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screampied · 6 months ago

Note

the thought of being fucked full-nelson style by sukuna while sitting on his throne won’t leave my mind

☆ ໋𓈒 tags. fem! reader, tf! sukuna, full nelson, size diff + size kinks, dirty talk, unprotected, brēeding, mentions of tummy bulge, ( little one, princess, brat . . ) mdni.

“hn. how pathetic,” the notorious demon snickers, baring a single fang as he watches the tip of his swollen angered cock disappear between your runny folds. your thighs shook instantaneously, and he’s lazily slouched back on his throne. a bawled up fist rests near his chin as he watches you with crimson eyes filled of nothing but pure amusement and a mocking head tilt. “don’t make me fall asleep, now. you said you could take me ‘n you’re not even halfway in, princess.”

you bite the inside of your cheek at his playful taunts — so annoying, he just wouldn’t shut up. “ ‘m trying, ‘kuna,” you moan, the stretch of his throbbing cockhead making the center of your mouth salivate. the sleeves of his kimono were slightly ruffled from you tugging on it. he’s got the smuggest grin as your legs part themselves just a bit further. seconds go by before you sigh, slumping into his chest. “help me, ‘kuna. please.”

“so easy to give up,” he mumbles in a gruff tone, bringing one of his big hands to pat the back of your head. you lean into his touch, and as you’re so close to him—you’re engulfed by his natural loud musk. “finee,” he sharply adds, and you gasp once he turns your body around, positioning you in such a way. you’re still placed on his lap but he grabs both of your legs, pulling them upward. “i’ll help you, little one. now now, lie back ‘n allow your king to give you a nice ‘lil stretch.”

your mouth slightly drops, dramatically going agape once he restrains you in a safe manner . .

sukuna’s got you taking his heavy cock again, but this time, you feel the stretch reach everywhere.

he’s got two pairs of arms locking behind your head with the other two clinging onto your thighs. a few sharp nails dig into the fat of your skin, leaving a plethora of marks he’d want to kiss over later. “fuck,” he grunts, hearing the squelching whimpers of your sweet cunt. everything’s slow, it’s as if time stood still as you’re trying to take him. you swallow a lump near the back of your throat that seemed to be growing every second.

the demon sat underneath you was big—he liked pounding you ruthlessly in full nelson because more than anything, he loved seeing you stretched.

the dumb sounds you make, it rings through his ears. speaking of, he gets up close to the lobe of your ear, flicking his forked tongue against it. “s- sukuna,” you whine, and with a ‘pop’, you felt your ass grind right into his lap. already, he’s molding a tiny tummy bulge near the center of your stomach. he’s so deep, once he starts, it’s practically over for your limps. “ngh, ‘s big, ‘kuna.”

“keh, obviously. the perfect size for you, princess.” he groans, tightening his grip just a tad bit against your legs. a hand of his feels the bulging spot near the center of your tummy before he hums. “ ‘kuna’s riiiight fuckin’ here, brat.”

he’s got you in a secure lock. his arms felt warm, and through your blurred peripherals, you glance at his ancient cursed markings that paint all across his bulky, burly arms.

so big, you’re already drooling as you’re bouncing on his cock. the crushing compressing weight of both bodies—mainly yours, causes his throne to be more rickety. it’s whining and groaning out creaks each time your speed against his lap increases, and he’s practically treating you like a doll.

a porcelain doll he didn’t want to ever break.

at least, not yet. .

“fuckin’ nasty girl,” he huffs, one of his hands going toward your face. he smears a palm over your mouth, your pouring drool that streams from the corners of your lips landing on his hand. he’s got a wolfish smile, hearing your babbled whimpers get louder as he’s stretching you silly. “i spoil you too much, spoil this sloppy pussy too much too, hmph.”

“mmph. suku— sukunaaa,” your sweet stammers of moans grew more bouncy as you bucked your swiveling hips further onto him. it didn’t take long before your raw vocal chords start to die out, growing strained and weak. you dramatically elongate each syllable of his name that streams from your lips as his cock plummets into you full. the sweltering hot crown of his shaft kisses all around your gummy walls, reaching so deep that you’re practically yanking roughly on the edges of his silky kimono sleeve. “fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum, ‘kuna.”

a throaty chortle from sukuna makes your cunt twitch as he holds you upright — so cute, he’s so much bigger than you, merely dislocating your limbs with a few sets of his arms. he barely had to do anything and yet you were easily overpowered by his body. your mouth hangs open as he’s shoving such thick inches in and out of your slobbering pussy, coating his entire base with your cascading slick. “are you asking or are you just sayin’ y’r gonna cum, little one?”

the insides of your thighs were so sticky, already sticking together and you’re a babbling mess as his dick continues to make you stupid. “lemme cum please, ‘kuna. please, pretty please. stuffin’ me so full, fuuuck.”

“there’s those sweet manners,” he purrs in a husky tone—the back of his lips meets near your ear, giving it a soft peck as you continue to move. you feel a swarm of fluttering butterflies circle inside the pits of your tummy, but you knew that could also be the bulge of his cock constantly rutting deep into your clingy insides. “ah,” he snarls, his tip thrashing vigorously against a certain spongey spot. right there, you let off a sweet squeal as his sloppy thrusts start to punctuate again and again until your candied coated moans reverberate throughout the walls of his regal royal chambers. “fuckin’ shit,” he hisses, and as your hips continue to slam onto him, he’s realizing he’s coming close too.

your eyes were droopy as he’s still got you in such a lewd position — he’s so strong, proudly holding you up to where you’re just a doll bouncing on his cock. his throne remains wailing out moans of its own from the heavy masses of weight jerking on top of the furniture. he’s balls deep into your core, feeling how sweetly your cunt’s being massaged.

“c’mon, messy girl. give it t’ me then. make a sloppy mess on your king, princess,” and his sable-darkened nails gently scrape against your skin. it’s almost soothing, he’s got you in a tight safe chokehold hold and you’re basically chasing your own breath.

you whimper as his warm breaths tickle such a carnal itch in your brain. sukuna allows for you to bounce on him quicker and harder until eventually, your release came. your sweet little cry of finishing rapture was adorable—he hears how even after you’ve creamed all down his cock from the salacious skin slapping, your irregular breaths never falter. “ugh,” he grumbles, feeling his own release eventually match up as if it was right on cue. he bellows out a rough animalistic growl before he’s cummimg, shooting blanks. satiny ropes shoot into you, its balmy hot temperature making you gasp. it’s thick and slimy, pumping you full to the brim so good that it even leaks out.

he loosens his taut grip on your numb legs that were positioned in the air before he sighs—it’s still coming out, his angered tip was tucked inside your pussy as you’re just defeated, collapsed back on his chest.

“good girl,” he pants, hearing the erotic sloshes of his own cum continuing to spurt and ooze deep inside you. now, you’re an entire puddled mess. he creeps a broad open hand between your thighs, dragging a thumb down your slobbering slick to gather up a drop of his filthy dribbling cum. “my, my, look at thaaat,” he coos lowly, and you moan once he resumes, dragging a plump thumb down your sloppy cunt. a bit of his own mess soaks onto his finger before he brings it up to his mouth, lapping at your fresh juices, getting a taste himself. “mhm, she’s as sweetest as she’s ever been,” and you let off a gasp once another one of his palms rudely spanks your wet cunt.

“messy baby.”

#★vegasbaby.#sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #female reader

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cryobabiess · 2 months ago

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girldad!geta pleeease!

Filia Divina

Pairing: Emperor Geta x Wife!reader

Tags: childbirth, pregnancy, miscarriage mentioned, implied infanticide, soft!geta (if you squint), historically accurate practices, NOT BETA READ SO IF YOU SEE SOMETHING WONKY NO YOU DIDN’T, good ole fashioned misogyny

AN: Tollere Liberos is in reference to an ancient Roman tradition where a father decides whether or not to accept a newborn as their child. Rejected children were abandoned via ‘expositus’ (aka dead ass just leaving a baby out in the wilderness). So basically girldad!geta but historically accurate lol. Enjoy!

It had only been an hour since you birthed her—a sweet little creature with curls the color of honey and supple skin like the flesh of a ripe plum. With a mighty wail fit to be heard across an empire, she came into the world. Your goddess, Juno, generously granted her the health and strength you prayed for. You rejoiced, though your joy was not shared.

The midwives cleaned your daughter in grave silence, save for the whispers of the politic-men gathered to witness the birth of Rome’s divine son. They huddled together in the far corner of the chamber as your girl laid against her mother’s chest for the first time.

“It cannot be true—look again!” Geta frantically commands the weary doctor. He paces across the marble floor in a state of distress. A litany of expressions troubles his face; disbelief, panic, betrayal.

“My lord, it is not what was desired, but I assure you—the child is female. You have my greatest sorrows.” The doctor mournfully bows his head, knowing better than to look the short tempered prince in the eye.

Geta was persistent, diligently sewing his seed in your womb since your holy union. You passed two of his children as blood, and he held you as you suffered through the pain. He watched your body grow when his efforts succeeded, massaged your taut skin with olive oil, and fed you bread soaked in sweet wine when you felt ill. He even kneeled at Jupiter’s alter to call for the safe delivery of his first son and the health of his wife—All these precautions only to be cruelly slighted.

“The gods have punished me, yet I’ve done nothing but bend to their will.” Geta holds his head in disbelief, his devastation made evident by a deep scowl.

Senator Gracchus tentatively approaches your distraught husband, resting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

“My lord, we must atone for our offenses, whatever they may be. It is a grave misfortune indeed, but your bride—“

Rage ignites across Geta’s face as he pulls away from his constituent’s touch.

“Speak tactfully of your empress if you wish to keep your tongue, Senator.” He seethes through a tight jaw. Gracchus relents, his tone softening considerably. He continues slowly and with caution.

“Two winters have passed since your union, and she has yet to bring forth an heir of Rome. Her body has proved inhospitable. The gods have sent a message, and it would be foolish to turn a cheek—you must heed this omen! ”

Geta takes a moment, carefully considering the senator’s plea for reason. He looks back to you, Obsidian eyes gazing down at the linen sheet that obscures your sleeping child.

“I am a conduit of their will. Tollere Liberos will prevail and the gods will decide through me.” Geta turns to you fully. Your heart becomes heavy in your chest as you search your husband’s face for tenderness, but see nothing but solid stone.

In your dreams, you imagined the day Geta approached his first heir as sweet—that he might kiss your reddened cheeks and proudly claim his child. Never did you think the sight of him would cause you to tighten your grip and cower away. He looms over the bed where you lay, exhausted and perspiring, like a holy monument.

“Show me the child.”

“My love, I beg you—“

“Your emperor commands it.” Geta callously interrupts.

You unwrap your daughter in your arms, trembling hands moving as gingerly as possible. She shifts in her sleep, curling her precious limbs toward her delicate body, but does not wake. Geta’s eyes widen at the sight of her.

“So it is true. My faithful wife’s womb has betrayed me.” His gaze softens. Something stirs behind it, but you are not sure what.

“If you wish to return her life, then be merciful and do the same with mine.” Your heart twists and aches, your love for your emperor becoming a knife in your rib.

To your shock, Geta reaches out to his daughter, takes her tiny fist in his palm, and runs a thumb over her blushing knuckles. She wraps her hand around her father’s finger with a mighty yawn.

You have seldom seen your restless husband become so still.

“She bears your resemblance.” Geta’s voice is but a whisper. His gaze doesn’t stray from her. It appears his heart aches the same as yours.

“And a head of golden hair.” You can only offer an exhausted smile.

Geta takes his daughter into his arms for the first time.

“The gods have spoken!” He declares to the small gathering of senators. Your emperor raises his girl above the laurels atop his head. Some look on with horror, and others with pride.

“She will have my name! It is done.”

As your daughter’s first weeks pass, Geta’s tenderness only grows. In the lavender hours of dawn, you wake to find him cradling her in the crook of his arm. He speaks to her softly.

“Poor girl, you have wounded your father’s pride. My, what tragedy.”

You smile at the sound of her gentle crooning as your husband assuages her back to sleep.

“A son would belong to Rome—but you, dear Septima, will belong to me.”

#emperor geta x reader #gladiator ii #request #in which geta briefly considers infanticide lol

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speed-world · 24 days ago

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Hello!! If it's not too much to ask, can you write a cookie run kingdom au where y/n is a traveler? I just think that's the most logical way to somehow get them involved into stories and meet different cookies altogether. Maybe a few scenarios in which involve their encounters with the ancients before the main plot of crk?

A cookie stood with his sheep, observing the lands before him in silence as the winds howled and blew beside him. He was making his last few preparations before his journey, but as he turned around, he saw an unfamiliar face that appeared to be in awe of the lands much like he was…

“Oh, pardon me, but I’ve never seen a cookie like you before. You look so incredibly well and unbothered, may I ask if you have a secret to keeping your dough so healthy?”

“Oh, me? Hehe, I don’t think I have any ‘secret’ to my healthy or anything like that. I’m simply a traveler wandering Earthbread.”

“Really? So am I! I’ll be taking a pilgrimage to the Sugar-Free Road, and complete its 12 trials. What about you, where are you headed?”

“Wherever the earth and winds take me, I suppose. I don’t have a destination in mind, per se, but I’m so interested in exploring the marvelous depths across every corner of Earthbread! But, if you don’t mind me asking, what makes you want to venture to the Sugar-Free Road alone? Surely those trials can’t be the only reason.”

“You sound like you’ve been there before, is there something I should be aware of before I go?”

“Yeah, maybe don’t go by yourself. It’s a treacherous path that’ll leave you wishing you never went. I myself turned back when I was there because of how worn out I was. I would want to go back sometime, especially since I feel more accustomed to traveling to do so, but doing so alone is not something I’m doing again.”

“I see…well to answer your question, I strive to find the truth as to why cookies - those crumbling, incomplete, and not-so-sweet - all must suffer so. I wish for all beings of dough to be happy, and that is I will accept those trials. Hopefully I’ll find the answers I’m looking for at the end of the path.”

“That’s��that’s actually really nice! I respect that a lot, and I kinda feel the same way; wanting everyone to not suffer. But you won’t do well by yourself, would you mind if I tag along?”

“Really? Are you sure my goals won’t get in the way of yours?”

“Nah, of course not! You get to complete the trials and, hopefully, find your answers, while I get to see everything of the Sugar-Free Road and document it! Plus, I get to make a new friend too!”

“New friend..? Ahaha, I’m honored to call you friend too! My name is Pure Vanilla Cookie, and you are?”

“Y/N Cookie, a pleasure to meet ya Pure Vanilla Cookie!”

“Likewise, Y/N Cookie. I’m glad we’ll take this journey together!”

————————————————————————

The screeching roar of a dragon fills the air as it gradually got more distant. The dragon’s pursuer was aggravated, but still determined…

“Huff…huff…darn that dragon getting away, again!! I think I’m starting to loose count, is this the 80th time? No, it can’t have been that much…..argghh—! No matter, I’ll keep hunting it down and—!”

The bushes ahead of Hollyberry Cookie rustle as an astonished cookie stepped out, and looked to the sky where the dragon flew off. They were completely in awe and wanted to get a better look at the majestic creature.

“Woah!! Was that a dragon just now? I’ve seen glimpses of them on my travels, but that one was so close!! This could be a chance to really meet a dragon, maybe even feel its scales!! Hahaha, I gotta go now and—“

“Hey, hold it right there!”

“Huh? Oh, hey there! Are you after the dragon too?”

“That’s one way to put it; I’m hunting that dragon. I need to defeat it for the trouble its caused the Hollyberry Kingdom!”

“Oh my, I had no idea. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s quite alright, that dragon won’t escape me so easily! But, what brings you out here? And why do you want to see that dragon?”

“Ah, well I’m a traveler, you see? I want to explore every neat corner of Earthbread and all the specialties in between!”

“Really now? Interesting, it’s been awhile since I’ve met such an adventurous cookie like myself! I’m Hollyberry Cookie, pleased to meet you friend!”

“Y/N Cookie, the pleasure is all mine Hollyberry Cookie!”

“Well Y/N Cookie, what do you say we go hunting this dragon together? It’s always more fun to travel with a partner, and I’ll promise you to see every bit of the dragon up close!”

“For real?! Awesome!! Ohohoho, this is gonna be fun, I can’t wait to go!”

“Why don’t you tell me about your travels on the way? I’ll, of course, share you many of my own! I’ll even treat you to the finest berry juice my kingdom has to offer when it’s over!”

“Why thank you! I’ve never had berry juice from the Hollyberry Kingdom before, I can’t wait!!”

“It will be the finest you’ve ever had, you wouldn’t want any other! This is already becoming a fine adventure, hahaha!!”

————————————————————————

Black lightning and dark clouds...What's next, a blizzard that freezes your very breath? The scale of the anomalies is growing. The Cookies in the Frozen Snowfield are perishing one by one. While it seems logical for any cookie to avoid venturing out to such an extreme treacherous environment, two cookies were individually hiking up anyways. Although for their own reasons, their ambitions may align with one another’s….

“Hmm? Oh hey there, I wasn’t expecting any company here!”

“Neither was I…are you a cookie from one of villages affected by the blizzards?”

“Me? Oh no, I’m just a traveler passing by to witness something spectacular!! Here, listen closely—“

“Grrrrrr…..”

“Hhrrrrrraaaaaahh…..”

“The growls of not one, but two dragons-in one place!! I wonder what it is here that could’ve brought them here; ooohh I’ve got to see them up close!”

“You’re here for…sightseeing dragons? How strange.”

“You sound disappointed, is everything alright bud?”

“No. I am here to know more of the weather anomalies occurring through this continent. This harsh weather has caused cookies to suffer and crumble, and I refuse to let it endure another minute.”

“Oh my, I had no idea that was happening. I’m so sorry…”

“Pick your head up, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“Ah, r-right. *ahem*…let me help you.”

“What? No, I’m afraid I can’t. These cookies have suffered for too long, and I can’t risk another getting in the way and—“

“I promise I won’t get in your way. I’ll help aid those cookies with you; I have plenty of supplies to offer some kind of help, be it food or water or anything in between.”

“Hmm…very well then. I believe our interests might be more in common than I realize. Let’s not waste any more time and be on our way.”

“Of course! I’m Y/N Cookie, by the way, pleasure to meet you sir.”

“Dark Cacao Cookie, don’t mention it. Let us do our absolute best for the cookies!”

————————————————————————

Under the intense, near-intolerable heat of the desert sun, two cookies traverse the sands bearing wide smiles of determination. Both hold their own greedy ambitions, yet aren’t driven apart by each other’s desires.

“Hah, you know, I’m still amazed as to why you’re traveling with me to the old ruins. I was wandering the desert to find this marvelous treasure, but you just want to look at them, document them, and that’s it! Why go through such risks if all you want to do is go sight seeing?”

“Hehe, well I guess you could say that’s the treasure I’m hunting for. To see all the wonders of Earthbread, its beauties in its dangers, the uniqueness of every continent, I want to capture all of it and learn everything about it! Plus, it’s super fun to meet all kinds of desserts along the way, especially one as dynamic as you!”

“So interesting, you almost make me want to share the treasure I find with you; almost, of course.”

“I don’t blame you, heh. You wandered all this way for it, it’s only fair that it all belongs to you.”

“Right? I would’ve heard if someone on Earthbread had laid their hands on it first. But then again…I want to show my gratitude for your help. This journey would’ve been boring and perhaps fruitless if not for you; what is your name?”

“Y/N Cookie, a pleasure!”

“Y/N Cookie, I am Golden Cheese Cookie. I shall never forget all you’ve done for me! Your greed for the world is something to admire for eons; nearly as great as my greed for my treasure. You and I together shall be legendary!”

————————————————————————

Somewhere, in a secluded area relatively distant from the nearest cookie civilization, a lone cookie was weeping as she was suffering from a nightmare. A passerby cookie heard her cries, and wanted to know what troubled her so…

“E-Excuse me, hello? Are you okay ma’am?”

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I… Oh…it was that same dream again. I’m sorry, I didn’t know another cookie was here…”

“No no, it’s alright, you didn’t bother me. I was just traveling by, venturing out to find some incredible things about Earthbread!”

“You were…traveling? Just freely and…eagerly going about across Earthbread alone? …..why?”

“Ehehe, I suppose why not? There’s so many incredible marvels about this world that I wanna see and experience for myself! There’s just so many things and secrets that I want to know about, how could I not be eager to see it all, ahaha!”

“….s-so carefree and curious…they’re just—“

“Hmm, you say something?”

“N-no, I was just muttering to myself…”

“….Hey, you hungry?”

“What? How’d you…—“

“You have crumbs falling from your hands, how long have you been without something to eat?”

“I…I do not know. I suppose it’s been a while since I’ve eaten something. Maybe I’m getting too lost in my thoughts…”

You pulled out a lot of food from your bags and laid it out in front of the cookie.

“T-that’s so much food! Shouldn’t you keep some for yourself if you’re traveling?”

“I got plenty more, don’t you worry. But if you were here resting from traveling, then it looks like you weren’t fully prepared. Is there any reason why you’re traveling out here?”

“Yes…I want to know the truth.”

“….the truth about, what?”

“Why were we, the cookies, created? Why were we brought into this world? Why were we created so small and fragile? If only all cookies were born strong, unbreakable. If only then…I…”

“Shhh, calm down, alright? Take a break for now, eat up. You can tell me more when we’re back out on the road.”

“I-we?! What do you mean, ‘we?’ I’d get in your way with whatever it is you’re after.”

“I’m not after anything in particular, remember? I wanna traverse and see all of Earthbread, and from the sounds of what answers you’re after, it seems like we may be going down similar paths.”

“….Perhaps you’re right. Okay then, I’ll go with you, to find the answers I’m seeking. ��Who are you, exactly…?”

“I’m Y/N Cookie!”

“I’m White Lily Cookie. I’m…thankful for you, Y/N Cookie. I never thought I’d have anyone to help me with this, I figured I’d just burden someone else with my struggles…”

“Don’t mention it, I’m perfectly fine with it! No one should really be alone for a long journey; especially for the one you want to take. I’m more than happy to go with you, White Lily Cookie.”

“Thank you, Y/N Cookie…I will never forget your kindness.”

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cian-meimei · 8 days ago

Text

Commander Xia.

Pairing: Caleb (Xia Yizhou) x Reader

Tags: ancient times, duke's daughter x commander of the imperial guards, ancient arrange marriage, secret identity, love at first sight, childhood friends to lovers to stangers to husband-wife, Li Shen (Zayne) x reader if you squint.

Word count: 3k words

wordbank: commander of imperial guards = leader of the guards protecting the emperor, the three bows = done during wedding ceremony for filial piety etc, Imperial Medical Bureau = the one that handles the matters regarding health, chinese medicine, acupuncture etc of the imperial family, gege = older brother, meimei = lil sis

NOT PROOF-READ OR EDITED.

divider credits to @/thecutestgrotto

You are the Duke’s only offspring, meant to inherit your father’s mantle and be a duchess of your own right. You are an esteemed noble lady with extraordinary features and admirable skills, with many people vying for your hand in marriage. With your status and qualifications, it wouldn’t be a surprise if the Emperor decreed your marriage with any of the Prince as the Princess Consort. In fact, it was the topic of every gossips in the Capital. Why haven’t the Emperor decreed your marriage with a Prince yet? It was no secret that the Emperor covets your father’s power, and wants nothing but to control your family. For this to happen, he could simply marry you off to one of his sons.

Everyone thought the Emperor gave up, so they dared to dream. Every bachelor dreams for a chance with you, but not everyone fancy you for you. What they have been aiming for is the power in your name, the influence of your father’s Dukedom.

Even as a child you know this, and you can easily discern anyone with the same intentions. You also knew why the Emperor chose not to betroth you with any of his sons.

It’s because the Emperor is a coward. He didn’t dare marry you off to one of his sons, because it means that the Dukedom would be closer to the throne and that son to take advantage of your power to go against him. He’s afraid that he won’t be able to control his wayward sons and allow you and your family to gain even more foothold in the Capital. So everything’s in stalemate, with the Duke and the Emperor playing a chess game under false pretenses.

You hated being a part of this chess game, so you have to do something to gain the upper hand. “Jiang Nan (Tara).” You called gently, exiting your chambers with a determined expression. Within a second, Jiang Nan arrived in front to you, with hand warmer in hand. She already knew of your plans today, but didn’t expect it to be at this moment so she could only grab the hand warmer and nothing else.

“My lady, we should take this. It might be cold outside in this weather. Do you need other things to bring?”

You hummed and gave her your jade pendant. “Bring some gold ingot with you. We shall depart within a stick of incense.”

Jiang Nan nodded like a chicken pecking at rice before scurrying over to the treasury. Within half of incense, she came back holding an inconspicuous pouch. “Let’s go, my lady.”

Jiang Nan has been your companion since you were a child. She’s your reading companion, and the third daughter of a lower noble. Since then, she has been serving you as your personal companion, taking care of your daily needs. You know where her and her family’s loyalty lie, so you trust her.

When you arrived at the agreed meeting place, the person you are meeting was already there, leisurely sipping tea as he gazed outside, unfazed by the cold weather. When he saw you and Jiang Nan enter the room, he stood up and gave you his salute.

“Grand Physician Li.”

“A pleasure to see you, Esteemed Noble Lady.”

Li Shen (Zayne), your childhood friend, and now the head of the Imperial Medical Bureau. All these years you have been friends with him, raising eyebrows of the masses due to the closeness of your relationship to each other. Some malicious enough to make assumptions that there’s more than friendship between the two of you. Both of you really didn’t care about some petty rumors and let it go. Aside from being friends, you have been in contact with him to gather intel about the Emperor, your meetings are under the guise of checking for your health.

Pouring you tea, Li Shen cleared his throat and put a talisman inside the room, isolating whatever conversation that will unfold in this room from anyone who dare to eavesdrop outside. Once the talisman became effective, your tense back relaxes and Li Shen’s stoic face softened.

“How have you been, meimei? Anything wrong with your health?” Gone was the stiffness in his voice, replaced with fond familiarity.

With a smile, you waved your hand. “I’m fine. Anything in your end, perhaps?”

“Straightforward as ever, I see.” Li Shen smiled, not offended at all. Setting down his cup, he began to recount the information he had gathered with serious face. As he slowly revealed everything, your smile slowly fell off and was replaced with a frown.

“Simply speaking, there’s a change in power inside the Capital, meimei. I don’t know the specifics, but it might have to do with the elusive Commander of the Imperial Guards, Xia Yizhou.”

“Xia Yizhou…” You whispered the name in daze, feeling a spark of familiarity inside you but simply cannot name it. Li Shen hummed, continuing with his revealation.

“The Emperor hasn’t been in good health recently. Trusted and even lower ministers come and go in his chambers. It isn’t hard to guess that he’s about to stir a storm in the Capital. I advice you to be alert, because this might be about your family.”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. “Thank you for the warning, Shen Ge. You as well, please do not let the Emperor doubt you. I don’t to get you in trouble for helping me.”

Li Shen gave you a small but reassuring smile. “Even if the Emperor doubts me, he cannot replace me easily. I’m the only Physician he can trust in the Capital. Removing me in the game would only be a death warrant to him. As for you getting me in trouble..” His voice trailed as he looked at the snowy scenery outside. “Take it as me repaying the Duke’s kindness all these years. After all, I wouldn’t be in this position without you and the Duke’s help.”

Li Shen came from a commoner’s family. He and along with another boy, were victims of the snow disaster in an obscure town many many years ago. You and your father happened to see the two boys in the brink of death at the side of the road and helped them. Your father might be prideful but he’s not unkind. When he reported it to the Emperor and the Emperor did nothing about it, he took the matters into his own hands and buried the victims, including Li Shen’s deceased parents. In the process, you got close with the two boys. You begged your father to help them, so the Duke then sent the two boys to a humble house, giving them a fresh start. But only Li Shen remained. As for the other boy…

“Now for the other matter,” Li Shen’s voice brought you out of your memories. You perked up.

“The investigation I did finally bore some fruit. It seems that our childhood friend, xiaozhou…never left the capital. Meimei…he’s always been here in the Capital.”

You have been in dazed the moment you left the restaurant, Li Shen’s words kept echoing in your mind.

Xiao Zhou, the other boy your father saved along with Li Shen, many many years ago. In fact, you and Li Shen wasn’t the closest back then. Li Shen is a quiet child who never smiles and often prefer reading medical books than to play with you. Xiao Zhou on the other hand, was a loud and cheerful little fellow. You and him has been the closest, he was like a brother you never had, Thought you a lot of things as a kid, even climbing a tree or catching a fish, things that a lady of your station should not do. Because of that, your father often scolds him. It was also because you almost died due to an allergy caused by eating a fruit given to you by Xiao Zhou that your father had decided to send the two boys out of the Duke Estate into the house of a trusted right handman of his.

You cried the whole night, begging your father to take them back, but your father only said. “Let them prove their worth, baobei. You’re a woman of power. You do not chase men. Instead, let them prove they’re worthy of you.”

You didn’t understand it back then, and only thought your father is punishing you for befriending someone of unequal status. You felt wronged, but grew to accept this arrangement as Xiao Zhou would still write to you constantly, and Li Shen too, sometimes when he’s not so busy studying medicinal herbs. It remained like that for years, until Xiao Zhou suddenly stopped writing to you, giving you his final letter dictating his farewell.

“This is my farewell to you as Xiao Zhou, for when the next time I come back to the Capital, I will be someone deserving of you.”

Li Shen told you that he had escaped in the middle of the night, never to be seen again even when the Duke ordered a search party. And even until now, you’re still searching for him.

“Meimei…he’s always been here in the Capital.”

You tried to control the tears that fell from your eyes, Jiang Nan scrumbling around trying to comfort you. But you became deaf to the noises everyone around you. The implication in Li Shen’s words became clear to you.

Xiao Zhou has always been here in the Capital all these time, but he refused to see and meet you, not even once. Why? Does he not want me anymore? Is he even planning to come back to me like he promised he would?

“My Lady, may…may I say something?” Jiang Nan mumbled, somewhat hesitant.

You simply nodded, not really in the mood to care what she would even say.

“I grew up with you, and also saw the bud between the you and Xiao Zhou grow. I believe he is sincere when he said he would come back for you. Perhaps…it’s simply not time yet, that’s why he’s still not coming back.”

“But I’ve been waiting for so long!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, spooking the horse and the horseman, making the carriage shake. You didn’t care about it as you cried and yelled. “That goddamn of a useless Emperor is already making moves to marry me off to deal with my father. How long do I have to wait?! Father is also starting to pressure me, I hate this!”

“MY LADY, THE STREETS HAVE EARS!”

In the next few weeks, a lot been happening inside the Capital, and like what Li Shen told you, it has something to do with the elusive Commander of the Imperial Guards. Some officials has recently been arrested, and what made you nervous was the fact that some of those officials are your fathers’ allies. It seems that the Emperor is truly getting desperate as his health continue to deteriorate. And it seems that the Commander is someone you couldn’t underestimate. This storm upon the Capital’s nobility is likely his doing. What fueled your suspicioun even more is that the Princes has also been making a move recently, with some showing good will to your father.

Due to this, your father has been extremely busy these days. In turn, you also became nervous and vigilant. You knew that to weaken your father, the Emperor would likely target you, the next in line to inherit the Dukedom. It’s either he’s going to marry you to some old geezer, or grant you a title of a princess and send you off to another country to become a hostage princess. Worse comes to worst, he might even kill you off. Which would be foolish, really. Your father might not be an Emperor but he had a lot of people on his side. Killing you off would only make the people’s opinion of his already destroyed reputation even worse. Even though people likes to gossip about you and your ‘unchaperoned’ meetings with Li Shen, the people generally has good opinions about you, that you knew so you aren’t worried for you life. It’s either you submit to the Emperor, or rebel against the Emperor.

Your father is a prideful man, but he won’t rebel and incriminate innocent lives in the process. It’s a tough decision, really.

So when your father was called to the palace, you couldn’t help the panic rising in your heart. You knew it’s gonna be you who’s going to take the fall, but if you don’t, then it might be your father’s head who’s going to be put on a spike the next day. You barely ate, waiting for the expected bad news. When your father returned from his private meeting with the Emperor, his face wasn’t good. The gloom in his face makes him a lot older than he actually is. You stood up, chest heaving. You braced for impact.

“Father…”

“Daughter,”

You stiffened at your father’s resigned but serious tone. He rarely calls you like this, as he often calls you baobei. You wrapped yourself with your arms, looking down. In this moment that felt like a death sentence, the name that kept popping in your mind is Xiao Zhou.

Xiao Zhou… Zhouzhou…

“The Emperor has decreed that you marry…the Commander of the Imperial Guards, Xia Yizhou.”

It felt like you plunged into an icy lake, your mind freezing as you blanked out. Commander? Marry?

“Anyone but him!” You screamed, “I’M NOT GOING TO MARRY SOME OLD GEEZER, FATHER!”

Fuck the Emperor! Fuck the Capital! If possible you will even lead the rebellion yourself!

Your father’s face twitched, complicated expressions flashing in his face before he walked closer to you and held your shoulders. “Listen to me, daughter. You know I’d rather lose my life than to use you as the sacrificial lamb for this family. In your mother’s death bed, she made me promise to not trade you with anything. Power, position, connection, anything. I promised her, and I wouldn’t break it even if she’s been gone for so long already. I was ready to defy the decree but…sigh, you’ll understand when you meet him. I’m sure you’ll understand.”

Confused by his roundabout words, you demanded for clearer answer. “What do you mean, father? I cannot understand!”

Looking at you straight in the eye with a helpless look, he smiled. “All I’m trying to say that this arrangement, is perhaps not bad at all. Whatever you decide, baobei, I will support you. But I advice you to save your decision until you meet him, alright? Also, he’s not old. Young, vigorous. Around Xiaoshen’s age.”

After saying those words, your father retired to his chambers, gloom still covering his whole figure, but his steps were lighter. His words left you confused and in shambles. In the end, you have no choice but to do your own digging about the matter the next morning.

Not even a week later, His Majesty the Emperor officially decreed your marriage to the Commander of the Imperial Guards, Xia Yizhou. It caused a huge commotion in the Capital. Some where unhappy, some happy. Many lamented your misfortune. But you were desperately searching for someone else, not even bothering to care about your future spouse. Li Shen had also asked to meet up, but you didn’t have time to meet up with him when you whisk back into the Duke’s Estate to prepare for your wedding.

In the end, all your efforts were futile. You were in daze the whole ceremony, and the fact that you have your veil all the time prevented you from seeing your groom’s face.

“Bow to Heaven and Earth!”

You mechanically bowed, countless thoughts running around in your mind but none of those thoughts seems clear enough. Your mind is wrapped in a fog.

“Bow to Parents!”

You bowed facing in front, knowing that your father is standing there, watching with a resigned look. You felt the man beside you do the same, chuckling when you almost stumbled due to the heavy garment you’re wearing. His hand held your arm to help you, but you pulled your arm out of his grip forcefully.

The nerve of this man!

“Now, bow to each other!”

When the ceremony ended and you were escorted inside the wedding chamber, you released a sigh of relief. In your hand was a blade given to you by Xiao Zhou before he left, for self-defense. If this Xia Yizhou really forced himself on you tonight, you will stab him in the heart, then stab yourself so your father wouldn’t be implicated.

Although Xiaozhou had abandoned you, you’re still not willing to let some other man into your life. Much less a manipulative man like Xia Yizhou who were able to manipulate even the Emperor. You can’t tolerate a man completely controlling you all your life.

As the sound of celebration outside slowly receded, footsteps were heard, heading to your direction. You clutched the blade in your hand tightly, nervousness peaking the moment Xia Yizhou entered the chamber.

“It’s funny to see you so guarded like this,” You heard him say, sounding amused and sad at the same time.

Snorting, you retorted. “We doesn’t seem to be that familiar, Commander Xia. As a matter of fact, I believe this is our first meeting.”

Xia Yizhou sat on the chair in front of you, and you can feel his intense gaze burning holes into your veil. You cannot see his features clearly, but your father was right. He looked younger than what you had expected him to be.

“Oh, really?” Xia Yizhou hummed and poured the alcohol into the cups, no longer caring about the ceremony or tradition. Turning back to you, he said. “You seem to be very against this marriage. May I have the reason why?”

“I believe the Commander himself knew the reason, but since you want me to say it, then I’ll say it. First, my heart is already taken. I have no desire to marry another person other than him. Second, you manipulated the Emperor to marry me, and for whatever reason you have, I simply do not care. Third, you threatened and coerced my father. Are these reasons enough, Commander?”

Xia Yizhou began to laugh, so much joy in his voice that it made you felt insulted. You gripped the blade in your hand so tight you thought maybe you should just stab him right now and end this farce once and for all. Kill this crazy freak and then kill yourself. But before you can make up your mind, Xia Yizhou pulled your veil off in one swift move, meeting your gaze with a fond expression.

“Looking good, pipsqueak.”

Looking at your frozen expression, his smile widened. “Why, don’t you recognize me? I didn’t make you wait long, did I?”

“Meimei, xiaozhou is back. Won’t you give him a welcome kiss?”

#caleb x reader #caleb x you #love and deepspace caleb #lads caleb #caleb lads #caleb love and deepspace #caleb x mc #zayne love and deepspace #zayne lads #lads zayne #caleb fic #drable

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that-weird-thing-in-the-woods · 2 months ago

Note

I have a soft spot for the Ares and Aphrodite one, sucker for mixing in mythology! I was wondering if at some point you'll write about one of them being summoned or something? I'd imagine Phantom wouldn't be thrilled if Danny just gets yoinked out of nowhere-

~{ I’m so glad that people like the things I make ☺️! And I hope you like this }~

•That One Time The Cult summoning Worked•

-•••••••••••••••••••••••-

Danny was in one of his gardens, one of Danny favorites (besides the Teal, Purple, Orange garden) This garden has many tress and rose bushes all around with a somewhat large stream going through it.

Danny was siting underneath one of the larger tress on top of blankets on the ground with Phantom’s head on his lap sleeping or well the best a ghost can get to sleep, he had a flower crown beside them head (Given to him by Eros and Harmonia) with the phantom always wears helmet was next to it

The sound of children playing tag or a similar game running through a mostly clear area in the garden that is easily seen from where Danny and phantom are and well the sound of Deimos and Phobos playing tag and Eros and Harmonia picking flowers to make more flower crowns for whatever they do with them

So Danny was pretty content at the moment as he just sits under the tree with his husband and the sound of his children play

That is until Danny felt a tug, a tug he was told about by Papa it’s when a cult actually made a working portal which are very rare when it comes to Ancients instead of demons which are much easier to summon and than Danny was pulled through the portal to the human realm but he told phantom about summonings so it will be fine

He told phantom…..right

-•••••••••••••••••••••••-

In a old warehouse on the outskirts of a large city is a group wearing black hooded robes in a circle with a person a child really tied up on a chair in the circle with the people around the circle chanting something in a old tongue and it gos quite for a few minutes that feel like hours.

And suddenly a large wind comes from the circle pushing a few of the cultists down to the cold hard floor of the warehouse and knocking back the others and knocking the child out ~{I repeat the child is out for the count}~

And in the circle is a flouting figure with long black hair that acts like it is in water, they wear a white dress like outfit with pearls and jewelry with some roses in their hair and a very uninterested look at the cultists

And the cultists who didn’t get the wind knocked out of them bows down and starts on their…whatever they were trying to do

“Your Greatness! We have called you to unleash war and chaos on this world and give us the power to make us the new leaders of this mortal plain and for this power we offer you this child for a new world to allow us to mold this world to our wishes!!” The probably head cultist as they were wearing a red robe and as they say this they move their arms in a way to bring the child to his attention

And now Danny understands what happens and it just makes him laughs after a few minutes Danny says in the way to make it sound more echoey “Oh you mortal who do you think I am?”

But before the cultists can answer a portal is ripped through the air and his husband comes through in his full war armor on and phantom immediately starts to cut down the cultists and with them out Danny flouts down to him and phantom immediately wraps his arms around Danny body holds him close for a few minutes

“My Love, Never do that again” phantom says out of breath “Darling” Danny says as he runs a hand through phantoms hair to calm him down and it works after a minute and as he calms down phantom starts to pull Danny to the portal but that’s when Danny remembers the child

Danny pulls himself off of phantom (who makes a very unhappy noise at the action) as floats over to the child and holds his face in his hands and it gives Danny a good view of the cuts and bruises on the child and with the way his arm is positioned it most definitely is dislocated and Danny gives the child a kiss on the fore head and waits until the most pronounced cut heals and let’s go of the child and back to his husband and lets himself be pulled into the portal with his husband

And they leave just in time to miss a man wearing a yellow bat on his chest

-•••••••••••••••••••••••-

~{ That was a long one! How dare you give me the brain cell and I hope you gremlins like this! And remember I love it when you guys ask me questions or anything really! Byeeee }~

And for what the characters are wearing in this!

•Danny•

•Phantom•

•Harmonia•

•Eros•

•Phobos & Deimos•

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alygator77 · 6 months ago

Text

✩ echoes of time, a love unspoken ✩

✩ pairing. satoru gojo x fem! reader

✩ summary. overwhelmed with grief and regret, you are desperate to reconnect with your closest friend and secret love, satoru gojo. when you discover an ancient relic that allows you to travel back in time, you are given the opportunity to finally share your true feelings

✩ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, spoilers for manga chapters 222 - 236, angst with comfort, friends to lovers, mostly smut (if you squint you can maybe find a hint of plot lol), dry humping, oral (f receiving), penetration, unprotected sex

✩ words: 4k

✩ a/n. writing short stuff like this makes me feel weird lol...but eh, felt like giving it a shot. i blame my whoremones. also if you know the artist let me know 🫶🏻 i thought it was so cute and found it on pinterest

"Satoru is dead," Shoko says, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking the words any louder would shatter the fragile reality you were clinging to.

“W-What?”

You blink at her, your mind struggling to process the information. Did you mishear?

The usually unflappable Shoko is visibly shaken, eyes red-rimmed and filled with sorrow.

"It was Sukuna," she continues, voice cracking. "The battle... it was too much, even for him."

Your heart felt like it had been ripped from your chest. Satoru Gojo, your closest friend and the man you had secretly loved for years, was gone. Memories of him flash before your eyes—his brilliant smile, his teasing remarks, the way he always seemed to be there when you needed him.

"No," you whisper, shaking your head in denial. "No, that can't be true."

Shoko reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," she murmurs, her own voice breaking. "I know how much he meant to you."

Her words break the dam inside you, and you feel the tears begin to stream down your cheeks.

Your knees buckle as you slump against the wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to the burning pain inside you. Your grief wraps around you like a vice, squeezing the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping.

“He was... he was everything," your voice trembles. "I never told him, Shoko. I never told him how I felt."

Shoko's hand squeezes yours, offering what little comfort she can.

"He knew, y/n. Satoru always knew. He was just waiting for you to be ready."

The thought brings a fresh wave of tears, carving a river of sorrow down your face.

How could he have known?

For years, you had hidden your feelings—you had been so careful, so afraid of ruining the friendship that meant the world to you.

The pain of your regret is a sharp, gnawing ache in your chest.

How many times had you almost told him? How many moments had you let slip by, too afraid of what his reaction might be?

And now, it was too late.

He was gone, and you were left with a heart full of unspoken words and unfulfilled dreams.

Days pass in a fog. You go through the motions, but the world has lost its meaning, its color, its light. Without Satoru, everything feels hollow.

Every corner of the school is a memory of him—a reminder of what you’ve lost you. The training grounds where you would spar with him, the library where you shared quiet moments of study, even the halls where his laughter once rang out, bright and infectious. Pieces of him are everywhere, each one a dagger to your heart.

The weight of your sorrow presses down on you, and you seek solace in the school's ancient library—hoping to find a distraction, something to numb the pain.

Drowning in grief, your eyes fall upon a dusty, leather-bound book on a nearby shelf. The title catches your eye: "Chronomancy: The Art of Time Travel."

What if you could go back?

What if you could see Satoru one last time—tell him what you've always been too afraid to say?

Or perhaps, change the future?

The thought is intoxicating, a flicker of hope in your darkness.

Desperation fuels you as you delve into the book, your hands trembling as you turn the pages. The instructions are complex, but your mind is sharp, honed by years of sorcery and study. The book speaks of an ancient relic, used in tandem with cursed energy.

You vaguely remember the old stories, the legends of such a relic hidden deep within the archives of Jujutsu High, said to be from a bygone era, a powerful artifact capable of altering the very fabric of time.

You know it's risky, dangerous even—time travel was absolutely forbidden, but the pain of your unspoken love and your need to see Satoru drives you forward.

With renewed determination, you make your way to the restricted archives, a labyrinth of ancient texts and forgotten artifacts deep within the bowels of Jujutsu High. The air grows cooler and musty as you descend, the weight of history pressing down on you.

Searching through the dimly lit corridors, your hands brush over countless relics and tomes, each one whispering secrets of a long-forgotten past. Finally, you find it—the relic described in the book. It’s a small, ornate device, deceptively simple in appearance but thrumming with a powerful, ancient energy.

Carefully, you take the relic and make your way back to your room. The instructions in the book replay in your mind as you prepare the ritual. Every detail has to be perfect—there’s no room for error.

As you channel your cursed energy into the device, chanting the incantation, the air around you starts to hum and vibrate. The relic glows brighter and brighter, the light almost blinding until suddenly, the world around you dissolves into a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations—you feel yourself being pulled through time.

When the light fades and the world comes back into focus, you find yourself standing in your bedroom yet again.

Did it work?

Without a thought, you instantly run, sprinting to Satoru’s home. The familiar path is a blur as you push your body to its limits, your heart pounding with a mixture of hope and desperation. You reach his door, breathless and trembling, and knock frantically.

The door swings open, and there he is, eyes lighten up with surprise and a hint of confusion as he sees you.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?"

Seeing him, standing there alive and well, almost undoes you. Your legs feel weak, and your eyes well up with tears of relief. Without any thought, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him towards you, crashing your lips against his with a desperate fervor.

His eyes widen in shock for a moment, but then he starts to melt into the kiss, returning your passion with his own. A soft moan escapes as his arms instinctively wrap around your waist, pulling you closer while his lips move hungrily against yours.

He guides you backwards into his house, closing the door behind you as he leans you against it, returning the kiss like a man starved of touch, of you, for years. His fingers grip the fabric of your clothes, pulling you closer.

You feel his heartbeat against your chest, a steady rhythm that grounds you in the reality of his presence. Every touch, every movement, is a reassurance that he's here, alive, and with you.

"I… missed you… so much," you mutter between breaths, a fragile confession between each fervent kiss.

Satoru’s grip tightens, his hands move to cradle your face, a touch gentle yet urgent. He lets out a soft hum and reluctantly pulls away from your lips, quirking a brow with a crooked grin.

"That was unexpected. Missed me? Y/n, we saw each other earlier today."

You shake your head, tears flowing freely now.

"No, you don't understand. I missed you... so much."

His grin fades as he notices the depth of your sorrow—concern etched in his features as his gaze softens, eyes searching you with confusion and worry. He gently wipes away a tear with his thumb.

"Why are you crying?"

With a shaky breath you struggle to find the words. The weight of everything you know and everything you've felt threatens to overwhelm you. But now, in this moment, you don't want to burden him with the truth.

Not yet.

Shaking your head, you manage to whisper—

"Later... please, just let me savor you right now."

Understanding dawns in his eyes, and he nods slowly, pulling you closer once more. His touch is tender, his embrace warm and reassuring. Leaning in, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then to each of your tear-streaked cheeks, as if trying to kiss away your pain.

"Okay," he murmurs against your skin. "I'm here. Not going anywhere."

Satoru's lips find yours again, and this time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate. He pours all his feelings into it—his reassurance, his comfort, his unspoken promises. As you lose yourself in the kiss, your hands move to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you pull him even closer, not wanting to let go.

The kiss deepens, a mingling of desperation and relief—his hands slide from your face to your waist, pulling you closer, before traveling down to your legs. With effortless strength, he lifts you off the ground, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.

For a moment, everything is perfect. The pain, the sorrow, the regret—all of it is swept away in the embrace of the man you love.

Between breaths, you manage to whisper again, "I missed you," each word filled with all the longing and desperation you've held inside.

Satoru responds not with words but with action. His kiss grows more fervent, his grip on you tightening as he presses your hips down on his. Your core is met with the growing pressure of his erection, causing you to mewl into his mouth.

He swallows your sounds as his kiss grows more intense, more needy, his tongue continuing to explore your mouth, tasting, claiming. You roll your hips against him, causing a low groan to rumble from his chest. His hips instinctively buckle from the friction and he presses you further against the door.

Breaking the kiss, his lips slowly make their way down your neck. He murmurs your name against your skin as his hips grind up against yours, sending a shiver through you as his fingers leave a trail of warmth in their wake, exploring every inch of your body.

With a gentle urgency, his hands find the buttons of your shirt, deft fingers undoing them one by one. As the fabric parts under his touch, his lips follow, leaving a trail of heated kisses down your exposed frame, tongue and teeth marking you with gentle nips.

As his lips find the curve of your breast, he gently bites down on it, causing a soft gasp to escape from your mouth.

“Satoru,” his name escapes you breathily as a ripple of pleasure courses through you, pooling straight between your legs.

Satoru's response is a low, guttural sound that vibrates against your skin. His hand comes up to cup your breast, his thumb stroking over your nipple as he continues to grind against you.

"I want you," he murmurs, voice hoarse with an aching need, coming out as both a statement and a request.

You meet his gaze, your breath hitching at the intensity of his desire.

"I'm yours to take," you whisper. "Take me, Satoru. I'm yours."

The words seem to ignite something deep within him—eyes darkening with a mixture of passion and determination. He immediately captures your lips in a fierce, demanding kiss.

With a swift and almost forceful movement, he lifts you from the door, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom, opening it with a nudge of his foot. His body presses against yours and he pins your wrists above your head, lowering you onto the mattress with eager vehemence.

The sensation of being held in place, of being at his mercy, sends a shiver of anticipation through you—feeling the heat between your legs intensify.

His eyes lock onto yours between loose tousles of his snowy hair, a silent question and an unspoken promise in their depths. The outline of his erection is evident through his taut clothing, a physical manifestation of his aching desire that burns for you. The heat of his body sears into you as he settles between your legs.

"I've wanted you for so long," he murmurs, voice low and ragged. "I can't get you out of my head."

He rocks his hips gently against yours as his hands move from your wrists, tracing a path down your arms. He reaches the hem of your shirt and guides it off your shoulders.

His hands then slide beneath your back, lifting you slightly as he unclasps your bra, discarding it to the side. The cool air against your bare skin is quickly replaced by the warmth of his mouth.

You gasp and writhe beneath him as his tongue grazes over your sensitive peak. Each flick of his tongue, each gentle suck, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you as his hips continue their slow, deliberate rhythm, rolling against your core and creating a delicious friction through the layers of clothing that still separate you.

You arch your back in pleasure, and with a groan, Satoru allows himself to sink deeper into the sensation of your breasts against his mouth. Every lick, every suck has him growing harder, his member straining against his pants.

“Fuck..” he mutters, pulling away from your chest just long enough to tear off his own shirt and discard it carelessly.

He leans down to lavish attention on your other breast, his free hand hooking into the waistband of your pants, slowly sliding them down your legs.

Once you remain only in your underwear, he abandons your breasts momentarily, trailing kisses down your stomach. As he reaches the apex of your thighs, he pauses, looking up at you with a gaze so intense it makes your breath hitch—a raw need that sends a shiver of excitement throughout you.

"Satoru," you moan, your voice a plea and a promise, urging him on. "Please."

He holds your gaze for a moment, searching for any hesitation. Finding none, he moves his hand across the fabric of your panties, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles around your clothed core. The friction is maddening, each touch making your body hum in pleasure.

"Tell me what you want," he whispers, voice a husky murmur.

"I want you," you reply, voice trembling with need. "I need you, Satoru."

His eyes darken further at your words, a low groan escaping his lips as he slides your panties down your legs, discarding them with the rest of your clothes. The sensation of the cool air against your exposed skin is quickly replaced by the heat of his breath as he leans in closer.

He takes a moment to savor the sight before him, your body laid out beneath him like an offering. Then, without warning, his tongue slips between your wet folds, lapping at your juices in long, languid strokes.

Satoru groans in approval of your taste, the sound vibrating against your heated flesh as he delves deeper. His hands part your thighs, holding you open as his tongue explores every crevice and fold, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. The intensity of his ministrations has your hands fisting the sheets, your back arching as you struggle to remain grounded under his relentless assault.

"Oh my god, Satoru..." you gasp, your voice a breathless plea as you arch into him deeper, relishing in every skillful flick of his tongue. Each stroke, each swirl, drives you closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak.

He works with a practiced precision, knowing exactly how to push you to the brink and pull you back, teasing you with the promise of release—alternating between gentle, teasing licks and deep, intense strokes.

Your hands move from the sheets to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you hold him close, your body trembling with force as you chase your release.

Feeling your impending orgasm building, Satoru pulls away from your quivering folds, causing you to groan. He locks eyes with you as he slowly drags his tongue from your swollen clit to your dripping entrance, a grin upon his lips.

He can see your resolve cracking, your composure slipping away as you teeter on the edge of bliss. He relishes watching your face contort with pleasure as you writhe beneath him, desperate to climax.

His movements are deliberate, torturous even, each lick and suck designed to prolong your pleasure. He can taste your arousal, your desperation, and it only fuels his own hunger.

His grip is firm and possessive as he tightens his hold on your thighs, devouring every part of your womanhood. The sound of his groans, the feeling of his tongue against you, it's all too much. The tension within you coils tighter and tighter.

You gasp as he slides two fingers inside you, feeling your walls clench around him as he curls them upwards, seeking that spot that would send you over the edge.

"Satoru, please..." you beg, your voice a desperate whisper. "I can't... I'm so close..."

He suddenly pulls away, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal, causing a whine to escape your lips. The sudden loss of contact leaving you aching.

He looks up at you, a wicked glint in his eyes as his lips curl into a grin.

"Not yet," he murmurs, voice low and seductive. "Want to feel you cum around me."

He moves back up your body, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. With a groan of pure need, his hands move with a purpose as he reaches for the button of his pants.

Rising to his knees, his eyes lock with yours as he sheds the last of his clothes, freeing his throbbing cock from the confines. It springs forth, thick and rigid, the tip glistening with precum.

You watch as he gives it a few slow strokes before settling back between your legs, his erection pressing against your core, tip brushing between the folds that are coated in your essence. The teasing sensation sends another wave of desire through you.

Slowly, deliberately, he pushes forward, sheathing himself inch by tantalizing inch inside you. A low growl escapes him as he feels your warmth enveloping him, your walls squeezing him delightfully. You gasp, your back arching, your body welcoming his with a need that borders on desperation.

He pauses once fully immersed, giving you a moment to adjust to his size as he revels in the feeling of your inner muscles clenching his length. Then, with a slow, sensual thrust, he begins to move, withdrawing until just the head remains before plunging back in to the hilt.

“Ah, fuck,” he breathes out, his hips snapping forward with more urgency, his head falling back as he loses himself in the sensation. The sight of him, eyes closed in bliss, his mouth slightly open as he gasps for breath, is almost enough to send you over the edge.

The pace he sets is slow and deliberate at first, each thrust deep and measured, allowing you to feel every inch of him. The friction, the heat, it all combines to create a symphony of pleasure that has you gasping and moaning his name. Your hands move to grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you cling to him, body moving in perfect harmony with his.

"Satoru," you moan, voice trembling with need and desire. "More, please..."

He responds with a growl, his movements becoming more urgent—thrusting harder and faster as his hands move to grip your hips, anchoring you to the bed as he fucks you with a raw, primal energy. The slap of skin against skin fills the room, punctuated by your moans and his growls of pleasure.

His name escapes your lips in breathless moans, each sound driving him further, pushing him to give you everything you need.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this, feel so good,” he groans, his voice rough with passion. “So tight, so perfect.”

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, tongue mimicking the rhythm of his thrusts. Your hands move from his shoulders to his back, your nails raking down his flesh as you cling to him.

Your body responds instinctively, your hips lifting to meet his, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. The deeper angle sends jolts of pleasure through you, each thrust hitting just the right spot. The heat between you builds, the pressure mounting with every movement.

"Satoru," you gasp, your voice a mix of pleasure and urgency. "Don't stop... please..."

His response is a deep, guttural moan, his hips snapping forward with renewed intensity. The sensation of him filling you so completely, kissing your cervix with each thrust—the way his body moves against yours, it's all-consuming. The pleasure builds to an almost unbearable peak, your body arching into his as you chase your release.

He feels the change in you, the way your body tightens around him, and it drives him to push harder, to give you everything. "Cum for me, princess," he murmurs against your lips, his voice a rough whisper. "I want to feel you cum around me."

His words create a tension within you, coiling tighter and tighter. With each powerful thrust, you feel yourself getting closer and closer, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak.

"Satoru... I... I'm going to..." you moan, your voice trembling with the force of your impending climax.

"That's it," he growls, his hips snapping forward in powerful thrusts. "Be a good girl and let go. Cum for me."

His command is the final push you need. With a cry of his name, you shatter, the pleasure washing over you in profound, overwhelming waves as your inner muscles clench around him, coating him with your essence.

Feeling your climax hit, Satoru's own control snaps like a brittle twig, sending him spiraling into blissful release. With a guttural roar, he spills himself deep inside you, hips jerking violently as his hot seed fills you, painting your insides white. He keeps thrusting, prolonging your orgasm and milking his own, his cock twitching as he empties himself completely dry.

Suddenly drained and spent, Satoru collapses atop you; his chest rising and falling against your own as he buries himself into the crook of your neck. The weight and warmth of his body against yours is comforting, grounding you in the aftermath of your shared passion. Not wanting to dislodge himself just yet, he drapes one arm across your stomach, holding you close, while his other hand gently caresses your cheek, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin.

You look into his eyes, now softened with a deep satisfaction and affection. The intensity of the moment lingers between you, a silent acknowledgment of the connection you've always shared but never fully expressed.

"I love you," you whisper, your voice barely audible but filled with all the emotion you've held inside. The words you've desperately been wanting to say for years now finally roll off your tongue, carrying with them the weight of your unspoken feelings. Each word is a release, a freeing of the heart that has longed for this moment.

Satoru's eyes widen slightly at your confession, and then a tender, loving smile spreads across his face. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if to seal the promise of his affection.

"I love you too," he murmurs against your skin, his voice a low, comforting rumble. "I always have." The sincerity in his words resonates through you, filling the spaces that have long been empty with warmth and joy.

He shifts slightly, allowing you to nestle more comfortably against him. The rhythm of his breathing begins to slow, his body relaxing into a state of contented fatigue. You match his breaths, finding a perfect synchronicity that lulls you into a sense of peace.

In this moment, everything is perfect. You are his, and he is yours, and together, you can face whatever comes next.

Maybe, just maybe, this future will be different.

You can only hope.

#gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #jjk fanfic #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #satoru smut #gojo smut #satoru gojo #satoru angst #gojo angst #satoru gojo angst #satoru gojo smut #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader

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koenigami · 2 months ago

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'cause my love, is mine all mine. tags : fluff, fem!reader, child!reader, reader accidentally turned into child, a little angst and brief mention of his past wc : 2k synopsis : a failed commission leads to wriothesley having to take care of a mini-version of the love of his life masterlist - Laughter and squeals echo through the large hall as Sigewinne leisurely skips her way up to the Duke’s office, the sight that awaits her at the top of the staircase planting a soft smile on her face.

A slightly out-of-breath Wriothesley chasing a little girl around his desk, her h/c hair bouncing and flying back and forth as she tries to evade the man’s arms all while giggling and grinning as if there were no tomorrow.

To anyone else, this would seem like any other normal afternoon on which the Duke spends time with his daughter, a carbon copy of you, and entertains every single wish of hers because he’s physically unable to tell her no.

However, many things that occur in the Fortress of Meropide should not necessarily be considered normal. Because in fact, you and Wriothesley don’t have a child that looks exactly like you. Because said child is, as a matter of fact, actually you yet simply a younger version of yourself. How is that possible, anyone would ask?

Well, let’s just say that your last commission with the adventurer’s guild didn’t exactly go the way you had hoped it to. While on expedition, your team had found a yet unexplored cave and stumbled upon a variety of ancient artifacts.

By your colleagues’ reports, it seems like a look into a small hand mirror was all it took for your body to shrink, and your features to turn younger by two decades.

It has been almost 48 hours since Monsieur Neuvillette had visited him in his office, the young girl that had been tightly holding onto his hand immediately running up to Wriothesley as soon as her eyes fell on him. All it took was one single look at the Iudex’ apologetic expression, as well as one look at the child’s too familiar face to know that something must have gravely gone wrong during your mission.

“Sigewinne!” You smile when you notice the Melusine quietly standing across the room. With an equally kind face, she waves at you before motioning Wriothesley to have a word with her for a brief moment. So, dejectedly, you watch as the huge man with messy black and greyish hair leaves you to your own devices.

With a little pout, you settle down on his big fancy chair, fish out the markers that he had let someone bring for you, and continue the drawing that you started earlier while he was busy with some paperwork.

You aren’t entirely sure what it is about him, or the other man with beautiful long hair who had brought you to Wriothesley in the first place but- Amidst the chaos in your head, and the fact that you can’t remember a single thing that happened before the past two days, something about them was comforting and provided you with a sense of safety. Especially the wolf-like man. He was nice.

There’s a sudden warmth that settles on top of your head. With big, sparkling eyes, you peer up at Wriothesley who’s analysing the lines of your colourful drawing while his hand nearly engulfs the entirety of your head. “Is it okay if I leave you alone for a few minutes? There’s some stuff I have to check with Sigewinne. I won’t be too long, I promise.”

He notices your eyes widen briefly before you start gnawing on the inside of your cheek and contemplate over his words. Ever since you’ve come back like this, Wriothesley has not been able to leave you alone for even a second, which you’re more than happy about because spending time with him is fun! Of course he doesn’t let on that the reason behind it is his worry about something happening to you, or you getting yourself in trouble, or someone else using your current state as an opportunity to hurt you.

That’s why it pains him even more when he sees the brief look of reluctance in your eyes before you nod silently and go back to your drawing.

With a sad smile on his face, he sighs once he realises that even your younger self seems not to be any better at voicing her true feelings, instead opting to just swallow every negative emotion like a bitter pill.

With a caress over your soft hair, Wriothesley leaves, and the sound of his thick boots as he descends the staircase echo through his office before the door falls shut behind him.

True to his word, Wriothesley returns a quarter of an hour later, a small flacon in his hand which is supposed work as an antidote for whatever kind of higher power has cursed you. As much as he has gotten to enjoy your younger self’s presence, there is no denying that he misses the actual you. And the longer you’re staying in your current form, the more he frets about the possible consequences it could have for your body and health if you’re not turned back into an adult as soon as possible.

Climbing his way up to his office, he can already tell by your panicked little murmurs that you must be up to something. If anyone else so much as tried to snoop around in Wriothesley’s sanctuary, the consequences would be grave. Yet the simple thought of little you stomping around, your eyes sparkling with curiosity as your small chubby hands open and close drawers, and pry open insignificant boxes and chests- He can’t help but smile with a little headshake.

However, his smile immediately falls when he sees your slumped figure kneeling on the floor, surrounded by books and other objects that must have fallen out of the shelf and crashed down on the floor.

You startle when he softly calls out your name, the picture in your hand shaking the slightest before you clutch it to your chest and turn your head to face him.

Oh, you’re going to be in so much trouble. All you wanted was to have a look at the framed picture on the shelf, yet in your attempt to jump up to reach it, you accidentally knocked it over with other books and a little vase. And now everything’s broken. The vase, the frame. He’ll be mad.

“Hey, what happened here?”

“I-I’m sorry. I wanted to see the picture b-but-” Your lips wobble, tears fill your eyes, some of them already spilling over your cheeks, as your little body starts to quake with each sniffle and sob.

Comforting words are already on his tongue, but when his eyes catch the broken pieces of porcelain and the glass shards, he immediately feels his blood pressure rocket before he gathers you in his arms. The cushions of the leather couch creak as he sets you down on it before his hands trail over your arms and legs, making sure that there aren’t any cuts or shards lodged into your delicate skin. “You didn’t hurt yourself right?”

Confusion etches itself clearly on your face, because why is he not yelling at you?

At the light shake of your head, Wriothesley’s shoulder visibly sag as he sighs in relief. “That’s good. You have to be more careful, sweetheart.”

Your nose wrinkles as you sniff and wipe the snot off your face with the sleeve of the overly large shirt that you’ve got on. He seems anything but upset. He smiles gently at you, large and warm hands brushing over your cheeks to wipe the remaining tears away before he throws himself on the couch beside you.

“You’re not mad at me?” You sound like a little mouse, and shyly look up at him through your wet and clumpy lashes. Instead of a scowl and disappointed expression, you’re met with gentle blue eyes and an expression that radiates so much reassurance and comfort that it only confuses you even further. Though, at his next words, you think you understand his reaction a little bit better.

“Of course not. I mean it’s not like you knocked those things over on purpose, right?”

The quick shake of your head earns you a thorough ruffle through your hair, paired with a content See? No biggy then, which finally loosens some of the tension and fear in your body. And as the thick paper in your hand crinkles the slightest bit, you realise that you have completely forgotten about the initial reason for this entire ordeal. You hold up the picture in front of your face, and decide to show it to him.

“She… she’s really pretty.”

“Yeah?”

You shoot him an earnest expression, lips pressed tightly as you nod eagerly and hum. Wriothesley cocks a brow at you and a wide grin stretches his mouth, his hand again resting on your head. You like when he does that.

“You know, sometimes she doesn’t believe me when I tell her how beautiful I think she is. Unbelievable, huh?”

The way you gasp incredulously and look up at him with utter disbelief in your eyes almost makes him bite into your soft apple cheeks. “T-Then you have ta’ make sure you tell her more often. Until she believes it!”

Wriothesley seals his promise by hooking his pinky finger around yours, the difference in size making his heart melt into a puddle. And as you hum satisfiedly and return your attention back to the picture of you and him that has been taken a few months ago, he has to admit that as much as he misses the real you- He won’t miss this version of you any less.

But the presence of the little flacon burns in his pocket, and as Sigewinne’s words echo through his mind, he comes to the realisation that bed time is slowly but surely approaching.

As the sun rises, and the fortress automatically comes to life again, Wriothesley is more than relieved to notice your long legs entangled with his, your arm fully able to reach around his waist and pull yourself closer to him. Giving you the potion before falling asleep just as he has been instructed to do must have done the work. However, as his fingertips brush over your cheek, he’s alarmed at the sudden moisture coating them.

“Love? What’s-”

You’re awake. He notices when you bury your face further into his neck and refuse to look at him while tightening your hold on him. Speechless and with a still sleepy and hazy mind, Wriothesley instinctively buries his hand in your hair on the back of your head, the light massaging motions of his fingers seeming to calm you.

With a wet sniff, you eventually pull back and allow him to have a look at you. The same pretty eyes, the same gorgeous smile, the same cute nose that he loves to brush his own against, but this time with slightly less chubbier cheeks and a more mature expression.

“Are you alright?” His body follows yours as you sit up without uttering a word, and instead proceed to wipe your tear stained cheeks. “How are you feeling?”

The longer the silence between you lingers, the more Wriothesley becomes agitated. Could it be that the potion has any side effects? Physically, at least, you seem to be fine yet-

“I’m sorry. I’m fine, I promise. It’s just-” With a last sniff and brush of your finger along your waterline, you turn towards him with a wobbly smile and throw yourself back into his arms. Yeah, wiping all those tears away was for naught. “Gosh, Wriothesley, I just love you so much, you have no idea.”

Wide eyed, he accepts your embrace and snorts at your sudden outburst of love. Naturally, he would never dare to complain about it. Instead, his nose buries in your neck, inhaling your scent, his arms tighten around your waist, hands roam over your back and take in each and every part of your body.

He's truly missed you.

You don’t remember much of the past few days, yet what you do remember perfectly well is the warmth, love and care with which you had been handled. It’s overflowing and filling you with even more adoration for this man because you’re fully aware that it has been him who has taken care of you. Wriothesley, who never truly got to experience the same kind of affection in his early life, who has seen too many atrocities at such a young age. Your heart breaks over the things that he has missed, yet it mends again at the realisation of how proud you are of him. How proud and lucky you are for him to be yours, and you to be his.

And of course, it goes without saying that after this little incident it doesn’t take long until you and him happily announce that if all goes well, in a few months there will be a mini-version of you and him running around the fortress of Meropide. They will fill the place with joy and laughter, and yours and Wriothesley's life with even more happiness and love.

#wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley drabble #genshin x reader #|୧wrio.week୭|

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pretzel-box · 5 months ago

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Summary: You're a mortal fisher that catches the attention of an ancient sea god without knowing it.

Tags: Some 'fluff', mortal reader, sea god sebastian

Words: 2,6k

There was a small village that was cradled on the edge of an unknown island like a forgotten secret among humans, made out of solid stone, earth and sand while being shaped by the restless waves of the deep ocean. Narrow cobbled streets would wound between the homes of sun-bleached woods and weathered bricks while fine smoke curled up from the going chimneys, mingling with the salty sea air. Many signs of a life gathered around this place despite its unknown status.

The endless ocean surrounded the village on all sides, an eternal sentinel, its deep blue waves gently lapping at the shoreline as if it were whispering ancient lullabies. The sun hung low in the sky, casting the world in hues of gold and lavender, where the horizon blurred into a seamless meeting of sea and sky. The sound of gulls crying in the distance echoed through the air, carried by the wind that rustled through the tall grasses and wildflowers growing at the island’s edge.

Farther out, where the cliffs rose jagged and defiant against the endless ocean, the waves crashed with a furious roar, sending white spray high into the air. Yet here, within the village, the sea was gentle—a mirror reflecting the sky’s fading light.

Small fishing boats bobbed in the harbor, tethered to wooden posts worn smooth by years of use. Their painted hulls were chipped and faded, yet they held a quiet dignity, as if they had borne witness to centuries of tides, storms, and the steady rhythm of life. Nets hung drying on the docks, draped like lace over the old wood, waiting for the morning light to send the fishermen back to the open sea.

The wind picked up, carrying with it the scent of salt and damp earth. A few villagers, their faces lined with age and the sea’s touch, gathered in quiet conversation near the docks, their voices low, as if unwilling to disturb the peace. Lanterns flickered to life in the twilight, casting a soft, golden glow over the village, like stars scattered across the earth.

As the day gave way to dusk, the village seemed to breathe, a living thing, connected to the ocean and sky in a way that was timeless. The sea, the cliffs, the forest—they were all one with the village, woven into its very being. And as the stars began to emerge, one by one, above the endless horizon, the island seemed to settle into itself, cradled by the ocean’s eternal embrace, waiting for whatever secrets the tides might bring.

"Listen, my child. Our story began long ago, when the gods still walked the earth and the stars were young."

Once upon a time…

The land was molded by the hands of glorious deities, their fingers painting the skies and carving the rivers. They placed the sun on the horizon and the plains upon the earth. The world flourished, but with its growth came envy, as some gods overshadowed others. To gain power, they created life—humans, born from their desire for control.

At first, humans worshiped their creators with devotion, pledging loyalty to one deity, then betraying the next. They defiled the divine in their thirst for more, striking down gods one by one. Until, at last, only humans remained, reigning over the world they had once been given. The gods, once mighty, were destroyed by the very hands that they had shaped.

The lesson was clear for the mortals: gods could not be trusted.

You grew up in the small village, cradled by the sea, raised between the wind and the waves as if you were a child of nature itself. The first thing you learned was your origin, that you were descended from the gods—gods who were flawed and fallible. Your grandparents told you stories of your ancestors, how they fought with their lives for the right to live on this island, battling forces far beyond their comprehension.

Ages ago, a fierce god named Solace ruled over these waters. His rage, directed at both his siblings and their creations, churned the oceans into relentless fury. Your ancestors tried to cross the waters for months, many drowned and many got sacrificed to soothe the will of the deity that ruled in the waters. His anger blinded Solace, his envy and his feelings were like a sharp sword, pointed at himself. Your ancestors tricked him, like they did with so many other deities before. They sealed him into the ocean, robbing him of his necklace that he wore. And after they triumphed over him, the ocean came to rest. All thanks to the necklace that secretly holds Solace his powers.

A necklace that rested around your neck, a family piece that was given down as the generations passed. It was a sea shell pendant, reflecting in beautiful blue-silver hues as if the sea itself was placed upon you. And you wore it with pride.

Your mother gave it to you the day you joined the family tradition, stepping into the life of a fisher. It was a simple gift, passed down through generations, as much a symbol of your heritage as the sea itself. You learned to live in harmony with the waves, to respect the life beneath the surface, and to take only what was needed. Your family had always been blessed by the ocean, and so would you. It was honest work—give and take—where you not only harvested from the sea but also protected it, keeping it clean and honoring its depths.

"Keep calm," you murmured to yourself, the words a quiet mantra as you sat in your small boat. The sun was warm on your back as you focused on tying the loose strings of your net, the gentle rocking of the boat a familiar comfort.

Your mother had taught you to knit the nets in the old traditional way, every knot a connection to your ancestors. Your father, in turn, had shown you the art of fishing—how to hunt with respect, how to make the death of the fish swift and painless, and how to use every part of it in reverence for the life taken. A true fisher never wastes, for the sea gives generously but only to those who understand its balance.

The rhythm of your hands, the whisper of the wind, and the quiet lap of the waves against the boat—they all wove together like a song. You were part of something much larger than yourself, connected to the ancient currents of the sea, just as your family had always been.

You lifted your finished net, admiring the neat knots with a smile of quiet pride. A rush of happiness filled your chest as you hugged the net, feeling accomplished. You had honored the legacy of your ancestors, crafting the tool with care, just as they had done for generations. It was a simple but profound joy, knowing that you were connected to something so old and enduring.

With a steady breath, you prepared to cast the net into the water, hoping for a good catch to feed your family tonight. The gentle hum of the waves blended with your thoughts, and as the net unfurled, you missed the soft snap of a string breaking. But the sudden blue shimmer at the corner of your eye did not go unnoticed.

Your heart dropped as you realized it was your necklace—the one your mother had given you. Somehow, it had tangled itself in the net, and as you began to fish, it slipped from your neck effortlessly, tumbling into the water before you could react. You watched in stunned silence as the delicate jewelry disappeared beneath the surface, swallowed by the depths in an instant.

The sea, ever so calm just moments ago, now seemed impossibly vast and unyielding. That necklace was more than just a piece of jewelry; it was a part of you, a part of your family. And now, it was gone.

It sank slowly, the glimmering stone catching the last rays of sunlight as it shimmered just beneath the surface, suspended in the water like a delicate promise about to be broken. You watched, helpless, as it drifted deeper, the blue hue of the ocean swallowing it whole. Your heart pounded in your chest, a heavy sense of dread filling you as the necklace—your link to your family, your ancestors—vanished silently into the dark water below.

Your hands slackened, the net forgotten, slipping from your grasp into the boat. Without a second thought, instinct took over. Before you even realized what you were doing, you dove headfirst into the water, chasing the fading glint of silver.

The coldness of the ocean hit you like a shock, but you didn’t care. You kicked your legs, your arms pushing against the water, desperately reaching for the necklace as it continued its slow descent. The light above you grew dimmer as you sank deeper, the world around you a muffled echo of the surface. You could barely see now, the shimmering silver reduced to a distant gleam.

The water pressed in on you, chilling your skin and constricting your lungs. Panic began to claw at the edges of your mind, but you couldn’t stop—wouldn’t stop. It was more than just an heirloom; it was the weight of your ancestors’ blessings, the legacy of your family, and it was slipping further and further away.

Your lungs began to burn, the pressure of the deep water pressing against your chest, but still, you reached out, fingers stretching into the darkness. The necklace was now just a faint blur, fading into the abyss. Desperation surged through you as your arms flailed in the icy depths.

The darkness was overwhelming, the cold water pressing in on all sides as you sank deeper, the faint shimmer of your necklace vanishing into the abyss. Your chest burned, lungs screaming for air, but your limbs were too heavy, too numb. The weight of the ocean dragged you down, and for a moment, you felt yourself surrendering to the pull, the necklace gone.

But then, something strange happened. A warmth surrounded you, gentle and reassuring, cutting through the icy water. A firm hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you upwards with a strength that felt both human and not. Yet, the darkness caught you and you passed out.

The first thing you felt was a pair of warm lips on yours, innocent, shy and yet somewhat dedicated. A wet hand was placed close to your throat. Then your head shot up as reality caught up to you, the water in your lungs creeping up your throat as you coughed it all out.

Coughing, disoriented, you blinked away the saltwater from your eyes, the world around you blurred. As your vision cleared, you found yourself being held by a man—no, something far more. His eyes, a deep and endless blue, locked onto yours. His presence was as overwhelming as the ocean itself, powerful and ancient, yet there was a softness in the way he held you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came. The stranger's arm was still wrapped around you, steadying you against the gentle rocking of the waves. His dark hair flowed around him, as though it were a part of the sea, and his skin, shimmering faintly in the light, seemed to glow with a quiet radiance. He wasn’t human, no, but he felt familiar.

“Breathe,” he whispered, his voice like the soft murmur of the tide, calming and steady.

You did, drawing in deep, shaky breaths, your heart still racing from the shock. “Who… who are you?” you stammered, your voice weak, barely above a whisper.

He gazed at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with something tender, something that made your chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with fear. "Sebastian," he finally said, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "I live within these waters."

You nodded slowly, still dazed, as you tried to comprehend what had just happened. The cold of the water, the rush of drowning, and now… this.

Then, the realization hit you like a wave crashing over your head. “My necklace,” you breathed, panic swelling inside you again. You turned to look down into the water, but there was no shimmer, no sign of the silverish blue. “It’s gone… my necklace… I lost it.”

Sebastian’s eyes followed yours, and for a moment, a flicker of something like regret passed over his face. “The sea does not return everything,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a kind of sorrow that seemed to echo from somewhere deep within him. "Not all that it takes can be given back."

Your heart sank, the weight of his words settling heavily inside you. The necklace—your family's necklace—was gone, lost forever to the depths. Tears pricked at your eyes, but you fought them back, not wanting to break down in front of this strange, beautiful man who had saved your life.

Sebastian’s gaze softened as he watched you, and before you could react, his hand reached up, brushing gently against your cheek, his touch feather-light. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and you could hear the sincerity in his voice, the sadness that lingered in his words. “I wish I could have saved it for you.”

You swallowed hard, nodding, though the ache in your chest was still raw. “It was my family…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “It was important.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, simply letting his fingers linger against your skin, his presence steady, grounding. “Your family's memory doesn’t live in that necklace,” he said softly, his eyes searching for yours. “It lives in you. In everything you carry with you. That cannot be lost, not to the sea or anything else.”

His words, gentle and warm, wrapped around your heart like a soothing balm. You nodded again, still feeling the loss, but somehow, in his presence, the grief didn’t feel quite so unbearable.

For a moment, you simply floated there together, the waves lapping gently against your bodies, the sun casting a warm, golden light over the surface of the water. Sebastian’s hand stayed close to yours, his touch lingering, as though he couldn’t quite bring himself to let you go.

“Why did you help me?” you asked after a long silence, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure if you wanted the answer.

Sebastian’s gaze flickered, his deep blue eyes searching yours. “Because,” he said softly, a hint of something more in his voice, something unspoken, “I couldn’t let you go.”

There was something in the way he looked at you, an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. You couldn’t understand it, the pull between you two, but it was undeniable. He had saved you—not just from drowning, but from something deeper, something you couldn’t quite name.

For now, you let the quiet peace of the ocean surround you, content in his presence, even as the necklace drifted farther into the depths, lost but somehow no longer the most important thing in your heart.

You finally took the time to admire his large form, he was as pretty as the mermaids from the childhood stories, as gentle looking as the ocean and his eyes, his eyes were like the ones of a god. You never saw someone like him before, but he mesmerized you.

He had placed you back into your boat, his hand lingered a bit longer on your cheek than anticipated and you could feel a mutual spark between you two.

#sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace #sebastian x reader #pressure sebastian solace #pressure sebastian #pressure x reader #roblox pressure #roblox sebastian #roblox sebastian solace #sebastian solace x you #pressure #sebastian solace fanfic

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brain-rot-central · 1 year ago

Text

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal

A/N: This is a working title. I reserve the right to change it going forward, lol. This is also my first AA fic! Can't believe it took me this long. Also feel free to note any other tags I may have missed. I'll add them as I go.

Rating: E Word count: 5.1k Pairing: Ascended Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: 18+, post-canon, PiV sex, creampie, angst, stalking behavior, obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulative behavior (overall A's not really the greatest in this), use of derogatory language (though not at anyone specifically), messy break-up, depictions of gore, break-up (maybe make-up?) sex

Summary: Astarion has performed the Rite, becoming someone unrecognizable. Tav leaves him after settling their business with the Netherbrain, refusing his proposition to become his consort. She uses these last 6 months to heal her broken heart, mourning all they were and what they could have been. Hopefully all her hard work has paid off, because he's decided he wants her back and drops in for a visit.

♥ Next Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

“It's awfully dangerous for such delectable morsels to leave their windows open this time of night.”

The whimsical voice comes from behind. With it, a rush of cold air sweeps through the quaint upstairs bedroom. Curtains lining the double panes of the front windows dance as the breeze blows in. Papers on the dresser scatter about the floor.

A young woman dressed in a sheer linen nightgown sits at her vanity, combing through her long red hair, when she freezes.

A familiar scent dances beneath her olfactory nerves - heady, rich, citrus. She breathes deeply, the warm spice of the cologne sweeping through her. Waves of heat pulse throughout her body as her ears pick up the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

With a sigh, the woman closes her eyes as the assailant reaches her position, their footsteps coming to a halt behind her.

It's him, she realizes. She’s never been more sure of anything else in her life.

Many months have passed since their last meeting. Passion burned as hot as an Infernal forge on that night. Promises of love, of pleasure, of power poured freely from their lips as their bodies intertwined. At that moment, she was prepared to give him everything - her life, her freedom, her body, soul.

She would have, had she not come to realize it was all an elaborate farce.

As she cracks open her eyes, daring to look up, the woman catches his reflection in the vanity mirror. With an audible gasp, it quickly dawns on her that this is the first time she’s seeing his face reflected in a glass pane.

Their eyes meet in the mirror, her chest suddenly heaving.

It is him.

And by the Gods, he's even more devastatingly handsome than she remembers.

“You never know what sort of monsters are out lurking the streets, hm?” he purrs, bringing his face close to her ear.

Assaulted once more by the warm spice of his cologne, her head spins.

“Astarion,” the woman whispers, nearly breathless. “What are you doing here?”

Craning his head, Astarion dips down into the nape of her neck, inhaling deeply. Her pulse quickens as he draws near, heart hammering away in her ribcage. His lips curl, fangs gleaming in the faint candlelight illuminating the room as his tongue sweeps over his teeth.

“I needn't an invitation to go where I please now, pet,” he pants against her neck.

A cold shudder shoots down her spine.

There was a time when her body would come alight from his many terms of endearment.

Darling, dear, sweet, pet, love.

Love.

“Nothing special, of course. You're only the first person I truly care for.”

His words echo in the far recesses of her mind. The words of her companion and partner, her lover… of a man who no longer exists.

That night in the ritual chamber, he changed.

The sound of the staff hitting the stone floor reverberates off ancient walls. Cazador and his spawn playing their parts, bound together in blood by the Rite. Astarion, levitating at the center, eyes burning red as an aura of blood envelops him. He's chanting the words - the Infernal seance that was once meant to be his end.

Her tongue lay heavy in her mouth. Words fly across her mind; desperate pleas begging him to reconsider, to stop this. None ever make it past her lips.

Suddenly, the spawn pop. One after the other.

Pop, pop, pop.

Astarion laughs, loud and boisterous, relishing the new found power that comes with each death.

Finally comes Cazador's turn.

He screams - a true blood-curdling scream. The type you hear moments before a person knows death has come, all too late. His voice carries on as she stands in the chamber, helplessly watching Cazador succumb to the ritual. He bursts at the seams into a pile of pulverized matter, dripping onto the floor below, completely unrecognizable.

Then suddenly, the room is engulfed by a haunting silence.

The Ascension… is complete.

The aura around Astarion fades and he drops down onto the platform below his feet. He remains kneeling for a moment. The sound of his breathing is all that fills the chamber, companions too stunned to speak.

He rises, slowly turning to face their leader. Looking upon his face, she sees the horrible truth lay bare before her.

Her lover is no more.

She's mourned him, the promise of them, ever since that night. Cried tears until her head throbbed and her face swelled, cried until nothing but sleep could soothe the ache in her heart.

And here he stands behind her, a scowl littering his visage as their eyes meet yet again in the mirror.

Her heart pounds in her throat, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. She swallows, asking, “Why did you come here, Astarion?”

Astarion pulls himself back, taking a few paces away from the woman. Folding his arms over his chest, he replies, “My darling Tav, I've come to take you home.”

“Home? I am home,” insists Tav. Turning her body, still seated in her chair, she scans him over.

Moonlit curls sweep elegantly across his forehead, framing his face. Ruby gems glint in the dim light of the room. He's wearing a black and silver doublet, blood-red dragons delicately embroidered on the lapel. Every bit elegant and refined; elite.

Astarion's face softens. He draws closer again, Tav’s breath hitching as his hand cups her chin. Tilting her face up toward his, he states, “I've given you more than enough freedom.” He cranes his head, bringing his lips a breath above her own as he whispers, “Don't you think?”

The velvet grace of his voice makes her dizzy. Tav realizes she feels heat radiating off his skin as their faces draw closer in proximity; a stark contrast to his usual aura. Her face burns - a fire that quickly spreads down into her belly. Tav tries to speak but Astarion closes the distance, lips capturing hers in a delicate embrace. His kiss is soft, alluring, unhurried.

Gentle, she thinks to herself. He's being so gentle.

“Astarion-” she protests, logic returning to her as she breaks the kiss. Tav scans his face, drawing her head back. Heavy lids fall over his eyes as they transfix upon her lips. He’s hungry, in more ways than one.

She knows that look. It's the very same he'd give her night after night in his tent, when all he wished was to share his body with her. Instead, they'd find other ways to partake in the ecstacy of one another until they were left breathless and panting.

But that was long ago.

Astarion's tongue darts out to lick over his lips as he says, “A lord is nothing without his dearest consort.” He moves to kiss her again, but Tav quickly ducks out of reach. She stands, hands clenched in tight fists.

“No,” she insists, locking eyes with him. She furrows her brow. “I will not be made into your personal plaything!”

A chuckle rumbles from his chest. Astarion tilts his head, a smirk forming on his face. “‘Plaything?’” he reiterates. “Do you believe I think that little of you?” Astarion brushes his knuckles over Tav’s cheek. “My darling treasure,” he begins, “I have many playthings, though none are quite like you.”

Tav’s pupils blow wide.

Astarion means to make her jealous with talk of other lovers. He means to fill her mind with images of him making love to unknown beings. To make her think of him finding pleasure in others who are not her.

She will not rise to it.

“Your chosen harlots aren’t enough?” Tav sneers. “I thought Lord Astarion Ancunín had everything he desired?”

With a scoff, Astarion replies, “You don't get it, do you?” A twinge of impatience can be heard as he says, “You helped make me what I am. We are bound to one another, until the end of time.”

Tav shudders as his hands come up to hold her face. She pulls in a sharp breath, expecting the cold sting of death from his usual chilled palms. Yet, they're completely warm as they cradle her jaw. Another reminder that he is now very much changed. Alive. His cologne assaults her senses once more and her eyes flutter closed as she settles into the strange comfort of his touch.

“My heart will never stop calling for you,” Astarion speaks softly. “No other can satisfy that hunger.” He brushes over her bottom lip with the pad of a thumb and feels her tremble below him. “You are to be my consort, my bride,” he insists, voice stern but low. “That is your role in this.”

Tav falters beneath his touch, allowing herself to be walked back to the wall next to the vanity. Her hands come up to wrap around his wrists. “Such honeyed words,” she retorts. “If I didn't know any better, I'd actually believe you.” Her back connects with the wall and she gasps.

“Tav, look at me,” Astarion demands with urgency. She doesn't comply, turning her head to the side. Slipping a hand from her cheek to grasp her chin, he forcibly turns her head back toward his. “Look at me!” he spits again.

Hesitant to look upon Astarion’s face, Tav cracks her eyes open. Opening them fully, it's not anger that she finds there. Her stomach flips. No, not anger or even disappointment. Instead, she sees… vulnerability.

“I wish I could replace you. I’ve tried,” Astarion bites out through clenched teeth. His face falls as his eyes settle on her. “Nothing can fill the void your absence has left.” He shakes his head slightly before adding, “Something within me screams for you, as if I were alone in a decrepit crypt and only you can save me.”

Her heart beats wildly in her chest. She feels as though she may suffocate, or that her heart may give out at a moment's notice. Tav begins to feel the tendrils of desire dance across her abdomen. They start low in her groin and quickly spread upward, causing a rhythmic contraction of her walls. She cannot fall for this again, she simply must not. All he's done is spout pretty words and step into her presence. And yet…

His breath pants against her face as he rests their foreheads together. The scent of freshly chewed mint whirls beneath her nose. Her vision spins.

In her stupor, Tav hardly notices Astarion's hands slipping under her nightgown. His palms rest on the backs of her thighs and he lifts a leg, allowing more room to slot himself against her core.

Tav groans as their centers meet, arching her back. Her chest presses into his and she moans, hands seeking purchase in his hair as he rocks himself into her once again.

“Astarion,” she pleads, wrapping her leg around the small of his back. A bolt of pleasure shoots up from her groin. She feels her walls clench again in desperation as his hardened cock brush against her cunt, straining against the fabric of his trousers. Her body remembers him and is all too eager to receive him once more.

Astarion knows. He recalls exactly how her body reacts almost on instinct to his touch. He pants against her lips with each roll of his hips into hers. “Come home with me, Tav,” he groans out. “Please, darling. I need you.”

His voice comes out ragged, stressed. Astarion leans against her chest, slipping his face into the nape of her neck. Inhaling deeply, a fire begins smoldering low in his belly. Her scent is of fresh mountain dew in early spring. Floral, sweet, and holding the promise of possibility. His cock twitches in anticipation.

Tav moans, loud and unfiltered. Her knees grow weak and she nearly buckles off the wall if Astarion weren't holding her up. She throws her head against the wall behind her, back arching once again.

“I mourned you,” Tav tells him, nearly breathless. “I mourned us.” She doesn't protest as Astarion lifts her other leg to join in locking around his waist. Tav doesn't fight how he grinds himself into her again, trapping her between himself and the wall. She feels faint, her vision growing fuzzy at the edges, though she manages to huff out, “You don't get to come here and make demands of me, Astarion.”

Astarion pulls his head back leisurely to meet her eyes. “You left me, remember?” he says low in his throat.

“What choice did you leave me with?” Tav exclaims in frustration. “You wanted me to sacrifice my life in order to prove my love for you. You would have never asked that of me before that accursed Rite!”

“I only wish to live out the rest of eternity together,” Astarion replies. “I promised I would protect you, that no harm would ever come to you.”

Tav stares into his face as realization registers in her mind, mouth falling slightly agape. She's gotten used to reading between the lines of his words, so often laced with duplicate meaning. True to his former life as a rogue of the night.

Her mortality is a threat to his oath.

Astarion cannot fathom going through the rest of time without her. Or, he does, and the thought is too painful for him to ever risk becoming reality. That is what he means to say, though apparently incapable in this new state.

“Isn't this what you wanted?” he asks, quietly. “To be together? Forever?”

Tears well in the creases of her eyelids and Tav sobs. “You are a fool, Astarion Ancunín,” she chides.

Astarion hovers his mouth mere millimeters above hers. “Only for you,” he says. “Always for you.” He captures her lips in a gentle embrace, breathing deeply through his nose as he pushes further into the kiss.

Tav moans into his mouth as she slackens her jaw, creating enough room for their tongues to begin exploring one another. She gasps as Astarion carries her from the wall to her bed on the far side of the room, grabbing at his shoulders for leverage.

“Tell me I may have you,” he asks, breaking the kiss as he lays her down over the mattress. He climbs over her, mouth descending upon her neck. He peppers chaste kisses along the underside of her jaw.

Tav writhes beneath him, whimpers escaping her throat as he licks and suckles on the delicate flesh of her throat. With resolve quickly waning, her hands find purchase again in silver locks as she finally says, “You may, but only for tonight.”

Astarion freezes above her. Hesitantly, he pulls himself back, looking her over as he begins shrugging off his doublet. “Are you sure?” he inquires softly.

This is the perfect opportunity to ask him to turn and leave. To not start this over again, to not return down a path in which she knows there is no favorable end. Though, Tav also cannot deny just how much she has missed him, as well.

“It's only sex, Astarion,” she tells him, sitting up to undo the ties of her nightgown. “That's all this will be.”

His hands come to rest atop hers, replacing her motions as he pulls gently at the laces of the gown. With the last tie undone her gown falls open, revealing her bare breasts to his heated gaze. Astarion sucks in a sharp breath as he meets her eyes.

“Only sex,” he ponders aloud as he furrows his brow. “But what if I want-”

“No,” Tav interjects, voice firm. “This is all I can give you. You either take this, or you have nothing.” Her breathing comes uneven as she stares back at him, chest heaving. Her nerves have come alight; she cannot fall in love with him again, but she can at least offer him this.

With a curt nod, Astarion replies, “As you wish.”

His expression is guarded as he fumbles with the laces of his trousers. He pulls his undershirt up and over his head, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor behind the bed. Standing up, he peels off his boots, pants, and underclothes in one fell swoop. He returns to Tav on the bed as bare as the day he was born, following her eyes as they roam down the long plane of his torso. They come to rest between his thighs.

Astarion’s cock stands ready at attention, jumping in tandem with his heartbeat. Saliva pools thick on her tongue and she slips the nightgown down and off her arms. She's left naked before him, not having time to fully dress before his unexpected visit. Tav hears him groan as he looks her over.

A surprised gasp falls from her mouth as he cups her sex. She feels him drag two fingers through the arousal that has already gathered between her folds, and watches as he brings those same fingers to his mouth. A bolt of desire pulls behind her navel as she watches his slick-soaked fingers slip between his lips. He suckles around them, moaning his approval.

With a wet pop, Astarion pulls the two digits from his mouth and places them against her cunt again. They're saturated with his spittle, softly prodding at her entrance.

“A-ah!” Tav gasps as his fingers sink in. It's only two, but Gods how she's struggling to take them. They glide in and out, Astarion occasionally curling his fingers to pass along the spongy spot inside her that turns her vision white.

It's not long before he's pulling his fingers out and lining himself up along her entrance. Astarion spits into his hand, giving himself a few languid strokes. The weight of his cock slaps down heavily as he drags his length through her slickened folds once, twice, before he's finally slipping into her.

Screwing his eyes shut, Astarion lets out a guttural groan as he feels his tip pop through her tense entrance, her warmth enveloping him as he seats himself a bit further before halting. Her walls spasm wildly around his shaft; it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to sink the rest of himself down into her inviting wet heat.

Tav sighs as she finally adjusts, body relaxing around him. She hadn't necessarily forgotten that taking Astarion is no small feat, though she did forget how it feels to actually do so.

“You can move,” she tells him meekly.

He doesn't respond with words; a simple nod of his head is all Tav gets before he's leaning over her, hips slipping further and further toward the backs of her thighs. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, Astarion pulls her into him, pelvis meeting her backside. He growls, cock twitching as his tip brushes against her cervix.

Tav shudders under him as he pulls out, feeling the dragging of his length within her cunt, only for him to push back in with added force. Her body jerks upward from the power of his thrust. An audible string of whimpers falls freely from her lips as he does it again, and again, and again.

Astarion catches Tav’s hands as she tries reaching for him, pushing them back toward the bedsheets. Confused by his gesture, Tav tries again, only for Astarion to once more shove her hands off of him.

Stunned, Tav looks at his face. Sweat is beginning to gather along his brow, though he keeps perfect composure. There is no lust nor passion to his expression. He looks… removed. Distant. Aloof.

Just… having sex.

“Astarion?” Tav asks, concerned. “I can't touch you?”

He scoffs above her, grunting as he slams his hips again into hers. “Touch is a rather intimate thing,” he says, sarcasm saturating his tone. “Intimacy isn't welcome when you're just having sex.”

“Stop,” Tav demands, hands pressing against his stomach. Astarion immediately ceases his movements. “This is too cold, Astarion,” she says quietly. “This isn't us.”

Above her, Astarion sucks in a large breath. “It is when it's devoid of emotion,” he clarifies, patience wearing thin. “That's what you wanted, isn't it?” He tilts his head, craning his neck to look down upon her. “Just a quick romp?”

“I-”

Venom seeps from his pores as he quickly adds, “If you were ever curious as to how I treat my harlots, well, now you know. It's rather different from our last time, eh? I wonder why that is?” Astarion feigns an inquisitive glance, placing a finger to the side of his mouth as his lips form into a pout.

“Astarion, I-”

Tav tries desperately to interject, but is disrupted again by Astarion snapping his fingers. “Oh, I know! It's because I made love to you!” he sneers, lips curling over his fangs as he leans closer to her face. “You were never a conquest to me!” he growls. “Never one night it's best to forget.”

Astarion exhales, eyes falling closed in an effort to regain his composure. “If you insist on me treating you like a whore in a brothel, fine,” he says, “I'll do it. But know it's not done willingly.”

Tav remains silent, words failing her. Her body trembles as the full weight of his confession echoes throughout her mind. Pulling in ragged breaths, she questions, “Would you make love to me again? If I asked?”

Astarion huffs out a laugh, his expression softening. “I would raze an entire city for you,” he confirms. “You need only ask.”

A sense of despair enshrouds her as she stares into his ruby red eyes. He still loves her, Tav realizes. As much as, if not more than, the day she left him. Her head pounds; she needs to stop this from going forward. The voice in her head is begging her not to continue, to not risk reopening the wound she's spent the last six months delicately stitching back together.

Their last night together replays in her thoughts. She recalls the all-encompassing feeling of want that radiated off Astarion, that night. He carried her into a world of pleasure she never dreamed possible, all while singing praises deeply into her ear as he rocked in and out of her core. They joined as one, body and soul. Or so Tav thought, until the following morning.

Astarion looks at her now with that same compassion in eyes. He means what he says; he would destroy anyone and anything should she ask it of him. He's already destroyed himself, all in a vow to protect her.

Choking back a sob, she accepts final defeat in the battle her heart fought so desperately since he first came through her window. “Make love to me then, Astarion,” Tav tells him, pleadingly. “The way you used to.”

The flame of the single candle in the room dances in his eyes. The ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Oh, my sweet,” he purrs, “There's nothing I'd like more,” Astarion brushes her cheek with the back of a palm. His arousal has flagged, still situated within Tav’s warmth, though it stirs back to life as he captures her lips in a hungry kiss.

Tav groans as she feels Astarion's length swell within her walls, noises swallowed by his mouth over hers. When he grows stiff enough, Astarion gives shallow thrusts between her legs. It isn't long until he's back to full virility, rolling his hips into hers in a steady rhythm.

She cries out as he breaks the kiss, one last deep thrust before he's pulling out of her. Pushing her legs back, knees almost hitting her chest, Astarion slips back into place between her thighs. Tav’s knees are being held up by his shoulders as he bends forward, sliding his cock back into her slickened cunt with ease.

Astarion groans as his cock slides down, down, down until his tip nudges the end of her tunnel. Tav gasps as he settles himself impossibly deeper, hips giving a soft push that leaves her womb pulsing. She claws at Astarion’s back when he pulls his hips up slightly, only to crash into her again.

Astarion rests his forehead against Tav’s. He drops his hips repeatedly into her center, eyes locked with hers as he does. The air pushed from her lungs from each of his thrusts passes over his face and he greedily sucks it in. Her face is flushed shades of red and pink as blood rushes through her veins, singing her desire loudly in his ears.

Nails sink into the tender scars on his back and Astarion hisses. With half open eyelids, Tav struggles to keep his gaze, pleasure threatened to overwhelm her. But when she finally does, she sees it. There, in his eyes, is him. The man she fell in love with.

Astarion's eyes are soft, round, pleading. The eyes of the man she gave herself to repeatedly all those months ago.

Each night she spent being devoured by his mouth, pulling the very essence of her body into his, she felt it - the sanctity of her oath dangling in the balance. Should she have stuck to her teachings, Astarion would’ve been staked through the heart at first discovery of his true nature. And yet, night after night, she willingly succumbed to the lustful desires that only her blood could provide him.

She moans as he angles his hips sharply on the next downstroke, the head of his cock brushing deliciously up against her spot. The rhythmic fluttering of her tunnel over his shaft pulls a throaty groan from Astarion, who quickly buries his face into the nape of her neck as the sensation wracks through his body. His arms envelop her torso, using her as leverage to increase the pace of her thrusts.

Tav feels her arousal leaking down the cleft of her ass, carved out from her with each plunge of his cock into her cunt. The tip of him rams against her spot repeatedly and she shakes in his arms, pleasure coiling tightly in her belly with not much left to hold onto. “Astarion,” she pants against his ear, mindlessly mouthing at his lobe. “Gods, Astarion…”

He groans again against her neck, skin muffling most of it. The sounds of their joint arousal fill the room, and Astarion pulls his lips back in anticipation of his impending climax. The smoldering fire in his belly has erupted into hellfire, threatening to consume all and any in its path if not quelled soon.

Fangs press into the delicate skin of her neck and Tav shivers, hands flying into his hair and grasping, pulling. “Do not bite me, Astarion,” Tav says, panicked.

Humming his disapproval, Astarion reluctantly pulls his head away from her neck. He rests his forehead against hers again. “Where do you want me, Tavaria?” The question comes quietly, unguarded. Strained.

Tavaria.

The sound of her full name on his tongue sends pulses of desire through her belly. He's close, Tav realizes. Astarion pants against her face as his thrusts grow more uneven. Moving a hand to his jaw, Tav holds his cheek, rubbing his chin with her thumb. “However you want,” comes her reply.

Astarion shudders, a moan slipping past his lips, eyes rolling to the back of his skull momentarily. He blinks back into focus, chest heaving as his breathing becomes labored. He's barely lifting hips into Tav, instead giving short stuttering thrusts that have his tip kissing her cervical os.

“Tav, please,” he begs. “Tell me.”

Silver strands of hair stick to his sweat-soaked forehead. Brushing them out of the way with a hand, she plants a kiss between his brow. “Inside,” she coos. “It's okay.”

Carnal desire flares behind Astarion's eyes. He grunts, raw and guttural as he dips his head back into the crook of her neck. He feels his cock begin to swell, a telltale sign that his release is imminent.

Tav whimpers as Astarion rams over her pleasure point again and again, the fattened head of his cock dragging along her walls. It doesn't take much longer before she's screaming out her completion below him, nails digging into the skin of his marred back.

Astarion roars out his own climax above her, balls pulling up tightly as fangs sink into the pillow next to her. He floods her channel with his seed, tiny rolls of his hips pulling groans from his chest as he rides out the wave. Tav’s walls are more than willing to massage the rest of his spend from his balls and into her greedy womb.

They lay together panting, post-coital haze in full effect. It isn't until Astarion shifts to pull out his softening member that Tav feels it - his spend dribbling from her entrance and onto the nightgown under her. He's the first to leave the bed, shaking his head while running a hand through tousled locks. Tav watches him disappear into her washroom as she slowly sits herself up onto her elbows.

The sound of water running into the tub can be heard and Astarion reappears in the doorway. He returns to the bed, Tav gasping as he scoops her up into his arms and carries her toward the washroom.

“What are you doing, Astarion?” she asks, mind still clouded by her peak. She loops her hands around his neck, lolling her head against his shoulder.

A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he kisses the top of her head. “Taking care of you,” he answers, bringing them both across the threshold of the washroom.

-------------------------------------------

Tav awakens the next morning alone, tucked snuggly in her bed. The events of the night are hazy as she slowly regains consciousness. She doesn't recall when or how she fell asleep. Peeling off the covers and giving herself a quick look over, she realizes she's dressed in her nightgown again. The ties are neatly in place, eerily similar to how she had them before.

Looking around her room, there's no evidence that Astarion had been present. The papers she swore fell to the floor are all stacked neatly on her dresser. The candle has been hushed out, and her windows closed.

Was it a dream? she ponders, heart rate rising as her confusion grows.

Her eyes scan the room frantically in an attempt to find a single piece out of place. Finally, she finds the answer she is searching for laying atop her vanity. Rising out of bed, Tav walks over to find a single rose laid across the top of the desk. He was here, Tav notes to herself, bringing the rose to her face. She inhales its sweet scent, dread filling her heart as the heavy weight of last night begins to actualize.

No, it was very real. And it’s only just beginning.

#astarion #ascended astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion smut #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion angst #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion x female tav #my writing #bg3 fanfiction

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screampied · 9 months ago

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thinking about kuna's gf trying to convince him to let her paint his long nails 😃

✩ ‧ ˚. — tags ⋮ fem! reader, pure fluff, heian! era sukuna, panting his nails, meanie kuna but he’s a softie, petnames: little one, woman, girl.

“no.”

a downcasted frown drags against your glossed lips once you sigh. sitting on no one other than sukuna’s lap, you huff out a single vexed breath. “huhh. what do you mean no, i didn’t even ask my question yet.”

“exactly,” he replies in a low voice, leaning back against the ancient, comfortable throne. for a fleeting moment, dark, sinister eyes stare into yours before he cocks his head. “you’re gonna ask me another one of your imprudent questions.”

“kuna, just let me ask you the question,” you protest, straddling the king of curses— it was never a dull moment with him, regardless of how grumpy he turns out to be. knowing sukuna, he’s almost always grumpy. his eyes gaze into you a bit longer and he then brings his thickset upper arms to cross near his chest, a cute pout on his lips as he waits for you to finish speaking. “pretty please?”

“…….fine,” he gives in, aware that you were probably gonna persist on asking him for who knows how many more times. with a sigh, he tilts his head at you. “what is it you wish to ask me, little one?”

smug grin and all, you pick up his broad hand that was so much larger than yours, brushing a thumb against his wrist before cooing, “can i paint your nails, sukuna?”

“no.”

“sukuna!”

he’s leaning back against his throne, the well raised chair sitting up all high and mighty—one of his arms repose near the lower part of his torso and wraps around your hip, pulling you closer.

“you already know what my answer was gonna be, no?” and this time, you give him a pout.

dewey red-shot eyes peer into you for a lengthy amount of time before he groans. that cute little pout of yours, you never fail to make everything so hard for him. “hmph. why do you want to paint my nails? they’re clearly already painted, woman.”

he’s trying..

you hold back a giggle before bringing one of his hands up to your face.

glimmering eyes focus on his nails, how naturally long they were— he had a point though, they were pretty much already painted. full on richly black, the tips of them were oh-so sharp he’d be able to cut about just anything. still, you wanted to paint his nails yourself. you couldn’t really come up with a good enough answer, so you just shrug.

“i just want to,” you hum in a soft voice, intertwining your fingers with his.

he scoffs, showing little to no reaction. with a puny eyebrow raise, you feel his right thigh start to gradually bounce. “please, ryooo,” you mutter, tugging your eyebrows into a pleading, needy furrow. “this way, we can match.”

“goodness, you’re so annoying,” he grumbles, watching your grin stretch as you dangle your own hand up in front of his face.

dark cruel eyes stare at your nails, observing how well manicured and painted they were. he sighs again, uttering out a raspy, “very well,” and he sits manspread, reaching for a nearby tiny table that resides against his infamous throne. “you may paint my nails. just this once.”

with a precious giggle, you grab about two bottles nail polish from your pocket, gently placing his hand down against the porcelain glass table. he’s keeping a sharp eye on you, rolling his eyes at how ecstatic you were on this. the way you treated his hands with such care—that cute little smile never once departing from your sheeny lips,

the moment you twist off the black tight cap that sticks onto the bottle like glue, the strongly loud aroma of the polish hits against his flared nostrils.

it’s heavily strong, the familiar scent of acetone wafts against his domain entirely.

“stay still, ‘kuna.” you whisper, gathering a good amount of polish. for a moment, you swear you could have heard a low growl escape from him.

oh, you were testing his patience.

you were testing sukuna ryōmen’s patience and he was letting you.

“good, good.” you give him a closed-eye smile.

“do not praise me,” he snarls, and he’s already embarrassed. his tone made an attempt to come across as more stern and assertive, but it was just so cute.

with daunting, glaring eyes, he watches silently at the way you softly brush the tip against his nail.

each individual nail took a few seconds each— oddly enough, it was wholly soothing for a while.

“hmph,” he bleats, feeling the softness of your hand skin against his hand every so often. you were so thorough, so precise.

delicately, you lay the brush flat against the bed of his nail. the bristles coat against the layer of his nail and you feel a brief coldness of air fan against your skin. it was rather amusing to watch you pay so close attention to him, to his hands. “hm,” he raises a brow for probably the nth time today. still scowling, his face softens a bit— you had him all relaxed. “you’re quite good at that, i must admit.”

“aw. thank you,” you cheese. with a grin, you give him a cute exuberant glance, pulling up his ring finger to paint the entire part of his nail with a freshly new coat. “how’s it feel?”

sukuna groans, not liking how sentimental this moment was. the entire mood was so … soft.

you made him feel soft— he always thought things like that just wasn’t possible. especially with someone as such as him.

who would have thought that painting the almighty sukuna ryomen’s nail’s would have him falling for you ten times harder . . ?

“it’s … good,” he utters in a gruff tone, and you’re just about done.

his eyes linger toward your hands for a long time, you’re still placed on his lap before you feel the curse’s lower arms grip against your waist tightly. you felt a feeling of abrupt security and it was quite nice. within his touch, you always felt secure. moments with him like this, you’d never be anywhere else. “hurry up though, my thigh’s cramping.”

“oh shut up.” you roll your eyes with a snicker, bringing the brush towards his pinky now. he sticks it out for you, staying still as possible before you pause— dipping it back into the glass teensy bottle, swirling it, delving it around the inner crevices of the glass before finishing up his final finger.

the audacity,

the audacity of telling him to shut up, you must have been out of your mind.

but truth be told, sukuna has somewhat of a sweet spot for you. it made him kiss his teeth in sheer exasperation. he wasn’t used to such tender forms of affection. part of him wonders just why you’re always so warm to him. treating him with such care, he’s the king of curses after all, and yet here he is— acting like his long lost self, the king of love..

“alllll done,” you harmonize, he looks down to see the final results. with low hooded eyes, sukuna stares at his sharp nails— once black, now a light pinkish color. his mouth dangles opens and his face scrunches up, eyebrows curling together and it’s hilarious. for once, sukuna ryomen was speechless. “i know right? you’re gonna get so many compliments, ‘kuna.”

“you did not just paint my nails pink, woman,” he huffs out a grunt, you lean up close to him with a coy, impish look. “the nerve is beyond me..”

you giggle, flashing off your nails in his face, the two of you now having the same exact color. “oh, don’t be a baby. see, now we’re matching,” and his face is still all scrunched up. god, you had him feeling a feeling he didn’t even know he could feel. his stomach’s tight, churning ridiculously, his heart’s racing, and even his palms start to sweat. “with your long nails, you pull it off so well, heh.”

sukuna kept asking himself the same question the more he avoids eye contact.

why must you be so so cute..?

not a single reply comes from his mouth, instead he just crosses his arms into a mere fold. “mhm,” is all he replies with, tilting his head before resuming his words with an obstinate grouse. “whatever. but i’ll have you know that pink is not my color.”

you titter. “oh? what is your color then, my lord?”

you were being a brat, he sends you daggers before regretting he even said that— you always had the higher up on him, every single time.

“tch. nevermind that,” sukuna scorns, and his pout was so adorable.

pink stretched lips compressing together, stubborn as usual.

he brings his hand towards his face before exhaling lowly. “what in the— the nerve of you to put little sparkles on it too,” and he watches your smile beam at his live reaction. “i … don’t know what i’m gonna do with you.”

“you can start by thanking me,” you tease, planting your lips against his cheek.

he tenses up, the softness of your lips giving him whiplash for a moment. every time you present him either something as simple as a kiss, he was never prepared for it. “fine. thank you,” and as his bulky lower arms snake around your waist, he meets your brightly dilated irises. “are ya finished? i need a nap.”

“so old,” you stroke his cheek, and that earns a glare from him. “it’s not even the afternoon yet,” and you gift him with another mwah, the contact that your sweet lips provides has him growing more and more flustered. “but yes, i’m done ‘kuna. thank you.”

“…..good,” he responds after a long seven second pause. sukuna’s scowling before he finally returns your eye contact. his face was slowly getting more flustered from each kiss you give him before he tsks. “ah ah,” he creates a swift hand motion, “off my lap now, you’ve had your fun.”

you frown. “aw,” a sweet disappointed tone hiding underneath your voice. he’s then taken aback once he feels your humanly hands sneak their way into his hair. pink slightly curled up strands of his was a bit messy and tangled. the curse was still publicly pouting, studying your every move before you get an idea. “hm. one more thing though?”

he exhales. “what.”

“can i do your hair? i found some bows and—”

“count your days, girl.”

“stop flirting with me, ‘kuna.”

“….foolish woman,” and after a long dreadful pause, sukuna pouts yet again. so cute, his arms remain crossed before he speaks through annoyingly gritted teeth, an almost smile pokes through his lips that conceals his fangs. “fine. you may do my hair…. or whatever.”

#★vegasbaby.#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines

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dailyadventureprompts · 1 year ago

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Dm Tip: Playing the Villain/ Guidelines for "Evil" Campaigns

I've never liked the idea of running an evil game, despite how often I've had people in my inbox asking how I'd go about it. I'm all about that zero-to-hero heroic fantasy not only because I'm a goodie twoshoes IRL but because the narrative-gameplay premise that d&d is built around falls apart if the party is a bunch of killhappy murder hobos. Not only would I get bored narrating such a game and indulging the sort of players who demands the freedom to kill and torture at will (I've had those before and they don't get invited back to my table), but the whole conceit of a party falls through when the obviously villainous player characters face their first real decision point and attempt to kill eachother because cooperation is a thing that goodguys do.

Then I realized I was going about it all wrong.

The problem was I had started out playing d&d with assholes, those "murder and torture" clowns who wanted to play grand-theft-auto in the worlds I'd created and ignore the story in favour of seeing how much unchallenged chaos they could create. They set my expectations for what an evil campaign was, and I spent the rest of my time developing as a dungeonmaster thinking " I Don't want any part of that"

But what would an evil campaign look like for my playgroup of emotionally healthy friends who understand character nuance? What would I need to change about the fundamental conceit of d&d adventures to refocus the game on the badguys while still following a similar enough narrative-gameplay premise to a hero game? How do we make that sort of game relatable? What sort of power/play fantasy can we indulge in without going off the deepend?

TLDR: In an evil campaign your players aren't playing the villains, they're the MINIONS, they're mooks, henchmen, goons, lackeys. They're the disposable underlings of uncaring overseers who have nothing but ill intent towards them and the world at large.

Where as in a hero game the party is given the freedom to challenge and overthrow corrupt systems, in an evil game the party is suck as part of that corrupt system, forced to bend and compromise and sacrifice in order to survive. The fantasy is one of escaping that corrupt system, of biding your time just long enough to find an opening, find the right leverage, then tossing a molitov behind you on the way out.

Fundamentally it's the fantasy of escaping a shitty job by bringing the whole company down and punching your asshole boss in the face for good measure.

Below the cut I'm going to get into more nuance about how to build these kinds of narratives, also feel free to check out my evil party tag for campaigns and adventures that fit with the theme.

Designing a campaign made to be played from the perspective of the badguys requires you to take a different angle on quest and narrative design. It’s not so simple as swapping out the traditionally good team for the traditionally bad team and vis versa, having your party cut through a dungeon filled with against angel worshiping holyfolk in place of demon worshipping cultists etc.

Instead, the primary villain of the first arc of the campaign should be your party’s boss. Not their direct overseer mind you, more CEO compared to the middle managers your party will be dealing with for the first leg of their journey. We should know a bit about that boss villain’s goals and a few hints at their motivation, enough for the party to understand that their actions are directly contributing to that inevitable doom.

“Gee, everyone knows lord Heldred swore revenge after being banished from the king’s council for dabbling in dark magic. I don’t know WHY he has us searching for these buried ancient tablets, but I bet it’s not good”

Next, you need a manager, someone who’s a part of the evil organization that the party directly interfaces with. The manager should have something over the party, whether it be threats of force, blackmail, economic dependency… anything that keeps the antiheroes on the manager’s leash. Whether you make your manager an obvious asshole or manipulative charmer, its important to maintain this power imbalance: The party arn’t going to be rewarded when the boss-villain’s plan goes off, the manager is, but the manager’s usefulness to the boss-villain is contingent on the work they’re getting the party to do. This tension puts us on a collison course to our first big narrative beat: do the party get tired of the manager’s abuse and run away? Do they kill the manager and get the attention of the upper ranks of the villainous organization? Do they work really hard at their jobs despite the obvious warning signs and outlive their usefulness? Do they upstage their manager and end up getting promoted, becoming rivals for the boss-villain’s favor?

Building this tension up and then seeing how it breaks makes for a great first arc, as it lets your party determine among themselves when enough is enough, and set their goals for what bettering the situation looks like.

As for designing those adventures, you’ll doubtlessly realize that since the party arn’t playing heroes you’ll need to change how the setup, conflict, and payoff work. They’re still protagonists, we want them to succeed after all, but we want to hammer home that they’re doing bad things without expecting them to jump directly to warcrimes.

Up to no good: The basic building block of any evil campaign, our party need to do something skullduggerous without alerting the authorities. This of course is going to be easier said than done, especially when the task spins out of control or proves far more daunting than first expected. The best the party can hope for is to make a distraction and then escape in the chaos, but it will very likely end with them being pursued in some manner (bounties, hunters, vengeful npcs and the like). Use this setup early in a campaign so you have an external force gunning for your party during the remainder of their adventures.

Dog eat dog: It’s sort of cheating to excuse your party’s villainous actions by having them go up against another villain who happens to be worse than they are. The trick is that we’re not going after this secondary group of outlaws because they’re bad, we’re doing it because they’ve either got something the boss wants, or they’re edging in on the boss’s turf. This sort of plotline sees the party disrupting or taking advantage of a rival’s operation, then taking over that operation and risking becoming just as villainous as that rival happened to be. This can also be combined with an “Up to no good” plot where both groups of miscreants need to step carefully without alerting an outside threat.

The lesser evil: This kind of plot sees your party sent out to deal with an antagonistic force that’s a threat not only to the boss’s plans but to everyone in general. In doing so they might end up fighting alongside some heroes, or accidentally doing good in the long run. This not only gives your party a taste of heroism, but gives them something in their back pocket that could be used to challenge the boss-villain in the future.

The double cross: In order to get what they want, the party need to “play along” with a traditional heroic narrative long enough to get their goal and then ditch. You have them play along specifically so they can get a taste of what life would be like if they weren't bastards, as well as to make friends with the NPCs inevitably going to betray. This is to make it hurt when you have the manager yank the leash and force the party to decide between finishing the job , or risk striking out on their own and playing hero in the short term while having just made a long term enemy. This is sort of plot is best used an adventure or two into the campaign, as the party will have already committed some villainous deeds that one good act can’t blot out.

Next, lets talk about the sort of scenarios you should be looking to avoid when writing an evil campaign:

Around the time I started playing d&d there was this trend of obtusely binary morality systems in videogames which claimed to offer choice but really only existed to let the player chose between the power fantasy of being traditionally virtuous or the power fantasy of being an edgy rebel. Early examples included:

Do you want to steal food from disaster victims? in Infamous

Do you as a space cop assault a reporter who’s being kind of annoying to you? in Mass Effect

Do you blow up an entire town of innocent people for the lols? in Fallout (no seriously check out hbomberguy’s teardowm on fallout 3’s morality system and how critics at the time ate it up)

I think these games, along with the generational backwash of 90s “edge” and 00s “grit” coloured a lot of people's expectations ( including mine) about what a "villain as protagonist" sort of narrative might look like. They're childish exaggerations, devoid of substance, made even worse by how blithely their narratives treat them.

Burn down an inn full of people is not a good quest objective for an evil party, because it forces the characters to reach cartoonish levels of villainy which dissociates them from their players. Force all the villagers into the inn so we can lock them inside and do our job uninterrupted lets the party be bad, but in a way that the players can see the reason behind it and stay synced up with their characters. The latter option also provides a great setup for when the party's actually monstrous overseer sets the inn on fire to get rid of any witnesses after the job is done. Now the party (and their players) are faced with a moral quandary, will they let themselves be accessories to a massacre or risk incurring their manager's wrath? Rather than jumping face first into cackling cruelty, these sorts of quandaries have them dance along the knife's edge between grim practicality and dangerous uncertainly; It brings the player and character closer together.

Finally, lets talk about ending the villain arc:

I don't think you can play a whole evil campaign. Both because the escalation required is narratively unsustainable, but also because the most interesting aspect of playing badguys is the breaking point. Just like heroes inevitably having doubts about whether or not they're doing the right thing, there's only so long that a group of antiheroes can go along KNOWING they're doing the wrong thing before they put their feet down and say "I'm out". I think you plan a evil campaign up until a specific "there's no coming back from this" storybeat, IE letting the Inn burn... whether or not the party allows it to happen, it's the lowest point the narrative will allow them to reach before they either fight back or allow themselves to be subsumed. If they rebel, you play out the rest of the arc dismantling the machine they helped to build, taking joy in its righteous destruction. If they keep going along, show them what they get for being cogs: inevitably betrayed, sacrificed, or used as canon fodder when the real heroes step in to do their jobs for them.

Art

#dm tip #dm tips #writing advice #evil party #drafting the adventure #dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #blades in the dark #ttprg #pathfinder

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