feel like nobody has read this book and everyone keeps saying untrue things about Lukka and I am going to go feral. So instead of doing that I'm going to just post a summary of the book bc I have nothing better to be doing and I read it like 2 days ago so it's very fresh in my mind

Overview

Lukka is a Captain of a squad of Coppercoat Specials, the most elite of Drannith’s military forces, and has been for the last 2 years of his life. After 20 years in service for Drannith, the soldier of one of only a few sanctuaries to have remained permanently standing in Ikoria becomes involuntarily bonded with one of the monsters that calls Ikoria home, and he’s forced to abandon everything he’s ever known, lest General Kudro—chief-of-command in Drannith and father of his fiancée—execute him out of fear of his “bonding sickness” destroying Drannith from the inside out.

[More under the cut...]

Characters & Names

Lukka—a human man somewhere between 40-50 years old who has been in the Coppercoats for over half of his life, and in the Specials for at least 2 years of it. He lead a team consisting of 4 others (Epha (sergeant and trapper), Nik (sniper), Gedra and Gox (twins that serve as trappers/hunters)). He was engaged to Jirina, daughter of General Kudro, and thought very highly of her.

Jirina—Lukka’s fiancée. A brown-skinned, dark-haired human woman that has a unique position in Drannith’s military due to her modest status in the Coppercoats, yet also is the daughter of General Kudro. She respects her father deeply but fears his authority too.

General Kudro—Lukka’s would-be father-in-law and Jirina’s father, the seasoned chief-of-command in Drannith. His position in power is very much based on authority and how well people believe in his authority, and he knows it. He listens closely to the reputations his people and the Coppercoats hold amongst commoners, for he knows a quiet drone can become an insurmountable roar fast enough. He is not afraid of resorting to underhanded tactics to “maintaining the peace,” either, and believes bonding magic to be a sickness, having kept it hidden from much of Drannith, despite researchers being aware of it for some time prior to Lukka’s bond.

Vivien Reid—A planeswalker that was staying on the plane, visiting to explore its strange magic and unusual crystalline formations. She admits to Lukka that she helps him out of curiosity, and in hopes he can teach her more about Ikoria, as she passes through in search of a place yet still to call home. She finds the way of life Lukka is used to in Drannith very odd and uncomfortable (the kill-or-be-killed mentality).

Winged Cat—Lukka’s involuntarily bonded cat-clade monster, a great, winged tiger, which goes unnamed throughout the story.

Brin & Rol—A bonder and her bonded monster that Vivien and Lukka befriend through the course of the story. Brin is a pale-skinned teenage girl with pink, wild and spiky hair, leather and homespun clothing, and a tuft of pink fur strewn over her shoulders. Rol (short for Roland) is a raccoon-like monster with pink fur and a round body, about the size of a horse.

Mzed, Dogsbreath, Nightshade, Toothcracker, & Sedra —Hunters that General Kudro hired to track down Lukka so he could be returned to Drannith as a prisoner. They are generally unruly, banter often, and rude to one another and to Jirina (whomst is forced to join them in their mission). Dogsbreath wears a mask resembling a dog, Nightshade specializes in poisons, Toothcracker is very physical and confrontational, and Sedra is known for being a bit… well, crazy.

Captain Falk—A man from the sanctuary of Skysail that the Hunters hire to take them to the Ozolith to catch up better with Lukka via a skyship called the Vermillion. 

Abda (AKA “Spiky”) & Rigi—A bonder and her bonded monster that Vivien and Lukka befriend through the course of the story. Abda is dressed in leather and homespun, a brown jacket with a white shirt beneath, and carries a long spear with a double-point. She has dark brown hair done up into spikes. Her monster, Rigi, is a squat, badger-like monster with brown fur that fades to white on its belly, tusks that protrude from its lower jaw, and black thorns that cover its back and shoulders, which extend down to its brow and cheeks. 

Barrow & Zeph—A bonder and his bonded monster that Vivien and Lukka befriend through the course of the story. Barrow is dressed in gray armor with white furs layered over the top, his hair white and swept back aside from two prominent spikes of hair at the forefront of his head (Lukka describes them as “horns”). Zeph is a cat-clade monster twice the size of Lukka’s winged cat, with a wild mane of white hair, and a body resembling a white tiger. It has two ram-like horns and glowing yellow eyes, and holds some control over electricity.Colonel Bryd—A colonel whom Jirina has quarrels with throughout the story, usually to humorous effect. He briefly takes over as Chief-in-Command after Kudro’s death, but Jirina overrides his authority by simply ignoring him.

Events

Lukka is on a hunt for a monster that has been killing livestock with his Specials team, Epha, Nik, Gedra, and Gox. He finds a sheep whose brain has been carefully extracted in an almost surgical manner. 

They come up with a plan for Lukka to stand as bait (implied that he always does this) after traps are set up in the area, and some hours later, the nightmare returns and attacks. The traps work at first, but the monster breaks free and rushes Lukka. The rest of his squad save him, and they end off the day happy to have succeeded, believing that they all will now have 4 days off-duty to do whatever they wish. Lukka intends to spend it on quality time with his fiancée, Jirina.

A scene from Jirina’s POV shows that she has much more stress going on in her life as General Kudro’s daughter than she lets on. Lukka doesn’t pick up on it, and tries to get her in the mood for some fun. She tells him “not in the office,” and they leave after Lukka convinces her to let him go with her to her room to relax. 

Interesting to note that despite Lukka’s high status in the Coppercoats, he admits to only having a cramped, shitty cot to sleep in, whereas Jirina, as daughter of General Kudro, has a bed big enough to accommodate the two of them with room to spare and a room on a higher floor of the Citadel.

After only a day off, Lukka’s team is called in despite their promised 4 days off, because a winged cat-clade monster has taken residence in a farm within Drannith’s third circle - the second-most wall Drannith has (it has 4, the first two being fairly weak and the first one hardly a wall at all, whereas the last two are thicker, and the final wall is enormous and big enough for entire troops to walk together, with ballistae and the like mounted there). 

Even so, farms and such are often kept in the third circle, because Drannith is forced to make use of all its space within its territory.

The winged cat has been said to have slaughtered 10-20 Drannith soldiers already and nobody can oust it, which is why Lukka’s team has been called in.

At the farm, Lukka is afraid of going into any buildings or crops, for fear of the cat ambushing them. Instead, he tries to draw it out, and sends his team to start setting traps and to get into position. He sets out some bait that is supposed to be brand-new from Drannith’s researchers (implied to be a division of the Coppercoat military).

They wait for hours, and while they begin to think the cat may have slipped past them (and Lukka starts privately panicking and worrying about what would happen if the cat has snuck further into Drannith without their notice), the winged cat suddenly bursts from the barnhouse. All while Lukka is still trying to reach for a weapon to figure out how to push his own attack, the following happens:

It shatters the wooden wall nearest Gox and slashes his stomach open with its claws, disemboweling him. He bleeds out.

The winged cat then fought briefly with Gedra, outmaneuvering her and slamming her to the ground, then ripped her throat open. She bled out as well.

Lukka started barking orders to retreat, and while Nik tried to listen, the cat caught up to her and picked her up, taking flight with her in its mouth, and shook her so hard that her neck was broken.

Epha fled. The winged cat turned its attention to Lukka. He stayed behind, intending to sacrifice himself so Epha could survive, in hopes that Epha could live to tell others in Drannith about the severity of the creature they were dealing with as well as simply wanting her to live.

The winged cat advanced on Lukka, and he found himself thinking of Jirina and hoping Epha made it back before the cat was finished with him, but before anything could happen between them, a bolt of green energy fired between them and he was knocked unconscious.

Lukka awakens in Drannith in a private hospital bed, where Jirina comes to see him. She is discomforted by the presence of military personnel that are already interrogating him.

Lukka, none the wiser about what has happened, tells his questioners what has happened, and the personnel seem unusually satisfied and cagey about his answers. They leave to inform Kudro directly, telling Jirina that the general requested they give the report immediately, and that Jirina not be allowed to speak to him beforehand.

Jirina briefly speaks with Lukka and he recounts what happened. He asks why the cat didn’t kill him. Jirina, out of anxiety, posits that Nik’s bolt that she shot off before she was killed perhaps hurt it more than he thought. Lukka, not picking up on her anxiety, isn’t convinced.

Jirina leaves to speak with her father. Colonel Bryd keeps her out his office until the military personnel from earlier is done giving their report.

General Kudro, upon speaking with Jirina, tells her that he is saddened by the news of what has happened to Lukka and informs her of bonding magic, calling it a sickness, telling her that he fears Lukka has fallen victim to it, and that he can’t allow it to spread into Drannith. Though he doesn’t say it directly, Jirina picks up on the cues that he means to execute Lukka—and may very well already be on the way to do so.

Though she finishes the conversation with her father on amicable terms, Jirina decides that she can’t let her father do this, and that she must find a way to convince him otherwise. She leaves to help Lukka escape Drannith ASAP. 

Upon returning to Lukka’s room, she dismisses the doctors so she can speak to Lukka freely, calling upon her authority as the general’s daughter to do so. Lukka, starting to get worried, begs her to tell him what’s going on. She tells him and he’s dismayed, but agrees to leave and follow along with her plan.

She and Lukka devise a plan for him to leave despite the location being the heavily armed Citadel in the center of Drannith. She asks Lukka to pretend to have taken her hostage, to walk out while holding a knife against her throat, threatening them to kill her if they attempt to apprehend him; doing so will assure nobody will even attempt to touch him, as nobody will want to be responsible for the death of the General’s daughter.

Lukka is horrified by the plan, and hates every moment of it, as he finds Jirina’s acting very convincing (as he does his own), but the idea of waiting around to die scares him more.

Once on the fringes of Drannith, Lukka lets her go (where she assures him she will smooth everything over with her father, she’s sure of it, and they share a pleasant goodbye), and flees on his own from there. He uses his knowledge of paths designed for Coppercoat usage and backways to avoid confrontations until he is met with checkpoints and gates leading out of the city. 

Expecting the news of a rogue Coppercoats Specials captain to not have reached so far already, Lukka tries to bluff his way through the security of a gate that is rarely used, but they catch on anyway. He refuses to fight back, even when they threaten him, because he can’t stomach the thought of killing “teenagers and soon-to-be retired old men for following their orders.”

Vivien surprises him by saving him, shooting her bow and throwing an animal spirit to distract the guards, giving herself and Lukka the opportunity to flee.

While all of this is going down, Jirina has returned to her father in Drannith, revealing that she is alive and unharmed (but not telling her father that it was a facade, of course). He tells her that Lukka cannot be allowed to simply run free, for letting such intimate knowledge of Drannith run away with someone who bonds with monsters is unacceptable. He tells Jirina he has hired Hunters—mercenaries of sorts, but for monsters—to hunt Lukka down and bring him back to Drannith, because if he sends Coppercoats after Lukka, the news will be all over Drannith, and he wants to keep the situation on the down-low. He instructs Jirina to go with these Hunters, as she knows Jirina best. Jirina goes to object, but Kudro tells her that she will do it if she is still loyal to Drannith, forcing her to do so or imply that she is no longer loyal to Drannith. She believes that once she and the Hunters retrieve Lukka, she can still convince her father to change his mind, but she does secretly begin to wonder if something may be seriously wrong with Lukka due to her father’s paranoia.

It’s some hours after Vivien aids Lukka that Lukka and Vivien have finally made it fully out of Drannith, and Vivien has set up a modest camp for them. Lukka finally gets a chance to reflect on what all has happened that day. He asks Vivien why she aided him, and she claims that she felt the burst of magic that came from him and the winged cat. She came to search for it, and was surprised to find it coming to her, and decided to intervene so she could learn more about him, admitting that her goal is mainly sating her own curiosity.

Lukka is a bit less than enthused that his only friend is now a woman that wants him as something of a specimen, but he’s willing to take all the help he can get, so he thanks her.

Lukka says that he needs to slay the winged cat so he can return home, to Drannith, wanting nothing to do with it, given how its ruined his life. Vivien reluctantly agrees to lead him to the cat, telling him she can magically sense its location, to an extent. 

He tells her that before they get too far beyond Drannith’s walls, he will need to stop by an outpost to restock on his own gear. He hopes that, given how far out the farthest outposts are, the news of his rogue nature won’t have reached them and he’ll be able to merely flash his stature at them.

Vivien agrees and, to Lukka’s relief, it works.

When they find the cat again, Vivien and Lukka are being attacked by a nightmare-clade monster. The cat saves Lukka, and Lukka, confused and upset, demands to know why—’There it was. The thing that had ruined his life. He wanted to laugh and cry all at once. [...] “Why not kill me too?”’

Vivien informs him that he is bonded, which is when Lukka finally learns about bonding magic. He laments how he never wanted this and reasserts his hatred for what has happened, and how he just wants to go home, but he also tells Vivien that he sensed something through the cat. He sensed that the Ozolith, a crystalline formation far north of Drannith, was somehow speaking to the cat and was what had driven it to attack so violently; someone was driving monsters to destroy Drannith via the Ozolith. He also felt how the cat was scared and how despite its violence, it had hardly eaten during its stint near Drannith, and how it actually didn’t want to be that close to it or the ‘twolegs,’ as it called them.

Vivien and Lukka come to the agreement that they should go to the Ozolith to learn more of what’s happening there.

As this is going down, Jirina and the Hunters find them. Jirina tries to talk Lukka down, but the Hunters attack him ruthlessly, and the winged cat becomes enraged. Lukka becomes overwhelmed as the situation escalates; Jirina tells him that if he comes home, everything will work out, but he is afraid and not so sure, and Vivien fires off her bow, and then—the winged cat picks him up by his clothing and lifts him into the sky.

The cat picking him up shocks Lukka to his core. He is no longer thinking of killing the cat. He even willingly explores the bonding magic, briefly, to see if he can convince the cat to let him onto her back so he can be more comfortable (which it does). He uncomfortably finds himself considering whether he should name it or whether he should call it “‘it’ or ‘she,’” but shoves away the feelings by reminding himself that she slaughtered 3 of his squad. Despite this, he starts calling her she, and later, he strokes her fur and rests on her back, even falling asleep at one point.

Before reaching the Ozolith, during their travels, the winged cat suddenly dives, and they meet Brin & Rol. Shortly after, they meet Abda & Rigi and Barrow & Zeph as well, who all agree to travel to the Ozolith as well after Lukka explains the sensations he felt through the winged cat about the voice that spoke through the Ozolith (though, hardly for the same reasons; Abda and Barrow are barely motivated at first until Brin points out that the Coppercoats will harm monsters en masse if they’re being driven to attack Drannith, much to Lukka’s annoyance).

They fly on Lukka’s winged cat to the Ozolith together. During this, while stopping to rest at one point, Vivien tells Lukka the story of how she lost her homeplane and how she is a Planeswalker, and about Nicol Bolas. Lukka is disturbed and refuses to let that happen to him.

At the Ozolith, they find nightmare-clade monsters guarding it. The bonders and Vivien agree to hold them off while Lukka swoops in and tries to interface with the Ozolith, to figure out what’s going on.

However, while this is going down, all hell breaks loose. The same Hunters from before, as well as Jirina, arrive via a skyship they rented from Skysail. It becomes a three-way brawl at the Ozolith, with Lukka and his allies, the Hunters, and the nightmare creatures all opposing each other.

Lukka touches the Ozolith and is overwhelmed with power by it. He speaks to an unnamed, unknown planeswalker through it. While in some sort of mental space where he can hear this planeswalker but not see them, he watches the raging battle as if from above. The planeswalker presses Lukka to accept the Ozolith’s power as his own, while Lukka rejects their proposals at first out of distrust (but admits that he just wants to go home and wants this to be over). The planeswalker has him watch Abda get shot with a ballista bolt from the skyship overhead, and after that, Lukka relents, allowing the planeswalker to grant him the powers of the Ozolith.

Lukka is returned to the battle and he lashes out with power via the Ozolith, gaining control of all of the nightmare-clade monsters as well as Rigi. His controlled monsters brutally kill most of the Hunters, and he even succeeds in downing their skyship. He only notices at the last minute that Jirina is still among them, in the vessel, as it plummets.

In the aftermath of the battle, Lukka is confronted by the bonders and Vivien, who are unhappy with how he forced the nightmare monsters to attack in such ways that they often killed themselves or gave themselves lifelong injuries (Rigi also died in the course of the battle). Lukka is shocked at their response, given how he believed he had just saved their lives, and is already thinking of how he can use his newfound abilities to protect Drannith and prove his loyalties to General Kudro in a whole new way. He and the others argue briefly, before Lukka loses his patience with them, and attempts to seize control of their bonded monsters anyway.

He’s unable to, and a fight breaks out again. Vivien berates him, telling him that she thought he was a good man, but she sees now that she was wrong; Lukka lashes out at her anyway, and she fires off a shot that produces a ghostly elk. It charges him and while he scuffles with it, Vivien and the other bonders escape.

Lukka lets them leave, no longer interested. He gathers control of the remaining nightmare monsters once more, calling them his “army,” and starts to plan his next moves to return home to Drannith. He also decides to scour the surrounding area first, however, in search of Jirina, because he isn’t sure what happened to her after the battle.

Unknown to Lukka, his winged cat—in the chaos—caught Jirina as the skyship fell from the sky. It then carried her back to Drannith, where it dropped her off at its innermost wall. Jirina managed to beg people to capture it and not kill it, but her arrival on the back of a monster, and then subsequent request, caused rumors throughout the city that Jirina has become a traitor to humanity. Kudro, out of fear of otherwise needing to oust or execute his own daughter, plans a public display where Jirina is slated to execute the winged cat, so the townspeople of Drannith may see where her loyalties truly lie.

Jirina realizes the tenuous position she’s in, but hopes that her father will be reasonable when he sees how truly unwilling she is to do it. She refuses. Kudro is not reasonable; angry and sad, he has Colonel Bryd take her away, and he slays the winged cat, much to Jirina’s dismay.

Jirina essentially becomes a prisoner in her own home after that point, unable to leave or do anything freely as she pleases.

Back with Lukka, he watches, through his bond with the winged cat, the public execution of the winged cat by Kudro. He realizes that the winged cat saved Jirina, all because it realized she was important to him, without him having had to ask, and he’s overcome with emotion. For a long moment, he sits silently, crying, before he gets up and furiously starts to reach further and further with the power of the Ozolith, gathering yet even more monsters for his “army.”

Lukka is desperate to go home and to return to Jirina, and has realized that if Kudro won’t let him by taking things out, then Kudro will kill him, and he refuses to let death be his only option forward. He starts to march his army towards Drannith.

Kudro amasses Coppercoat forces, and takes Jirina under the close eyes of guards, to meet Lukka and his army in the field after they spot him some distance away from Drannith, approaching. Kudro believes that they will not survive if they allow Lukka to meet their walls, but Jirina recognizes that fighting him in the field will cost an untold number of Coppercoat lives. Kudro later surprises her by revealing that Lukka has asked for a parley, and that he intends for Jirina to play an important role in it: she will assassinate Lukka. He gives her a dagger to keep in her pocket. Do this, and her name will be cleared, and she will no longer be a prisoner.

Even so, Jirina doesn’t want to kill Lukka and doesn’t intend to during the parley.

Lukka attempts to talk to General Kudro and Jirina during their parley. It’s hardly under peaceful terms; the parley occurs on an island in the middle of a raging river, and Kudro has ballistae mounted facing it. Lukka has a single monster facing the island from the opposing side of the river, or so it seems at first.

Lukka explains his idea of using monsters to guard Drannith instead of Coppercoats, explaining how humans need not die anymore in place of monsters. Let them die instead. Kudro, of course, is unbudging in his position on the matter and still thinks of Lukka as “sickened.” Jirina tries to pull Lukka aside and speak to him alone, telling him that this idea will never be accepted in Drannith; she begs him to give it up and simply come back.

Lukka is frustrated, because the way he sees it, if he “gives up,” he will be killed. He doesn’t believe Jirina can convince Kudro of anything.

Lukka comes to the conclusion that Kudro will have to leave the picture, seeing him as all that is keeping him away from his fiancee and home.

The parley starts to go awry. Lukka viciously denies Jirina and Kudro’s terms. Kudro tells Lukka off.

Lukka reveals that he was prepared for this eventuality on his own when monsters start bursting from the earth and the trees, disabling the ballistae and killing Coppercoats. In his fit of rage, he kills Kudro, and then turns to Jirina, babbling about how they can now have a life together—

…And Jirina swipes that dagger for him. She misses, only cutting his face in the process.

Furious and heartbroken, Lukka throws her into the raging river, snarling at her that she can die with the rest of the “traitors,” then—completing his arc of turning into the very monster Kudro was trying to prevent him from becoming.

Jirina escapes the river later, barely alive, and is confronted by monsters. Vivien and the other bonders that previously argued with Lukka save her and take her back to Drannith, where she asserts herself as chief of command despite the authority supposing to have gone to Colonel Bryd.

Lukka marches his monsters on Drannith, intending to force them to let him stay, or to drive everyone who fights him out so he can stay in their place. Jirina, however, has prepared Drannith by the time he arrives, and though there are hundreds and hundreds of casualties and plenty of damage, the city’s great walls hold. Jirina manages to get close to Lukka again and demands to know why he’s doing this, asking him if he really thinks he can just “come back” after this. He tells her that he intends to force them, that he’s not asking anymore. Jirina comments that he really has gone insane, and when Lukka goes to have monsters attack her again, the other bonders once again jump to her defense.

Lukka, once again, tries to seize control of the bonded monsters, as his army is spread thin at this point in the battle and no others are close enough to save him from the coming onslaught from Vivien and the bonders. The unknown planeswalker residing in the Ozolith warns him that if he does this, he won’t like what happens—but Lukka does it anyway, pulling more and more power from the Ozolith, until the great crystal shatters and explodes.

Pain floods his body and his army of monsters scream in agony as a reflection of his own. Fiery sensations course through him, as his spark ignites, and he internally laments how he just wanted to go home, just wanted to be with Jirina again. Then, he finally planeswalks away.

He awakes elsewhere, in a swamp, where three canid creatures take interest in him. He notes that he feels mentally fragile, like if he “shook his head too hard, it might break,” (or something along those lines), but despite that, he instinctively attempts to reach out to control the animals ahead of him. He controls one, which fights the others off. 

Grateful he has some power left, Lukka vows to go home, even though he knows that’s completely impossible, both literally and figuratively, showing that he has lost it completely at this point. And that’s where the story ends.

#mtg #lukka #vivien reid #ikoria #magic the gathering #magic: the gathering #sundered bond #ikoria: lair of behemoths #ikoria: lair of behemoths - sundered bond