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#nothing makes them madder than not getting a response and be able to trick people into sharing their ideas for them
dont-doubt-dopple · 6 years
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How You Fell In Love With Me - Chapter 3
A/N: Hey, look, I’m not dead! And neither is this story. Just, the original idea got changed. Drastically. It’s just, I’m a lot less comfortable writing Brohm and I know people are a lot less comfortable reading it as well. Just know that if you came for Brohm, I’m not so sure how much Brohm is going to be in this story anymore. So I’ve changed the plan in my head and I am more excited to write this. Oh, I’m going to break some hearts this time around. The angst is rubbing of on me, IM SORRY. The discord with the angst Nights is rubbing off on me. Enjoy. I’m also introducing BOLD text into the equation. So, as not to get confused:
Normal text=Real World
Italic Text=Bryce’s Story world
Bold Text=Flashback sequence
WARNING: This chapter contains very homophobic sequences, including the use of the slur f****t. Tread with caution.
~•~
Chapter 3 - Faces to Names
“They always like this?” I asked, watching the scene of chaos and bloody murder in front of me. Otherwise know as Mario Kart.
"Yeah." Delirious assured me. "You get used to them." I looked around the living room at all the men screaming their heads off over a game. For people that were in a gang, they seemed like one huge family. They had inside jokes and traditions and the ability to be themselves. I was just some outsider looking in.
“Fuck off you sweaty nerd.” One if the guys exclaimed, his words laced with an Irish accent.
“Sorry.” Another one giggled in response. His words also had the slightest touch of an Irish accent, but not as much as the other guy.
“Moo hasn’t said anything in a while.” Mini commented, the only of the mess of bodies I actually knew. The guy who I assumed was Moo spoke off next.
“I’m winning.” He explained, before becoming silent once more. That being soon interrupted by a Control slamming to the ground.
“9. Fucking. Boomerangs.” The man who slammed the controlled down said calmly, although extremely enraged. “In 2nd to last.” At moment, a red shell came up from behind him and hit his already still character. This caused his calm anger to turn into pure rage. “WHO DID THAT!!! WHICH ONE OF YOU WAS IS YOU FUCKING FAGGOTS!!”
I tensed up as always. Though it only got him madder. I knew the routine by now, so it wasn’t a surprise. I could picture the red on his face, smell the alcohol on his breath, hear the malice laced in his words.
“I won’t let some queer stand our level.” He growls. I close my eyes, not wanting to watch the enjoyment of all of this spread across his face like the madman he was.
“Bryce.” Del calls out to me, putting his hand on my shoulder. I step away on impulse. She should know better than to do that. She knows I don’t want a repeat of last time. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” I echoed back. I could feel the tears beginning to well up in my eyes. I rushed out the last part a little as I bolted. “I just need some fresh air.”
“Yeah. Run!” He screamed as I dashed away, tears streaming down my face and fresh bruises down my back. “I don’t want to see this poor excuse of a son in my house again.”
“Bryce.” I stopped, hand on the handle. My mom was standing there on the stairs. I could tell even if I didn’t turn around. “Come back when he’s sober. Your dad will change his mind.”
“He’s my father.” I spat, still enraged at him. It wasn’t fair to be unleashing it at my mother but all the pent up anger I’ve been restraining was coming out now and my brain had little time to filter. “To call him my dad would be to say he loved me. Clearly he doesn’t.” I glanced back at the man who helped bring me into this world. He was sunken back into the couch, yelling at some sports game on the TV.
“Just ...” Her voice faltered, as if the words in her tongue just couldn’t come out. “He’s the only dad you’ll ever have. Give him another chance.”
“I’ve given him too many to count. And if this is how he uses all of them, then I’d rather have no dad at all.” I didn’t stay to hear her response. I simply pulled the door open and left, standing on the stoop as it slammed behind me. I breathed.
And then I broke.
I collapsed, letting all the waterworks built up inside me flow down my face. I was attempting to cover my face with my hands, failing miserably. “He’s not here. He’s not here.” I kept muttering to myself, in a voice barely in a whisper. I curled into a ball then, letting my head fall into my knees.
“Hey.” I looked up to see an Asian guy staring at me with a kind smile. Slick black hair tossed to the side and an equally slick red jacket. He had kneeled down so he was at least closer to my level. “Anxiety?”
“More like PTSD.” I admitted. “Someone just ... said a slur accidentally and I got triggered.”
“Can’t say I relate.” He replied, sitting down next to me. “I’m Evan, by the way. Most of the guys will call me Vanoss, though.”
“So wait, your the ...” The Cat had finally got my tongue, but he seemed to know exactly what I was trying to say.
“Yeah. And that must make you the Bryce McQuaid Ohm has been telling me about. Incessantly.” Both of us laughed at this. I did wonder why Ohm would be preaching about me though. I haven’t really had a chance to talk to him that much. I didn’t voice this though. Maybe I’d get a one on one with Ohm later. “But the real question is, what was it that triggered you?”
“It was ...” I felt begin to choke, but I was at least able to push the first syllables out. “Fa ... Fa ...” Evan stopped me first though, holding his hand up to my face.
“I know what your trying to say. And that sounds like Tyler.” Jon said, sliding the rough draft back over to Mike. “Just email us a copy of the final thing later.”
“Sure thing.” Mike agreed, sliding the rough chapter into his bag. “Just promise me that you do not, under any circumstance, tell Bryce about this.”
“Really?”
“I’d have to agree with Mike on this.” Mark added. The group was in a local Starbucks, waiting for Bryce to exit the bathroom and Drac to get here. Mark had one of the single seats by Jon, while Mike sat on the loveseat. “Guy nearly had a full blown panic attack just giving me and Swag the first two chapters. Where is Drac, by the way?”
“He texted he was here like two minutes ago, but I don’t see him.” Mike pushed himself up using his arms, trying to see where his boyfriend was. He didn’t notice Jon rolling his eyes at Swag’s mention. “What’s taking Bryce so long in the bathroom, anyways?”
“No idea.” Jonathan said. “He’s been acting off since the day before yesterday. He was talking to Adam before, so I think it’s something he told him.”
“Oh god, that’s not good.” Mark commented, just as another guy hopped into the seat next to Mike.
“Sorry I’m late.” He apologized. “I had to work out some details with Ellie and John for a project. Who’s Adam?”
“The question I’m wondering is who are you?” Jonathan shot back. The guy, while subtlety slinging his arm across Mike, looked at Mark expectantly. The latter sighed.
“Jonathan, meet Swag Dracula. We usually call him Swag or Drac for short. Swag, Jon or H2O Delirious.” He introduced. Jonathan sat there, dumbfounded.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. H2O. Now back to my earlier question; who is this Adam guy?” Swag continued on. Jonathan was still in shock, the only movement indicating he was alive was the blinking of this eyes and the subtle rise and fall of his chest.
“You’re real.” He gasped softly, leaning back into his chair.
“Yeah he’s real.” Mike answered, planting a quick kiss on Swag’s cheek. “And Adam is basically the Cheryl Blossom of the campus. If you want a secret to stay a secret, you better pray to whatever deity you believe in that Adam doesn’t find out. If there’s trouble, there’s a 85% chance that Adam was the catalyst. He’s the one person that no matter what, you do not trust him.”
“Got it.” Swag said. “Now, are we getting drinks yet or ...”
“I’ll see what’s taking Bryce so long in the bathroom.” Mike volunteered, rising from his seat. He rolled his eyes as he passed Jonathan, who he saw mouth to Mark ‘He’s actually real?’ He headed to the back by the restrooms only to run into Bryce.
“Hey, You okay?” Mike asked upon seeing his friend. His blond hair was disheveled, and his eyes were red and puffy. He was quiet and when Mike cupped his cheek he could feel it was wet. “That’s a stupid question. Of course you’re not okay. What’s troubling you?”
“Nothing.” Bryce choked out, avoiding making eye contact with Mike.
“Bryce ...” Bryce grabbed Mike, pulling him into the restroom. “What ..?”
“Adam said ...” The blond paused, as if making sure nobody heard their conversation. “Adam said Ryan has a crush on Luke. He’s only ever see me as a friend.”
“Hey, this is Adam we’re talking about. He could be just stirring up trouble.”
“He may be a troublemaker, but he’s a reputable troublemaker. When is the last time Montoya was wrong?” This seemed to do the trick in shutting Mike up. “Exactly. Just ... don’t tell anyone. Okay?” Mike nodded, and was about to nod when Bryce grabbed his hand again. “And try not to intervene. Please?”
“I’ll do my best.” He replied, which seemed to satisfy Bryce enough. The two left the bathroom with uneasy thoughts and began to rejoin their friends. They were talking in hushed tones, like they didn’t want to risk anyone else hearing their secrets. Though a simple question lingered in Mike’s mind. Even with the coffee and knowledge of a nearly School wide bet (“We didn’t think Dracula was real. We were just wondering which one of you guys would crack first.”), it still lingered.
Was this accidental intervention really a good thing?
“Mike, sweetie, you okay?” Swag asked softly as Bryce, Jon, and Mark were laughing about something. Mike nodded, squeezing Drac’s arm in reassurance.
“I’ll tell you later.” He said.
“About Bryce?” Mike nodded. “Okay.” He leaned his head so it rested on Drac’s shoulder. Mike didn’t let go of Swag’s arm nor did either release their hands that were intertwined with each other.
“I love you.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less.”
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cuddlywritesthings · 4 years
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Midnight Drink
Genre: World of Warcraft
Characters: Taviast Duskwither, Guntharius Plaguespitter
Characters mentioned: Ghelror Ebonfang, Crescida Evenfall (not my character)
Timeline: BFA, shortly after Saurfang’s death.
Trigger warnings: Strong language, alcohol mentioning
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“I thought I might find you here.”
Taviast Duskwither reluctantly pulled his attention away from his glass of wine. He looked up at the unannounced guest of his, and he couldn’t help but let a weary frown tug at the corners of his mouth.
He had retreated to his personal study for further research on their next potential target. They had plenty to choose from, of course. Azeroth was rife with conflict from both sides, but it seemed the warring factions could not come together and eliminate the more worrisome targets-- those who posed a real threat to everyone, factions be damned.
The foreboding castle that The Circle called headquarters had been long since evacuated by whatever clan, or family or even cult had used it. It had been repurposed by a certain warlock, and had become the group’s main source of sanctuary.
It was late into the night, and after dinner everyone had made their way to their individual rooms. Taviast thought he was the only soul awake, but he always seemed to forget about--
“Dr. Guntharius Plaguespitter.”
“Just doctor is fine. Or Dr. Plaguespitter, if you want to sound snooty and annoying.” The Forsaken stood in the doorway of Taviast’s private studies, his hand raised and fingers trailing along the intricate stonework with a sense of reserved reverence. “You elves, having to be so formal about every fucking thing.”
“Notwithstanding the roots of my heritage,” Taviast calmly replied, with just the slightest hint of amusement lacing his words, “I do try to remain proper and display the decorum expected of me when addressing people. It stems from my time spent as a Magister for the state of Quel’thalas. Decorum comes as naturally as breathing, good sir.”  
Letting out a derisive snort, the Forsaken made his way further into the studies. Despite the elf’s sharp sense of hearing (and, no, it wasn’t a joke about their pointed ears), the necrotic doctor, steeped in the energies of the fel, made naught a sound as he approached.
“Alcohol.”
“Mmm?” Tavast blinked a moment in confusion before it dawned on him what the ‘good doctor’ meant by that. Guntharius was good for that. Liked to start conversations abruptly, with a single word, or topic, thrown out there on a whim. “Ah, yes, well,” he lifted up his glass in the vague gesture of toasting the warlock, “must finish the bottle before it goes bad, hmm?”
“You always were an alcoholic.”
A fair bit confused, the Archmage quirked an eyebrow. “I… beg your pardon?”
“It’s true.”
“I must refute this claim of yours. I am not--”
“In denial,” snapped the Forsaken, cutting the elf off at the pass by refusing to let him finish his own sentence. “Covering up your anxieties, doubts and fears by taking the edge off. The edge of this life and this world, all of your responsibilities and guilt, and all that blood on your pretty little hands.” The Forsaken’s one glowing eye seemed a bit brighter than before. His sharp, yet somehow still handsome features were hardened; as resolute and emotionless as a stone fortress. “Blurring the lines of your stress until you can no longer recognize them.”
Unsettling as the tension in the air was, Taviast remained calm. Even as the warlock placed his hands (soundlessly, always soundlessly! He moved, like a giest!) on the table, the ex-Magister, now Archmage, made no move and no sound as to betray his surge of anxious nervousness.
“And you,” Taviast began pleasantly, tone airy and delicate, “have always been good at analyzing others, especially when it comes to one’s health or their unhealthy habits. And that,” he made a subtle gesture with his raised glass, further putting emphasis on his words, “makes you an excellent doctor.”
“Your flattery is not going to change the subject.”
“Ah, yes. And how could I possibly forget your stubborn bullheadedness?”
“Obsession to details,” the Forsaken cut in, offering the Archmage a humored smile (such ghastly pointed teeth!). “Call it as it is.”
“Fair enough.”
A minute passed, and the awkward silence settled about them like a lumbering, intrusive beast. The Archmage stared at the deadman before him, and the warlock spent his time clearly studying the exhausted elf, sitting down at a table, surrounded by piles of books, and scrolls and half finished documents. Oh, and nearly an empty bottle of wine. Can’t forget that.
“Dr. Gunth--”
“Plaguespitter,” the Forsaken hissed out, slightly annoyed.
“Dr. Plaguespitter,” Taviast cordially replied, rectifying his quite common mistake. “Please, tell me-- what can I do for you?”
The Forsaken was not known for any sort of expressive nature. He built walls up to keep the world from identifying what it was he was feeling. And, yes, by far, he could feel. He could feel quite well. Most Forsaken felt nothing. They were numbed to the world and to the world’s tragedies. Some felt grief, or rage, or some other caustic type of emotional taint. They were like walking geists made manifest; stuck in a walking routine, trapped in a haunt, unable to release themselves from the residual episode.
But Guntharius felt. Guntharius could feel more than just rage and grief, confusion and madness. He felt more than what the others felt. But that alone helped drive him mad. Far madder, perhaps, than many of the other warlocks within the Black Harvest. He felt, he remembered emotions. And, as a result, he became passionate when it came to believing in things. Rage and frustration were, indeed, common emotional responses with him. But those only occurred due to how much he cared, and how much he wanted to help. How, oh, how he wanted to be human again. To find the cure for undeath. To be able to taste things properly again, and to stop being so cold. He wanted to feel. He wanted to express himself fully again.
Despite his well known flaw in the department of expressing himself (often far too caught up in his emotions to properly handle them), he was rarely ever prompt in admitting his feelings verbally. And so, as the Archmage posed his question, he would have never expected such a confident reply from the deadman.
“I’m worried about you.”
“--me?” The Archmage made a motion to push back his chair and rise to his feet, but halted his actions upon seeing the subtle hand gestures, offered up by his coworker and comrade. “Whatever for?”
“Don’t play dumb,” softly hissed the warlock.
“I can assure you, I never play ‘dumb’.”
The Forsaken gave him a rather deadpan look and, in a dry, sardonic tone, drawled out, “and all those times you pretended to be an oblivious old fool in order to trick guards into--”
“That’s not the same thing!”
“Of course it isn’t.”
Taviast Duskwither gave a great, weary sigh as the Forsaken sat down across from him. He had stolen away to his personal study room in order to get some peace and quiet. He felt safe in this room. It reminded him of his home. He had decorated the walls with scrolls and baubles of magicry. Here and there crystals peppered shelves weighed down by tomes and ancient books of magical lore. It was his personal study room and library in one. He spent many a night toiling away before drawn our charts, graphs and maps, hoping to produce a foolproof mission plan.
After all… he lead this group of rebels. He was the first member and soul founder of The Circle. And he had an oath to upkeep. Sleep be damned! The welfare of his soldiers were of top priority.
“You’re trying to deflect me.”
Wagging a finger at the warlock, the Archmage coyly replied, “ah, ah, ah! But I’m not the one who brought up my previous roles for past Circle endeavors.”
Guntharius quietly hissed as he bared his unusually sharp teeth (even by standards for typical Forsaken) at the elf. “Smartass.”
“Aren’t most elves?”
Smarmy and smug, Taviast felt he had won that round of wit against the ‘good doctor’. Guntharius was known for his cunning brilliance and his silver tongue. But getting a one-up on him always felt good, even though it was incredibly rare to do so.
Feeling proud of himself, Taviast raised the wine glass to take a well deserved swig of mulled wine when he felt his actions halted by a cold hand. The warlock was not wearing gloves tonight-- his attire for when he didn’t have any missions, and was merely living about in his castle-- and, as such, he felt his hand, unhindered. It was the cold grip of death itself, ready to take him.
Shivering from the contact, Taviast opened his mouth to protest. Anything he wanted to say died in his throat, withered and dry, upon seeing the Forsaken’s unmistakably concerned expression.
“Stop deflecting with humor,” Guntharius uncharacteristically murmured. His hand-- wrapped around Taviast’s slender wrist-- squeezed ever so slightly. It wasn’t a hostile sense of pressure but, rather, a reassuring one. A comforting one. “Stop. For once in your long-lived life, stop.”
A wedge formed itself in the Archmage’s throat, and he found himself willingly lowering the glass of wine. His chest felt tight.
“I don’t unders--”
“Of course you wouldn’t. And of course you don’t.” Guntharius released the Archmage’s wrist, freeing him from his entrapment. “But you’ve always been in denial about everything. In denial that you need to talk to someone, instead of busying yourself with work and the consumption of alcohol in hopes you’ll forget about your guilt.”
“I, I…” Grasping at metaphorical straws, the Archmage felt frustrated. “Alright. Plaguespitter, I understand you enjoy being cryptic about your messages and with your given advice, but I really don’t have the patience--”
“Saurfang.”
It struck him with the cracking reverberation of a whip. He swore he could hear it. The shattering of glass, the crumbling of an infrastructure. He felt that dagger twist deeper into his gut, and he inaudibly sucked in his breath. The air was suddenly so thin to him, and it burned his lungs to take in oxygen.
Varok Saurfang. The noble, honrable Orc who, quite possibly, could have led the Horde into an era of peace. The brave warrior who stood up to challenge their tyrannous Warchief, in hopes to dismantle her psychotically twisted regime and to further spur on the true spirit of a united Horde.
And he fell.
He had fallen by her darkness, her sinister corruption. Around The Circle, there had been in depth discussions as to what it was their ‘Warchief’ had used in order to slay the proud soldier. Some spoke of a darkness, greater than the void. Some warned it, quite possibly, stemmed from the energies of the fel, of warlock magic. Some declared she had soul her soul to a demon, and had become a corrupted dreadlord. And a few whispered fears that the old ones were involved-- The Old Gods themselves.
Whatever it was, and whatever the case, it had become quite clear what her intentions were. And it had been quite a devastating blow to lose such an honorable Orc as that; one who could have lead them to something better, something grander.
It didn’t sting as much as losing Vol’jin, but, by the Gods, Taviast mourned the Orc.
“A...Ah,” Taviast shakily replied, realizing that a good minute or two had passed, and he had been sitting there, in absolute silence, staring at the pale warlock. “I, I… I mean, his passing is a great loss for…. For, for everyone…”
“Stop lying.”
“I speak the truth,” Taviast nearly shouted as he abruptly rose from his chair, slamming his hands down on the table out of frustration. “His passing-- his death-- was a blow to the Horde’s morale! He could have lead us to peace! Helped us better enhance the… the, the Horde with…”
Suddenly weary, Taviast sank back down to his seat. Another sigh escaped him but, unlike before, this one was heavy with exhaustion.
Guntharius calmly watched him, like some plagued, undead feline staring at something it found utterly and sensibly fascinating.
“...Are you done?”
“Quite,” Taviast softly murmured. He reached for his glass and, upon consideration, snatched up the entire bottle. Taking a hearty swig from that, he waved Guntharius on, allowing the warlock to speak, if he so desired to.
In which he desired to. Oh, yes, he very much desired to.
“Don’t think I’m a fool. Don’t take my allegiance and loyalty with the Alliance as proof that I don’t care about the Horde and everything that goes on within it. I am not human anymore,” he hissed with some bitterness, “but I am Forsaken. As such, I have to care about this Horde, the races within it, and I have grown to… to like some of the people here. Including,” he snatched the bottle from Taviast before the elf could drown himself in booze, “Saurfang.”
Making a half-hearted gesture as to grab the bottle back, Taviast quickly gave up. “Surprisingly touchy-feely for a Forsaken.” He winced, visibly, upon realizing what he had just said. “My apologies,” he quickly sputtered. “I didn’t mean for that to come out so--”
Waving the elf’s apology aside, the Forsaken nonchalantly shrugged. “You’re speaking the truth about my kind, and about me. Why apologize for what’s on your mind? Like I always say,” he leaned forward a bit, staring the elf down with a hardened gaze, “speak your goddamn mind.”
A nervous chuckle dancing on his breath, Taviast leaned back in his chair, relaxing a little. “Sound advice.”
“You said I’m good at being a doctor. At me analyzing my ‘patients’, figuring out what’s good and healthy for them, and what is not.” Tapping the wooden table with a single finger, he sneered. “Keeping in your negative thoughts can lead to bad health.”
Furrowing his brow, Taviast gave him a puzzled stare.
“...negative thoughts. Keeping them in. Can lower one’s immune system by causing onset depressive moods, and-- feldammit, Duskwither.” Gesturing wildly, the doctor grew increasingly frustrated. “Do I have to spell it out for you? Fucking talk to me.”
“Talk--”
In a sharp, almost vindictive gesture, the warlock gestured at himself with both of his hands. “Ther-a-pist,”
“We already know one. He’s helped members of The Circle already. One Mr. Dreamwe--”
Letting out an exasperated groan, Guntharius had to stop himself from lunging across the table, grabbing the elf’s head, and slamming it down on the table in a rather undignified, and painful, facepalm. It’d be a facetable, of course-- quite potentially the first of its kind. But he thankfully restrained his own surge of negative emotions, swallowing them along with his need to slap this fool across the face.
“For right now,” Guntharius said through gritted teeth, “I… am… your… THER-A-PIST. Fucking talk to me. And talk about what is on your mind. Treat me as if I am that tentacled magician from the void, and talk to me.”
Taviast understood. He understood now what Guntharius was doing for him, and he couldn’t help but feel another overwhelming wave of emotion wash over him.
“You,” the warlock continued, “have not been the same since confirmation of Saurfang’s death. And you were oddly quiet during Crescida’s speech.”
Ah, yes. Crescida Evenfall. Almost fitting to a point, the Night Elf monk raised her glass of wine and spoke before the convergence of The Circle. She gave an exceptionally grand speech, as inspiring as many generals and sergeants would before any army, and any battle. But instead of a speech filled with the zest and verve to conflict harm against one’s enemy, this one had been filled… with hope, and unity. As morale boosting as anything, she spoke the truth of the matter-- and this world-- all the while humbly honoring the life of Saurfang, now legend and true hero to the Horde.
During dinner and the speech, Taviast had remained strangely quiet and aloof. He had hardly spoken on behalf of the members or in memory of Saurfang. He had opted for a nod here or there, or the occasional hand gesture, in order to urge others to talk in his stead. He listened politely to Crescida’s words, but his attention had begun to drift towards the end. So much so that Ghelror Ebonfang-- sitting to the Archmage’s right-- had to gingerly nudge the elf in the arm, signaling that he, too, should join in with the boisterous round of applause.
“I was… being polite,” Taviast replied, his tone half hearted and weak.
“Of course you were. I’m not denying that. But you weren’t yourself. Your mind was elsewhere.”
“I--”
“I know you by now, Duskwither. I have stood on your left for far too long and have overseen many of your operations.” The warlock folded his hands in front of him, posture straight and austere. “I am your second-in-command, representing the Horde. I am to offset Archdruid Ebonfang. I have seen, and done, and performed so many tasks on your behalf. I have murdered, and tortured, and whittled information out of our enemies in order to do what must be right for this order you’ve created. I have even opened my home-- my safe haven, a place I can hide away from the Horde-- to you. To you, and your order.”
“And I thank you for that,” Taviast piped up, rather quickly, hoping to end the conversation. “I am ever so grateful for your hospitality.”
“I have looked after you all as you slept. I have walked the ramparts at night, keeping my gaze to the distant horizon. I am your shadow. I am your darkness. I am everything you wish you could expose to the world.” He narrowed his gaze, jaw tightening. “I kill when you cannot. I torture when your pathetic stomach cannot handle it. I soak my hands in the blood of our enemies when you can’t even so much as look at a twisted corpse.”
“I get it, I get it,” Taviast testily replied. “I’m fucked up in the head, hmm? Is that what you’re getting at here? That I secretly wish to take over the world and harm people, murder, en masse, in order to shape Azeroth as I see fit?”
A sly smirk spread across the Forsaken’s face. “Not quite what I was getting at,” the warlock teasingly replied, “but it’s amusing to imagine you going to the darkside. And, besides… lately you’ve been killing almost as much as me.”
The Archmage fell silent, and he cast the warlock a resentful look. His own golden eyes grew colder, and their glow seemed to darken.
“Excuse me? Are you suggesting--”
“The point is,” Guntharius interjected, “I know you better than anyone else. I know how much darkness you hold inside. And how much you hate yourself for things. How much you blame yourself for things that go wrong. Especially,” he pointed at the elf, “Saurfang’s death.”
Raising his hands up in a gesture of peace, the Archmage shook his head. “Now, now. Where on earth did you get such a peculiar and outlandish notion?”
“It’s not peculiar. And it’s not outlandish. It’s the feldammed truth.”
“I could not prevent Saurfang’s death. I had nothing to do with it.”
“And yet you still blame yourself.”
Taviast was ready for a rebuttal when the warlock stood up. He watched Plaguespitter walk about his studies, examining the shelves heavily burdened with their magical trinkets, and baubles and tomes. He watched as the warlock deftly plucked a thickly bound leather book from one particularly weathered shelf before proceeding to leaf through it’s aged pages.
“Before you try to come up with a reason as to why my logic is wrong, Duskwither… ask yourself, how many times have you mourned the passing of someone?”
“I--”
Snapping the book shut, the warlock sharply turned to face him. “Innocents. Horde, and Alliance alike. Allies. Friends. Leaders.”
“Well--”
“Vol’jin.”
Once more, a well placed imaginary blow struck him, and he felt himself reel from the force. He was grateful he was sitting, for had he been standing, he wasn’t sure he would be able to stay upright at all. The force of the grief, of those memories, were like a sickening tonic that poisoned him each and every time he brought it to the surface.
“Saurfang’s death,” Guntharius continued, “reminds you of the time we, as a Horde, lost Vol’jin.”
The truth. There it was. There was no denying it. The moment he heard of Saurfang’s death, Taviast remembered the Darkspear Troll who once had given him the hope that things could change. That peace could be achieved. That there needn't be any senseless wars and bloodshed. That all of this could have been avoided.
Garrosh Hellscream robbed the world of a chance at seeing peace. And it had set them back quite a bit, ruining alliances both within the Horde and without.
“Crescida’s speech made you think of Vol’jin.”
“Yes, and… and no,” Taviast confessed. “A little bit of it, I admit. But Saurfang can’t be compared to Vol’jin. Both were exceptional people, but incredibly different.”
“In some ways, yes. In some ways, no. Their ideologies may have varied to some degree but, for the most part, Duskwither, you have to admit… they were the same.”
Slumping a little in his seat, the Archmage sadly looked at a shelf. Anything but at the warlock. He let his gaze grow distant, and his focus became unclear. The world seemed a bit more fuzzier, and it wasn’t the wine talking.
“You’re an elf. You have a long lifespan.”
“And with our font of power restored, and the Sunwell purified… quite possibly immortal.”
“Things to consider, yes, yes.”
Taviast knew exactly where Guntharius was going with this. And he couldn’t help but think of everyone within The Circle. He knew what the doctor wanted him to speak about.
As the leader of The Circle, it was his duty to have the final say on who got sent out on various missions. He had to make the final note of approval on which targets to take out. He had so many lives on the line-- lives who were people. People who were friends. And these people who were loyal enough to follow him. He knew that the loss of lives happened with life, especially when war was involved. But he had bent himself over backwards in order to keep his order safe. So much so that he had magically exhausted himself more than once during a mission, keeping those accompanying him safe. He remembered one time waking up after being drug off to safety, only to have Guntharius himself leaning over him, shrieking about how foolish he had been, and how he had to save his ass by using a demonic portal, and some other egregious nonsense that had clearly pissed off the deadman.
“Everyone in The Circle… is family to you.” The necrotic doctor returned to his chair, settling down in it, the book he had been studying since abandoned.
“They are,” he admitted. ���Everyone. All of them. They are my family. And I can’t stand the thought of losing any of them.”
“I understand this,” the warlock replied, acknowledging his feelings, “more than you might believe. But, Taviast, the situation still stands. Like Saurfang, and Vol’jin… the time will come. And you, as our leader, will have to come to terms with that.”
“...and I refuse to.”
A little amused, the warlock sat back in his own chair, arms crossed against his thin chest. He let out a small huff of acknowledgement before posing a question. “What if Crescida fell?”
Taviast sharply looked up.
“Or Archdruid Ebonfang. Or Kippen. Or Raustul. Dreamweaver, Petalhoof, or my brother, Brevaar. What about Zinaji, or Tase? Wanja, the rest of the Sul’tusk? Or any of the other Trolls you’ve managed to befriend over time?”
“Died?”
“It will happen one day.”
“May. May happen.”
“Will.”  
“You pessimistic pest,” Taviast grumbled out.
“Part of the package of being Forsaken, peacock.”
Taviast knew that this was a bitter sort of medicine the ‘good doctor’ was prescribing him. But he had to admit… the warlock wasn’t that far off. His friend-- for lack of better terms-- was giving him a dose of medicine he sorely needed. Someone may-- no, will-- eventually fall. Someone will die during a mission of his. So far they have had close calls and closer scrapes. There had been some minor, major and severe injuries to be had. So far… they had been lucky.
That wouldn’t last forever. He knew that.
Archdruid Ebonfang was disabled now. He had lost his arm in a fight to an elite Dreadlord. And though it happened in an event that had not derived from one of The Circle’s missions or chosen targets, it had happened. And now the old Druid existed with a part of him gone, forevermore. Thankfully he could grow his arm back using nature magic-- a sort of nature-bound prosthetic-- and he could repair it, steadily, over time, if it ever got damaged… but it took a lot out of him. To maintain it, and to repair it as needed. And he could no longer feel with that arm. He had lost all sensation (save for the phantom pains that often wracked his body at night, when everyone else was asleep). He had also retained some general weakness. But that was to be expected. After all, bark could be strong, but it could also be brittle, and fragile, and very much a liability.
Ghelror had a lover. He had found a lover, and he had found a purpose in his life. He had found happiness. He had a life outside of The Circle. If only so many could be as blessed as such. Taviast knew only snatches of Ghelror’s history, but he knew that the elf was long lived and was very particular about who he surrounded himself with. He knew of his half-brother, Raustul Shadeshifter. And he knew that the guardian of the claw only occasionally visited The Circle’s headquarters, seeing as he was, mostly, a teacher to the younger, fledgling Druids of the order, and he helped look after orphans in his spare time (children who lost their parents, typically Druids or Shamans, to the war).
But all of this… in an instant, Ghelror had almost lost it all.
Taviast remembered meeting up with Ghelror, not too long after the incident. He remembered the stump where his arm was supposed to be. He remembered the wan, drawn expression on the already worn-down elf’s face. His slightly hunched over posture, body trembling with agony. How Ghelror refused to speak. How gaunt the Druid seemed then. But he remembered his eyes. Hard, gaze ancient and searching. His amber eyes hid the pain exceptionally well. Yes, his eyes hid the pain… but not the shame of it all.
Ghelror Ebonfang was just one example of a close call. A close call that got far too close for comfort. And Taviast had to admit to himself that sometimes, when he caught sight of the Archdruid in the halls of this downtrodden castle, he wondered who would be next. Who would next suffer a catastrophic blow? Who next would come back from a fight-- this never ending, damnable war-- scarred?
And who would come back, at all?
“And one day I just might lose grip with my soul,” Guntharius continued, noticing Taviast’s face had gone pallid, and his gaze had become distant. “Forsaken don’t last forever, Archmage. You, out of all of us, should know that.”
“I… I do.”
“Our minds go before our bodies. Our souls detach from our forms. We can go feral, mad, and utterly lose who we are. I will lose what makes me ‘me’. I will lose my mind, and I will no longer be myself. I will just be a rabid, feral thing. And the only action one can take against what I’ll become... is disposal.”
Taviast felt that great twisting sensation again, and he noted that the Forsaken had gently, almost lovingly, placed his cool hand over his. He took comfort in the sympathetic action, and he gave a weak smile at the warlock.
“I understand,” the elf murmured weakly.
“I’m not sure you do,” the warlock replied, perhaps a bit too testily, “but you seem to understand it a little bit better. Just consider: things will happen. And even if these people-- your family-- don't fall in battle, with your lifespan…”
The pain. It hurt.
“You need to stop feeling guilty for everyone’s pain and the deaths around you. I know you feel guilty when one of us comes back hurt, but it’s our own experiences and actions that lead to our injuries. Or,” he corrected himself, “the lack of experiences or actions taken. That too.”
“I… I know.”
“Vol’jin, and Saurfang. Let them go.”
“It’s just…”
“Future deaths. Future pain. Let it go.”
Taviast numbly nodded.
“What happens happens. You’re leading The Circle--”
“For now,” Taviast meekly responded.
“For… now,” Guntharius wavered, pausing only to shoot him a confused look. That quickly passed, however. “The point is,” he continued, “we are going to follow you. Anything you command us to do, we will do it. Anything you have plotted and planned out to be done, it will be done. And I will continue murdering and torturing in your name.”
“That… that doesn’t sound particularly pleasing to me,” Taviast groaned. “Completely killed the charming atmosphere you had going on there.”
“Completely my point.”
Rising to his feet, the warlock let his hand drift away from the Archmage’s. He reached out, as if to touch the elf’s cheek. The motion was tender, gentle. Almost loving. And it sent the Archmage’s heart into a nervous tick. And yet, seconds before his chilled fingers brushed against the old elf’s skin, he deftly made a snatching motion and took the bottle of booze instead.
“Hey!”
“No more drinking,” Guntharius drawled out. “It’s long past midnight, and you need proper sleep for once.”
“Is it truly that late?” Taviast looked around, as if unsure of his surroundings.
“No changing the subject. No drinking.” The warlock crooked a pale finger at Taviast, beckoning to follow. His tone was low and dark as he resolutely commanded, “bed. Now.”
A violently colored flush spread across Taviast’s cheeks. “I, I-- I, no-- you, wait-- what?”
Groaning, the Forsaken rolled his eyes. “Not my bed, you idiot. What, you think I’m going to take you to bed and see if my inactive libido still works? That my rotted genitalia might actually be functional? You think I’m attracted to you?” He sneered, cutting Taviast off before he could speak. “Elves! You’d think they’d be smarter with all those centuries under their belts, but, no! Naive bastards, the lot of them!”
“I can hear you, you know,” Taviast grumbled out as he cleared his throat.
“Bed.” He jerked his head towards the exit. “Now. Come on. I’ll help you get to your room. Make sure you don’t scamper off back here and try to work yourself to death, like the complete and utter fool you are. Or worse: drink yourself into oblivion.”
“Charming, as always, doctor.”
“Fucking elves.”  
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skinweareinblog · 5 years
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Beginner’s Guide to Freckle Removal Creams
It seems that over the past few years freckles have grown from being considered a flaw to becoming an ultimate trend. With plenty of tutorials on how to create faux freckles and even special face masks that help you get them, it is clear that today more and more people want to achieve that sun-kissed look. These people are oftentimes somewhat jealous of those who are blessed with natural freckles that require no effort.
But that doesn’t necessarily mean that so-called sunspots are always desirable by the redheads, the fair-skinned and others susceptible to freckles. If you can relate to this and know exactly what you want to look like without being influenced by trends, this article will definitely help you.
∼ The most effective freckle removal creams ∼
  Freckles are basically caused by sun exposure. Affected by the ultra-violet light, skin cells rapidly produce melanin, which in a way serves to protect our body from the sun damage. So obviously, avoiding direct sunlight or using sunscreen regularly can prevent the appearance of the dark spots.
There are also numerous ways to get rid of freckles once you already have them.
They vary from simple remedies to rather costly laser treatments. Here we will focus on ready-to-use products that are designed specifically for this purpose. We believe that the best approach is not to look for magical extracts but to stick to reliable and somewhat ‘boring’ ingredients: hydroquinone, retinoids, niacinamide, hydroxy acids and so on. This is what we were motivated by while comprising or list.
  Clinique ‘Even Better’ Clinical Dark Spot Corrector
Buy from Amazon at the price of $50
Yes, we deliberately started off with one of the most recognizable skincare brands out there. Products from Clinique have repeatedly proven to be able to deal with various skin conditions, and discoloration is no exception.
It contains no hydroquinone and relies mostly on plant-based ingredients, including turmeric extract and mulberry root. There is also vitamin E that will help replenish your skin.
The instructions advice to use the corrector twice a day. Although it is claimed to be safe to use for over a year, you might see the reduction of dark spots in several months.
  Porcelain Skin Whitening Serum
Buy from Amazon at the price of $28
If you and your skin are fed up with harsh chemicals that cause irritation, whether it is parabens, sulfates or other nasty stuff, Porcelain Skin Whitening Serum is the right choice for you.
Aside from natural botanicals, it has powerful active components, which are kojic acid and hydroquinone. They will make sure to stop the enzymes and amino acids from triggering too much melanin.
Glycolic acid will make your skin feel fresh and revived by removing dead skin, and licorice is the key ingredient that serves as a protection from redness and burning sensation.
  Paula’s Choice RESIST Triple-Action Dark Spot Eraser 2% BHA Gel
Buy from Amazon at the price of $29
Our favorite thing about this product and the entire Paula’s Choice line is that it’s safe not only for you, but for the animals, meaning it’s absolutely cruelty-free.
One of its active ingredients is 2% hydroquinone, a staple in skin discoloration treatment that will inhibit melanin pathway. And in order for that to be absorbed deeply into the skin, the eraser contains salicylic acid. It is known for pore-tightening and soothing properties that will even out your skin texture.
But antioxidants is the thing that really takes this gel to the next level. Not only you will have lighter and smoother skin, but you will also enjoy all benefits of anti-aging formula that will give you the glow from within.
  Admire My Skin 2% Hydroquinone Dark Spot Corrector
Buy from Amazon at the price of $23
This dark spot corrector’s effectiveness is equal to the products that require a prescription. It is so potent, that manufacturers recommend using it in cycles. That is to say, you have to make a 30-day break after continuous 60-day use.
There are much more active ingredients than in other products. The combination of both kojic acid and hydroquinone alone is enough to be convinced in that.
Containing azelaic acid, vitamin C and lactic acid, it will fade the freckles and make your skin squeaky clean (in a good way, of course).
  Organys Skin Brightening Cream
Buy from Amazon at the price of $16
The name of the brand speaks for itself – the company uses predominantly botanical ingredients that cause no irritation and damage. Apart from jojoba seed oil and yeast proteins, it has effective and non-toxic alpha arbutin that is turned into already familiar hydroquinone during the synthesis.
On the off chance you are not satisfied with this brightening cream, the company offers every customer full refund, so there’s totally nothing to lose, only to gain.
  Nadinola Skin Bleach for Dry Skin
Buy from Amazon  at the price of $19
Nadinola skin discoloration fade cream is suitable for people with dry skin. But if you have sensitive skin, you might want to opt for some other product, as this one does contain mineral oil and parabens.
Yet this fact is fully compensated by the cream’s ability to fight discoloration and excessive melanin production. The hydroquinone is paired with octyl salicylate that is the frequent component of sunscreens. If you use it daily, the positive change won’t be long in coming.
  Nadinola Skin Bleach for Oily Skin
Buy from Amazon at the price of $18
Nadinola has an alternative for oily skin, too. Here the properties of hydroquinone are enhanced with citric acid and 3% octisalate which provides your body with sun protection.
According to multiple reviews, this fade cream controls shine and leaves the skin silky smooth. Some people even like it a moisturizer, which, contrary to popular belief, oily skin is often in desperate need of!
  Murad Rapid Age Spot and Pigment Lightening Serum
Buy from Amazon at the price of $19
This lightening serum is a combination of two powerful ingredients that will brighten and gently exfoliate your skin: hydroquinone (2%) and glycolic acid. The latter accelerates the cell revitalization that causes dark spots to fade faster.
On top of that, it has components that boost the production of collagen, leaving your skin nourished and firmed up. That doesn’t mean that you should exclude sunscreen from your routine. On the contrary, using it additionally will only secure the results.
  ∼ Components that deal with freckles and hyperpigmentation ∼
  Before choosing a particular freckle removal cream, it’s nice to get some background knowledge to look into the components that actually do the trick. This information will make you armed to the teeth, you will be able to analyze the formulas and ingredient lists yourself and pick what is right for you even outside this list.
Hydroquinone blocks the key enzyme that is in charge of triggering melanin (pigment). It is one of the most effective components for skin bleaching and is often found in lightening products. However, the concentration of it has to be very low or else it will bring more harm than good. Bear in mind that it needs to be kept away from air and sunlight, stored in a tight container.
If you want something more stable and natural, take a look at kojic acid. It is a chemical substance derived from various fungi and a by-product of fermented soy sauce and rice wine. Its bleaching function is explained by its ability to prevent the production of tyrosine, the amino acid that takes part in the synthesis of melanin.
Another component that is beneficial when it comes to skin lightening is arbutin. It can be found in a lot of plants such as mulberry, whortleberry and madder, which makes the perfect option for organic skincare lovers.
To speed up the process of removing old darker skin cells to give way to new lighter ones, you need to incorporate gentle chemical peels. Stay away from harsh scrubs that will only irritate or skin and use salicylic or glycolic acid that will also help the active components absorb better into the skin.
  It won’t happen overnight 
When you decide to begin your freckle removal journey, you should realize that it is not a quick process. It might have taken years for the hyperpigmentation to show on our face and body as a result of ultra-violet exposure, so don’t expect it to go away by the wave of the hand.
Lightening creams can no doubt be helpful, but only if you are patient and use them for at least a month. Besides, they have to contain active ingredients that speed up cell revitalization, or else you will just stop getting new freckles but not remove the old ones completely.
The good news is, if you haven’t noticed a slightest change after more than a month, most companies are happy to give you a refund.
And if you are really eager to get rid of freckles or melasma as quickly as possible, consider other treatments, but only after consulting with dermatologist.
  Use your cream responsibly 
Hydroquinone, despite its effectiveness, have often been regarded as a rather controversial and even toxic product. But its properties depend on the derivation technology, which has already been improved.
It goes without saying that, as with any other product, you have to first test the cream on a small area and wait for a few minutes to see if there is no allergic reaction. Some people, however, experience mild itchiness and reddening that goes away shortly.
Avoid sensitive areas, such as lips, nostrils and near the eyes and don’t combine hydroquinone with anything containing peroxide, as it will only give you the opposite result, that is, make your skin even darker.
Whitening cream should be the second step in your skincare routine after cleansing. Then it can be followed by toning, moisturizing and whatever you use to treat your skin.
  Bottomline 
First thing you need to remember is that your beauty comes from within. And if freckles happen to be that one thing that clashes with your perception of yourself, there is always a way to fix it. With freckle removal creams, it may take time for you to see a result, but it’s definitely worth it.
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revivagenixfacts · 6 years
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Proof That Rvxadryl Male Enhancement Really Works
Rvxadryl Review: You could have the most exciting tricks up your Sleeve for pleasing your partner in bed but if you don't have the stamina to use those tricks, there is not any usage of them. This is a problem that's faced by most males around the world today. Embarrassed and humiliated, they cannot inform anyone about their problem but the surveys demonstrate that lots of people completely stopped having sex since they were ashamed of the own performance. This isn't surprising because it's been seen that poor performance can decrease your self-esteem and make you do much more badly in bed.
When you’re young, the operation is quite well since you have The energy and stamina that's necessary in bed. As you grow over age 30, this endurance begins to decline. Not only in your lifetime, you should also have seen you find it difficult to perform you daily chores or carry out jobs which you used to before. Same is true with sexual performance. The most important reason for this is your testosterone count begins to decrease and with a massive effect on your game in bed.
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Rvxadryl: An Alternative
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Important Features
Some of the important features of Rvxadryl are listed below:
Firstly, the supplement is purely natural. This is a choice that you have to make when you are going to use any supplement. Do you want it to be synthetic or natural?
Rvxadryl is made with organic ingredients that are grown under the supervision of experts and authorities.
The labs in which Rvxadryl is made are also approved by the regulatory authorities. This makes the user sure that they are putting a safe and controlled product in their body.
Rvxadryl can be used by males of any age and size. You could be a 30 year old or an individual older than 50. The supplement would show promising effects for both the users. This is because the ingredients used in this formula are not aimed at a certain age group. Instead, they are for general use.
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Ingredients of Rvxadryl
The ingredients used in Rvxadryl also have some conventional importance. They were used in medication of older times to act as aphrodisiac. The problem of sexual incompetence in males is not a brand new one. This is exactly why we find traces of distinct herbs and plants used because of its treatment even in the olden times. So, the business was inspired by these ingredients and decided to use them in their formula.
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L- Arginine: This is an amino acid that's essential for the body. Amino acids Can be broken down by the body for energy in order that they help to make the person more energetic and powerful. Moreover, they are liable for the treatment of any wear or tear in the body. At precisely the exact same time, amino acids are also the building blocks of proteins and they help make up the critical proteins in the body.
Make up the hormones: Therefore, in the presence of this amino acid, your blood circulation will be readily directed towards the penile chamber so you will have more promising and company responses. This will not only cause you to feel confident but it will also make your spouse really happy.
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Gingko Bioloba: This is one of the ingredients which have been taken in the traditional medications. The purpose of this ingredient is to make you have a greater sexual libido so that you never disappoint yourself or your spouse in bed. The presence of this ingredient ensures that whatever you want to do it bed is going to be carried out easily, without you facing a problem or a sexual obstacle.
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All of these ingredients are organic and that’s the Reason they’re so great for your wellbeing. Synthetic ingredients are made in the lab in order that they make the purchase price of the formulation high and they also have health hazards since they're madder under the effect of chemicals and heat. Thus, it's far better to go with a formula that is made out of natural ways. You can research a bit about those ingredients to find out if they have got any injury that could possibly be associated with you because of history of disease or any allergies.
It is very important to check for allergies because you do not want to end up in the hospital after using a product which you just weren't supposed to. Always consult your doctor so that they is able to inform you about the usage of supplements. It's possible that you might have any background of ailments that causes you vulnerable to these ingredients.
Using of Rvxadryl
For utilizing Rvxadryl, you do not need a blender or any tough recipe. It comes in the kind of soft gels so you can take it with water readily. Just gulp the water down and you will not even feel the taste of the gel onto your tongue. Ensure you have read the labels correctly and you are following the dosage that is provided on the jar.
The effects may be different based on how regularly you use the Formula and whether you couple it with something or not. In case you've got a long-term weight loss plan, then you are going to require a coupling mechanism so that the functioning of this supplement is enhanced. For this, it is possible to do a little bit of effort or follow a diet program. The outcomes will be quicker then and you'll also end up working for the aims.
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Reviews for Rvxadryl
Supplements functions. Once you read the reviews for Rvxadryl on the website, you can observe it is loved by the users. Among the users stated that he had been facing problem in getting erections and maintaining them for the longest period. He was too ashamed to speak to anyone about it and because of this rationale; he didn't even meet any women. He said he wished to eliminate this problem so bad that he started searching on the Internet for the solution.
He found Rvxadryl online and placed an order after he read the benefits of this formula. He explained that the supplement arrived in just two days and he left a chart to see his everyday progress. According to him, in just a week's time, his erections got stronger. He was also able to sense excited more easily and he said that he couldn't think how well he had been able to perform in bed with his new girlfriend.
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Where to Buy Rvxadryl
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Final Verdict on Rvxadryl
Rvxadryl is a boon for those people who wish to boost their It may really help you make your Spouse happy and have the best time in bed that you have ever had. Just As you're a bit does not necessarily mean that you cannot have fun.
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Read more... https://goo.gl/5qjsDF
Source 1: https://besthealthsolution.hatenablog.com/entry/best-ways-to-use-rvxadryl-male-enhancement Source 2: https://works.bepress.com/revivagenixfacts/14/
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