Tumgik
#TOME OF BLOOD (OFFICIAL CONTENT);
skxrbrand · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Age of Sigmar: Malign Portents
Tl;Dr - Every God pissed off and/or afraid about Nagash coming back
30 notes · View notes
kharrneth · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
Ah yes, more evidence of Khorne being a dog in a suit of armor
7 notes · View notes
slaanxsh · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
N’kari has so much clout that he summoned Khornate Daemons to do his personal bidding
3 notes · View notes
deejadabbles · 6 months
Note
Hiiii friend!! wanted to request a spooky prompt number 6 and 😈 with Fives please and thank you!!
Hello darling!! Thank you for sending this in, I was very inspired the moment I read it so I hope you enjoy this 🤩 This one also got a little ~heated~ since Fives had officially become one of my faves 😏
How to Summon A Demon Boyfriend (Demon!Fives x GN Reader)
Summary: There's no such thing as demons, they're just something to use for cheesy cautionary tales...Right? Rating: M (Minors DNI) Word Count: 1,813 Warnings: Crappy 'friends', small injury and mentions of blood, reader gets a big scare but it's fine in the end I promise, heavily suggestive content. Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up  /// AO3
Tumblr media
You really needed to learn to say no sometimes.
Tonight was supposed to be the perfect chance to curl up on the couch in your favorite PJs and coziest blanket. Instead, you were freezing your ass off in a dark playground, pretending to summon a demon like some bored teenager. 
Cam and you weren’t even that close, just work buddies, but that little voice inside your head had been yelling too loud: 'he was really sweet and invited you! You have to go! It would be rude not to!' Now you were annoyed with every moment of this silly little seance.
“Alright, I think that should do it!” said the cute blonde girl, who you didn’t know before tonight. You didn’t know any of Cam’s friends, yet here you were with them. “I think it’s a good little summoning circle, if I do say so myself!” She beamed down at the chalk drawing she’d sketched onto the area usually reserved for hopscotch. 
Then another one of Cam’s friends, a young man with dark hair fit for a punk band, voiced your own thoughts, “This is stupid, what makes you think we can summon a demon from some random book you found in a second hand store?”
“Dude, I’m telling you, if anything’s the real deal, it’s this!” Cam insisted, cautiously taking the book from the blonde and flipping a page, “I mean, just look at this!” He tilted it towards you and the punk guy, “The ancient looking paper, the notes and stains- plus, the store owner said she got it from her friend when he died and that his family was into all kinds of strange occult shit.”
You would admit, it was a very convincing tome, even if the demon summoning was all fiction, the owner had put lots of work into its design. You reached out to touch the edge of the page, to see if it really did feel ancient, but just as you did Cam moved as well and a sharp pain seared through your finger tip.
With a loud hiss and a curse you pulled your hand back, clutching it close to your chest.
“Shit- sorry!” Cam said, “Paper cut?”
“Yeah,” you muttered, taking a tentative peak at the now throbbing finger. It was leaking red, the skin around it looking angry, and you noticed part of the offending page was now stained with your blood too. Well, at least it added to the book’s authentic aesthetic. 
“Wow, didn’t know we’d be making blood sacrifices tonight,” the blonde said with a laugh.
“Happy to contribute,” was your sarcastic reply as you tried to soothe the throbbing. “Next time I-”
“Uh, guys!” Cam’s eyes were wide as he looked down at the book, “The words are glowing!” Then he let out a high pitched yelp, and dropped the book as if it had burned him.
With a loud thud, it landed on the summoning circle and that’s when you saw that the curving calligraphy on the pages were indeed glowing! Not only that, but the moment it touched the chalked symbols, the ground below you started to rumble unlike any earthquake you had ever seen.
Cam and blondie yelped as they fell to the ground together, you not keeping your balance for much longer, and punk kid only staying upright when he threw himself on a picnic table.
“What the hell is happening?!” the girl yelled, pulling the hood of her jacket up as if that would shield her from the horrors unfolding.
“You’re the ones who wanted to summon a demon!” Punk shouted, looking pale and ready to hurl as the ground continued to shake.
Then, within the circle, the already cracked and worn cement split apart. Chunks of it flew as old compacted dirt from beneath surged to the surface, making way for something else.
It wasn’t a man- “man” didn’t begin to describe it. Clawed hands reached towards the sky, lifting above a head of dark curls that did little to hide two large horns. Dark skin around tight muscles that flexed as he rose up from the earth, a bare chest with marks that might have been tattoos, and a blue kilt of some sort that made room for a swaying tail.
Paralyzed on the ground as you were, all you could do was watch with wide eyes as the demon stretched, and let out a roar of a yawn as if waking from a deep sleep. Then his eyes flashed open, revealing deep brown irises rimmed in red.
He scanned them over your little petrified group and, for some reason, your stunned brain noticed the dumbest little detail. 'Oh, he has a number five tattooed on his forehead. Wonder what that means'.
That’s when the demon pulled his lips back in a dastardly grin, revealing large fangs surely made to rip apart human flesh.
“Run,” he growled.
Somebody screamed. Someone else cried some sort of plea. But you couldn’t say anything, all noise dying in your throat as you rolled over and tried to scramble to your feet. Just as you started to, someone (Cam?) knocked into you and sent you tumbling back to the dirt painfully. Footsteps thundered around you and, looking up, you realized that the other three were already disappearing into the darkness as they ran, leaving you behind.
“Wait-” the pleading call was lost in the wind, just as something behind you took a loud step closer.
Somehow your brain was going a mile a minute and not thinking anything at all as you became painfully aware of the large, looming presence closing in on you. Body unable to move from fear, all you could do was listen as the demon let out a low, deep chuckle.
“Some friends you have,” he purred. “Leaving you here.” Something brushed along your back. “All alone.” Leaves rustled as he knelt above you. “With me.” Hot breath fanned against your ear.
A noise very close to a squeal left you as a hand grabbed your shoulder and rolled you over onto your back. You were face to face with the demon now, his arms caging you in on either side, his face hovering over yours, and still sporting that hungry grin as his dark eyes looked you over slowly.
“P-please don’t kill me,” it came out as little more than a wheeze, but at least you managed to say something.
That’s when those brilliant eyes snapped back to yours. There was a heartbeat of silence in which you went through a thousand different ‘this is the end’ scenarios in your head-
But then, the demon threw his head back and laughed!
It wasn’t a sinister, cruel laugh either. Instead it was light and, dare you say, joyful. The kind of laugh a loved one would make after you mentioned some inside joke or another. His broad shoulders shook and that tail of his swished behind him in a way that reminded you of a cat ready to play.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he gasped between laughs, “I didn’t mean to scare you that bad!” He leaned back some then, as if to give you some air, though his arms were still on either side of you. “See, that’s just a little act I do to give you humans a scare.” This time, the grin he flashed was playful and a little lopsided. “You have to admit, you kind of deserve it for yanking me out of my cozy little dimension. It’s a little annoying when you don’t expect to be summoned.”
You opened your mouth, now stunned in a completely different way, but no sound was ready to come out yet, apparently.
That didn’t deter the demon, though, his eyes searched your face when he said, “Course, I did want to scare off the others. Groups are always more annoying, and I kinda liked the idea of having you to myself once I saw how cute you are.”
The unexpected statement caused you to come back down from your fearful high a little. You blinked a few times, then found it in yourself to look him in the eyes more directly. You managed to stutter out a “Wha-what?”
The demon laughed again, a shorter one this time, “Wow, I really must have done a number on you, I’m sorry, mesh’la.” He held up a hand, though the black claws at his fingertips almost made you flinch. “I swear, I’m not going to kill you. Even if I was that type of demon, there’s no challenge in killing humans,” he winked, “you’re too soft and supple.”
Heat took over your face and you weren’t sure if it was annoyance, embarrassment, or something else. Probably a cocktail of the three. After a deep, steadying breath, you finally managed to say something more than a strangled noise or single word.
“So, you’re some kind of good demon?”
He shrugged those naked, now very distracting, shoulders. “Something like that. Mostly, I’m just here to fulfill whatever contract you want from me.”
“M-Me?”
“Yup.”
“Why me?”
The demon looked down at you with something…interesting in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite place even though his expression was still light. His hand slid down the ground beside your prone body, until it reached your wrist. He grasped it gently, lifting it to show off your still sore cut.
“Because your blood summoned me. You’re the one I’m bound to, sweetheart.”
Keeping his eyes on yours, he brought your finger to his mouth and closed his lips around the bleeding cut. You found yourself breathless again as a wet tongue ran over the little injury, soothing the ache in a way you didn’t expect.
He pulled your finger out of his mouth with a little pop, then turned that fang flashing smirk on you again. “See, you summoned me, now we make some sort of deal, a contract. You give me something and I give you something in return.” He placed your hand on his naked chest so he could pin his own by your head again. “Name’s Fives, by the way, and you are?”
After swallowing the sudden lump in your throat and not feeling any more calm after doing it, you introduced yourself in the firmest tone you could muster. The demon- Fives, repeated your name slowly, and you could see his tongue tasting every letter of it.
“Hm, I like that name,” he said and again, you caught a glimpse of the spade-tipped tail flicking at his back. 
You must have been more distracted by it than you realized, because he brushed the back of a claw down your cheek, before taking your chin in a firm grip to force your eyes back on his. When you did, his gaze seemed just a little darker.
“So, darling, what kind of deal do you want to make with me?”
Tumblr media
Tag List @sev-on-kamino @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5 @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @moonlightwarriorqueen @briefartnaturewolf @kimiheartblade @littlemissbshine @funeralreunion @chubbyhedgehog @ladytano420 @trixie2023 @mssbridgerton @wizardofrozz @vithepotato @mythical-illustrator @loving-the-cambridges
84 notes · View notes
proxima-writes · 1 year
Text
the satanic rites of eddie munson (chapter 4)
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Cheerleader!Female Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)
Read on AO3
Summary:
Eddie was just trying to have a normal Thursday when some band from out of town decides he’d make an excellent virgin sacrifice for their get-famous-quick plan.
Except he’s not a virgin, and the ritual unleashes something much more sinister that lives in him now, hungry for flesh and possessive of you, the pretty cheerleader he’s always been drawn to.
Which means anyone that touches you? Needs to die.
Inspired by the movie Jennifer's Body.
Additional tags: explicit sexual content (no seriously this is filthy 18+), mentions of character death, allusions to SA, stripping, dominant Eddie, dirty talk, pet names, slight degradation, praise kink, overstimulation, begging, mutual masturbation, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, possessive behavior, mild blood/blood kink. If I’ve missed anything, please let me know.
Tumblr media
The guy in the middle starts to read from the tome spread across his hands. His voice shakes, as do his hands, while he butchers what Eddie assumes is Latin. The wind picks up, leaves swirling around their feet and making the fire behind them dance erratically, embers floating up through the low branches.
“Uh, guys,” Eddie says, strugglings against the ropes. “Can’t we talk about this? I really don’t think I’m the kind of sacrifice that you want.”
“Shut the fuck up, man, you’re throwing off Mike’s spell casting. He’s got dyslexia, he needs to concentrate,” the leader snaps.
“Thanks, man,” Mike chimes before resuming his chanting. The ground rumbles beneath him, the leaves shaking with the moving earth and Eddie starts to think that maybe these guys aren’t just weirdos that are full of shit.
The leader flashes Eddie a menacing smile.
“Show time.”
It only took a few hours for Jason’s body to be discovered.
The party had been in full swing when a sheriff’s deputy swung by to bust it and send everyone home. In the scramble, several people tried to run off into the woods and one unlucky bastard tripped over the mangled remains.
You’d fallen asleep in Eddie’s bed by the time he finished in the bathroom. He let you sleep for a couple hours, his body pressed to yours and his arm wound tight around your waist as he listened to your quiet breathing. Around 2 a.m. you’d stirred awake, all soft smiles and cute little sleepy noises until you’d caught a glimpse of the alarm clock on Eddie’s nightstand and jumped from the bed in a panic.
As Eddie drove you and your mom’s bike home, a trio of police cars with their sirens on blew past the van, heading in the opposite direction. You’d twisted in your seat to watch them fly by, missing the way Eddie’s knuckles went white as he gripped the steering wheel.
“Hope everything’s okay,” you’d said distractedly.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Eddie had replied.
Saturday morning, the morning news runs the breaking story of another animal attack. Hawkins High School golden boy, Jason Carver, found mangled in the woods near Benny’s Burgers, near unrecognizable due to his wounds. Disemboweled, his heart ripped from his chest. The town is shocked, heart broken, paranoid.
School gets canceled for the week following the loss while town officials and school board members scramble to make decisions about what to do.
As the week drags on, Eddie begins to anticipate the hunger returning, bracing himself for the aching pit to swallow him whole.
But it doesn’t.
In fact, Eddie feels the best he ever has in his life. His vision is sharper, his hearing more clear, his muscles coiled with a strength he definitely didn’t have before. He’d accidentally crushed a glass of water in his hand, the shards slicing into his palm and leaving blood spattered on the kitchen floor. The wound had healed before he even finished cleaning everything up.
In place of physical hunger is a different craving all together. It’s been over a week since that night in his trailer where he made you cum on his lap. He sees your rapturous expression every time he closes his goddamn eyes. If he doesn’t see you soon, touch you soon, he’s going to go insane.
The Monday following the discovery of their son’s body, the Carvers and the Pearsons stand beside Principal Higgins at an impromptu assembly, dabbing their tear filled eyes with tissues as they insist that the school continue the time honored tradition of the homecoming game and dance despite their loss.
“It’s what our sons would have wanted. They gave their all to this school, and would have been dancing and playing alongside you had their lives not been so tragically cut short,” Mr. Carver says into the microphone, an arm around Mrs. Carver as she sniffles demurely into a tissue.
Principal Higgins leads a tentative round of applause. Eddie rolls his eyes, searching the lower bleachers for a glimpse of you. You’re down in the front row with the rest of the cheerleaders, an arm around Chrissy Cunningham’s waist.
Principal Higgins lets Officer Pearson close out the assembly with a rousing speech about keeping the town safe with increased patrols around the wooded areas, promising that no other Hawkins High student will befall the same fate as his son.
“And if anyone sees something, remember to say something,” he finishes. The families take their leave and Principal Higgins dismisses everyone, the gym erupting with the sounds of a couple hundred voices trying to be heard above each other.
Eddie hides beneath the bleachers, eyes scanning the crowd of students passing by him. He catches sight of you and leans out of the shadows, grabbing you by the wrist and tugging you against him with a hand over your mouth to stifle your surprise.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers against your ear. As you relax against him, he removes his hand and turns you so that you’re facing him. “Miss me?”
“No, I don’t think so,” you tease. Eddie’s grin is sharp as his hands grip your ass, lifting you up and urging your legs around his waist as he presses you against the back wall of the gym.
“That’s not very nice,” he whispers against your neck. “Do I have to remind you why you should?”
He presses his hips against yours, the pressure working the seam of your jeans right over your clit. You bite your lip to hold back your groan, the sharp tang of copper blooming on your tongue.
“Shit,” you hiss, touching a finger to your lip. Eddie eyes the red spot on the digit held between you. He works a hand free to grasp your wrist, bringing the finger to his mouth and sucking gently.
He locks eyes with you as he moans gently at the taste exploding across his tongue. Your eyes are wide as he draws back before he leans forward to kiss you, licking greedily at your split lip. You kiss him back eagerly, writhing against him as he swallows your sounds.
It’s not until the gym doors slam shut behind the last student do you remember where you are, the spell broken as you wiggle in Eddie’s grasp to be set down. His hands remain planted on your hips and he can’t help the pout that he gives you as you straighten your shirt.
“Sorry I haven’t been able to see you,” you say, hands toying with a pin on his denim vest. “With everything happening, the girls are really freaked out. And Chrissy is obviously upset about Jason.”
“Damn you for being such a good friend.” He slides a hand behind your neck to pull you close again for another kiss, another hint of blood against his tongue.
“I can’t believe they’re still going to have the dance,” you continue when Eddie pulls away. “I thought for sure they’d cancel it.” When Eddie doesn’t say anything, you fidget with the zipper on his jacket before murmuring, “So…”
“So…?” Eddie asks.
“Are you…going to go? To homecoming?”
Eddie smiles tightly. “I can’t. Don’t got the grades to be eligible for tickets.”
Your shoulders slump. “Oh.”
“We could go out instead?” He offers, running his hands up and down your arms.
“I can’t. I’m on the homecoming court, so I have to go.”
Eddie groans, tipping his forehead to yours. “We’ll figure something out,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
—————
Since they’ve announced homecoming is still scheduled, you’ve been slammed with last minute preparations. You’re forced to spend your hours after school prepping decor and banners for spirit week, which starts next week. You miss your small moments with Eddie in his van as he drives you home from school and you talk about anything and everything for the short trip.
“We still going dress shopping after school today?” Carrie asks at lunch, flipping through a Sears catalog. “Do you know what color you’re getting?”
Shit, you think. You forgot about promising to go dress shopping today.
Your eyes find Eddie beyond her shoulder, his eyes already on you. “Black,” you tell her. She makes a face.
“Really? Isn’t Kyle wearing green? Shouldn’t you match?” She asks. That breaks your staring contest with Eddie.
“What?”
“Kyle’s your partner for court. Didn’t Sally tell you?” She pops the gum in her mouth. “He’s stoked about it.”
You groan. “I don’t want to be paired with Kyle. Can’t I be paired with Frankie?” You ask desperately.
Kyle Miller has asked you out countless times. Each time is more aggressive, with the last one being at a house party over the summer where he cornered you alone in a basement. Chrissy was actually the one to get him to back off that time, having come down at just the right moment to scare him off. To everyone else, he comes off as yet another popular jock, disarmingly handsome with a megawatt smile that he knows how to use to his advantage. But all you see is the times he just hasn’t taken no for an answer.
“I don’t see why you won’t just give Kyle a chance. You two would make such a cute couple,” Carrie says.
“He’s not my type,” you reply, eyes flitting once more to Eddie. He’s got one of his freshmen in a playful headlock, a broad smile on his face that makes your heart race.
“Oh, come on! You haven’t been out with anyone since John in sophomore year.”
You shrug. Pulling the magazine from her hands, you flip through the pages, pointing out ones you like for a change in subject.
________
Later that night, you throw your shopping bags on your bed, collapsing beside them. Carrie had managed to drag you to every store in the mall in search of the perfect dress. She found something wrong with every single one she tried on until finally deciding the first dress that she tried on at the first store, hours ago , would be her best choice.
Where your friend’s dress was a bright pink satin and tulle number, you went with a form fitting black dress that reminded you of Audrey Hepburn’s iconic Breakfast at Tiffany’s outfit. Leaning heavily into that inspiration, you’d also purchased a pair of elbow length black satin gloves.
You leverage yourself up from the bed with a groan and begin to put your purchases away. Your parents are away for the night, having gone to visit your mom’s sister for the weekend, leaving the house quiet.
Which is why you scream bloody murder when there’s a knock on your window.
You can just make out Eddie’s mischievous grin beyond the dark glass as you stomp over and throw the window open, smacking him on the shoulder as he climbs over the windowsill. “You asshole!”
He grabs your wrist tightly, tugging you close as he wraps his arm around your waist. You tilt your head up as he leans down to press a rough kiss to your lips. The hunger he comes at you with is a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. You wrap your own arms around his shoulders, fingers diving into his wild hair to hold him to you.
He groans against your mouth, giving you the opportunity to slide your tongue against his. That arm around your waist slides lower, his hand gripping your ass roughly before he lands a hard smack to one cheek that makes you gasp.
“Hey, baby,” he says, voice low and eyes dark. He looks over your shoulder. “You find yourself a dress?”
The abrupt change leaves you winded. When you recover you finally reply, “Yeah, you wanna see it?” You grab the plastic wrapped dress from the bed, intent on heading to the bathroom with it to change.
“Where ya goin’?” Eddie asks, taking a seat on your bed and reclining back on his elbows like he belongs there.
“I was…gonna change?”
His grin is salacious. “You could do that right here.”
_________
Eddie is practically vibrating with the need to touch you. You’re standing there in your room, looking like a deer caught in the headlights with your eyes all wide in surprise at his suggestion that you change into your dress in front of him.
He can hear your heart rate speed up, see the rush of blood to your cheeks. He licks his lips.
“Take your clothes off,” he commands.
You hang the dress on the hook on the back of your door before tentatively curling your fingers into the hem of your shirt. Eddie gives you an encouraging nod as you slowly lift the fabric over your head.
He’s pleased to note that the flush in your cheeks trails down your chest. “Tell me, does that pretty little dress work with that?”
“Work with…what?”
“That bra.” You shake your head. “Then lose it, too.”
You swallow nervously before reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and drop to the floor. Eddie sits up at attention, adjusting his jeans to relieve the pressure building at his crotch.
Christ, you’re so pretty. You look good enough to eat.
“Now the pants,” he directs. Your fingers slip nervously on the button of your pants. “Come here.”
You take a tentative step closer. When he can reach out, he slips a finger into your waistband and tugs sharply, pulling you closer on unsteady feet. He keeps his eyes focused on your face as he undoes your fly.
“Go ahead, baby,” he whispers. “Take ‘em off.”
“Eddie—“
“Shh, sweetheart. Just do as you’re told,” he interrupts. Your breathing is ragged as you shimmy your jeans over your hips, letting them pool around your feet. “That’s it, good girl.”
_________
Your mouth goes dry at Eddie’s words, a shiver running up your spine as his fingertips trail lightly over your thighs. His eyes are still locked on yours, which somehow makes you feel more vulnerable than if they were roving your naked body.
“Should I…put the dress on?” You whisper.
Eddie smirks. “No, princess. I’ve got bigger plans.” He wraps an arm around your waist and faster than you can realize what’s happening, you find yourself on your back, blinking up at the ceiling in surprise.
“My, my,” Eddie continues, body looming over yours, “You look like a feast, baby.”
The wording he’s chosen throws you off. His body blocks out some of the light from above you, casting his features in shadows that make him seem…dangerous. Eyes darker than they should be, teeth sharper.
Like a predator.
His head dips down, tongue tracing the dip in your collarbone and your racing thoughts come to a screeching halt as you gasp out his name. He licks a path to your neck, teeth scraping against the thin skin that protects your pulse.
“Pretty, pretty girl,” he murmurs. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Touch me,” you breathe out. You can feel his smile against your neck.
“I am touching you,” he says, kisses trailing lower until he’s trailing his mouth over your breasts. You arch your back, seeking more.
His lips circle one of your pebbled nipples, drawing it into his mouth with a rough pull that makes you moan. A hand is immediately gripping your other breast in balance to the attention of his tongue on your sensitive flesh.
“Eddie!”
“That’s right, baby,” he says before switching sides. Your hips writhe beneath him, seeking friction you can’t find. You let out a pitiful whine. “Hush.”
You bite your lip painfully hard to comply with his command. His hand leaves your breast, sliding down until his fingers are rubbing over the slick fabric of your panties.
“You’re so fuckin’ wet, that all for me?” He asks.
“Don’t see anyone else here,” you tease. Eddie lands a gentle smack to your sensitive pussy in retaliation.
“Damn right there’s not anyone else here,” he snaps, not unkindly. “Because this is all mine, isn’t it sweetheart? This soaking wet cunt is dripping just for me.”
“Oh, god,” you cry out as Eddie’s fingers slip past the elastic around your waist, diving into your wet heat. “Eddie, please!”
Your hips chase his hand as his fingers curl against you in their retreat, the slick sound of his hand exploring your pussy filling the room. His lips press to yours to swallow your desperate noises as he rubs your clit in tight circles.
A ripping noise breaks through your consciousness, and your eyes pop open. You tear your mouth from Eddie’s and lift your head to see the mangled remains of your panties clutched in his fist.
“Whoops. Sorry,” he says, looking anything but apologetic. His lips continue to drag down, down, down until he’s lying flat on his belly between your thighs.
Eddie uses a hand on your thigh to push your legs apart, shouldering his way closer until you can feel his breath against your heated skin. You squirm against his hold, the attention he’s giving you almost too much.
“Anyone ever kissed you here before, baby?” Eddie asks.
“N-no,” you stutter. You’re not a virgin, haven’t been since sophomore year when you had a lackluster experience with your then-boyfriend that lasted approximately three pumps and ended in plenty of disappointment. While you don’t have any first hand experience with what Eddie’s offering, you’ve read about it. The women’s magazines and erotic books you sneak from your mom’s stash discuss it in great detail.
“That’s a shame,” he says, pressing a kiss to one thigh, then the other, all while keeping his eyes fixed to yours. Your breathing kicks up, chest heaving with the anticipation of his mouth connecting where you’re most desperate for him. “A pussy like this deserves to be worshiped.”
Your head drops back with a groan as he licks through your folds, moaning at the taste. His tongue circles your clit before dipping to your leaking entrance, greedily gathering the essence of you. The sounds that come from Eddie are animalistic, deep growls and low rumbles that if you were in the right state of mind and not rocketing towards an orgasm you would find them terrifying.
His hands tighten around your legs to pin you in place as your hips work in tandem with his mouth. Those dark eyes peek up at you, but you can barely keep your own open long enough to watch. You dig your hands into his hair in ecstasy, holding him to you as his relentless pace continues.
“Eddie, Eddie,” you cry out. That grip on your hips gets damn near painful, the bite of his nails into your skin aching. “Please, please, please!”
“Please what, princess?” He rumbles, mouth never leaving your dripping core.
“Please, fuck me,” you beg, hardly recognizing your own desperate voice.
“No, baby, you’re gonna come in my mouth like a good fucking girl,” he growls, doubling down on his efforts. Your back arches from the bed as you press your hips to his skilled mouth. “That’s it, come on pretty girl, come for me.”
With a scream, you do as you’re told, your release washing over you like a tidal wave that never stops. His tongue keeps up its pace against your clit, sending additional little shocks that make you see stars.
“Oh my god,” you cry, practically sobbing as he doesn’t let up. “Eddie!”
You can feel the feral grin he hides against your flesh. His tongue slows until he’s giving you one last lick and sitting up, looking all too pleased with himself.
“Wanna see you,” you slur. You’re a boneless puddle in the middle of your mattress, squirming around on the wet spot you’ve left behind on the sheets. “Please?”
“Since you asked so nicely,” he replies, unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them low enough that he can pull his cock out. You can’t look away from him as he leisurely strokes his thick length, a pearl of precum pooling at the tip. You reach a hand out to try to touch him, but he bats it away. “Just watch, princess.”
You pout, but do as you’re told, eyeing him hungrily. Your eyes alternate between watching his face screwed up in pleasure and watching his hand as it flies roughly up and down his cock, your mouth watering at the sight. You squirm, bringing a hand between your legs to rub at your oversensitive clit.
“Greedy fucking girl,” he groans, but he does nothing to stop you. “Already came once but desperate for more.”
You nod, unable to form the words to respond. Your motions are sloppy, hips bucking beneath your hand as he leans forward, bringing your bodies closer but not touching, making you whine.
“Quiet, baby, I’ll take what’s mine when the time is right,” he grunts, his pace stuttering as he nears his release. “Until then, be my good girl and say my fucking name.”
“Eddie!” You cry, your second orgasm breaking across your nerves. He growls and you swear his eyes go pitch black as he comes, his spend landing on your tummy in hot splashes. He works his cock until it starts to soften and he flops beside you on the bed, dragging your sweat damp body back against his.
When you’ve finally caught your breath, you wiggle around to face him. His eyes are back to that sweet soft brown that you love so much, like coffee with a splash of milk. He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“You didn’t even see my dress,” you say with a pout.
“Don’t worry, I’ll see it at the dance.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “You said you couldn’t get tickets.”
He smirks at you. “Who said anything about buying a ticket?”
153 notes · View notes
the-mukami-library · 6 months
Text
The Mukamis
⚠️ Please note that Diabolik Lovers has very mature themes. Hence this blog is 18+ and includes NSFW and TW content. Proceed at your own risk. ⚠️
This blog reblogs content relating to the Mukami brothers from Diabolik Lovers. Sometimes there might be original content from the admin.
Some parts of the blog are still under construction but the links will be added when those parts are ready.
Ask box: Open
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Rules
Be respective and don't spread hate
Do not spam the inbox or submissions
No NSFW asks from minors
No asks about incest, rape, pedophilia, religion, or politics
No asks that have any kind of hate speech
No jealousy or fandom drama
Tumblr media
Route and Drama CD Translations
Ruki || Kou || Yuuma || Azusa
Tumblr media
Art & Literature
Official || Fan Art || Fan Fiction || OC Routes
Tumblr media
Tags in Use
If you are uncomfortable with any of the topics below, please mute the relevant tags to avoid seeing content that isn’t to your liking.
#mukami brothers - anything related to all brothers
#ruki's library - Ruki-related posts
#kou's lyrics - Kou-related posts
#yuuma's garden - Yuuma-related posts
#azusa's knives - Azusa-related posts
#with eve - any of the brothers with Yui
#alternative love - any of the brothers with Diabolik Lovers OCs
#forbidden room - potentially triggering content like abuse, blood, non-con, dub-con, self-harm
#poison bottles - toxic relationship behavior (possessiveness, jealousy, etc.)
#late hours - 18+ sexual content
#official - official art from Rejet (CGs, screenshots, etc.)
#art gallery - fan art, edits, etc.
#tome archive - fanfics etc.
Tumblr media
Divider from enchatings
Profile picture - official art from Rejet
Header and sprite on the pinned post edited from Rejet's original art by Admin
Tumblr media
Admin
@afi-mukami / @yuriko-mukami
she/her
25+
Note: This is a side blog. So, I can’t follow you back.
24 notes · View notes
longdetroit · 2 years
Text
Propnight characters
Tumblr media
#Propnight characters update
#Propnight characters free
Belly Flop: The Deadite Elite will belly flop on the ground, inflicting damage to anyone nearby.
Deadite Smash: Deadite Elites will charge forward and perform a ground smash that damages nearby Survivors.
Big Swing: This is a 180 degree swing that deals heavy damage to Survivors.
Belly Flop: Henrietta will belly flop on the ground, inflicting damage to anyone nearby.
Gas Leak: Henrietta will leave a trail of toxic fumes.
#Propnight characters free
Other Survivors must attack Henrietta to free their teammate.
Granny Hug: Henrietta will trap and squeeze a Survivors head.
Both Demons and other enemies in Evil Dead: The Game look frightful, that's for sure. Led by Henrietta, Warlords are ideal for those jumping into the game unsure of where to start, as their abilities are straight-forward and your focus will be on assaulting players with weapons, projectiles, and fumes at all times. These Demons are boisterous and unruly, and are intent on causing havoc. Warlords simply don't mess around, sometimes tearing their own limbs off in the fight to stop the Survivors. Each Demon class is made up of one 'boss' so to speak and accompanying Deadites, meaning that you'll have to control four enemies simultaneously. This should hopefully help with finding which Demon will work for you!Īll the characters - Survivors or Demons - in Evil Dead: The Game are broken down into classes. We've broken down each Demon in Evil Dead: The Game, and explained what their units abilities and skills are, as well as how they play out. For Demons, without any allies or support, choosing which Demon to play as can feel especially daunting. We'll bring you more on this as soon as we get it.Evil Dead: The Game hosts a large roster of characters to pick from. Between this, Dead By Daylight, and games like the still frequently-updated Back 4 Blood featuring asymmetrical multiplayer modes, it looks like people aren't getting tired of hunting their friends down in a variety of gleefully sadistic ways. Survivors can turn into props to help them hide from killers, who must hunt them and figure out where they're hiding. It's best thought of as a mixture of Prop Hunt and an asymmetric game like Dead By Daylight (which recently got a new Tome update, if you haven't caught up with it yet). Propnight is a multiplayer survival game with Prop Hunt-style mechanics. You could get to explore this new map in the next Propnight update, although we're not entirely sure.
#Propnight characters update
Otherwise, you'll have to wait a few days for the update to officially go live on Steam. If you're a fan of the game, you can join its Discord channel and get access to the public test branch of Propnight so you can check out the new update right now. The latest Propnight update launches on February 16th. You'll be able to play the new content coming as part of this new Propnight update (whatever that content may end up being) next week. When does this new Propnight update launch? Hopefully, you'll get to try out these new killers and this new map in the Propnight update next week, but we'll have to wait and see. In addition, the information about the new killers and map comes after the new update's release date announcement, implying that all of these things are coming in a future update instead. However, the announcement does say Fntastic is "working on" these aspects, and a trailer for one of the new killers says she's coming "soon". It's worth saying that although we're pretty sure this content will be included in the update, there is some room for doubt. The Steam announcement for the update seems to imply the two killers and the new map will be part of it, as Fntastic has shared images of all three without saying they'll be added in a future patch. The map looks to be a rather atmospheric gothic location with crows circling a farmhouse, which is the perfect location for some grisly goings-on. The other killer is Sheet-man, who is, as the name implies, a man wearing a Halloween-style ghost costume. The first killer is as-yet unnamed, but she looks pretty creepy she's got an anime-inspired goth girl aesthetic and a knife (obviously), as well as a scar across her mouth. In addition to these two new major mechanics, the next Propnight update is adding two new killers and an extra map. The jury's out on whether Sheet-man here will be added in the new Propnight update or not.
Tumblr media
0 notes
sezja · 2 years
Text
Febuwhump Day 2: Failed Rescue Attempt Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Ship: Sanson Smyth/Guydelot Thildonnet Triggers/Content warnings: Major character death
Guydelot's blood is still pounding in his ears as he sprints through the autumn-dappled trees of the North Shroud, going as fast as he can; it was chance alone that he overheard a pair of Adder scouts mention the intel that Nourval and his cronies were lurking in the relics of Dalamud. He'd taken off running and hasn't stopped since. Vorsaile'd yelled something after him, but damn the man anyway - he's an Adder, after all, and not a damn one of 'em cares about Sanson.
Sanson. Sanson. I'll be there soon.
All that matters is getting there before the Twin Adder does. Getting past the sentries shouldn't be too hard, right? Then it's just Nourval...
I never should've agreed to bring the bastard along. This is all my doing, ain't it? He'd been the one who laughed at Nourval's boldness, tricking the Order into sending out a unit to search for the damn tome... or, as it turned out, just to get him an excuse past Baelsar's Wall. Sanson hadn't wanted to bring a civilian along, but-
Guydelot clenches his jaw so hard his teeth creak. He's gonna put an arrow right into Nourval's smug eye. What he wouldn't give to have Eve here, though; he couldn't afford to wait for her to turn up in Gridania. Couldn't take the time to go ask Jehantel for more last-minute advice. No, it's down to him, just him, but then, maybe one man can slip past the defenses better than two...
An arrow punches into the ground at his feet, and he skids abruptly to a stop. Two archers emerge from seemingly out of nowhere.
Damn it all. He'd gotten careless.
"Drop your weapon," the nearest calls, leveling his own bow at Guydelot's heart. "Your friend yet lives, but do aught careless-"
Guydelot draws and fires, cutting the man off with an arrow to the throat. He hadn't aimed; anger and instinct hone him into a weapon he scarcely recognizes. Sanson. Fear makes him cold; he prepares to turn his bow on the remaining archer-
But by then the enemy has already recovered from the death of his companion, and fires an arrow of his own; it takes Guydelot in the shoulder. Any lower and it might have pierced his heart, not that he suspects he'd feel it, with his heart already one desperate ache; he scarcely feels this one, though the blood pools around the arrow. He wrenches it out, not hesitating to fit it to his own bow and fire.
The alarm has sounded, though, and even with the slaying of the two sentries, his path has grown harder.
Damn it all. Rolling his aching shoulder - he'll patch that up later - he dives into the hive.
A skilled bard, a skilled archer, but he's only one man; he's no Warrior of Light, no hero skilled at picking apart armies. By the time they drag him before Nourval, Guydelot is riddled with arrows and the ungentle kisses of blades and lances; his coat is more red than turquoise.
It's nearly worth it, just to see Sanson again.
Sanson's eyes are awful, too painful to gaze into for long; the despair in them is painful... yet Guydelot can't look away. How could he?
I've doomed us both, Chief. But I couldn't stand by and do nothing. You understand, right? I couldn't just let it happen.
He'd say it if he could, all the things he's never said. He can't seem to find words. Pathetic, a bard without words...
"Well! This is unexpected. I hope you weren't sent to deliver the Gridanians' answer," Nourval says, kneeling down to get a closer look at the battered bard. "I had hoped you might have more care for your friend."
He's my whole godsdamned world, and there's not a damn thing I can do to save him.
Guydelot manages to spit in Nourval's face. Grimacing, the man wipes away the glob of spittle and blood, then stands. "Well. Not an official messenger then, I suppose-"
"Nourval-" Sanson's voice, strained. Terrified; has Guydelot ever heard him truly frightened before now? "Nourval, you don't truly want to do this-"
"He's no use to me," Nourval explains, as though speaking to a child. Horror prickles over Guydelot's skin as reality dawns: Nourval means to kill him, before Sanson's eyes. Until the Adders move, Sanson still has use as a hostage... at least until Nourval realizes they have no intention of playing along. Does he even know the Adders don't have the journal?
Oddly hilarious, that. Good thing he'd hidden it. Now no one will find the damn thing.
"Please," Sanson tries again, struggling against his bonds. "Nourval, please don't harm him; he's only-"
"I suggest you look away," Nourval says, almost kindly. Almost.
But Sanson can't. And neither can Guydelot.
"Sanson-"
And then the lance pierces his heart.
25 notes · View notes
tedturneriscrazy · 3 years
Text
Another Saturday, another episode! Let's take a look at Keeping Up A-fear-ances!
(Good lord I'm starting to make myself sound like some sort of content creator)
Oh, okay, we're just starting at that level of intensity, huh?
Chest gem origins
Gwendolyn not being satisfied with managing the curse and determined to cure it? I'm sure this won't be a real world allegory in the slightest.
Oh, so Eda literally just stumbles upon the portal? I could call that contrived, but honestly it's not dissimilar to how Dipper found Journal 3. For that matter, the entirety of Lord of the Rings is predicated on an accidental discovery like this and nobody gave Tolkien shit about it.
Was the eye on the portal cracked in previous episodes? I don't remember.
Seems like Gwen is the "well-meaning but ultimately misguided" flavor of mom.
As an aside, I am now quite curious about how Eda's first trip to the human realm went. Maybe a future episode will cover it? At any rate, I smell a new favorite fic prompt.
The screaming alarms in the Demon Realm will never not be funny to me.
Also, that is a worrying number of hearts. Eda is straight up murdering these poor creatures.
For some reason the gold fang being removable never occurred to me as a possibility, and now I feel like a kid who's discovered that Santa isn't real.
Oh hey, the new outfit! I'm also impressed how close to symmetrical that tearing was.
I need to get a screencap of Luz sleeping on that stack of books because she is adorable.
Also, staying up all night researching? This season seems determined to completely eradicate the notion of Luz being dumb, and I am here for it.
I have a feeling the Hexside mug will be making its way to The Mystery Shack in the near future.
Lilith's first experience with transformation and she seems understandably horrified.
The curse acting stronger when stressed? That seems...important.
Ah, so the dismemberment is from the curse! A surprisingly useful side effect from what we've seen so far.
Can I just say that I appreciate how Eda's reaction to Lilith's first taste of transformation is immediate remedy, explanation, and reassurance? And doesn't make any snarky comments along the lines of "now you know what it's like?" Whatever happened in that week and a half must have been cathartic as hell.
"Always. Always curious." Luz is the TOH fandom.
(Also, Eda, you know she is, considering how much she went on about your "mysterious past" at the Covention)
"Magic bird tornado?!" Luz has a way with words that's just *chef's kiss*.
"Gwendolyn." Eda is already just fucking done.
"MOM?!?!" Jeez, Lilith, you're just now hearing all this?
I was charmed by how motherly Gwen was acting toward Eda, but then she kinda just...dismissed Lilith, and now I'm somehwat less charmed.
(Sweet flea as a term of endearment is kinda cute, though might have some unfortunate implications depending on how you want to interpret it)
"Who knows what they put in those nasty concoctions?" OH WE GOING FOR THE ANTI-VAXXERS NOW YESSSS
Luz and Lilith's reaction to that whole exchange is priceless.
Everyone's perspective here makes perfect sense for who they are and what they've been through.
Poor Lilith. Her cursing Eda is beginning to make more sense.
Ah, thus begins the collaboration.
"We'll be consulting someone very special." Why does that seem so...ominous?
Is there anyone who watched this episode for the first time whose bullshit detector didn't go off immediately when Gwen mentioned finding someone who promised a cure?
Heh, Palm Stings.
Nonbelievers will be blinded by the power of the tome? I'm sure they will be, Wartlop.
I must say, as something of a scientist myself (okay that's not true, I'm a QA tech for a food manufacturer, but I do have a chemistry degree), I am 100% here for the swings being taken at faith healing/"miracle" cures/anti-vaxxers in this episode
Oh, we Wile E. Coyote now, huh?
Also, interesting how much apple blood is being played up in this episode.
Lilith please you're projecting your mommy issues on a literal child
OH WE REALLY JUST WILE E. COYOTE HUH?
You're right, Luz, Gwen's bicep game is goals.
(Somewhat disappointed the scars are from questing and not beastkeeping, but eh)
Why do I get the feeling there's gonna be a future episode where everybody stages an intervention for Eda's apple blood problem?
"Those feathers mean we're driving the beast out" Gwen no
Hooty is holding the brain cell? Oh no...
If that ice cream came from the Night Market it would explain why Lilith sounds drunk.
(Side note: I can't be the only one getting flashbacks to Mermista's ice cream binge, right? Different context, but still)
"Abomi-berry" "Franken fruit" "Key slime pie" These are A+ flavor names.
Oh, there's the transformation...
I must say that whole segment kinda rubbed me the wrong way. The way King's opinion on his dad was changed seemed...I don't know how to describe it. I get that they needed a trigger for Lilith's transformation, but honestly if any part of the episode is contrived it's this.
"¡It really is that good!" So that's what an accent slip in written form looks like. (The upside down exclamation point is used in Spanish, in case anyone didn't know)
I keep half expecting Eda to say "Beep! Beep!" at this point.
Luz is finally asking questions. Took long enough.
Ah, the classic "moving the goal posts to extract more money from a desparate family member" technique.
Luz channeling Scorpion, we love to see it.
There is an exquisite irony in Eda's mom being scammed, I must say.
Ah, so that's where the elixirs went. Dammit, Gwen.
Luz is definitely thinking "Are you fucking kidding me right now?!"
Beast!Lilith is massive.
"Sweet flea?" Gwen just realized she done goofed.
"I can see you still need a little time." God Luz is so fucking smart.
The con revealed.
OH DAMN SCARY MAMA
(Also I am terrified of bees/wasps, so extra scary mama in my book)
The scam is revealed, goblins, getting back into the Wartlop disguise is kinda pointless.
She joined the Beast Keeping coven entirely to cure the curse? That's dedication. A shame you couldn't have spared some of that for Lilith.
Still, I do like badass scary mama Gwen. I'd be down to see more of that.
Owl Beast fight!
I am slayed by the fact that the portraits are now officially a recurring gag 😂
Aw, here's The Moment™️
"My turn to drive" Does this imply cars are a thing on the Boiling Isles after all?
Lilith crying almost immediately💔 She was holding onto a lot of pain.
Yes, King, she was trying to do her best. I mean, road to hell or whatever, but at least Gwen got there in the end.
WHAT?! YOU'RE BREAKING UP LULU AND HOOTCIFER?!?!?!?
Terrace, that's just cruel. (Worthless brownie points for whoever understands that reference)
No, seriously, you can't just give me my favorite inter-character relationship in the series after Lumity and just...take it away like that, come on! 😭😭😭😭😭😭
I know I should remark on how Lilith told Gwen about the circumstances of the curse, how Gwen rightfully accepted responsibility for the whole situation, and how Luz finds the big hair aspirational, but...NOOOO DON'T END THE ADVENTURES OF LULU AND HOOTCIFER WHYYYYYYYYY💔😭💔😭💔😭
"BUT I CAN'T HOLD A PEN!"
I will never emotionally recover from this.
Okay, I think I got that out of my system. Anyway...
Not the only human, huh? Cue the "Belos is a human" theorists going into maximum overdrive.
That said, a tantalizing lore dump.
We certainly do have a lot of garbage. Some of it even holds office. HEY-O!
Setting up the next episode, too. Continuity!
Camp's over, huh? That means it's been three months.
Way to misdirect with Camila, guys. That said, we have now seen Camila cry and I HATE it. (In the right way, I think)
WHAT THE FUCK
HOLY SHIT
CREEPY LUZ IS REAL WHAT
OWJEIWHQGIWWOPQ
(It's hard to keysmash on a phone, even with autocorrect off)
That wraps it up! The flaws in this episode seem more pronounced than any others in the season so far, but the good stuff was really good! Overall a solid episode! I know everybody's looking forward to library Lumity in the next one (so am I), but I'm personally eager to see what they do with Gus. His part is the A plot, after all.
Anyway, I'll be back at this next week! Still hard to believe this is a thing, but that's life, I guess.
48 notes · View notes
fandom-puff · 4 years
Text
Sneaking Around
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader Requested by: @queenofmankind​ Prompts: // Summary: Draco and the reader intend to christen every surface in Malfoy Manor, trying their very hardest not to get caught... AN: hope you enjoy this lil fun imagine :) Warnings: Smut, swearing, slight humiliation, semi-public sex
Tumblr media
Your eyes fluttered open as Draco pressed needy kisses to your neck. “Morning,” you murmured, running a hand through his hair. It was the first official day of the Christmas holidays, and Draco had insisted you stay with him at Malfoy Manor, wanting you all to himself. The night before, you had acted like the perfect little lady, earning his parent’s approval. They didn’t seem to care you were half-blood when you composed yourself so well... 
“Morning,” he replied, his hands splaying over your tummy as he slipped them under your pyjama top. “YN... wanna fuck you,” he moaned into your ear, pressing his cock into your hip. You grinned and reached for him, tugging him on top of you, nodding. 
“Yes please,” you grinned. “Could wake up to this every morning, Drac,” you hummed as he yanked your pyjama bottoms down. 
“Oh, don’t worry,” he smirked, lining up with you. “I’ll be your alarm clock,” 
Your giggle was quickly replaced by a low moan as he pushed into you, already rocking his hips slowly, bracing his arms either side of you as you bucked your hips. You whimpered quietly, tilted your head back and sighing with satisfaction as he pressed more kisses to your exposed throat. “Shush, YN,” he moaned into your ear. “Wouldn’t want mother and father to catch us now, would we? They’re sticklers for premarital sex... Fuck, you feel so perfect around me...” 
You flushed at the thought of being caught and licked your lips. Surely he had locked the door? You couldn't quite call his bluff, however, so clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling your noises as they became sharper, higher-pitched and louder. “Gonna come, pet?” he smirked down at you, eyes blown wide with lust. You nodded and he smirked, and with a few final thrusts, you shattered around him, clinging to him and moaning into his shoulder as he came inside you. 
Flopping back on the bed, you hummed softly, still quivering slightly. Draco grinned, rolling off you and cleaning you up before pulling you close. “You, YN, are perfect,” he smiled and you giggled, nuzzling into his chest. 
You lay for a few more minutes before getting dressed, using Draco's posh en suite shower to clean yourself up properly. When you emerged, wrapped in a towel, Draco grinned at you. “Get dressed, YN, I wanna show you the library,” He had a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. “Don’t bother with underwear. You won’t be needing it,” 
Giggling, you got dressed, before allowing Draco to tug you through the many corridors and into the library. You passed a house elf on the way and you stood nearer to Draco, suddenly aware of the breeze fluttering up your skirt. “Will master Draco be wanting tea and sandwiches in the library?” the elf asked. 
“Er... no thank you, Bunty,” he said quickly, before dragging you in and shutting the heavy oak door behind him. Instantly, he attached his lips to yours, kissing you roughly and shoving his thigh between your legs. You whimpered and rocked your hips, before getting an idea. 
“Draco...” you moaned lowly, and he pulled back with raised eyebrows. “Fuck me against the bookshelves,” 
he grinned, liking your style, and walked you to the back where his father kept the most prestigious, ancient tomes. He cast a quick charm to get rid of the dust before pushing you up against the shelves. You whined out as the shelves and books jabbed your spine, but were soon distracted when he licked a long stripe up your throat and nipped your ear. “Fucking hell!” you whisper-shouted and he smirked, reaching a hand below your skirt to rub your clit. 
“My my my, such deplorable language from an esteemed young lady,” he teased and you wriggled on his fingers, scowling at him and hooking your fingers in his belt loops. 
“I swear to god, Draco,” you hissed and he smirked, unzipping his trousers and gripping your thighs, hoisting you up to perch on the very edge of a bookshelf as he thrust into you, not letting you adjust to the new angle, kissing you hard to muffle your sweet cries of ecstasy. The upwards angle had you falling apart in minutes, clinging to him as you tried to bounce your hips with his. He grunted, biting your neck as he pumped you full of his come, groaning lowly as he pulled out. You shuddered, leaning against the bookcase for support as you caught your breath. 
You carried on like that for days, finding new places to make love all over the manor. Draco took you wherever he could, his room, the library, the drawing-room, the dining room table... your favourite place, however, was his father’s study, riding him in the posh leather wingback armchair, before being bent over the vast desk. Part of the thrill was the risk of being caught- the library door had no lock on it, Draco left the kitchen door open a crack, and the study had no door at all- just a gilded archway.
 Perhaps your most daring rendezvous was on boxing day at dinner. You were sat next to Narcissa and across from Lucius when you felt a distinct buzzing sensation between your legs. Draco looked like that cat who got the cream as you sat a little straighter, taking a deep sip from your butterbeer to hide your blush. 
“So, YN, tell me, what does your father do?” Lucius asked as you clenched your jaw and pressed your hips into the chair. You took a moment to steady yourself before replying. 
“He... uh... works at Gringotts, Mr Malfoy,” you said, your voice wavering a little as draco flicked his wand under the table. Bastard, you thought, pressing your thighs tight together and crossing your ankles. 
“Interesting. Curse breaker?” you nodded, gripping the leg of the table out of everyone’s view, your nails digging into the wood. “And your mother works in the ministry, hm?” 
“Yes sir,” you said quietly, thighs quivering like mad as Draco revved up the vibrations. “She... works in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes,” 
Your interrogation was over and you let out a shaky breath as Lucius turned to speak to his son and wife. When the plates were finally cleared and you had all drank a nightcap, Draco insisted you retire for the night. You were shaky on your feet as he led you out and could barely hold yourself up by the time you got to your room. “Draco, please,” You whimpered once the door was shut. You had been on edge for little over an hour. “Please, please make me come, I-I’ve been good! I held it off at the table and everything, please!” 
Draco smirked at you and pointed you to the bed, where you eagerly lay down, writhing on his pristine sheets. he grunted at the sight and used magic to strip you both down. “Want my cock, do you, YN? Is that what you were thinking about all through dinner, answering my parents’ questions like a perfect little lady, while soaking the seat with your wetness like a little slut?” You moaned and nodded, arching your back even though he wasn't even touching you “Well, YN, I’m going to fuck you. You've been so good for me, so I’ll put up a silencing charm. You can scream t your heart’s content. Would you like that?” You nodded eagerly, arching your back, hips writhing as he slowly thrust into you, before settling into a ruthless, merciless pace. 
Soon the sounds of skin slapping filled the room, mixed with your loud cries and Draco’s strained grunts. “Please,” you begged. “Please, Draco, I’m gonna-”
“Come for me, baby,” he purred, and you arched your back, your entire body rocking as you came. Hw carried on, his hard thrusts causing your eyes to roll back and you to squirt, soaking him and the bedsheets as you came down from your high. “Good girl,” he groaned, admiring the sigh, before pulling out and cleaning up as you lay, dazed, breathless and well fucked on the bed. 
Tag List: @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @diksy1112​ @zodiyack​ @axriel​ @Theunderlier @hiddensapphic​ @samnblack​ @tinylumpiaa​
752 notes · View notes
skxrbrand · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
A bit hard to read, but the "Daemonic Phenomena" blurb in the 40k "Daemon Hunter" Codex. These are odd little phenomena that a mortal can experience when in the presence of a daemon....
I think it's unintendedly cute that being around a Khornate makes your blood warmer. The aching wounds I could do without though.
18 notes · View notes
kharrneth · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
Khornate Mutations
116 notes · View notes
Text
Ilya at uni
Ilya’s first day at University. Let the murder mystery begin.
taglist: @orchidscript @ashintheairlikesnow @vickytokio
-------------
The university’s library smelled of dust and knowledge.
Silence had settled over its second floor and nested between countless bookshelves. Even Ilya’s footsteps were quieter here, muffled by the carpeted floor. Grey and stained by feet and time.
He hastened past bookshelf rows, head held high to scan the polished plates mounted to their tops, cultural history, social anthropology, philosophy and gender studies, until he finally found ‘academic studies of ritual and magic’.
It was a small section, consisting of only two shelves tugged away into a far corner at the end of the enormous room, but Ilya felt like he had discovered the Alexandria of magic itself.
Old tomes and new textbooks towered above him, nearly reaching the plasterboard ceiling on their overstuffed wooden planks. They creaked softly under the weight of wisdom and Ilya’s heart jumped at the sight. A little butterfly tingle unable to stay contained behind ribcage bars. The feeling prickled down his arm and made his fingers dance, like pianist hands playing the tune of his heart into the air.
Something close to a content hum escaped his lips and his dark eyes lit up, filled with questions that burned to be answered. His gloved fingertips traced over spines imprinted with the most wondrous titles.
‘Potions for dummies’, declared one, or ‘Candles and cauldrons’ read another. A deep green book titled ‘Coole ghoule’ made Ilya chuckle, but what really caught his attention was ‘queering magic’.
He was about to pull it from the shelf when a quiet rustle made him pause.
Hadn’t he been alone on the floor?
After risking an anxious glance into the corridor and finding it, indeed empty, Ilya turned back to the shelf and froze.
There, in the gap between two books, pulsed a glittering light.
A friendly spirit or a sparkling curse, what’re you gonna be?
Twitching fingers reached for one of the books and very nearly dropped it as a glowing moth-like creature emerged from the shelves depths.
Ilya’s heart hammered in his throat as he dodged the fluttering flurry of glowing wings and stumbled backwards.
“Lanet olsun! You scared her off.”
An angry voice shattered the silence like a pistol shot and sent his heart into a rabbit-quick frenzy. Blood rushed in his ears, leaving him light headed. Numbness prickled up his fingertips, spread over his palms. He rubbed the inside of his leather gloves, reassuring himself that they were still there, that he still wore them.
“Don’t let her escape.”
His feet followed the command, already three steps ahead of his brain as he raced down the shelf-row.
Ilya and the outraged voice owner bolted out the aisle simultaneously. His boots slip-slided over the smooth carpet. Reddish eyes widened. Flying wisps of black hair ghosted over skin. Black eyes caught his.
Collision. Tumble. Hands hitting hard ground.
Pain shot up Ilya’s tailbone. He hissed through clenched teeth.
“Are you alright?” The stranger's previous anger morphed into worry and Ilya dared to blink up, squashing down the instinct to cower, curl up, apologize or erupt into enmity, jump up and shove them away.
Instead, he found himself face to face with the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Wild dark hair framed a pale face. Black eyes shimmered under prominent brows, furrowed with worry. One eye was framed by a port wine birthmark, spilling over her forehead all the way into her hairline. Full lips broke into a small smile at Ilya’s meek nod.
“Yeah. Yes. M alright.”
She sighed and her roman nose wrinkled as smile turned sheepish grin. “That’s a relief.”
She thrust her hand forward and the camera strap of an antique looking polaroid nearly slipped off her shoulder. Ilya got up, pretending to dust off his pants in way of refusing her hand.
“Sorry.” He started. “About that, uhm, about scaring off the-”
“Flasher.” The girl grinned. “And don’t worry. Won’t be too hard to find a flying flashlight flattering about a library hall. I’m Ranja by the way. You’re a freshman, right?”
“How do you- Is it that obvious?”
Her eyes flickered down to his feet. “The library layout fell out of your pocket.”
Ilya scrambled to pick it up with heating cheeks.
A burgundy ankle boot scraped it’s tip over the carpet. “Not to pry, Mr. freshmen, but are you starting in magical studies?”
Apprehension grew in him like rose thorns, pricked and pierced inside his throat. Words wanted to break out. To sting. All he let escape was a brusque: “What’s it to you?”
Ranja’s eyes held a knowing twinkle. She readjusted the camera strap without once looking away. “I merely thought getting to know a classmate would be nice.”
“Classmate?” Ilya breathed. Exhaling all wariness. “Does that mean- Are you a- Are you magic, too?”
A smile split Ranja’s rose-colored lips. “I was one of the first on campus. I started here last year.”
“Last? But this is this mayor's first ever semester. Or… isn’t it?”
“The first official, yes. Me and twelve other witches gave the Chancellor a, let's call it a hint, that the official establishment of this mayor was long overdue. And a proper library section. Most of those books were strewn all about the building. Self studying was a nightmare.”
Ilya stared, a little awestruck, down at her. Dust particles danced in the afternoon light, filtering through half closed blinds. One landed on Ranja’s cream colored sweater, tucked carefully into a brown plaid skirt. She quirked a bushy eyebrow. Expectantly.
It’s getting creepy, idiot. Stop staring. Say something! Something smart.
“That, uhm-” He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Neat.”
Smooth.
Part of Ilya wished for the carpeted floor to crack open and swallow him whole. Deep deep down into the depths of hell, to self-deprecate in peace.
“Neat.” Ranja repeated, chuckling. “Neat indeed.”
The only thing keeping Ilya from turning on his heel right then and there was his insatiable curiosity, winning over his humiliation. Dealing with the latter came way more naturally to him than stomping out the former. It’d started to simmer and lick at his guts the second Matthew had shoved his phone with the university course offers under Ilya’s nose at dinner, last winter.
He inhaled, long and deep, in through his mouth and forced it out through his nose. Like Doctor Ahmadi had taught him. His face, almost, almost, stopped burning.
“So, uhm, you- Here- That means-” Ilya buried his hands in his pockets, hoping to conceal him pinching his leg. The short sharp stab of pain turned into a soothing warmth on its way through nerve pathways up to his brain, where it got his words in order.
“There are really so many of us?” he whispered, reverently.
“Fithteen and counting.” Ranja nodded. She stepped forward, tilting her head. Black eyes searched his. “You haven’t met many of us, have you?”
Ilya shook his head, unable to stand her gaze any longer. He felt like a fish, gutted and on display, squirming under the knife of sudden vulnerability, cutting him so achingly obviously open.
“Us.” It was a whisper, a grasp for reassurance, for realization, spilling from his lips.
Us. Us as in more than one. More than a solitary part. More than an outlying anomaly. Us. Us as in a part of a whole, a group. However small. He wasn’t alone anymore.
Only spoken into existence, did it feel real.
“Hey there. Are you okay?” That tender tone of hers startled Ilya back into his body. He felt the fluffy fabric of his t-shirt, the heavier grey cotton of the pullover over that, the heat accumulating between soot black skin and leather gloves, and rasped: “Yeah. Sorry. Just, uhm, just tired. Moving across the country and all, ya know?”
“I can imagine. Hey, I don’t want to hold you up. But- We’re searching for new course committee members, and-” She dug a small white notebook and a pen from her skirt pocket, flipped it open and began to scribble something down. Tongue between teeth. She ripped the page out in one swift clean motion. “If you're interested or need any help finding your footing here send me an email, okay? We sure as hell can use all the help we can get.”
“I’llthink‘boutit.” Ilya murmured, folding the paper carefully in half before pocketing it.
He turned, hastily waving goodbye and rushed down the stairway, all four floors of it, skipping over sets of free steps until he hit the bottom and ran out the building. A stupid smile plastered over his face all the way back to his dorm.
Who would have thought that something as light as a piece of paper could carry every hidden hope, every forbidden dream he’d dared to dream beaten and bruised and alone in the dark?
It sat, indescribably heavy, in his pocket, a tactile reminder on every step. For the first time in a long time, Ilya’s heart was weightless.
11 notes · View notes
jessiebanethedragon · 4 years
Text
Dulled Senses (hunter x reader)
Hunter gets hyped up on pain meds and starts making confessions
If the situation wasn't so dire, it would actually be very funny. A stoic man with heightened senses and one of the highest kill counts in the entire GAR, was currently blissed out on far too many pain killing stim shots. 
But considering the huge gash that covered his lower back, Tech figured it would be okay to hype up the dosage. 
“That’s a lot of bacta.” You said with a small voice standing in the doorway, too afraid of entering the makeshift hospital on the Havoc Marauder. The guilt was already eating away at you.  Every thought was overwhelmed by another that said ‘not good enough.’ It was your job not to be seen, and today it seemed, you were failing miserably at it. 
“He will be fine. He always is.” Crosshair said from behind you, passing your frame to get into the main area. He didn't press. Crosshair always just knew, he knew that beyond the cold exterior of a republic spy, you were sobbing. You closed your eyes briefly. Taking a breath. 
“Trap!” You had screamed into the coms, ducking behind the closest study object, atop a separatist military building. Clutching a stolen datapad in your hands and a blaster in the other. The rest of the team had been on the ground, creating the distraction you needed to get inside. Only to be cornered between what felt like a million droids and free falling to your death. 
“Can you make it to the rendezvous?” Tech's voice crackled into your ear. Your answer was drowned out by a grenade that had fallen into your cover, forcing you to dash to the next piece of scrap metal cover. 
“I’m on my way.” Hunter’s voice was cool and collected, “Tech get back to the ship, Crosshair - aerial support.  Wrecker, get me as far up there as you can.” Looking down you see the Bad Batch jump into their orders. 
“Hunter you can’t…” You started to object but it was too late. Wrecker had thrown him about halfway up the five story building, Hunter was now using his viroblades to scale it the rest of the way. 
“Have a little faith, Bug.” He chuckled, and you wanted to roll your eyes at the nickname. (chosen by Wrecker after you took down a whole fleet of droids thanks to a carefully placed computer bug.) 
The Havoc Murdader was circling the building now. With Crosshair sniping droids out one by one. And Wrecker gave even more cover fire from well timed grenades. Rolling out from behind your cover firing your blaster at anything that moved. Before being pulled to the side by Hunter. Falling unceremoniously into him. 
“You’re going to be okay.” he’d told you upon seeing the amount of blood that was everywhere, small scratches adding up until you looked like a small demon. “I promise.” 
It was that promise that had landed him and electrostaff in the back. It had cracked his armour into two and the scream that had left the both of your when it happened was inhuman. 
“You coming in or what?” Crosshair snapped you back to the present. Tech was looking over any of his other wounds while Wrecker set up the autopilot. 
“I don't think I should.” You mumbled. Not trusting your voice at the moment. His hair was piled around his face, covering the tattoo you loved so much. His eyes were fluttering between barley open and closed. Laying on his stomach arms by his head, breaths coming in soft puffs. 
“He’s coming around, He’ll want to see you, Bug.” Tech stated. Watching you carefully, the unspoken thing between you and their sergeant felt deafening today. Slowly you set yourself on the stool next to him. Reaching out to touch him before deciding it was a bad idea. 
“Hey thereBug.” He  grunted opening his eyes fully to look at you. 
“Hey Sarge.” you whispered. “You gave us a real scare there.” Your eyes watered no matter how hard you tried to stop them.  What happened next was a shock to everyone
“Woohoo! Spooky.” Hunter laughed before closing his eyes again. “Tech he’s higher than a gas mine on Bespin.” Crosshair said unimpressed.  
“I know I know, I went heavy on the meds,” Tech said slumping into a chair in the corner. Hunter had now moved an arm so he could tap your knee while saying “bug, bug, bug.” with every tap. 
“At least he’s not in pain.” You said taking his hand and moving back onto the table. 
“Prettiest bug.” Hunter mumbled into your hand, which he’d somehow snatched. Crosshair let out an amused laugh. 
“Ooh this is going to be good.” He leaned forward on his knees. “Who’s the prettiest bug Hunter?” 
“Crossha-” you started. 
“(Y/N)” he all but moaned out.  “She’s so beautiful,” you gaped at him. Hunter was never  like this, whatever Tech gave him must have been the strongest stuff in the galaxy.  
“Do tell.” Crosshair pressed, enjoying this a tad too much. 
“It’s the eyes, I think. So bright and calming. But also the hair, I love the hair. Wanna touch it.” his eyes closed again, letting out a small hum in contentment. You moved from the stool so you could kneel beside him, face to face, one hand holding his and the other going through his wonderfully dark hair now.  
“It’s okay” You said with a small giggle, “you’re pretty as well, very nice hair.” Hunter beamed at you with those words. 
“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” He whispered, forgetting his brothers were in the room. You didn't speak any mando’a, but Techs soft: 
“Woah” made you think he’d said something serious. 
“What?’ you panicked, “is he okay?” 
“Yes, he is okay.” Tech said, still in shock that Hunter had all but confessed his love for you in front of them. 
“Mhi solus tome,...”  Hunter was mumbling again. “mhi solus dar’tome…” His brother's jaws had officially hit the floor, and you were scrunching your face in confusion.  “mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.”
“Holy. Kriff.” Crosshair said. 
“Hey, Cross we should see how  Wrecker’s getting on.” Tech said quickly getting up and ushering his vod out of the room and around the corner. Both of them hiding and still eavesdropping on the conversation. 
They could hear you begin to sniffle as the guard broke down now that you were alone. 
“I’m so sorry Hunter. I’m so sorry.” You whispered. Pressing your forehead to his, something he’d done once when you were injured. 
We are one whether we are together or apart, 
We will share everything and
We will raise our children as warriors.
You didn't know the translation, the vows lost upon your ears. 
“Please get better.” You cried into his hair freely now. “I can’t live without you.” Hunter was losing consciousness again. 
“I love you.” He said softly, barely audible. 
“I love you too.” You said the second the words had left his lips. But he was too far gone to catch them. 
274 notes · View notes
askservais · 3 years
Text
Hi this mun here.
🔫
Y'all are gonna listen to me go off about Dadvais or else you get the water gun because I have an exam tommorow but brain is going brrr Dadvais and this fandom does not give me enough dadvais content.
Like everything else I have to do it my goddam self 🔫
Why am I weirdly aggressive about this?
*aggressive shrugging*
Anyway Dadvais.
(Warning. Intense rambling. Very intense rambling. I have thoughts and this is Dadvais propoganda. Also like. Brief implication of abuse near the end.)
(Also its like 1am aaa)
Anyway Gamers.
Right we commonly accepted that Servais is cat dad.
Which is good. Good content.
I am also just saying, Servais is the kinda of person who adopts 50 kids and denies they're his kids. He's tsundere dad.
But he's also really fucking soft. He really likes kids. They adore his magic tricks and the man loves magic, absolutely try me the best way to instantly bond with Servais is talk magic.
This is not to say he is a competent dad. He's more of 'I'm trying oh god I left Tracy at the market' dad.
Y'all have seen his diary this man has one braincell for magic only. Also professor of literature. Servais. Servais my beloved. Why did you think this was a good idea. Servais.
He adopts like. *does the math* most of the survivors.
And his favourite is Emma. Probably.
Look the whole reason Dadvais exists is because of me developing 'Forever in the manor' (forever in the concept phase would be better name. Do plan to do the first 'canon' fic after Winters last snow-) and plot stuff happens.
In which Emma has two hands so she can have two hands. If you have a problem with this. I will fight you in the tesco's parking lot/j
I am just saying early manor days when it's just the free characters and Servais the two bond.
And maybe they garden together.
And bake a cake.
Yes I am referencing my fic 'A cake's respite' that fic is early days dad Servais. Servais stayed in that Kitchen when he wanted to drink because he wants to make Emma happy.
Also what intensified dadvais was a discord rp where I, the official magician of the server, had no braincells and just instinctively made him go dad mode.
Also minor tangent i know the fandom characterises Servais most of the time as grumpy old man, which like. He is to an extent but can I please have more chaotic Servais. Like. Y'all have seen his tome accessory right. He's a little bit of a goofball and I would love to see more of it.
Sometimes y'all kinda make him a little too mean. Which I know stems from most people disliking him but even ones who do like him just... yeah.
Then again I'm no Servais expert. I'm trying to get his personality as accurate as possible so if I'm wrong feel free to correct me. I've messed up on character before and its my policy of keeping characters as Canon accurate as possible even if I don't like them because other people do.
Speaking of Canon, time to go the opposite direction and talk about the dadvais au. Yes I have a goddam dadvais au the self indulgency never fucking stops.
It is also a work in progress because god has cursed me for my hubris but I will spit in his face and steal his wallet.
To summarise the Dadvais au.
William and Orpheus are street kids who investigate Servais for the death of his mentor John but end up adopted by him instead, beginning the start of Servais's child army.
This au gives me much serotonin aside from the Dadvais serotonin because canonically in this au Servais has no violence rights but Robbie, a toddler in this au, does.
I feel like this is an appropriate moment to inform everyone that unfortunately your mun is a chaotic goblin. I am so sorry.
Anyway, I am going to focus on one section of the dadvais au because I need to not make this a ten page essay.
So we're going to focus upon the point Servais decides to adopt Murro. Also canon ages do not apply in this au because by the time I had discovered Kevin's canon age I had an idea and got too attached so *yeets canon ages out window*.
So Au. Murro is 15-16. Servais is in his 20's. Orpheus and William are around..12. Still working on ages. At this point Naib has been adopted and is around 14. I think. I need to do thing called 'keep track of my characters ages.'
Anyway!
So onto what happens. I feel it is very important to establish the fact that Naib steals Murro from the Circus (its explained why in au) with a little help from Mike (~10) and Joker (16-17).
Unfortunately Sergi tries to stop them and Naib and him fight. Which Naib totally would have won but he didn't. Rip. So he gets caught by Sergi who takes him to Bernard.
Murro heads to Servais' place on Naib's advice and sneaks in with Orpheus' and William's help. The two try to hide him and his boar but fail miserably.
Servais quickly discovers him, recognises him from the circus and questions why he's here, and where is Naib.
And ever quickly discovers what Naib had done.
Which very much terrifies our Magician dad because well, Naib is in some very hot water that Servais is doing his best to keep him safe despite it. So him being trapped at Hullabaloo is.... extra bad.
In a panic he almost tries to force Murro to come with him back to the circus, before he realised he can't.
He can't let Murro go back.
On one level its on the basic moral level. Bernard is a dick and no child deserves to be in a cage and treated like that.
On another. Its because of John. His mentor.
Servais has a guilty conscience.
His actions put blood on his hands.
He can't do it again.
Naib returns, having managed to escape with the secret help of Natalie. He may or may not threaten Servais to keep Murro, which is unnecessary, as Servais has already decided.
He tells the kids to stay home or else. Then leaves.
Going straight to talk to Bernard.
Bernard is pissed, and Servais apologises for Naib's actions, then makes an offer.
He will buy Murro from Bernard.
Murro was just an act to Bernard after all. And he puts down a very generous sum. Reminding Bernard Murro's act was losing popularity. Better to cash in now then lose cash on a dying act.
Bernard is hesitant.
Servais raises his price.
Bernard wants that price. But that price for Murro only. The boar has to be paid separately.
Servais clenches his jaw.
Fine.
He leaves the tent at the dead of night. He exchanges a glance with a Mike hiding amongst the equipment.
He leaves and heads home.
Where the kids are anxiously waiting. Murro unsure of whats going to happen to him. Naib prepared to fight Servais to keep Murro. William prepared to play back up with Orpheus trying to reason with them and find a different solution.
When Servais comes home the kids are waiting for him. They wait for him to speak. Or try to. Before Servais can say anything everyone except Murro immediately start yelling/pleading for Servais to keep Murro.
Which Servais tells them to stop. Reassuring them Murro won't have to leave.
He's sorted everything out. Murro doesn't have to go back.
He rubs his temples and sighs. Telling Naib, Orpheus and William to set up the guest bed for Murro.
They'll sort this all out in the morning.
Servais waits from them to leave before leaning against the wall. He covers his eyes with his hand.
He needs a drink.
6 notes · View notes
st-just · 4 years
Note
What was kicking around before the various Abhari polities?
Well, it’s a slow day at work, so to answer partially, but in altogether too much detail, here’s 1/3 of what you asked.
The Holy Illyric Empire was originally formed as a personal union between the kingdom of Illyrin and the Grand Duchy of Belthaya, crowned and consecrated by the Hierophant of High Imir, who at the same time accepted the new crowned Emperor’s secular authority and protection over his not insubstantial lands. The diverse fiefs and provinces of those three kingdoms still form the core of the Empire, along with various minor acquisitions too small to mention slowly absorbed generation-to-generation around the edges.
Regions and realms worth nothing annexed into the Empire since its founding include (in roughly chronological order or acquisition)
-The Principality of Lussello: Despite the number of wars fought over the issue, in the end the confederation of fiefs and city-states wasn’t so much conquered as bought. Technically speaking, the various princes, counts and patricians are totally free to elect anyone they please as their First Prince on the death of the previous King-Emperor. In practice, they’re perfectly content to pantomime the election as part of the next’s coronation ceremony, and receive the traditional gift of royal silver from their newly anointed liege.
- The Southern Marches: The ancient and perpetually feuding necromantic kingdoms to Belthaya’s south were a source of perpetual trouble for the early empire, and after an attempted invasion by a would-be vampiric emperor ravaged the countryside (and ensured vampirism was never going away in the region), the resulting First Crusade did see to it that the region was permanently brought to heel. The Marcher Lords created to rule it – first among them the Grand Dukes of Abhari, ruling from the greatest surviving city in the region, after the war – are all imported lines, only lately beginning to marry into Abharan gentry and priestly dynasties that have proven loyal.
-The Wyrmpale: A treacherous and impassable mountain range to the Empire’s south-west, it has for some time served as the natural border, both because of the geography and because no fewer than a half dozen – and sometimes as many as ten – dragons call the peaks home. The Pale itself is a large region of foothills and valleys spilling out from it, where for some generations the inhabitants had enjoyed late and mild and winters and absolute protection from foreign attack in exchange for a generous tribute of silver to a wyrm of blizzard and avalanche. After a diplomatic crisis caused by a slave raiding aiming to acquire miners for that tribute accidentally seized a minor noble, the dragon was convinced to accept Imperial authority in exchange for an even larger yearly allowance, and exalted noble titles for both it and its favoured supplicants. Recently, the growth of Celmean influence on the far side of the mountains has made the few major passes valuable trade routes, and the field for informla battles of influence.
-The Viceroyality of Caille: The former domain of the self-styled King of Rivers, and the Empire’s first notable extra-continental acquisition. Two generations on from the Fourth Crusade, the official understanding of events is to view the whole thing as a grand tragedy (making it a very popular setting for dramas and romances). This is a culmination of a long process that has seen the god-blooded princely and priestly lines which once governed the land restored to their old offices, with a massive funerary cult having been established to honour the memory of the dead god himself. To say this is motivated by just how rich everyone involved in Vice-regal adminsitration is getting off tariffs and trade and the need to limit any potential rebellion that might kill the golden goose is perhaps slightly too cynical, but only slightly.
-The Red Marches: The devil-ravaged northern reaches of Illyrin and Belthaya had been lost to the Empire centuries previously – theoretically claimed, of course, but once the actual threat had been defeated pacifying the craggy hills and islands was universally considered more trouble than it was worth. This changes rather dramatically during the last succession, some 30 years ago, when the reigning Queen-Empresses’ younger brother fled their with his partisans and quite a few stolen tomes and relices, and seized one of the larger ports in the region as a capital to begin raising a host and attracting foreign support. The resulting Sixth Crusade was honestly barely worthy of the title, and rather easier than actually administering the land – both in trying to teach the bandit chiefs and reaver captains who picked the right side and made themselves barons some culture, and in putting down all the things a talented diabolist with plenty of stolen lore and nothing to lose can call up before he goes.  
-The Cimbri Confederacy: Named after the trading post it was signed in. The Empire’s other major extra-continental endeavour is largely restricted to widely scattered forts and trading posts to buy furs and other luxuries, and secure fishing rights. That said, the growing influence of both other Great Power’s clients in the Outer World, the potential threat to trade and shipping, and the simple logic of Cold War, has required some sort of power on the continent. Hence, the Cimbri Confederacy, a vast coalition of trading partners and allies whose leaders were willing to go through a more-or-less symbolic ceremony of adoption and pledged loyalty to their ‘Great Mother Across the Sea’, and receive  gifts of guns and steel in exchange. Somewhat of an untested idea championed by the current Viceroy in her letters to the Court, and one working with limited sponsorship from back home.
20 notes · View notes