#thcinfernal

Consent is sexy || Accepting!

So wrapped up in each other now that you're finally able to touch each other. Those late night possibilities now are a reality, and the two of you are eager to indulge. The taste of her is every bit as sweet and spicy as you imagined, like whizzbangs dancing on your tongue. Her strong hands make quick work of all the straps and buckles of a ranger's leather armor. When it comes to the scarf on your neck, she pauses. Soft with her words. The tenderness of it makes it feel as if heart would flutter if it could beat again.

"You can." Moving just so Karlach can make quick work of the simple knot of your scarf, exposing the gastly scar left behind from your beheading. You don't mind it's blight on your flesh as you used to, yet she handles you with such care, even in the midst of your excitement. Your hand draws her face close, what little distance reminds between the two of you dissipates with your lips against hers, hungry for all that she is. "Today, tomorrow, and every day after that."

The flames crackled, casting shadows across the camp. Wyll could only look at the fires for so long before they reminded him of the hellfire that had coursed through his body, pulling him down through the circles, wracking his soul and rending him until he was reborn a devil.

The Blade looked away, the weight of his horns making him feel top-heavy. Shit. He still wasn't used to them. They were itchy, gangly and messed with the natural rhythm of his body. But he wouldn't complain or curse his lot. He'd made his choice and he stood by it. Hells, if he had to do it over he'd make the same decision.

Ashen would be deeply amused, if he were not so Gods-damn tense with longing. There was no infernal engine within him, thank the Great Guard - he had escaped that fate when he decided to flee Avernus faster than Zariel could forcefully enlist him - but there had been an abstinence too long for his taste.

Amusement indeed, because Karlach was supposed to be his mortal enemy; she had been, once, and he probably owed his survival to meeting her in a weakened state that would have made any fight dishonourable. He would not have guessed in any way that his relationship with Zariel's champion would turn out to be something else than conflictual, let alone lustful.

In a way, this felt like they were both defying the fates they were destined to, and this pleased him.

Submission in pleasure came to him as easily as dominance in battle, should his partner will it, and the Hellrider eventually sank to his knees at the tiefling's demand, breath growing heavier as his hands stilled themselves on her thighs, looking up to her with near desperation in his eyes.

she was strong, an archdevil's personal soldier; she could protect him.

she was strong, she was spirited, she was beautiful, if unrefined; were it not for her persistent draw towards do-goodery, the sentiment behind his honeyed words might even have been genuine. her company wasn't unpleasant, though, all things considered, and so he flashed her a toothy smile in response, raising his glass, before taking a long drink.

“ cheers, indeed. ”

@thcinfernal sent : ❝ When he says 'punished' do you think he means 'locked up' or 'brutally murdered'? ❞

My threads with @thcinfernal today: smut, intimacy, intimacy, will you help me hide some bodies, smut.

Witcher 2 Sentence Starters // Accepting! @thcinfernal

"Funny how that works isn't it?" he asked rhetorically, smiling mirthlessly. He lifted his chin, his gaze drifting thoughtfully into the distance as he continued. "How it implies that people are actually reasonable when they aren't trapped. And yet most still manage to be utterly brainless, even in the best of circumstances." He paused to consider his own thoughts, only now hearing them out loud for the first time.