#Lavish Golden Explorer

[zinkadear]

Bi and ace phobic people can fuck off!

Kado (gay) loves his bi boyfriends (Midas and Lorenzo).

Piper (lesbian) loves her bi girlfriend (Mae).

Gnash (?) loves his asexual boyfriend (Silas).

[ask-lorenzo-fn]

//Even though this is a Lorenzo only blog now, you can still ask questions about Midenzo. This is set in a universe where they're not a couple, though a lot of my lore still applies, such as Meowscles introducing them, Lorenzo working at The Agency, and him having a crush on Midas. Obviously that's specific to my AU, so if I ever roleplay with any Midas accounts, our characters won't have that history together.

But anyway you can ask Lorenzo things about Midas based on this blog's reality, the Midenzo universe, or the Kado x Midas x Lorenzo one. He'll answer in character as if he's in whichever reality you're referring to.

[jmliebert]

hihiiii! if you take requests / suggestions, i’d loooooovvveeee to see something for halsin with an insecure partner, like maybe they’re insecure about scars or something like that, and how halsin would react to that (being as shameless as he is lol)

oh! I absolutely love this request, I was thinking about it for some time and came up with little something(s), enjoy ♡

♡ halsin turning your insecurities into unapologetic love (halsin x shy!reader)♡

Halsin has lived for a long time, long enough to see beauty through more than just limited lenses. He is wise and understands the ways of the world deeply enough to recognise that beauty is everywhere; in tall grass, in abandoned nests, in sunlight filtering through the leaves, in a mother's love, and in acts of kindness. He sees beauty in you as well, and it’s a shame you don’t see yourself the way he does.

"You're a gift of nature,"

he says, and he means it. To him, your scars are a testament to your story and a path leading to untold pleasure (one of many). He doesn’t merely see them; he reveres them. His lips trace every mark and line with a gentle touch, each kiss so lovely and intense it leaves you breathless. His hands explore your body with a passion. He finds beauty in your stretch marks, in the irregularities of your teeth, in every scar. To him, these are not flaws but unique traits that define you. And he loves you.

Halsin’s eyes are ever-watchful, never leaving your body. It’s impossible to hide anything from him for long, as his gaze is both penetrating and tender. He seeks to know and see everything because he desires to embrace all of you. He wants to cherish you completely because he is forever hungry when it comes to you.

During intimate moments, Halsin’s gaze becomes even more intense. Sometimes you catch his eyes flickering with a golden light, a hint of the beast inside him barely held at bay. He locks eyes with you even when he is buried between your thighs, giving you pleasure. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with unabashed longing and the curiosity of a lover, wanting to see if he’s making you feel good. He smiles when you nod at him, his lips and chin smeared with your wetness.

If Halsin shows naked in front of you and you find your eyes on the ground, suddenly all bashful (I would be bashful too, seeing him in his full glory out of nowhere) he smiles to himself; your reactions endearing to him. Then he gently takes your hand and guides it to his body, letting you explore his chest, face, his back, teaching you that it’s okay to touch, to look, to desire. He’s all yours, completely and utterly. His gaze never wavers, and if you try to look away again, he will softly lift your chin with a finger, smiling warmly with reassurance. He lets you touch his penis too, heavy on his thigh. And with every touch you give him, he melts, and moans quietly showing you how good you make him feel.

Whenever you express any insecurity, Halsin responds with an embrace that is both intense and passionate. He pulls you close, his hands roaming your body with a hunger that leaves no room for doubt about him being completely feral when it comes to you. He inspects every part of you, worshipping each inch with kisses, caresses, and gentle bites. If you ever feel the need to hide your breasts (for whatever reason) or any other part of your body, he gently moves your hands aside and showers that area with loving attention.

“Never hide from me,”

he whispers, his voice filled with reverence.

So... yes, Halsin lavishes attention on the parts of you that you’re most insecure about, turning them into focal points of his erotic devotion. He kisses you with a primal need, making you feel like the most desirable person in the world—in his eyes, you truly are. He sees your insecurities as areas that demand his passionate adoration, ensuring that you feel cherished and loved through every touch.

He is often shameless (!), because he’s not afraid to show what he likes, and he intends to show it to you. His desire for you is vocal and unapologetically honest. He frequently whispers dirty words against your skin, his breath hot and heavy as he tells you how much he wants to take you right then and there. His passion is unbridled really. Basically he wants you everywhere, in every position, every state and he isn’t afraid to tell you so and it feels good, sooo good knowing he wants you so much.

“I love how you whine when I enter you,”

he might say, his voice thick with desire. He's not telling you this to make you shy of course, he just says it because he means it (so cool).

“I love the way you hold me with your legs."

"The frown between your eyes."

"The way your gaze changes when you desire me.”

(...)

His praises are specific and heartfelt, making you feel adored and seen. Halsin teaches you confidence and self-acceptance through his lovely and endless affection. He helps you see the world and yourself through his eyes, where every imperfection is a unique beauty. He even initiates intimate rituals to help you become more comfortable with your body, massaging you with warm oils, his touch both soothing and arousing. But it's not only that. He guides you hands to touch your body, explore it. Showing you how to find pleasure in your own skin.

Halsin treasures the moments when you reveal your insecurities, responding with love, acceptance, and tenderness. He never laughs or dismisses your fears, no matter how ridiculous they may seem. Instead, he offers soft smiles, wise words, gentle kisses, and loving touches that make you feel safe and wanted. Over time, he helps you believe in your own beauty and worth, which is truly wonderful !!!

In bed, Halsin delights in making you moan and whisper his name, using his expert touch and passionate kisses to dispel your insecurities. He believes that your pleasure is the most beautiful sound, and he works tirelessly to elicit it. He encourages you to express your pleasure openly, teaching you that there is no shame in experiencing such profound joy and ecstasy.

As your confidence grows, you begin to explore your sexual fantasies with him, and Halsin is always very (!) eager to make your dreams come true. He creates a safe space for you to express your deepest desires, responding with enthusiasm and acceptance. He sees you as a divine embodiment of nature’s beauty and primal lust, worshipping you with reverent and hungry touches that make you feel like a goddess.

Because to him, you are a goddess, and he worships you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

maybe, just maybe I got a little carried away....sorry

but also (!)

about these sexual fantasies, maybe you have some suggestions what could they be? I want some inspiration for some naughty short-story maybe, so please don't be shameful ;) and write to my inbox or sth, also if you want some particular headcanons featuring some characters from bg3 hit me up as well I'M THIRSTY!

and!

you can find more of my works about halsin ♡here♡ hihi

[ramayantika]

I woke up just now but in half asleep summer nap state I will roll for Heermandi

1. I felt that Alamzeb's casting could be better. The girl was pretty but yet I could not feel the budding romantic expressions on her face and body language. Like that sharmana and poetry narration felt very forced.

2. TAJDAR WHY WHY WHY SLB I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU. No spoilers. Tajdar is very charming, amazing voice, very handsome.

3. Okay considering the history of tawaifs I was at times so mad at Alam and was about to hit the phone screen to say woman wake up to reality.

4. Lajjo and Zorawar's story. Why he left her, her addiction and Lajjo's story could have been explored more. You have such a brilliant actress and when SLB is noted for using actors and their character to their greatest potential, I felt he did not not do that with lajjo this time. We only see her enter in sakal ban, she is always drinking and thinking about Zorawar

5. Manisha was brilliant. The ruthlessness, the wit and slyness. And for a tawaif of those times whose existence and power is constantly challenged, by other tawaifs and rivals and then nawabs and British she has to be so clever, cunning and vicious. Yet her feelings for Alam especially by the end (spoiler free) did make me understand her stony heart more.

6. Aditi as Bibbo was charming, graceful and elegant. And goddamn the way she uses her skills to charm henderson so she may help her people to fight against the British.

7. Star villain Fareedan. I was looking forward to her schemes. And it was understandable why she hates Mallikajaan (manisha). The power play, the constant challenging was interesting to watch. Also sonakshi really acted well, both as Fareedan and as Rehana aapa. I won't say much because the way her character changed at a point where mallika was violated (watch the series for that) like it made me get an overview of these women. Women who were wronged since birth, clinging on to their art and performance, carving a distinct identity for themselves and yet having pride over who they are, and despite all the politics, inner enmity and betrayals, they still did not wish the worst to each other and later come together for they all share one pain.

8. The women if heeramandi coming together to fight for the British got me goosebumps. They decide to use all their money and life to fight for the country. Aditi's (bibbo) dialouge ek baar mujrevali nahi mulkvali bannke sochiye and another dialouge which meant that when the country is burning one does not organise lavish gatherings (mujra mushayra)

9. Songs were pretty good. Sakal ban was trending and I loved the other songs too. Reminded me of Pakeezah

10. Sanjeeda Shaikh as Waheeda. Bhai I used to feel so bad for her. She was betrayed everytime. Poor girl wanted power too like her sister but I understand why she wasn't given. Tawaifs cannot be put into a box. They aren't your gentle shy lover girl type women like we see in pakeezah, the lovely shy, sweet, pure sahibjaan. Their world is a golden cage and to survive here is a war fought everyday.

11. Tajdar ka baap kya gadha egoistic aadmi hai

12. End thoughts: aesthetics = 100/10. I was still looking for slb to explore more of their emotions and life and not just their opulence. Summing up everything, heermandi: 7/10

[euphorickaeya]

THE ALMIGHTY.

buwan’s notes : I’m alive but I’m dead LOL, i don’t think I’ll be posting much on this account, maybe some for a few months here and there but other than that, I’m barely active. I apologize to those who keep asking for updates but I no longer consider myself in the genshin fandom.

I would also want to apologize for this fic, this fic is somewhat cruel, and I don’t want to offend anyone, please do speak to me if it seems I’ve gone too far, but this is merely a more story-based fic than being a fic about the characters being shipped with the god!reader. I wanted to explore the idea of being denied your saving grace when your god is right there, and they know it. It sort of a revenge fic?? Errr idk how to explain HAHA ok enjoy 😭

summary : you refuse to be treated the way you were, when you descended on your lands.

CW : obsession, sagau in general, borderline abuse as a creator, revenge and angst (?).

[no ships, more reader-centric.]

[gender-neutral!creator!reader.]

song recommendation: babooshka - Kate Bush.

part 2

EDIT: I COMPLETELY FORGOT THE TAGLIST..

EDIT #2: SIKE I WROTE IT DOWN LOLS @emperatris-rinaka | @iyhmibyo | @nicebonescomrades

A cold wind blew over the lands of Liyue, the creator has blessed the ancient lands with their presence, being bombarded with the lavish gifts of forgiveness of the people of Liyue by your feet, as you sat at a public throne.

Your eyes held nothing but resentment and no remorse for those who ask for your blessings, even if they bring a sickly child by your feet, begging and crying for a single blessing for you to heal this sickly child placed on your feet.

You merely spare the family a glance, before staring at your acolyte, Zhongli stared at you with concern, unsure of the thoughts racing through your head.

You made your decision when you had shooed the family, a shocked look on their faces as the hold on their poor kid faltered, almost dropping the frail boy. You could merely scoff as the mother handed the kid to her husband as she ran to your feet, wailing.

“Your grace, please punish me for any wrong-doing my family has done, but please! Heal my boy! He’s done nothing wrong, he’s nothing but a boy!” The mother wailed into your robes.

You felt your face morph into disgust, your eyes swelling in anger, tears starting to form from annoyance and anger. “Don’t pity yourself under my feet, lady.” You spat, pushing the mother with your feet.

The crowds that came to revel in their creator’s stared in disbelief and silent horror as the lady sobbed loudly on your podium, and their god, you, doing nothing to comfort or even give a slice of remorse to the pitiful lady by your feet.

After a few minutes of your unrelenting emotionless gaze on her and her unstopping sobs as her husband held their boy from afar helplessly, the lady raised her head to look at you.

An anger in her eyes, betrayal, anguish met your cold, frozen eyes.

“You’re no god, you’re not our creator, you’re just a mere copy..” the lady whispered spitefully, looking at you with nothing but hatred for your embodiment.

For once, in a long time, you laughed, a smile on your face, not of happiness, but of mockery, a scoffing, bashful smile.

“I’m no god? I’m a mere, copy?” You scoffed at the lady, your eyebrows raised in a mocking way, you stood from your throne, even after being able to sit on the golden seat, it still felt like it stung you, like silver does to a vampire.

It burned and stung, but it did nothing but fuel you even more. “Is this what has come of my empire? Of my beloved world?” You asked, walking slowly up to the lady who gravelled and clutched the hot concrete under her palms.

“If I had known my own children would dictate who I am, I would’ve destroyed this world to bits.” You threw that sentence out recklessly, seeing your acolytes stiffen quickly from your peripheral vision. You couldn’t help but grin at their uncomfortable faces.

“You, a mere lady, who lives on nothing but scraps, gets to tell me, a creator, a celestial being, who I am?” You snarled, your spear appearing to intimidate those who dare to anger you so.

“You’ve got some nerve, you all do!” You pointed to the crowds, who flinched and screamed in fear as you pointed with your spear, the metal shining against the sun.

Your acolytes could only wish that the sun could’ve given you it’s golden rays in a better situation, seeing as you flowed with unrelenting bravery and anger.

“I had to harm myself, to cut my flesh and show my blood, so that I wouldn’t die in this mortal form!” You screamed into the crowd, no longer holding the annoyance and disgust you held for this world.

“If I were a mere mortal with my face, you would’ve called them an imposter, burn them at the stake, like you’ve done with me!” Zhongli could only watch helplessly as your struck fear into his people, unable to stop you, for his loyalty refuses to let him move.

“You’re no people of mine, this world is obsessed with the idea of me, not my being as your creator!” The lady no longer glared at your with angry, but with disdain and anxiousness.

“I refuse to be dictated and be a holy grail for this shitty fucking world. Your people don’t deserve to be blessed with my presence nor my help.” Zhongli’s eyes could only widen, glancing at Ningguang, who was hyperventilating, watching you as you threw your spear away, it dissipating into particles.

“so suffer, suffer as I have, hope that there’s another god who’ll give you the forgiveness I will never give you.” You scoffed, you looked at the father who held his son with a life-threading grip.

Looking at you, his eyes holding a flickering flame of hope, that under all your anger, you would find the kindness to give them the mercy they’re desperately grasping at.

But you merely turned away from him, watching from your peripheral vision as the flame in his eyes extinguished, before his eyes filled, refusing to look away from your retreating figure.

“Zhongli, I want to end my appearance here and now.” You refused to look at the archon that stood by your throne as you walked past. Soon after a while, you had walked into the Liyue palace doors, finally out of public eye.

That is when Zhongli finally moves. Although being the most powerful archon, his knees buckled like that of a weak mortal, the pain and fear of his people weighing down his back.

But how can he save them? not when he knows he’s one of the many people who’s fueled this despicable behaviour in their god.

Their god who was so reverent and kind, only corrupted by it’s own creation.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 3620

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

6. Somethin' with Bananas

Steve

Steve wakes up to Bucky spooning him, pressing his morning wood against his ass. He hums with his eyes still closed, enjoying the feeling. “Mmm, g’morning.”

Hands slide onto his hips. “Mornin’ Sunshine.”

Steve smiles. “Sunshine” is one of Bucky’s favorite pet names for him. Steve is rather fond of it too, after so many years together. His husband has a knack for making him feel special like that. “What’re you doin', Buck?” he warns softly, still smiling because he likes the feeling of being explored, even if they can't take this far right now because of—

“She left for work a while ago,” Bucky murmurs, the answer to a question that Steve hasn’t asked. Alone time doesn’t happen as much as it used to, these days. "Left a bunch of baking stuff out on the counter. There's a note threatening us with mortal peril if we eat any of her bananas."

"Hmm." Steve yawns deeply and wiggles his butt back against his husband's noticeable hardon. "Whas'she makin'?"

"Dunno. Somethin' with bananas." Bucky’s hand slides to the juncture of Steve’s legs. He palms the half hard line of his cock from over his briefs, massaging the bulge as it grows. Steve moans a little and tips his head back to Bucky’s shoulder, a wordless request for kisses. Bucky starts lavishing his neck with attention while his hand continues its slow work.

Steve loves moments like this. Early morning, the sun barely out and the world quiet, the bedroom air still and thick from sleep; easy, instinctual fucking; simple and not complicated, just the two of them loving on each other. He inhales a little sharper when Bucky finally slides his hand under the waistband of his underwear. “Yeah,” he whispers.

“Mmhm.” Bucky kisses his neck. “This what you wanted, Honey?” His hand is wrapped flush around Steve now, skin on skin. He strokes once up and down and gives a squeeze, starts up a slow, tight rhythm.

“Oh.” Steve bites his lip, eyes closed as he just feels what Bucky’s doing to him. “Mm. Mmhm. S’real good.” He shivers when Bucky’s thumb swipes at his cockhead, spreading the wetness around and pressing firm against his slit. “Fuck …”

“Always were a leaker,” Bucky says lowly. “You get so wet, Honey.”

“Buck,” Steve whines. He loves Bucky’s talk in bed but he’s never been able to handle it. It turns him into a pitiful mess, every time.

Bucky

Bucky just chuckles, knowing the effect he has on him. He’s Dominant. Winding Steve around his little finger comes naturally to him, and Steve can’t say he doesn’t like it. “You were making pretty sounds in your sleep,” Bucky says, murmuring the words in between kisses on Steve’s neck. “Moaning and moving your hips a little.” He demonstrates, pushing his own hips up against Steve’s ass. Steve makes an embarrassed, whimpery sort of noise that goes straight to Bucky’s cock, and he shushes him. “Shh, no. It was hot, Stevie. You were feeling real good in your sleep, huh?”

“Y-yeah.”

“What were you dreaming about?” Bucky presses his thigh forward, between Steve’s legs, crowding him that much closer. “Hm?”

“Her,” Steve says breathily. “I … h-her.”

“Mary?” Bucky grins against the skin of his neck. “Having dirty dreams about our girl, huh?”

Steve moans—whether at Bucky calling her ‘their girl’, or at the way his other hand is now reaching down to cup Steve’s sac, isn’t clear. Bucky gives a gentle squeeze and tug, then rolls the weight of his testicles in his palm. Steve, who’s always been keen on having his balls played with, moans louder and nods against the pillow. “Didn’t mean to,” he says, as if he needs to defend his character.

Bucky grins like a shark and nips his earlobe. “Course not. You just couldn’t help it, could you? She’s always there, moaning around bites of cream filled pastries, showing off her ass in those leggings—”

Steve groans.

“—Giving us attitude every day like she wants a spanking, but dropping so sweet by the end’a the night.” He can see pink spreading around to the back of Steve’s neck and shoulders now. His Stevie colors so easily. Bucky licks delicately along the shell of his ear and whispers, “Tell me. Tell me what you did to her in the dream.” Steve moans and doesn’t answer for a long while, maybe too distracted by Bucky’s hand that’s still stroking him slowly. Bucky stills, opens his hand and presses Steve’s cock up against his stomach. “Steve,” he warns. “Tell me.”

“... Wasn’t me,” Steve mumbles, embarrassed. “It was you. You were touching her, fucking her.”

Bucky’s guts tighten in arousal. “Oh?” he breathes. “You like thinkin’ about that? Like thinking about me laying her out? Her spreading her legs for me right here on this bed?” Steve groans and nods, whining impatiently and humping forward for more. Bucky chuckles and takes him in hand again, squeezing his shaft and fondling his balls. They’re tighter now, drawn up closer to his body as he gets more worked up. “So?” Bucky needles, when he still hasn’t gotten an answer. “Is that what you want?”

“Bucky, nngh, Yes, alright?”

“Mmhm.” He chuckles softly and nuzzles Steve’s neck, enjoying his husband’s flustered state. “But you know, I think I’d like to watch you.” He can just picture it: Steve’s muscled, strong body moving over her soft curves, his big hands holding her open gently—because everything Steve does is gentle—while he makes her cum on his cock. “Yeah. You like that idea, Big guy? Me too. I wanna watch this big fat dick—” he squeezes his fist on Steve— “plowing her sloppy, making her cum so good she even cries a little bit.” Steve whines again, and Bucky hums in agreement. “Mmhm. It’d be so hot, Stevie.”

Steve squirms against him in distress. “I, I’ve never … With girls I mean. I’m not … I’ve never …” he peters off, and Bucky’s got no idea what he’s saying.

“What?” He frowns and ruts his erection against the cleft of Steve’s ass for a little relief. “What’re you talking about, Baby? You’ve been with women before. College?”

Steve shakes his head against the pillow. “No, I mean I … I don’t know what to do. To make ‘em feel good. I’m … not good at it.”

Bucky actually stops what he’s doing. Steve grunts at the lack of touch, but Bucky just hushes him and pulls on his shoulder, urging him to turn over. “Hey. C’mere. Look at me.” Steve’s face is indeed colored pink when he turns to lie facing Bucky. His eyes flick up briefly, but dart away again, shy. Bucky’s heart squeezes. “Oh, Honey,” he says, bringing a hand up to cup Steve’s jaw. “Who told you that?” He thinks of murdering whatever coed bitch might’ve made Steve feel self-conscious.

Steve looks mortified. “Nobody did. Just … I could tell. The times I was with ‘em. I couldn’t make them, you know, cum.��� He looks so ashamed as he admits it, and Bucky wants to grab him and kiss all over his entire face.

“Aw, Steve,” he coos. “Is that it? You’re nervous about being with a woman again? Not confident?”

Steve nods. He tucks himself against Bucky’s body and presses his face in his neck, hiding there. “Women are hard,” he mumbles. “I like ‘em, but it’s not easy.”

Bucky chuckles a little. “Yeah, that’s for sure. But it’s not that bad, baby. You just gotta know a few basics. Gotta take it real slow and feel them out, find out what makes her feel good. Every girl’s different. That’s the beauty in it.”

Steve grunts and ruts up against him, their cocks knocking together between their bellies. “Tell me?” he asks, eager and sweet. “Please, Buck? Tell me how.”

Bucky feels like half the blood leaves his brain, his dick throbbing anew. “Fuck,” he breathes, crazy turned on at the idea. “You want me to teach you, Stevie? Teach you how to get her crying? Dripping wet? How to touch her so good you make her cum?”

Steve shivers and nods, grinding his forehead into Bucky’s shoulder in embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah I want you to. Want you to teach me.”

Bucky pulls Steve’s head up to make him look at him. His face is pinched—embarrassed but wanting. Bucky curses. “Fuck. Yeah, yeah baby I’ll teach you how. C’mere.” He moves up the bed, pulling Steve’s meaty shoulders to get him to follow, directing him to sit in his lap, back to chest as Bucky props them up against the headboard. He spreads his legs wide to accommodate Steve’s bulk, wrapping his arms around him from behind. “My little overachiever,” he murmurs. “Such a Boy Scout, always wanting to be the best you can be.”

Steve huffs. “Don’t think they gave out merits for eating pussy,” he quips, uncharacteristically lewd. 

Bucky barks out a laugh in delight. “Well pay attention, Sweetheart. You’re about to earn that badge.” Steve shudders against him, but he’s leaning back against Bucky, slumped just a little lower in his lap. He’s ready to listen, and Bucky’s fucking hot at the chance to tell. “First thing you gotta know,” he says, speaking delicately and smoothing his hands over Steve’s sides. “Is forget what you’ve seen in porn. They make that shit for us, not them. It’s all fake. No better way to make a girl miserable than to go pounding into her or whatever else.”

Steve makes a questioning noise, and God bless him, Bucky knows instantly that this is news to the big dummy. “But …” he hedges.

“No buts, Honey.” Bucky kisses his ear. “You gotta be so gentle. Always start soft, always go slow. Start that way and pay attention to her reactions.” He skims his fingertips up Steve’s ribs, tickling lightly over to his pecs and back down, making him gasp. “Yeah,” Bucky hums, “Just like that. She might be quiet at first, girls don’t moan all loud right off the bat. They don’t get worked up as fast as we do. They take time.”

Steve nods, panting a little as he listens to him. “W-what then?” he asks.

“Listen to her breathing, the sounds she makes. She’ll start breathing heavier when you’ve got her feeling good, start making little sounds without even realizing she’s doin’ it.” Steve looses a tiny whimper and Bucky grins. “Yeah, just like that.” He reaches down and finds Steve’s cock again, and god it’s sexy how wet his fella can get. He strokes him a few times, just languidly, letting the precum guide the slide of his fist. Not hurrying. Showing Steve what he means when he says ‘slow’.

“Oh,” Steve breathes, sounding gone for it.

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees. “And then when she starts moving her hips?” He presses his crotch into the small of Steve’s back. “Just rubbing herself against you or humping up in the air a little? Oh yeah, that’s when she’s into it.” He brings one hand up to cradle Steve’s pec. “Girls are more sensitive here than we are,” he tells him. He’s looking over Steve’s shoulder now, eyeing up what he’s doing. He flicks his thumb over the nipple—so freaking small and petal pink where Bucky’s are darker. And he’s so responsive, the nipple pebbling up with hardly any effort on Bucky’s part. “Mmhm,” Bucky hums approvingly. “You want to try different things. You can just hold ‘em …” he uses both hands and cups the meat of Steve’s chest, giving a proprietary squeeze. Steve moans and Bucky smiles. “Yeah. But not too hard. Treat her tits like they’re something delicate, somethin’ special.” He makes the motion to Steve’s pecs like he would do to lightly bounce a woman’s breasts in his palms. “And Mary, she’s got smaller tits. A nice, healthy handful, just like you.”

Steve whines and squirms impatiently in his lap. Bucky glances down to check, and sees Steve’s cock; abandoned on his stomach, dark, and leaking. It’s so heavy and thick, the foreskin drawn halfway down the head, showcasing the shiny pink tip of him. Bucky curses softly. Fuck, but he wants to wring an orgasm out of that cock like ten minutes ago. But he forces himself to stay the course.

“When you use your mouth on her nipples,” he whispers, voice soft like velvet in Steve’s ear, “You can lick. Or nibble a little.” He mimics each option with a stroke and then a pinch of his fingers on Steve’s nipples, flicking out with his tongue to get the shell of Steve’s ear. “But I’ll tell you what: most of ‘em like it best when you suck.” He uses all five fingertips drawn together to pull gently at the peaks of Steve’s chest, and Steve makes a hurt, wanting sound. “Yeah,” Bucky agrees. “Suck her nipples. Then fit as much of her in your mouth as you can and suck that too.” He takes pity on Steve and reaches back down for his cock. Steve cries out, and Bucky gentles him. “Shh sh sh. Remember: slow.”

Steve groans, his tight hips flexing and pushing his cock up into the curl of Bucky’s fist. “Buck, please.”

“It’s not about you,” Bucky chides. “You’re a man. You get to cum so easy and all the time. You gotta help her get there, give her what she deserves.”

Steve sobs a little, so worked up from all the teasing, but he falls back into Bucky, relaxing against his chest and laying himself open for Bucky to continue. Pride and adoration for his man well up in Bucky at the show of submission. “Good,” he praises, giving an extra indulgent twist on the next upstroke. Steve’s foreskin moves with the motions, making soft, wet noises with all the precum he’s leaking. Bucky hums appreciatively. “Yeah, lookit that.” He draws his hand all the way up, tight, and then dips his thumb into the folds, rubbing into that wetness, against the sensitive head. “If you’re doing it right, touching her enough, she’ll be wet by now,” he says. “But you still shouldn’t go for her pussy yet. Not yet.”

“What … what else?” Steve asks muzzily, like he can’t think of anything else to do that doesn’t involve his dick getting jerked off or sticking it in a hypothetical pussy.

“Tease her,” Bucky says. “Run your hands all over her body, all over her soft skin.”

Steve sighs happily. “I like how soft they are. Smooth.”

Hearing Steve talk about what he likes about women makes Bucky’s dick throb, and he grinds it against Steve’s lower back for some relief. “Mmhm,” he agrees, moving his hands up and down the skin of Steve’s ribcage, his belly, grabbing on at his hips and giving a proprietary jostle. “Dig your fingers into her, gentle but insistent. Let her feel how much you love her body.”

“Now?” Steve asks.

“Not yet,” Bucky whispers.

“Fuck. Bucky.”

“Tease her,” he insists, ignoring Steve’s pleading. He slides his hands down Steve’s thighs and inwards, pulling them apart. Steve moans and spreads them wide. “Exactly,” Bucky says. “You want to touch her here. Run your hands all over, so close to where she wants it. Remember, if you’ve been doing this right, she’ll be wet by now.” He goes back and strokes the wetness along Steve’s shaft. “Sink down between her legs and kiss her thighs—you’ll smell it.”

“Oh my god.”

Bucky smiles, in love with his husband for how easily he comes apart under his care. He traces down to the base of Steve’s cock, making a vee with two fingers and rubbing the skin on either side. “Put pressure on her mound, really close but not touching where she wants it. Not yet.” His other hand slides down and delicately traces the seam of Steve’s sac. “Tease her, trace her folds. Get a little bit of that wetness and rub it around to make her even more sensitive. And then …” He blows gently on Steve’s ear. Steve moans. “Just like that. You want to wait. Don’t give her your mouth until she’s whining and shovin’ up at you for it.”

“Nngh,”

Bucky chuckles and circles the wet pad of his finger over one testicle and then the other. He nudges at Steve’s taut sac and whispers in his ear. “Push her lips apart.”

Steve is breathing hard through his nose, tense, his dick bobbing rock hard and angry in the air. Bucky has mercy on him and reaches for it, and Steve chokes out a sob of relief at only the slightest touch.

Bucky kisses his temple soothingly. “Shh. Here. Riiight here.” He holds the head between his thumb and fingers and starts jacking just the tip of him, foreskin tugging and gliding in that way that he knows feels amazing for Steve. “Right above her sweet spot, see? You rub on her like this, up and down, back and forth. Work the hood over her clit juuust like this.”

Steve makes a debased groan at the echo of what Bucky’s saying, and how he’s working Steve’s foreskin over the head of his dick. “Fuck, fuck,” he hisses.

“Yeah, you’re close. She’s soaked by now. You think it’s time to give her more?”

“Bucky. Yes, yes, please.” His hips are straining upwards but he lets his head loll back on Bucky’s shoulder, open for what he’ll do next. “Please,” he begs.

“Now this is important, baby, so pay attention,” Bucky says. “Some women like a mouth on ‘em down there, some don’t. Some do, but they have a hang up over how they think they look or taste or something.” Steve makes a sad noise at that, matching Bucky’s opinion that: yeah, women shouldn’t worry so much. Pussy is just generally fucking awesome. “Tell her how much you love it,” he says. “The taste of her, the shape of her lips. Make her feel pretty and wanted.” He’s fondling Steve’s balls anew as he says this, rubbing and rolling them, then cupping his whole palm over them and dipping behind to dig fingertips into his taint. “Come on, Stevie,” he goads, “Let me hear it. Tell me what you’d say.”

It takes Steve a few tries before he can pull enough of his brain out of his dick to rasp, “S’fucking gorgeous p-pussy. So … so wet. Can I lick it Honey, huh? Please lemme lick it. Wanna taste that sweet cunt.”

Bucky gasps, shocked and delighted at Steve’s dirty talk. “Oh, Stevie,” he groans. “Baby. Fuck, yes. I didn’t know you had it in you.” He wraps his hand fully around Steve’s cock and starts jerking him off fast, fast enough that it’s obvious he’s finally aiming to make Steve cum, and Steve chokes on a relieved heave of breath. 

"Yes! Oh, thank you!”

Bucky attacks Steve’s neck with his mouth, biting and smearing spit and scraping his teeth over the wet skin. He growls as he watches his fist working furiously over Steve's red, hard dick. “Suck her clit while you fuck her on your fingers,” he rasps. “Tell her she’s a good girl, tell her to ride your face, grind down on your hand. Make sure she knows she’s allowed to let go.”

Steve cries out, guttural and loud like he always gets when his pleasure is cresting. “Bucky, Buck. Honey, oh. F-fuck, m’close.”

“Mmhm. Thaat’s it, Princess,” he says, pitching his voice just so and using that name so that Steve knows. Knows he’s talking to her.

Steve whines, his whole body tight and straining into Bucky’s grip.

“Curl your fucking fingers in her,” Bucky growls. “She’s close. Don’t slow down. Don’t even speed up. She likes what you’re doing now, so don’t you dare fucking change a thing.”

“Bucky!”

“That’s it, Princess, just like that. You’re almost there.”

“Fuck, fuck … ssshit …”

“Ride Daddy’s hand, fuck back on it. Good girl.”

Steve jerks and shouts, cock pulsing in telltale contractions, before searing ropes of come shoot up his stomach and all over Bucky’s hand. “Oh, oh, oh!” He grunts through it with gorgeous sounds, and Bucky’s so in love with the sight of it that he’s not roleplaying anymore when he purrs, “Fucking beautiful, Sweetheart.”

Steve slumps when it’s over, still panting from the pleasure. Bucky eases off, sets his wet and slowly softening dick gently against his stomach. He moves them, guiding Steve to turn over and lie out on his front. He shoves Steve’s legs together and straddles them, swipes his hand that’s covered in Steve’s release into the tight space between his thighs, wetting him up. He growls viciously, pent up and rock hard and ready to fucking cum. He ruts into the wet clench of Steve’s thick thighs, fucking him like he’s got a loose, easy cunt. “Fuck, baby,” he grits, close within a matter of minutes. He chases his orgasm and collapses onto Steve’s broad back when it hits, grinding in hard one last time and shouting loud and guttural with how goddamn good it feels. “Fuck! Ughn, f-ffuuck.” 

He comes down heaving, panting against Steve’s skin. Steve is strong enough that he can roll out from under his weight, and he pulls Bucky into his arms and draws his head onto his chest. Bucky goes gratefully, happy to have Steve’s firm pecs as a pillow. “God, honey,” he breathes, wrung out. Steve makes a noise of agreement. They just lie there together, sweaty and spent, catching their breath for a long time.

“... Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“… You’re a good teacher.”

Bucky laughs and crawls up to kiss Steve on the mouth. “Yeah,” he says when they part. “But that wasn’t even the main event.” Steve looks confused for a second, before Bucky slyly clarifies: “You still gotta fuck her. And you know you want to make her cum at least twice.”

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[aspiring-house-husband]

one can only collect so much wealth before tempting the attention of a dragon. 

the young prince was spoiled and beautiful. he wore gold in every bit of his body, hanging it across his shoulders, around his neck, dangling from his ears. suitors hoping for his hand in marriage, rivals attempting peace, lords vying good favor, all manners of people came from all over to present gifts of gold and glittering jewel to the prince. he accepted all favor, but he rarely repaid. he preferred the lords who has spoiled him, and made peace with the rivals who asked, but never accepted a suitor’s hand. it only garnered their attention more. 

soon enough, his castle was drowning in gold. he kept careful stock of the golden jewelry he loved to adorn, but the gems and the coins and the clutter of gold simply got tossed into his treasury. he would spend time lounging about inside it, but that was it’s only purpose. 

except, of course, for attracting a dragon. 

it came in the dead of night amidst a storm, diving through the castle gates and lumbering through its halls. the prince was sound asleep in his own bed when the dragon arrived, and so the dragon found his treasury unguarded. he buried himself in the gold and settled, content with his new hoard. 

and the prince discovered him the next morning. unimpressed by the might of the dragon, he demanded that the great beast leave. 

but for the first time in his life, the prince felt true fear when the dragon pinned him down to the floor. Sharp claws pressed into soft skin, and the dragon’s hot breath fanned over the prince’s body. the beast’s mouth opened to reveal razor sharp fangs, and the prince felt cold chill settle in his body with assurance that he was going to die. 

but instead, the dragon lavished his tongue over the prince’s neck. 

“i taste gold on you,” the dragon said, his hot breath washing over the prince. 

“my gold, that which you’re stealing,” answered the prince, only brave enough now to grab onto the dragon’s ivory claws. 

“would i taste it within you, too, little prince?” the dragon had no heed for the prince’s anger, and his long fat tongue maneuvered through the layers of his clothes so that his teeth could follow and bare the prince beneath him. 

“so small…” the dragon cooed, “so fragile. yet warm and luminous.” the prince could not reach around the dragon’s claws to cover himself, even as the beast’s breathing chilled the tracks of saliva and sweat running over his body. 

“warm and luminous, like my treasure. my gold.”

“my gold,” the prince corrected, but he had no authority in his words. the dragon laughs as it’s great snout neared the prince’s thighs. 

“all mine,” the dragon said again, this time sliding his tongue between the prince’s legs. “this gold, this castle, this treasure… and it’s prince. all mine.”

“no, i’m-“ the prince choked himself with a moan as the dragon’s tongue passed over him again, this time spending longer lavishing itself in his wetness, growing to match the dragon’s need. “i’m not, i’m- you’re- hah, you’re in my castle! mine!”

“shh, little prince,” the dragon soothes, his voice rumbling within the castle walls. “you’ll understand soon. you’re mine.”

the prince could not respond. the dragon’s voice was invading his mind, softening his defenses. his eyelids drooped as still he looked across his now bare body, quaking with need he couldn’t quite understand. while he watched the dragon’s snout as it shoved his thighs apart, he still was not prepared for when the tip of the dragon’s tapered tongue breached him. his back arched, even into the dragon’s claws, which retracted before puncturing soft skin. 

still the dragon rumbled, vibrating deep into the prince and rippling through his mind. he could hardly think, could hardly feel but the thrusting tongue within him, exploring him, tasting him. he could not muster a warning before he came across the dragon’s tongue, and he could not muster a complaint when the dragon fucked him to sensitivity afterward. he could not move from the dragon’s claws, could not escape its tongue, even while he grew sleepy and his mind soft in the rumbling of the dragon’s voice. 

“lovely little prince,” said the dragon, daintily lifting the limp prince from the floor. his hole dripped it’s wetness across his thighs, and the dragon licked over its fangs. cradling the prince, the dragon rolled to his side to reveal his own member, and he wrapped the prince up to his stomach. his cock was much too large for the tiny man, but should the prince’s soft thighs part far enough, the dragon could nestle his tapered tip just within him. 

and so when the prince whimpered in his sleep, and slipped his soft legs over the dragon, and the dragon stroked himself and tasted the slick the prince had smeared over himself, he could cum into the prince, and leave him dripping much more than his own spend. 

the prince was a new kind of spoiled, now. he never again had the need for praise from his kingdom, when the words of a dragon were enough to drip his mind out his hole, and he could train himself to take only a few inches more of dragon cock for the reward of filling up with warm dragon cum. 

he would never quite feel whole without it again. 

[thebarontheabyss]

Happy Halloween to all dead and alive patrons of TBOTA! 👻🎃

Sharing another entry from the archive update if you haven't tried it yet—one that is just perfect for tonight. All other entries are available in the menu or during Chapter 4 of the game!

Have a spooky-but-fun holiday, and see you in the Abyss! 🖤

The Last Recordings of Ibaria Kell’ani

——————▸ Recording 001:

Finally, got this thing working.

My name is Ibaria Kell’ani. I’m a field agent of the Extrarealmic Exploration Institute of Civitas. I was taken hostage by inhabitants of realm C520, for reasons I still can’t figure out.

We were ambushed just a few miles from the gateway right after we descended into the valley. Everything happened so fast.

I… I don’t know where the others are.

When I woke up, I found myself in this chamber. No sign of my team, no sign of my captors—just cold stone walls and… silence.

Shit. I need to think.

——————▸ Recording 002:

An hour has passed since my last recording. Finally managed to calm down.

Let’s see… the important details.

So I woke up in this lavish room, not exactly what I’d call a cell. It’s... unsettling. The bed is large, almost too comfortable, with golden embroidered sheets and a flowing canopy. There’s a faucet in the corner, and a plate of fruit on the bedside table—perfectly arranged, by the way. Fresh, untouched.

Were I not a hostage, I’d give this place a five-star review.

There’s a large window overlooking the valley, and based on the view, I think I’m on the opposite side from where we landed. The elevation is dizzying. It’s way too high to climb down. I thought about making a rope from the bedsheets, but considering how far the drop is, I’d probably fall to my death.

So… let’s file that under Plan Z for now.

Oh, and the door to my room is wide open. Not locked. Not guarded. Just… opened.

I took a peek outside. There’s a huge corridor, stretching in both directions, but it’s too dark to see where it will take me. But I did see some ornate carvings running along the walls, the kind that would take lifetimes to craft.

What a strange prison cell. If that’s even what this is. I called out for my team, but the only thing that answered was my own voice, echoing back.

Nothing. No one. Just silence.

I think… I was hurt during the ambush. There’s a wound on my chest, right above my heart. I didn’t notice it at first—maybe I was in shock. But when I looked, someone had sealed it up. The stitching is crude, primitive. And yet, it doesn’t hurt.

In fact, it’s… warm to the touch.

I’ve been debating whether to leave the room. The open door feels like bait. Like part of some elaborate plan. This realm—C520—has already proven dangerous, and I’m not naive enough to believe my captors would forget to lock my door.

But it’s either that or the window. And I’m not ready to throw myself off a cliff just yet.

I’ll… I’ll keep you updated.

——————▸ Recording 003:

What is this place?

It took some self-convincing, more than I’d like to admit—but I did it. I went outside. Walked through the dark corridor, my flashlight shaking in my hand the entire way.

At the end of the hall, I found a sodden door. Behind it… there’s a worship chamber, or something that resembles one.

Oh, I should mention—my comm device. Still broken. Probably fried during the ambush. So, I’m left with my secondary recording device. It can’t do video, but I’ll keep doing these audio docs, so If anyone ever finds them…

You know, I should probably stop thinking about that.

Anyway, the chamber. It’s huge, like some sort of ancient monastery. Big statues, lined the walls, their faces obscured by time or maybe deliberate damage. I think they depicted warriors, or Gods–or both. Each statue was clutching something—heads. Humanoid heads, held like stone trophies in their cold hands. There were unlit candles scattered across the floor, and carvings covering the walls and ground. It all screamed of some kind of cult-like ritual space.

Wish Agent Joles were here. Her expertise in extrarealmic anthropology would’ve come in handy. I’m just a field agent—a grunt. I’m here to follow the experts, not to play investigator in a nightmare temple.

I wonder where the others are.

The chamber was cold, but the atmosphere was worse than the temperature. I tried to read the carvings, but without my comm device, I couldn't translate them.

There was no exit except for the way I came in, so after a while, I left. Honestly, the whole place gave me the creeps. Those statues… those heads. It felt like they were watching me as I walked away. I know that’s crazy. I know I’m probably just freaked out. But I heard rumours, about the things hiding in some of these realms.

Although, that won’t make sense, right? They scan every realm before expeditions. They check for dangers. And for safety measures, we had a whole squad of security guards. So… how did this happened, for Dominie’s sake? We were supposed to be prepared for some primitive inhabitants. What the hell happened?!

Sorry. Got carried away.

So, when I got back to my room, I downed some water from the faucet. I kind of hesitated before drinking it, but they wouldn’t poison it, right? I mean, there’s no point. They can do whatever they want to me. It’s not like a 5’4" field agent is going to pose much of a threat.

Actually, another thing I don’t want to think about right now.

I need to reassess. The sun—looks like it’s starting to set. I’ll head out again. Try to cover more ground.

Wish me luck.

——————▸ Recording 004:

Hello again. It’s morning already. I was so tired I fell asleep and forgot to record.

So… where do I start? This place is huge. And I don’t mean big in the normal sense—I mean *palatial*. A labyrinth of halls, corridors, and rooms. It took me more than two hours just to make a partial sweep, and I’m not even sure I’ve seen half of it.

There’s a throne room, of all things, sitting empty like its monarch left centuries ago. I walked past more than ten chambers—some grand, like mine, others more bare but still way too fancy to be normal cells. I found a grand hall, kitchens (complete with gleaming silverware and bowls of nothing), and long stretches of corridors leading to dead ends or locked doors.

All of it… deserted.

It’s like a whole kingdom got up and walked away one day, leaving everything behind. There’s no dust, no decay. Just vast emptiness.

No sign of my team, as well. Not a trace. Not a voice. The only sounds are my footsteps and my breathing. I tried the doors leading outside, but they’re all sealed shut, not even a lock or handle to work with. I think… the lock is on the other side?

After a while, I could feel another panic attack creeping up on me. But… I was too damn tired to let it happen. I didn’t have the energy to be scared anymore.

Instead, I stumbled back to my room, drained. The plate of fruit was still sitting there on the bed, so I ate the whole thing in one go. Honestly, I don’t even remember what it tasted like. It could’ve been cardboard for all I care. I just needed something in my system. Then, I collapsed onto the bed and slept.

When I woke up… the plate was full again. Back where it had been yesterday. Fresh fruit, arranged just as perfectly as before.

That’s when I lost it. I yelled—really yelled—until my throat hurt. Not because I was scared. No, I was pissed. Furious, actually. I don’t care what’s going on anymore. I don’t care what they’re planning or what they’ll do to me. I just wanted this stupid, endless suspense to end.

But no one came. No one answered.

No footsteps, no voices, no movement at all.

Nothing.

So here I am again, talking to this recorder like it’s a friend. I’ll… I’ll try another walk around today. There has to be something I missed. Maybe a door I overlooked. Maybe some clue that’ll help me make sense of this.

I can’t give up. Not yet.

My wound seems to be getting better. I mean, it’s not hurting anymore. Just… pulsing a bit. That’s weird, right? It doesn’t hurt, but it’s like there’s a heartbeat just beneath the skin.

I don’t know. It’s the least of my problems right now.

——————▸ Recording 005:

It’s been three days. I don’t think there’s a way out.

I’ve searched every inch of this damned place—every hall, every room, every shadowed corner. And as far as I can tell, the only real exits are the windows. I spent yesterday walking through even more fancy halls and ornate chambers, all just as grand and empty as the rest of this palace.

There’s also a garden, which… well, I have to admit was a nice break. I needed the air. But other than that… Nothing.

Every morning, the fruit plate on my bed gets replenished. I checked it this morning, waiting to see if someone would sneak in while I slept, but… no. No one. It’s magic. I saw it happen. The fruit just appeared, like it was summoned out of thin air.

That’s when I started thinking about Samir. If he were here, with his arcane knowledge, he’d probably be able to figure it out. Or at least, he’d have some theory. But Samir’s not here, is he? No one is. I’m alone.

Maybe someone managed to escape? Maybe all of them did. Maybe I’m the only one unlucky enough to be captured. Maybe… maybe the search parties are combing through the valley, following protocol, marking my absence on some cold, clinical report.

Either way, I need to be patient. I’m not in any immediate danger, right? No one’s tried to harm me, there’s food, there’s water, I’m not hurt… at least, not physically. I just need to keep my head on straight. Just be patient, Ibaria.

I had the strangest dream the other night. I was back in the chamber with the statues—the one with all those warrior effigies. It was snowing inside it—not just cold, actual snow falling from the ceiling. I remember watching it fall on those stone faces. And then one of the statues moved.

She was a woman, tall and armored, a warrior just like the others. But instead of standing there, frozen in place, she stepped down from her pedestal. She walked right up to me, took my hand, and kissed it. Her lips were cold. I could feel them, real as anything. And then she whispered, “It’s going to be alright.”

I thought about searching that chamber again, but honestly… I’m afraid to find her there.

I’m trying to stay focused, to keep some semblance of a plan.

So here’s what I’ve got:

- Plan A: Wait for rescue. Patience. Hope the Institute hasn’t forgotten me.

- Plan B: Try some of the locked doors. See if I can force my way through one of them. Maybe there’s something I missed.

- Plan Z: Jump out the window.

Let’s… hope it doesn’t come to that.

The wound on my chest is still there. It’s not hurting, but that pulsing sensation? Yeah, that’s still happening. Almost like it’s synced to my heartbeat. If I focus hard enough, I can feel it—this subtle thrum beneath the skin, warm, constant.

I can’t figure out if that’s a good or bad thing.

——————▸ Recording 006:

The others are dead.

It’s been two weeks since my last recording. Two weeks of silence. I had no reason to record. No purpose. I’ve just… wandered around this place. Lost, alone. Waiting, I suppose.

Until today.

I dreamed of her again. The woman from the chamber. She came to me every night, standing there in the snow, whispering things I couldn’t understand. But this morning… I didn’t wake up in my room.

I woke up in the chamber.

The cold stone floor was beneath me, and I could see my breath in the air, though I felt no chill. I bolted out of there, heart pounding in my chest. But something made me stop at the door. I turned back. I don’t know why. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something I’d missed.

I searched the chamber again, behind the statues this time. That’s when I found it.

A door.

It was hidden behind a statue. The door was ice-cold to the touch, frost curling along the edges, but I didn’t hesitate. I pushed it open and stepped inside.

And that’s when I found them.

My team.

What’s… what’s left of them.

Their bodies were frozen in place, scattered across a huge, cavernous room. Catacomb-like, the walls were encased in thick ice, but I didn’t feel the cold. It was like the air had been sucked out, leaving only silence, death.

Their chests were split open. Not torn or clawed at—opened. As if something inside them had burned its way out. The skin around their wounds was charred, blackened, but the rest of their bodies were pristine, preserved in the ice.

I found the professor. Sylvia.

She was my mentor. I’ve known her for years. She always had this calm, steady look about her. But now… she looks terrified. Even in death, that fear is etched into her face.

But they weren’t the only ones in that chamber. There were others. Other bodies. Explorers, I think, judging by their clothing. But not just from Civitas. No… these people were from other realms. The styles of their uniforms, the equipment scattered around—it was all different. But their fate was the same. Chest opened, frozen in ice. Like something had devoured them from within.

And then, at the center of it all, a circle of bodies.

My captors.

They were arranged in a circle, lying in perfect formation, like some kind of ritual. All of them dead. I think they poisoned themselves. There was an empty bottle in the middle, the liquid long gone. It didn’t make sense, none of it makes sense.

And at the end of the room I found… her. The statue.

The bronze woman, the one from my dreams, her form still and cold. Covered in ice, just like the rest of the chamber. But there was something about her. She wasn’t just another statue. I could feel it. Like she was watching me. Waiting.

I ran. I couldn’t take it anymore. I bolted back to my room, slammed the door behind me, and collapsed on the bed, my mind racing.

Before I left the chamber, though, I grabbed something—Sylvia’s log. Her personal notes. I’ve been combing through them ever since I got back, trying to make sense of all this.

The final entry… it must have been written just before everything went wrong. It says: *“Someone has interfered with the gateway. We are in the wrong place.”*

I don’t think anyone’s coming for me.

——————▸ Recording 007:

It’s snowing outside.

The valley is white, pristine. It’s been snowing for two days now—relentless, endless. Everything is buried beneath it. The world is so quiet.

There was once an empire here. A pantheon of warrior-gods who ruled this realm. They waged wars—horrible, unending wars. So many dead. Gods and mortals alike. We’re so similar, aren’t we?

And she… she needed someone to save her. Someone to carry her. Not all mortals are capable, she told me. She needed someone who crossed the realms, absorbing void energy. But even then, some… can’t take the weight.

So she had to try, again and again.

I’m… I’m not in control of myself anymore. I wake up in places I don’t remember going to, sleepwalking through this palace. I feel tired all the time, like there’s a weight inside me pulling me down. But she said it’s alright. It’s all part of the process. The cold is everywhere now, but she says my warmth will sustain her.

I was just a field agent. I wasn’t special. I wasn’t important. But she told me I am. I will be. I was the only one who mattered. This place—it’s been waiting for me. All of it. The halls, the statues, my throne. Waiting for me.

To take back my realm.

To lead my people to victory.

To be the war, the snow, the cold.

The wound on my chest—it's healed now. It closed days ago. I feel stronger. Clearer. More… whole than I’ve felt in a long time. I thought I’d lost myself, but no. I came back through.

Thank you, for your sacrifice. It won’t be in vain. You gave me the strength I needed. The strength to do what must be done.

I will take back what’s mine.

[moonselune]

Hello again! I am the person who asked about isobel and dame aylin, I dont mind if you do the request separately or poly. Moon girlies rise up!

poly, immediately poly, definitely no self insertion here, this definitely did not cause a minor crisis in what I want in life

Moon Lesbians x reader | All ours

You found yourself spending more and more time with Isobel and Dame Aylin. It began with shared meals and quiet conversations under the stars, moments filled with laughter and the warmth of genuine companionship. You never expected these interactions to turn into something more, something deeper. But as the days turned into weeks, the connection between the three of you grew undeniable.

One evening, you were sitting by the campfire, the flames casting a golden glow over Isobel's serene face and Dame Aylin's fierce yet tender gaze. You were recounting a particularly humorous tale from your adventures, and they both leaned in, their interest evident. As you finished your story, Aylin reached out, her hand brushing yours.

"You have a way with words," she said, her voice low and filled with admiration.Isobel, sitting on your other side, smiled softly.

"And a way with hearts, it seems," she added, her eyes sparkling.

You felt a rush of warmth at their compliments, but there was something more in their eyes, something that made your heart beat a little faster. Before you could fully process it, Isobel leaned closer, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered, "We've been talking, Aylin and I. And we both feel… something special with you."

Aylin's hand tightened around yours, and she nodded. "We want to explore this connection, if you're open to it. Together."

Your mind raced, but your heart already knew the answer. You nodded, unable to keep the smile from your face. "I would love that."

From that moment, the three of you were inseparable. Isobel's gentle touch and Aylin's protective embrace became your new normal. Nights were filled with tender kisses and whispered stories, mornings with shared smiles and intertwined hands. It was a relationship built on mutual respect and deep affection, a perfect blend of warmth and passion.

However, one day while you were in a nearby town gathering supplies, a stranger approached you, his eyes lingering a little too long, his words dripping with flirtation. You tried to brush it off, but you could feel Isobel and Aylin's eyes on you, their jealousy palpable.

Back at camp, the tension was thick. As soon as you were within the safety of your tent, they closed in on you, their expressions a mix of possessiveness and affection. Aylin was the first to speak, her voice a low growl. "Who does he think he is, trying to flirt with you?"

Isobel stepped closer, her hands gently cupping your face. "You belong to us," she said softly, but there was an undeniable edge to her words.

You couldn't help but smile at their jealousy. "I'm yours," you reassured them. "Only yours."

Their tension melted away, replaced by an overwhelming need to show you just how much you meant to them. Aylin's lips found yours in a possessive kiss, her hands roaming over your body, while Isobel's touch was softer, but no less insistent.

They took turns lavishing you with affection, their touches and kisses a silent promise that you were loved and cherished. Aylin's strong arms wrapped around you, her lips trailing down your neck as she whispered, "No one else can have you."

Isobel's hands were gentle, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin as she kissed you deeply.

"We'll always protect you," she murmured. "Always."

The night was filled with their love, their possessiveness a reminder of just how deeply they cared for you. You felt safe, cherished, and completely adored. As the dawn broke, you lay between them, your heart full. Isobel's head rested on your chest, her breaths even and peaceful, while Aylin's arm was draped protectively over you both.

In that moment, you knew that this was where you belonged. With Isobel and Dame Aylin, you had found a love that was fierce and tender, protective and all-consuming. And as long as you were together, nothing could ever come between you.

I LOVE THESE LESBIANS GODDAMN GIVE ME 20 OF THEM - Seluney xox

[zinkadear]

Midas and Lorenzo are a monogamous couple in my main universe. Kado often flirts with them, much to Midas's frustration. But he respects that they're not interested in being romantically involved with him, and doesn't try to force anything on them. He just likes to flex his muscles, blow kisses, etc.

In an alternate universe, he ends up joining the relationship. Lorenzo is much more open to it early on, but it takes awhile for Midas to get on board. There's no cheating, as Lorenzo would never hurt Midas and be romantic with someone else if he wasn't okay with it.

But Kado eventually grows on Midas, and he can't help but open his heart to the charming vampire. He asks Lorenzo if he'd like to add Kado to the relationship, to which he agrees, but only if that's what Midas really wants. He does, and when they discuss this with Kado, he's absolutely thrilled to get his new boyfriends.

There's definitely still some playful annoyance towards Kado from Midas, but he does love the silly fool. They both have a soft spot for Lorenzo, who's a total sweetheart and doesn't like to see anyone fight. Midas can't help but get jealous sometimes when he sees Kado and Lorenzo alone together, but he's instantly brought over to be cuddled and kissed by them.

I hope to someday find a character for Kado to be with in the main universe, because he's one of my favorites and I hate for him to be lonely there. I'm just not currently interested in shipping him with anyone aside from Midas and Lorenzo, and while I love them as a poly ship, I still like Midenzo on their own. So having two different versions is nice.

I'll sometimes post things with Kado being a third wheel, and that can either be interpreted as the main universe, or the second one, but before he joins the relationship. Or even when they're all together, but Midas and Lorenzo are trying to have a moment alone.

[liminalpebble]

Stray: Part 10 and Epilogue

Masterlist link

Stray: Part 10

Loki and Frigga sat across from each other in her private parlor. The younger prince was tapping his foot and fiddling with his hair nervously as he asked, “Are you sure she'll be okay? This must all be so overwhelming for her.”

Frigga smiled placidly and reached out her hand to hold her son's, stilling his restless movements. “She'll be more than fine. They'll take very good care of her. You have my word.”

Frigga let the silence settle for a moment before she said. “I'm glad to meet her. Surprised, but glad nonetheless. I can see why you are so taken with her. She has a good heart...a grateful heart.”

Loki sighed, trying to hide the depth of his feelings in front of the one person whom he could never fool. “You've met many of the men and women I'd grown fond of over the years. Is this so different for you?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant as he eased back into his chair, crossing his long legs, and stroking a finger pensively over his lips.

Frigga nodded, “For you, yes. It's very different. Or rather, you are very different. It's never been anything...real...before, has it? I've never really seen you in love before.”

“What makes you think I'm in love?”

“Love...real love...makes us all spill open a little, and I can see it. She has melted some of that ice around your heart. I didn't think it possible.”

“So you've been watching me, Mother?” he said with a smirk, which Frigga mirrored.

“Perhaps, a bit. I thought it best to let things unfold naturally. But I think the time has come to involved myself. Come with me.”

He followed her to a corner of her study, to a golden chest, where she reached in to lift out a glowing golden apple. “Do you love her, my son? Do you want a lifetime with her? Our lifetime...surpassing her own.”

He took a deep fortifying breath. “I do. So much...so much that it feels like a sort of insanity, a madness. Now that I've known her care and companionship, I can't imagine the remainder of my life without her.”

Frigga grinned and her eyes welled slightly, “Then offer her this. Help her become one of us. Help her learn and explore everything your curious minds crave. Have your adventures with your beloved for eons to come.”

Loki smiled, but just as quickly, it faded and he looked down, eyebrows furrowed with worry. “But Mother, what if she says 'no'? What if she refuses me...now or centuries from now? What if I don't deserve her? What if...”

Frigga put a finger to his mouth to silence him, “Loki, that is how love works. You risk, and you trust and you doubt and you fear, for the sake of another person. It's not a tournament to be won. It's a leap of faith.”

Without any further words, but with tears in both of their eyes, they embraced each other tightly as the prince whispered to his mother, “thank you.”

------

Loki found his human in lavish chambers, adorned in a fine Asgardian gown, and charming half a dozen ladies in waiting with your disarming demeanor. You were twirling around in the voluminous dress with a big smile, like a little girl. You were startled and blushed a little when you realized he was standing there.

“Whew! You scared me! I didn't hear you coming.”

He chuckled, offering his widest, most charming smile. His heart was bursting out of his chest at the mere sight you. “Apologies, darling. No one ever does. You look absolutely ravishing, my lovely princess,” he declared as he spun you around in his arms. He set you down lightly then held both of your hands in his.

You gave him a worried look. “What...what's wrong. Have you been crying?” you asked gently, holding your warm palm to his cheek.

“Yes. Yes I have, but they are tears of the greatest joy. I have to ask you something very important.”

He gestured the ladies away, leaving the two of you alone. You nodded, and felt the breath stop in your throat. The world came to a stand still as you wondered what he was about to say. Loki's hand gleamed green then a radiant flawless golden apple appeared in his hands. “I want to offer you a bite of this apple. If you eat of it, you will have a life as long as mine, become a goddess by my side for ages as we traverse the universe. I can't imagine a life without you...without your love and kindness and cleverness and care and your laugh and the look of joy and gratitude in your eyes when you I've pleased you. I love you...so much. Will you do me the honor of spending eternity with me?”

Giddy excitement shot up like a rocket within you, making your cheeks piping hot and bringing tears to your eyes as you met his intense ones of aquamarine. “I...I don't deserve this.” was the first thought that escaped your lips.

“Darling...you deserve all of this and more,” Loki said, pulling you close to kiss you warmly and softly, holding your face in his careful elegant hands. “Please, be my princess.”

“Yes...yes....yes! I love you, too. Yes,” was all you could say, breathing out the words over and over again as you nodded vehemently. Loki interrupted this stream of affirmation by meeting your lips again, taking his time to taste you. It would be your last kiss with him as a mere mortal.

When you finally took a bite of that otherworldly golden apple, it was the sweetest fruit you had ever tasted; almost as sweet and divine as the destiny ahead of you, almost as sweet and divine as the god holding you.

----

Epilogue

It was a gleaming bright white December morning in Seattle. Rather than rain, ice had dominated every inch of the terrain and snow glistened off the buildings. It was so cold, you thought, but at least it was sunny for a change. As you stood on the balcony of the most luxurious hotel the city had to offer, you were grateful to have this as your final memory of your city (at least for awhile). The sun was shining on you, as bright and fresh as your new life.

In another part of town, a small apartment stood clean and empty, ready for the stories of someone else's life to fill it. A polite letter and the final month's rent were dropped quietly into the landlord's mailbox. All your beloved books, records, and anything else you wanted to hang onto was tucked away, safe and sound, in what Loki called his “pocket universe”. You considered just letting go of everything you owned, pondered the appeal of a blank slate, but Loki dissuaded you. He begged you to keep your records. He wanted to dance with you to the soundtrack of your love's origin story over and over again. He could be sentimental that way.

It felt good to tie up loose ends. You made sure a gracious letter of resignation made its way to Mr. Mullen. Although Loki insisted it was far more polite than what that worm deserved, you were determined to take the high road, and he loved you all the more for that.

The last loose end was your favorite to tie up, and you did so with a big golden ribbon. Janet found a gift and an envelope tucked under the cash register that morning; her name gracing the front in elegant calligraphy. The note was a simple one.

Janet, you are always worthy. You are so young, and I know you're afraid and uncertain, but you will grow and do great things. I know it. I've run off with my prince charming. I hope to see you again someday. All my love. P.S. The gift is something to keep you warm.

Janet read it with tears in her eyes, then she opened the package to find a soft blue scarf. She held it tightly against herself. She was a little startled when her first customer of the day asked her a question, and hurried to dry her eyes.

“Oh! Sir, I'm so sorry! How can I help you?”

She looked up to see the largest man she had ever seen smiling brightly at her as his stunning blue eyes met hers. “I'm so sorry, dear lady. I hope you're not in distress. I wonder if you might aide me in selecting a 'tie'.”

He nodded his head of long blonde hair and took her hand to kiss it.

Janet's eyes went as wide as they could go in shock, and then she giggled uncontrollably, thinking, Jeez, maybe Henry does have a brother after all.

----

Loki stepped lightly over to you as he adjusted his tie and smoothed out the crisp lines of his black suit. “Almost ready, darling?” he asked in his dulcet baritone, as he came up behind you to kiss your bejeweled neck.

“Almost. Can you help me with this zipper?” You asked, giving up your struggle with the very smartly tailored traveling dress. It was a dream of soft royal purple that hugged all of your curves well (which delighted your prince). You'd swear he helped you pick out the ones with zippers in the back just so he had an excuse to do this.

Loki came up close behind you and kissed your cheek. As he deftly slid the pull all the way up he said, “Of course, but you know I enjoy sliding you out of this oh so much more.”

You both let out a mischievous chuckle then kissed sweetly, sighing with satisfaction. He helped you into your pea coat, hat and gloves, before donning his own. Opening the hotel room door for you to exit ahead of him, he said with his biggest dimpled grin, “Ready?”.

You nodded and took his offered arm. “Yes, but where are we going?”

As your polished dress shoes clicked down the hallway side by side, Loki slid his other hand in his pocket, holding tightly to a tattered green loop of leather with his name written on it. He felt his heart warm as he said, meeting your eyes, “Wherever you'd like. The sky's the limit, my love.”

@averagetmblrusser @primrosesposts @fruityfucker @arunabrak @mischief2sarawr @ladyofthestayingpower @acidcasualties @unlucky-number-13 @goblingirlsarah @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokihiddleston @chokeanddagger @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @marcotheflychair @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @littlespaceyelf @little-wormwood @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @eleniblue @loz-3 @the-haven-of-fiction @sweetsigyn @muddyorbs @icytrickster17 @holdmytesseract @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @sailorholly @coldnique @peaches1958 @infinitystoner @peachyjinx @mischiefmaker615 @jennyggggrrr @tripleyeeet @itsybitchylittlewitchy @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @madi0987 @buttercupcookies-blog @annoyingsweetsstranger @anukulee @aesonmae @angelofasgard16 @salempoe @n3rdybirdee

End Note: My dear sweet readers, I can't thank you enough for all of the love and comments and sharing and feedback. And a big thank you to @mischief2sarawr for the idea request. I fell into this story because I really really needed some softness and love and fluff right now. I hope those of you who read this in need of the same thing have found that comfort too. Sending you all of my love and gratitude, Peb.

[redheadspark]

hawuuu don't mind my last one cause someone else did the same prompt with the same character so just change it to 11. "i wasn't blushing! it was hot out." "it is literally snowing outside as we speak are you joking." With Druig still

Thank u and happy new year

A/N - HAWUU! I love this request for him since he would be in denial and all ;)! Thanks for requesting this, dear friend!

Give It

Summary - Druig was afraid to give his heart away for the longest time. Maybe it was time for a change

Warnings - Mostly fluff

“Wow,”

“Never seen snow before, Druig?”

Druig glared at Kingo as he chuckled.  The fresh fallen snow over the small London park was enough to make Druig look around in wide-eyed wonder.  It was vastly different from the Amazon, the hot sticky humidity against his skin and the blazing sun on the back of his neck.  He was used to the tall trees, the plenty of wildlife around him that would screech day and night, and even the rolling mountains and again river outside his little shack.  Those 500 years away from the rest of the world were a protective bubble for him.

But London?  That was wide-eyed for the Mind Controller.

The small park they were at was right outside of Kingo’s London flat, a lavish penthouse he just bought months before to stay in while he would shoot a movie.  After it was decided to go out to find other Eternals in other parts of the universe, the group wanted to make a pit stop in London to say goodbye to Sprite and Kingo, and for Thena, Makkari, and Druig to see London and all its glory.  It seemed tempting, though Druig was a creature of comfort.  He would rather stay on The Domo, but knowing the rest of the group, a small stop in London was not a bad idea.

In fact, it was your idea.  

Knowing that it was going to be snowing, you wanted to see the city covered in snow before you would be stuck on a ship with the other three.  You loved the snow yourself, having the ability to control and manipulate water and ice with the tips of your fingers.  It was no wonder when the group separated 500 years ago, you went off traveling to the North and explored some of the color elements of Earth.  You landed in rural Russia, having your own cabin out in the middle of the woods.  The group found you cutting down your own wood, thinking of you more like a lumberjack and in your natural element of the dead winter with freezing winds and almost below temps.  But to you, it was home.

Sersi and Sprite had an apartment not too far away, the rest of the family went over to visit and see before they found themselves at a local park.  Thena was perched on a park bench, enjoying the small peace not too far away and admiring the fallen snowflakes that were dancing in her golden hair.  Druig was watching from the side, still in his black leather jacket and boots that were winking slightly in the snow and a small shiver was licking up his spine.  He couldn’t help but shiver, not used to the cold himself, and was never a true fan of it.  Inwardly, he was mentally glad they would be on the Domo with controlled temperatures soon.

Laughter was heard over to the left, Druig looking to see a snowball fight broke out with some of the group.  Makkari, Sprite and you threw snowballs at each other, almost seeming like childcare yourself. Sprite was literally the only child, laughing her head off as she threw a massive snowball at you, but you dodged it with ease before launching back at her.  Druig couldn’t help but watch, and if he was honest, he had his eye on you for some time.

But of course, being away for 500 years he thought those feelings were buried and no longer irrelevant.  He had a small crush, that was for certain, and it lasted for quite some time back in the earlier days on Earth. Druig admired how raw you were, the stubbornness you had in the way you fought and the way you defended yourself.  Your spitfire soul and the natural beauty you had in your cheeks and curves made him entranced.  

Makkari called him a “Lovesick Puppy” a few times, but he would only shove her and let it roll off his shoulders.  He ignored the side comments from the others, thought he would stay up at night, and wondered what it would be like to be with you.  Would you even think of him the way way?  Doubtful, though you were cordial with him all the time and always confided with him with your own insecurities. Not to mention you would stand up to him when the others, mostly Ikaris, would put him down and make him feel less than he was.  You saw goodness in him, and Druig never knew that you cried when he walked away all those years ago.  He never knew you had feelings for him and found him not only handsome, but kind and filled with a powerful urge to serve and help.  

Neither of you admitted to the other.

Now, after saving the world and bringing peace to the very species that they protected for centuries, the feelings were coming back with both yourself and with Druig.  

“You can’t use your speed, Makkari!” Druig heard Sprite chastise Makkari, whom was throwing out three snowballs back to back to back.  You laughed as you grabbed some fresh snow next to your foot, making snowballs as fast as you could before Makkari slammed one into your forehead.  Sprite roared in laughter as Druig smiled, seeing your face etched in snow and a wide grin on your face.  He didn’t notice Sersi walking over to stand next to him, her kind smile as she watched Druig look on.

“You should tell her,” Sersi said to Druig, who looked over at her within a second with an asked brow.

“Tell her what?” He asked, Sersi only giving him a knowing look that an older sister would give.  Your giggle rang in the air, both Druig and Sersi looking as you tackled Sprite to the ground and tried to get some snow down her backside.  Kingo was taking pictures on his phone, though his face was then hit with a snowball thanks to Makkari and he ran off after her to retaliate.  Druig’s eyes were on you the whole time, both you and Sprite sitting on the snow ground and laughing so hard tears were seen in your eyes.  

He was a coward for so long in not saying how he felt, how he imagined what it would be like to have you in his life.  He dreamt of it at times and daydreamed during most of Ajak’s meetings or on his patrols late in the night. Druig faced Deviants before, and facing the celestial Tiamut himself was intimidating.  But he knew deep down that the scariest thing that he would ever do in his Immortal life, was telling you he liked you.

More than liked, he loved you.

“ ‘ Nobody has ever measured, even poets, how much a heart can hold’.” Sersi quoted to Druig with a gentle nudge of her shoulder against Druig’. Druig snorted as he looked at her.

“Who said that?” He asked in sarcasm, Sersi rolled her eyes.

“Mark Twain.  That’s not the point!” She said as she pointed her finger at him, “You should say something before you regret it.  And it’s quite obvious in how you’re looking at her!  You were blushing a few minutes ago when she asked you a question!”

“I wasn’t blushing!  It was hot out!” He tried to argue.

“Back in my flat it was, It is literally snowing outside as we speak, are you joking?” She asked him, seeing him about to roll his eyes as she laced their arms together, “Druig, for as long as I have known you since we’re been on his planet, I know deep down you have a massive and empathetic heart.  We all see it and love it, especially her.  You shouldn’t waste it, you should give it.  Give it to her, Druig.” 

She gestured to you, who was helping Sprite, Kingo, and Makkari make a Snowman together in the middle of the snowy meadow.  Druig couldn’t help but smile, knowing deep down that Sersi was in fact right.  He loved that about Sersi, her kindness and empathy for everyone around her was infectious and something he wished he had himself.  But he also had to wonder if she knew all this time of his feelings for you, or if the others knew.  They had to have known, and if they did they never said anything to neither you or Druig.

In the end, it was up to the pair of you to make it happen. 

“Come on, Druig!  Unless you’re scared!”  Kingo was teasing him as he was getting a few snowballs ready.  Makkari, yourself, and Sprite were behind him, already ready for a second round of a snowball fight and waiting for Druig to join.  Druig look over at you, seeing the flushness in your cheeks and how you too were filled with a sense of joy and happiness in such a simple love for snow.  Perhaps he would be brave, make the denial go away, and give his love to you. 

He carefully reach down to take some snow in his hands, the bitter cold ice against his pale fingers made him shiver as he made a ball and cocked his hand back.

He was ready.  Game on.

The End

January Prompt Session

[under-the-aspen-tree]

A Moth To You (Chapter 1 - The Realms Delight) Aegon II x (Bastard Velaryon) Reader

Series Summary: After a year travelling abroad, you have been called home to Kingslanding by your mother, Rhaenyra. Turns out your family has grown in your time apart.

Word Count: 2.7k

It was the warmest day you had seen thus far on your travels and the southern sun was beating hard against the foliage that covered you. Your linen dress lay still in hot waves against your body and sweat was already beginning to dampen your skin at barely noon, but the gentle Pentoshi breezes brought scents of sweet berry and cinnamon from the local trade towns that made the morning heat more than bearable.

It was over a year into your travels, and though you had adored the glimmering snowfall of Winterfell and the brilliant greens of Oldtown, Pentos was by far your favourite destination. Perhaps it was because the Free Cities were naturally so far from your reach, or that their customs were much lazier than your own, but you found yourself more than content to sit in these lavish lands for the rest of your days. The concept of laying upon sun-hardened sands, eating soft grapes and sipping sparkling wine filled your heart with yearning but, as always, duties always lay in wake.

"It is too hot a day for you, Princess," the voice awoke you from your pleasant daydreams, but not frustratingly so. Reluctantly, you lifted your heavy eyelids to find a man hunched over you in silks as fine and yellow as the sun above. You cracked a tired smile.

"Illestrio," You cooed, shifting your arms to pull yourself into sitting as he knelt beside you. "What brings you to these gardens?"

Illestrio was the fine son of the Lord kind enough to take you and your grandmother in. Rhaenys wasn't immediately besotted at your yearnings to explore further than Westeros, desiring your tour to be restrained strictly to the lands of your birth, but had eventually come around to the idea. The Pentoshi Lords and Ladies seemed more than happy to take in the blood of the dragon, delighted with the sights of your beasts, but Illestrio's father had a long history of trade with your grandfather, Corlys, and was the first to offer you lodgings.

It was only chance that had brought you so close to his son, not only in age but also in habit. You both shared a love of music, adventure, and fine wines, and he had been more than happy to be your escort through the trading towns of Pentos. He had shown you the most lavish of spices, drinks, and scenery and, in return, you had become his royal armpiece. It was by far the most comfortable of positions you had ever held.

"I was looking for you, Princess," Illestrio flashed a white grin before offering you a hand, making to stand. "Your grandmother has requested your presence in her chambers."

You stilled a groan, bundling your skirts up as you clasped his golden hand, feeling the warmth tingle from his adornment of thick rings. In the few months you had spent in Pentos, you had gained a healthy glow to your usually pale skin, but it was nothing in comparison to the years of relentless Summer that the Pentoshi had endured. "Is there any particular reason she has given for disturbing my morning?" You said cheekily.

"I'm afraid not," He smiled, leading you back towards his father's estate. "Let us hope it does not take long. I was hoping to show you the wonders of the pink lakes this afternoon."

Rhaenys' chambers were close enough to your own that it wasn't ever difficult to wander the maze that was Illestrio's home to find her. It was certainly a lavish estate, built up of polished white stone and marble with grand windows that overlooked their gardens and gold trinkets wherever one looked. You were certain their wealth amassed your own by a long stretch, and Illestrio's father loved to show that in every way he could find. On your first day in his manor, he had presented you with a solid gold box encrusted with rubies containing jewellery so fine the chains trickled through your fingers like water. You had never been one for extreme displays of wealth, but you couldn't deny that you loved the simplicity of your life here. Back home in Westeros, even with your family name and the luxury that came with it, you were looked at with a level of scorn. Your dark hair and eyes earned you the rumour of bastard, along with your brothers, and whispers never failed to reach your ears when walking the corridors of the Red Keep. Here, however, your dragon and single thick lock of silver hair were enough to be treated like more than royalty - more akin to the gods the Valyrians were often compared to. 

When you knocked on your grandmother's door, you knew the news could not be excellent. Usually, when you two met, it was for fruits and sweets in the gardens or a tour of the orchards, never alone in one's chambers. Rhaenys was sat with her back to you, facing out towards the window where she had a view of the stoney mountains in the far distance. Her black hair shone brilliantly in the afternoon sun and her thick silk gown gave her the silhouette of someone much younger than her years. Even despite your time in the Free Cities, and the many gifts of traditional dresses and shoes your hosts had provided, she still chose to dress in your own Westeros customs. 

"Sit," She said, not turning to face you, keeping her eyes locked on the terrain before her. You did so, not failing to notice the trunks that piled up in the corner of the room. You pursed your lips for a moment before walking towards her.

"Grandmother, how are you?" You smiled politely, shaking off the concern for her travelling possessions as you made yourself comfortable in a plush chair opposite her. She did not respond immediately, but her hand slipped from her goblet and towards a small piece of parchment sitting on the table between you both. She pushed it towards you.

"Is everything alright?" You frowned, snatching up the stained paper and drawing your focus to the slanted writing. Your mother's writing.

"I am afraid our time travelling has come to an end, Princess," She said, finally turning her gaze to your own. "Your mother has requested our presence in Kingslanding, and it is perhaps long overdue."

You spluttered at her words, quite unladylike, as you read the words again and again. "But.. we've barely seen it all yet. What reason could she have for sending us home?"

Rhaenys pursed her lips. You knew she was not opposed to returning to Westeros. You remembered the promise you made when she agreed to the trip over a year ago. 'I will do as you wish, and you shall see the world, but once we are done you will resume your duties faithfully.' 

You had agreed of course, thrilled at meeting your wishes of adventure, but you had been putting off the idea of returning for some time now, convincing Rhaenys time and time again to prolong your stay in Pentos for as long as possible. Despite adhering to your wishes, you knew your grandmother missed Driftmark, where you had left your Uncle Vaemond and cousin Baela to defend her home while Corlys fought in the Stepstones.

"Our travels are completed, my child. It is time to resume our duties in Westeros."

You could see in her eyes that she felt for you, but that the decision was made and final. Rhaenys knew you wouldn't object, keen to your word, but that you would mourn for the life you were living in Pentos. 

"How long before we go?" You averted your eyes to the landscape, twisting the satin gold of your necklace.

"We leave at sunrise in the morn. I would suggest you set your affairs in order." You almost missed the gentle wink she sent you, and a wave of melancholy washed over you at the thought of alerting your friend to the sudden change of plans.

______

"Tomorrow?" Illestrio's face was a mask of shock and fury from where he stood at the entrance to your chambers, thick brows drawn together as he regarded you. You had wanted to break the news to him on your afternoon visit to the pink lakes, or perhaps in the shade of the pergola outside over honey wine and lemon cakes. But you had too much to pack and too little time. Your trunks were thrown open beside your bed, filled with your possessions and a few trinkets you had amassed during your tours, most gifts from the man before you.

You did not pause from your packing, only granting him a sideways glance as you gathered your life within your hands and put it all in cases. Would these fine dresses ever see their homeland again?

"My mother has demanded it, I have no choice." You said softly, busying yourself. You were afraid that if you stopped for too long, and stared into those doe-like eyes and golden skin, your resolve would shatter. "We always knew the day would come."

"But not so soon," Illestrio protested, stepping forward to take hold of your arm. "I thought we would have much more time together. There are so many places I have yet to show you."

Places you would never get to see. Hot tears suddenly stung your eyes and you had to blink furiously to push them aside as he forced you to look at him. At his thick curly hair that he could never tame, as his pouted lips and slender nose and perfect cheekbones. He shifted his hand to take hold of your cheek as the other ran through your hair, fingers slipping through the silver segment. You noticed he did this a lot, separating the strands from the deep brown and staring at them as though bewitched. He did not look into your eyes, simply regarding the white locks. 

"Stay," He whispered.

You took his hand into your own, thumbing a thick golden ring on his first finger. "I can't."

"You know what your mother wants, Princess." His gentle tone was turning into a pleading and you had to tilt your head down to stare at his chest. "You know what your duty is to her house."

"It is my house too," You reminded him, but you knew what he spoke of.

"Then ignore her. Forget those fat lords in Westeros. Marry me tonight." The suggestion had you looking up in shock, wide-eyed. 

"You cannot be serious."

The steel glint in Illestrio's green eyes answered for him. You had enjoyed your time with him here, of course, and you would be a fool to ignore the stirrings in your chest that came whenever he approached, but you thought you were both aware of where this would end. You made to speak, but he cut you off.

"Would you be happy in the tower of some old man, bearing his children, sitting at his table? The prize possession of an idiot who hasn't a care for you but for your name?

"You would be happy here. Winter does not touch us the way it does Westeros. You would live out your days warm and happy and carefree." He was bargaining now, trying to convince you. You did not need convincing. If you could, you would accept the offer in a heartbeat.

"Illestrio," You shook your head, holding out your palm to caress his cheek. "I have always known I would marry for my house. I am a princess and I have a duty to my houses and the realm to marry for position."

"And what of Saera Targaryen?" Illestrio countered, looking at you with hardened desperation. You baulked at the comparison. "She abandoned her duties and lived out her life in Lys."

"Saera was practically exiled," You reminded him, frowning. "She resorted to the ways of a whore to escape her duties. Do you wish for me to have the same remembrance? The whore of Velaryon?"

"You would not be a whore," Illestrio huffed. "You would be my wife. You would be happy."

You pulled away. The conversation was going nowhere and you could see that now. No amount of reasoning could persuade Illestrio from his stance, and none could move your own. You had always hated the idea of being a political chess piece, but it was who you were born to be.

"I will leave at sun break," You informed him, brushing tears from your eyes as you turned back to your packing. "I would appreciate it if you could see me off."

Illestrio was silent for a moment, but you could feel his eyes like steel daggers boring into your back. "When your husband takes you on your wedding night, remember this. Remember what you could have been while staring into his eyes."

You whipped around, outraged at his words, but he was gone before you could face him. Your lip wobbled, fury turning your cheeks red and hot, but nothing could be done. You let out a single shaky sob as you threw the linen garment you were holding into your trunk before turning to the vase of wine on your table and pouring yourself a goblet-full.

The morning brought light northern breezes through the dockyard, sending spirals of sand whirling beside the waters. With the sun just barely setting the sky alight, you would have quite liked to spend your time wandering through the local towns rather than blinking sleep from your eyes as you waited beside the ship that would carry you home. Rhaenys was having words with Illestrio's father, who looked quite furious to see his son was yet to make a farewell appearance, and the crew was traipsing on and off the boat as they readied it for your leave.

When the time came, Illestrio's father, a large man with a heavy moustache on his upper lip and clothes so expensive and colourful he reminded you often of a court jester, took you into a heavy hug before kissing the back of your hand.

"Thank you for the gift of your presence in my estate, Princess," He smiled. "I hope to see you here again."

You smiled tightly at the words, curtsying lightly as you were forced, yet again, to hold your tears at bay. You would not mourn this man whom you scarcely knew, but you would mourn his home. "Thank you, my Lord, for offering your home to us. This past month has been the happiest I have known."

The man lit up proudly at your words, puffing out his great chest and smoothing the bright blue silks he wore against his body. "You are most kind, Princess."

The ship rocked gently as the waters turned from black to violet silver in the sunrise. Gold sunlight bore heavily as the sky turned a clear and gentle blue, reflecting the heat-stained houses of Pentos as you took sail. Even as the ship took up speed, turning Illestrio's father into a colourful blob and then to nothing in the distance, you could not turn your watering eyes from the city you had grown to love. You didn't want to turn your back on it, towards the fate that awaited you in Kingslanding, for you feared that if you looked away you would soon forget the Pink Lakes and Cinnamon breeze if you did not spend all your willpower on committing the sight of Pentos to memory.

You didn't want to go home. You wanted this, this lifestyle of luxury beside Illestrio, trying to teach him Valyrian and laughing at his strange accent when he failed to pronounce the words. You wanted to stare at his gentle hands as he traced out the letters to his own alphabet, more interested in his hands than the words he was speaking.

Rhaenys joined you as you bore ever further from the lands, dark hair swaying gently from the tower of plaits she had spun it into. You broke free from your contemplations, but continued to stare out towards to silhouette of the city. 

"You will not be forgotten here, Princess." She reminded you. "These people did not know Rhaenyra, but they knew her name."

You did not face her as you pondered her words, turning your head slightly to show you were listening. "From Winterfell to the Free Cities, they all call you the Realms Delight."

[jaesqueso]

Golden Hour (m)

pairing: playboy!mark x female!reader

summary: you decide it’s your turn to have a slice of mark, but he’s the one who’s been cooking you up

word count: 2,075

warnings: teasing, oral sex, protected sex, some crack cause this is a mark fic after all

a/n: it’s been a long time coming but here it is! (I hope my mark era dies off a little bit now because I can’t take it anymore 🥵) I hope ya’ll enjoy it ❤

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

Your body sways to the music as sensually as you can. Between the sweaty bodies on the dance floor, you see him, surrounded by three girls that came out of nowhere. Cheeky smiles, fake laughs and not so innocent touches. You’re fuming, but you can’t blame them, Mark Lee knows what he’s got and has no plan to hide it. You can tell by those tight leather pants and half unbuttoned silk shirt showing a glimpse of his chest that has been teasing you all night.

From the moment he walked into the restaurant, half an hour late making everybody wait as usual, you knew tonight was the night you’d get your share of the playboy. As dinner went on you almost reconsidered your choice by watching him be so picky on the food and with the staff, like he is a chef himself. Hell, the boy couldn’t even cook an egg to save his life, for Gordon’s sake. Sometimes you don’t even know how you can be friends with someone like him, but somehow you try to remember the old days, before the lavish lifestyle, when he was just Dorky Markie.

When the party moved to the Golden Hour, the must luxurious club in town, you knew that’s where you’d make your move, but he sure isn’t making your life any easy. Clamming he needs him a “real freak tonight” and asking the ladies to wait for him as he steps inside, Mark hasn’t had one minute alone. But then the stars align and this one song starts playing.

Back in college, in a drunk game somebody ask him what was the hottest song to dance to and this one was it. Focusing your eyes on him, you start your one woman show, that you may or may not have rehearsed thousands of times in your room, lip syncing to every words like you wrote it yourself.

It takes him a while but he finally notices your impatient eyes and the way you move your hips. As if enchanted by your body, Mark leaves the girls rolling their eyes as he makes his way to you, quickly matching your moves. You dance as close to him as you can, guiding his hands to your sides where he takes opportunity to explore a little.

Turning around, you make sure your ass is glued to his crotch as you roll your hips. You can feel his heavy breathing on the crook of your neck, making you close your eyes with a smile as you feel yourself closer to your goal.

When the song changes into an equality sexy one, you wait to see if he moves on to another random girl, or girls, but to your surprise he doesn’t. His hands hold your body with desire, not showing any signs of letting go.

“I knew you’d eventually give in.” His lips gently touch your ear as he speaks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play innocent.

“Oh, we’re playing that game?” He chuckles. “Alright then.”

“I thought you already had company for tonight.” You nod at the girls who are clearly gossiping about you.

“Those those three?” He snorts, rolling his eyes. “They’re just an appetiser. When it’s all said and done, I want you.”

Quickly you turn around and look into his eyes. Is he serious or is this some sort or trick from the play book? His expression looks sincere, for a moment you see the sweet Mark you once met, the Mark you’ve been secretly crushing on all these years. For a moment you see the Mark you always wanted to kiss. So you do.

You’re not usually this forward but he definitely seems to like the sudden approach by the way his hands pull your waist to him, bodies impossible close as your mouths move in sync on a passionate intense kiss.

When you part, both of you are breathless, like you kissed for hours. Or maybe simply because you did something you both have been longing to do but too afraid to take the risk.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Mark suggests, clearly cooking something up.

“Really?” You hear it but you almost can’t believe it.

“Yeah. You see, I got a big… Hm…” Taking your hand, he places it right on the bulge growing on his pants. “I got a really big problem…”

“Oh my…” You gulp, it does seem like a huge problem. “I guess we better go fix it.”

“Good girl.” Rolling your eyes, you take his hand and lead him to the exit.

Once outside he’s quick to grab a cab to take you both to his place. You kind of feel bad for the driver that has to endure what’s happening in the back seat, but you can hardly keep your hands off of each other. The way to his apartment is equally troubled, but you don’t want to leave space for him to change his mind about what’s about to happen, now that you got a taste of him you just need more. But as you enter his place, you can’t help notice the peculiar decoration.

“I’m kind of obsessed with myself.” He smirks nodding at the several photoshoot posters of him on the walls.

“I can see that…” You cringe a little bit inside. “But how about we change the focus for tonight?”

Slowly you start to undo the dress you carefully choose for tonight. Blue, his favorite color. The thin fabric falls to your feet, leaving you bare in front of him. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Mark speechless, he always seems to have a smartass comeback to everything these days, but right now no words seem to come out of his mouth as he admires your body, jaw slightly hanging.

“What do you say, Mark?” You try to keep your cool, but suddenly wondering if you’re being too forward.

“I say…” His expression finally warms up back into a smirk. “Let the feast begin.”

Embraced again into a heated kiss, he lifts your body, that instantly wraps around his, and carries you to his bedroom. You get thrown into the mattress, landing perfectly in the middle, head on the pillows. Standing in the end of the bed, he licks his lips before diving into you.

A trail of kisses goes down from your lips down to your legs as his hands trace your curves. Gently he spreads your tights and lowers his face right in front of your throbbing core. Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself to feel his mouth on your wetness but nothing happens. Looking down you notice he has his eyes closed and hands together almost like he is… Praying?

“Mark?” You raise an eyebrow. “What are you-”

“You should always say grace before your meal.” He glances up at you with a smirk. “Bon appétit.”

His lips finally connect with your clit, licking and sucking like he hasn’t had a meal for days. Rolling your eyes, your hands grasp the sheets as moans fly out your mouth. His tongue traces intricate shapes between your folds making you lose your mind as you squirm in the sheets.

Holding your hips in place, Mark keeps devouring your pussy like he’s in a buffet. If only you’d known his head game was this strong, you would’ve made this happen a long time a go, he may be cocky but he sure knows what he’s doing.

When his fingers join the party, easily sliding inside your wet hole, you realise his mouth is not the only thing he’s remarkably skilled with. You wonder if he can fuck you as good as he can eat you out. But you don’t think about it for too long because with the way he massages just the right spot inside you along with the movements on your clit you don’t even sense your orgasm coming until you’re screaming his name.

After riding you off your high, he makes his way back up your body, mouths colliding with longing. Your hands wrap around his back and you notice he’s still fully clothed. Messily you ged rid of his shirt before your roll your bodies around, placing you on top of him.

“My turn.” You smirk as you take your time adorning his pecks and abs with kisses.

Slowly you undo his pants before your mouth reaches his happy trail. You miss calculated how hard it would be to get him out of those tight sexy pants, but after his help, in between laughs, he’s finally all in display.

You have no idea how the fabric didn’t give away trapping his big hard cock that stands tall in front of you, but you don’t really care about that now. Mark hisses when your tongue swipes on his tip, tasting the precum. Fuck, it’s delicious. He’s delicious.

Taking all of his length in your mouth, you almost choke once you reach the base, but the whiny sounds he makes give you strength to keep yourself together and start bobbing your head up and down.

Soon your throat gets used to the feeling of him and you fasten your pace on his dick. Your hands help out, one the base and another one showing his balls some love. Glancing up your delighted to see his face squirming in pleasure as his chest heaves.

You’re too enrolled on what your doing that you barely notice his hand tapping your shoulder to get you to stop. Releasing his dick with a pop, you look at him wondering if you’re doing something wrong.

“Come here.” He signals you to move up his body, which you quickly do. “I don’t want to cum in that pretty mouth of yours.”

“Why not?” You pout, making him smile.

“There’s somewhere else you’d rather cum in.” Grabbing your hips, he pulls you right on his lap, cock rubbing between your folds.

“Even better.” Smirking, you give him a sloppy desperate kiss as you start to align him with your entrance.

“Wait, wait.” Stopping you, Mark reaches his bedside table to pull out a condom. “I’ve been kind of a whore. Better safe than sorry.”

“You’re gross.” You roll your eyes. “But at least you’re responsible.”

Snatching the condom off his hands, you open it yourself and roll it down his length. Adjusting your position, you finally let yourself down on his cock, feeling every inch of him fill you up. Once you go all the way down, you both let out a shaky breath.

Steadily you start moving your hips. He watches your breasts bounce through half lidded eyes and you take his hands placing them on top of your mounds. Instantly he massages them as you ride him, moans and whines filling the air.

Mark starts to buck up against you and you know he must be getting close. You try to bounce faster but with another orgasm just around the corner your movements are sloppy and uneven.

Needing more, he suddenly sits up, making you fall back just a little as his arm wraps around your back. In this position, he’s able to control the speed, thrusting harder and faster, desperately chasing his high.

When he cums, you can sense the warmness inside you as his movements slow down. You slowly roll your body to ride off his high, thinking that even though you didn’t get a second go, this was still amazing. But apparently he was not finished.

You gasp when you feel Mark’s thumb on your clit moving in circles, his tired cock still buried inside you. Letting your head fall back, you mumble about how close you are, begging for him to keep going. And he does. Only stopping when your body starts trembling, making him hiss at the way you squeeze around his length.

Gently, he pulls your torso against him, holding your face in front of his to give you one final kiss before laying you both back down. With a sigh, you move out of his cock, sprawling your body next to his as you pant, mind hazy with pleasure.

“You know,” he takes off the condom, tying it up and throwing it away, “we live in a world that constantly tries to take you away from you. Everyone is being everyone but themselves. Here but not around. Wait, but what does that mean?”

“I have no fucking idea, Mark.”

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

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unable to tag: @chenleyang @doahflix @criminalmindsz

[musezieren]

A rewrite of Act II's Tollhouse

The Tollhouse stands as a grand, imposing structure, more mansion than mere office. Originally built to handle the mundane tasks of toll collection and paperwork, it quickly evolved under the influence of Lady Gerringothe Thorm. Unwilling to be confined to a humble workplace, she expanded the Tollhouse into an opulent mansion, claiming it was necessary to impress merchants and travelers passing through Reithwin Town. The building's grandeur masked the corruption and dark dealings within, its lavish facade concealing the sinister reality of Gerringothe’s insatiable greed and the horrors lurking in its depths.

Introduction:

In the desolate Shadowlands, hope is a scarce commodity, confined to the sanctuary of the Last Light Inn, protected by the divine power of Selune. The land is a wasteland of ruins, haunted specters, and memory orbs filled with nothing but grief. As the party embarks on their journey towards Moonlight Tower, they will encounter the ominous Tollhouse. Upon crossing its threshold, they are engulfed by a blinding light and the maniacal laughter of an unseen entity, setting the stage for a nightmarish ordeal.

Main Quest: The Tollhouse of Illusions

Upon opening their eyes, the party finds themselves no longer in a ruin but in a grandiose Tollhouse, part bank, part mansion. The opulent interior is adorned with gold and lavish decorations. Chandeliers of glass and gold illuminate a hall filled with masked guests and a haunting orchestra. To their shock, the party’s attire has transformed to match the setting—some wear luxurious gowns and suits, while others are garbed as servants.

They are greeted and either welcomed as honored guests or hurried to assist in the kitchen for Lady Gerringothe’s grand birthday banquet. Attempts to break the illusion result in searing headaches, and any deviation from their assigned roles is met with freezing stares that evoke primal fear. The exit is sealed, trapping them in this eerie masquerade.

To escape, they must uncover the dark secret of the Tollhouse, expose Lady Gerringothe's corruption, and bring her to justice.

Parts of the Quest:

Talking to the NPCs:

Servants: Only those in servant roles can converse with the servants, who speak of the ongoing war, missing family members, and subtle hints about Gerringothe’s corruption. Whispers of something terribly wrong in the basement may also surface.

Nobles: Nobles will engage with those in noble or merchant roles, expressing relief at the distraction from the dreary war. The war has not yet impacted the upper class, who complain mainly about distracted servants.

Merchants: With enough persuasion, merchants reveal their fear of Gerringothe and their entrapment in Reithwin Town. They mention the mysterious disappearances of those who could no longer pay for their stay.

Finding Evidence:

Gerringothe's Office: Search the ledger for proof of Gerringothe extorting more toll than Ketheric ordered, and find a diary filled with her curses against him.

Basement Horrors: The true horrors lie in the basement—where holding cells house servants in a state of half-lucidity, their limbs, faces, and insides grotesquely transforming into gold as if afflicted by a horrific illness. In other cells, piles of mutilated corpses lie, their bodies robbed of limbs and organs. The party can release these tortured souls from their suffering and search the bodies for lockets, papers, and other forms of evidence. Further exploration reveals a macabre vault filled with gold, jewelry, and golden body parts—the grim remnants of an unfinished spell intended to transform entire bodies into gold. This chilling discovery exposes the full extent of Lady Gerringothe's malevolent sorcery and the atrocities committed within the Tollhouse.

Judging Gerringothe:

With sufficient evidence, the party can disrupt the ball, claiming to be sent by Ketheric or a merchant guild. Presenting the evidence, they must confront Gerringothe and force her to face the consequences. This can be achieved through persuasive speech checks, making her realize her downfall, or through combat.

Upon her defeat, the servants, merchants, and ghosts of the basement’s victims will bow with smiles of release, and the Tollhouse will revert to its ruined state.

Conclusion:

The eerie glamour dissipates, leaving the party standing in the dilapidated remnants of the Tollhouse. The ghosts are at peace, and the dark chapter of Gerringothe’s reign of terror is finally closed. The party is free to continue their quest, having uncovered and vanquished one of the malevolent forced that haunted Reithwin Town.

Alternative Ending:

A different method might involve confronting Gerringothe in secret and blackmailing her for gold and safe passage without paying a toll. This morally dubious choice ensures the party's escape but leaves the souls tied to the Tollhouse, forever trapped in the endless illusion. This selfish decision condemns countless spirits to an eternal nightmare, their suffering a haunting reminder of the price of greed and cowardice.

[isadoresmuse]

Consuming Desires

Note:  The following fanfiction contains mature content and is intended for readers who are 18 years old or above. Reader discretion is advised. While this story explores a power dynamic and intense emotions, it is essential to remember that consent and respect are crucial in any relationship.

The reader is only referred to as “you”/ Gender Neutral.

Word Count: 689

Yandere CEO OC x (Gender Neutral) Reader

As the sun set over the towering skyscrapers of the city, casting a warm golden glow, (Y/N) hurriedly gathered your belongings. Another long day as the assistant to the aloof CEO, Mr. Sebastian Blackwood, had come to an end. With a stack of papers clutched tightly in your hands, you made your way to his opulent office, the one place where their worlds converged.

The assistant's heart pounded in your chest as you reached the grand oak door. Knocking gently, awaiting his permission to enter. "Come in," his deep voice commanded, sending a shiver down your spine. (Y/N) pushed open the door and stepped into his domain.

Mr. Blackwood sat behind his mahogany desk; his brown eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your knees weak. He was a man of power, commanding respect from everyone in the company. His cold exterior hid a turbulent and obsessive nature, a lust simmering just below the surface.

"Mr. Blackwood, I've compiled the financial reports you requested," (Y/N) said, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. You placed the papers on his desk, your fingers brushing against his as you did so. The contact was electric, and a fleeting moment of vulnerability passed between them.

His hand shot out, grasping yours tightly. "Thank you, (Y/N)," he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of gratitude and possessiveness. His touch lingered, his thumb caressing the back of their hand, sending shivers down their spine.

As their eyes locked, the air crackled with a complex tension. The power dynamic between them was palpable. (Y/N) was both captivated and terrified by the strength of their attraction to this mysterious man.

Days turned into weeks, and the undeniable chemistry between them only festered. Mr. Blackwood's masked lustful nature grew stronger, he wanted you, his sweet dutiful assistant. With that came increasingly protective of (Y/N), more interrupted conversation with male coworkers, less break time, and he couldn’t have you wandering around the office with the way men ogled you. He showered you with lavish gifts and unexpected gestures of affection (affection by his definition, brushing hands or standing painfully close that his body heat radiated off him), all while maintaining an iron grip on their professional relationship.

One evening, as the rest of the office emptied, leaving (Y/N) alone with Mr. Blackwood, he made his move. "You've become indispensable to me, (Y/N). I need you at my beck and call at all times, do you understand?" he ordered, his voice husky with desire.

Caught in his heated gaze, (Y/N) felt their resolve crumbling. His power was intoxicating, a dangerous allure that pulled you deeper into his web. You knew the risks, the consequences of indulging in this taboo connection, but the allure was too potent to resist.

The assistant found themself surrendering to his advances, allowing his touch to ignite a fire within. Their encounters were clandestine, hidden within the confines of his office. Behind closed doors, Mr. Blackwood unleashed his primal desires, while (Y/N) willingly submitted to his dominance.

Their power dynamic was palpable, each encounter further blurring the lines between professionalism and passion. (Y/N) became both his assistant and his muse, your purpose in his life intertwined with the intricate dance of desire and control.

But as your illicit affair consumed them, whispers began to circulate throughout the office. Jealousy and curiosity fueled the rumor mill, threatening to expose their secret. The threat of discovery only heightened the intensity of their encounters, each moment becoming more desperate and primal.

In the depths of their forbidden passion, (Y/N) found themself torn between the thrill of their stolen moments and the fear of what could befall them if their secret were revealed. Yet, despite the risks, you couldn't deny the intoxicating power Mr. Blackwood- no, Sebastian held over you, nor the unyielding desire that consumed them both.

Their dynamic danced on the edge of reason, a dangerous game they couldn't resist. In the shadows of the corporate world, their connection thrived, fueled by their shared hunger for control and submission.