#;the obsidian ring king

[gomzdrawfr]

Oh I miss Royal AU PriceRaven! Will Magpie also appear there in the future? What will happen to Price's Royal Status then? Or will Raven be promoted to queen?

aNON- god man Idk what to say for you to combine two aus together which somehow kicked me into another new au LMFAO

okay so. I made it sad- ((SORRY))

see the initial idea was that yada yada yada Raven somehow has royal blood so they get married and she's the queen and all, but then lately I was leaning towards more like King Price giving up his throne to be with her and live like commoners, perhaps then they'll have Magpie

Now imagine if that doesn't happen, cause well he's a king, it's not going to be easy, so....so if he were to be pushed into a political marriage and then have a kid.

Imagine what Royal Guard!Raven would feel, carrying his child that is not her own

she can't do anything but to accept the reality, and of course, how could she bring herself to loathe or hate a baby, when she bears Price's eyes.

okay pushing away the sad though, imagine if it's funny and Raven just decided to steal Price away anyways-

wHEEZE OKAY BUT THEN YOU TALKED ABOUT QUEEN RAVEN-

and that gave me....some ideas...((oh no))

I had ideas before of....Princess Raven, a veil princess...maybe King!Price visited her land....getting lost in the palace and then stumbled into her, thinking she was a royal servant initially with how modest and dark her clothings was....only to find out she's the Princess of that place and imMEDIATELY folds

"Marry me." "uhm- with all due respect-" "PLEASE" "????"

IMAGINE THE KISS- LIKE- BENEATH THE VEIL- I COULDNT DRAW IT ROMANTICALLY SO JUST HAVE THIS-

[missycolorful]

the way Ender King's greed-filled manipulation has been slow yet still fairly noticeable on q!Philza, is fascinating. It's the little things that ring loud.

It's q!Phil constantly saying "I'm poor" when he has thousands of coins and plenty of tasks he can do to gain more.

It's him trying to create a scam with the seashells as lootboxes, only to forego the idea, because he's too immersed in opening the seashells for loot on his own.

It's all the casual stealing and looting that would be normal among the rest of the islanders, but there's something more... obsessive in the way Phil does it.

It's him saying "Gotta get more things for me and my eggs," as he clutches two crying obsidian in his inventory, before the screen fades on today's stream.

Phil's all like "it's probably fine," as he sits at the balcony of his home, overlooking the horizon. He was looking around, as if expecting to see something. But the problem is, the Ender King isn't gonna just appear outta nowhere to claim him. He's being careful, slow, and methodical about all this, disturbingly so.

He's slowly corrupting q!Phil. The Ender King is already here.

[uraharasfavoriteexperiment]

[ pairing ] husband!heian era!ryomen sukuna x male reader [ genres ] fluffy romance with a villain [ cw ] phsyical contact, kisses (sukuna has a potty mouth in the nsfw version :3) [ author's notes ] i also wrote a nsfw version if anyone wants to see it, its also a bit longer than this cute one [ words ] 583 please reblog fanfictions when you read one you like! likes do not help writers' algorithms!

sukuna yawned into his hand, sitting up in bed. he reached up with that hand and ruffled his fluffy, jet-black hair, a sigh escaping his lips. he then let out a soft, quiet sound one could accurately call a growl. he looked over at the boy on the other side of the bed, smiling. he reached out and let his fingers roam into your [color/texture] hair, his smile widening into a small grin. he let his fingers tangle into your hair and detangled them in a way that was uncharacteristically soft, caring and gentle for his usual murderous, aggressive, loud personality.

you slowly slid across the line from sleep to wakefulness, a small, sleepy smile inching onto your face in response to the gentle, loving feeling of someone else's fingers playing around in your hair.

"mm... morning, s'kuna..." you mumbled, smiling again. you slowly stretched your arms out in front of you, then just as slowly turned over onto your back and looked up toward the ceiling; when you saw who was to blame for the random show of affection.

instead of looking up at the obsidian ceiling of ryomen sukuna's bedroom, you made direct eye contact with the king of curses himself... the king of curses who just so happened to have your heart wrapped around his finger... and a wedding ring, as well.

sukuna grinned, looking you right back in the eyes as his fingers continued to frolic in your hair.

" cursed morning, darling... " he purrs into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe.

a soft blush about the same color of the insides of sukuna's irises (the area around his pupils) dusted your face; a grin crossed your face that matched the one on your husband's face. you reached up and made grabby hands at sukuna; he gladly obliged, letting his weight fall onto his elbow and leaning down to touch the tip of his nose to yours. you wrapped your arms around him and your fingers started to wander up and down his shoulders and the area of his spine that was the back of his neck.

sukuna smiled, cupping the side of your face in one hand and pressing his lips to yours. the kiss gave you some of the same feelings you had felt when you and sukuna had experienced that first kiss... it was soft, loving, passionate... but at the same time it was hot, it conveyed the eternally existing fire of need he felt for you, and it may have been slightly aggressive... and slightly possessive.

pff, "slightly," scratch that- sukuna would burn every civilization in the milky way galaxy to the ground if any living thing ever put a hand on you, whether harm was meant or not.

you smiled against sukuna's lips, pulling him closer and letting him pick you up with all four of his big, strong, war-worn hands, changing your positions so that you were sitting comfortably in his lap.

"mmmm... so pretty..." he purred into your ear. his hands roamed your top-naked body possessively as he softly broke the kiss, putting two hands on both sides of your face and touching his forehead to yours. his other two arms squeezed your thighs, then slid up to grip your waist before two arms wrapped around your lower back, gently but covetously forcing you closer to him so that your chest was pressed against his.

"mine." he growled quietly, his voice dripping with many emotions- love, obsession...

and the lingering desire to kill.

© uraharasfavoriteexperiment.

[taking-thyme]

🌅 Lucifer Deity Guide 🌅

Note: This is inspired by both my own experiences with Lucifer and the information I read on @scarletarosa's blog and her devotional guide to him. Please go read that one too!!

The divine rebel, Lucifer is the light of truth and divine wisdom; an ancient light which shines through the darkness, representing illumination. He is the driving force of innovation, liberation and transformation. According to Scarletarosa, who actively works with Lucifer and was told this by him, he was the first-born god of the Universe created by the supreme deity, the Source. He is so incredibly ancient and beautiful. Lilith was created to be his counterpart, the Queen of Heaven. However, Jehovah took the throne of heaven from Lucifer and cast him and his followers into hell. Most of them lost their connection to heaven and their energy became dark and intense. Jehovah claimed the throne of heaven and set himself up as the one true god, manipulating humans into betraying their original deities. Thus, Lucifer became the King of Hell and has been scorned by Christians for millenia. 

God of: Illumination, Light, Darkness, Change, Rebirth, Challenges, Innovation, Logic, Truth, Knowledge, Wisdom, Strategy, Persuasion, Revolution, Luxury, Pleasure, Freedom, The Arts and The Morning Star (“Morning Star” is another name for the planet Venus)

Symbols: Sigil of Lucifer, The Morning Star, Violins and Fiddles (instruments traditionally associated with him)

Plants and Trees: Rose, Belladonna, Mulberry, Patchouli, Myrrh, Min, Tobacco, Marigold, Lilies, Hyacinth, Sage

Crystals: Amethyst, Black Obsidian, Onyx, Garnet, Selenite, Rose Quartz

Animals: Black Animals in general, Dragons, Snakes, Owls, Eagles, Ravens, Crows, Rams, Foxes, Pigs,  Bats, Rats, Moths, Swans

Incense: Rose, Frankincense, Patchouli, Myrrh

Colors: Black, Red, Silver, Emerald Green, Gold

Tarot: The Devil

Planets: The Morning Star, Venus

Day: Monday and Friday

Consort: Lilith

Children: Naema, Aetherea and many others

How was he traditionally worshipped?

There is not much to say about how Lucifer was historically worshiped seeing as he wasn’t worshiped at all for a large chunk of human history. He seems to have been worked with in some capacity according to the Gesta Treverorum, written in 1231, which is where we first see the term Luciferian being used to refer to his worship. This was by a woman named Lucardis for a religious circle, who was said to lament to Lucifer in private and prayed to him. However, the term Luciferians was later applied to basically any groups Christians didn’t like and wanted to fight, as one might expect. However, the modern Luciferian movement also sheds light on how Lucifer is worshiped. For Luciferians, enlightenment is the ultimate goal. Their basic principles highlight truth, freedom of will and fulfilling one’s ultimate potential, and encourage the same in all of us. Traditional dogma is shunned because Luciferians believe that humans do not need deities or the threat of eternal punishment to know what is good and the right thing to do. All ideas are to be tested before being accepted, and even then one should remain critical because knowledge is fluid and ever-changing. Regardless of whether Luciferians view Lucifer as a deity or an archetype, he is a representation of ultimate illumination and exploration in the name of personal growth. 

Epithets

Phanes

The Morning Star

Light-bringer

The First-born

Prince of Darkness

Son of Morning

The Glory of Morning

Lord of the Lunar Sphere

The First Light

Offerings

Red Wine, Whiskey (especially Jack Daniels), Champagne, Pomegranate Juice, Black Tea (especially earl grey), Chocolate (especially dark chocolate), Cooked Goat Meat, Venison, Apples, Pomegranates, Honey, Good Quality Cigars, Tobacco, Daggers and Swords, Silver Rings, Emeralds and Emerald Jewelry, Goat Horns, Black Feathers, Seductive Colognes, Red Roses, Dead Roses, Crow Skulls, Bone Dice, Devotional Poetry and Artwork, Classical Music (especially violin)

Devotional Acts

Acts of self-improvement, spiritual awakening and evolution, knowledge-seeking and dedication to spirituality ; Shadow Work ; Working to overcome your ego to become wiser ; Defending those in need ; Working to better yourself without being too self critical ; Fighting against tyranny and bigotry whenever you encounter it

Altar Decorations

Black or Red Candles, Snake and Dragon Figurines, His sigil, Roses, Fancy Chess Boards and Playing Cards, Silver Jewlery and ornaments, Black feathers, Goat horns

Appearance

For me Lucifer usually appears as a tall light-skinned man with long fiery red hair (so red it looks like it’s been dyed), a sophisticated face with a killer jawline, passionate eyes and dressed in a fancy black suit. From all my experiences with him and what I’ve heard from other followers, it seems Lucifer and most demons dress in full suits and tuxedos. 

Personality

Lucifer is nothing if not charming. He’s a protector first and foremost - one that always works to help you better yourself, but a protector nonetheless. He feels like a protective older brother taking care of you while your parents are away. He is a very complex entity, deeply wise and eloquent. He is more serious than one might expect for a demon given their popular depictions in our culture as chaotic forces of evil, but Lucifer is full of courage and love. I often feel him with me even when I’m not doing things related to him. He is proud of his follower’s accomplishments and congratulates them on a job well done, though he also reminds them that the job is never truly over. Growth is constant. Lucifer is the epitome of growth, blunt and gentle at the same time, telling you what you need to do and giving you space to figure out how to do it. 

Lucifer values resilience, the pursuit of self-betterment, intellectualism, courage, open-mindedness and responsibility in individuals and wants to see his followers develop these qualities. He is constantly rooting for you to reach your full potential. He won’t hold your hand the entire way, but he will help you take steps in the right direction. Lucifer, like all deities, is different for everyone and will adjust his approach depending on your needs.

^ The Sigil of Lucifer

[azsazz]

Tethered

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Trying a little something different here...not sure how I'm going to explain it yet, but this fic is more of a fantasy aspect than my other fics.

Warnings: Mentions of burns and death.

Word Count: 3,569

_________________________________________

Pain.

The first thing you recognize when you come to is pain. That, and the darkness.

It consumes you from all angles, a darkness so deep and ancient it feels otherworldly. It coils around you like a frightened snake, smothering what little air you’re able to choke down. You blink once, twice, to attempt to clear your vision, but the black coating the space around you doesn’t so much as shift.

It’s how you know you’re in deep shit.

A sharp pounding pierces your skull, preventing you from shoving your shaky arms beneath your aching body and pushing to your feet. The feeling is worse than that of any wound bestowed upon you up until this point. Not even the King of Hel’s rigorous training or your mother’s disappearance had been so painful.

There’s a gnawing so deeply in your bones that you wonder if the feeling has always been with you, if you’ve somehow become accustomed to the feeling of your body screaming in agony.

Growing up in Hel, you should be used to such things.

Sunbursts spot your vision, the bleeding eclipses warring with the darkness. You hold your breath for a beat or two, trying to force your pulsing heart to calm. Exhaling slowly doesn’t help, only forces your breathing to become shakier.

It’s eerily silent, save for your panting breath. The screams of agony still ring in your ears, the King of Hel’s malicious laugh accompanying them as he splays himself across his throne, grinning at the two maidens sat in his lap.

As you scramble to gather your bearings, you wrack your muddled mind for where you might be and how you survived. You take inventory of as much as you’re able—the sharp flares of pain in your ribs, jagged and harsh with each inhale and exhale you take, and there’s a ringing in your ears that gives even the wailing spirits of Hel a run for their coin.

Hel. The last thing you remember was standing before your King, the sovereign of the underworld. He’d smirked down at you from his throne made of obsidian and bones, towering over not only you, but the entirety of Hel itself. The wicked curve of his lips and piercing dark eyes had only forced you down to your knees by looks alone.

You had not wanted to meet the gaze of your ruler, always hated his attention on you, but as one of his favored, you were often in his presence. Forced into doing his dirty work because of what you were born into, powers that were unlike anything in either Hel nor Haven, a one-of-a-kind ability he sought to take advantage of.

Your glittering quiver had been strapped across your back, and the image comes back to you vividly—clutching the grip of your bow as the King sealed your bargain with a red-hot hand to your skin and a wicked grin on his face.

A shuddering inhale makes your nose scrunch. You can still smell the remnants of your burning flesh beneath his palm.

You had nearly passed out from the pain. Maybe you did, because no matter how much you furrow your brows and wrack your brain, you can’t seem to figure out how you ended up where you are now, face down on the cold, hard ground.

Reaching out blindly for the bow that’s fallen from your fingers, you groan, the long sleeve of the silky white shirt you don beneath your armor brushes against the sensitive mark on your forearm. Your fingers creak as you uncurl them, rubble and debris scratching against your hand, burying deep beneath your nails as you search for your weapon.

The lightweight of your quiver is comfortable at your back. You choke down a shuddering groan as you lift your wings, biting your lip at the tenderness you feel at your back. They seem to be in one piece, as you twist them this way and that, only throbbing dully with bruises. Creatures of all sorts could be lining the darkness surrounding you, and you understand that you’re taking too long to rise, the shadows and nightmares of The Void keeping you off balance.

The King must have had one of his goons throw your hardly-conscious body into The Void after your bargain sealed. That’s how you ended up here. A spine cracking shudder makes bumps rise on your skin as your body stills.

Stories of The Void come rushing to you, and if you try hard enough, you can smell the lingering scents of the other worlds’—a smoldering smoke as black as The Void surrounds you, cloying your throat in thick waves as if trying to choke you, brand you with the reminder of where you are to return to. Cutting through the utter wickedness is the sharp perfume of something other, a fresh breeze lined with citrus that must be a figment of your imagination because there is no scent like that in Hel, nor breeze in The Void. It simply is.

It must be Haven, you decide. You only recognize the heavens from stories trickled down through the rift of worlds, from picturesque stories and secrets in shadow.

You haven’t known anything other than Hel. You cannot recall your father, hardly any of your mother, nor how you ended up in the King’s care. All you remember from your earliest memories are the soothing tones of your mother when you were young and scared, calming you in her arms before you ended up with the King, and the gleaming bow you never go without.

Forged by a millennia-old weapons-master, you’d been gifted the very weapon you seek now. No one knows how it had gotten to her—not even the King himself—only that the exquisite piece had come from the best battlement blacksmith Hel had to offer. You were no older than eight, eyes rounded with wonder at the sight of the gleaming gold bow settled on your bed, matching quiver and arrows accompanying it.

You shove the thoughts away. Your heart leaps into your throat the longer you search for your weapon. The pain zipping up your body help to focus you, and the strain threatens to give out as your fingers finally find the familiar metal grip of your bow. You hold on tightly and drag it to you, feeling the weapon for signs of damage.

Your bow soothes you as you trace your fingers across the solid gold riser. You know this weapon better than you know yourself. You could be blind and know the inside outs of your beloved weapon, like you are now, vision clouded with black as your fingers slide down the string, taut and flexible as ever.

Once you’re satisfied with the condition of your bow, you attempt to rise. The thick robes you’re clothed in had broken none of the fall. They’re heavy against your body as you struggle to gain your footing, stretching your wings wide to balance. The fabric brushes against your wound and you bite back a yelp at the pain that burns through you like a wildfire.

You had thought that without parents or a family to lose there would be nothing for the King to hold over your head, to force you into his tricks and deals, for him to rip away for his enjoyment, but the wretched ruler always found a way. You clenched your teeth so hard that you thought they would crack as you were forced to your knees before him, glaring daggers up at the beautiful ruler while he only grinned like a wolf, licking over those sharpened canines like he was out for your blood. Again.

He hadn’t let you agree to the terms of your bargain until you screamed.

Shoving to your feet, you splay your arms wide for balance. The harsh ground offered no grip beneath your boots and the blackness does little to help you stay stable. You try to keep your breathing calm when it sharpens as you look around. There’s nothing but the darkness and yourself, not a pinprick of light to guide you nor a sound to be heard. Not even your own thick-soled shoes make noise as you test a step forward.

The silence doesn’t break and the prowling creatures that reside in The Void don’t stir. Beings of nightmares, you’d been told when you were only a child and before your mother was taken from you. Your imagination couldn’t be sated when you were young, always begging for more and more stories of the world outside of Hel, questioning why you weren’t allowed to go anywhere else.

You hated the fires and heat of Hel, always burning a spot in your mind or your skin. You craved more, to see the open sky instead of storming clouds of thick smoke that perpetually covered Hel in charcoal waves. You yearned to see the stars and the moon and the heavens of Haven, with their buttery sunrises and dreamy dusks.

Your mother’s face is a long-forgotten memory, but the stories she told are not. Tales of animals and creatures so large, fit with razor-sharp teeth and glowing eyes stalking around The Void, monstrosities that not even the King of Hel could conjure.

Okay, you remind yourself, shaking the worry from your head. It’s time to make a move.

You’re sitting prey if you don’t. The feathers are a familiar comfort brushing your fingertips as you reach over your shoulder, sliding a singular arrow from the quiver with ease. The gold tipped point sings as it’s unsheathed from its home at your back and you notch it in the bowstring with controlled practice. It’s a motion that keeps your hands from shaking and soothes your breathing, a warrior at the ready, should any of the nightmare’s attack.

As you move, you realize that making your way through the darkness is no easy feat. Not a sound to guide your way nor a flicker of a torch to assess your surroundings. There is only darkness and silence and it beats at you with each tentative step you take. Slow progress is still progress, you try to remind yourself, but you can’t help but feel as if you’re talking in circles, the maze of shadows spinning your sense of direction, offering no reprieve.

Even the scents of Hel and Haven have faded, though you feel better about the former washing from your senses. If only the perfumed scent of Haven remained—you’d gladly follow the trail right up to the heavens, King of Hel be damned.

It had once been a dream to see Haven in all of its glory…before you realized that there was no escaping Hel, no escaping the King and his sinful grins and wicked games.

A sound forces her to still, limbs locking up before you force yourself to steady your stance and take aim, squinting through the black. Your pointed ears perk as you listen intently, not daring even a shallow breath. A soft noise sounds, like a cloth brushing across glass. It’s fleeting, morphing all too quickly into a screeching, grating noise that reverberates in your bones. Talons. They. Sound so similar to those of the King’s hounds giving chase down the long halls of his palace that there is no doubt in your mind the creature stalking you could shred you limb from limb.

The noise ricochets against the hard ground of The Void, echoing off of the nothingness that surrounds you. It makes your head spin, torso twisting to follow the movement as you search desperately. For the source.

Standing frozen, boy taut as you strain to glimpse any sign of where the lurking creature may be, a barely recognizable purr accompanies the grinding claws. With the darkness of The Void swallowing all movement, it feels as if the noises are consuming you, echoing in all directions and baffling your sense further.

Glowing, white eyes blink open, startling you. Your heart skips a beat in your chest as you jump, tightening your grip on your weapon and swinging it in the direction of the lurking beast, the tip of your arrow aimed right between those bright eyes.

You don’t dare more, though the smart thing to do would be to release the sharp-tipped arrow the beast’s way, but the creature doesn’t move. It blinks slowly, sleepily at you with its gleaming eyes, staring at you as if it’s curious instead of the horrifying nightmare the King and others had warned you about.

You curse silently as it stands. You’re pinned by those unnervingly bright. Eyes as it bounds closer. A reflection of what you’ve heard the moon looks like lies within its stare, though you don’t think the creature has seen the luminous beacon in the sky either. In the low light reflecting from its gaze, you catch sight of the sharp teeth as the nightmare licks its maw, and the pointed talons that clack against the stone ground as it closes in on you.

You could run. You can turn around and spring through the darkness for your life, pray to Haven that you don’t trip over a worse dark-dwelling beast, but with the deep ache in your bones you know that you won’t make it far fast enough.

The King of Hel hadn’t been lying when he taunted you with how terrifying these beasts could be.

You wonder for a fleeting moment if the ruler of Hel even expected you to make it out of The Void.

Heart racing in your chest, for the first time since you’ve mastered your bow, your fingers tremble around the taut string. You can let lose an arrow between its glowing hot eyes. There’s no falter in your aim, even with the miniscule shake. If you will it, your arrow will strike true.

The prowling beast halts only meters from you. Your heart pounds loudly in your chest and the beast must be able to hear it beating against your golden breastplate from the way that it cocks its head and blinks up at you. It nearly reaches your chest and you swallow harshly, knowing that one wrong move will have the beast snapping at you. You hardly breathe as lips curl away from blade-sharp teeth that glint in the glow of its blinding eyes.

There are only a handful of seconds to decide your next move—to bare your own teeth and show the creature what you’re made of, firing the gold-tipped arrow, or stand down and hope that the predator does the same.

One breath, two, and you watch the creature lower itself onto its haunches. Your hands fall to your side in relief. The arrow is a surety in your grasp as you slowly sheath it back in place at your back. A surety that if the beast attacks, you’d be even more of a fool than the King ever claimed.

Following your movements with bright eyes, the growling of the beast falters, then quiets. It straightens, sitting taller, more menacing, and nearly meets your gaze straight on. It stares at you until your empty hand is back at your side, bargain mark throbbing as it brushes against your cloak.

You’re just as confused as the creature across from you, staring at each other like two sides of the same coin. It’s like you know the beast, seen it in your dreams or heard tales about it from your mother, but your mind is muggy, and you can’t grasp where the familiar feeling is from. You see yourself in its eyes, lost in the darkness with no light to guide you out.

As if the creature understands this, it dips its chin to study you.

Its breath is balmy against your throat and it sends shivers up your spine. Your lip’s part to gasp at the same time the creatures open to taste your scent, deciding if you’re a threat or not. The heaving breaths against your skin tickle, but there’s nothing funny about the way the creature stills, as if the raging beast wants to slash through your delicate flesh, to feel your hot blood sticky beneath its paws.

“Help me,” you dare whisper. It’s spoken as quietly as your voice allows, but the sound carries into the void as if you screamed it.

A howl answers that makes you flinch and itch to press your palms against her ears. It hadn’t come from the beast before you, who snuffs in response, its full row of teeth reappearing as its eyes narrow, staying tightly locked on you.

“Help me,” you plead, desperation clinging to your words. You need to get out of here, need to breathe the night air and see the real moon and feel its silvery rays upon your skin just once, you need to find somewhere safe so you can begin working towards what you came here for, why the bargain mark burns with every movement. Your freedom. It’s all you want from the King, from Hel, to be able to roam as you please, leaving the underworld to find something greater.

You want to remember something other than the harrowing sights of Hel, than the King’s sharp smile mocking you every time you close your eyes. The things he’s made you do, the things you’ve made yourself do. This cannot be the end.

You won’t let it be.

“I’m trying to find Velaris,” you continue when another yip joins the first. A hunting party, likely moving this way. The sounds are closer this time, but the darkness doesn’t allow you to gauge just how far they roam or how many there are. Your gaze sweeps around as if the soft light emitting from the beast’s eyes will allow you to see the others. The blackness leers in response, no longer the sinister silence but instead filled with a terrifying array of noises that will only enhance the harrowing nightmares that plague you. “I need to find the city.”

Your fingers tighten around the handle of your bow but the action does nothing to ease the worry eating at you.

Maybe it’s the raw despair in your tone or the glistening look in your eyes or the thunderous beating of your heart that makes the beast take pity on you.

Blinking up at you, the creature slinks closer, damp snout pressing into your hand. You hold back the flinch at the coldness of it, and it gives you a gentle nudge as if to say, ‘Why didn’t you say so?’

Releasing a sigh of relief, the beast allows you to press your hand to the top of its furry head as it leads you towards further darkness. The creature’s mane is soft and thick between your uneasy hold, leaving you to wonder if this being isn’t a menacing creature bred to hunt within The Void, but one that had been just as scared as you.

The howls of creatures around them die down as you’re lead through black. You don’t know if you should be breathing easier or harder when the noises die out completely, leaving your breathing and the clacking of the beasts claws against the stony ground as the only sounds as you walk.

Blinking, you are convinced your mind is playing tricks on you at first, as you begin making out different shapes. Black turns to a deep navy, then lighter until you can see silhouettes of trees and mountains beyond. The hard stone turns to soft earth laden with thick grasses reaching nearly to your knees.

The air is sharp, crisp with the oncoming scent of a storm. Your head snaps towards the sky, searching for a star, the moon, anything you can to ensure you’ve ended up in the correct place, but thick, rumbling clouds cover every inch of the star-smattered sky.

Disappointment floods your veins with ice. You’d been wishing to see for yourself since you were a child and your mother had spoken so highly of the bright splotch in the sky, and it has gnawed at you as you grew into the female you are now, proud and strong.

With a disheartened sigh, you turn to face the creature who’d been leading you through the darkness, only to find it gone. You hadn’t felt the beast slip from your grasp, entranced on the opportunity to see the beautiful night sky. It had disappeared on those stealthy paws, dipping from your hold and back into the swallowing darkness of The Void.

It looms behind you, an open, cavernous mouth that seems to creep slowly, consuming the trees and stars and sky. You wonder if it had somehow consumed the moon, if The Void is a living being all its own—a trap waiting patiently to devour what wanders into its well laid snare.

A shudder works its way up your spine as you stare. You know well that you will be back, when it is time to return to Hel with the King’s prize, and then and only then, will you have your freedom.

The word burns your skin just thinking about it. A time where you will be able to roam freely from the nightmares of Hel, doing as you please without the King there to loom and rule over you. The taste of the salty night breeze is only a tease of what you will soon have.

[nateezfics]

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

PAIRING — hongjoong x reader

GENRE — smut, greek mythology au, hades!hongjoong, persephone!reader, fem!reader, dom!hongjoong, sub!reader

WARNINGS — smut, unprotected sex, fingering, marking, corruption, sexual langue/dirty talk

WORD COUNT — 2.1k

SUMMARY — for underworldnet’s season of love event day three, something sweet.

You had tasted the most delectable of fruits, delighting yourself in an endless abundance in your mother Demeter’s gardens. All your life as a goddess you were spoiled with fruits that ran full with the sweetest juices.

You never imagined how those flavors would grow bitter in comparison to the taste of a handful of pomegranate seeds. You never expected the lips of the god of the dead to be sweeter than anything your tastebuds had ever touched.

You never knew yourself to be a glutton, but as his fingers pushed another pomegranate seed through your lips, you were suddenly insatiable. The seed overwhelmed your tongue with its tart sweetness, and you relished in it, humming in satisfaction.

Hongjoong smirked, sharp eyes locked onto the sight of his fingers pressing into your lips. His free hand traveled up your thigh, gathering the silk fabric of your dress and hiking it upwards. His palm felt the goosebumps on your skin, and he delighted himself in the way you whimpered as his hand sunk underneath your dress. “Have you always had a taste for sweet things, goddess?”

You gazed down at him through hazy eyes. He was a sight to behold, sitting underneath you, back reclined into his throne casually, power effortlessly exuding from him. You leaned into his touch, his fingers grazing against your bottom lip. “Yes,” you replied, your voice quiet yet loud with arousal. His eyes left your lips to meet yours, and your heart fluttered at the intensity of his gaze. “But I have a much greater taste and hunger for you.”

His eyes deepened and they were like endless pools of obsidian looking up at you. You saw the way desire swam in them; it was the same desire that steadily grew between your legs, and the same desire that filled the throne room with a thickness that rested heavy on your body. Hongjoong’s fingers pressed into the seem of your lips. “Then feast on me until you have your fill.”

But you could never have enough. The moment you stepped foot in the Underworld your fate was sealed; the pomegranate seeds weren’t the only thing that bound you here. It was him, the god of the dead and king of the Underworld. It was him, the god that your mother despised. It was him, the forbidden fruit you were never supposed to taste.

Your lips wrapped around his fingers, tongue lapping at them as they plunged into your mouth. You hummed at the taste of his skin. The rings adorning his fingers were cold against your lips.

“And what if I told you that I hunger for you, too?” Hongjoong’s hand that had been under your dress reached further until his fingers met with your bare sex. You were soaked, and he was eager to plunge two of his fingers into your heat. He watched intently as your face contorted in pleasure, your eyelids fluttering shut as you reveled in the pleasure he offered you. You were warm and tight around his digits, your walls greedily enclosing around him.

Mewls and whimpers spilled from your lips, the sounds slightly muffled by Hongjoong’s fingers. You rocked against his hand in eager desire to chase the building high while your hands rested against his chest. You were happy to take as much as he was willing to give, and with the way he continued to plunge his fingers deep into your sex, it seemed as if his generosity knew no limits. It should’ve been alarming, the way he was able to weaken you so quickly, able to melt you down to a smoldering mess. His deft fingers were quick to reach the most sensitive spot; so effortlessly it was as if he’d been exploring your body for all of eternity. There was an eternity with him to look forward to, an eternity you’d gladly spend just like this, suspended on his lap while he filled you full of the most intoxicating euphoria.

“You’re so pretty like this,” Hongjoong whispered. His voice was reverent, and he worshipped you with his touch. “So pretty stuffed with my fingers.” Long gone was the innocent goddess he had first met in the gardens. You had been so beautiful then, sun kissed skin and bright, wide eyes. Flowers adorned your head and cascaded down the lengths of your hair, and the faintest blush painted your cheeks. His heart was your prisoner the moment you gazed up at him through fluttering lashes, and he was certain then that he would have you for all eternity. Now you were straddled across his lap as you fucked yourself on his fingers, your body soft and pliable from the euphoria, and your skin flushed from arousal. Your hair was a mess of curls and strands hung loosely over your face. And your lips glistened with drool while your eyes rolled backwards at every curl of his digits. You had never looked more divine than you did in this moment.

Your high took you by storm, and he was there to be your solid ground, guiding you through it with soft kisses and praises against your neck. His fingers fell from your mouth so he could wrap his arm around your waist, holding you steady against him. You shook as you fell from your high, fingers curling into his shirt as an attempt for you to ground yourself.

Hongjoong rested his forehead against yours, eyes watching you closely. He smiled fondly as you breathed, air escaping your mouth in heavy pants. “You look the most beautiful when you come undone for me.” He removed his fingers from your sex and brought them near his lips. You watched through hazy eyes as his tongue lapped at his slick fingers, and despite just coming off your previous high, your core reignited with new arousal. The god groaned as he tasted you. “You’re delectable. So fucking sweet. Makes me want to feast on you from the source.”

You moaned when he pulled you against him until you felt the hardness of his erection against your bare sex.

“But as much as I would love to do just that, I can’t deny my own need anymore.” Hongjoong guided your hips back and forth over his erection, and you both moaned at the friction. “I desire to take you. To fill you so full you’ll feel me for all eternity. Would you like that? Want me to fuck you, hm?”

You should have denied him, should have ran as far away from the god of the dead as possible. Your mother warned you to steer clear of him; but here you were, upon him and his throne and so deep within his grasp with no way of escape. The pomegranate seeds weren’t what bound you here. Your desire was. And you were perfectly content to remain within the Underworld if it meant an eternity with him. Your eyes were resolute as they looked into his, and with one word you sealed your fate. “Yes.”

Hongjoong brought your lips to his in a searing kiss. His hands were all over you just as yours sank down to palm his erection. This earned you a low groan from the god below, and the sound shot arousal directly to your core, and suddenly all you cared about was hearing that again. You stroked him over his trousers until you could feel the dampness of precum against your palm. You felt powerful with the king of the Underworld and the dead underneath you, groans of pleasure slipping from his mouth at your touch. “You could unravel me in every way, bring my entire kingdom to its knees with just your touch alone.”

He spoke those words with such conviction you were left with no room for doubt. Pride and arousal flooded your veins; you’d never felt more like a goddess than you did in this moment. You worked to free his cock, and he aided you in slipping his pants down to his knees. You took a moment to admire the beauty that stood erect between his thighs. He was godly in every way, his cock thick and glistening at the tip with precum. You wrapped your fingers around him, and he hissed at the contact immediately. Your thumb swiped across his tip, smearing his arousal all over the head of his cock. You were content to worship his cock despite your raging need, but the calling of your name broke your attention.

Hongjoong watched you closely, eyes darker than they had been before. He replaced your hand with his own and guided his cock to your entrance. “Sit. Sit on your throne, goddess.”

You sank onto him slowly, taking him in inch by inch. You groaned at the stretch, pussy aching in the best way as you accommodated his size. You relished in the foreign yet incredible feeling of being full. Your eyes found his just as his cock sheathed completely in your tight heat, and you could have unraveled there and then.

Hongjoong’s hands gripped your hips as he urged himself to remain still. You were so tight and warm and wet, it took everything in him not to buck his hips into you. In all the centuries he’d endured, he’d never found someone as perfect as you. “It’s like you were made for me, made to take my cock so perfectly. You’re absolutely divine.”

It wasn’t long before you couldn’t endure the stillness anymore. You tentatively rocked your hips against him, and the pleasure was immediate. You mewled, continuing the motion before fully lifting your hips upward until just his head remained within. You came back down, taking him fully again, and the both of you cursed aloud. “O-oh!”

Hongjoong readjusted his hold on you. “Feels good? Do that again. Fuck yourself with my cock.”

You did as he said, bouncing on his cock over and over, steadily increasing your pace. Your thighs soon began to burn, and your knees ached from being bent for so long. Your pace became sloppy as you grew tired, but you were desperate to keep going.

Suddenly your vision was spinning. Your ass met the throne’s cushion as Hongjoong flipped you underneath him, his body now hovering over you. He withdrew himself out of you and slammed himself back in, the force so strong it shook your frame. He repeated this over and over until you were clawing at his back. “I could never tire of having you like this. You’re so fucking perfect, and you’re all mine. Mine to have just like this, splayed out on my throne with your legs spread wide for me as I fuck you. My goddess, my queen.”

Goddess of spring, queen of the Underworld. Those were your titles now, but before you were either of those you were his. And you didn’t care what the aftermath of this would be.

Hongjoong’s hands tugged at your dress until your sleeves fell from your shoulders, revealing your breasts to him. He leaned forward to capture one of your nipples between his teeth, eliciting a whimper from you. You arched into him just as he used his hand to show affection to your other breast, palm kneading the soft flesh. He uttered soft praises against your skin while leaving marks all across your chest. His hips kept their pace, his cock hitting the sweet spot inside you and making stars appear in the corner of your vision.

“Hongjoong.” You spoke his name with both adoration and urgency as you began to spiral closer to your climax. Your fingers gripped at his back as you grew overwhelmed with the pleasure.

Wordlessly Hongjoong reached for your clit, pressing smooth circles into it as he kept his rhythm within you. He watched you as your high took over you, committing every moan, every expression of your face to memory. He was enraptured by your beauty and by the sight of your body as it shook underneath him. Within moments he found his own end, releasing himself inside you and enjoying the way you whimpered as you felt yourself be filled with him. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours.

Your breaths mingled as you both both lied there within the afterglow. Your hands traveled up his back and to his hair and you pulled at the strands until his lips met yours in a slow, languid kiss. You delighted yourself in the taste of him, his sweetness urging you to go back for more and more until your head was spinning. “You said I could feast on you until I had my fill.”

Hongjoong hummed against your lips. “Yes.”

You smirked. “And I am still hungry.”

❦ “Mother you don’t understand; I made Hades run to me. He saw my bones beneath, and offered me half his kingdom. Do you really think I ate the fruit unwillingly?” ❦

AUTHOR’S NOTE — this wasn’t exactly meant specifically for this event, but the timing of me finishing it and the event itself aligned so well i just had to post it now. hope you enjoy hades!hongjoong as much as i do <3

TAG LIST — @a1sh1teruu @abiaswreck @ateezourstars @bangtancultsposts @becauseiloveyunho @glitterhongjoong @couchpotatoaniki @ddemonseonghwa @fantasy2wonderland @hoohoohope @hwas-strawberries @hyuckilstan @jeongyunhoed @jess-1404 @jhluvr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kazumiisama @llsiriusminorisll @lovingyeosang @mrcarrots @mypreciouskhj @pieyoon @eternalmingki @siham21 @sirwaddlefuck @spiderrenjunfics @whatudowhennooneseesyou @woahitsguin @yunhostreasure @yunyunatz @yeritheloml @rdiamond2727 @cypher-net @rkivesofmymemories @moonseonghwa @drunk-on-hwa @hongthoven @8tinytings @thesafecafe @kawaiikels @changbinslovelylegs @minkysmilk @niyizh @mingiholic @friseealamode @kiwibaekie @stargalaxydragon @svintsandghosts

NETWORKS — @underworldnet @kflixnet

ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!

[nataliabdraws]

— IGNITUS (part 1)

pairing: sauron | annatar x narien (original elven female character)

summary: narien makes a plea to old friends for help

warnings: mention of child loss/death

word count: 4.6k

author's note: this is officially part 1 of this series! I hope you enjoy!

read full thing on ao3

Chapter 1

There is nothing a mother wouldn’t do for her child.

Nothing she wouldn’t endure to feel the beat of her child’s heart again, the pulse of her pulse, the blood of her blood, the flesh of her flesh—if only for a moment.

Nothing she wouldn’t sacrifice to fill the hollow carved into her chest by cruel hands, to ease the ache of a loss too vast to bear.

So, Narien goes to war.

She raises her banners, the crimson sigil of her house unfurling against the sky. She rallies her warriors, their oaths ringing in her ears like the clash of steel. But when her forces gather, she sees it—the truth, stark and unyielding. Her numbers are a drop in the ocean compared to the tide of her enemy.

And yet, there is nothing a mother wouldn’t do for her child.

Nothing a queen wouldn’t do for her people.

So Narien will beg. If she must grind her teeth and swallow her pride, let the High King see her with tear-streaked cheeks and trembling hands—she will do it. She will seek counsel in the halls of Lindon, even if her words cut her throat as they leave her lips.

She mounts her wyvern, its scales gleaming black as obsidian in the dim light, its wings vast and leathery like those of some ancient, forbidden thing. Its maw, lined with dagger-sharp teeth, opens in a snarl that echoes through the cliffs. Angruin shifts beneath her, a living storm of muscle and rage, waiting for her command.

Narien’s grip tightens on the reins, her heart a war drum in her ears. The serpent steed coils its powerful frame and leaps skyward, wings slicing through the air like blades.

There is nothing a mother wouldn’t do.

And Narien will do it all.

-

Narien’s first glimpse of Mithlond in two millennia comes from wyvern-back—there is no gentle heralding, no triumphant fanfare, only a jagged pang she cannot quite swallow. The spires rise unchanged, still razor-white as sun-bleached bone, still clawing toward the clouds as if mere sky could not contain them. In another life, she had shaped them with her own hands, back when her skin bore no scars and she believed “forever” was a promise the world would honor.

Angruin’s dark silhouette rakes the forest below, casting its ancient hush into disquiet. She almost believes the treetops themselves flinch beneath it. Even the oldest things know fear now. The endless green, quilted with memories of footpaths and abandoned vows, rolls below her like a restless sea. She forces herself to look away.

Salt-laced wind batters her, sharp enough to feel like a blade cutting through her lungs, and Narien inhales until it burns. Her head pounds with the ache of old regrets. Far off, the cry of gulls stabs through the stillness, and for one breath—clear and glass-fragile—she imagines it is a homecoming. The moment shatters with a single cry:

“Dragon!”

The word detonates in the golden air, fracturing whatever illusions she had left. Beneath, the underbrush erupts in chaos—people scattering like startled prey, their shrieks bending the forest’s silence. Pale faces tilt upward, contorted by terror. A quick, bitter thought flickers through her mind: Would it matter if they recognized me?

A thunderous growl rumbles from Angruin’s chest, vibrating through her ribs. She grips the reins, knuckles whitening as worn leather groans in her hands. She sees precisely what she’d known she’d see: panic, so complete it slashes through those green fields she once vowed to protect. How many centuries ago had she stood on Mithlond’s ramparts, swearing an oath to keep the city safe? Now its walls would mark her as the very threat she’d vowed to repel.

Time devours everything—it spares neither land nor soul. Not even me, she thinks, tasting the irony like steel on her tongue.

Suddenly, Angruin banks, wings ripping the air with a boom akin to thunder. The wyvern’s shadow follows the winding Lhûn River below, skimming where fresh water meets the sea in a swirling brine. Their landing on the shore is an earthquake of sinew and scale, spraying sand in an explosive arc. Gulls take flight in alarm, shrieking indignation at their intrusion.

Narien slips from the saddle, the motion slow and measured, as if testing her own resolve with each shifting muscle. Her knees threaten to buckle the moment her boots sink into the loamy shore, and a tremor runs through her legs, unsteady on land that feels jarringly final after so many hours in the sky. Earth should be a comfort—solid and sure—but it strikes her like a verdict delivered too soon.

The fishermen notice her first, and in that instant, all else fades to instinct. Nets and wicker baskets drop from their hands, tumbling into the sand as they scramble for safety, bodies half-colliding in a frantic escape. Shell-crafters abandon unfinished strands of beads that scatter like broken constellations underfoot, lost to the indifferent tide. Briefly, there is only the hush of the surf against the shore, the sharp tang of salt air, before the soldiers appear—marching in rigid rows, polished plate gleaming like cold stars in the half-light. The crest on their spears—twelve midnight-blue points against silver—makes her chest constrict. Once, those had been her colors.

“Halt!” a voice snaps, as though raw command might truly halt someone who arrives on wyvern-back. Spears level toward her with a collective hiss of metal. “In the name of the High King of Lindon, surrender!”

She lifts her hands, fingers splayed, empty palms catching the wan light. No weapons. Not yet . Their armor rattles as they move in, a brittle chorus echoing the tension that charges the moment. The sky dims by slow degrees, clouds swallowing the sun until what remains is a bleached, lifeless grey.

“I haven’t come to make enemies,” Narien says, steady though her heartbeat thunders against her ribs. As if landing astride a wyvern could be anything but a provocation . “I only want to speak with the High King.”

“And who ,” demands their captain, knuckles white around the haft of his spear, “might ask for his grace’s time?”

She meets his gaze. “Queen Narien,” she answers, and allows a quiet moment for it to sink in. “Of the Narenya.”

It is as though she’s cast a stone into still waters; the soldiers’ faces shift in unison—eyes widening, expressions flickering between shock and awe. In the hush, she savors a fleeting rush of satisfaction—a sweet, private indulgence. She has never been good at denying herself these small victories.

“The beast must go,” the captain says at last, voice betraying the faintest tremor beneath that polished authority. Narien nearly laughs— the beast indeed. One sharp whistle from her, and Angruin snarls, launching skyward in a blast of sand and wind. His shadow skims over them, black wings stirring a flurry of tension before he is gone, lost to the solemn grey above.

“This way,” the soldier orders, gruff but subdued.

She follows, boots crunching over the old pathways that weave into the city—streets she once oversaw, stone by stone. They coil inward, worn smooth by centuries of footsteps that tread both memory and oblivion into the stones. 

Her name spreads like wildfire, carried on breathless lips— Narien, Narien, Queen Narien has returned. Each repetition feels like a spark catching tinder, and she wonders if anyone ever truly gets used to being known again. To being seen.

When she’d left, she’d told herself they would forget her. That time would erase the shape of her name, her face, her deeds. A silly thing, really—the lies we tell ourselves to make leaving bearable.

[y-rhywbeth2]

Considering gemstones do have meanings and magical properties on Toril, I decided - while organising some kind of Faerûnian Crystal Bible for some reason - to look up what the sacred stones of the gods present in BG3 mean and do (the Dead Three, Shar, Selûne, Jergal, and Mystra).

So here's certain gods being boring; Why Bane announces he's pissed by throwing a broken carnelian at you; and maybe ideas for what gemstone Gale's earing is made of? idk.

Bhaal:

Is a boring bitch who doesn't have any sacred stones. Ffs dad, stop disappointing me. Impractical for sneaking around and stabbing people? What about organic materials? Bone? Bone jewellery? Is amber acceptable if it has a dead thing in it? It's tree blood! You love dead trees and you love blood! Coral? Jet?

Bane:

Black sapphire (approval), Red carnelian (disapproval), hematite, emerald, bloodstone

Black Sapphire: Locks time, preventing magic that tampers with it from functioning (time stop, for example). tbh I think Bane just likes them because they're very rare (thus luxury items) and, oh yeah, black.

Carnelian: Dreams of carnelian are believed to forewarn of danger to come, but the stone itself has protective magics against harm and evil. Which explains why Bane only considers them sacred when destroyed and informs his followers he's pissed at them by crushing them in front of their faces.

Hematite: 'prized by fighters and often used in magical periapts.' Such as periapts of healing. In case we forgot that the fighter of the trio prizes martial might and war.

Emerald: When somebody lies or hides their ill intentions/'concealed hatred' emeralds will break, essentially acting as lie detectors and alarms. 'many kings have worn rings carved entirely of emerald to parleys to detect treachery and deceit without the use of spells.' ...no comment.

Bloodstone: If laid over a wound it staunches the bleeding. It's used as currency on the Sword Coast, the Moonsea, and amongst mercenaries in particular. Serves as a component in invisibility and divination magic.

In conclusion, Bane's jewellery chest spells out 'paranoia.'

Myrkul:

Jet, obsidian, onyx

Jet: 'A deep black gemstone, this fancy stone is a tough variant of bituminous coal that can be facet cut and displayed either as a pendant or inset into a larger setting. It is the stone of mourning and sorrow in wealthy cities (such as those in Amn, Calimshan, and Sembia, as well as Waterdeep and Westgate), and remains a preferred material for magic jars, a use contributing to its fell reputation. Certain treatments of a jet stone (or specific spells cast too close to one) may well unintentionally free a furious, long-imprisoned mage or strange magic-wielding beast from its depths or summon a wizshade to the spot. Some such imprisoned beings can use their magic in limited ways to try to bring about their release but possession of their prison gemstones rarely gives one any influence over them.'

Onyx: 'Contact with onyx aids in safe, relatively painless childbirths, but the stone is otherwise considered unlucky.'

Obsidian: Nothing too fancy. It's magical properties are limited, but it's a material component in arcane variants of blade barrier and can be used to make an ioun stone. Waterdhavian parcel-binders make rings out of them that allow them to cut twine on their fingers for ease of work.)

We got it, you're a goth edgelord too.

Shar:

Minerals are a symptom of planets daring to exist and thus are sinful or something. idk, regardless Shar doesn't care to manifest as anything much past 'tentacles made of darkness.'

Selune:

Moonstone. She knows her theme and she's sticking with it.

Moonstone: Moonstone absorbs ambient light and will glow with faint white light in total darkness when all other lights are gone. Dreams of moonstone forewarn oncoming danger. Moonstone is useful as components in barrier magics, deflection of spells, and other abjurations.

Jergal:

Grandpa cares not for pretty trinkets. Or joy. Or anything that isn't personal amusement and the apocalypse. Grumpy bastard.

Mystra:

Rainbow tourmaline, amarantha, beljuril, blue and clear gems of any kind

Rainbow tourmaline: Absorbs magic, turns it into electricity, and then fires it back as a lightning bolt.

Amarantha: Or Shieldstone. A mineral unique to Toril that forms deep within the earth, typically mined from the Underdark. A sparkling jewel that comes in ‘greenish white or very pale green.’ The stone attracts, absorbs and stores ambient electricity. Normally this means static charge, but it can be used to protect against weaponised magical electric strikes, with the forewarning that the stone has limits and if it breaks from overload it may discharge all the electricity into everyone and everything around it.

Beljuril: Another mineral unique to Toil. Also known as 'fireflashils,' due to their tendency to periodically flash with blazing fluctuating light, described as 'dazzling' at night. Generally the stone is a deep, sea green, and is hard enough that cutting it will go through several sets of tools. Never found in sizes more than 5 inches in diameter. Beljurils replicate ambient heat, light and vibration (not disrupting or taking away from the actual surroundings), which is what causes them to light up when they discharge. They don't do much, but they are popular as security lights for the wealthy (as they will react to heat and movement in their vicinity).

Aventurine (blue): Used to penetrate magical disguises, as touching it will dispel illusions and shapeshifting.

Azurite: Absorbs heat in a fashion that prevents or mitigates harm from said heat. Calishites often wear azurite while dealing with fire, such as if cooking.

Iol (iolite): Has a strong symbolic association with magic in Faerûnian legends.

Diamond: Can be used as a universal ingredient for any form of spell ink. Well suited for divination magic. If worn at the throat or on the head it protects against seeing visions (as it prevents the individual from dreaming at all, making it useful to avoid nightmares too) and keeps one from being enchanted by others

Euclase: Explodes into a fireball if it comes into contact with magic.

Flurospar: Glows with a green radiance if there are invisible things/people nearby.

Sapphire: Widely used in the making of magical items, especially swords. Linked to magical prowess, the mind, and air (the element.) Protects against and soothes negative emotions, such as fear, despair, and corresponding mental illnesses.

There are a lot of blue and clear gemstones and I'm not listing them all, and I'm wondering if some gods don't have gemstones because somebody is hogging them all. Suffice to say they do something-something magic. Like glowing when somebody's scrying on you or exploding if you use the wrong spell. That kind of pattern.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine Part 4:

Rapper Erik and Y/N are official. How are they handling the new relationship?

“Tell us your name, gorgeous, and where you’re from and how we can connect with you.” 

She blushed into the camcorder with a bright white smile and dark brown eyes. 

“My name is Tasia. I’m from Houston. You can follow me on Instagram at Tasia Marie.”

The videographer panned Tasia’s body with the camcorder. Tasia gave him a sexy pose while seated in the back of a bright yellow 2023 Porsche 718 Cayman. She’s wearing a sage halter dress and her hair is styled in large knotless braids with sleek edges. 

“Tell us a little bit about Tasia.”

Tasia pondered with a cute smirk on her face. She giggled and licked her glossy lips before speaking. 

“I’m twenty eight years old. I love to dance and model. I’m a great cook. My sign is a Scorpio. I love to have fun and just…see the world, you know? Let’s get some stamps on our passports together.”

“I hear that! Now, you’re on set of E-rratic’s highly anticipated video shoot. He hand picked you to be his leading lady. How does that make you feel? Let the people know!” 

“I feel special. Not everyday an opportunity like this comes your way. I’ve been waiting for the moment to star in a video with GRIZZLEY. And plus, backseat interlude is on rotation right now so it’s only right.” 

The video set had a late night, city vibe with wet pavements and a low ambiance from the many colorful lights that illuminated the city of Tokyo. E-rratic wanted to take it up a notch and shoot his video in Tokyo, Japan; one of the places on his bucket list to travel to. He had an entire script to make it like a movie. KILL-OCHO is a wanted man by the Yakuza who wants revenge for coming into Tokyo and making a name for himself. He steals the lead member’s woman (Tasia) just because he could. It’s Tokyo drift meets street fighter. 

The first two days on set were about filming for his hit single titled ‘punisher’ and now he was ready to give a little sexy, steamy realness with back seat interlude. The fans were begging him to make a video for the short song so he secretly decided to add it in the video to please his fans. It was never his intention but he’s glad that he did it anyway. 

“Speak of the devil…”

E-rratic slid into the back seat of the Porsche next to Tasia with no shirt on, flaunting his muscular strength by picking her up and placing her within his lap. Tasia giggled and draped her slender arms around his neck. E-rratic smiled into the camcorder with his diamond-encrusted canines and dimples on display. Tasia couldn’t focus on anything around her except E-rratic. He had her in a trance. Thick, diamond chains hung from his tattoo-covered neck and diamond rings decorated his thick fingers. He smelled like money and looked like money. In Tasia’s mind, she couldn’t wait to taste the money on his plump lips. To even be within his personal space took a lot of strength to keep it together. In her mind, don’t no bitch want E-rratic as bad as she does. 

Not even his girl friend Y/N.

“What are we about to get into KING KILLMONGER? Let the fans know.”

E-rratic gave a deep chuckle that vibrated his chest. Tasia could feel the rumble and she shivered in his grasp. E-rratic turned to look at her, his obsidian eyes low and wanton. 

“This lucky girl gettin’ that exclusive treatment. We about to film back seat interlude. Gotta give the fans what they want, feel me?”

“And what’s that?” The videographer asked.

“Straight sexiness.” E-rratic replied.

Tasia blushes before pressing her face into E-rratic’s neck taking in a whiff of his Versace Dylan Blue cologne. He tapped the side of her hip to get her attention and Tasia discreetly gripped his hand to try and place it on her ass. This isn’t the first time she tried to get him to do something in between takes. 

“Looks like everything is a go. Y’all ready?”

Hype Williams walked over to the car to make sure everything was good to go before he called action. E-rratic gave him a thumbs up while positioning Tasia to straddle his lap. She playfully bounced on him, her ass jiggling out of control. 

“Aye, chill out,” E-rratic gave her a smirk but his tone was icy, “just do your part, girl. Sit and be pretty.”

Hype Williams walked away laughing. 

“That’s no fun,” Tasia whispered, “You know what I want.”

“Yeah, I know. And you ain’t getting it.” E-rratic replied with a hushed tone. 

“Not fair. I want what you gave that groupie on your tour bus…”

E-rratic ignored her and Tasia didn’t like that. She was going to get it out of him one way or another. 

“ACTION!”

We gon’ fuck for an hour then we gon’ move to the back seat…

The water on set came pouring down like rain over the car. A neon blue light covered their bodies causing the white of their teeth, the diamonds they were wearing, and the green of Tasia’s dress to pop. Kill pressed his lips against Tasia’s ear as if he were sensually whispering the lyrics of the song to her. As if it were his own words serenading her. Tasia arched her back and combed her nails through E-rratic’s locs. 

Watch how I blow that back out make yo’ pretty ass tap out…

Tasia looked into the camera with a seductive gaze while E-rratic continued to spit his explicit lyrics. His hands dragged from her back to her ass where he cuffed her booty for extra emphasis on the back he was going to blow out. Tasia started grinding her hips in E-rratics lap and biting her lip. 

Fat ass on you girl I had to take that pussy in the back of my Audi 

Got your face down and that ass to the north (damn that arch is nice)

“CUT!”

E-rratic gave Tasia a little push and she slid off of his lap and to the seat next to him. E-rratic climbed out and walked off for a smoke break so Tasia could have some screen time alone. She’s supposed to flaunt in front of the camera while the song plays in the background for added sexiness. As the camera zoomed in to her, Tasia moved her body in time to the lyrics. When E-rratic said to arch your back, she was face down, ass up in the back seat with her tiny dress almost revealing the lack of underwear. 

E-rratic entered his trailer and cracked the door behind him. He took a seat in front of his vanity where his weed and pre-rolled blunts are. After taking a swig of alkaline water, Erratic sparked up a blunt. Blunt hanging between his thick lips, he pulled up his special girl’s number and FaceTimed her back at the hotel. After the third ring, she  answered with a towel wrapped around her body and her expensive bundles clipped to the top of her head so it wouldn’t get wet. 

“Hey, baby girl. I miss you.”

“Mhm. Not enough if you’re not here with me right now.” Y/N replied. 

E-rratic’s eyes roamed over her body covered in a fluffy white towel. The amount of soft, brown skin that teased him was enough to make him go back to her. She gave him a look with an arched brow, challenging him to come to her and that was E-rratic’s favorite look. He loved it when Y/N got sassy with him. It let him know she wanted to get fucked harder. Longer. With his long dick. He chuckled when she turned around to tease him, bending over in the camera and shaking her ass from left to right. 

“You know daddy got work to do. I thought you said you love that I’m a hard worker?”

“I do, but it’s going on day three of this shit and I haven’t been able to properly enjoy you.” 

“Whatchu ‘bout to do?” E-rratic leaned into the camera with his blunt between his fingers, “Don’t do nothing that’s gonna get you in trouble, sexy. Thought I told you that pussy is off limits when I’m away? Don’t be hard headed.”

“Or what?” Y/N spoke defiantly, “Because you’re all the way over there, and I’m here. Can’t discipline me through the phone, Erik.”

“You talk so much shit and when I show up you sing a different tune. But I love it though, you real cute, baby.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and made herself comfortable on the edge of their hotel bed to apply some vanilla oil to her skin. 

“Is that chick behaving herself or do I have to pull up?”

E-rratic’s intense stare and slight smirk distracted her for a second. She smiled at him before blowing him a kiss and licking her top lip lustily. 

“I got it under control. You know the ladies love E-rratic. How do you think I got you?”

He gave her a charming, dimpled smile.

“How many times do I have to remind you that you belong to me now and those bitches don’t stand a chance?” 

“You right. And you already know where I stand. So don’t waste your energy on these hoes. It’s me and you.” 

“Actions speak louder than words…”

E-rratic could sense the lack of confidence in her voice. Clearly, no amount of words will make her feel any better. It’s what comes with the lifestyle. E-rratic is a wanted man. No matter where he goes, some chick will throw themselves at him. They drop the panties for him, take off their bras for him, cheat on their men for him, risk it all to get some of that dick from him. That’s just how it is. It’s been years since he’d been in a committed relationship. He never imagined himself being where he is right now with Y/N; a fan. Respectfully, she’s more than a fan to him. He couldn’t explain it, but it was something about her. She had something that he couldn’t resist. 

“And haven’t I proven to you that I’m all about you?” E-rratic said, tilting his head into the camera. 

“Yes,” Y/N peered at him through her lashes, “Maybe I still can’t believe that I’m with you.”

“You’re rare, baby. I can’t believe the hold you have on me too. You know what I can’t stop thinking about?”

Y/N got comfortable on her side, one hand holding the front of her towel while the other propped her head up. The curve of her hip beneath that towel had E-rratic’s mouth watering. 

“What’s that?”

“…How you woke me up this morning with my dick in your mouth. Those pretty brown eyes staring up at me.”

“I could use some dick in my mouth right now if you were here with me,” Y/N said.

“Just your mouth?” E-rratic replied with faux shock, voice holding a bit of rasp.

“Of course not. That’s just the beginning. This pussy too.” 

“Mhm,” E-rratic took a hit from his blunt, allowing the purple haze strain to crowd his senses, “Daddy’s pretty pussy?”

Y/N gave him a sluggish nod of her head with a tantalizing bite of her lower lip. 

“I’ve been thinking about that phat pussy all day. That shit is mine.” 

“All yours,” Y/N said with a giggle.

“I got some time to kill, take that towel off and show me that pussy.”

E-rratic didn’t waste time. He sat up in his seat, pecks jumping and ab muscles flexing. Y/N couldn’t see his lower half that well, only the band to his white Calvin Klein’s. That brought her back to his recent Calvin Klein ad. Y/N made herself comfortable on her back facing the camera. She took the towel off and spread her legs to reveal her wet pussy to E-rratic. His deep grunt sent shivers down her spine.

“I want that pussy in my mouth so bad right now. First thing ima do when I get back is stick my tongue so far up your pussy…Fuuck.”

Y/N spread her lips for him so he could get a better look at how soaked she is for him. The contrast of her designer acrylics against the smooth, glistening flesh of her folds almost had him foaming at the mouth. 

“When I get to you, I’m a have you crying.”

“You know I can’t wait for that. You can find me ready and in position on the couch as soon as you get here.”

“Hmm…it’s like that?” E-rratic grabbed his crotch.

“All for you, Erik.”

“I love it when you say my name…it just rolls off your tongue all sexy and shit,” E-rratic smirked, “You gon’ moan my name?”

“Moan, sing, shout, all that,” Y/N replied. 

“That’s a good girl—give me a second, I’m coming—they want me back on set—”

“They can wait.” 

Y/N brought two wet fingers to her mouth to lick her juices off. E-rratic watched her with so much concentration. He slowly licked his lips as if he were the one enjoying her taste. If he could lick the screen and sample a taste, he would. 

“Aren’t you so lucky that you get to have all of this?” Y/N said.

“Shit, aren’t you so lucky that you get to sit on my face like it’s your personal seat?”

The thought alone had Y/N rubbing circles on her clit. Her head went back and she let out soft moans that bounced off of the walls of his trailer. 

“Can’t believe your favorite rapper eats that pussy up, huh?” E-rratic strained his neck to see if anyone was waiting outside of his trailer, “Got me talkin’ crazy right now…”

“Please hurry up, I need you,” Y/N moaned.

“I promise…hey…look at me…get your fingers off my pussy…I promise I’ll come straight to you when I’m done.”

Y/N kisses her teeth and to both of their disappointment, she closes her legs and sits up on the bed. Full titties with stiff nipples met his eyes and it didn’t make things better. The way his dick throbbed, you would think it was ready to burst through his zipper. The ache was uncomfortable and he didn’t know how he was going to be able to conceal a brick hard dick from Tasia. Have her thinking a torpedo is ready to blast off up her pussy with how hard he is. 

“Aight, we gotta behave ourselves. Go put on a robe and order yourself something to eat. Give me another hour and I’ll be right to you, baby girl. We can fuck with Joshi Luck on in the background.”

Y/N gave E-rratic an adorable pout with sad eyes. He picked up his phone and puckered his lips to give her a couple kisses through the phone. She wasn’t going to be satisfied until he came back to that hotel. He already knew that she was going to make herself cum at least twice. 

“You’re gon’ be a good girl for me?” E-rratic questioned. 

“I promise.” Y/N replied innocently.

“Aight, we’ll see. I’ll hit you when I’m on the way.” 

E-rratic ended the FaceTime and left his trailer so he could get this shit over with. As he walked back to set, he had to keep internally reminding himself to get Y/N off his brain until this was all over. 

_________________________________

How could Y/N describe what being with E-rratic felt like?

Euphoric

Like a dream

Perfect

Her fantasy made into reality 

The greatest feeling in the world

Not one word could perfectly express how she felt being with Erik. Her Erik. E-rratic Leader was her man. Saying that felt so unreal. Thinking about it felt like she was living a fictional life. She couldn’t begin to explain how happy she was. She never thought she’d see herself laid up in his hotel bed in another country wearing an iced-out Cuban link with her name on it or a diamond tennis anklet with his given name on it. 

Just three months after the tour, everything happened so fast. Was this how it was supposed to be? Was this what God had planned for her? Y/N resigned from her full time job, packed her bags—even though he got her a whole new wardrobe—and moved to LA. After the first half of the tour leg, Erik asked her to be his official girl. Y/N said yes before he could even get his words out. She told her family and friends, despite some of their disappointment. Her mother was the hardest to convince. Her father’s opinion didn’t really matter to her since he’s hardly in her life. Her sisters and cousins were nothing but judgmental, and her friends were protective. 

Still, every morning when she wakes up in his California king bed wrapped in luxury sheets with the highest thread count, she can’t believe that she’s sleeping next to E-rratic. Sharing a home with E-rratic. Driving his cars, eating food prepared by his personal chef, working out with his personal trainer, meeting his celebrity friends, and shopping with his money. She didn’t have to lift a finger. He had her set with racks. She could wake up and find five bands sitting on the side table next to the bed for her. He loved giving her bouquets of roses in different colors wrapped with individual bills. 

Whatever Erik wanted, she gave him no questions asked. That’s what comes with treating your woman right. Dick in mouth, ass in the air, pussy for the taking. She wore what he liked, styled her hair how he liked, got her nails done how he liked. Before their trip to Tokyo, Y/N got his name tatted on her hip and her clit pierced with a golden topaz and titanium ring to match the nipple piercings. She planned to do her tongue next. 

Everywhere they went, he would assert his dominance with his arm around her waist and his hand resting on her hip. He’d introduce her as his woman with such confidence and the biggest ego. So why did Y/N feel like it was all temporary? That he would find interest in some other girl and drop her back off to Detroit. It was all too surreal to believe it would last. Y/N dreamed of this. She was satisfied with just one opportunity with him, but to have him every single day, whenever and wherever, it blew her fucking mind. 

With new fame came controversy. Y/N went from 2K followers on Instagram to 1.5 million. She had to limit her comments to avoid an influx of rude, nasty people and she had to stay off of Twitter. Don’t even get her started on the blogs. The blogs were eating her up. Groupie. Hoe. One of many to have E-rratic. Some say it won’t last, others say she won’t be the same when her heart gets broken. She had to block all of them too. 

“When you let the shit people say get to you, it controls your life. You gotta ignore the bullshit.” 

E-rratic knew first hand what it was like. He had to learn to live his life the way he wanted and not how people watching him wanted him to be. He wanted the same for Y/N. 

“This shit is new for me too. I want it to work. I really like you, Y/N. Hell, I think I love you. It feels like love. You love me?” 

The feelings she felt for him ran deeper than him being her favorite rapper. She felt as if he were her soulmate. That God sent him to her. It was more than being with her celebrity crush. She got to know him. Not E-rratic. Erik. Erik Stevens. Born and raised in Oakland, CA. A parentless child at the age of twelve. Living with his grandparents and getting into trouble. In and out of jail. So smart he got a full ride to M.I.T. How he met the love of his life in school and how she was going to have his baby before it was all taken away from him. How he turned to music as an outlet to keep his mind right. She felt honored and special to know all of that about him. 

After eating her Japanese wagyu steak dinner and drinking some of Erik’s Japanese Whiskey, she fixed her hair and put on her YSL Cassandra Sandals in black patent. Y/N put on a little makeup with a bold red lip and put on Erik’s new album. She loved it. He was in his producer bag for sure. Some of the best music to come out recently. She already knew he was going to sweep at the Grammys. The imposing beats that gave way to nostalgic bops and transitioned into sexy instrumentals just showed how diverse he was. The lyrics hit every time for her. This was true art to her. 

Take off the top, baby let’s ride

She want the boss, the one own the tribe

Arm out the window, just throw it when we ride….

His voice, the energy he was giving off, the sexy beat, the background vocals of a woman moaning. It was all too much. 

I told her “I ain’t GRIZZLEY, baby, call me SEX.” 

If you my hoe, I call you sexy (yeahhh) 

I wanna see what you got inside

Can you make it say ahhh

Turn on yo side

While I switch lanes to pull over to the side

I promise it won’t hurt

Unless you make it hurt (yeahhh) 

You know them other niggas can’t do it like this (yeahhh) 

The lyrics to backseat interlude had her feeling herself. She knew that she was supposed to wait for him to get there, but she was naked and horny and listening to his voice couldn’t keep her under control. Y/N made herself comfortable on the couch and placed her glass of whiskey on the table. She got down on her back with her legs spread open and resumed rubbing her clit. To her surprise, she was still wet from their FaceTime. The song had slowly faded in the background and Y/N paused to play it again.

Y/N took a deep breath and relaxed. She closed her eyes. If Erik were there with her, he would be instructing her on how to touch herself. He’d tell her to start off slow and steady while rubbing her clit. To follow the speed of his soothing voice. She mimicked the speed of his voice on backseat interlude. She could feel her nipples hardening beneath the cool air of the hotel room. In her mind, she was envisioning herself sitting between his legs in front of a mirror while his hand did all the work and she sat there like a good girl. 

“Erik…Erik…Erik…”

Two fingers slipped inside and with her other hand she continued to rub her clit. She brought her knees to her chest and moaned his name over and over again. The song had stopped but she was already close to cumming so it didn’t matter anymore. 

“Fuck, I can’t wait to have your big dick inside of me…”

The anticipation was killing her. Every time with Erik felt like the first time. He was made to control her body. The way they’re bodies are in sync is both scary and amazing. He didn’t have to tell her how he liked it anymore, she knew what to do. From the kitchen, to the bathroom, to the floor, to the bed, she knew how to take his dick in every position possible. 

“I’m so wet…I can’t believe how wet I am…”

Hee fingers were damn near slipping into a puddle of arousal whenever her fingers would pump inside of her. Her clit was so ridged beneath the pads of her fingers. She desperately needs his tongue to replace all of this. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck, fuck, shit…”

Hee inner thighs began to quake out of control and her body seized up like she was frozen in ice. Her mouth fell open with surprise and all she could feel seeping between her meaty thighs was her cum. A small puddle formed beneath her. Y/N inspected her fingers and there was cum dripping down to the palm of her hand. She cleaned her digits off and sat up on the couch, tacky skin sticking to the leather sofa. 

Hee phone vibrated next to her and when she noticed his name she picked it up and answered. 

“Open the door for daddy.”

____________________________

E-rratic gave BIG WILL the evening off and sent him to his room. There was no need for him to guard the door. E-rratic was rummaging in his jeans pockets, he realized that he left his key card back at the trailer on set. E-rratic pulled out his phone and called Y/N. She answered on the first ring.

“Open the door for daddy.” 

She hung up in his ear and E-rratic could hear her foot steps rushing to the door. She opened it wearing a robe and E-rratic rushed inside and slammed the door behind him. He pressed his much larger body against her small, soft one and Y/N ended up with her back against the wall across from the door and her arms above her head. E-rratic interlocked his fingers with hers to keep her in place while his skillful tongue slithered into her mouth hot and heavy. E-rratic brought one hand down to open her robe while the other hand gripped both of her hands. 

“You smell like sugar and sweat…you played with my pussy while I was gone?”

Y/N was so enraptured with him being there that she didn’t respond. E-rratic smoothed his hand down her stomach until his fingers were separating her outer lips to investigate for himself. He smiled slightly as his eyes bore into hers.

“And I can taste that Suntory Hibiki on your tongue. Turning up without daddy?”

E-rratic removed his fingers from between her legs and gripped her chin.

“You can’t speak now?” He said with an arch of his brow.

“I couldn’t help myself.” She finally spoke. 

“What I tell you? Hm?” 

Y/N looked E-rratic up and down.

“Okay…okay…I see what you want…let’s go.” 

E-rratic grabbed Y/N by the waist and they walked to the bathroom. Inside, E-rratic instructed Y/N to take off her robe and undress him. She removed her fluffy robe and walked up to him, taking off his white T-shirt first. She noticed a lipstick stain on it and her eyes locked with his. He followed her finger and when he saw the stain he kissed his teeth.

“From set. She must’ve done that while we were filming in the car.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. 

“C’mon Lil mama. You know I ain’t get down like that.”

E-rratic planted a kiss to her cheek.

“You tryna ruin the moment. I ain’t seen you all day.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N tugged on the hem of his T-shirt, “Maybe I should have been your video girl instead…”

E-rratic smirked at her before lifting her chin so she could look up at him.

“Say the word and I’ll do this shit all over again. I’ll make you the leading lady.”

Y/N took a moment to think about it, but ultimately she shook her head.

“Nah, that’s more money and time put in. She just better watch herself before I snatch her ass up.”

“You sure?” E-rratic tucked his chin and gave her a serious look, “I’m good for it, you already know that.” 

“I’m sure. Now, where were we?”

E-rratic licked his lips, “That’s my baby girl. Finish what you started…”

Y/N continued to remove E-rratic’s T-shirt. The more skin revealed, the more she would kiss and lick him all over. When the shirt fell to the floor, Y/N locked eyes with E-rratic while taking off his pants. He watched her with a look in his eyes like he wanted to eat her up. When his briefs were the last to go, Y/N cupped his sack in her hand and got onto her top toes to get a kiss. Their tongues danced and their lips made sloppy wet noises the more they molded into each other. 

Y/N took off his briefs and the way his dick was looking semi hard had her ready to suck it until it was fully solid in her jaws. E-rratic chuckled at her expression and turned to get into the standing shower with multiple jets. Y/N grabbed her claw clip and joined him, not caring that she had already taken a shower before. The warm water painted their skin and Y/N grabbed a soap sponge to clean him off. She started with his back, sudsing him up real good, amazed at how the soap tricked down his spine to his toned ass. 

When he turned to face her, she got down on her knees and dragged the sponge down his torso and then squeezed soap all over his thick pole. She went to clean his legs and feet and when she came back up to his dick and balls, she used the sponge first to clean him, then she used her hands to stroke the soap all over his shaft. E-rratic looked down at her through the curtain of locs that framed his forehead. Water trickled down his body tantalizingly until his dick was free of soap. 

“Suck this dick,” E-rratic commanded.

Y/N opened her mouth and wrapped her greedy lips around the tip of his dick. She went lower, her eyes never leaving his, until he was at the back of her throat. She closed her eyes to fight back the tears and removed her mouth, his dick with a string of spit dangling in front of her. She used her tongue to massage the sides of his shaft. She used her lips like a suction for his nut sack just so she could hear him groan.

“This my fucking dick,” She moaned.

“Then make your dick cum,” E-rratic spoke with a gruff tone, “Do what I like. No hands, all mouth, lots of spit. Make that shit nasty.”

Y/N engulfed his dick again and started bobbing her head up and down while her hand massaged his heavy sack. She squeezed his sack to keep him still and the more she did that, the harder he became in her mouth. So hard to the point where she couldn’t suck him all the way down with ease anymore. The vein on the underside of his shaft made it more difficult. She used her tongue to flick the deep vein and he hissed. 

“Do that shit, baby, Gahdamn,” E-rratic’s brows drew together, “Fuuck, I’m gonna bust…”

Y/N was showing out. The slurping grew louder and E-rratic’s thighs started shaking. His fingers turned into fists and he threw his head back. All she could see was that perfect body and the length of his neck. Pre-cum mixed with her saliva covered his dick and she would slurp it up and spit it back out to make it as sloppy as she could.

“Stay on that tip…just like that…I’m gonna fuck you so good…SHITTTT!” 

His ass muscles tightened and a stream of cum hit the back of her throat. He stared down at her with disbelief. 

“You the only bitch to make a nigga nut like he been backed up for days…where you been all my life? Wish I would’ve wifed you up…”

Her eyes sparkled when he said that. He avoided touching her hair and reached for her hands. He helped her to her feet and immediately pressed his lips against hers. 

“Let me wash you off now…”

E-rratic took the sponge and applied soap to it. He made her turn around so that her back was facing him and she placed her hands on the shower wall. He started at her shoulders, then he rubbed circles into her back with the sponge. His dick was sitting between her cheeks and his lips were pressed against her ear. After he washed her ass and then dragged the sponge around to the front, cleaning her breasts and squeezing the sponge so that soap could run down her body. 

“You look good with my name tatted on your hip.” E-rratic whispered, “That let’s me know that it’s real.”

Y/N released a sigh of pleasure when E-rratic replaced the sponge with a soft rag and some sensitive wash to clean her pussy. With one hand he held her lips open while he gently cleansed her inner folds, careful not to get her piercing caught on the rag. When he was finished, he placed the rag on the side of the shower and turned her around to face him. 

“Get your pretty ass in the room so I can have my way with you,” E-rratic whispered against her lips, “All night long, girl.”

_________________________

E-rratic had turned the lights off in the room and on the flat screen, wall-mounted TV, he resumed the Hentai they were watching the night before. Joshi Luck episode four titled ‘raw’. That’s how he was getting into that pussy tonight. The episode started off with big anime titties. E-rratic, still wearing his chains, was standing at the foot of the bed, his eyes on Y/N who has her ass in the air. She’s looking back at him over her shoulder, bouncing her ass in his face. 

He got behind her and put his face in her pussy from behind. Not wasting any time, E-rratic started sucking her pussy from the back with both hands on her ass cheeks to keep them spread. The sound of slurping and sucking  from the hentai and E-rratic had Y/N dripping on his tongue like she sprung a leak. She sat up on one hand and reached behind her to grab the back of his head. She dragged her ass up and down his face and he poked his tongue out so she could ride his tongue.

He could never get over the taste of her. That’s why any chance he gets, he has his mouth between her legs. 

I want it like this now,” E-rratic got down on his back, “Get up here.” 

Giggling, Y/N climbed over his face and dropped her pussy into his mouth. His eyes never left hers and she loved the way he looked below her. Y/N gripped him by his locs and started grinding her hips in slow motion. E-rratic followed her movements with his tongue all over her slit. She bounced her titties in her hands to give him a show and moaned his name. Behind her, his dick was saluted to the ceiling. A hard pipe to sink onto. She reached behind her to stroke him. 

“That dick is so hard. You gonna fuck me good with this, daddy?”

He responded with his lips sucking her jeweled clit between his lips. Y/N let out a string of loud moans. 

“The wetter I am, the better it will feel when I’m on that dick,” Y/N looked down at him, “Hurry up and make me cum.”

E-rratic frowned at her and Y/N knew what that look meant. He was going to give her exactly what she wanted and she better not run. He could feel her body tightening up above him. He couldn’t speak with a mouth full of pussy, but she knew to stay right on his mouth. Her beautiful face contorted with uncontrollable emotions and the hold he had on her hips took a lot of strength. His biceps flexed and the veins in his hands almost popped. 

“FUCK DADDY!”

He finally let her go and she fell to her back. Wet beard and all, E-rratic stood up and cuffed her legs over his shoulders, dragging her along the bed, taking the sheets with him. Wet, pounding sounds from the hentai caught their attention briefly. When he turned back to look at her, a dangerous look in his eyes, he grabbed his big dick at the base and thrust into her. 

“You cum in my mouth like that? Huh?!” 

“Shit!” Y/N shouted.

“It’s wet just how I like it,” E-rratic snapped his hips into hers repeatedly.

The overwhelming pleasure had her lost for words. E-rratic didn’t let up. His dick was hitting spots inside of her she couldn’t explain. 

“Oh, daddy, fuck, how did it get so far inside of me?!”

“Look for yourself, lift your head up and look!”

She tried but it was too much. The muscles in her body seemed to shut down. She felt tingly and weak all over. 

“Hard headed, I said look,” E-rratic cuffed the back of her head, “You listen when I tell you to do something!”

She did her best, lip quivering and all. He would put all that dick inside of her and whenever he pulled out, it would only be a little bit so she could still feel his length. His many iced-out chains clattered against each other with his movements. Whenever he leaned over her body to suck her nipples, her knees would be to her ears and that dick would be balls deep. 

The girth, the tip of his dick hitting the back of her pussy, his halls slapping her ass, the way he moved his hips, she couldn’t take it all at once. 

“Squeeze this dick like that again,” E-rratic spoke close to her ear, “I’ll fuck this hole all night just to feel that shit again.”

“I’m gonna squirt!” 

“Oh yeah?!” 

He sat up so he could see for himself. Y/N slapped his chest to get him to slow down because the constant in and out over her g-spot was too much for her. It started sounding like he was splashing into a puddle and then soon she was squirting all over him. He withdrew his hips and replaced them with his fingers. Up and down he stroked that spot to get her to squirt again and this time she went into a shaking fit.

“Mm-Mm,” E-rratic maneuvered her body so she was arched, “Ass up. Don’t act like you can’t take any more dick.”

She got on her hands and knees and arched as best as she could. E-rratic smoothed her hair from her face so he could watch her expressions. 

“Don’t run. Y/N…ASS-UP.” 

He was growing impatient. Groaning and all.

“What I say?” He chuckled but it was out of frustration, “Girl…I wore you out that much? I’m just getting started. One squirt got you tapping out? You should see your back right now…”

She started straight ahead at her reflection. 

“Let me get the whiskey.”

She collapsed onto her stomach. E-rratic laughed the whole way into the lounge area to grab a couple of glasses and the bottle of Japanese whiskey. Back in the room, he tapped her on the ass to sit up and he poured her a fresh glass of whiskey. He looked from the glass in his hand to the bottle before shrugging his shoulders and drinking straight from the bottle. 

“Drink it all the way down, that’s it,” E-rratic bent his head down and stuck his tongue out to lick her neck, “mmmm…you want some more?”

“Yes,” She held her glass up.

“Daddy was deep in that pussy for real?”

Y/N nodded her head.

“I’m taking it from the back now.”

Y/N finished her second glass, “I think I’m good and turnt now for more.” She smiled up at him.

E-rratic took one more swig of his whiskey and he sat the bottle down next to the TV. Y/N got into position with her back arched low and E-rratic inspected her position, deeming it good enough with a slap to her ass. 

“You know your back arched deep when that pussy open from the back,” E-rratic tapped his dick on Y/N’s clit, “You know I wrote a song about you, right?”

He didn’t give her time to respond when he entered her from behind. She gripped the sheets and looked back at him. He locked eyes with her and with only his hips he fucked her, her ass moving like a tidal wave. She could feel him in her stomach. Her eyes went low and she spaced out. E-rratic pressed both hands into her back and cranked that pussy from behind. She could feel the pressure from his hands deep against her back and she couldn’t move.

“I got you now,” He bit down on his lip, “Keep that pussy in the air just like that.” 

“Oh my god,” Y/N felt tears brimming her eyes, “You fuck me so good I swear.” 

E-rratic smiled at her with his canines gleaming in the dark. 

“You throwing it back now? Ahhh shit,” E-rratic slapped her ass from one cheek to the next, “Bounce that ass!”

She couldn’t see the mess she was making on his dick and he wished she could. It was beautiful. 

“I love you,” Y/N said between moans.

“I love you too, mamas,” E-rratic replied. 

He meant it. 

“Aight, daddy ‘bout to cum. Fuck the tip.” 

His hands gripped her ass tightly while she slowly bounced on just the tip. 

“Shiittt, got my shit leaking, ugh,” E-rratic thrust all the way inside of her, “Take all that nut.” 

He groaned and Y/N could feel him throbbing inside of her. As her pussy throbbed, his dick was doing the same. He slowly slipped out and Y/N pushed his cum out so he could see how much he’d emptied inside of her. He used his fingers to push it back in before Y/N grabbed him by the wrist to lick them clean. 

“Tell me about this song you wrote?” She batted her lashes at him while licking his fingers.

“It’s called my only fan. You really emptied the clip!” E-rratic laughed in disbelief.

Y/N sat up and grabbed E-rratic by the hips. He looked down at her and stroked her hair from her face with his knuckles, the cold diamonds of his rings causing her to shiver. 

“I’m you’re number one?” Y/N asked.

“My one and only.” 

________________________________

“The video shoot was cool. Y’all saw the pictures. It was giving relationship!” 

“Listen, the amount of tea I have on E-rratic and how he was all over me in Tokyo. His girlfriend won’t know what hit her.” 

Tasia Marie was trending all over social media with the piping hot tea she spilled on E-rratic Leader. Her Instagram live went viral along with a few photos from Tokyo. The first photo that she posted was of her straddling E-rratic’s lap in the back of the Porsche. The second photo was of her holding his room key card. The final photo was of her laying on her back inside of his trailer. 

“He brought his girl to Tokyo and kept her inside that hotel the entire time. While I was on set getting it in with her man, she was at that hotel crying for help.” 

“It’s like she forgot who her man is. The ladies love E-rratic. Why do y’all think he hand picked me to be in the video and not her?” 

A popular podcast was trending on social media as well. The podcast is called Bri and Summer. Bri and Summer are two influencers and models who are best friends and came together to start a podcast discussing current topics. It’s nothing original about it, but as soon as the topic became about E-rratic, everyone wanted to know what they had to say:

“This your girl Brianna here!” 

“And this is summer!”

“And welcome to Bri and Summer Podcast!” 

Brianna kicked it off and didn’t hold back.

“Let’s get into the tea! Y’all know I don’t play around, I get straight to the mess. So, E-rratic is being E-rratic once again, chile! What’s new? He’s a hoe.”

Summer started laughing.

“You can’t tell me his girlfriend—if that’s even what you want to call her—thought that she was special? Somebody give her a hug!”

Summer chimed in, “Your man not too long ago was doing a fan like Melvin did Juanita!” 

“He has community dick!,” Brianna argued, “That nigga got y’all bitches reciting lyrics to backseat interlude with y’all pussies barking. I would never let that nigga hit!”

“Hold on now, hold on,” Their male guest from time to time, DJ Quick, cut Brianna off, “Weren’t you one of those girls? Didn’t you go on a date with OCHO some years back?”

“Okay, okay! Let me clear the air! I did go on ONE date with him. ONE. It was cool, I guess. He took me to this fancy Korean barbecue spot in Atlanta and then we went for a drive in one of his sports cars. Wasn’t nothing happening. That was it.”

“Nah,” DJ Quick laughed, “You are really giving off salty vibes, Bri! Did that man diss you or something? He wasn’t feeling it the way you were so now you’re out for blood?”

“Quick, first of all, it’s definitely the other way around. He wanted some of this ass and I said no. He wasn’t feeling it so he dropped me off back at my hotel and blocked me.”

“Damn, that’s messed up,” Summer said.

“Right?! And yet, y’all acting so surprised by the tea Tasia is spilling! Granted, yes, she a groupie just like the next bitch, but I wish y’all beautiful black women would wake the fuck up! E-rratic is not the end all be all.”

“Brianna, if E-rratic and you were in a room by yourself, you telling me that you wouldn’t fold?” DJ Quick argued.

“NO! I’d rather swallow glass before I let that man hit.”

“I heard he was a great lover,” Summer giggled, “I don’t know… I’d let him hit.”

“There you go! Y’all gotta let go of the fantasy. This girlfriend of his from what I gathered, was another crazed fan who got a lucky opportunity to go on tour with him. He’s having fun with her now, but it won’t last. It never does…

If things could take a turn for the worse, it would happen to Y/N. The Tokyo trip was a dream turned into a nightmare as soon as she touched back down in LA. That bitch from her man’s video went to the internet to spread tea about hooking up with Erik. At first, Y/N didn’t believe it, but the pressure got to her, and she started to question everything. Where he was going and with whom? Why was that lipstick stain really on his T-shirt? Is it more than one girl or just her?

Of course he’s pissed. The music video was out and at 100 million views in less than five days, but he knew most of those views were because of the drama. This one proved hard to debunk because he has a reputation of being a ladies man. Before Y/N, he was single and free to do whatever he wanted, SAFELY. All that mess about raw sex with different women was an absolute lie. All the other chicks except for Brianna had never badmouthed him. And Brianna is just a bitter bitch who didn’t get a taste. Now Tasia is spreading lies just because she took a few photos. 

He wasn’t going to feed into her trap. She knew he could air her shit out but he chose to ignore her childish antics and press on. The old E-rratic would have been the real villain and ruined her life. Despite her opinion of him, Erik’s fame continued to grow. Y/N didn’t think she would find herself getting into heated arguments with Erik about his whereabouts but here she was on set of a photo shoot sitting in a chair and keeping an eye on him. She never thought she would come to this, but the level of embarrassment she felt from what people were saying about her online got to her. 

She couldn’t avoid her friends and family calling her to check in on her. Her mother kept questioning if she was making the right decision being with Erik. As soon as her mother starts to come around, this drama pops up. 

“Miss Y/N, can I get you anything to drink?”

Erik’s assistant, Kiesha, a fine ass full-figured woman walked over to her with a bottle of alkaline water, a brand that E-rratic had a partnership with. 

“Thank you, Kiesha.”

“Let me know if you need anything else. E told me to keep an eye on you.” 

Y/N looked at Kiesha with a curious look, “Why’d he tell you to do that?”

“I don’t know. Just Erik being Erik.” Kiesha laughs.

Oh, so he’s Erik to you now? 

“Oh, okay,” Y/N placed the unopened bottle on a table next to her, “Thanks.” 

Kiesha smiled at her before walking away. Y/N glared at the back of her head. Why was she acting so fucking weird? Ever since Y/N started coming on video and photo shoot sets with Erik, Kiesha has been moving funny. That bitch better get it together before she ends up on her ass. 

Erik was currently doing a shoot for his collaboration with Nike. In just a couple of months, his own Nike Dunk shoe will drop. Y/N was currently wearing a pair with a brown, blue, and green colorway. 

Erik was looking too good. Fresh retwist, skin smooth and covered in tattoos, dimples deep whenever he cracked a smile, dressed down in the best shit his stylist could pull together. Y/N couldn’t stay mad at him for too long. Or could she?

Here comes Kiesha with water for Erik. She even unscrewed the cap for him and fed him some water. Erik thanked her and went back to posing. Y/N sat up in her seat and her eyes were on Kiesha like a hawk. What the fuck does she think she’s doing?

“Let me know when you need something, E!!”

E? Bitch…

“Kiesha! Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Y/N’s blood was boiling.

Kiesha sauntered over to her with that same smile she wanted to slap off her face.

“Yes, sweetie?”

Y/N did a double take.

“It’s Y/N. Uhhh, what’s this with you feeding Erik water?”

“Oh, aha, you know, just helping him out,” Kiesha smirked, “Why?”

“Why? Because I don’t like you doing that. He has two hands. He can do it himself.”

“Not while holding the merchandise. Erik—”

“E-rratic.”

Kiesha chuckles, “Mr. E-rratic gets the utmost treatment. I’m just being a good assistant.”

“You don’t need to do all of that. If he wants water fed to him, I’ll do it.” 

They started gaining attention from other people on set. Y/N was past the point of giving a fuck. Too often these bitches stepped out of line. And the nerve of Kiesha to do it in front of her.

“He instructed you to stay here. Are you sure that’s okay?” 

Y/N blinked at Kiesha like she lost her damn mind. Kiesha raised her brows at Y/N as if she were over exaggerating. 

“I’ll speak to him myself to confirm that.” Y/N said with a faux chipper tone.

Kiesha walked away without another word and Y/N sat in her seat fuming. She needed to take a second before she did something reckless. Climbing out of her seat, Y/N walked off set. As she was leaving, she spotted Kiesha talking closely with Erik. Erik looked up and caught Y/N’s eye, his face holding a stony expression. She picked up the pace of her movements and entered his trailer. Taking a seat at his vanity, she exhaled and closed her eyes. 

Did she over exaggerate? Was Keisha just doing her job? Whenever Erik does his boxing sessions with his personal trainer, there’s a woman who feeds him water through a squirt bottle. Maybe she was being overly paranoid. Maybe Kiesha wasn’t trying to hit on her man. After all, Kiesha knew Erik before Y/N. She’s his assistant. That has to be enough to be on a first name basis right? 

“You got something you wanna tell me, Y/N?” 

Y/N opened her eyes to find Erik staring at her through the vanity with his arms folded across his chest. He looked pissed.

“Not really if Kiesha already told you everything.” 

“I wanna hear it from you.” 

“Why?” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Because I said so. And because we need to talk.”

Y/N avoided his gaze. Erik walked up to her and placed his hands on the back of the chair. He leaned forward so that his lips were directly next to her ear. 

“Well? What’s up?” 

Y/N jerked her knee frustratingly, “I didn’t like the way she fed you water.” 

“My hands were tied up, Y/N. How was I supposed to drink the water?” Erik questioned.

“And she's going to you saying shit like I’m some child. All I did was tell her I didn’t like it and if you wanted water I could do it.” 

“You’re not always on set with me, Kiesha is. Kiesha been my assistant since day one. We grew up together, I trust her.” 

Y/N clicked her tongue, “She wanna be more than your assistant.”

Erik clenched his jaw, “How you figure that?”

“She just acts too giddy around you. I don’t like it. It drives me crazy.” 

“You ain’t have a problem with it before.”

Y/N shook her head, “You’re missing my point.”

“Who do you really have a problem with? Me or Kiesha?”

Y/N finally looked up at Erik. He was staring her down through the mirror with his black eyes. 

“Ever since all this shit with Tasia happened you’ve been on my back. What I gotta do to prove to you that it’s only you?”

“Nothing, you ain’t gotta do shit,” Y/N stood up, “I’ll see you when you get home—”

“Nah, uh-uh, you ain’t going nowhere. We ain’t finished.” 

Erik blocked her from getting out of her seat. Y/N tilted her head away from him.

“Talk to me,” Erik followed her movements, “I’m serious, open your mouth and talk.”

“…I just feel like you're gonna get tired of me.” 

Y/N looked up at the ceiling to stop herself from crying.

“I got my mom in my ear and everybody else. This shit is just too much. I’m trying to be Ray Charles to the bullshit but I can’t stop thinking the worst.” 

Erik closed his eyes for a second before he placed one hand on the back of her head, bringing her closer to him. She rests her cheek on his bare chest, her ear directly over his heart. He wrapped both of his arms around her and kissed the top of her head repeatedly. 

“You can’t let what people think get to you. I’m not leaving you. You gotta have faith in that, mamas. I ain’t say this shit was gonna be easy, did I? I don’t want nobody but you. The only one I wanna see laying next to me at night is you. The only face I wanna see when I wake up is yours. What I gotta do to cheer you up?”

Erik gripped Y/N by the chin with his hand. She looked up at him with sad eyes and a pout. He leaned forward and kissed her lips. Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Erik still had her chin so he could control her movements. The kiss turned heated and now Erik is sitting in the chair while Y/N is on his lap. He broke the kiss and rubbed her bottom lip with his thumb.

“Like I said, me and you…”

“Forever?” Y/N pressed her forehead against Erik’s. His hands were rubbing up and down her sides. 

“I want this shit forever.” Erik said. 

Soon, his hands were doing the same to her ass. Y/N started sucking on Erik’s neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and started thrusting his hips upward. He shut his eyes and moaned in her ear. She was attacking the spot behind his ear with her tongue. 

“Why would I fuck this up? You're special to me,” Erik lifts Y/N’s cropped shirt over her head. 

“None of those bitches matter. Not Tasia, not the chick from the tour bus, not Kiesha…”

He unclamped Y/N’s bra and smoothed it from her shoulders. Her warm breasts touched his chest and he hissed with pleasure. With both hands, he cupped her breasts and brought them together. Erik rubbed his face all over her breasts back and forth. He spread each breast and rested his face between them. Y/N reached between his legs to stroke him to stiffness. 

“I knew that’s what you wanted. You were acting up just so I could fuck you.” 

Erik started sucking on Y/N’s nipples one by one. She placed her hands over his hands and watched him enjoy her breasts. He would swipe his tongue between the heft of her breasts and then over each areola. 

“Won’t everyone hear us?” Y/N whispered.

“I don’t give a fuck. You know I don’t give a fuck…”

Y/N was wearing a denim skirt so Erik could easily lift it up to her waist and slip her panties to the side. 

“Lift up…”

She raised her hips so that Erik could free his dick. 

“Fuck me just like this, daddy,” Y/N teased him with a bite of her lip. 

With one arm around her waist, Erik tilted his hips up and Y/N sank down on him. Connected, Erik gripped her sides and with his powerful arms, he bounced Y/N at a moderate pace. She braced herself on his shoulders while he controlled her body to drop down on him. Erik would look from the mirror to her face. 

“I got that ass clapping…wet fuckin’ pussy…”

“Ooo,” Y/N moaned.

“This ain’t doing it,” Erik picked Y/N up and sat her on the edge of the vanity. He spread her legs and continued to fuck her. She gripped the edge of the vanity when he lifted her hips up. The vanity shook a little and Erik had to keep his eyes on the door. Y/N took one hand to grip him by his chains. He looked back at her, biting down on his lip. When she started to moan louder, Erik stuffed his fingers in her mouth for her to suck on and to keep her quiet. 

He looked from her pussy to her face and opened his mouth to spit on his dick. 

“Why every time I fuck you, your pussy get wetter and wetter?” Erik questioned with low eyes. 

He brought one leg up to his shoulder and leaned in to pound her. Erik covered her mouth with his hand and locked eyes with her. 

“What?” Erik raised a brow, “Too much?”

Y/N whimpered when Erik started stroking her clit with his thumb.

Erik’s eyes fluttered shut and then he opened them again to look at the door, “if somebody walk in on us I’m not stopping.” 

Y/N’s walls clenched Erik’s girth and he smiled, showing off his gold canines. 

“Do it again and watch how I put you next.” 

She couldn’t control it. Every time they had sex, she couldn’t control what her pussy did. He blamed her for the spasms her slick walls were doing but it’s because of him that it’s happening. 

“Time to put you on your stomach,” Erik slipped out of her and turned her around, “Bend the fuck over.” He said through clenched teeth.

Y/N went flat against the vanity and she could feel Erik lift her denim skirt and rip her panties off. He tossed the shreds onto the vanity and spread her cheeks with one hand. Dipping his hips because she’s much shorter than him, Erik found her entrance and pushed up, slipping inside with ease because of how creamy and wet she is. 

“Fuck this dick. Make this dick cum.” He commanded.

Y/N threw it back on him as best as she could. 

“For somebody that doesn't wanna get caught, you ain’t following directions,” Erik gripped her by her arms, “You ‘bout to have me blowing your back out in this trailer…”

Erik started pounding Y/N while holding her by the arms. Her head fell forward against the mirror from the force of Erik’s hips. On set, the music was loud so Y/N hoped no one could hear, but she wouldn’t be surprised if they did. 

“Damn, this pussy is so good,” Erik let go of her arms and brought one hand around the front of her neck, “Don’t you ever question what we got. It’s me and you, and that’s my last time saying it.”

“I’m gonna cum—”

“Hold that shit in!”

“I can’t! I—ohhhh shit—”

Y/N had Erik’s dick in a vice grip. He groaned and pushed her head forward against the mirror. He could feel warm liquid on his dick and he smiled with satisfaction. 

“That’s strike two. When we get home, best believe I’m gonna tear that ass up. I told you not to cum on my dick.”

He slapped her ass rough and brought her to her knees. Erik took it up a notch and slapped her in the face with his dick before smearing his shaft covered in her cum all over her lips. 

“Put this dick in your mouth. Teach you a lesson to follow orders…”

Y/N tried to grip his dick but Erik slapped her hand away.

“Mouth. All mouth. That’s what you’ve been giving me lately anyway. Use that mouth to suck this dick.”

She lowered her mouth onto his dick and started sucking. Pussy dripping to the floor and not fully satisfied, Y/N was all jaws and neck. Erik would look from the door, to her, trying his best to keep his composure. Y/N pulled out all the tricks to get him to moan. 

“You tryna make me moan, ain’t you? You know I like it when you suck my dick like this…FUCK.”

She savored the taste of him in her mouth. Erik took control with a hand to the back of her head, feeding his dick into her mouth. 

“Just like that…just like that…mmm…eat this dick up…Fuuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Erik’s hand shook on the back of her head. Y/N stayed on that dick until she had the last drop of cum. When she finished, Y/N swallowed it all and licked her lips clean. Erik helped her to her feet and he excused himself to the bathroom to clean his dick off before heading back to the shoot. Y/N looked disheveled and she didn’t want to stay on set so she decided to leave.

“Here, take this,” Erik gave her the keys to his Ferrari, “And here’s some money, “Erik dropped a stack into her hand from his duffel bag, “Go get you something sexy to wear for dinner tonight and something lacy. Get yourself a new pair of stilettos too…those red ones with the skinny heel…yeah, the Louis Vouitton pair. Spend this on whatever you want. I’ll have my driver pick me up. We got a special night planned.” 

Erik gave Y/N one final kiss. He stopped her before she left to fix her hair and her clothes. Satisfied he popped her on the ass and let her leave. 

“I love you!” Erik yelled after her retreating frame.

“I love you too!”

Erik crossed his pointer and middle finger, signaling to her that he was locked in with her and he meant it. Y/N smiled, doing the same with her fingers, before leaving the set completely. Y/N may have thought that Erik would grow tired of her, but he only hoped that she wouldn’t. 

She finally filled the emptiness he felt since the first woman to ever steal his heart left this earth. Maybe he could finally start the family he always wanted.

@goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @chaneajoyyy @uzumaki-rebellion @theeblackmedusa @daddiespamm @lisayourworries @bellleame @ratedbadgal @bombshellbre95 @cecereads209 @cancerianprincess @dameshaemonique @6lack-1otus @thickemadame @thickeeparker @stinkalinkkkk @1lavender-menace @ehniki @electrixit @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @washillary @bakarisprincess @melodicheauxxlovesfood @bxolux @sweet2krazee @bluesole16 @90sisthenew80s @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @unbotheredblackchild @nubianbabee @adoreesun @honeyandpeaches10 @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @dersha89@honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @why-wait-4-eventually @angelicniah @queenfaithmarie @soulfulbeauty19 @asweet-serendipity @kartierkitten @iamching07 @ladymac82@bbygirlwiththatass @cydneyloo @sexysativa605@chrisevans-world @aijha @novaniskye@princessxotwod@callmemckenzieee @blowmymbackout @lahuttor @momobaby227@blackerthings@neesiewrote

[draggeddowntothedark]

Event: Where's Kevin?

The Trio isn't a trio without their goofy little guy. But he got cocky, overplayed his hand, and @imperatore-falcone has his hands on him... he's gonna make Kevin pay for all the pranks and vandalism he's being pulling.

If we're mutuals and want in on this, let me know, if we're mutuals also expect Mordred and Natalie to come into your inboxes asking if you've seen him. If we've yet to interact, this could be an icebreaker! If you want no part of this event, don't worry about it, but if you do, like this post!

Major Players In This Event:

Elliot 'Mordred' Worth: One of Kevin's besties and the other half of the pranking duo. They started this off because Mordred wanted to get under Falcone's skin for how shittily he's treated Roxxy.

Natalie Sweets: Kevin's other bestie. Kevin doesn't just disappear like this, not without texting them. She's a real 'sweetie', last name pun, but if something happens to Kevin she will lose her shit.

Erastus Spurlock: Mordred's one time love, Eli's Right Hand, and currently loaned out to Falcone to handle the mischief of a baby vampire and his pyromaniac bestie. He might question how far Eli's allowing Falcone to go, but he's loyal to his king, first and foremost.

Eli Howlett: The Obsidian King and Mordred's Maker, Eli was furious to learn a young vampire was picking a fight with The Roman. He's allotting Falcone his pound of flesh, as long as he gets both the boys when he's done. Falcone isn't the only powerful man Kevin's pissed off.

'Ezekiel Trioson': ????

[darklordazalin]

Trinkets Chart for Darkon

I enjoy making trinket charts for DnD. I made this d100 one for my DnD game that's set entirely in Darkon, which I've called The Iron Crown. There's a lot of easter eggs in here, but thought this could be a fun thing to share on a Friday morning while I ignore my actual job.

01-02

A star chart contained within the face of an ornate compass. A question mark is placed where the moon should be.

03-04

A frail bit of parchment containing a half-created new and highly complex summoning spell.

05-06

A flute carved from the charred remains of a human tibia.

07-08

A cane topped with a silver owl that is cold to the touch.

09-10

A silver charm bracelet that contains the following charms: an ornate eye surrounded by flames, a crown set with a single amber gemstone, a skull with small garnets in its eye sockets, and a closed book.

11-12

A vial of cloudy red blood labeled “LvZ”.

13-14

A wooden box engraved with the letter “S” containing a shimmering black, outlandish traveling cloak; brimmed hat, great cloak, and silvery skull-like mask.

15-16

An ebony brooch in the shape of a dragon that does not reflect light.

17-18

A hand mirror that sometimes reflects the translucent image of a young man instead of your own image.

19-20

A mummified hand holding a black candle that cannot be lit.

21-22

A cloak that leaves tendrils of mists in your wake.

23-24

A ring in the shape of a human skull. The skull opens to reveal a coil of coppery reddish hair.

25-26

A set of dice that always roll snake eyes.

27-28

A leather hand cuff engraved with the symbols associated with each school of magic. When someone wearing it casts a spell, the associated symbol glows.  

29-30

A ticket for free admission to The Carnival

31-32

A blanket in which silently screaming faces appear under the light of the moon.

33-34

A belt that changes color and size to match any outfit.

35-36

A finger puppet of a piebald raven.

37-38

A scabbard that always keeps the blade within sharp and clean.

39-40

A plush of a skeleton wearing a crown with the label “Is No Fun, is No Blinsky!” on it.

41-42

An hour glass containing black sand that quickens the closer one is to their own death.

43-44

A green gemstone containing the spirit of an unknown entity.

45-46

Incomplete sheet music for the song ‘The King of the Dead’ written by Andres Duvall

47-48

A tarnished wedding band with the words “Life Eternal” carved on the inner band.

49-50

Long, thin, curved blade with a handle carved from a stag’s antler that inspires its owner to take up the craft of wood carving.

51-52

A silver pendant of a raven that you are loathed to part with.

53-54

An invitation to Neverwere Manor signed by Baron Eversong.

55-56

A porcelain doll with eyes that seem to follow you wherever you turn.

57-58

A bell carved from bone that makes a sound only spirits of unrest can hear.

59-60

A monocle that, when viewed through, shows every humanoid in the form of a hybrid lycanthrope.

61-62

A burial shroud that never frays.

63-64

A tea kettle that singles a funeral dirge when the water within boils.

65-66

A blood red candle that produces a black flame.

67-68

Eye glasses that, when worn, change one’s eye color to red.

69-70

A rose made of obsidian that cannot break.

71-72

A music box that, when open, plays an eerie melody as a miniature ballerina wearing a blood-stained tutu dances.

73-74

An amulet that absorbs blood.

75-76

The fingerbone of an unconsecrated skeleton.

77-78

Strange smelling perfume from Borca contained in a glass bottle in the shape of an apple.

79-80

A lantern containing floating dim, phosphorescent lights that constantly change from green to blue to purple.

81-82

A book entitled “An Herbalists Guide to the Shadow Rift” that contains alien-like drawings of bizarre plants and plant monsters.

83-84

A pair of cufflinks shaped like skulls that glow purple during a thunderstorm.

85-86

A magnifying glass that shows the user ghostly footprints on any surface they examine.

87-88

A miniature stone dragon egg engulfed in shadowy tendrils.

89-90

A quill pen that contains red ink that refills whenever someone writes with it.

91-92

A cloak clasp in the shape of a moon that changes to match the moon’s current phase.

93-94

A book entitled “Van Richten’s Guide to the Hunter” which contains a ‘how to’ guide for monsters dealing with hunters written in a comedic and often snarky voice.

95-96

A hood that, when worn, gives one a skeletal-like appearance.

97-98

A green leather pouch containing soil from an unmarked grave.

99-100

A pendant in the shape of a golden dragon skull that occasionally speaks into your mind in an unknown tongue.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 7 (Din Djarin & Paz Vizsla)

For Manda'yaim

Din Djarin x f!reader, Paz Vizsla x f!reader, other unnamed COTW Mandalorians x f!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Now that they have reclaimed their homeworld, the Children of the Watch resurrect an ancient ritual to secure the future of their people. Reader is one of the volunteers chosen to bear the next generation of Mando'ade.

Warnings: Dub-con, CNC, Reader is consenting but unable to withdraw consent, Bondage, Gangbang, Drugged sex, Unconscious sex, Anonymous sex, Children of the Watch are a cult, cult behavior, ritual sex, breeding, breeding rituals, creampies, unrealistic amounts of cum, vaginal plugging, p in v, gratuitous use of Mando'a, religious imagery, no y/n

Inspired by @absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 prompt list

also on ao3

The chamber is cold. It is deep in the belly of the mines, and not even the fire in the hearth can warm the small waiting area. Your beskar’gam, save for your helmet, is tucked away in the wardrobe, and you’ve donned the gauzy black shift left folded neatly on the shelf. Now, all you can do is wait.

You don’t have to wait long. The door to the main room slides open. The Armorer stands in the doorway, intimidating as ever, though you do not fear your alor. She says nothing, but you follow her out into the ceremonial chamber.

It’s domed, completely crafted of smooth, dark stone. She brings you to stand on the bridge before the chamber’s enormous entrance. The bridge rises from the hall outside but is seamless where it turns to obsidian. Even the stone dais in the center looks like the room was carved around it.

Stripped away to reveal the greater purpose beneath.

The bridge leads into the water rather than over. The slow flow of the stream encircles the center platform, but to cross, one must enter the shallow pool at the foot of the path.

The Armorer stands at the edge of the water. Your heart is pounding so loud you think you can hear it echo in the chamber.

“Do you wish to proceed?” she asks, lilting voice as commanding and regal as you remember.

“I do.” You hope your faith rings solid beneath the waver of your voice.

If she doubts you, she does not show it.

“Very well. Do you willingly offer your vessel to the Ka’ra, to accept the manda within you, for Manda’yaim?”

Will you let the kings of old grant you the very essence of your people for the good of Mandalore? Of course. “Oya manda.”

“Oya manda,” she agrees, something warm seeping from under her cold, unmoving composition. “Step forward.”

You do, bare feet brushing softly against stone, until you are within reach. Her hands find the lip of your helmet and unlatch the seal, lifting its heft from your neck. Frigid air creeps up, but you shiver more from being exposed than the cold.

She holds your helmet in one arm and steps back into the water. You follow, surprised to find it generously warm. As you settle on your knees, the water lapping up to your waist serves as a balm to your nerves.

You take the curved pot from her other hand when offered and drink of the hot tea within before sinking it below the stream at your knees. The water rushes into it, desperate to fill the gap it left behind. When you raise it, the excess flows over your fingers.

The drink has settled in your core, warmth flooding your veins. You will leave the fears behind there, to be swept from the chamber on the ebb and flow.

The Armorer takes it and holds it aloft. “None shall see your face but I, and when you leave these waters, you will be granted cin vhetin.”

She tilts the pot, warm water rushing down your face.

“Vor entye,” you pledge as the last rivulets drip down, looking at the Armorer through sodden lashes.

“You owe no debt,” she corrects. “It is the reward for your sacrifice. Rise.”

You stand and follow her onto the platform. A thick pad is laid atop the tall stone table. You shed the robe and take comfort in that she sees your bareness as devotion and not transgression.

The haze of the tincture that laced the tea nestles around you. Like when your buir used to carry you to bed after long days of training, when you didn’t last through the songs around the fire past twilight. You climb onto the table, and your body is pliant as she secures it into place.

The thick straps are for your safety, not imprisonment. They keep you tethered to the table and to Manda’yaim while your soul drifts between realms. You pray the Ka’ra won’t find you lacking.

You are secured on your knees, spread wide, and your arms forward in supplication. Your head is held bowed, and the veil is secured to the restraint.

The expanse of the galaxy is settling in around you. You don’t fight it when your vision fades.

There are two men in the room. Two of your vod. They wear no helmets and will be cleansed in the pools before returning to the surface. But no barriers can be permitted between you, and the chamber is sacred.

They don’t look at one another out of respect. They will come and go in pairs, taking turns to feed your womb and ensure your safety.

The Mand’alor is the first to give sacrament at your altar. When the doors are shut, he lifts his helm and anoints himself from the sleek pot. Behind him, Paz remains concealed. He will not shed his helmet until it is his turn, and so he will remain on the bridge to stand guard.

As Din crosses the waters, he pauses to take in your prone form. The swell of your ass in the air, the arch of your spine. The sweet, tender core of you, softly parted for him. He reaches up to run his fingers through your folds. There’s a light dew, there, but you are not ready.

“Don’t tell me this is your first, vod’ika,” Paz calls.

Din disregards the taunt, stroking through your lips until he finds the gem at your apex. With one hand gently rubbing your cheek, he spreads you open a little more and tastes.

“I don’t think that’s generally part of the process,” Paz notes.

“Shut up, vod,” Din sighs. “Should we not be grateful and ease the passage? Besides, she’s sweet. You’ll miss out.”

“I’ll have my turn,” Paz says gruffly.

“Ah, but only after she tastes of me.” Din grins smugly when Paz groans.

“Get on with it. I want to spend as little time with your naked shebs as possible.”

Din returns his lips to your cunt. He could admit he was being a little selfish, but he truly did want to shoulder some of your burden. Couldn’t leave his martyr to suffer. You or the others who had volunteered to bear the future of their planet.

When he’s certain you can take him without difficulty, he withdraws his mouth and fingers, though savoring the way you linger on his tongue.

When he sinks into you, the pleasure he had coaxed from your body eases his way. You accept him, welcome his offering, and he can’t help but devote his attentions to your pliant flesh. Soft moans slip through your peaceful exhalations. Your warm cunt clenches around him, your hips gently rocking back to meet him. You serve your Mand’alor even in sleep, and he bathes you in praise.

You’re submerged. You swim in the Living Waters, and breathe it in as easy as the air. The voices on the surface are low and rumbling, and you drift lower, free to explore, knowing your vod are on the shore. They won’t let you drown. The water is so dark, but when light breaks through, the beskar veins beneath you are all alight.

There is pressure all around you, like a cradle. And you are so, so full. You think maybe the Waters will keep you, consume you. The current fills you, and you let it sink you down, down, down.

Back in the pool at the foot of the dais, Din cleanses his cock of you, but not his soul.

He slides the helmet back over his head and gives a nod to Paz. “For Manda’yaim.”

“For Manda’yaim,” Paz dips his head to Din. When the Mand’alor turns to respect his vod’s wishes, he removes the helmet.

They are both grave now. Bare, but more encumbered than while clad in full beskar'gam. All teasing and taunting has been swept away in the meandering stream.

Not to be outdone by Din, Paz also brings you to your peak with his lips and tongue against your clit. He doesn’t dare lick into you, not out of an aversion to his vod’s taste, but to preserve as much of the Mand’alor’s seed in you as possible.

Paz is broader than his vod’ika in all ways. He expects to find some resistance when he enters you, but the tightness and heat almost make him spill early. That wouldn’t do, not when he would have to hear about it for all of eternity.

He’s brash and impulsive but never uncaring, so his fingers seek your clit as Din’s had. But as he finds a steady rhythm, an unbidden sadness blossoms in his chest.

He’s fairly certain he knows who you are, though he shouldn’t dwell on it. And though he holds no anger to the rest of his vod who will make their tributes to you today, he does wish you’d told him. Or Djarin.

They could have had you, just the two of them, if that’s what you wanted. And who better to gift you a life than the Mand’alor and his General?

Despite the undercurrent of regret, he feels proud. Proud that his vod’ika would give herself to the tribe, would sing the oldest song of their people, and receive nothing less than pure manda in reward. And the image of you, belly round beyond your beskar, sends him over the edge, fingers digging into your hips as he fills you.

It’s long after the sun has set when the Armorer and the Mand’alor return to the chamber. It matters not, as no light can reach you in the depths under the sacred city. This time, when Din approaches the dais, he is fully armored, helmet in place. He takes a box from the Armorer and opens it to reveal the sizeable, solid beskar plug and lifts it from the silky cushion.

You’re overflowing, your body simply unable to contain the twenty or so loads you were offered, their consecrations dripping obscenely from your red, swollen cunt. You jerk against the bonds and moan, half pleasure and half agony, when he parts your lips with one hand—the only part of him left bare.

The plug finds no resistance, but it does displace some of the cum, oozing down your leg. No matter, Din thinks. Most of it remains, and he’s certain he will not have been spilled, not with his seed at the deepest of your core. When the plug is in place, he uses the pot to cleanse you, to bring you back to the surface.

When you begin to stir, he leaves.

Mando'a translations (in order of appearance): Manda'yaim - the planet Mandalore Beskar'gam - Beskar armor alor - leader Ka'ra - the stars/ancient Kings from Mandalorian mythology Manda - the collective Mandalorian soul Oya manda - a Mandalorian saying showing eternal solidarity cin vhetin - a blank slate (here used to indicate that the removal of the helmet is forgiven for this ritual) Vor entye - formal "thank you" carrying a debt of gratitude buir - parent Vod - brothers/sisters (in arms/loyalty, not literal) Mand'alor - the ruler of the Mandalorians Vod'ika - little brother Shebs - ass (Source: mandoa.org)

[cilil]

AN: Alright, my dear @fraeuleinfriedhof, I am a woman of my word. I decided to choose one of the dark romance prompts to create this little gift for you and hope it is to your liking!

dark romance prompts

♡ prompt: marked ~ Melkor x Mairon ♡ synopsis: While the Ainur of Utumno feast, Melkor makes sure everyone knows that Mairon is his and his alone. ♡ warnings: Smut(ty), not-too-explicit public sex, possessiveness, a hedonistic hell party going on in the background ♡ short oneshot (~600 words)

A snowstorm raged outside, pelting the frozen north of Arda with a furious flurry of hail and ice. 

The halls of Utumno, however, were filled with warmth, laughter and music, and the Maiar of Melkor celebrated their lord's glory and generosity. Fires burned freely between mighty pillars of obsidian, wine, blood and meat were served in abundance and all indulged in whichever pleasures of the flesh they craved. It was a wild and frightening spectacle to behold, like a dance of maddened, frenzied beings that had once been holy and pure, and the scent of ash filled the air. 

Amidst the chaos stood the throne of Melkor where he lounged, watching his people with idle amusement. On his lap, seated proudly and clinging to his form like a precious piece of jewellery, was a Maia unlike any other, one bright and beautiful among creatures of darkness, with hair of copper, eyes of gold and lips like liquid rubies. 

One of Melkor's hands held onto his slender waist possessively, and the other was interlaced with his, each adorned with a black and golden ring, as if he needed to stake his claim on the wondrous creature he had chosen as his consort – though all Ainur who had ever come across He who arises in Might knew better than to covet what was his. 

Mairon had long since learned to ignore the stares. He had learned to smile and giggle and bat his eyelashes whenever Melkor's hands began to wander. His entire being lit up with perverse, triumphant euphoria as he felt cool fingers slip underneath his luxurious robes and search for bare skin; on Almaren, he had been a mere apprentice of a smith, and now he was the consort of a king. His best, his brightest, his favourite, his *precious*. 

Melkor's grip on his hand tightened just as his wandering hand cupped his ass. "I want you." 

A clear, brilliant laugh filled the air, teasing to the point of mockery, and Mairon threw his head back to cheekily evade a greedy kiss – only to bare his neck, deliberately. 

"Right here? Right now?" he asked, pretending to swoon at the mere idea. 

"Yes." Melkor pushed him down harder onto his lap and pulled him in at the same time. "You may keep your robes, as the sight of your true beauty is mine alone as well, but I *will* have you." 

Impatient, impulsive, insolent. Any other Ainu would have felt Mairon's wrath for such audacity, Vala or not; but his beloved he would indulge. Letting himself fall so he could lie on Melkor's chest, he looked up at him through long eyelashes. 

"Take me then," he challenged, "show them that I am yours and you are mine."

"Be careful what you wish for. You might yet sing louder than they do."

"Make me."

And so it came to pass that even though the two lovers fell silent for a while as their lips met in a heated kiss, Mairon's song would eventually echo through the hall with such exuberance and ferocity that many turned their heads to behold the spectacle on their lord's throne and watched their feverish coupling. Blood-red robes pooled around his hips, concealing where their fánar met, but the force of Melkor's thrusts and his own frantic movements left little to the imagination. The fingers of their ringed hands remained intertwined as if to repeat the vows they had exchanged and sharp teeth and claw-like nails left marks on unblemished skin, like quiet, breathless whispers saying mine. 

Thanks for reading!

taglist: @angbangbaby @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @i-did-not-mean-to @melkors-big-tits @melkors-defense-attorney @singleteapot

[aalinaaaaaa]

Find the Word Tag

Thanks @shadow-space-writes for the tag!

The words I was given were: flow, grow, above, below

For the people tagged (and also anyone who wants to jump in) your words are: ring, sing, king, wing

—

Below

From Soulswapped, Chapter One

A few steps more and Anira could sleep.

"Wait." A wall of flesh stopped her in her tracks, a set of fingers about as long as she was tall. "We should have a chat."

"Let me past." She stumbled backwards, meeting the gaze of the High Councillor below. The glint in his golden eyes and the sharp upturn of his lips told her everything, she had to go, her days were numbered, she had to–

Flow(ing)

From Obsidian Sapphires, a random snippet shortly after the inciting incident

"Alycja, where are you going?" Cheyoria's voice trailed behind her.

She winded through the dissipating crowd, a cold calm flowing through her. "There's something I need to do."

"What is it?" The path ahead became more forested, lined with towering oaks and hazels. Little sprites leapt from branch to branch, avoiding the crows perched in wait.

Above

"Something important." A million eyes, seen and unseen, bore their weight on her. Caws, cackles, chatters, all clattering and crackling. Magic rising and falling, embers to ashes, her throat constricting— "It's to resolve the other night."

The tree canopies brushed against each other, a cover of green and a cacophany of corvids. Branches held each other as the hands of the eternal; long-lived, primordial gods, standing above all other life, their looming presence swallowing the light and space around them.

Grow(ing)

Under a circle of stalwarts, her friend breached the growing silence. "Please tell me it's not with who I think it is."

Alycja refrained her step from the stone circle. She turned her neck, looking up into the storm of worry in her friend's eyes. "And if it is?"

—

Giving tags to @honeybewrites @tryingtimi @ceph-the-ghost-writer @thepeculiarbird @the-golden-comet @thatndginger @flock-from-the-void @cherrybombfangirlwrites and, as always, to everyone in the audience

[ravellaarryns]

who: @withsilvereyes when and where: casterly rock, within the audience chamber of queen katherine serrett. the falcon queen requests to speak with the queen of the west, and it has caused a rippled effect through the courts. context: secret's out

the chamber was cold despite the roaring fire; or perhaps that was just ravella, feeling how cold her skin was beneath her own touch. shadows flickered along the stone walls, twisting the banners of a grand lion into strange shapes, something her orbs of ice seemed to transfix upon. ravella arryn sat with a straight spine, her gown a cascade of black velvet and silver embroidery, the raven of house arryn perched at her chest like a bird of prey.

her pale hands, adorned with rings of moonstones and obsidian, rested lightly on the table, unmoving, while her expression remained inscrutable. the lions had always roared so loudly; perhaps it is time they learned silence.

katherine serrett sat opposite her, gilded in the golden finery of her house, her presence warm and vibrant in stark contrast to ravella's cold austerity. the silence between them stretched like a taut wire, neither willing to break it first. finally, ravella's voice sliced through the still air, smooth and measured, yet laced with an undercurrent sharp enough to draw blood. and yet, this situation - well, it was all fun for ravella arryn.

as serious and solemn as she appeared, within the manacles of her mind, she were already laughing hysterically into a void of nothing. laughing in the face of what had once been her biggest worry, what kept her up and threatened to drain her of her beauty; ravella arryn had no threat to her place in the line of succession. not from the womb of a lannister, at least.

"it is not often we find ourselves in the same room. a curious thing, given how closely our houses were once entangled." her dark eyes lingered on katherine, unblinking, her gaze as heavy as the stones of the eyrie. she leaned forward slightly, her hands now steepled together. ""there have been revelations that are of concern. my noble court have pulled at threads and severed those that threaten the integrity of our ancestry, and our line. an enlightening pursuit."

why did she pick katherine to tell? perhaps because she wished to inflict as much issue upon as many of the lannisters as possible. because perhaps, she wished to see whether katherine was willing to expose the truth in order to save her own skin.

her voice was soft, but there was nothing gentle about it. her words carried the weight of something venomous, poised to strike. "your good sister and my brother are to go down in history, for another reason other than the tragedy of it all." there was no sense of compassion in her voice, no sense of regret or grief for her hand in how her brother had ultimately been butchered. somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered seeing the figure of axell royce in the thickest of woods, to return to find those wildlings sat at her table.

ravella’s lips curled into a faint, humorless smile, a cold imitation of warmth. "the king of the blade was no arryn at all. but a bastard born of shadow, wearing a crown that was never his to claim. and his line, born of an illegitimate union, remain as rotten as his father." she leaned back in her chair, the firelight catching the glint of her rings. "that boy carries no worth or claim to anything but whispers and scandal. a lannister tainted by falsehoods, and a bastard which has been granted wealth for...what exactly?" she asked, her ruby lips spreading into an inhumane smirk.

"it will be made public. all will know the vale of arryn's line of succession remains legitimate. cleansed. restored."

[quen12]

Nokta Klein Alternative Route Part 2.

Sorry about the spelling mistake on the first one it's not all perfect. And I apologize for the delay but I wanted to finish the fanfiction story I came up with as if it happened in the Nokto route of Ikemen Prince. Some things I may write about are stuff that happened route and skim over it. Just to let you know so no one gets confused this is fully fictional. But I do hope we can get a sequel with pregnancy and children of Ikemen. Maybe I will do what each one of Prince's and Emma's children would look like. Well moving on, hope you enjoy it.

After Emma heard the heartbeats of her and Nokta's child she couldn't stop the tears from sliding down her cheeks. As she leaves the underground doctor's place and heads to her house in the village to change her clothing.

Emma:(What do I do? But one thing for sure I shouldn't let anyone else know)

As Emma sat on her bed caressing her stomach.

Emma: “I'm not sure if I'm prepared to be a mom, but I want to protect you”

Emma:(I should go back to the palace before Rio gets worried)

Emma heads back to the palace to get a restful sleep to prepare for the fake engagement party tomorrow, as she goes to the hallway of her room she sees Nokta walking toward the library. She hides behind a pillar not knowing how to face him right now. He passes by without glancing her way but a smirk appears on his face the second he leaves.

Nokta: (Playing hide and seek?)

Without realizing Nokta saw her Emma walks back to her room. As soon as she enters she gets her suitcase and packs all her possessions. And prepares to run away.

Emma:(This should be enough, but I can’t stay in Rhodolite like before. I should go somewhere else)

Looking over the map she she points to Benitoite.

Emma:(Perfect now I have to see Rio, but right now he works in the palace knowing him he will give up anything for me but he has to live his life too)

(I should just go by myself, I'll prepare everything and leave at midnight tomorrow )

The engagement party comes and go Nokta takes Emma back to her room.

Nokta: So we fooled the nobles how about making this into a real engagement.

Emma: Stop joking you're not funny

Emma stretches her hand toward Nokto with the engagement ring in.

Nokta: (mm) Keep it, toss it, sell it I don't care.

Emma stares toward Nokta trying to get the word out. But gives up in the end.

Emma:………

Emma: You know you're not a bad person minus the filtration and womanizing. You're smart and you know how to do trades well.

Nokta: Considering me for a king?

Emma: I Am considering everyone and their aspects. Staying here made me realize that you and your brothers are no beasts at all

Nokta laughs loudly to the point he bends and holds his stomach.

Nokta: Even Chevalier? Don't let him hear you say that.

Nokta leaves Emma in a pleasant mode with a little frustration he feels there was something suspicious but he doesn’t let it ruin his amusement. Unaware of Emma plans he heads to his room.

Emma( Okay I wrote a letter for Rio and Sariel, I don’t know what will happen with the princes. I also left my choice of king, I know he will do well and he can secure so much for this kingdom. As my last gift and goodbye)

Emma went to the dark part of town, got into a carriage filled with a lot of runaway citizens. And left halfway toward there destination. Soldier wearing Obsidian ambushed them, with them was a man with a crane and black eye patch on of his eyes. He smiled and the people trembled, when he meet eyes with Emma who was making her self as unnoticeable as possible he stretched his hand.

Man with eyepatch: If you come with me I let all these people pass unharmed.

Emma;(These are innocent people, this guy doesn’t seem like the type to be messed around with if the princes call themselves beasts he must be from the same species)

Emma: how can I know you will keep your word?

Man with eyepatch: I always keep my word unless I get betrayed. So choose now before I change my mind

Emma puts her hand in his and he grasps it tightly

Man with an eyepatch: ( How long have I been waiting to meet you, Emma)

Emma leaves with the man and rides his carriage.

As they sit in the carriage together Emma realizes the man keeps staring at her, making her uncomfortable.

Emma: Who are you and how did you know I’d be in that carriage?

Man with eyepatch: my name is Gilbert oh or should I say Gilbert Von Obsidian. And I have my ways.

Emma's eyes widen with shock

Emma: Your Gilbert ??

Gilbert: yes the prince of Obsidian and you rabbit are Bella of Rhodolite.

Emma: I am not Bella.

Gilbert: Looking at you now you seem to be on the run, let’s make a deal.

As Gilbert says that they stop At Obsidian Castle, Gilbert's servant shows Emma to her room and tells her to rest for now and tomorrow Gilbert will come to talk to her. Emma is surprised for being treated more regularly like a guest than a prisoner.

Emma has a hard time sleeping but she finally falls asleep. As morning sunshine hits the room Emma opens her eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling remembering last night's events. But then nausea and morning sickness of the pregnancy hit her and she runs to the bathroom not realizing that someone entered her room.

Gilbert enters the room

Gilbert:(She has woken up, she must be in the bathroom, I’ll wait till she's done)

The sound of Emma puking could be heard throughout the room.

Gilbert:( Weird is she sick from traveling, I will call the doctor to check) Gilbert tells the solider outside to contact the doctor

Emma opens the door only to be shocked by Gilbert sitting on her bed

Emma:(did he hear me puke?) What are you doing? In a lady's room?

Gilbert smiles: I came to discuss our deal from yesterday, but now I need you to sit down

Emma: I am not gonna….(I feel dizzy)

Emma faints from her tiredness and nausea.

Gilbert catches her and then lays her on the bed. There’s a knock on the door interrupting

Gilbert: Come in

A doctor walks in with a suitcase

Doctor: you called Your Highness

Gilbert: Yes this little rabbit has been puking nonstop and she looks pale like ghost. She just fainted, examinate her

Doctor: of course Your Highness

Emma lying helplessly on the bed while the doctor examines her.

Doctor: oh

Doctor: Your Highness is this woman your lover?

Gilbert doesn't want rumors or misinformation spread so he answers.

Gilbert: ……. Is there a problem?

Doctor: No just congratulation your highness.

Gilbert: congratulations?

Doctor: She’s with child

Gilbert looks at Emma with shocked and realizes everything as he smiles toward the doctor and lets him leave. As he sit next to Emma bed.

Gilbert: The deal just got better and better wouldn’t you say little rabbit?

While in Rholdolote in the conference room with three letters lying on the table and 9 men anxiously waiting for answers.