#swords x sorcery

[peppermintpuffs]

theyre on a date :)

[peppermintpuffs]

Mylo/Gale - Crazy For U by Big Time Rush

(Could make a playlist for them that would be mostly filled with BTR tbh)

Kava/Gale - E.T. by Katy Perry

(My Durge run :^) thought this was a funny choice if seen as the song being Gale’s pov lol)

Fuck it we cringeposting.

Tell me:

Pulling from the playlist from your childhood where you imagined AMVs of your favorite pairings, what “cringe/basic/goofy/maybeOOC” song would you use for your Tav x NPC/Companion ship.

I’ll go first:

Rackal/Rolan— Untouched by the Veronicas (because one of us had to take the fucking bullet for this one)

[katiajewelbox]

Although it's late by two days, Happy 24th Anniversary to the Escaflowne the Movie: A Girl in Gaea! This action-adventure anime film with breathtaking animation hit Japanese movie theatres on June 24th, 2000 and later appeared in cinemas in Europe in 2001 and in North America in 2002.

Here is a selection of official promotional art for the movie found on the online art gallery Minitokyo.

In my opinion, the story and characters are not nearly as engaging in the movie version but the animation is amazing. I also like the character designs and the earthy sword and sorcery aesthetics with an apparently Central Asian and Japanese cultural flavour. What's your opinion of the Escaflowne movie?

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Ranni and the Tarnished's Children

So, I've been replaying Elden Ring, getting hyped for Shadow of the Erdtree, so I wanted to imagine what children Ranni and the Tarnished might have. If you believe they're physically incapable then just imagine they magicked them up with God-Powers or something.

ONTO THE KIDS!

-

-

Blaiddyd (pronounced: Bly-thid) (Translated: Wolf Lord).

Named for his uncle Blaidd the Half Wolf, Blaiddyd is the eldest Demigod child of Ranni and her Consort. Tall and blonde, he actually takes after his uncle Radahn quite a bit, being loud, friendly, and boisterous. In Build terms, he's an STR/Faith build, drawing on his faith in his parents rather than in any of the Gods like the Golden Order.

Blaiddyd has an intensely protective streak for his younger siblings and is generally an outgoing and friendly guy. But he does have a wolf's temper and can be a devil in the battlefield, entering something like a Berserker rage.

Blaiddyd fights with the Claymore and his Incantations, especially the Black Flame incantations of the Godskins using the Godslayer's Seal. Both his parents are a bit concerned about his interest in those arts. However, in serious situations, he uses the Sacred Relic Sword, entrusted to him by his parents as a show of trust and faith.

-

Rhiannon (pronounced: Ree-anne-on) (translated: Great Queen)

Named for her grandmother, Rennala of the Full Moon, Rhiannon is actually one of a set of twins. A quiet and reserved girl with pale skin and the red hair of her mother's true form, Rhiannon prefers her actions to speak over her words. She's a DEX/Faith build, relying on speed and incantations and her faith in her family to see her through.

While naturally taciturn, she is actually quite shy as well, and has a hard time speaking to other. She is a Demigod, like Blaiddyd, and often proves the more level headed one when she commands on the battlefield with her brother.

Rhiannon prefers spears and knives in combat, using Incantations only to bolster her already remarkable agility and dexterity. She prefers the Cross-Naginata if she had to choose, and also uses the Dragon Communion Seal as those are the incantations she prefers to use and is renown as something of a Dragon Hunter for it. But in dire circumstances she uses the Bolt of Gransax.

-

Idris (translated: Ardent Lord)

Named for his uncle Iji, Idris is a brilliant scholar of a Demigod, spending most of his time perusing ancient texts and tomes, seeking new and fascinating magics. He is the twin of Rhiannon, though his sister feels more kinship with Blaiddyd than Idris, though that suits him fine, as Idris enjoys his solitude.

A tall and lean brunette, Idris is fascinated by magic, especially Death Sorceries, and retains a frustration at his mother for her refusal to allow him to study the Rune of Death to further his research in the field, though he secretly relishes the challenge of working without it.

While not much of a fighter, Idris uses his grandmother's Regal Scepter for his casting, and a Carian Crystal Dagger is her really must get dirty with it.

-

Mairwen (translated: Blessed Love)

Mairwen, named for the Kindling Maiden Melina who guided her father on his journey, Mairwen is not a Demigod.

She is an Empyrean. A candidate for Godhood. Her mother's heir.

Mairwen is an albino with white hair and eyes, and almost completely mute, save whispering to her parents and siblings when she feels she has something important to say. She's the youngest of the family, and yet perhaps the most powerful, as befitting a God in Bud. Her scarlet pure white eyes see to see everything and nothing at once.

Mairwen is a master of Faith and Intelligence, using sorcery and incantations in equal measure using Azur's Glintstone Staff and the Erdtree Seal, given to her by her father after a secret conversation. But should the occasion call for it, she unleashes the Sword of Night and Flame, and shows her foes true terror.

[jerseyartblog]

Keishin watched from the corner of his eye for a moment longer before he let out a sigh and rested his forearms on the edge of the table.  He lowered his gaze and began digging into his stew, finally tasting meat and potatoes like he’d wanted to all evening.

“Mm!”

Keishin glanced up to find Specs shoving another enthusiastic bite into his mouth.

“Mm! So good!”

“Er…” Keishin hesitated. “Yeah… I mean, they do all right, I guess…”

;) @flyingjemsaucer has updated Wild Whisper's Waning! We're tackling some pretty standard fantasy fare with you know--stew and meat and potatoes--but Specs REALLY seems to like it! (And of course, there's something more exciting lurking around the corner)

Read Wild Whisper's Waning on AO3

[charlythelee]

Slightly belated pinch hit for the HQ Fantasy BigBang — have some MatsuHana angst and please check out the fic, the AU and world building are lovely ☺️💕

⇢ Read "Bard Without a Song" on Ao3 by @savannahlovena (Beta by Alaina) ⇢ Akaashi Art

[evilhorse]

Men like this don’t work that way.

(X-O Manowar #18)

[famousnerdtragedy]

The Blade of Aeryn: Witch of Storm and Steel

In the land of Aeldoria, where dragons once ruled the skies and the seas whispered ancient secrets, there existed a realm torn between the forces of steel and magic. Kingdoms fell and rose under the weight of sorcery and the clash of swords, but none could foresee the rise of a warrior who embodied both.

Chapter 1: The Marked One

Aeryn stood at the edge of the cliffs of Valtoria, her eyes scanning the dark, storm-laden horizon. The sea roared beneath her, waves crashing against the rocks like an angry beast. She had always been drawn to the storm—its chaos mirrored something deep within her. A gust of wind swept through her wild raven-black hair, and she grasped the hilt of her sword, Stormcaller, which hummed faintly with an energy only she could command.

Aeryn was no ordinary warrior. Her lineage was steeped in magic, though she had sworn to master the blade before she ever embraced her sorcery. Her mother had been a renowned witch, wielding the elemental forces of nature, while her father was a general, known throughout Aeldoria for his unmatched swordsmanship. From them, she inherited both skill and power, but with it, a burden she never asked for.

Across her back ran a scar—a mark left by a creature not of this world, a shadow-beast that had descended upon her village years ago. She had survived, but the mark was more than just a wound. It bound her to ancient magic, to a prophecy whispered by witches and sages alike: "The Marked One will rise, where steel meets storm, and the world will bow to her power or burn in her wrath."

Aeryn never cared for prophecies.

The wind howled louder, and in the distance, she could see ships approaching—black sails. Pirates, raiders from the islands of Skorn, known for their cruelty and their insatiable hunger for plunder. Her village, perched upon the cliffs, was in danger.

"Let them come," she muttered, her eyes flashing with resolve.

With a flick of her wrist, the air around her stirred. The sky, already dark, grew darker still, as clouds thickened, responding to her command. Lightning crackled in the distance, and the sea began to churn more violently. Stormcaller pulsed in her hand, eager for battle.

Aeryn turned from the cliff and sprinted back toward her village. The time for peace had passed.

Chapter 2: The Siege of Valtoria

The village of Valtoria was small, a humble place where fishermen and traders lived in quiet. But tonight, it would be a battlefield.

As Aeryn arrived at the gates, she saw the villagers preparing for the attack. The village elder, a wiry man named Vorel, was barking orders, his face pale with fear. The wooden gates were being reinforced, but they would not hold for long.

"Aeryn!" Vorel called as she approached. "The Skorn have returned. They mean to raze the village this time."

"Not if I can help it," she said, her voice calm but laced with steel.

"Your magic—"

"I will use it when the time is right."

Vorel nodded, trusting her as he had always done. She had defended this village many times before, but never had the threat been this great. The Skorn were ruthless, and their numbers had grown.

The first of the enemy ships docked, and the pirates spilled out onto the shore like a dark tide. Their leader, a hulking brute named Kordak the Bloodhand, led them with a savage grin. His right hand was a mass of scars, stained with the blood of those he had slain. He wielded a massive battle-axe, its sharp edge glinting in the flickering torchlight.

"Bring me the Witch of Valtoria!" Kordak roared, his voice cutting through the wind. "I've heard of her power, and I intend to claim her head for my collection."

Aeryn stepped forward, her sword unsheathed. "You'll have to take it from my corpse," she said, her voice as cold as the storm brewing above.

Kordak laughed, a deep, guttural sound. "That can be arranged."

With a nod, his men surged forward, and the battle began.

Aeryn moved like a tempest, her sword flashing through the air as she cut down the first wave of pirates. Her training was impeccable, each strike precise and lethal. But as more enemies poured in, she knew steel alone would not win this fight.

She stepped back, raising her free hand. The air crackled with energy as she whispered an incantation under her breath. The clouds above twisted, and a bolt of lightning shot down, striking the earth before her, sending pirates flying. The power coursed through her veins, exhilarating and dangerous.

But magic came at a cost. Too much, and it would consume her.

She could feel it pulling at her, like a riptide beneath the surface of her mind. But she pushed it back, focusing on the fight. Aeryn danced between her enemies, calling down lightning and slashing with her sword, her movements a deadly combination of sorcery and skill.

Kordak watched from the rear, his grin fading as he saw his men fall. He raised his axe, roaring in fury, and charged at her, cleaving through his own men to reach her.

Aeryn turned just in time to meet his strike. The force of the blow sent a shockwave through the ground, but she stood firm, her sword locked against his axe.

"You think your magic makes you strong?" Kordak sneered, pressing his weight against her. "But I’ve killed witches before."

Aeryn’s eyes flashed with lightning. "Not like me."

With a sudden burst of energy, she pushed him back, raising her hand toward the sky. The storm answered her call. A massive bolt of lightning struck Kordak, enveloping him in searing light. He screamed, dropping to his knees as the energy coursed through him, his axe falling from his grasp.

But Aeryn wasn’t finished. She raised Stormcaller, and with a swift, final strike, severed Kordak’s head from his shoulders.

The pirates, seeing their leader fall, fled in terror, leaving the village of Valtoria behind.

Chapter 3: The Awakening

The battle was over, but Aeryn knew it was only the beginning. The mark on her back pulsed, reminding her of the power she had yet to fully understand—and the prophecy she could no longer ignore.

That night, as the village celebrated their victory, Aeryn stood alone by the cliffs, her eyes on the horizon. She had protected her home, but the storm within her was growing stronger. The magic she wielded was ancient, dangerous, and she feared what would happen if she lost control.

But destiny was not something she could outrun. The mark was a beacon, calling out to forces she could not yet comprehend. And somewhere, beyond the sea, something stirred in response.

The storm was far from over.

[wickedwizdom]

Hello there I’m not sure how active the Escaflowne fandom is on this site but I wanted to share this little passion project I’ve been working on. Basically it’s my take on the movie since after the watching the series, I was pretty disappointed with how the movie handled its story and characters. So I hope those who felt similarly or just want to take a look into my wacky mind on this self-indulgent idea of mine. I will update as consistently as possible but for now please be patient for updates. Apologies if some part are a little OOC but we ball!

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Van Fanel/Kanzaki Hitomi Characters: Kanzaki Hitomi, Van Fanel, Allen Schezar, Millerna Aston, Merle (Escaflowne), Abaharaki (Escaflowne), Folken Fanel, Dilandau Albatou, Sora (Escaflowne), Dryden Fassa Additional Tags: Escaflowne Movie, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, References to Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Adventure & Romance, Visions, Some Humor, Van does not know what feelings are, Hitomi is doing her best, Suicidal Thoughts, Soulmates, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Bond, War, Friendship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Not Beta Read Summary:

An alternate take on the Escaflowne movie.

18-year-old Hitomi Kanzaki is going to graduate soon but in reality she wants to disappear forever. Pulled into a strange world called Gaea by a mysterious man who claims her as the Wing Goddess, Hitomi goes on a turbulent adventure through a world locked in war and confronts her own war against loneliness.

18-year-old King Van is elated to finally claim his birth right: The legendary Dragon Armor, Escaflowne. That is until a girl in strange white clothes comes falling right out of it and on top of him. Upon her seemingly sealing Escaflowne away, Van rejects her existence as the prophesized Wing Goddess. Swearing himself only to the sword and revenge, he doesn't have the time to care about little else but the girl that he once doubted slowly changes all of that.

This is the story of two kindred spirits pulled together by the gravity of destiny and must overcome their shared loneliness and sadness to change their lives and their fate.

Rating is subject to change as chapters go on. For now just some swears here and there

[prokopetz]

On the one hand, it's true that the way Dungeons & Dragons defines terms like "sorcerer" and "warlock" and "wizard" is really only relevant to Dungeons & Dragons and its associated media – indeed, how these terms are used isn't even consistent between editions of D&D! – and trying to apply them in other contexts is rarely productive.

On the other hand, it's not true that these sorts of fine-grained taxonomies of types of magic are strictly a D&D-ism and never occur elsewhere. That folks make this argument is typically a symptom of being unfamiliar with Dungeons & Dragons' source material. D&D's main inspirations are American literary sword and sorcery fantasy spanning roughly the 1930s through the early 1980s, and fine-grained taxonomies of magic users absolutely do appear in these sources; they just aren't anything like as consistent as the folks who try to cram everything into the sorcerer/warlock/wizard model would prefer.

For example, in Lyndon Hardy's "Five Magics" series, the five types of magical practitioners are:

Alchemists: Drawing forth the hidden virtues of common materials to craft magic potions; limited by the fact that the outcomes of their formulas are partially random.

Magicians: Crafting enchanted items through complex manufacturing procedures; limited by the fact that each step in the procedure must be performed perfectly with no margin for error.

Sorcerers: Speaking verbal formulas to basically hack other people's minds, permitting illusion-craft and mind control; limited by the fact that the exercise of their art eventually kills them.

Thaumaturges: Shaping matter by manipulating miniature models; limited by the need to draw on outside sources like fires or flywheels to make up the resulting kinetic energy deficit.

Wizards: Summoning and binding demons from other dimensions; limited by the fact that the binding ritual exposes them to mental domination by the summoned demon if their will is weak.

"Warlock", meanwhile, isn't a type of practitioner, but does appear as pejorative term for a wizard who's lost a contest of wills with one of their own summoned demons.

Conversely, Lawrence Watt-Evans' "Legends of Ethshar" series includes such types of magic-users as:

Sorcerers: Channelling power through metal talismans to produce fixed effects; in the time of the novels, talisman-craft is largely a lost art, and most sorcerers use found or inherited talismans.

Theurges: Summoning gods; the setting's gods have no interest in human worship, but are bound not to interfere in the mortal world unless summoned, and are thus amenable to cutting deals.

Warlocks: Wielding X-Men style psychokinesis by virtue of their attunement to the telepathic whispers emanating from the wreckage of a crashed alien starship. (They're the edgy ones!)

Witches: Producing improvisational effects mostly related to healing, telepathy, precognition, and minor telekinesis by drawing on their own internal energy.

Wizards: Drawing down the infinite power of Chaos and shaping it with complex rituals. Basically D&D wizards, albeit with a much greater propensity for exploding.

You'll note that both taxonomies include something called a "sorcerer", something called a "warlock", and something called a "wizard", but what those terms mean in their respective contexts agrees neither with the Dungeons & Dragons definitions, nor with each other.

(Admittedly, these examples are from the 1980s, and are thus not free of D&D's influence; I picked them because they both happened to use all three of the terms in question in ways that are at odds with how D&D uses them. You can find similar taxonomies of magic use in earlier works, but I would have had to use many more examples to offer multiple competing definitions of each of "sorcerer", "warlock" and "wizard", and this post is already long enough!)

So basically what I'm saying is giving people a hard time about using these terms "wrong" – particularly if your objection is that they're not using them in a way that's congruent with however D&D's flavour of the week uses them – makes you a dick, but simply having this sort of taxonomy has a rich history within the genre. Wizard phylogeny is a time-honoured tradition!

[yanderenightmare]

FEM x M INSERT masterlist

Fem reader x male insert

Yandere and other Kidnapping Tales ~

Yandere kidnapper takes your virginty:

♡ VIRGINITY

Yandere captor has too much libido:

♡ REMINDER

Thirsty thoughts on big yanderes x tiny darlings:

♡ GENTLE GIANT

Yandere kidnapper softly nonconning darling:

♡ soft noncon

Yanderes who keep you high as a kite:

♡ HIGH AS A KITE

Yandere captor using you as his pretty rope-bunny:

♡ ROPE-BUNNY

Yanderes who's obsessed with breeding:

♡ FORCED BREEDING

Spending Valentine's Day with your incel kidnapper:

♡ HAPPY VALENTINES

Yandere kidnapper is a sexual sadist:

♡ RIBBED CONDOMS

Yandere captor staking claim to all your holes:

♡ STUFFED

Misogynist boyfriend keeps you captive:

♡ A SHITTY MOVIE

Strange Yandere keeps you locked inside his playroom:

♡ THE PLAYROOM

Your sweet boyfriend shows his true colors:

♡ TRUE COLORS

Your rich boyfriend buys you everything:

♡ PROPERTY

Poly yanderes with captive reader in apocolypse au:

♡ THE BUNKER

Witnessing your own mental state descend into Stockholm Syndrome:

♡ GONE MAD

Your trip-sitter isn't as trustworthy as you think:

♡ TRIP-SITTER

Awful nasty incel:

♡ drabble

Boyfriends and Husbands~

Simpy boyfriend is unabashedly obsessed with your ass:

♡ ASS

Boyfriend is embarrassed:

♡ POST NUT CLARITY

Sweet boyfriend won't stop talking about anal:

♡ SECOND VIRGINITY

Snugglebug boyfriends who're just so clingy and hopeless:

♡ VIRGINAL

Your toxic boyfriend is a little old-fashioned-minded:

♡ BENEVOLENT SEXIST

Breaking up with you bad boyfriend:

♡ BAD BREAKUP

Condescending boyfriend:

♡ HOPELESS

Businessman x trophy wife:

♡ TASTE OF MONEY

Reformed bully boyfriend wants to roleplay the past:

♡ REFRAMING TRAUMA

You break up with your sorry-ass gamer boyfriend. He does not take it well:

♡ GAMER-RAGE

Rich husband owns everything you have:

♡ BARBIE

Incest and Pesudo-incest ~

Step-bro creeps on you:

♡ CREEP STEP-BRO

Step-daddy puts you in your place:

♡ TRAINING

Omegaverse and other Hybrid Tales ~

Pet collector buys bunny reader:

♡ BOUGHT & SOLD ♡ THE OTHER PETS

Beast boyfriend x human reader:

♡ INSTINCTS

Poly wolfboys x bunny reader:

♡ BUNNYHOLES ♡ GROOMING

You were certain you were an Alpha, but as it turns out...

♡ TWIST OF FATE

Hybrid bear yandere takes bunny darling captive:

♡ BUNNIES MAKE THE BEST SLUTS

You're sent to an omega institution for behavioral correcting:

♡ THE OMEGA INSTITUTION

Patronizing soft dom Alpha:

♡ OVERWHELMED

Behemoth dominant Omega x tiny Alpha reader:

♡ UNNATURAL ♡ part two

Alpha is dogshit at courting Omega reader:

♡ SWEATER WEATHER

Sword and Sorcery ~

Massive warrior claims you as his war prize:

♡ WAR PRIZE

Orc master loves making a cum-slut out of his pretty elf slave:

♡ ORC x ELF ♡ ORC x ELF

You become the spoiled prince's personal maid:

♡ FARM ANIMAL

Elf reader captured and gangbanged by orcs:

♡ THE PILLORY ♡ PART TWO

Cruel Emperor makes a harem out of all his bastard sons and daughters:

♡ HALFBLOODS

Set in medieval times, you get punished by the parish priest for gossiping:

♡ BRANK'S BRIDLE

Bullies and other College Tales ~

You let your bully fuck you in exchange for him leaving you alone:

♡ WORSE OFF

Your childhood bully tracks you down:

♡ APOLOGETIC BULLY only avaliable on AO3 ♡ PART TWO

When the playboy finally falls in love:

♡ PLAYBOY

Your strict teacher fucks your throat raw in detention:

♡ DETENTION

You're a popular airhead, and he's your loser tutor:

♡ BLIND TRUST

Teacher teaches you a hard lesson:

♡ HARD LESSON

Pretty reader x virgin loser boy:

♡ VIRGIN BOY

Boss-man and other Office Tales ~

Boss uses his assistant whenever he wants and however he wants:

♡ BOSS

The old-fashioned boss with intern reader:

♡ NEW INTERN

Colleague crushing on reader in office au:

♡ CUT TO THE CHASE

Loser colleague crushes on mean girl reader:

♡ ERRAND BOY

Miscellaneous ~

Reader owes the mob:

♡ PROPERTY

You're not cheap, but you're worth it:

♡ FAVORITE WHORE

You're not really a model, but the brash photographer doesn't care:

♡ PHOTOGRAPHER ♡ PART TWO

♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[risuola]

ENTRY #1 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I lay my dreams upon your feet, please be careful taking your steps.

contents: arranged marriage!au, angst-ish, slight age gap (reader's around 22, Satoru is 28), loveless marriage, brief mentions of blood and toxicity — wc. 1975

a/n: starting a new series while two other are hanging in the air and hundreds of wips are waiting for being written? yeah, that's me, but hey, I needed to start something new to get my creative juices flowin'. this one's gonna be a series of entries, a diary if you will.

series masterlist

When you were younger, a girl innocent and little, blissfully unaware of the world around you, you wished to marry a prince. Influenced by tales told by your mother and tv shows you watched with big and curious eyes, you had a vision of the ceremony straight out of a dream. A magical display of love and the path of rose petals and feathers through which you were meant to stride in a dress made of satin and lace – white and elegant. You also saw him, the man that your heart would choose and desire. A prince handsome and kind, who would love and protect you even if by doing so, his life would be on the line. You were too little to be aware of the naivety of the dreamy pictures in your head.

Sometimes you wished to turn back time and once again step into the shoes of the innocent you who never got to know sadness and fear. Sometimes you think of it with a bittersweet smile, reminiscing the way you used to go about your days without care about the world around. With mild regret you reminiscence the moment you learned that everything around you was–

“I’m talking to you. God damn it, are you deaf?”

“I heard you.”

–a lie.

You were a late bloomer but besides the judgmental looks you were receiving left and right from the elders of your clan, you also owe it the beauty of your prolonged childhood. Few years of freedom that you lost the memory of how it tasted and yet, you like to go back to it and drown in the pictures it left in your mind. Whilst all of your siblings were training and learning, fighting and risking their lives against the cursed spirits, you brought shame to your family. There was no place for someone without a cursed technique in a world of sorcery and you were made painfully aware of it at the day of your tenth birthday. That was also the end of your childhood and the day you wish to forget. You remember how the smiles of your parents turned into frowns and the soft, melodic tone of your mother became harsh and never got back to how it used to be. The tales and cookies vanished and what was left was nothing but suffering and degradation.

“Oh, did you?”

It took you six years of training to awaken the technique that later on was called the most powerful in the history of your clan. Six years of days and nights filled with sweat and tears, six years of bloody knuckles and bruises but also, it took six years of your determination to prove all of them wrong. Despite being the youngest of four siblings, you were able to stand against the worst of curses with nothing but a sword and raw power when everyone else relied heavily on the cursed techniques. You were strong and skilled, you were trained and fearless but still, you were looked down. A shame. To your family you were nothing but a shame.

And then, suddenly, you became a pride. You were on everyone’s mouths; you were talked about as if you were the most expensive and rare diamond. Years of harsh treatment you received suddenly became forgotten because once your technique awakened, you became the strongest in your clan, surpassing your siblings, your parents and everyone else who bore the same name as you. Suddenly other clans were talking about you too, with curiosity and fear. Suddenly, you became someone. But somehow, it didn’t make you happy. Once you realized that the world you were born into wasn’t a tale you always thought it is, you lost the ability to enjoy it. Maybe the pain of what you had given to become a true sorcerer rendered you unable to fully appreciate the adulthood, but you found it hard to see the light, when the darkness seemed to embed itself into your soul.

“You know what? Fuck that. I’m leaving.”

Ah yes, the marriage. With years that had passed since you were young and naïve, you stripped yourself of the dreams of sharing a life with a prince, but a part of you still hoped for love and calm. A part of your heart wished to settle with someone you’ll trust and care for. Someone who will ground you in the world of constant danger and for years you thought that you will find a man with whom the stressful life of sorcery will be a little kinder, a little less scary, a little more bearable. It was a child in you, a faint spark of juvenile carelessness that never died down, even in the darkest of days you endured.

You let out a deep sigh and allowed your lids to close. Your head leaned forward, forehead restless against the cold doors of the kitchen cabinet. The loud thud of doors snapping shut echoed in your ears for few moments and then it became silent. An earie cacophony of nothing but your own breath and soft ticking of the clock on the wall next to you. For a moment you thought about how many times you relived this very same situation already. The cold detachment, harsh exchange of words and then he’s gone. A salve of ruthless stabs that never seem to hurt less and the sound of your own voice forming sentences you wouldn’t think of if the circumstances were different.

First time you saw Satoru Gojo was many years before you truly knew who he is. It was a picture that you noticed by accident, somewhere in the papers your parents had spread out on the coffee table. He was a young boy back then. You remember the impression he made on you. He looked cold, intimidating, unapproachable. He looked like someone you’d never think of becoming friends with. You were young, just barely nine years old and he was already fifteen. He was already the strongest and even though you weren’t actively involved in the world of sorcery, you knew his name.

And then, many years later you sat in front of him. While the elders of your clans discussed the importance of the arrangement that was planned within the sorcerer’s society, Satoru was resting on a couch unamused, with his legs crossed and eyes covered by a layer of white bandages. You watched him, analyzed his lack of interest and the veil of cold arrogance with realization that everything you wished for was never on the table for you. During the two long hours of conversations that were about you and yet no one asked for your opinion, you and Satoru didn’t exchange one word.

You heard his voice actively directed at you for the first time during the wedding ceremony. It was small, very private and filled with people that you mostly didn’t know. It was far from perfect, though pretty in a way. Under the cautious watch of the most important figures of sorcery, you said the vows that made you feel nothing and yet meant so much. The words of promise, that for anyone else meant love and safe future, to you meant status and the name. You became Gojo. You became a wife to the strongest man in the world.

Now it’s seven months after the wedding and the day you and him moved together. The apartment you shared was filled with both yours and his belongings and yet it didn’t feel like home. It lacked the atmosphere of love and understanding and on days like this, you were losing hope it will ever feel different than miserable.

That day was nothing out of ordinary when it came to your marriage. Yet another fight, yet another beeline he made to leave you alone in the empty house. You always argue. There was no warmth between the walls of the apartment, there was no care and respect. Instead, there were snaps and insults, there was silence and avoidance. The large bed in what was meant to be a shared bedroom was occupied only by you, while Satoru preferred to sleep on a couch even though his tall frame was way too big for it. Besides one very brief and formal kiss you shared during the wedding day, you never kissed again. There was no holding hands, no incidental touches, no nothing that would convey any sort of feeling and only times your bodies made contact was when he grabbed your wrists in anger or when your shoulder hit his arm while you were passing by.

Truth is, you had no idea what Satoru was talking about that morning before he left. You were lost in thoughts, but you could only imagine he was mentioning the meeting he needed to attempt in the evening. He probably won’t be home until late and once he’ll come back, he’ll be annoyed by elders and for that, you couldn’t blame him. Whenever you face the elders of jujutsu community, your blood pressure raises as well and you’re quite calm by nature. That being said, if unlucky, you’ll be the one to take the hit of his anger.

Your fingers run across the golden band that adorned your finger. It was an absentminded motion that became a habit of sorts, helping you gather the thoughts, calming your mind. The cold feel of metal allowed you to let go of the stress and forced you to suck it up yet again.

Two hours after the morning fight, you found yourself surrounded by the familiar buildings in the Jujutsu tech area, watching your husband from afar. Satoru was in the middle of teaching students, if whatever the hell he was doing could be called teaching. Megumi was resting next to him as some other kids were fighting on the training field. The sound of wooden swords colliding echoed between the woods that surrounded the expanse of the school zones. Gojo was looking as careless as ever, calm and smiling – a sight that you almost never see unless he’s facing someone else. He was chatting with his almost-son, shouting some advice to the sparing students and going about his day as he usually does, but one thing was different.

 “Satoru,” you called his name as you went down the stairs to reach the spot where he was standing. He noticed you, you knew that. He most likely knew about your appearance way before you even got to see him, but now he chose to actively ignore your presence as his light blue eyes stayed focused on the field instead of landing on you.

“What brings you here?” He asked and you could tell how the tone of his voice changed from the friendly sensei to your husband’s rough approach. He wasn’t happy with your visit; you weren’t welcome near him and everyone knew that. The fact of your marriage being arranged wasn’t a secret and it also wasn’t a secret that it was Gojo’s clan decision, not his own. Satoru felt some sort of humiliation that despite him being the strongest, he was stripped of a choice who to spend his life with and you, as his wife, were paying for his resentment.

“I brought you this,” you replied, reaching your hand towards him. His eyes landed on your palm and you noticed a ghost of relief that washed over his features when he took the band of black fabric from your hold. His blindfold, that you realized was ripped – he left at home in the morning. That was most likely what he was talking to you about because once you cleaned up after the breakfast, you noticed the band and his broken glasses left on the coffee table.

“So you were listening,” Satoru said quietly and securely covered his eyes.

“I wasn’t.”

[eternal-evergreens]

Can you please do a yandere sukuna x fem reader

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧ "Iron Forged In Blood" ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Post format: drabble

Pairing: Yandere! Sukuna x Fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: abusive household, period-typical misogyny (not from Sukuna), violence, light gore, theft

"Please spare my son!" Your mother cried, a protective hold on your younger brother. "If no one else, please spare his life!" Your father nods ardently, encasing your mother and brother in an embrace.

What a touching sight---for a family of three. Ryomen Sukuna, the monster who pillaged your town, looks down at your family with disdain.

"You beg for your son, but not for your daughter?" He asks. "How pathetic."

Your mother stiffens, a look of horror etched upon her face. Your father's expression morphs into anger.

"Our son is the pride of our family! He's the one who will succeed my craft!" He yells. "My daughter, in comparison, is just a useless girl."

That's not true, you think to yourself. Your brother shows absolutely zero talent for blacksmithing, despite being personally taught by your father. You had to teach the craft to yourself, in a futile attempt to win his favor.

"You're an embarrassment," your father said, throwing your first sword to the ground with a clang.

"We feed you, clothe you, and yet all you do is throw yourself into useless things! Don't you know a woman's only purpose is to marry into a good family?"

"Ungrateful wench! Are you trying to show up your brother?"

Your father's lips curl up into a wicked smile. "But since your lordship has shown such concern over her," he says slowly, as if testing the waters. "Perhaps she can be of some use to our family after all."

Ryomen Sukuna raises an eyebrow.

"Please spare our family," your father says. "In return, please take our daughter, and do with her what you will." Your jaw drops. You aren't sure what you're feeling right now. Shock? Disbelief? Fear? Anger?

Perhaps you are feeling all four.

"I've listened to your useless ramblings long enough." In a flash, your father's head is separated from his body. Your mother screams, and your brother begins to wail. Blood splashes to your face, but you don't react. The world is spinning, the cries of your family are ringing in your ears, but all you can focus on is one thing.

"In return, please take our daughter, and do with her what you will."

The screams of your mother are cut abruptly short. Next is your brother. Only you remain.

Should you beg for your life? What would be the point? You'll never be a blacksmith, anyways. You'll never earn the recognition of your peers. Not as a woman, anyways.

"You," he says, commanding. You look up numbly. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't kill you alongside your kin." You blink, looking down at your lap.

"I'm afraid there is none, my lord," you say to him, voice and face devoid of any emotion. "Like my father said, I am just a useless girl."

"Oh?" The monster sounds amused. "Your arms are quite muscular," he says. "Are you a blacksmith?"

"I'm not very good," you say.

"Uraume," he calls.

"Yes, master." A white haired person steps forth from the shadows, head bowed.

"Bring me the sword."

"Yes, master." Just as quickly as they appeared, the servant vanishes, returning with a sword black as obsidian. Your sword. Your magnum opus. "Here it is," they say, presenting it to Sukuna.

"Did you make this?" You nod. You don't know how he got his hands on it, but that's definitely your sword. The same sword your father confiscated and threw away, stating you'd be lucky if those calloused hands would ever house a ring.

"You aren't aware of it, but you possess potent cursed energy, it's been etched onto this sword. Meanwhile, that 'father' of yours had no talent for sorcery at all." You don't follow, but knowing it would be unwise to question him, you keep your head bowed. "Listen up," he says, voice commanding authority. "You have a talent. Continue to make swords for me, and your life will be spared. Refuse and you will perish alongside these worthless rats you call your family."

You...have a talent? That can't be right. No, rather, it wouldn't matter even if it was. Because you're a...

"But I'm a-" Sukuna scoffs.

"I've fought countless sorcerers in my life," he says. "Both men and women. Most are equally untalented, but there are some that have been strong."

"Raise your head," he commands. Your eyes meet his. There's an expression in them you can't quite make out. "Strength does not have a gender. Nor does talent. Follow me and you will not be looked down upon again."

This man...he believes in you. He sees your worth.

"If I follow you, will I be a blacksmith?" You ask tentatively.

"What an idiotic question," he says. "You already are."

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

After working under Sukuna for some time, you've come to realise some things about him. Namely, that he does not pillage for no reason. There's always a motive, an underlying goal to achieve.

"My lord," you say, having just finished polishing a new spear. Sukuna is watching you from the edge of your workshop. He has a habit of coming to you whenever he gets bored. Though you don't make very good company when you're working, he doesn't seem to mind. "May I ask you a question?"

"Hmph. Ask."

"Why...did you choose my village?"

"Do I need a reason?" His tone is challenging, imposing. He speaks as though you need to watch your words, lest he cut out your tongue for impudence. You know him better than that, though. It's not a threat. Not if it's you. You look at him expectantly and he scoffs. "That sword..."

"Hm?"

"When Uraume presented it to me, I thought finding the craftsman behind its creation and forcing them to work for me would be an amusing way to pass the time. But the man who claimed to have made it didn't possess even a lick of cursed energy."

"There was a group of bandits that picked a fight with Uraume. They lacked talent, but one of them was wielding a sword that almost made up for it."

"Was that...?" Sukuna nods.

So your father had stolen your work to pass off as his own. If you had found this out even just a few weeks ago, you would have been devastated. Now, you feel nothing.

"I thought you'd be more upset," he says, eyeing you. You shrug.

"It's in the past. My father has already paid for his crimes in death. There's no need to let it bother me anymore," you say, face blank. The expression you're wearing is eerily similar to the one you wore that day. Sukuna shifts uncomfortably.

"Perhaps he did not suffer enough." Sukuna smiles. "If it would please you, I could have him ripped from his grave and brought back to the world of the living so that you may do away with him yourself."

"Like you'd go through all that effort just for someone like me," you say, a hint of teasing in your voice. You think you hear Sukuna say something else, but his voice is so low you can't make it out.

"There's little I wouldn't be willing to do, not if it's for you."

[starfall-dream]

Yandere Baldur's Gate x Isekai Reader Concept

I wanted to expand on my concept in hopes that people would be more interested in it. This won't get into every single character I want to write for, in fact this will pretty broad, so please feel free to ask me to expand on any ideas I didn't get into concept.

Also, for this concept, I'm including default (whitedragon, storm Sorcery) Durge, who is the Tav in my concept. I'll be using they/them pronouns for them and reader.

This mainly goes over act one, and if people are interested, I'll explore more of act 2 and 3, so please tell me what you think.

Again please send in any ideas or things you want me to expand on.

---

You didn't remember how you arrived here, nor do you know how the tadpole entered your head, but there was no use lamenting your situation now. All you did remember was going to sleep one night, your head banging in your head, but that wasn't unusual. When you awoke, you weren't on your bed, but instead on a beach, sand covering your body. 

It was lonely, being in this strange new world. From the moment you woke up on that beach, you knew you didn't belong, and you could feel every essence of your being rejecting the notion that you should be here. But despite that, you remained, mountains of responsibility placed upon you from the moment you realized where you were. Your companions, if you could even call them that, were cordial at best. You could tell that most of them didn't believe your story, thought you were crazy, spouting nonsense of other worlds. Some were nice, namely the wizard Gale and the more welcoming and kind Wyll, though you knew that their kindness was due to need rather than genuine feelings. 

The others were distrustful of you, but as their companion they had no other choice but to follow you. Astarion was the worst, at best his words were just petty teasing, while at worst he made you feel useless. You knew nothing, had very little survival skills, couldn't find your way around any weapons, in his words "hopeless." You tried your best to get along with him and your other companions, but it was often for not. 

The only companion you really found yourself close to was Tav, the more leader-like of the group. The best way to describe them is spacey, staring off into the world, often alone with their thoughts. It was difficult getting used to them at first, you've never seen someone like them before, but they were the only ones to accept you in the beginning. They taught you how to survive in this world, helping alongside Wyll in teaching you how to fight, at least with a sword. It made you feel at least a bit more prepared for your journey ahead, and you didn't have to listen to Astarion's judgmental words any more. 

While Tav was more of the leader, you were always more inclined to help people. You liked the Tieflings, especially the curious children, so it didn't take much to convince you into helping them. It felt...nice, having people's hope, helping people, though you didn't truly know what it entailed. Having to protect your companions, keep them away from the danger that seemed oh so attracted to them, it was a lot of work. Part of you wondered if helping the grove, saving these people, if it would prove your worth to your companions, and for some, it did. Shadowheart was appreciative of the work you put in, though she seemed unable to express it. 

In fact, you felt as though you were growing closer to your companions, at least partially. Gale would show off his magic, he loved it. After finding Karlach and learning more about Wyll, he seemed very obsessed with making sure you knew how to protect yourself. It was easy to befriend Halsin, he was so nice and understanding, as well as understanding as he could be. You even started to help the other companions with their personal issues as their trust in you started to get better. You caught Astarion mending some of your clothes one night, you think Lae'zel complimented you fighting style once, but you really couldn't tell, and Karlach was always encouraging. It felt nice, even if it was all very small acts of kindness. 

Though, throughout your journey, you found yourself worried over Tav. They were always more inclined towards violence, they were intimidating, quiet, but they were a friend to you, and so when they confided in you about their violent urges, something they strived to overcome, you vowed to help them. You could tell your words meant a lot to them, and as they promised to protect you on your journey, despite what path they take, the choice of words slightly worries you, but you trust them, and you were happy to have a friend. 

Meeting Halsin was a breath of fresh air, he seemed to genuinely notice the work you were putting in, offering to help you with your tadpole problem and travel with you on your journey. Your companions seemed to like the fact that a confident healer was finally amongst the party, and for once, after saving the grove and helping the Tieflings, you felt at peace. During their celebratory party, you spend most of your time alone, occasionally being checked up on by the animal companions you've found along the way. Zevlor offered you a drink, and in a tipsy daze, you confided in him about your worries and fears, you talked for hours and it was nice and Zevlor seems sympathetic, even claiming to miss you while they were traveling, and made you promise to find him in Baldur's Gate. 

You promised him, and as the Tieflings left, you found a small amount of dread sinking in. Your companions were still wary of you, and now you were traveling into a more dangerous land. You wondered if it would always be this way, but you knew you would have to keep brave, even if you knew you would never belong despite all your efforts. All you could hope for was hope for change, and keep a strong facade for your companions and yourself.

---

A/n: Again, I wasn't able to go into characters like Zevlor or Raphael as much as I wanted to, so please feel free to send in any ideas or headcanons you have about them or any other characters, I'd love to here them :)

[jerseyartblog]

Hinata is born without magic - but that's nothing a deal with the devil can't fix.

:) I was fortunate enough to be paired with Wolvie for the Swords and Sorcery Big Bang! For AtsuHina fans with a LOT of demons and epic fight scenes and an on-going mystery~

Read The Eye of A Needle on AO3

[godhandler]

[ #2, Lord!Sukuna x knight!reader, heian-era trueform Sukuna, d/s relationship, graphic descriptions of torture and violence as a metaphor for love, misogyny, yandere!reader, jealousy, gnc reader, 800+ words ]

pt.1 (feast)

No one wants to bring the news to you: Sukuna has taken another knight. 

One he found mid-battle, similar to you. Young Gojo-kun, a sprightly boy only a few years younger than you, possesses the Six Eyes and Limitless cursed technique. One who apparently professed his loyalty to Sukuna in exchange for training. One who sits pampered in his tent across the post-war encampment. 

That you raged back into your tent, fell down weeping, bashed your things at the walls, ripped your hair and tore your robes off screaming in anger… it was all heard by the worried guards posted in front of your chambers. Never had they seen their noble knight with veins of cold steel so. It did not calm them down when you emerged from your doors, kimono falling off your shoulders, eyes puffy red, hair dishevelled, and your hand grasped, with foreboding surety, around your sword. 

The All-Seeing Gojo-kun titters at your state. His tent is among the largest, his throng of admirers sitting around like so. His feet are slung over a makeshift throne, about 20 paces from your determined steps.

“What an honour! The Butcher, in flesh!” He mocks. “Make space, Benkei, find a seat for the mistress-in-chief’s royal ass!” He takes no notice of the audience gasping, the inconceivable disrespect for someone like you. 

10 paces. “Won’t you please us with a dance, dog? Like you do for your master? A little tail-wagging?” Gojo-kun has nothing to worry about. Not only is he blessed with God-like sorcery and the heirdom of the Gojo Clan, he has the protection of Sukuna himself. Nothing can wee old you do to him.  

5 paces. “Please, I only tease you as a friend, haha! Will you go tattle to Sukuna now?”

3 paces. “But he won’t care, will he? Not when he’s bored with his old toy. One with no cursed technique.”

2 paces. “Not when he has me, the pinnacle of jujutsu sorcery.”

1 pace. You plant your footing in front of the smug Gojo-kun– “Keep crying for him like a virgin bride, you know that he’ll never return your pathe– ” and you cut his head off in one clean flash of your blade. 

Screams, a rushing crowd, weeping maidens, enraged men. Damn, you muse. That brat must’ve really gotten to me. My hand shook so much. Because why else would a few untorn threads of muscle still dare to patch his idiotic head onto his neck? The boy is still breathing. Good.  

You drag Gojo-kun’s body, his ornate robes collecting grass-dirt, by the hair. People stand by terrified lest they catch your eye. In his last moments, you correct his previous statement: you do have a cursed technique. Pain like rats are clawing through their chest, pain like they are being skinned and broiled alive, pain like their eyes, tongues, fingers and genitalia are being torn off…You can give one such pain at the time of their death. And the way his dead eyes are crying, you know that he’s penitent. 

His body flops to the ground as his neck-muscles finally snap apart. Tsk. Now you have to carry the head in one hand and rest in another. All the way up to the master tent, where Lord Sukuna must be holding court. 

No guard dares stop you. The courtiers part in haste. Sukuna himself sits up, eyes wide in shock. Like a wolfdog bringing a dead sparrow to present to its master, both parts of the corpse are dropped, as are your knees, to the ground at your Lord’s feet. 

“I caught this rat stealing from your granary, Sukuna-sama.” What a bold-faced lie, but which fool would correct you? “I protected you.” 

Sukuna knew that you were tamed in the sense that you did your best to be tame for him. He did anticipate some ill-feelings from you when he brought the boy along, not blunt murder. Should he punish you? You certainly deserved to be disciplined; he had grand plans for the Six-Eyes. But to look into the insanity carved in your stony eyes as you pointedly refuse to call him ‘my Lord’... No, I understand now. 

This was your way of saying, if the brat deserved to survive, he would have. Your cruel mouth says he wasn’t worthy of you. Your jealous heart says I am all that you require, my Lord. 

You dragged his corpse all the way here not to profess guilt but for something completely different: you want praise. Sukuna has never denied you anything. 

“Well done, knight.” Your Lord’s voice rumbles like rocks through the silence. “We are all grateful for your service.”

You offer him a deep prostration before you excuse yourself. The next time Sukuna spots you is at the dinner banquet, merry-making and loud-laughing with your comrades, sake and deer-meat aplenty, your knight uniform shining, long hair tied neat, sword pristine as a white lily. 

masterlist

a/n: Set in the Heian era (794-1185 AD), this Gojo isn't our Satoru Gojo, to clarify that. He also never got the chance to activate his Infinity before getting his head lopped off, poor guy ig.

knight!reader primarily fights with conventional weaponry, infuses cursed energy and uses New Shadow style techniques (which they discovered and founded), cuz their CT is pretty useless in actual battle. Most people, like Gojo-kun here, think that they don't have one. they're a horrifically savage fighter, tearing enemies into chunks, hence is also called 'The Butcher'.

While the biological sex of the knight is whatever the reader wants it to be, socially they play a male role. they dress in male military uniform, fight alongside men, were given a man's education, and get duties and respect that a man of that time would get. realistically, a woman would never get the high ranking of a knight.

knight!reader is not Sukuna's mistress or anything like that. it's just mean-spirited gossip. their relations are intensely close and kinda fucked up tho :)