#this was mainly just lighting practise

[redvexillum]

Wait a min- *squints eyes* I remember you @nyx91 didn't you JUST ask for a threes♡me? Now you want to add another c♡ck into the mix? Oh my Lord. This is completely self-indulgent and I legit shut my brain off of everything I know of Hazbin Hotel in order to be able to write this, I have you know. Also, I didn't plan on writing the threes♡me and fours♡me request for kinktober, but these things happen (it's not because i saw the number four on today's date).

TAGS/WARNINGS: afab!reader, polyamory!reader, double penetrati♡n, p in v, anal s♡x, ♡ral s♡x, multiple ♡rgasm, d♡m/sub undertone, ♡verstimulation, sq♡irting, hand j♡b, jealousy, possessive, sub!reader, reader being an excessive people pleaser, reader becomes c♡ck drunk, electr♡stimulation, incredibly self indulgent, p♡rn without plot, pure p♡rn

The ballroom echoed with music as laughter bubbled between you and Alastor, your fingers entwined perfectly with his. His grin, usually sharp and full of mischief, softened as he dipped you low. The world spun around you, but all you could feel was his touch – his fingers gliding against yours, the electric connection that made your heart race. His movements were smooth, guiding you effortlessly as you twirled in his grasp, your body following the rhythm of the music.  

But as you let go to spin away, the air shifted, your body suddenly colliding with a solid, firm chest. Your breath caught, and as you looked up, Lucifer’s bright, pearly smile greeted you. His eyes, warm and playful, locked with yours, and his hand instinctively found the small of your back, pulling you closer. His other hand slid into yours with practised ease, guiding you into a waltz. The heat of his body was intoxicating, and his smooth voice, laced with amusement, made you smile.  

“Hello, fancy seeing you here,” you teased, your voice light with laughter.  

Lucifer’s brows waggled as he pulled you closer, the warmth of his body seeping through your clothes. “I couldn’t resist when I saw the opportunity to whisk you away,” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to your ear. His hand pressed you even tighter against him, your bodies moving as one to the music. His smile was gentle, but there was something more in the way he looked at you – something that made your pulse quicken.  

From the corner of your eye, you caught a flicker of movement. Alastor stood nearby, his grin faltering, and – was it a trick of a light? - his ears seemed to flatten against his head. His eyes, usually full of amusement, glared at Lucifer, jealousy burning in their depths.  

Before you could react, a familiar darkness slithered beneath your feet. Shadow tentacles erupted from the floor, wrapping around you and Lucifer, yanking you apart with startling force. You gasped, stumbling backward until you collided with another body – this one tall, broad, and radiating warmth.  

“Look who’s in my arms now,” a low, sultry voice purred in your ear. Strong arms coiled around your waist, pulling you against the unmistakable form of Vox. His hips pressed into the curve of your back as he swayed with you, his movements slow and deliberate, matching the distant hum of the music. The surrounding air crackled with tension.  

You craned your neck, catching a glimpse of his sharp, TV-shaped head. “Vox?” you whispered, confusion lacing your tone. It was rare to see all three of them together – these men who could barely stand the sight of one another – especially Alastor and Vox...and well, Alastor and Lucifer. 

Now that you thought about it, it was mainly Alastor who could barely stand the sight of Vox and Lucifer.  

Vox’s claws lightly traced your jawline, sending shivers down your spine, until they rested beneath your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. His dark smirk deepened as his eyes gleamed with mischief. “There’s something important I wanted to tell you,” he said, his voice dripping with desire. He glanced up, his smirk growing even darker, before returning his full attention to you. “First.” 

Your mind raced, struggling to keep up with the sudden shift in atmosphere. This was meant to be simple – you were merely their escort, a companion to these powerful men. Perhaps, even alover, if the moment called for it.  

Vox had been the quickest to take you to bed, his hunger for you insatiable.  

Lucifer had taken more time, slowly warming up to you until he, too, sought you out in the dead of night.  

Alastor, however, preferred your company in quieter moments – cuddled together after his radio broadcasts, your presence a balm to his otherwise chaotic existence.  

But now, everything felt charged, as if the air between the three men crackled with something more.  

“Oh, no,” Lucifer’s voice boomed, dragging your attention back to him. His wings unfurled in a flourish of crimson feathers, his eyes glowing a fierce red. He stalked toward you, determination written on his face. “I - well, sweetie, I wanted to ask if you could – mmph!” 

A shadowy tendril whipped up from the floor, covering Lucifer’s mouth before he could finish, and with a crackle of static, Alastor materialized beside you, his smile back in full force. His red eyes gleamed, locking onto yours as he stepped closer, his presence dominating the surrounding space.  

“Careful, darling,” Alastor whispered, his voice low and dangerous, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.  He pulled back, his eyes flicked up above you, glaring at Vox. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to steal the spotlight.” 

Alastor’s voice was a low, velvet command. “Be mine.” his hand, cool and possessive, rested against your neck, fingers brushing over your pulse as he felt the frantic rhythm of your heartbeat beneath his touch. 

His eyes gleamed with something darker, something undeniable, as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver through your spine, your entire body teetering on the edge of surrender. 

“Ma chere,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, full of promises. His lips dipped lower, so close to you that you could feel the tension ready to snap between you both. But just before he could capture your lips with his own, you felt a sudden, sharp tug – a force pulling you backward.  

Vox spun you effortlessly to face him, his grin wide and filled with mischief. Before you could react, his lips were on yours, insistent and demanding. His tongue darted forward, coaxing yours to open, searching for that familiar, intimate connection.  

The kiss was deep, fiery, and his electric touch sent shivers racing down your spine as little shocks pulsed through your nerves. You moaned into the kiss, your body yielding to him, instinctively parting your lips to let him in. The sensation of his tongue against yours was intoxicating, making your head swim with heady desire.  

When he finally pulled back, his eyes sparkled with satisfaction as he looked over at the other two men. “Well, it’s clear who’s the favourite here,” Vox purred, his voice dripping with confidence as his hand trailed down your spine. His fingers slipped beneath your dress, skimming over the sensitive skin of your thigh, sending another thrill through your body. He leaned in, his lips hot against your ear as he whispered, “Right, doll?” 

His grin widened as he watched your reaction, his touch igniting a fire beneath your skin. His eyes sparkled with genuine affection, even amidst the possessiveness. You couldn’t deny the allure of Vox, the way his presence consumed you, made your heart race with excitement and pure, unadulterated desire.  

But before you could respond, Lucifer’s smooth voice cut through the tension. “Please,” he drawled, stepping forward with that signature regal grace. “My sweetie would obviously choose me.” His arms extended, a silent invitation for the embrace he always sought after a particularly hard day. His soft, gentle smile tugged at your heartstrings – there was something so comforting in the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.  

Yet before you could decide, darkness engulfed you, your vision swallowed by shadows. When you blinked, you found yourself wrapped tightly in Alastor’s arms, his chest pressed firmly against your back. His grip on your waist was possessive, almost desperate, as if he feared letting go. “Why don’t we let those two pathetic men bicker,” he whispered, his voice a dark tantalizing promise, “while we slip away to my room, darling?”  

His lips brushed against your forehead, the gesture both tender and possessive. You felt his body press even tighter against yours, as if he was trying to meld himself to you, his sigh warm against your skin. You tried to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling around you, your voice muffled against his chest. “Wh-what’s going on?” 

Before you could even process it, a sudden jolt hit Alastor, and he released you. You barely had a second to catch your breath before the familiar pull of black cords wrapped around your wrists, dragging you back to Vox. His dark eyes glittered with intensity as he caught you, pulling you flush against him. One of your legs lifted instinctively as he pressed the front of his hip firmly against your core, grinding slowly, sending a heated pulse through you.  

“My baby doll will always choose me,” Vox declared, his voice low and dangerous. His lips hovered just above yours, his breath hot against your skin. “Right, doll?” His face was so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, his eyes boring into yours. “I’ll make you the happiest gal in all of Hell.” 

Your cheeks burned as his hips pressed harder against you, his growing arousal evident through his pants. You couldn’t help the flush that crept up your neck, biting your lips as your mind raced. “Right here, Vox?” you talked quietly, your voice shaking with a mix of embarrassment and desire. “We...you had me this morning...” 

Lucifer, who had been watching with wide eyes, let out a scandalized wheeze. “This morning?!” His face twisted in disbelief before he strode toward you, his hand gentle as it rested on your arm. His expression softened, and that familiar warmth returned to his smile. “Sweetie,” he said softly, “you clearly need to be with me.” His voice dropped to a tender whisper. “I’ll be gentle with you...or rough, however way you like it.” 

You felt your heart stutter at the sincerity of his words, the promise of care in every syllable. 

Then, from behind you, Alastor chimed in, his voice as smooth as ever. “It’s obvious what needs to happen here.” 

“Agreed,” Vox cut in unexpectedly, making both Lucifer and Alastor raise a brow in shock. Vox never agreed with Alastor on anything.  

Vox’s lips curled into a wicked grin. “Whoever gives her the best...dick will have her. Forever.” 

Heat flooded your face, your mind struggling to catch up with the sudden declaration. “What?” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart raced as you tried to process everything, the weight of their gazes pressing on you from all sides. Each of the men offered something different – a thrill, a comfort, a wild tenderness.  

You couldn’t deny the way Vox’s daring passion stirred your blood, the way Lucifer’s gentle touch filled you with warmth, or the intoxicating allure of Alastor’s possessive desire. But now, it seemed, the choice wasn’t yours to make...or was it? 

Alastor’s scoff cut through the air, his ears flattening in irritation as he threw an incredulous look at Vox. “Eugh, must you always bring your coc-”  

“That’s a great idea!” Lucifer interjected, his voice smooth and commanding, cutting off Alastor’s complaint. With a snap of his fingers, a luxurious bed materialized in the middle of the room, its satin sheets shimmering under the low light. Without hesitation, he took your hand, his touch warm and inviting as he gently led you to the bed. You barely had a moment to process before he ushered you to sit, a devilish smile playing on his lips.  

“Ahem,” Lucifer straightened, brushing off his coat with an air of grandeur before climbing onto the bed, his movements deliberate, as though savouring the moment. He knelt beside you, his forehead pressing gently against yours. His closeness, the weight of his gaze, warmed your soul.  

“I’m not sure if this would be a good-” you began, but Lucifer hushed you with a soft, chaste kiss. His lips were warm and inviting, and for a moment, the world around you faded with nothingness.  

“Sweetie, you’re thinking too hard,” he whispered, his voice like silk against your skin, his forked tongue slipping out to tease your bottom lip as he grinned. “Let me make you feel good.” His words sent a shiver of delight through you, and as he eased you back onto the bed, your body melted beneath his. His hands were gentle, gliding along the curve of your body, his touch like a whisper on your skin.  

His fingers brushed along the outer edge of your thigh, sending sparks of anticipation through you before he hooked his fingers into your panties, slowly dragging them down with deliberate precision. The cool air met your heated skin, and your breath hitched as you realized the intensity of the moment.  

Your mind spun – thoughts about what this meant, about whether loving all three of them made you fickle or loose – but as Lucifer’s lips captured yours again, those thoughts dissolved, leaving only the warmth of his body against yours and the way his touch set you ablaze. His kiss deepened, his tongue sliding sensually against yours, and you surrendered to the moment. You were his focus, his pleasure becoming your own.  

His fingers teased at your entrances, grazing your slick folds in a way that made your breath hitch and your body tremble. The heat between you two intensified, your heart racing as he dipped just the tip of his finger inside, teasing you with a promise of more.  

“Luci,” you gasped, grinding against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction.  

A sudden dip in the bed beside you made you glance over, and your breath caught in your throat. Vox sat next to you, his cock already in hand, stroking himself lazily as he watched you with a grin. His eyes flickered between you and Lucifer, amusement dancing in his gaze. “What?” Vox purred, his tone light but filled with hunger. “I’m not interrupting, I’m just enjoying the show.” 

Lucifer’s brow furrowed; his annoyance clear as he glared at Vox. With a snap of his fingers, your clothes vanished instantly, along with his. The sudden sensation of his bare skin against yours made your pulse quicken, the heat of his body pressing into you. His cock, hard and insistent, slid against your folds, teasing you, the head brushing against your most sensitive spot.  

For a moment, Lucifer’s irritation with Vox faded, his attention solely on you. His smile softened, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek with a tenderness that your heart skip a beat. “I love you, my sweetest sugar,” he whispered, his voice drenched with affection as he positioned himself between your legs, the head of his cock pressing at your entrance.  

You gasped as he began to push inside, his thick length stretching you inch by inch. The slow, purposeful way he entered you sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your muscles quivering as he filled you completely. His eyes remained locked on yours, his pale face flushing with the heat of the moment as he began to roll his hips, thrusting into your wet, eager hole.  

Each movement was slow, savouring the feel of your wrapped tightly around him, the way your body responded to his. The pleasure built with every thrust, your back arching beneath him as he whispered your name like a reverent prayer. His lips pressed against your neck, his breath hot and ragged as he continued his steady, maddening pace. His hips perfectly grinded deeper with every tantalizing roll. 

“You’re perfect,” he breathed, his voice strained as his desire for you became more overwhelming, his thrusts growing more intense, driving you higher and higher.  

Just as you were lost in the rhythm of his body moving against yours, you felt a familiar presence at your side. Vox leaned in, his hand sliding possessively down your neck, his cock still hard and aching as he watched the way you reacted to Lucifer. “Don’t forget about me, doll,” Vox murmured, his voice low and teasing as his fingers pressed against your cheeks to turn your face towards him.  

Lucifer growled, but his pace never faltered. You were caught between them – between the softness of Lucifer’s touch and the raw, unapologetic desire in Vox’s eyes – each man determined to claim you in his own way.  

Vox’s sharp claws gripped your chin, and before you could register the moment, the familiar blue tip of his cock pressed against your lips. “Come on, doll,” he murmured, his voice dripping with desire, “show me how much you love me.” Slowly, he pushed the hot, throbbing head of his cock between your parted lips, filling your mouth inch by inch until you had fully accommodated him.  

A soft hum of satisfaction rumbled from him as the musky, salty taste filled your senses, your lips sealed tightly around his girth. The wet slurping sounds of you sucking him mingled with the low moans escaping your throat, the vibrating making Vox grunt in approval.  

Meanwhile, Lucifer continued thrusting into your drenched pussy, his cock gliding effortlessly through your slick folds, driving deeper with every roll of his hips.  

“A-are you serious?” Lucifer moaned, his voice strained with pleasure as your walls fluttered around him, tightening and gripping his cock like a vice. “Ugh, I said – hah –” he struggled to speak, his rhythm faltering as you clenched him tightly once more. “It was my turn first,” he groaned, clearly losing the battle for control over his own arousal.  

“Your highness,” Vox taunted, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he addressed Lucifer, “we’ve done this before, and we both know you enjoy it every time.” His grin widened, predatory and teasing, as he pressed his balls to your face, forcing you to take him deeper. His cock throbbed against your tongue, and the heady sensation of him filling your mouth, paired with Lucifer’s relentless thrusts, sent your mind spiralling into a haze of pleasure.  

Despite his grumbling, you could sense Lucifer was getting even more excited from the sight of you with Vox’s cock between your lips. His thrusts became more erratic, his hips losing their usual smooth rhythm as he fixated on your stretched lips, the way they worked over Vox’s length, slick with saliva. The wet, obscene sounds of your mouth sucking and slurping on Vox echoed through the room, blending with the slap of skin as Lucifer pounded your pussy.  

“Oh, fuck,” Lucifer whispered under his breath, his hips snapping forward with increasing intensity, the wet sound of skin on skin growing louder, more frantic.  

As if in sync, Vox began to increase his pace, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth with brutal force, the lewd gagging sounds and the smothering wetness of your saliva coating him only driving him on. Your throat strained to accommodate him as you desperately tried to keep up with both men, your body trembling with overstimulation.  

And then, a hand wrapped around your wrist, guiding it to another heat. Alastor. You felt the molten hardness of his cock as he pressed it into your palm, hot and throbbing beneath your fingers.  

“Oh, come on,” Lucifer panted, his breath ragged as he continued to fuck you mercilessly, his voice laced with amusement and desire. Your moans of pleasure, muffled by Vox’s cock filling your mouth, spilled out in whimpers.  

“Al, you’re joining too?” Vox’s voice held a teasing edge, but you could feel his cock growing harder, pulsing against your tongue as if responding to the competition. His tip discharged tiny currents of electricity, sending tingles of pleasure running down your spine, crackling through your body and sizzling deep in your core.  

Alastor’s warm hand guided yours, curling your fingers around his cock, encouraging you to stroke him. You felt the soft slide of his foreskin moving beneath your touch, slick with pre-cum. “Shut up,” Alastor moaned softly, his voice breaking with need as he rocked his hips in time with the motion of your hand. “Hah, darling,” he breathed, his tone soft but filled with hunger.  

It was too much – too overwhelming. Lucifer’s cock pushed relentlessly against your cervix with every powerful thrust, the intensity of his movements making your body quake. Vox showed no mercy, his cock taking up every inch of your mouth, the sensation of his thick, electric heat leaving you breathless. And now Alastor, his silken shaft throbbing in your grip, the slick feel of him adding another layer of intoxicating pleasure.  

The room filled with the sound of your shared ecstasy, the wet slap of skin against skin mingling with your muffled whimpers and the slick, messy sounds of Vox’s cock thrusting into your mouth. When Lucifer canted his hips just right, hitting the sweet, spongy spot deep within you, your back arched, and your body convulsed with pleasure. You screamed in pleasure, the sound garbled around Vox’s cock as it rubbed against your tongue, filling your throat with every thrust.  

“Oh, doll,” Vox groaned, his voice a low rumbling purr. I love the way you scream.” His words sent a shiver of pleasure through you, and you knew you were completely at their mercy.  

Lucifer moaned, his hips grinding rhythmically as his pubic bone rubbed against your swollen clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your trembling body. “Oh, sweetie, you’re close, aren’t you?” His voice was husky, strained, as he continued to pound into you, the wet sounds of his thrusts echoing with each deep stroke. You were so close, the mounting pressure inside building to a fever pitch, every nerve alights as his words seemed to pulse through you.  

Your fingers instinctively squeezed around Alastor’s hardened cock, feeling the thick, pulsing heat in your palm. He let out a sharp, appreciative hiss, his eyes narrowing in lust as you stroked him, the veins along his shaft pulsing with your touch.  

Lucifer quickened his pace, his breath ragged as his cock pistoned into you. One, two, three more strokes, and your body jolted, a wave of white-hot pleasure crashing over you. Your legs fell apart wider, trembling as they struggled to accommodate Lucifer’s deep, powerful thrusts. The orgasm ripped through you, and you cried out, your walls fluttering and clenching around him, pulling him in deeper as if trying to milk every last ounce of pleasure from him.  

Your cries were all it took. Lucifer groaned deeply, the sound guttural and primal as he bucked against you, his cock throbbing violently before he spilled his seed inside you. You could feel the hot rush of it, coating your walls as he gave one final, shaky thrust, his body trembling with the aftershocks. Slowly, he began to soften inside you, his pace slowing to a languid rhythm as you both came down from the high.  

But there was no rest, no reprieve. While Lucifer sagged against you, huffing with satisfaction, Vox and Alastor were far from finished. They hadn’t let up, still chasing the peak of their own desire. As Lucifer pulled away, a rush of his seed spilled out of you, dripping hot and slick down your folds. You shuddered at the sensation, but your mind was already consumed by the aching need of the two still-hard cocks that hovered, waiting for your attention.  

Before you could fully catch your breath, strong arms lifted you. In a dizzying moment, your body was repositioned, straddling Vox’s lap, your sweat-drenched back pressing flush against his solid chest. The heat from his body radiated into yours, mingling with the sticky sheen of exertion that clung to your skin. His cock, still slick with your saliva, nudged against your ass, sending a pulse of arousal shooting through your nerves.  

“I don’t mind sharing for the second round,” Vox purred. His lips brushing the shell of your ear. His voice was dark and teasing, dripping with lust. “And I don’t think my doll minds either.” He groaned as he pressed forward, his cock sliding smoothly into your ass, inch by inch, stretching you open.  

You gasped, your body trembling as he filled you. “Ah!” The cry escaped your lips as his thick length pushed deeper, nudging against the oversensitive walls of your body. Each slow thrust sent Lucifer’s seed spilling from your cunt, dripping down in messy, slick rivulets. Your breath came in ragged pants as Vox continued to sink into you, his cock stretching you inch by agonizing inch until he was seated fully inside you, his hips flush against yours.  

“That’s right, doll. Show them how well you take me,” Vox murmured in your ear, his voice rough with desire. His hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he spread you wider, your dripping cunt on full display for the others. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as the overwhelming fullness sent shudders through your body, but it was the pleasure that clouded your mind, the pleasure that made your head spin. 

“Tell them,” Vox growled, his lips brushing against your ear, “beg them for their cock. Be my good little doll.” His hips thrust upward sharply, driving himself even deeper, and you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you.  

Your eyes bleary with tears, your mind a haze of raw need and pleasure as you looked at Lucifer, who was already starting to harden again, and Alastor, whose cock bobbed eagerly, the tip angry and flushed with desire. “P-please,” you whimpered, your voice shaky, “f-fill me up.” 

Vox’s grin widened behind you, the words he’d taught you slipping so easily from your lips now, shameless and dripping with lust. All thoughts of modesty had long since melted away, replaced by the overwhelming need to be filled, to be used.  

Lucifer made a move toward you, but Alastor was faster, stepping forward with a growl. “You already had your turn with her,” Alastor snapped, his hands trembling as his eyes fixed on your wet, open cunt before meeting yours. His gaze burned into you, hungry and possessive. “Say that you want me,” Alastor demanded, his cock nudging insistently against your soaked entrance. “Say it,” he growled, teasing you with just the fat, bulbous tip.  

Mewling, you felt your ass clench around Vox’s cock as your cunt fluttered, the slick, sticky remnants of Lucifer’s cum dripping out more. “I want you,” you whimpered, voice breathless with need. “Please.” 

The moment the words left your lips, Alastor surged forward, plunging into you with a single, powerful stroke. The lubrication from Lucifer’s seed made it effortless, his cock gliding inside until he was buried to the hilt, stretching you impossibly full.  

“AHHHHH!” you cried out, the sensation of two cocks filing you sending a jolt of ecstasy through your body. Both men throbbed inside you, pulsing with need as your body struggled to accommodate the overwhelming fullness.  

“Ah, fuck, Al, you’re pushing me out,” Vox grunted, his voice tight as he slammed his cock deep inside your ass, struggling to keep his place inside you.  

Alastor’s grin only tightened, his eyes dark and lustful as his breath quickened. His cock throbbed inside you, your body squeezing him just as tightly. But Alastor growled low in his throat, pulling his hips back before slamming forward again, the force of it knocking the breath from your lungs as pleasure overwhelmed you, drowning out everything else.  

You felt Vox’s claws dig into your soft thighs, the sharp sting of them only heightening the dizzying pleasure coursing through you. It was as if they had started competing, pushing each other to go harder, faster, their thrusts becoming relentless. The pace quickened, their cocks driving into you with desperate intensity, each seeking to outdo the other. Your voice came out in short, breathless gasps, your body trembling as your fingers dug into Alastor’s shoulders, clinging to him as pleasure tore through you in waves.  

Behind Alastor, your hazy vision locked onto Lucifer, his hand wrapped tightly around his cock as he stroked himself with maddening speed. Clear pre-cum leaked from his tip, dripping onto the floor as he moaned, his gaze fixed on the sinful scene unfolding before him. The sight of him, so desperate, only fuelled the fire burning inside you, pushing you closer to the edge.  

Words failed you, thoughts vanished, and all that remained was the mind-shattering pleasure that continued to build and build. Every nerve in your body was on fire, the coil in your core tightening once more, ready to snap again even though you thought you already spent it. But then, a sharp electric shock buzzed through your ass, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. You cried out, your head falling back as both you and Alastor moaned in unison, his cock still plunging into you mercilessly, even as his head tilted back in bliss.  

“You like that?” Vox huffed behind you, his voice strained with effort as he sent another shock through you, this time arcing into Alastor as well. The jolt made your muscles clench involuntarily around them both. Alastor’s eyes flickered from black slits to radio dials as he glared at Vox, his expression a mix of anger and lust. You could tell there was more history between them than they were letting on.  

“Fuck, are you gonna come for me again?” Vox growled, his voice vibrating against your back.  

“Sweetie,” Lucifer whimpered, his voice trembling as he stood beside you. His cock was fully hard again, untouched, pulsing in the air as he stared down at you, desperation etched into every line of his face. “Please,” he moaned, his voice hoarse with need. He gripped his cock, pumping himself faster, his tip dripping with arousal, barely grazing your lips as he thrust his hips forward. “I need to feel you.” 

But before you could even open your mouth, Alastor’s hips ground against your sensitive clit, his cock hitting deep inside you, while the relentless shocks from Vox pulsed through your core.  

It was too much. The pleasure was unbearable, snapping your fragile control. The orgasm that tore through you was unlike anything you had ever felt – sharp, electrifying, and unstoppable.  

Your body shook, muscles clenching and spasming as Vox kept thrusting, sending even more waves of electric stimulation through your nerves. It was like a persistent assault, the sharp tingling vibration zeroing in on your clit, making you cry out uncontrollably.  

Your head fell back, mouth open wide as you screamed, the sound hoarse and raw as Alastor’s cock pushed hard against your sweet spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Unexpectedly, your release came in a shameful, uncontrollable gush, spraying out of you, drenching Alastor’s chest and thighs in a hot, wet flood.  

“Oh, fuck,” Vox and Lucifer moaned simultaneously, their voice thick with lust, but it was Alastor whose breath hitched, his body going still for a moment before he picked up his pace again, the slick sounds of his cock driving into your soaked folds echoing in the room. 

He didn’t even give you time to come down from your high, his pace ruthless as he continued pounding into you, sending your body into overdrive.  

Without warning, Lucifer’s hands grabbed your head, forcing your mouth open as he shoved his thick cock past your lips. His head fell back, a deep growl escaping him as you tasted the remnants of his earlier release, mixed with your own fluids. The only sounds you could make were the desperate, whimpering noises of a woman broken by pleasure, no coherent thoughts left as your body was taken over and over again, each wave of sensation crashing into the next.  

Alastor’s head bowed, his breath coming in quick, ragged gasps as you felt his cock twitching inside you, the telltale sign that he was close. Vox’s hips stuttered behind you, his thrusts faltering as his own climax loomed closer. Your body was slick with sweat and cum, drenched in the aftermath of your own release, as Lucifer frantically thrust into your mouth, his cock pulsing as he chased his own pleasure.  

“One more, Al,” Vox grunted, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, a massive wave of electric current surged through you, every nerve in your body lighting up like fire. The shock coursed through Alastor too, making his mouth fall open, stitches stretching as his eyes flashed to radio dials then back to his black pupils dilating in a mix of agony and ecstasy.  

Lucifer’s body jerked, his hips bucking wildly as the shock ran down his cock, his growl turning into a desperate, feral cry. “Fuck!” he yelped, his head falling back as he gave into the overwhelming pleasure that rippled through all three of you, the room filled with the sounds of frenzied moans and pounding hearts.  

Alastor’s deep moan reverberated through the room as your body convulsed with another powerful orgasm. Your clit throbbing between waves of pleasure that were almost too much to bear. The sensitivity made it feel like your nerve endings were on fire, teetering between pain and numbness, yet you craved more. The hot gush of Alastor’s release filled you, his cock twitching as his pumped deep into you, while Vox’s own load followed.  

The sensation of both of them emptying inside you made you feel full all at once. You could feel the hot liquid pooling within, their cocks pulsing in sync with your fluttering walls, your body still desperate, still greedy for every last drop they could give.  

Your own arousal, slick and plentiful, mixed with their seed, spilling from your overworked pussy. Each clench of your muscles sent a fresh wave of their cum sliding out, the heat of it a constant reminder of how thoroughly they had claimed you.  

Lucifer wasn’t far behind, his gruff moan signalling his climax as his bitter, salty release flooded your mouth. You struggled to swallow it all, the thick liquid coating your throat, some slipping past your lips to dribble down your chin and neck, mingling with your sweat and saliva. His hand gripped the back of your head, pulling you closer as he sought to empty himself fully, the taste lingering long after he withdrew.  

As the three men pulled away from you, their weight lifting, you were left trembling on your side, your body a ruin of pleasure and exhaustion. Every hole felt full, their hot cum slowly trickling out of you, a reminder of how thoroughly you had been taken. Your legs were heavy, your mind fogged with lust, yet despite it all, you could feel the stirrings of another ache, another need building deep inside you.  

Vox, ever insatiable, was the first to move again. His large hands easily scooped you up, handling your limp form like a rag doll, his breath hot against your sweat-slicked skin as he murmured, “Come on, doll. Show me my favourite pose.” His voice was thick with desire, but there was a possessiveness in his tone that made your heart race.  

You glanced at the men, each of them watching you with their glowing red eyes, their expressions feral, animalistic, and ready to devour you all over again. Their cocks were still slick with semen, yet they stood at attention, already hard and dripping, hungry for more. Whatever argument had existed between them before was long forgotten, replaced with a singular focus – to ravish you until there was nothing left but the trembling mess of your body beneath them.  

The pose Vox requested was humiliating, but he loved it. He always did. Despite having shared you with Lucifer and Alastor, Vox revelled in seeing you utterly exposed, your body open and ready for whatever came next.  

Swallowing your embarrassment, you slowly shifted onto your back, your legs lifting into the air, spreading wide as you obeyed his unspoken command. Your fingers found your slick entrance, and with a breathy moan, you stretched yourself open, displaying yours throbbing, pulsing core for them.  

You could feel the warm, sticky mess of their cum inside you, the mingling of all the releases threatening to spill out with every twitch of your muscles. Your cunt and asshole, sore and overstimulated, were nothing but a sticky, white-coated mess, glistening in the dim light.  

“Please...” your voice cracked, desperate and needy. “Please, give me more.” 

The words tumbled from your lips, your face flushed with the heat of arousal, tears streaking down your cheeks, your body trembling under the weight of their gaze. Cum dripped from your mouth and chin, your voice thick with lust as you stretched your cunt wider, begging for them to fill you again. Your mind swirled with the knowledge that tonight would not be the last time you would have to entertain all of them at once.  

Now that they had tasted you, they would want more – and you knew you would give it to them.  

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[taki-yaki]

Batstarion A!Astarion + S!Astarion Headcanons

Pairing: A!Astarion/S!Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav/Durge

This one took a while to write up, but I did learn some interesting facts about vampire bats and tried to apply them here.

**Spawn Astarion**

After the defeat of Cazador, Astarion soon discovered a book within the palace, which contained the skills of vampire spawns that his master never wanted him to know about.

One of these skills was to turn into a creature of the night, this quickly intrigued Astarion, causing him to try and master the spell. He even tries practising wild shape methods taught to him by Halsin.

This takes a while for him to master, night after night spent trying to improve his skills with no transformation in sight. One night, nearly at his wits end with trying to master it, you speak,

“Maybe it’s a phrase you have to shout, try yelling bat, maybe that would work?”

“Darling, I don’t think it’s going to be as simple as saying the word bat-”.

Suddenly,  who was once standing in place of Astarion, now lay a small white ball of fluff with wings.

You are greeted by happy chirps and squeaks, quickly turning into a chorus of angry squeaks. One drink of speak to animals potion unravels what he is saying.

“I can’t turn back, darling do something, I don’t want to be stuck looking like a rat!” he huffed.

“Try and relax, it might wear off?”

“How can I relax like this, I don’t even have arms!”

Softly touching the white curly on his head, with the lightest tip of your finger, the pale bat relaxes instantly within the palm of your hand, almost purring at your touch.

Suddenly, the weight shifted from your hands, causing you to drop the bat onto the ground, only for Astarion to shift back into his humanoid form.

Checking to see if he’s fine, you are greeted by light snoring coming from him, seemingly collapsed from exhaustion, the transformation takes on him. Over time, he learns how to master turning into a bat with ease, allowing him to require shorter rests after turning back.

Of course, with him being at such a small size, it makes travelling together simple from keeping him under a robe to shade him from the sun and his light weight. When shopping at local markets, he’ll take advantage of merchants fawning over how cute he is, giving you discounts on your produce, without being aware that he’s a blood-sucking vampire spawn under that white fluff.

“I do wish they gave us something more savoury and juicy for free” grumbling to himself.

“And miss out on all the other goods we get?”

“Hmmm…fair enough, but don’t be surprised if ask for extra tonight” responding with a smirk.

He would adore all the attention you give him in this form, from soft pets on his head to just relaxing with you at such a small size. At Wither’s reunion party, he would show it off to others about it any chance he gets, as his special party trick, beaming the whole way through. Although he would have to deal with the hangover afterwards from shifting constantly the next morning.

Additionally, if you can fly, whether that is by being a druid who can wild shape, to a draconic sorcerer who has gained their wings, you both have fun flying around together at night.

**Ascended Astarion**

For A!Astarion, transforming into a bat is as easy as a wizard casting a cantrip, simple and quick with no downsides.

A!Astarion wouldn’t be one to showcase his ability to shift into a bat at his grand masquerade parties, mainly for fear of being seen as a weak simple creature. Although he would use it to stealthily eves drop on others from the cover of the shadows.

After he’s fed you enough of his blood, if you are his spawn, he’ll teach you how to turn into a bat. In your bat form, he’ll fuss over you more, being more protective of you in this form, as if your body is a prized porcelain vase. Some of the servants just presume you're another bat he’s caring for out of the thousands in the palace.

Carrying you around in his shirt pocket to always gaze at you, whether he’s signing contracts to talking with nobles from other cities, he would be their watching over you, closer to his undead heart than ever before.

Eventually, after a while, he would teach you how to fully fly and would only allow you to fly out at night, only if he was there to keep watch over you. Whilst transformed into your bat forms, he would develop the habits of bats from trying to constantly groom your coat, by cleaning each other’s fur, despite your protests at times and sharing food with you by regurgitating blood as a gift to you.

Compared to the rare moments he is the one in bat form, he would only allow you to pet him, usually in private away from prying eyes, insisting that he has a reputation to uphold.

“Pet, I am all for you adoring me, but we mustn't tell others of this, I have an image to uphold after all”.

He would also experiment with applying some elements of his bat form to his humanoid form, such as shifting his arms to be bat wings, usually as an intimidation tactic, or to show off during his extravagant ball dance parties with you, by lifting you into the air with him.

When you carry him around in his bat form, he would try to nip you more often, unprompted over any small inconvenience. 

Not paying full attention to him? Bite,

Talking to someone other than him? Bite,

Just bored with nothing else to do? Bite.

But if you attempt the same thing to him when you're in bat form? He would laugh, calling you a “Cheeky little pup”.

However, if you keep trying to nip him, he will eventually gently order you to stop and ensure he’ll get his payback later in the day, still being petty about it.

[baby-iloveyou]

goodnight, you're so tight sleep tight

pairing: kang taehyun from txt x afab!reader (no gender specified) genre: smut (mdni) warnings: sub!taehyun, somewhat dom!reader, reader wears somewhat short shorts to bed, cockwarming, usage of petnames (mainly for taehyun: baby, tyun), light swearing, slightly perv? taehyun, teasing, dirty talk, unprotected sex (practise safe sex everyone), cumming in/on clothing, i got carried away with this eheh summary: after a long day, all you just wanted was to snuggle up with your boyfriend in bed and drift to sleep. he wanted something else. word count: 1.7k writer notes: like i said, i got carried away with this heheh. i originally was just gonna make this a short but sweet little smut drabble of idk 500 words? but then the ideas started flowing and taehyun made me horny inspired to write so. hope you enjoy this filth <3

taehyun was normally pretty cool. he was able to resist any temptations or lust that would overflood anyone else. but seeing you in the small shorts you slept in was always a weak point of his. 

you were heading off to bed, since you had had a long day and needed some well-deserved rest. taehyun also wanted to give you a well-deserved treat (and definitely not because he was incredibly hard), but you had already told him you were too tired to move even in the slightest.

which gave taehyun a brilliant idea.

“what if we do cockwarming?”

his big eyes stared at you, waiting for some sound to be uttered. a small grin also visible on his face, still waiting for your response. you smiled back, licked your lips and softly nodded, shortly closing your eyes. 

as you lay down on your right side, head almost melting into the pillow, you could hear the sound of blankets being lifted and moved, and some shimmying behind you. a warm figure appearing behind you, shoving one of his arms underneath your body, while throwing the other arm over it, his fingers interlocking with yours on your stomach. 

you stayed there for a few minutes, just spooning with each other, feeling so utterly in love with taehyun. that’s when you made the mistake of slowly drifting asleep, and being woken up violently with taehyun trying to rid you of your cute little shorts to replace it with his dick.

“a-ah, taehyun… was falling asleep…” you whined softly. the man who interrupted your sleep time softly kissed you on the crown of your head, and nuzzled his head into your neck. “sorry about that, just needed to get into you.” 

you were like that for yet another few minutes, until taehyun couldn’t sit still anymore. maybe it was the thought of you teasing him with the shorts, maybe it was the way you had been clenching around his cock multiple times since he was positioned inside of you, maybe it was something else. but he needed to move.

he started thrusting slowly, in and out of you. it caused you to hum softly, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling. taehyun let out some huffs close to your ear, making you clench around him in response. “what happened to cockwarming baby?” you barely managed to get out in a soft whisper. taehyun let out another grunt. “you keep teasing me tonight darling, i can’t help it. you feel too good.” 

“teasing you? i’ve come home, got changed into my pajamas and told you we could do cockwarming because i’m tired. how is that teasing, tyun?”

he was still fucking into you, and you were now slowly starting to move against him as well, trying to get even closer to his body. taehyun was slowly fucking the tiredness out of you, and you felt like having your fun with him.

“those stupid little shorts of yours… that’s how you were teasing me… you could’ve - mmh - worn anything else but you - shit - chose to wear those to bed.” by how he was talking and how he was starting to shove his cock harder into you, you could tell he was getting closer and closer to being undone. 

“god, you’re such a pervert, aren’t you, tyunnie? i’m just wearing some random shorts to bed, and you’re instantly thinking of all the ways you can rip them off my body, huh? want to do so many dirty things with me and with those shorts, huh?”

if the shorts were already teasing him, this dirty talk was really messing him up. because every word you uttered was true. and he knew that you knew it was the truth. 

“mmph!” he grunted, as he continued penetrating you. he unlinked one of his hands from yours to move to your nipples, and played with one of them. he held it in between his thumb and index finger, making sure to toy with it and twist it slightly. 

“oh fuck, do that again.” you moaned, not expecting the action at your chest, and moved your head back slightly, exposing your neck to taehyun. he noticed and latched onto it, sucking the supple skin right underneath your jawline.

you were starting to enjoy the moment just a bit too much, but still aware of how close taehyun was to cumming. and because you were teasing him already, you could continue teasing him just a bit more. because isn’t that much more fun than just letting him finish?

you pulled your head away from his lips, detaching them from your neck. you let loose of his hands, which were still resting on your stomach. you separated yourself from his entire body, regretting it slightly because of the sudden emptiness at your lower area, but thinking to yourself that it would be worth it.

you could hear a small whine coming from behind you, which was rare - normally taehyun was the one in control, the one who would make you a whining mess. but tonight he was so desperate, so needy to cum, that he was whining at the loss of warmth around his dick. 

as you flipped over to face him, you cooed at him. “how cute, do you need my little cunt to cum? need to be inside of me, and plunge into the dripping mess that i am?” his mouth was agape, tongue hanging out slightly, and you could feel his dick pressing against your stomach, his hips softly thrusting into the nothingness underneath your blankets.

“i’m sorry for being needy tonight, please just let me cum!” you bit your lip, suppressing a laugh. he was so cute like this, all worked up simply because you wanted to be comfy. you could get used to this state of taehyun.

you removed the blankets, letting the cold air of the room hit both of your bodies. “fuck, it’s cold”, you exclaimed, “but i know how to get both of us warm again.” 

you sat upright, pulling off the shorts that were still resting at your ankles that taehyun had pulled down when he entered your private parts. taehyun’s big eyes - which were filled with desperation - followed your every move, the way your hands delicately picked up the shorts, and how they gripped around the fabric. the way you moved your hands, including the shorts, closer to his cock. 

“so this is what was teasing you all night huh? this pathetic bunch of fabric?” taehyun slowly nodded, slightly embarrassed because of his confession. his dick was still twitching because of you, because of your words. 

“cum in them then. make them all dirty for me, baby.”

his big eyes widened even more, first staring at you, then focusing on the shorts. he raised his arm, reaching for them, looking into your eyes to make sure this was fine. he licked his lips, the thought of you still wearing them after he had cummed on them turning him on an awful lot.

once he grabbed them, he was about to lay his dick on the fabric, when you stopped him. 

“put them on.”

the command made him bite the inside of his lips, tongue prodding the side of his cheek. he fully took off his boxers, and slipped on the small shorts. his thick thighs were on full display, and not only could you see his bulge, but also his tip which was sticking out at the bottom of the shorts. 

if an image was attached to the word ‘horny’ in the dictionary, this would be it. the way his cheeks coloured red, the way his precum was already making the shorts dirty, the way you were staring him down. 

his hand reached down to his hard-on, only to be swatted away by your hand. he looked up at you, confused as to what you were planning, only to gasp as you started palming his shaft. his hips automatically responded, humping into your hand, as you stroked his penis with slow yet controlled movements.

“mmfuck, am gonna… gonna do it…” he managed to yelp. he also sat upright, to then grab your shoulders with both hands, and lean against your frame as you were caressing him. 

“gonna do what tyun? normally you’re so well-spoken, what happened to that, hm?” your hand moved into the shorts, now holding his hard-on directly and stroking it roughly. “use your words, baby. all those years of education are gone to waste otherwise. we don’t want that, do we?”

taehyun felt unable to talk back, to respond to your filthy words. he was too close to spurting all of his white strings into your shorts, too close to seeing you put these on again after he came into them, too close to get distracted and lose the opportunity to cum. 

he moaned once more, before shooting his semen into the shorts. you pushed the fabric against his head and slit, resulting in the white fluid erupting through the shorts, and dripping down them. you resisted the temptation of scooping up the cum with your finger and making him taste himself, despite it being so hard.

taehyun collapsed, and fell back down on the bed on his back. a big sigh left his body, as he came down from his intense orgasm. you crawled on top of him, hovering over his body, making sure to kiss his lips before removing the shorts off his body. 

“baby, is this what you were thinking of?” you breathed, making sure taehyun was watching your every move. you slowly shimmied yourself into the shorts again, feeling the warm cum touch your skin. you spread the cum over the fabric, and licked the residue left on your fingertips. 

taehyun licked his lips, before uttering “jesus christ, you’re so hot.” and yanking your arm to get your body on top of him again. “thank you for tonight, y/n”, he said, as he lay his head back on the bed, and softly closed his eyes. 

“if you still want, we can still do cockwarming and fall asleep like this?” he prompted, and grinned. you reciprocated his smile, took off the now completely ruined shorts one last time, and sunk onto his girth with a soft grunt. 

“goodnight, you’re still so tight- i mean, sleep tight”, he said with a wink, before drifting to sleep.

[immortalmsmoon]

BSD General Headcanons

ADA VERSION

I've been really into BSD as of late cus i had to rewatch it with my friend :3 GUYS I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER TO COME OUT

all requests are welcome!!! please read my rules first though, they were recently updated!

wordcount: 1198

Atsushi

Always tired, and it's pretty damn obvious. Has prominent eye bags, and he’s always huffing and sighing. 

Has a nice singing voice. It's really clear and soft, and is nice to sleep to. 

Hates reading, and isn’t very good at it. He only got to learn the basics at the orphanage. Reading reminds him of the orphanage anyways, so it’s not something he’s very fond of. 

Likes to cook with kyoka, and they usually practise once a week. Sometimes, if they make a lot of whatever they were cooking or baking, they bring some to the agency to share. 

One of those people who is loud with the people he trusts and quiet with people he doesn’t know well.

VERY VERY oblivious. To the point that most jokes go RIGHT over his head. Ranpo likes to tease him about it, and when he does, Atsushi gets confused about it. 

“WDYM I'm oblivious? Wdym that was a joke? What?” 

Dazai

So silly

Puts sauce packets on the toilet seats FREQUENTLY. Like once a week. The agency members have learned to start checking under the toilet seats, and even though no one falls for it anymore (except maybe atsushi) he still does it. 

When he hears anyone talk about food he does one of two things: BEGS the person to give him some sort of food, and harasses/threatens them until they do, or orders food and proceeds to eat it right in front of the person, while making loud obnoxious comments on how good it is. If ANYONE asks for ANY he is rude as hell to them, and continues to silently glare at them while he eats.

Makes songs out of EVERYTHING. If someone stubs their toe, he’s singing about it. Someone dropped all their paperwork all over the lounge? He stands by and obnoxiously sings about the incident instead of helping. 

Occasionally, when he sees that Kunikida is under a lot of stress or pressure, he will do his paperwork. It's still a couple days late, but he does it. And sometimes he does some cleaning around the agency. 

Kunikida

Also loud and obnoxious, but in a different way. 

CONSTANTLY stressing about stuff he doesn’t need to. People tell him to calm down but he never listens. 

Has a #1 DAD mug that Dazai gave him when he got employee of the month.

Outside of work he enjoys drawing, but he rarely does it because of the tight schedule that is his life. 

Has a soft spot for Atsushi, and has a sort of paternal relationship with him.. Sometimes if Atsushi begs, he’ll deter from his schedule and spend some time with him. Sometimes they go out for a walk, or they set up activities for the agency to go do as a group. 

Ranpo

Hides in the agency bathroom like a highschooler, and plays games on his phone when he doesn’t want to do work, and doesn’t want to deal with people. 

Spends a lot of time on the roof of the agency. Sometimes he brings some headphones and listens to some music, sometimes he just watches the clouds. His favourite is when the day is kind of windy, but just enough that it's a light breeze. 

His favourite thing to do with the agency is board game night, and they meet up and do it about twice a month. He mainly likes it because he wins, but also just because he gets a little lonely sometimes living by himself. 

When he’s tired he gets kind of delirious ....you know when you stay up so late that everythings funny? That's him, but like 4 out of 5 days a week. 

Brings two bags a day to work: one filled with snacks, one filled with drinks. 

Kyoka

Only really talks with Kenji and Atsushi

Admires Yosano and despises Dazai

Prepares coffee or tea for everyone in the morning, and knows exactly how everyone likes it. 

Is actually TERRIBLE at cooking, so when she and Atsushi do it, he usually does most of the actual cooking. She is better at reading the recipe than him though.

A couple times throughout the year, she will try different hairstyles. She's completely against cutting it off, but not against learning some really complex braids. She's a quick learner, so it never takes her long. 

On the topic of hair, Atsushi likes to mess around with hers sometimes, and usually just brushes it because he can’t actually do much else without knotting it. 

She absolutely loves to go see fireworks with the Agency, because it was something she didn’t really get to do when she was younger. She sees the agency as her family, as weird as everyone is, and moments like that help her feel more connected to them

Her favourite member of the agency to spend time with one on one is Kenji, because they get along really well. He talks quite a bit, and she likes to listen, but he also knows when to be quiet. They go on walks a lot. 

Kenji

Has a garden on the roof of the agency

Him and Dazai tried to convince Fukuzawa to let them get a pet for the agency. They got a cat that dazai picked up off the streets, and no less than a week later, they had to get rid of it because it was diseased. 

Brings wounded birds to the agency frequently, which drives Kunikida off the walls, and he fixes them up on his desk. 

His desk is slightly smaller than most of the other agency members, and it has three drawers: the first one is full of stuff for any animal he may come across. Little bandages and medical supplies for animals, treats, even little things he can use to make a bed out of. The second drawer has his paperwork in it, and his pens and what not. The third drawer is full of a whole bunch of microwaveable meals

Adding on to the drawer of microwavable meals, Kenji hates to snack, because it never fills him up. He prefers to just eat a whole meal instead of eating something small, but sometimes he will if he has to. He also prefers savoury food over sweet food, but doesn’t mind some sweet stuff sometimes. 

Yosano

Gets along with basically all of the members of the agency

Dazai and her do wine tastings once a month. It usually ends with them just getting drunk

Helps Kenji with any wounded animals he brings in, and gives him tips and pointers on how to help them.

Her and Ranpo gossip A LOT, about literally anything they can get their hands on. They judge people A LOT. 

“This girl asked me out yesterday. The one from the cafe. She's ugly, no offence.” “EWW YESSS”

Forces Atsushi to come shopping with her, and forces him to hold all of her bags. She usually brings Ranpo or Dazai with her as well, and asks them for their opinions on the things she buys.

Sucks at cooking, so usually buys food from a convenience store for lunches and dinners.

Also one of the few agency members who doesn’t mind working late.

[trulycertain]

i'll be your mirror

In which Astarion receives a gift of a portrait. Developing Tav/Astarion. 2k words.

Astarion forgets that little conversation entirely - he's wondered what he looks like now so many times in two centuries that one more occasion, albeit one where he was rather less solitary in his vanity, hardly stands out.

He forgets it until he ducks out of his tent into the morning light, and... Interesting. There's a sheet of paper tucked under his jar of - ugh - slightly congealed blood. He can't help the dread rising at the back of his throat. Some note left to toy with him? (He can almost see it: that hideously neat, tight little handwriting. I know where you are, boy. He focuses on the sun's warmth on his skin, and takes a breath he doesn't need. No. It'll at least be a damn sight harder for the bastard now.)

Shaking off his paralysis, he unfolds it, and finds... a portrait. Hm. He squints, smoothing it and trying not to smear charcoal all over his fingers.

A handsome fellow, certainly - straddling the line between that and pretty. High cheekbones and long eyelashes and an elegant, straight nose. A bit of a wry glint in the eyes. (Impressive, capturing that. For all his talents with a dagger or a body, he's never been that kind of artist.) Crow's-feet around them, too, and lines around the mouth; a man, not a boy. Delicately pointed ears. A head of soft, pale curls.

The realisation drops onto him something like a very large rock.

...Ah.

He touches his own hair, absentmindedly, feeling a texture he'd know like the back of his hand but hasn't seen from that angle in two hundred years. If his hand is shaking a little, no-one else has to know.

He stares at cheekbones he must have traced over a thousand times, trying to rebuild a faint, shadowed picture that was fading in his head by the year. At the bow of this strange, handsome elf's lips. He maps it on his own face, finger tracing over another familiar shape that he could never quite envision. Besides, he'd been preoccupied with the newer, unwelcome shape of fangs.

But it doesn't feel wrong. The picture in his head was more of a featureless shadow with fantastic hair than anything else, but this… this has the ring of familiarity. They've even bothered to capture his moles; he puts a fingertip to his cheek, where one had been forgotten, not raised enough for him to know. 

Someone who sees him often, then, who knows his face. Someone - 

I'll be your mirror. Those hazel eyes tracing carefully over his face, when a night or two ago she caught him craning for a reflection that would never come. 

Lora. 

He's seen her scribbling away enough times; he just assumed she kept a journal. He saw the odd drawing - plants, mainly, things she'd bring to the tree-hugging bores at the Grove and ask about, or discuss with Gale... 

Like she's doing now. They're off in the woods with Gale trying to teach her some spell, and the worst thing? That's not even a euphemism. Even now, they're probably deep in debate. Ugh. 

But it does mean that the little journal she keeps is sitting on a log, temptingly unoccupied. He puts the drawing carefully aside, and then it's a matter of moments to wander over and close his hands on the book. If she didn't want anyone to look, she shouldn't have put it with the communal supplies. 

Making himself at home on the log, he flicks through it. Gods, she hasn't even used a cipher. To-do lists that seem to involve far too much saving helpless idiots, half-scribbled song lyrics and roughly dotted notes - even he can't somehow make those his business, and swiftly moves on - and… there. 

He recognises those roughly-drawn lines, the way they soften out to the curves of the cheeks. Gale, sketching out some mnemonic absentmindedly with three fingers, a faint swirl of magic drawn in a couple of lines. Karlach, beaming and dimpling quite becomingly. Wyll, practising his forms with a rapier. Shadowheart, deep in meditation while Lae'zel scowls at her.

And on the other page… Ah. Hello.

If he'd wondered, truly wondered, whether the other portrait was him, this one confirms it: he's caught in laughter, a wineglass in hand, and... He stares at his own fangs. She hasn't shied away from drawing them, but there's been more attention paid in rendering the firelight on his hair, the crinkling around his eyes. Neither fear nor fetishism. He... honestly, he has no idea what to do with that. Another, in profile view, and something must have rather pissed him off, from the look of it. Little notes cluster around the drawings on what herbs she needs to find, on infernal iron for Karlach, on drow poison for Astarion.

He turns the page, and is greeted by a drawing of the day they were caught in an impressive downpour and took shelter in a cave. Well, they were all caught, but the subject is him, specifically. He looks at half-flattened, sopping hair and his truly unimpressed expression. Is that what it looks like when he glares? He catches his brows pulling tight, in mimicry. This should be mocking, but it feels more… It's not as unflattering as it should be. Almost fond, which is odd, considering the sheer amount of time he and Lora spend arguing.

Perhaps… hmm. One doesn't draw a face that much without being a little enamoured of it, surely. That's probably all she wants, the look of him. She still grimaces at his goblin jokes, still stops to help every fool going and sighs when he complains. He'd thought perhaps they'd had a little breakthrough when she let him bite her, when she speculated on the taste of their companions - she has a streak of dark humour that he rather enjoys, when she's not too uptight to let it out. But then she put them all at risk and wasted time they didn't have to rescue that idiot bard from the goblins, and when Astarion glared at her, she glared back even more fiercely. Sometimes a glimpse of the sunrise is just a lantern, or some other foolish metaphor she'd use. So, seeing as his sparkling personality certainly isn't the draw here, it must be his looks. He can work with that. Hardly the first time. He thought he'd have to try his luck again with the terrifying gith or gods forbid, the wizard, but perhaps all isn't lost with the leader of their merry little band.

There's another drawing that makes him pause: him caught examining his own hand, in the sun. The look on his face - he's smiling, just slightly. He looks… happy. He doesn't look that soft, does he? The kind of soft that he can't afford to be. It's dangerous, it's stupidly complacent, it's… Annoyed, wary embarrassment prickles up his spine - has he been that obvious? When did she see that? How did he not catch her staring?

He flips back to the more general (safer) drawings. "Karlach," he says to his erstwhile red companion, who's currently keeping watch.

"Yeah?" She heads over to his makeshift seat, axe still slung over her shoulder. Her eyebrows raise. "Huh, those are good. Look at me!" She reaches out a finger - Astarion draws back the book protectively, and she remembers, face falling. The sight shouldn't bother him as much as it does.

"Yes, yes, but are they… accurate?"

She sits next to him, axe resting by her knee, and her eyes widen. She squints at him. "Oh shit, mirrors. How much do you remember?"

He shrugs, and if she looks any more pitying he may have to bite her, so he focuses on the book instead.

"These are… yeah, these are definitely you. Ha, look, this one's got the way your hair goes all curly round your ears! Aww, look at your little fangs!"

"'Little'?" he says, offended. He peers at her.

She grins at him, pointedly, with a mouth full of many.

"Hmph. Not all of us can be a hellspawn."

She's nudging the page carefully with a nail before he can protest. Her eyes widen. "Wow, these are really sweet…" Pausing, she looks up at him. "Astarion, where did you get this?"

"It was… communal," he tries, vaguely.

"Please tell me this isn't Lora's."

"She checks it around us all the time! She showed me her list of herbs just yesterday! It's not as if I'm reading her diary." But there's a reason he didn't just ask. They both know it.

"Astarion, sometimes you can be a real shit."

He knows. He stares at the drawings and reassembles his usual lack of care. "Hm? Sorry, I was busy being distracted by how pretty I am."

"I swear -"

He hears the steady footsteps and a creak of leather even under Karlach's words - he's always been a hard man to sneak up on - and looking up, resigns himself.

Lora says, "How come no-one invited me to this party?" Her footsteps stop abruptly when she sees what he's holding. There's the faintest flicker in her eyes, and then she pastes on a resigned, tired sort of smile. "I guess this is what I get for giving you gifts."

That… itches. He's had far worse said to him - had knives under his ribs - so it's not as if it really hurts, but she so clearly means it. She's not trying to posture, or hurt him. Her disappointment simply is.

Karlach and Gale seem to be having some kind of mouthed conversation, with hand gestures. Astarion distinctly catches the words Not getting involved on Gale's side. "Tell me if you need his arse kicking, mate," Karlach says, and stands, ushering Gale away with a hand on his elbow.

"I was looking for soup recipes?" he tries, not even aiming to be convincing.

"Sure." Lora takes her lyre from her back and leans it against the log, then sits to untie her boots. She doesn't look at him once. It's almost impressive.

It should be a relief: a break from her incessant brightness that felt too much like unwelcome sun, back in the pre-tadpole days. Finally not having to listen to how there are kind people, you'll see, now rescue that bunny from under a cart. Gods, somehow even her hair is wilting. It's pitiful. He'd be angry at the manipulation, but this seems too exhausted to be a manipulation. It's… real, he thinks.

Leaning on pity should work - and besides, it's the truth. "Can you blame me, after two hundred years? I just wanted to see if you had any more." He smooths a hand over the corner of the page. "I asked you what you saw when you looked at me. This is it, isn't it?" 

She nods, and that's all. A silent bard - somehow almost as ominous as a loud crypt.

He takes one last look, drinking in the familiar unfamiliarity of his face, and then carefully puts the book onto her lap. "Here. I think this is yours." His voice is quieting before he can help it - too damn soft, he thinks again, though perhaps softness will get her to let down her defences where simple seduction won't. "I can promise you, there won't be any repeats of my little endeavour today." Her eyes slowly raise to his, and he says, "It answered my question." He clears his throat, crosses one leg over another, and tries to look elegant rather than self-pitying. "You've… given me back my face. It was always just one more thing Cazador stole from me. Thank you." The words are far, far too real. He didn't quite mean to say it that bluntly. 

She blinks, seeming taken aback by his little display - and then she nods. The beginnings of forgiveness are in her slackening shoulders, the way she takes the briefest glimpse at him before it's gone again. It won't be a problem, travelling together today, even if she'll be quietly licking her wounds. Good.

The broken mirror is still lying in his tent when he returns. He sighs at the sight of it. And then he shifts old wine bottles and blood jars out of the way. It doesn't need much room, a small charcoal drawing - it certainly doesn't need him to clear a whole corner of his tent. Even so, he does, propping it up and looking at the life in his own eyes for longer than he'd want to admit. 

[sisterofsomeone]

Self Destruction

Summary: Lee Seokmin. No words could describe your love for him, how your heart raced when he was near. But you two were growing apart, his eyes and hands wandering away from yours. Now you harboured a growing hatred for the man you once loved so dearly, and as much as you wanted it to stop growing, he just kept adding fuel to the fire.

Warnings: toxic!Seokmin x toxic!fem!reader, slight Wonwoo x reader, established relationship, lovers to enemies to ???, ANGST!!!, swearing, cheating, smut MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, pet names (baby girl, pretty girl), oral sex (male receiving)

Word count: 2.4K

Author's note: Hello again! I have been on hiatus for over a year now, and have needed it honestly. But I'm back for a little while at least, and forcing myself out of hiatus by posting my first ever Seventeen fic. Honestly, it hasn't been proof read and I cannot promise it's any good, but here it is! Self Destruction is loosely inspired by a Shinso fic I wrote in 2021 called Just Kill Me (I've deleted my old masterlist but it's still rolling around on my blog if anyone wants to read it) and a line from Fight Club, "Self Improvement is masturbation, but self destruction..." and mainly fuelled by my current need for angst. Anyway, I won't hold you any longer, please enjoy my Seokmin fic Self Destruction!

This is a work of fiction and in no way is meant to represent the actions, ideals, or attitude of the idol Lee Seokmin.

Your footsteps were almost silent against the hardwood floors, soft patters competing against the roaring rain hurling into the windows. The sky was grey, covered over with heavy swollen clouds just unleashing their pain onto the world. Lighting your cigarette and taking a long, painful drag right into your lungs, you realised you could relate.

Seokmin was bent over the sink, the remnants of last night's attempt at a civilised dinner left abandoned by you both in the heat of the moment. He was attempting to patch things up again. Your arms snaked their way around his waist, fingers dancing across his stomach as you pushed your chest against his back. He stiffened, fingers halting in their quest to find the missing piece of smashed china and came to intertwine with yours.

"Did she taste as good as I do?" You punctuated the sentence with a kiss between his shoulder blades. He punctuated each word with an almost imperceptible tightening of his grip on your fingers.

"I don't know what you're talking about baby." He turned in your arms, the smile on his face not reaching his eyes. Your own smile faded, eyes scanning his features. Your chest ached. It was as if deep vines were carving and creeping their way through your lungs, forcing the oxygen out. "Who have I apparently been tasting?" He brought your hands in front of your face, his fingers still interlaced with yours. He kissed each one of your purple knuckles softly, eyes watching for any sign of discomfort.

"Seokmin, don't lie to me. I can't take it anymore. Seungcheol saw you. He caught you fucking her in the practise room." Your eyes dipped to his lips still pressed against the knuckle of your recently decorated ring finger. His own flickered up to meet yours, a brown hue you used to feel safe in, now you only wanted him to keep that brown far away from you.

"You're disgusting, you know that?" You pulled your hands away, stepping backwards. He only followed, his larger hands reaching for yours again.

"Baby-"

"Do not baby me." Turning on your heel, you left him alone again. Like you always did, before he could do the same to you.

The next morning Seokmin left you in that large, cold bed without so much as a word of goodbye. But you wouldn’t be alone for long.

Your breath escaped you as Wonwoo bullied his cock into you again and again. The grip he held on the back of your thighs as he folded you into a mating press was bruising. The sickening sound of skin hitting skin as he pounded your body further into your and Seokmin’s shared bed echoing through the room. You captured his lips with yours, carving red claw marks down his back as his hand left your thigh and slipped between your bodies to rub circles into your clit.

“I’m not going to last much longer.” He said between kisses.

“Then fuck me harder and make me cum quicker.”

“Watch that dirty mouth of yours or I won’t let you cum at all.” His tongue was back in your mouth, fighting for dominance against your own as he sped up his fingers against your throbbing clit and angled his hips to hit that spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. The air was hot, you could barely breathe, and Wonwoo pulled his mouth from yours in favour of burrowing his face in the space between your neck and your shoulder. Your end came before his, your walls fluttering and tightening around his cock, trying to milk him dry. He followed soon after, pulling out and painting your stomach. It was always in this moment that you wished you could end things with Wonwoo. Wished that you could trust Seokmin to never cheat on you again, to be with him like this and only him. But until he learned to keep it in his trousers, you wouldn’t keep it in yours. And Wonwoo was always more than willing to indulge you. He stood from the bed, grabbing a tissue box from your ensuite and throwing it at you. This moment also always passed in silence. You didn’t need words of comfort from Wonwoo or aftercare, you got what you wanted and so did he. All that was left to do now was hide the evidence.

Seokmin came home early from practise that evening, saying something about Seungcheol not wanting him to be there until this was sorted out. You laughed at that, a short harsh sound pushing it way out of your lungs. You pushed the plate of food towards him, and he thanked you quietly. Dinners used to be filled with laughter, talking about your future together. Now they mainly passed in silence, with the occasional screaming match thrown in.

“Wonwoo was late to practise again today.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, covered in fresh scratch marks from his new secret girlfriend. Chan was making fun of him all while I was there.” You nodded along, pushing the food around on your plate. He stood, taking his plate and placing it into the sink. The accusation was clear but left unspoken.

Seokmin spent the evening draining your liquor cabinet as you watched and occasionally joined him. He was quiet, usually a tall ask for the man, but tonight he couldn’t muster up the courage to say the words he wanted to say. I hate the thought of you and him. Him and you. You belong to me. You whore. You harlot, you liar. I wish I had never met you. I wish I could leave you. I wish –

Your own thoughts were swirling around your head like dark clouds. Painful, heavy things that took all your willpower to ignore. You wanted to confront him again, but just a glance at the hole you’d left in the wall last time and your slowly healing knuckles halted that idea. You wanted so desperately to be able to fall into his arms again, but it wasn’t meant to be. The very idea brought tears to your eyes, a common occurrence after you’d indulged your more painful thoughts. Seokmin noticed this, he always did, but unlike all those other times he moved to you. He pulled you onto the sofa with him, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you close. His thoughts stopped at this exact moment, all hatred he harboured for you falling from him like the tears from your eyes. He shushed you, pressing soft kisses across your face.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for betraying you like that again my pretty girl.”

“I’m sorry too. I don’t know what came over me.” He kissed you deeper this time, with more passion than he has done for the past few months. You pulled him closer by his collar, silently begging for more. He pulled away, scanning for any sign of hesitation before taking you in his arms and carrying you to the bedroom.

The sheets were clean from the day. The tissue box was back in the ensuite.

He threw you onto the bed before climbing on top of you and pressing kisses across your collarbones. Your hands found the straps of your shirt and pulled them down, allowing him more access to your burning skin. His kisses were sloppy, full of a fire that you never wanted to extinguish. His hands caressed your body, tracing lines from your thighs to your hips, then climbing to cup your breasts through your shirt. You moaned softly, encouraging him to dip his fingers beneath the material of your shirt and unclasp your bra. His mouth found yours again as you undressed underneath him, allowing his hands to have free roam over your breasts, to play with you and draw out those noises he so loved.

Noises that Wonwoo got to pull from you as well.

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and focused on pulling more of those noises from you. He would fuck you – no, make love to you – better than Wonwoo ever did. You were Seokmin’s after all. His fingers dropped from your chest as his mouth left yours. “You’re such a needy girl baby.” You nodded, chasing his lips with your own. A laugh left him and his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your skirt and traced the top of your panties. You nodded, giving permission for him to use you as he so desired. And he did.

His fingers were one of the things you loved most about Seokmin. His long, slender fingers dipped into your panties and found your clit. He began to draw lazy circles as you keened under him. “That’s it baby girl, am I making you feel good?” Your moans answered him and gave flight to his ego once more. “Yes Minnie, oh god yes. Don’t stop.” You pulled his face back to yours, forcing him to kiss you once more. His fingers sped up as he swallowed more of your moans. Your hands dipped to his belt, untying it and moving his zipper. You could feel his bulge through his jeans before slipping your hand into them and caressing him through his boxers. Now it was his turn to moan into your open mouth, fingers moving from your clit to circle your hole. You were clenching around nothing, just a mess waiting for Seokmin to stretch you out again. He pulled away, his warmth leaving you.

“Undress for me baby. Please.” It took only a moment for you to shimmy out of your skirt and panties while Seokmin undressed at the end of the bed. You couldn’t hold back the moan that bubbled from your chest as his cock sprung free from his boxers, precum already leaking from the tip.

“Can I taste you? Please Seokmin?” You raised yourself up to your knees, a pout playing on your lips as Seokmin groaned.

“Fuck yes my pretty little thing.” His hands reached for your face to bring you closer. You placed one hand around the base of him before placing a soft, delicate kiss to his tip. Wrapping your lips around the head of his cock you glanced up at Seokmin. His face was flushed, eyes trained on your every movement. His mouth was dropped open, moans leaving him as you moved your head back and forth, working your tongue along him as you hollowed your cheeks. His hands tangled in your hair, a makeshift ponytail the only thing grounding him while you worked him, wrapped your tongue around his cock and played him like a fiddle.

“Fuck, just like that baby. God you’re so much better than her.” You pulled off him, hands scrambling to push him away from you.

“What the fuck Seokmin? What did you just say?” The panic was evident on his face. He didn’t mean for it to slip out. Oh god maybe he did, maybe he wanted to hurt you in that moment while all he could think about was your mouth around Wonwoo.

“Baby, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean it, I don’t know what came over me.” He reached out for you, but you swatted his hand away, pushing yourself back up the bed and away from him. You scrambled to cover yourself with your discarded shirt. He stood still.

“What the fuck do you mean you didn’t mean it?” Your words were dripping in venom, face contorted in disgust and pain. You could feel your eyes welling with tears.

“I mean…” He paused. “Fuck, look, I don’t know why I said it. I thought in the moment-“

“In the moment? What, while your cock was in my mouth you thought I wanted to hear your detailed thoughts about who’s better at sucking your dick, your fiancé or another one of your backup dancers?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” You threw a pillow at him, but he just caught it and held it across himself. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” The room went silent, just the sound of your breathing to be heard.

“Well, you did. You fucking did. You’re disgusting.”

“Oh, fuck off!” He was shouting now. “Fuck off with your self-pity bullshit. Like you weren’t lying there thinking of him this whole time.” He threw the pillow back at you, his face and chest flushed again, but this time out of anger. “I can’t fucking stand you anymore, I can’t sit there and watch you spread your legs for my best fucking friend and then turn around and belittle me.”

“Because at least I only fuck the same guy behind your back! I don’t parade myself around and fuck the first girl I see that day who takes my fancy. I don’t sit there and let makeup artists or hair stylists or journalists suck my cock or leave lipstick marks on my shirts!” You were crying again now. Dragging yourself up from the bed, you started pulling clothes from your wardrobe.

“What the hell are you doing now?” You threw on underwear and the first shirt you could get your hands on before throwing some clothes at Seokmin.

“I can’t. I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend like this isn’t killing me, like this is healthy anymore.” He was dressing with you as you packed up a bag.

“What? Wait, no you can’t-“

You stretched out your hand to Seokmin, the ring placed in the middle of your palm. Seokmin just stood there staring at it, eyes unblinking, unmoving. You took his hand and placed the ring in his palm, stepping backwards, away from him for good.

“You can’t be serious. Please.” His voice wavered. It never did that before. In all the time you’ve known him, loved him, he’d never once shown any sadness during a fight, never once been so obviously afraid. “I can’t do this without you. I need you, please.” He reached for you again and you stepped back. The repetition of all of this was infuriating. Maddening. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it anymore.

This was when the storm started. That dark, heavy storm that battered the house and rattled the windows. The pair of you stood there in silence, tears falling from the both of you. But as much as your heart was breaking, you couldn’t find it in yourself to go to him. You had reached the point of no return.

“I want you gone by the morning. Please.” And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Seokmin alone in that bedroom that was now too big and too cold.

Your footsteps were almost silent against the hardwood floors, soft patters competing against the roaring rain hurling into the windows. The sky was grey, covered over with heavy swollen clouds just unleashing their pain onto the world. Lighting your cigarette and taking a long, painful drag right into your lungs, you realised that the two of you could never come back from any of this.

[calypso707]

Astarion x Fem!Tav bard : Fruit of The Poisonned Tree

Intro : Every day, she longed for his touch, his lips against her skin, his voice in her ears, his whole being.

Tags : 3rd pov for this one because i'm more comfortable with it, few chapters comings, this story will be mainly romance I guess, risk of spoilers about Astarion, ascendant form coming..

I hope you’ll like this first chapter, enjoy ! ~

Chapter 1 -

She missed her home at Baldur's Gate deeply. Although the majority of the inhabitants were humans, she had always felt at home there, with the river Chiontar within easy reach. For a bard, she had risen quite successfully and was well liked by the populace and the local lords, often performing at balls and other festivities. What she missed was practising her music on the riverbank, singing to the Blushing Mermaid from morning till night without her vocal chords weakening. She missed the simplicity and comfort of her past life. Quite simple. And in just a few days, it was all gone.

She had been kidnapped by mindflayers, had an illithid larvae inserted behind her eye, survived the crash of their ship,had fought gnolls, goblins and other creatures and now she was sleeping under the stars surrounded by odd companions. A few details aside, that was all. Normal people would have spread this over several months. She was still trying to figure out how she had managed to survive this far.

She looked towards her companions who were surrounding the campfire a few metres away. She had isolated herself, as she like to do, to be alone with her thoughts. Her eyes passed over each of her companions, starting with Lae'zel, a gith she had met aboard the nautiloid. However grumpy her nature was, she had shown unfailing loyalty and was a great ally. She had also crossed paths with a cleric and disciple of Shar by the name of Shadowheart. Then she met Gayle, a magician, in the funniest possible way. Wyll, nicknamed the Blade of Frontiers, son of the Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate who had made a strange pact with a devil, Karlach, a tiefling with a fiery temper and, finally, him.

Astarion.

Tav finally focused her gaze on him, comfortably seated on a wooden chair by the fire, his feet resting on a log. In his right hand he was holding a steel cup, and she could easily guess that the inside was some old brandy, the liquor he enjoyed the most. In his other hand, he was holding a book, he seemed to be absorbed by his reading. From time to time, Karlach teased him to include him in the conversation with the others. The bard tilted her head slightly and squinted her eyes to read the title engraved in gold on the cover of the book, "The Curse of The Vampyr". She held back a smile at the irony of the situation and wondered about the veracity of the tale. Did he see himself in what he was reading? She was curious to know exactly what the manuscript was about - was there anything new she did not already knew?

Her gaze followed the curve of the vampire's arm to focus on his face. His perfect face lit by the dancing light of the fire in front of him. She caught a glimpse at his fangs as he silently read parts of the book, her eyes detailing his perfectly shaped nose before finally coming to rest on his eyes. It was as red as the blood itself, and it pierced her soul every time he looked at her. She felt her heart skip a beat - she had never imagined herself becoming allied and close to such a creature. She had never seen anyone like him. He was dangerously charming and eloquent beyond compare. He was quick-witted, mischievous, teasing and delighted in the misfortune of others. He had a penchant for manipulation, lies, expensive alcohol, art and poetry. And she cursed herself for being drawn to him. Because she knew the influence he could have on her. He was the devil on her shoulder who drove her to commit terrible sins.

It took all her strength to stop staring at him like that, and she returned her attention to the violin at her feet, her fingers brushing the strings. Music was her magic, but it was so much more: it was also a sign of power. A power that could keep battles alive, make heroes eternal, but also shatter reputations and turn cities to pieces. She took a deep breath, as if to restore her own self-confidence, and picked up her musical instrument to return to the others. As she approached the campfire, she realised that everyone had already gone back to their occupations, except Astarion. The vampire looked up from his book to examine the young woman for a few seconds; she could not tell if it was the firelight that was having that effect, but a strange glint shone in his eyes. He stopped reading completely as he closed the book and locked his hands against his chest, still looking at her as she awkwardly sat down at the opposite of him.

"Interesting book? Did you learn anything new?" asked Tav, grabbing a half-full cup from the ground at her feet. Bringing the cup to her lips, she took a big gulp and immediately regretted it, repressing the urge to wince. From the strong aroma of the alcohol, she guessed that it was Chultan Fireswill.

"Surprisingly, no," he sighed. "I was expecting to learn something unusual, so I must admit I am a little disappointed," said Astarion, shrugging his shoulders.

She smiled at his answer, her eyes glued to the flames waving in front of her. The fire was blocking her view of Astarion and it was no bad thing, given how easily she lost her composure when she was alone with him and he liked to take advantage of that. She was glad there was this barrier between them.

"Now, darling, are you trying to run away from me?" asked Astarion. She was able to guess the mischievous smile on his lips. She barely had time to reply when she saw him rise from his chair, walk around the fire and come to her side. He held out his right hand, the other resting casually on his hip.

"All this brandy and small talk whetted my appetite. Shall we ?"

Tav lost herself in his crimson eyes for a few seconds before finally grabbing his hand to get up, leaving her violin on the bare ground. The vampire quietly led her to his tent, which she entered. It was not the first time she had entered it, but the smell wafting through the small space made her heart throb every time. Brandy, rosemary and bergamot. She looked over her shoulder at Astarion, who was closing the entrance to the tent with his agile fingers before returning to her. His fingertips grazed the crook of her neck, a shiver running through her body. He gently wrapped the long braid around his arm as he positioned himself behind her, applying gentle pressure to tilt her head back.

"I have waited for this moment with great patience," he said hoarsely.

Tav tried to calm her breathing, excitement and apprehension gradually taking over her body. She hated as much as she enjoyed the effect he had on her. Astarion tugged gently once more on the braid to tilt her head to the right, exposing her neck completely. He lowered his head, inhaling the scent she gave off before placing a chaste kiss on her sensitive skin. He slidded his other hand up her stomach before touching her breasts, grasping the lace of her corsage with his fingertips and pulling it with a calculated, disconcerting slowness to reveal the birth of her breasts. She half-opened her mouth, her breathing getting heavier and heavier.

"Stop playing that little game," she said. "Be very, very quiet, darling. You do not want to wake up the others" he answered, teasingly.

He then began to place another kiss behind her pointed ear, before placing another one against her neck. She felt something cold brush her skin, she guessed it was his fangs. This was followed by a stabbing pain that radiated throughout her neck. It was not the first time he had fed on her, but each time the ache surprised her. She leaned her back against his chest and placed her hand on Astarion's, which was resting on her breasts, intertwining her fingers with his. She listened to him feed, closing her eyes. Each of his sips, each of his breaths sounded like a melody to her ears. For her, this kind of moment was just as sensual and intimate, it brought them closer in a different way and that was what she enjoyed. Every day, she longed for his touch, his lips against her skin, his voice in her ears, his whole being.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

thank you so much for reading this first chapter, i hope you liked it! I've published the rest on Ao3 : Fruit of the Poisonned Tree. I'll mainly be posting my OS on Tumblr!

[sacrifical-lamb-core]

How does the majic of Sondine work?

Sondine are connected to the majic of the world. This includes the Basic Majic (elemental majic, light, darkness, fire, water, earth and air) and the Advanced Majic (spells and potions).

Since the Majic of the world is mainly found in nature, which is also all around us, the Sondine have a better connection to it, especially light and darkness. Most people will find themselves being adept at both light and darkness but excelling at one other element more. You can still do all of the other stuff, just not at the same high level. The reasons why kids practice Basic Majic first is because it's the easiest, it strengthens you and your connection to the Majic around you.

You have to be a certain age and skill level to learn Advanced Majic, but ti's mostly agreed that at ages 11-16 you cam begin. Spells and potions may require wands, since they need focusing of the Majic inside of you.

Casting a spell is a bit like this:

You have to learn it first, practise it, by drawing out the pattern for that spell. You then trace that drawing with your wans, practising the hand motions and movements. Soon, your wand will become adjusted and learn what this spell is, and hopefully, just shouting out the words is enough after it's been properly learned.

@astraowlee @book-girl4eva @auroraofthesun1

[concerningwolves]

do you have any like, folkore book recommendations? it could be of any folklore! although, i mainly know about Greek & Norse. or maybe perhaps, books about witchcraft & demonology?

Anon I am kissing you on the forehead. thank you for this ask

If you like Norse myths, Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman is a really good starting point – I adore how Gaiman weaves a narrative through the tales so that they feel cohesive. (I think this can be a slightly problematic practise, but imho it's also very effective if you want to just read and enjoy some myths). I read it in one day and then had Many Thoughts for the rest of the week.

Northern Lights: Legends, Sagas and Folk-tales edited by Kevin Crossley-Holland is a collection of Norse and Germanic stories. I've been meaning to reread this one because I don't think I was in the right headspace to really enjoy it the first time, so I can't give much of a review other than I feel it gives a really nice entry-point to anyone who wants to branch out beyond the more popular Norse myths. (Plus, it's up on the Internet Archive)

For a more scholarly deep-dive into Norse myths, I wholeheartedly recommend Gods and Myths of Northern Europe by H. R. Ellis Davidson. It's a deeply fascinating book which looks at the cultural history around Norse myths, then walks through how much we actually know about each Norse god and goddess. (I am still haunted by the fact Davidson says that Heimdall has been described as a "woodpecker god" and then doesn't elaborate)

Moving into Greek myths, I'm a big fan of the Mythos series by Stephen Fry. It's three books, one covering the cosmology of the Greek mythic world; one focusing on the myths around heroes and demigods; and the last telling the story of the Siege of Troy. Like with Gaiman's Norse Mythology, Fry brings a sense of narrative cohesion to the myths, but he's not just telling a story – he talks about the sources and different variations of the myths, which I find so fascinating. I've listened to the audiobooks three times now.

The folklore I'm most into is British Isles folklore. The Fairies in Tradition and Literature by Katharine Briggs is a fast favourite. Despite the title, she also looks at a wide variety of fairy-adjacent folkloric beings. I had so so much fun reading it.

(And on the subject of English folklore, two recent-ish favourites are The Folklore of Sussex by Jacqueline Simpson and the Folklore of Hertfordshire by Doris Jones-Baker; they're part of a collection of regional folklore books which I'm determined to read in its entirety. I really appreciated the way Simpson wrote about witchcraft and the kind of people most often accused of being witches).

I cannot talk about folktale books without recommending English Fairytales and More English Fairytales by Joseph Jacobs. I've only read More English Fairytales, but I've read it... so much. I killed my first copy with love and had to get another one. I picked up English Fairytales in a secondhand shop last week and I'm excited to start reading it. I think both are available online for free, too.

I'll have to go look at my cabin bookshelves tomorrow because I'm sure I'm forgetting some other favourites; I just wanted to answer this now before it got swallowed by my drafts forever

If anyone else has any recs of books on folklore, I would greatly appreciate them :3 (and I'm sure anon will too)

[chevvy-yates]

*Ding Dong* Guten Tag, Boro mein Name. Haben sie vielleicht ein paar Minuten Zeit, um über ihre Blorbos zu reden?

One for everyone, but just answer those you like, no pressure!

Vijay: 43 // Jaysen: 49 // Ryder: 2 // Thyjs: 41 // Hizumi: 32 // Falco: 20 

:D

43. Do they prefer day or night?

Vijay prefers day as he feels he gets more private stuff done even though he's not an early bird (wakes up mostly around 1pm). Nighttime for him means mostly work — merc work. There are day work exceptions tho. You can say he's comfortable with both but still he would always prefer daytime over night time.

49. What's their favorite store to be in? Least favorite?

Jay's favorite store to be in is practically any store that sells awesome cars. He will be inspecting every car and even think about what could be the best way to steal one of them. His least favorite store is anything that sells healthy products.

2. A sound they find irritating

The sound deers are making. They are such cute and even majestic creatures and then they do this.

41. What kind of exercise do they most enjoy/need?

Thyjs needs his daily dosage of Militech soldier training. When he gets up first he does is go jogging. Also trains with a box sack to practise his dodging but that isn't enough for an Ex-Militech and KCT soldaat! So either he goes alone or with Ryder or even Arki and does some assault course he and the boys built up in an empty industrial site to stay fit. Often they train together and exercise so they stay skilled and fit for merc work. Thyjs though is the one who trains most and each day.

32. What is their ideal work environment in terms of light, sounds, other people, etc.?

Hizumi's ideal work environment is definitely not down in the streets. They prefer to work and operate from roofs and other higher points so they can overlook everything. It's mainly because they don't feel safe on the ground in Night City. Rooftops give them some shelter so whenever Hizumi works on something (also counts for training) they do it on a rooftop. Light is not really needed and sounds are less noisy on the roof as well. They are not in need of other people but they do enjoy when e.g. Ryder joins them for sword fight practise as both use blades (Ry is only mantis tho, while Hizumi wields katana/tanto).

20. A song that instantly transports them back to a certain memory.

That would be this song:

Falco is, like Ryder, a Techno(ise) connoisseur and he went to his first techno(ise) party in his teens already (unlike Ryder) and this song is one of the first one that sucked him into this world for real. It made him start wanting to create his own music and in general he's got lots of good memories of partying in Cologne to this song. Even today it's on his playlist as the last played song before he goes off the stage.

[charlesandmartine]

Tuesday 17th December 2024

Our first night in the 19th bed since we left England was comfortable despite the quartet. Navigating an unfamiliar dark route to the bathroom at night, that an architect has unkindly or thoughtlessly factored a disguised step into, is now a skill which has also now been practised 19 times. It is something we take in our own stride and are accomplished at. It was most pleasing to sit for our first breakfast on our deck, watching the good people of 1770 go about their work and leisure on the waters in front of us. Small craft being prepared for fishing expeditions, larger boats heading out into deeper oceans, the waves lapping along the reappearing sandbanks that spread across the bay and around which Captain Cook would've had to navigate the bark Endeavour. All the while, a myriad of unrecognised brightly coloured birds chirping unseen in the lush banks of trees. Coconuts grow on a palm tree, which casts shade in our garden. This is indeed another touch of paradise and a total anathema why people might dismiss Australia in preference to New Zealand. It is such a vast land of both variety and diversity. Just yesterday, on our way south from Rockhampton on the Bruce Highway, and travelling alongside the railway line, seeing one kilometre long trains ploughing along hauling coal hewn from the mines in Blackwater on route to the ports, exporting 200 million tons each year from Queensland alone, mainly to the eastern Asia markets. It's just one of Australia's huge resources supplying the world outside its shores. Polluting resources in this case, obviously!

Then the rains set in, earlier than forecast, not in nice little showers, but torrents of the stuff, with an urgency usually reserved for times of extreme need. We personally do not need this. Nevertheless, the British did not build an empire without getting wet, we set off for the library to enjoy their free WiFi since our hosts, despite the huge fee paid do not feel it within their remit to provide some. The WiFi was indeed free, as was the opinion of the rather fierce librarian who declared in perhaps a voice too loud, and hence inappropriate for such a hushed environ, that the establishment was about to close. Well, it is Tuesday! The girl in the adjacent Tourist Information centre then became nervous in case she was supposed to close as well, advised that despite the distinct risk of further precipitation, we could go for a walk across the carpark, through the woods, to the Discovery Trail Lookout point. Should the excitement not be sufficient in that we were advised to travel back to 1770 and the Captain Cook monument within the Joseph Banks conservation park. We first walked to the lookout and did, indeed, lookout. Then, to the IGA for a few necessary supplies, including excellent sausage rolls x 2, lunch, and then off for the supplementary excitement at the Cook Monument. This monument marked the spot above the point on the beach the great man came ashore. A crew member then shot a bustard weighing 17 1/2 pounds, which they cooked for the officers of Endeavour who remarked it was the tastiest meat they'd had in a long while. Possibly the only meat they'd had in a long while. They then named the place Bustard Bay; a fitting name by all accounts. Clearly, bustard didn't catch on as a local favourite because we then went to get fish & chips from the Rusty Pelican, and bustard definitely wasn't available. We sat on our deck balcony eating our meal, the sun setting across the sea, and the kookaburras and frogs serenaded us before they carried themselves off to bed. It was such a thrill to sit here as it became dark, the glow of our tee lights lit our surrounding area, the pin pricks of light from the boats in Bustard Bay punching holes in the darkness and the thought that if the clocks could be wound back 254 years, we would have seen directly in front of us, below the constellation of the Southern Cross, Captain Cook RN sail serenely into the bay and to change history forever.

[kemendin]

Shattered Sanctum

So! As of this week, I have officially been writing what I’ve been calling Fortress Funtimes - pre-Echoes of Oblivion ‘current’ story with a large flashback segment to, you guessed it, Caspian’s experiences on the Emperor’s Fortress - for a whole year!

This thing is sitting at roughly 40k words right now, and is nowhere near done. Obviously I’ve been working on a lot of other, shorter stories in between, and there has been a lot of strugglebussing over FF, mainly because I’ve never tackled such a long and plot-heavy story before. I have no idea when I’ll cross the finish line on this one.

But - I’m honestly really proud that I’ve kept at it for a whole friggin year, folks! So I thought I’d post one of the earlier chapters as it stands now - not real spoilery except for the canon JK story, but it’s one of my favourites so far.

“By my master’s command - you must die.”

The Emperor’s sanctum sings with the sounds of battle as Lord Scourge, the Emperor’s Wrath, drives his scarlet lightsaber at the two Jedi Knights who, against all odds, have overcome the fortress’ defences to strike the final blow for victory.

Or so they think. They are, in fact, devastatingly mistaken.

One is a young woman, fair-skinned and with auburn hair that flares brighter whenever she dodges through a pool of stark red light. Kira Carsen, former Child of the Emperor - now broken free, yet still fresh in her role as a Knight. 

She is eager, driven, and skilled, but she lacks experience, and it shows in the way she parries and thrusts with her blue-bladed saberstaff. She puts too much of herself into each strike, believing too fervently that she can win, must win, at any cost. It’s a common weakness of younger Jedi, particularly when facing Sith opponents, and Scourge knows how to use it against her. More than once he offers her an opening in his defences, and then sends her staggering back as she goes for the feint and is instantly repelled.

The other Jedi is only slightly older than Carsen, but he is proving himself a noteworthy combatant nonetheless. His green-gold blade has intercepted several strikes meant for his companion, as he puts himself between Carsen and the Sith like a challenge.

Caspian Serapis, the so-called Hero of Tython. By no means the most formidable duelist that the Wrath has ever faced, nor the strongest in the Force, and yet he stands apart. Scourge finds it curious that even here, before the Sith Emperor himself, he can detect no true sign of fear flashing within the Jedi’s pale eyes, or twisting at his dark-skinned face.

That face. Scourge had recognised it instantly on Quesh, with a jolt that wrenched him back across more than three centuries. Where once before he had drawn his lightsaber alongside two Jedi, and a throne room of the Emperor was shattered by a desperate bid to end Vitiate’s immortality. 

They had failed. But within their failure, guided by the Force, Scourge had sown the seed of victory; and here, at last, he has the first taste of its fruit. His wait for the Jedi of his vision, so long ago, has not been in vain.

That Jedi strikes at him again, several deliberate blows that force Scourge into the reach of the other knight, who whirls her longer blade at the Wrath’s side. The two work well together: their relative inexperience is offset by the harmony of their movements, each complementing the other with practised coordination. She is swift; he is tenacious. But Scourge is quicker and more relentless than both, and he deflects Carsen’s attempt to impale him from behind, sending her saber scoring harmless across the edge of his cuirass. Almost in the same motion he swings his own blade at the other Jedi, a forceful blow that staggers Serapis and loses him the few paces he’d just gained on the Sith.

The battle has been going on for several minutes now, and tugging at the back of his brain, Scourge can sense his master’s thinning patience for the display. Moreover, he can feel the rest of the Jedi strike team closing in on their position. As expected, the alterations to the security grid had impeded their progress, just enough to allow Serapis and Carsen to reach the throne room alone. But now the time for stalling is at an end.

Scourge believes in the will of the Force, in the vision granted to him - just as Revan had believed, centuries ago. But he also believes in leaving little to chance. After three hundred years of biding his time, he’s not about to let it all unravel the instant he can sense the final goal within his grasp. He’s had a taste of his opponent, and he’s not been disappointed. Now Scourge must ensure that the Jedi’s destiny - and his own - are not brought to a premature end within the stronghold of their enemy.

With that in mind - it is time to shift the tide in favour of the Jedi.

The Sith lowers his guard, then, and allows the two young knights to press their attack, driving him slowly back towards his master’s throne. It’s a plausible turn in the battle; despite their shortcomings, the Jedi have held their own remarkably well against him, and have both managed to pierce his black armour at least once. With enough time, it’s entirely possible they might have overcome the Emperor’s Wrath by their own hands.

But time is not an asset that any of them, including the immortal Wrath, still possess.

Assaulted on both sides by the fierce-eyed Jedi, Scourge makes a show of succumbing to their onslaught at last. He keeps his focus on Serapis as their lightsabers flash and strobe in deadly reflections across the polished floor, now marred with the glowing scars of their fight. He feels Carsen dart in behind him again, trying to deal an incapacitating blow while his back is turned - and for an instant his pride reasserts itself. No, he snarls inwardly. There is now only one in this galaxy he will allow himself to submit to.

He snaps round, catching her blade with his own and twisting it away with enough momentum to send the weapon spinning out of her hands. Before she can recover he strikes at her with the Force, sending her tumbling away after her weapon. Her cry of surprise echoes through the cavernous chamber.

But he’s left himself vulnerable before Serapis, and an instant later pain sears through his body as the Jedi’s verdant blade plunges through one side of his armoured torso. Not a death blow - even fighting his way through the fortress, this Jedi in particular has seemed averse to killing - but it is more than enough to drop Scourge heavily to his knees, his own lightsaber falling from his hand.

The pain of the wound lances through him as he fights to catch his breath; a sweet, exquisite agony anchoring him to his flesh where usually there is only a void. He relishes it, he revels in it, even as he kneels and bows his head before the vision of his destiny.

“You’re beaten,” says Serapis flatly. The tip of his lightsaber hums warily near Scourge’s throat. “It’s over.”

No, Jedi, thinks Scourge. It has only begun.

The Sith lifts his head again, staring up impassively into the face that had, for a brief time, hovered every night in his dreams, before his dreams themselves were stripped away for good.

“You are nearly the Jedi’s finest,” he says calmly, and pauses for a fraction of an instant. “It is not enough to save you.”

“We’re not the ones who need saving.” Carsen has picked herself up and limped over to stand beside her fellow knight, taking a moment to kick Scourge’s lightsaber out of reach in a decidedly petty act of retaliation.

Serapis is breathing hard, his brow gleams with sweat, but otherwise he is still impressively controlled. “We’re here for your master, not his lapdog,” he tells Scourge tightly. “The others will be here in a moment. If you want to live, you won’t interfere.”

Scourge narrows his eyes, and his lip curls at the Jedi’s arrogance. That, he decides, is something they will have to work on.

“Even in defeating me, you haven’t earned an audience with him,” he replies softly. “Be careful what you wish for.”

But even as he says it, he senses his master’s presence stirring, casting a shadow through the sanctum. He watches as the other Jedi invaders arrive and rush through the door, only to draw up short, buffeted back by the sheer, overwhelming darkness of the Sith Emperor. Carsen shrinks back, her gaze wide. Only Serapis stands his ground, his face taut as he raises his eyes to the Emperor.

Good, thinks Scourge. He will need that resolve.

A dark figure unfolds itself from the throne suspended like a drop of blood on the precipice before the Jedi. The Emperor is a void, faceless and unfeeling, and yet his disdain radiates throughout the sanctum.

“Misdirected passion. Such a waste.” His voice is cold beyond measure - not the chill of ice, but the emptiness of the space between stars.

The leader of the Jedi team is a Kel Dor master who now pushes forward, struggling against the weight of the Emperor’s condescension. “It will not be a waste, if you cooperate,” he says. “Please accompany us to Tython.”

In that moment Scourge wishes he could remember how to laugh, because even with his life still held at saberpoint, the incredible audacity of this request - the ignorance - would have had him rolling on the floor.

“An infantile display, Tol Braga,” says the Emperor, his tone hollowed with contempt. “Reckless pride, limned by self-righteousness. You have been a fleeting amusement. Nothing more.”

“You’re wrong.” It is Serapis who speaks this time, lifting his chin in defiance. “We’ve done what no other Jedi could do. We’ve infiltrated your hidden fortress, broken through your defences, and defeated your Wrath.” He flourishes his lightsaber towards the Sith still knelt at his feet, his voice hard. “One way or another, we’ll bring an end to this. To you, and to the poison you spread throughout the galaxy.”

A fine speech, thinks Scourge, but that is all. Brazen words that hold no basis in the reality of this situation. 

With the Jedi distracted by their futile attempts to negotiate, the Sith shifts lightly in place. He can feel the biochemical implants embedded in his body already at work, mending muscles and organs and skin where Serapis’ lightsaber had scarred him. In only a short time, he will be fit to fight again. But he doesn’t expect to need to. No, the Jedi, all of them, have already lost, and the pitiful part is - they can't even see it.

The Emperor leaps forward from his throne and descends to the metal platform below, bearing with him all the weight of a dying star. The impact of his feet hitting the floor sends ominous shudders through the throne room as his dark visage turns its weight upon Serapis.

“You mistake me for your own weak flesh. I do not end.”

He reaches out, grasping with one black-gloved hand. Serapis gasps suddenly from where he stands above Scourge, his eyes going wide and his grip on his lightsaber faltering.

 “You stand there because I allow it. Because I do not fear. But now - now you will know nothing else.”

The Emperor’s words sound like a death knell through the chamber, and almost too abrupt to follow, Serapis is cast forcefully back. He slams into the polished floor and goes skidding away, coming to rest at the feet of his fellow Jedi.

“Cas!” cries Carsen, and she rushes recklessly towards the Emperor, only to be thrown after the other knight.

Scourge drapes an arm casually across his knee as he watches the other Jedi igniting their lightsabers, watches Serapis and Carsen pulling themselves to their feet. Admirable of them to keep trying, but too little, too late. He already knows how this will end. He knew before they even set foot within the fortress. They are not the first to have foolishly made this attempt.

The Emperor spreads his hands, and the air itself seems to darken, before a crackling cascade of Force lightning engulfs the far side of the room. Unprepared and overwhelmed by the Emperor’s power, most of the Jedi fall after only a few moments, their scorched bodies thudding limply to the floor, one by one.

But at the front edge of the storm, Serapis has caught the tongues of lightning against his blade. Teeth gritted in desperation, he tries to force ahead towards the throne, fighting to hold the Emperor’s will at bay. He gets in one step. Two steps. Three. Scourge’s gaze is rapt with attention as he observes the young Jedi’s trembling form. He has to concede - he is impressed. He’s not seen such resistance to the Emperor’s power since Revan.

Four steps. Five -

But here, in the heart of the Emperor’s fortress, the twisting torrent of the dark side is still too strong. Serapis’ hoarse scream is lost in the storm as it closes in around him, burning through his armour and clothing and into his flesh. Only steps away from Scourge, the Jedi falls to his hands and knees, and then collapses into unconsciousness. His lightsaber clatters down beside him as the sound of the tempest sucks away into ringing silence.

The Emperor’s Wrath at last rises to his feet, straightening the fall of his cape as behind him, his master surveys the singed bodies strewn across the smoking floor.

“You are mine.” 

The Emperor’s voice echoes through the sanctum as it wraps itself around the fallen Jedi, seeping into the cracks of their scattered minds. Even Scourge feels the edges of his awareness crumbling, caught in the oppressive cloud of his master’s will.

”You exist only at my command. You are my instruments - servants, slaves, weapons - and you will obey.”

The last word reverberates through the chamber. Scourge has to let the weight of it pass before he can move to retrieve his lightsaber; then he strides back to face the throne, and bows deeply. Already the movement barely aggravates his injury; in a way, he wishes the pain had lasted longer.

“What is your will, my lord Emperor?”

“Take them. Train them. Turn them.” The Emperor’s reply holds such deliberate malice as he considers the Jedi. “Scatter them across my Empire and let them do my bidding.” 

Scourge flicks a glance over his shoulder, at the inert form of Caspian Serapis. “And what of this particular Jedi?” he asks, and though he cannot feel the shame of defeat at the hand of a near-novice, still he lets the thought of it rise to the surface of his mind, where his master can skim it away for examination.

The Emperor turns his attention back to Scourge.

“That one I give to you, my Wrath. See that he is broken beyond all salvation. Take the Jedi’s greatest hope, and turn him into the ultimate weapon of despair. He will be unleashed upon his own kind. And they will fall.”

Excellent. That will give Scourge the time he needs to truly test what the Force has sent him.

He bows again before his master, the very embodiment of a loyal, obedient servant.

“As you command, my lord Emperor.”

But the Emperor hasn’t finished with him.

“This is your second failure in recent months, Lord Scourge. First you return without the traitor Sajar, and now you allow yourself to be overcome by two mediocre Jedi.” The Emperor lifts his hand, and Scourge finds himself forced to his knees once more, like gravity is suddenly bearing down on him from above instead of dragging from below. A rough hiss slips from between his teeth. It feels as though every piece of his body is being slowly compressed inward, his muscles flattening, his bones cracking, his vital organs threatening to burst beneath the pressure.

“Perhaps you tire of your role, after all these centuries. Perhaps you need a reminder that you live only through my gift to you.”

With his forehead nearly touching the floor at his master’s feet, Scourge knows better than to speak. Protest, resistance - they will only bring a harsher punishment. He learned long ago that the only path forward, through this half-life beside the Emperor, is submission.

And so with the skill of long, bitter practice, he bites back his primal need to scream, as the Emperor brings him back to that day when a young Sith Lord became the Wrath, and Scourge’s blood turns to fire in his veins.

[hello-there]

Communities are a new way to connect with the people on Tumblr who care about the things you care about! Browse Communities to find the perfect one for your interests or create a new one and invite your friends and mutuals!

[hourglassstationacademy]

𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗟 𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

Name: Alioth Comet Starshine

𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿:  Genderfluid (accepts any pronouns but most go by He/they)

𝗔𝗴𝗲: ??? (as old as the world but says its 20)

𝗕𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆: ???

𝗦𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻: ???

𝗛𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁: 678 cm (usually adjusts it so he is only 198 cm to go to class)

𝗘𝘆𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗿: Blue Purple with Space shimmer

𝗛𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗿: Dark blue

Species: Celestial Dragon Deity (Part Alien blood as well)

Based on: Aurelion Sol from Lol, with influences of Wanderlust from Just dance

.

𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗙𝗙𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗦

𝗗𝗼𝗿𝗺: Legothŕylos @fullplaidponydreamer​

𝗦𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗹 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿: fourth year

C𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀: 4-C

𝗢𝗰𝗰𝘂𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: Deity, Student

𝗖𝗹𝘂𝗯: Dance Club

𝗕𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝗷𝗲𝗰𝘁: Dance

Homeland:  Space (lies that its Tarons parents space station however)

Sexuality: Androsexual (currently)

.

.

𝗙𝗨𝗡 𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗦:

𝗗𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱: Left

𝗙𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗱:  Macaroni , Chicken Nuggets, Astronaut food, Meteors

𝗟𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗱: bloody food, eggplants,

Likes: Dancing and inspiring others to dance, the planets and constellations, Lights, Disco music,

𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀: Beelby, Swans, his crown, Conflict between others, using him,

𝗛𝗼𝗯𝗯𝘆: practising any dance he can get his hands on, smithing, magic practise, Floating,

𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀: being cryptic about things, memorization,

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 and Backstory:

Alioth was born around the same day as Beelby but while Beelby got used to Hell, Alioth was raised a little spoiled and praised by his people... his mother an Alien godess he mainly lived with her in her palace while his dad was always on a mission but came back once in a while to teach him magic and much more... He was loved by many but always curious about the planets and especially that one with many species on it that always danced and had this joy of life.. even if that world had hurt... he wanted to see it closer... Eventually he was said to be crowned as the crown prince of the Celestial realm however... many didn't approve of hits naive brat taking the throne and so they used his curiousity by letting a swan princess curse his crown... since then he could never take it off yet was never worthy to get the throne... His mother still loved him so she granted at least his wish and let him travel the world...

Nowadays he arrived at HSA for two seperate reasons... one to learn as many dances as possible and find foot in the business... and secondly for revenge...Beelby, who was a student at his school he met Millenias ago... the Origin demon broke into the celestial realm in secret and stole one of his fathers horn disgracing the family even more than they already were... so he also came here to meet him again and either take that horn back or take something as precious to him.

Alioth seems friendly, approachable and Cheerfull but that is not really all he is... can be very serious and duty focused thanks to his status but also at times a little full of himself... he has quite the confidence in himself and his talents as well when it comes to talking to people like Beelby he likes to do it the passive aggresive way. He cherishes every bond he gets...

As he arrived in this world he was said to be a candidated to be arranged Marriage to Miss Gabrielle Ravenor but after fighting her he gave up on his home... he could have defeated her with ease but didn't cause he wanted her to be free and slowly realized Men fascinate him far more so he wouldn't be happy in a relationship with her. Since then they are close friends... as well as he helped many dragons in her kingdom with sicknesses as well as learned smithing from her. He also has rumors surrounding him that spending time with him causes good dreams.

May be a bit forward about approaching someone he has fallen for but he does try his best to not be forcefull.

Unique Magic:

Starstruck

With the touch of his hands you will get a constellation tattoo on your skin and he can force you to dance any dance on his command without ever having to learn it before hand... either you mimic his moves or he will think about how you dance with him and you follow it to a perfect degree.

Sprite by @/Silent-dragon

[otoripink]

OMGGG?? I DIDNT EVEN KNOW THIS WAS YOUR SIDE BLOG :0 silly!!! I mainly just came to ask if you have any light toned psds that I could use for practise with some of my requests? (nf! and ofc i'll credit!)

Ah sorry! Requests are mutuals only ^^

[momonyaro]

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better :)

Thank you for tagging me @universe-exhale úwù I love this shit!!!!!!!!

3 ships: Kazumaji (Yakuza), Krolock/Sarah/Alfred/the entire ensemble ... (TdV), Wrightworth [Narumitsu] (Ace Attorney)

Firs ever ship: Hmm the first thing from when i knew what shipping was should have to be Mew Ichigo/Kisshu (Tokyo Mew Mew), way back in 2008 úwù the good ol' days!

Last song: One Last Song - Lord of the Lost, I'm listening to it on repeat rn :)

Last movie: I can't remember lol.. I don't watch nearly enough movies, and when I do start one, lately I don't have the patience to sit through it xd

Currently reading: The Vampire Lestat - Anne Rice and Parasyte - Hitoshi Iwaaki

Currently watching: Youtube videos mostly, DancingBacons and Solo Solo Travel mainly úwù so relaxing! I've wanted to start watching some German series to practise the language some more than just listening to music or watch tanz lmao- but I haven't gotten around to it yet!

Currently consuming: Nothing! I'm reminising in the dinner I just had, my parents and I went out to eat at a Japanese restaurant, I had all my favourite little treats >:))

Currently craving: To go to a museum and just spent the whole day being amazed..

I'm also aking this "get to know" a little light, I guess, but do it if you feel like it <3 and know that I enjoy your pressence on my dash: @littlemouserat @cloudsoveravalir @mallowfluffy @chut-je-dors @anoett-dreamer @water-gazer @patricia-art-corner @mangledpuppet @curiousserpent and uhh just ignore if you already did this or anything ily

[clivemwilliams]

Tobago 2024

Sunday and Monday 28-29 April

You might be pleased to know that there are no references to birds in today’s blog – even we are a bit birded out. Suffice to say Judith has recorded 55 different species and I have taken well over 1000 photos !

Basically we’ve spent the past 2 days on the beach and pottering around the village of Castara. We’ve gone down to the beach before breakfast, enjoyed a nice dip and then back to our apartment for a light breakfast on the terrace overlooking the bay. After doing ourselves lunch we’ve then gone back to the beach for the afternoon and return to our apartment via a leisurely stroll back through the village.

On Sunday we were treated to an open air church service with hymn singing and preaching (both very enthusiastic) using very loud loudspeakers !

We experienced a terrific Caribbean sunset on Sunday and I managed to take a few photos but they don’t really do it justice.

This afternoon we went to the far end of the beach mainly to practise our snorkelling ahead of a snorkelling and birding trip on Wednesday to Little Tobago- a small island 1 mile off the coast with a shallow coral reef between. We’ve told the guide that we’re up for the snorkelling but we don’t want to be hopeless British losers at it ! We saw lots of fairly colourless fish today but Judith did see a stingray which was pretty exciting although I didn’t have the underwater camera ready in time to get a photo of it. Apparently they are fairly common in this bay so will try again over next few days; they are much preferable to bull sharks !

We also saw a red squirrel and some chickens on the beach - it’s that sort of place ! Oh, and a pelican but I promised not to mention anymore birds !

This morning we were entertained watching the local fishermen place a large net across the bay and then proceed to slowly pull the net in from the beach just using the ropes at each end of the net.

For those of you continuing to have concerns about Judith’s lack of food choice, I’m pleased to report that the restaurant attached to the apartments has saved the day by having one meat option available at each meal so we have been there a few times, as you can imagine !

Tomorrow we are planning on walking to a local waterfall and maybe more snorkelling practice ahead of the big day on Wednesday ! – when I’ll likely do another blog !

[hello-there]

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