#the way the monsters are the souls of the damned | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yandere-wishes · 2 days

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⭒ㅤׂ ɪ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʙᴇ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇㅤׂ ⭒

⭒ㅤ𓈒 Yandere!WuWa! Men x Reader 𓈒 ⭒

゜⌒ヽ❥ Dark Romance

°•❃•°

꒷꒦꒷Scar | 伤痕

Your fear tastes like nectar, thick and sweet, and sacrilegious. Scar gulps down your apprehension in starving strides. Cradling the burn between his teeth, savoring the sensation of the embers coiling and seething inside his veins. You're too perfect, thrashing underneath him, caged and defiant his little lost lamb. trying to flee, begging for freedom like a fever dream high. He licks your iridescent tears with zealous maniacal jubilation. Relishing in the soft warm flesh of your cheek marinated in your woe. He wants to taste them every day, force them from your pretty petrified eyes with scorching kisses and touches that shatter your very bones.

Scar's talons etch jagged filigrees across your body engraving terrors and torments all parodying "I love you". But he can't love, not really, love is too gentle too vain, he needs to consume, to feel the reverberations trapped between your bones. Scar's kisses burn wakes down your spine, slipping between the vertebras. Hollowing out your essence piece by piece, his hunger knows no bonds, refusing to dwindle until he's bled every delicious part of you dry. Until he feels your heart between his teeth.

˚✶˚Jiyan | 忌炎

You trace his markings, nails gliding gingerly through the jagged crystals of his tacet mark. He kisses the hollow of your palm, basking in the sweet giggle you gift him. You're his precious treasure, a sweet gem imported from the silk roads themselves. He'd do anything to keep you safe binding your soul to his tattered one. Jiyan is the Qingloong that everyone looks up to, the indestructible pillar of Jinzhou. And yet a simple smile from you is all it takes to shatter his illusion of strength.

Between patients, his mother would sometimes grace him with fables about Dragons, not Loong, not the creature their nation worshiped but Dragons monsters from the western nations. She'd tell him How they hoarded exotic treasures from all corners of the world. Growing powerful in the light of other's envy. They did anything to protect their gold coins and pearl necklaces, kill, and maim in the name of obsession. Back then he'd found such creatures disgusting, dubbed it blasphemy to even mention them in the same breath as the deific Loong. Now he thinks he's more dragon than Loong. Hoarding you away keeping you only to himself. Promising to maul any who try to rob him of your sweet kisses and angelic laughter.

𒆜Calcharo | 卡卡罗

You come prepackaged with a soft smile and a docile heart. Calcharo thinks it's all from the privilege of having lived a satisfactory life. Cherished, overfed, protected. All the things stripped of him so young. He shouldn't be jealous though, after all, he has the complacency to thank for turning his darling into such an ideal doll. Jejune and helpless, shivering under his cold touch. He harbors you between his thighs, enjoying the way your pearl-kissed dress pools on the floor. An ivory testament to the innocence he so craves. Calcharo's calloused fingers entrap the hollow of your hips pulling you harshly against him, he can't get enough of you. His lips kiss the dip of your neck nose bumping the back of your ear. Enraptured by the floral scent of your perfume.

You tried to run again today, flee when he'd been out escorting a merchant across the desert terrain. His men had caught you, binded you all pretty and left you in his chamber. He flashes you a crooked smile upon entry. Watching as you struggle and glare knowing damn well it won't change a thing. "Really little rabbit? I thought we had ceased playing such foolish games." He grasps your chin pulling you closer, your knees slide across the wooden floor scuffing from the friction. His cold lips trace your own as he whispers degradations laced with romance. Calcharo leans down for the kill, a lethal crushing kiss. Trapping your lips and engulfing your essence. Laughing when you're foolish enough to return the favor. You shiver and moan and it takes every bit of willpower not to devour you right then and there.

☄Mortefi | 莫特斐

The universe reverberates to a familiar tune when he first sees you. Singing a melody he swears he's heard each night when he lays his wry head to rest. What kind of creature are you? A cacophony of starsongs and golden echoes. He longs to touch you, to permit his flames to traverse your body searing you until you shine with the purity you all so deserve. He loses himself in the melody of your voice, the lost tune of a fading nova. Something too ethereal to be of this crude world.

Mortefi fancies himself a scientist and takes utmost pride in the way his mind curves around a problem. Floating through the riddles seeking answers in the dark. He can fix anything, create anything. And yet you stand before him defiant of his understanding. Mortefi grabs you by the collar, cradling a rogue sun within his palms, kissing its rays trying to grasp comprehension between his teeth and swallow it whole. It doesn't work by the end of the kiss you are still an anomaly and he is still a scientist wearing the heart as some hapless love-struck schoolboy. The need to understand you grows claws tearing at his mind, desperation pierces his throat whenever he catches a mere glimpse of you. He needs to understand, to tear you open and choke your secrets.

҉　Aalto | 秋水

Aalto's fingers weave through your hair, silk traversing through bone and flesh, flowing free in the aero he produces subconsciously. He cradles you delicately in his arms, trying his best to ignore the sour frown etched upon your face. He creates fables, spinning stories out of silk and air trying to win your interest with tales of stray sheep and fallen stars. Of lost treasures on the jade road and little girls with fire flowing through their veins. Your frown doesn't falter.

He kisses you again, and again and again. Trying to pry out adoration and devotion from between your bones. He struggles, whining about detesting and freedom. It sounds so trivial especially when he can give you everything your heart desires. He can't let you go, not when his very essence aches to feel you between his arms. Aalto wonders what stories he must make to erase that blood-curdling frown of yours. What information does he need to lay out your feet for you to grace his lips with your own? A lover's kiss, not whatever this is. I love you he whispers, he doubts you even care.

Let me know what you think. Should I do yandere Jiyan x reader x Yandere Calcharo next? ~💜

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lintsins · 9 months

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monster reborn

#you ever think about how Yugi is a monster reborn #the way the monsters are the souls of the damned #you ever think about after they’ve been separated #that Yugi might look at that card and himself a little differently #something like that #yugi moto #yuugi mutou #Yugioh dm #ygo #Yugioh #yugi mutou

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eterniityblooms · 17 days

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updated my rules to include shipping info + a bit more about my monster muses specifically, since shipping with at LEAST one muse on this account is probably inevitable at some point

#『 from the rumblings comes a song: ooc. 』#tldr i don't know who is and isn't open for ships so if you jive with a particular muse after writing with them some by all means feel free #to ask and we can see if it would work; crossover ships are absolutely wonderful too so don't feel afraid to ask even if the verse is #different!#also that all my monster muses are fully sapient and open to shipping with humans/wyverians/nonhumans/other monsters/etc provided they vibe #and most of them possess their true form，a 'hybrid' form and their human/wyverian form but all of them can and will spend at least Some tim #in their true forms and a lot of them Prefer that form #i don't think? that'll be an Issue here on tumblr but on twitter ojhhhh my god nobody would rp with you if you didn't basically make your #monster muse a glorified human. i had ppl try to pressure my muse ic to use their human form just. for a conversation?? then proceeded to #drop the int and cease to acknowledge me whatsoever when i refused because my muse didn't see the point in wasting the energy to shift form #when they can talk perfectly fine in their true form #not ALL of my monster muses speak words verbally (soul comes to mind as one who typically doesn't) but those who don't still have plenty of #ways of expressing themselves #also they choose not to not because they CAN'T because they either don't Want to or mimicking the sound of speech is hard on their throat #(ie soul) so they opt to not unless they Really want to make a point or make damn sure they're being listened to #nonverbal/non-words communication is a valid form of communication and i like writing natural monster/dragon communication through sounds #and body language. it is very fun<3 #sorry for the tag spam ramble btw i do this Often. nicer than dumping it all in the body of the post yknow?

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probablybadrpgideas · 3 months

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Utterly Bullshit Puzzles For Your Dungeon

There are two guards. One always tells the truth. One always lies. Neither know what's behind the doors they're guarding. Both doors lead to a trash compacter.

Three Chests. One hisses and contains deadly gas, one is clearly airtight and contains deadly gas, one is unmarked and contains deadly gas. If the players ignore the chests, both exits from the room (including the one they came from) contain deadly gas.

Three potions. A complex riddle gives you a series of clues to figure out which one is poison, which one is a buff and which one is just coloured water. Actually they're all glued to the table and, while you were faffing around with the riddle, thirty thousand angry orcs walked in.

A series of levers which cause the door to open or close to a different amount. You think you have to flip the levers in order to open it the right amount. Actually, the door opens whenever it damn well feels like it, and the levers are unrelated.

The Horrifying Monster is immune to all damage unless they're first stabbed by an obsidian dagger. What the players don't know is that "obsidian dagger" is actually a mistranslation of "gold needle" and no-one has any way of finding that out.

The locked door is in a room full of keys, all of which are slightly different. Actually, all the keys are the soul cages of never-before-mentioned powerful liches, and if you touch any of them that lich teleports in to kill you.

Pile of treasure that is marked with "those who touch this will be betrayed by those they least suspect". When a PC takes it, the GM throat-punches that PC's player.

The BBEG can't be defeated. That's it, that's the entire puzzle. Good fucking luck.

#rpg #roleplaying game

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limpfisted · 7 months

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Wyll is not well-adjusted he is repressed and there is a difference

Sometimes being nice... is worse!

Does wyll forgive his father. Does he even know. Does he let himself feel that pain out loud. Does he let his Father see how much he hurt him. How much that will always hurt him

He hasnt told anyone about mizora in seven years. He doesn't talk about other punishments from her. He doesn't defend himself when u call him a liar, a hypocrite, a monster.

Suffering in silence is still suffering. And he's had to deal with a lot of silence these past seven years

He was a homeless disabled queer teenager with a literal devil that STILL follows him around and he ONLY says no to her bc he doesn't want to kill an innocent person. And he tells you he's scared for himself after he doesn't kill karlach. That there will be a reckoning for him. He says it in a vague riddle bc he can't even tell u about mizora

Like he's been hunting devils since he was 17 and he doesn't even talk about avernus or devils except to talk about how evil and cruel and vicious and dangerous they are like hmmmmm I wonder how he knows that. I wonder

Like there are some people who never talk about their trauma but it doesn't mean they're well adjusted it just means that despite all wylls poetry, he doesn't know how to express how deeply he's been hurt. And that's sad!

He can say the most beautiful words to support u and tell u how he loves u, how devoted he is to other people, how proud of them he is

But when it comes to himself. I just did what was right. What's done is done. Let's keep moving

And u know that's certainly one way to get thru it but also he just dismisses his own needs and weaknesses and soul like that

Damn you can't even tell him you're proud of him the whole game. U can't give him a hug. U can't tell him you'll take care of him for a change. Fuck broe

#ooc #hc

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ozzgin · 2 months

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Can I have yandere Aka Manto x Reader? I see you write Japanese myths, cuz why not?

Yandere! Urban Legend x Reader [Aka Manto]

You never know when you're going to meet your soulmate. It could be on a beach at sunset, on the last bus home, in the elevator of an office building...Or in a public bathroom after you just finished your business. Nevertheless, this urban legend monster has its eyes on you now.

Content: gender neutral reader, urban legend, part horror part comedy, gore!, monster romance

"Are you deaf? It's occupied!" you shout one final time, giving the door a swift kick to emphasize your presence. That's what you get for using a public restroom. Your coworkers had convinced you to try out another bar after the company dinner, and you might've had one too many cocktails. Thankfully most of the drinks were watered down, although it is exactly because of this detail that you're now hovering above a toilet seat with a full bladder. On a Friday night, in the partying neighborhood of the city, so it could explain the persistent stranger - possibly even drunker than you - who keeps rattling the lock of your stall.

To your horror, the handle begins to turn, and you hear a click. You scramble to get up and secure the door, but it's too late. With your pants halfway down, you gawk at the bizarre individual squeezing his way in: a tall figure wearing a red cloak and a mask. "What the Hell?" is all you can mumble to yourself, awkwardly gathering your garments in order to preserve your remaining ounce of dignity. Out of all the things to happen tonight...Alright, calm down. It's most likely a crackhead. You cast your eyes down and focus on the floor tiles, with patterns strategically chosen to hide as much grime as possible.

Pretty. Almost too pretty to kill. He might just take his time with you and savor the moment. Of course, you'll have to answer his question first. With bureaucratic efficiency, he pulls out two rolls of toilet paper and extends them to you. "The red one, or the blue one?" he asks with theatric gravity. What in the Avon samples Hell is this, you think, fidgeting nervously and avoiding any eye contact still. If you ignore him, he should lose interest.

A minute passes in heavy silence. His ghastly arms begin to tire, so he lowers them with a disappointed creak of the joints. "Y-you have to pick one", he insists. Damn it! Perhaps you've been told what to do if approached by mischievous spirits like him? Ignorance means you keep your head, though he was hoping for a gory night of entertainment. You can almost feel the intense stare coming from behind the eerie mask. The tension becomes unbearable, so you finally decide to push your luck. You will not spend the night stuck with a deranged pervert looming over you in a public bathroom.

Without further delay, you shove him aside and open the door. He lets out a surprised hum, observing your daring gesture and almost expecting you to run for your life. To his even greater shock, however, you stop to wash your hands with a relaxed whistle, completely unbothered by his presence. What happened to the fear, the terror, the dread? You peek at his reflection in the mirror, and your lips curl in a mocking grin. Maybe it's the alcohol finally hitting your nervous system, but all you see right now is a pathetic charlatan who tried to intimidate you with literal toilet paper. A good-for-nothing scoundrel interrupting the innocent from their much-needed bathroom break.

In fact, the more you consider your situation, the more your chest puffs with outrage and bravery. You pay your taxes, you help the needy, and this is how your civic deeds are rewarded? By having your stream cut midway? Unbelievable. Unacceptable. No other soul shall suffer your fate tonight. "Wretch!" you cry out, turning towards the aggressor and continuing your demands: "Evacuate the premises at once!"

You might not understand it yet, but your act of defiance has sealed your fate. The hooded monster smiles, relishing the words that have closed the gap between your fragile body and his blasphemous claws. You have spoken to him; thus, he can do with you as he desires. And yet, his murderous fingers hesitate. Your entrails should be splattered across the rarely polished porcelain by now. What's holding him back? He tilts his head in contemplation, but any intention to ponder his feelings is quickly discarded once a loud shriek pierces his ears.

As it turns out, someone else had been using the neighboring stall and was alerted by your little argument. Their finger is pointed at the cloaked creature, features twisted in disgust and fear. "Can't you tell we're busy?" The mysterious man inquires sarcastically. On second thought, this should be enough to satisfy his cravings.

With a snap of the fingers, the frightened bystander is torn apart by invisible hands right before your very eyes. Their limbs detach with surreal ease, and blood splatters everywhere in hot, sticky bursts. In your petrified daze, you are reminded of nature documentaries: blurry snippets of sharks trashing their victim around, fleshy chunks coming undone from the violent handling. Within seconds, the bathroom is quiet again. The walls and ceiling are drenched in fresh blood, and occasionally, fat droplets collapse into a puddle with resounding echo.

It all falls into place. The hooded creature claps its hands, startling you back into awareness. "That's what it was!", he says with enthusiasm. He approaches you with quiet steps, cushioned by the meaty remains coating the floor. He places one hand over the mask, removes it, and gives it a shake as if to clean off the crimson fluid. You involuntarily gaze at his face, taken aback by the handsome traits. Is this the appearance of a ruthless ghoul who butchers mortals for amusement? You wouldn't believe it if it wasn't for the hot trickle of foreign blood trailing your skin.

"I think I've fallen in love with you", he confesses with a wide, saw-toothed smile. You feel a clawed finger tracing your cheek affectionately. "Well? What're you so silent for? You were quite cheeky a moment ago!" he continues tauntingly, gripping your chin and forcing you to look up. "Or have you seen what happens when you misbehave? No, no, darling, I'd never! There are other ways in which I can ruin you."

You're suddenly very cold. With dry lips, you eventually open your mouth to speak: "I'm not leaving here, am I?"

"You could, but that would make me very upset."

#forgive me anon I tried to be serious but the temptation of the piss stalker was too great #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere monster #aka manto #aka manto x reader #japanese urban legend #yandere headcanons #monster x reader #yandere monster x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #horror #horror x reader #monster x human

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nightmarist · 7 months

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Some Zevlor Things —

EDIT 12/2/23: Added a few more things

A fellow Tiefling Hellrider, Tilses, is with him in the caves acting as his bodyguard. He sometimes calls her Tilly.

There is one bedroll in the caves shoved off in the far corner with a book titled "The Devil You Know: An Autobiography" - not sure if it's his personal writing or if he's reading it, either way it adds to the flavor of his of his tiefling pride (and/or anguish).

It reads:

Have you ever had a god change your blood? It is a horrifying thing, even for those who may desire it. Yet few tieflings wished for Asmodeus to claim their bodies, only be given no choice in the matter. It is not as if we were well-loved before the archdevil's gambit. Our people have always struggled against the notion of 'devilkin', as if a single drop of infernal ichor inescapably corrupts. How amusing, when so many others willingly sell their souls to fiends, yet their culture as a whole escapes the blame. By what method can we redeem ourselves, when the crime is not ours? I would drive a blade into every warlock that aided Asmodeus' damned ritual, but personal vengeance cannot undo the will of a god, much less one as slippery as the Lord of Lies. When every passerby thinks you a thief and heretic, it is deeply tempting to become one. (cut off) The only thing that has stopped me is knowing Asmodeus wants nothing more than for all of us to fall from grace.

Around the his table are Invasion Plans for Elturgard, Traveler's Guide to Baldur's Gate, Traveler's Guide to the Sword Coast Vol IV: The Risen Road (which aligns when he tells you earlier there are gnolls on the road), and "Front and Center: a Thespian's Memoir" that reads:

"... in fact, the greatest joy of my life hasn't been acting, but becoming. When you choose a character to play, you don't just wear a mask - you take a little bit of their soul for your own. Whoever you are in your heart of hearts, if only by the faintest note."

Zevlor aside I think this is a sweet quote for the player and player character relationship <3

Dialogue in the Caves:

Zevlor: I Hardly need a bodyguard, Tilses. This isn't Avernus. Tilses: No sir. At least the monsters there looked like monsters.

—

Tilses: Commander— Zevlor: Just Zevlor, Tilly. We're civilians now, remember? Tilses: With respect, sir — being a Hellrider is for life. They can't take — Zevlor: They can, and did. Avernus changed things — best we get used to that. Tilses: ... Yes, Zevlor

—

Tilses: The Watch or the Flaming Fist? Zevlor: Pardon? Tilses: When we get to Baldur's Gate. Where are we enlisting? Zevlor: I'm done soldiering, Tilly. I'd like a clean start. But go with the Watch. You're too honest to be a mercenary.

—

Zevlor: No word from the scouts, yet? Tilses: No sir. But if there's a clear path past the goblins, they'll find it. Zevlor: Yes, of course.

ITEMS —

in the Chest there is a bronze goblet, 46 gold, and a battle-worn blade. On his person he has his gloves (Hellrider's Pride), an apple, a camp supply pack, and the key to his chest.

The blade says:

A fine by well-used sword. It seemed to have once belonged to a holy order, but the indication of rank and patron deity at the hilt have recently been filed down.

The gloves' flavor text says:

A waft of sulphur emanates from this proudly-kept piece.

Celebration at the Camp:

"I should be out there, talking with them. In... Just a moment, maybe." "Is this everyone? Our numbers have grown so few..." "No more. I can't afford to lose any more of them." "No. Let them have fun. I'll be ruining it come morning anyway."

Mindfayer Colony:

Things he mumbles in the Pod:

The pod will show you his memories of Elturel:

After saving Zevlor, I forced myself to pick the "mean" options just to see how it goes.

If you tell him its his fault tieflings were imprisoned in moonrise, he says:

If you tell him "Do yo have a right to ask?" when he asks about the tieflings:

He doesn't argue with any of your remarks except one, when he says "For a moment I welcomed it" and you tell him "For a moment until you realized your reward would be a tadpole" he corrects you:

If you tell him if he wanted power he should live up to his own ideal:

If you tell him to get out of your sight:

When you tell him it's not his fault he was enthralled:

If you tell him "Fine. Good luck, Zevlor."

If you say you could use another blade in the fight to come:

At the Netherbrain:

(smiling <3)

"The journey has been brutal, but I stand here a Hellrider once more, and I would die a proud man if I died this day."

I know it's a Soldier thing to be proud to die for a cause but it still makes me worry for him given his background so far <:]

If you click on him, he has two unvoiced lines:

if you pickpocket him at this point, he'll have the same items on him as before (in this save he has a carrot instead of an apple for me).

His stats at this time: (Steeped in Bliss is from one of my items)

Post Game (Patch 5)

I don't know if there are other permutations of this letter, yet, but this is what I received:

I hope my penmanship has improved somewhat in the past months. When I first stumbled into this city, I shook so badly that I could scarcely hold the soup the priests pressed into my hands - let alone write and thank you as you deserve. It is only when the city itself began to shake that I felt my hands grow still. Along with the other veterans sheltering at the temple - discards of Elturel's 'unworthy' legions - I watched that monstrosity rise over the city. We felt no fear. Only anger. Disgust. Purpose - and with it, power. I do not know what oath we cling to now, or how long it will last - but we shall use it to ensure that this city will not suffer as Elturel did. Whether it wants us or not. It is more than thanks alone I owe. No words can make amends for what I did to my people, but that is as it should be. More come to the temple every day to aid in the relief efforts, and if I am permitted to work alongside them, then I am content. Come and see us, when you can. Zevlor

It's interesting — if not bitterswet, tragic, and inspiring — to hear that Zevlor and other Paladins regained their Oaths via pure, stubborn devotion to saving people when it began to look as bad as Elturel.

#zevlor #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #act 1 spoilers #act 2 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #this man reeks of self loathing i want to bathe him in love and comfort #i also want him carnally #act 3 spoilers #bg3 meta

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sanjisblackasswife · 11 months

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……we’re gonna need a fic about y/n leaving dickies on the monster trio….. and law…. Pretty please….😀🥹😙😙😙

𝔾𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℍ𝕚𝕞 𝕒 𝔻𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕪

If yall dont know what a dickey is its a hickey on a dick.

Ft. Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Law

Blk Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Dick sucking.

Sanji

It turns him on in the worst way.

The first time you sucked his dick you overstimulated him to the point he was blabbering between “Please stop” and keep going.

The day after that he woke up to do his usual routine of getting ready when looking down to pee he noticed a small bruise under his tip.

“I—…Y/nnnnn!”

Like a child running to their parent’s room to tell them they three up he stood by your sleeping body and tapped your shoulder in a small panic.

“Y/n…baby…baby lookit.”

You were still half sleep, so turning around to see a naked Sanji with his semi- hard cock dangling 5 inches from your face made you peer up at him.

“Sanji, I told you if you wanna use me while i’m sleep use me.” You tried turning over, voice still sleepy, he wanted to laugh a little at youur drowsy voice but shook you some more.

“N-no Y/N. It’s this. This bruise you left. I think you left a hickey on me.”

That woke you up.

Sanji was shocked, and excited all at once he nearly forgot he had to get dressed to start cooking. He couldn’t stop praising you for leaving your mark on him.

“Y/N can…can you do this again”

“What?”

“IT’S GANNA WEAR OFF SOON I WANNA KEEP IT”

You on the other hand couldn’t be more embarrassed. You didn’t mean to suck his dick THAT hard. You probably should have stopped the first time you heard him scream.

Luffy

It’s very hard to leave a hickey on him at all with his rubbery ass body, you have in the past but it took A LOT of trial and error.

When you did finally pop off and away from your boyfriend’s pelvis you felt a little pride erupting from your stomach seeing a tiny little purple spot form on his shaft.

“I did it!”

“Did what.”

You never really told Luffy you wanted to leave a dickey on him. You kept it as your own personal goal so you didn’t know how to properly explain it to him

“You can do that?!” Luffy immediately sees the hickey on his dick and starts CRACKING UP as if he didn’t just cum like a whiney slut a few seconds ago.

“You’re like a puffer fish!”

“Shut up, Luffy!”

It just tickles him to know you sucked on his dick so much just to leave such a small mark. It wasn’t bad at all, but funny none theless. Now he actually expects a dickey from you.

Which.

Have fun with getting lock jaw everytime you go down on him now.

Zoro

Didn’t even know it was possible and neither did you so when you when to experiment Zoro damn near started actually moaning and whining due to overstimulation.

“O-okay okay okay fuck—you tried long enough! We can’t—FUCK—-!”

You were determined to leave that damn hickey, your mouth was wet and covered in drool, his cum, and your lips started to swell a little. Luckily you loved sucking him off anyways so this was just another Tuesday for you.

You really wanted to leave a pretty mark on his tip.

And that you eventually did.

“HA!” You smile, face wet, teary eye’d and flustered. You rub your thumb on the tip of the sensitive dick and it causes Zoro to grab your wrist.

He was absolutely exhausted.

“You got it. Please….fucking stop.”

“You’re so lame. But look! I did it!” 😁

Zoro just doesn’t understand you or the point of why you had to damn near suck the soul out of him for a bruise that’s ganna wear off in a few hours.

….He does like looking at it though. It reminds him of his slutty little girlfriend.

Law

He bruises very easily.

So this wasnt too hard you actually leave him in dickeys all the time

and everytime you point it out he hates it.

every

single

time

“I hate that fucking word.”

“I think it’s cute. Like your dick.”

“ENOUGH.”

Doesn’t get the point of it, he thinks you’re a sadist for it. You tend to bruise him up a LOT when you both get intimate.

He does get a little shy when you point out how good of a boy he was taking it. It’s almost as if he loves being praised and marked by you.

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kisakis-boyfriend · 6 months

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Scenario thirst/request: It’s already canon that Kaveh can’t handle his alcohol, but once he gets together with Reader he seriously needs to be cut off. Bars are gonna start denying him service bc instead of his normal complaints about some work client, he’s now complaining to any poor soul in the vicinity about how Reader’s cock is so big it’s impossible to take. Also won’t shut up about how they haven’t fucked him in ages (since yesterday) so they obviously think he’s hideous and don’t love him anymore. To top it all off he’s literally saying all of this while draped over Reader’s lap. He won’t stop whining until Reader drags him out the tavern and fucks him stupid in the alley around back.

Pairings: Kaveh x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Kaveh, handjob, biting, whiny Kaveh, semi-public sex

Genre/Format: Smut; Short scenario

Author's Note: Your mind 😳 I want to break Kaveh so badly ugh

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

The plan was to have a casual drink or two at the tavern, order a bit of food and maybe split a dessert with your beloved. You should have known better than that...

Now your beloved was whining to the tables next to yours about how your “ginormous monster cock” was just too biiiig! He can't handle taking the entire thing in his little ass but you make it fit anyways 🥺

The guests look on with irritated expressions and you mouth apologies at everyone...Kaveh's weight is sprawled out across your lap while he continues to moan and groan that it's “so so soooo biiiig–” You pinch the bridge of your nose and gulp down more of your drink as Kaveh's slender fingers tug at your shirt, drawing your attention downwards

The saddest, most pathetic expression makes it's way onto his face as he complains that, “You haven't fucked me in foreeeverrr- D'you not like me anymore...?” He slurs, pouting and sniffling. Another patron seated across from you makes eye contact and smirks, shaking their head. Everyone in the damn building can probably hear your partner's voice, seeing as alcohol tends to make him louder than usual...guess there's only one way to fix him now

“Heeeeyyy...don't push me off of– Aah!” Kaveh's startled noise draws even more attention towards the two of you as you drag him out of the bar by his arm. Passing by the owner and tossing a large pouch of mora onto the counter for all of the trouble. The blond protested the entire way out, attempting to grab the door frame so that you couldn't drag him along, though he was a bit too drunk to see straight enough to grab anything...

“Ow, owowow ooooowww!! Y/nnn...what's gotten into yo-oouu...?” Kaveh hiccuped. Your eye twitched in annoyance while your hands found their way onto the wall next to your partner's head, caging him in

“What's gotten into me? What's gotten into you! Mr. ‘My partner's cock is too fucking big uwu’?!” You whisper-yelled. Boring into Kaveh's accusatory eyes as he stammered, trying to form a response but getting cut off by your strong hands flipping him so that his torso was now pressed against the nearby wall. “If you're going to embarrass me in front of dozens of people, then I'm going to embarrass you in this alley. Whatever attention you draw is your own fault.”

At first, he did try to stay quiet, but your cock was actually pretty big and it caused him to have loose lips, especially with the added intoxication from a few drinks...

Kaveh's ass was red and sore after a while of pounding him into oblivion. Your dick was reaching all new places inside of him as you slid in and out vigorously, using every bit of leverage at your disposal to fuck into him faster and rougher, even if it meant that you'd have to carry him home afterwards. Whatever it took for your own tipsy mind to find peace with this punishment

Several instances of footsteps were heard during all of this. Probably people that picked up Kaveh's loud wails and moans, screaming “Cum-cumming—!! ” multiple times as you jerked him off while destroying his hole. His poor, sensitive shoulder was littered with angry bite marks from your own orgasms across the night. All of this would serve as a reminder the next morning; a reminder to work on biting his tongue whenever he drank

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

#my writing #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact #kaveh #kaveh smut #kaveh x reader #sub kaveh #male reader #dom reader #top reader #scenario #requested

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lina-lovebug · 1 year

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You Are Mine

Na'vi! Quaritch x fem! Na'vi! Reader

All sentences in italics are the Na'vi language.

Background: Reader was kidnapped along with the kids and is Neytiri older sister. Quaritch wouldn't let her escape and became his direct line into the world of Pandora.

You still couldn't believe it. That monster, that bastard, was somehow alive. And when he dared to lay hands on the kids, you made sure he would have a reminder of what pain he would experience the next time that happened.

You bit his neck. Hard.

"You do this with all your partners, sweetheart?" Quaritch smirked at you, the blood gone but the marks of your fangs still scarred onto his skin.

I hissed in retaliation, a reminder that I was not to be tamed.

"Leave her alone!" Spider hissed, protective over his aunt. You adored Spider and saw him as your son.

I never got the chance to make a bond. Despite my parents' best efforts to pair me with Tsu'tey, you wanted to bond for the sake of love and trust. And I knew well that Tsu'tey did not love me, so I was seen as a lone Na'vi.

"Do they hurt?" Spider questioned, referring to the restraints on my wrists and ankles.

"I am fine, do not worry about me. Besides, this sky bastard would not know a woman's touch if it was shoved up his ass," I smirked and Spider laughed.

"What? What's so damn funny?" Quaritch questioned.

"Stupid oaf," I giggled, knowing he couldn't understand shit.

"It was nothing," Spider insisted.

"Tch," He walked away, leaving you and Spider.

Quaritch hated to admit it, but you were a damn beauty. He remembered you vaguely from his human memories, seeing you land on his ship and fire two arrows straight at two pilots. The fear he felt knowing you could have pulled out one more and struck him, but didn't and left. A fierce Na'vi warrior who was strong and willing to kill for her people, plus the looks were an added bonus.

"What do we know about her?"

"Her name is (Y/N), she's the daughter of the previous leader of the Omaticaya, Eytucan and the Tsahik, Mo'at. Her mother and sister, Neytiri, are her only living relatives-"

"So she's Mrs. Sullys' sister?" Quaritch chuckled and looked back at you, who was staring out at the forest.

He could have guessed, judging by the similar faces, but you were taller and much more. . .up close than Neytiri. Sure, Neytiri literally got the closest you can be by killing him, but you were his captive.

Meaning he could get information from you.

"So you are Neytiris' sister. Could have guessed from the mark you gave me," Quaritch approached me in my cell, shutting the door behind him. My tail flicked, in tune with my nerves, as I only stared at him.

"Much prettier, I will admit," He sat down next to me, to which I scooted away and kept a sharp gaze on him.

And did not respond.

"So sorry about your father. My condolences. I did not mean to cause such harm," My chest rose higher, feeling angry that he thought he could even speak of my father.

But still, I stayed silent.

"You're pretty close with my son. Did you raise him?" He crossed his arms together, but my eyes traveled to his neck. When his comrades tore me away, my fangs dragged and tore the skin open.

"Do you even speak Engli-"

"Your language was too easy for me. It shows just how intelligent your species are," I responded in perfect English.

"Why tha-"

"It was not a compliment," I cut him off, my stare deadly and my lips in a firm line.

"And Spider is not your son," I knew Spider, and he was the kindest soul. He wanted so badly to be Na'vi, but he had a human body. It did not discourage him and that is why I was proud to call him my own.

"So you did raise him then. You taught him the language?"

"Rather mine than yours," I retorted.

"I'll take that as a yes. Look, I'm hopeless with this stuff, and in order to better connect with him," He got closer.

"I would like you to teach me. I want to bond with him - the way we were meant to. Could you help me with that, sweetheart?" His hand went to grab my hair, and my hands went to grab his wrist and restrain him.

But he did so to me.

My shackled hands fell against the wall, and he stared down at me. His hand grabbed my chains and pushed them upwards, against the wall.

I hissed, bearing my fangs but all he did was chuckle.

"I can do this all day, sweetheart. I won't let them torture you, as a thank you for raising my son, but," He moved his face closer to my own.

"Don't think for a second that you're getting out of here."

It had been three months and he still spoke like a baby.

"Nari!"

"Narni."

"No!" My hand went up to smack his forehead and he grabbed my wrist, frustrated.

"This is stupid. I'm clearly saying it right!"

"No, you are not," I expressed. We had these lessons twice a day in my prison, and as a reward, he would let me out for a day. I still had my ankle shackles on but it felt nice to move around.

"As much as I would love to agree and get you out of my sight-"

"Aw c'mon, sweetheart, you don't mean that," He expressed, his hand still around my wrist.

"I ain't that bad to look at," And his teeth grazed my wrist, over my veins and his eyes. . .oh great mother, his eyes looked at me in such a way only mated pairs should.

"You-You-"

"Cat got your tongue?"

"Tch," I tore my wrist away, "your behavior is very inappropriate. Only mated pairs should look at each other like that."

"Mated pairs?" I sighed at his question.

"When a woman chooses her man, and he in return, they then bond and become Mated for life," It was a simple yet perfect way of life. That is all you wished for yourself and any other Na'vi.

"You don't fool around? Have a taste of anyone else?"

"Your culture seems to think that is all love is, but you are wrong. You know when you have found your mate, and it is like no other feeling. You will do anything for your mate and your children. Na'vi women are noted to become feral when their child is in danger and are considered the most dangerous creature," You saw now Neytiri loved her children and even when they had the smallest scratch, she became so protective of them.

"How do you guys mate? Just attach your braid things?" He was genuinely curious and it made me smile, but not enough for him to notice.

"Guess you're a happy woman then," He was a bit bummed, as you were beautiful, and your spirit is strong.

"I am not mated. Many men were killed the last you were here," I admitted, the fall of my people still bringing a light mist to my eyes. Many friends, and even my own father - all lost but never forgotten. They were all with Eywa now.

"You have sex," I stated bluntly, "and you share your memories."

"Hmm. . .good to know," I watched as he got up and made his way to the door.

"Oh, and (Y/N)? I was checking your pulse. You do find me attractive," He chuckled, leaving as I recalled his fangs grazing over my veins and my cheeks flared.

"As if, you bastard!"

"Can you look away?"

"And let you escape? I'm not that fucking stupid."

I rolled my eyes at my captors, who were allowing me to bathe in the natural spring waters because I did not like their mechanical baths.

I moved further into the water, making sure my body was covered. Only my eyes were up above as I moved behind the waterfall, and I caught Miles Quaritchs gaze as I disappeared.

The cool water brought a smile to my face as I bathed, using soap we made from the land and relishing in the cleanliness.

"Having fun?"

I gasped, dipping back down into the water as I saw Miles Quaritch move his body into the waterfall, his shirt off.

"Don't worry, I covered my eyes, sweetheart. Just making sure you aren't running away," He said, averting his gaze.

But mine lingered.

It was shameful, for sure, but my eyes lingered on the water droplets that traveled over every muscle of his chest.

"Why did you hate us?" I asked quietly, and he looked at me.

"Why did you come here?" And kill so many.

He let out a sigh of sadness, like he himself did not know.

"I know my memories say that it was for money. I could see through his eyes that all he saw were disgusting creatures in the way of his goals," He seemed ashamed, like he didn't want to be that man but his memories and name force him to remain that same person.

"Do you hate me?" I asked, my body fully out of the water but his eyes did not trail my body. His eyes remained on mine, and his gentle hand came up to my chin.

"Never, sweetheart."

I knew I was in deep trouble. The many times Miles Quaritch came to visit me, and the many times I got to know him - he was a changed man. I could see it in his spirit. He came to adore my planet and our ways, but those around him would not allow him to fully embrace it. It would mean he would abandon his mission, and they would kill him for it.

Which is why I was unsure of my own heart.

I was his prisoner. I was his captive, and yet I felt my heart race anytime he looked at me.

Neytiri would be disappointed in me.

Father would be disappointed in me.

Mother would not be able to stand the sight of me.

Which is why I was crying.

It was late and all were asleep, so I sat in my corner and wept. I had fallen for such a cruel man who killed hundreds of my people, and why? Why did I choose him? Because he might have changed? I did not understand.

"(Y/N)? Are you crying?" Once I heard his hushed voice, I wiped my tears away. The lights remained off, but we could see each other as our bodies gave off the bioluminescent glow.

"Go away, Quaritch."

"If you need anything, you can ask-"

"I do not want anything from you. I want to go home," I hissed, trying to move the focus from my tears.

"I. . .you know I can't let you do that," He sighed, conflicted with himself.

"I do not understand," I whispered, and he grabbed my chin and had me look up at him.

"Understand what?"

"My heart," I admitted, "it wages war with itself."

"Why?"

"You have a strong spirit and a kind heart, and you are not the same man you were once were. . .but I do not understand why my own heart is intertwined with yours," I confessed, and his hand on my chin relaxed and he looked shocked.

"Neytiri will hate me," The thought of my own sister shaming me and looking at me with great hatred made me hate myself.

"Don't say that."

"As much as I yearn for you, that does not erase the things you have done," He held me against him as I wept. My nails dug so deep into the fabric of his shirt that it left holes.

"I wish I stayed dead," He admitted.

"Then maybe I wouldn't see so many Na'vi who despise me. I wouldn't fear death every time I saw an arrow. . .but if I stayed dead, I never would have gotten to know you, sweetheart," He confessed, holding my face in his hands.

There did not need to be any other words as he leaned down and captured my lips in his. In this moment, I did not think of how my people would hate me or that my own mother would not love me. I only thought of his soft lips against mine, and how he felt absolutely perfect to me.

#avatar the way of water #the way of water #colonel quaritch #quaritch x reader #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water imagine #miles quaritch

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hotvintagepoll · 3 months

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Propaganda

Heather Angel (The Informer, The Undying Monster)—no propaganda submitted

Katharine Hepburn (Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen)—This woman. I have been obsessed with her for years. I know the urban legend is a popular one at this point of her walking around set in her underwear when her pants were stolen and she was left with only a skirt, but the pants thing is honestly enough for her to be the hottest in the room in my book. She refused to wear anything else at a time when the public in general and especially the studios did not like that. She was independent, stubborn, and so so very capable. Competency kink anyone? Also, if you want one final way that Katharine's entire life was saying "fuck you" to the establishment, it started young! Her mother took her to suffrage events, and she never got rid of that attitude of justice. I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of all the ways she was such a badass that I'm turning into a rambling mess instead.

This is round 1 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Heather Angel propaganda:

Katharine Hepburn propaganda:

I'm sure one million people will submit her as an iconic Hollywood star but that iconicness might lead people to forget just how insanely hot she was like she had it ALL she was skilled she was funny she was smart she was beautiful AND she was likely bisexual

The single word I would use to explain Katherine Hepburn's appeal is *range*. In her acting career, that meant covering all the ground between lush period dramas and the comedies she did with Carey Grant and Spencer Tracey. In terms of hotness, it meant an uncanny ability to bring anything from a Dietrich-esque androgyny to some of the best Classic Hollywood Glamour you will ever see.

Katharine hep was so cool. The VIBES, the INDEPENDENCE,,, living life on her own terms.

she just had this.... bearing to her, this power. she could be funny, even silly (like in bringing up baby) but also so regal and elegant. she was nobody's fool and dear GOD that's so hot

Fancam link

She’s not only stunningly gorgeous (those eyes that pierce your soul! a jawline you could cut glass with!) but her delivery and physical presence in roles gives off confidence and authority in such a sexy way (truly the biggest dick energy of Old Hollywood). Her fiery energy in The Philadelphia Story? Unmatched.

God she's. She's so hot y'all. She has the range!!!!! Funny and dramatic and lovely

She IS the transatlantic accent. Classically gorgeous and such a strong personality.

She's literally one of the funniest women to ever live! She goes shot for shot with Cary Grant in Philadelphia Story and we damn well love her for it! She's the most annoying creature to ever live in Bringing Up Baby but she's so insane and funny that we simply cannot help but fall in love with her (and root for her to give Grant an aneurysm!)

i know she's accounted for but i really want to be sure someone has submitted the scene in bringing up baby where she's pretending to be a gangster

She simply stuns onscreen; you cannot do anything but be captivated by her presence. Also a non-gender-conforming icon and mild tumblr celebrity by virtue of that one picture from The Warrior's Husband (stage play).

Katharine Hepburn was out here casually changing the lives of young butch lesbians with her gender swag! She wore pants even when people said she shouldn’t, she refused to marry or have kids, and she wore menswear in at LEAST one movie!

Someone's got to mention it, but she's won the most Oscars out of any performer and is largely considered one of the greatest actresses ever. She's got an incredible voice, an incredible presence, and she absolutely steals every scene she's in. She was private person and deemed standoffish and unapproachable, but she was also profoundly concerned for people's rights and was an outspoken supporter of abortion access. Finally, the Katharine Hepburn slacks look is just iconic. I mean look at her.

If I start thinking about her face for too long I will cry she is so so hot. Katherine is so charismatic and charming in everything she appears in - watch her adopt a leopard and fall in love with her. Also she has the biggest dick energy ever (she and her pal Lauren Bacall share that accolade). Also had an incredibly long and varied career from screw ball comedies to serious dramas - she’s a queen of the screen and I adore her.

(I hope someone else submits real propaganda but just in case they don't:) Cries. Screams. Wails. The woman who singlehandedly made me realize I was bi. A real "do i want to look like her. be her. or be with her.' crisis, where the answer was all three. Holy shit please all three.

#katharine hepburn #heather angel #hotvintagepoll #ladies 1 #fuck that old woman

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weebsinstash · 5 months

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I'm sure someone more talented than I has made this post before but wouldn't it be terrifying for a yandere in JJK to CURSE YOU with THEMSELVES

A sorcerer's last words can be a curse? Poor Yuuji cries out "but I'll miss you" with his dying breath and suddenly you have an apparition of him all but ATTACHED to you. Is it a monster? Is it the real Yuuji? All you know is that you can't get rid of it and it doesn't like sharing your time with others

Nanami choking "but who will take care of you...?" as he thinks of you in his dying thoughts and, from then on, you swear you feel hands on your body that you can't see, massaging your sore muscles, cupping your cheeks when you cry, helping you bathe-

Coming across a dying Suguru who looks to you, this weak little sorceror that stronger spirits would surely eat alive, a cornerstone of his motivation to rid the world of curses, and he can't help but sigh in frustration at not being able to fulfill his task. "it was all for you..." before he's slipping away, and from then on, you swear your dreams are more vivid and detailed than before, and you swear you can still feel those lingering touches of a man long gone on your body even after you force yourself awake...

Sukuna, who after taking over the body of your friend, murdering others, being the villain to win in the end, winds up finding you about to die from a successful suicide attempt to get away from him, and manages to use his smug mocking words to fill you with so much hatred and malice for him that you can't help but spit "i wish i could fucking kill you" and forever damning your soul to be a spirit of hateful vengeance that he can toy with long after the death of your mortal form

You know, just theorizing the unspeakable horrors of having someone who was already horribly monstrously obsessed with you finding ways whether intentionally or not to follow you around against your will forever as a literal ghost that can touch you and others! Just normal healthy relationship things :)

#yandere jjk #yandere x reader #sinprompts

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 7 months

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Past Astarion Meets His Future

This is a weird ass idea, but I'm doing it anyway. Some time travel fuckery. But the gist is: What if Astarion, decades before the Mind-flayers captured him, was on his last leg? Just on the verge of doing, what was at the time, his only way out. But what if something a little unworldly stopped him?

TW: Suicidal thoughts. M/F, me phoning it in with the dnd lore, Cazador is evil. Like, torture, physically and mentally, manipulation, literal horror shit. He's here so bad things happen to randos and our poor guy. I'm also using this as the backstory again for why Astarion can be in the sun in the future because it's so god damned convenient for drabbles.

Astarion watched the crowded bar with focused eyes, a feigned, relaxed smirk on his lips. But even with the acting, he could feel the smile on his face start to tremble, a tell-tale sign that he was truly on his last leg. It had been a long, horrible night, one that had no end in sight. Cazador was in rare form, demanding multiple warm bodies in the span of less than five hours. Astarion wasn't sure what had angered him this time, but he was taking it on the victims in a particularly savage way.

Twice already he had forced Astarion to stay in the room with the poor souls he'd brought back. And then Cazador... made him watch what he did to them. The monster truly had a knack for keeping them alive until the last possible moment. Beating them, assaulting them, laughing at their cries for help. He drank from them last, feasting on their blood until they were just on the edge of death before tossing to them ground. Then Astarion was dismissed with the order to find another.

He hated it. It was the worst part of his nights by far, not including when he was the one being tortured in their place. It didn't help that he always looked at their faces, full of terror and betrayal.

Why did he always have to look? It was a question he knew the answer to. It was because he did that to them. Perhaps not literally, but what was the difference? Astarion had led them straight into his hands.

That was all he did. His entire existence had been reduced to this. A slave, a rat, scuttling through the streets, only capable of inflicting the same torment on strangers. It was a hell that no one should experience, and one that Astarion had been in for nearly 130 years.

How could he continue like this? What was the point? He'd spent so long living on pure survival instinct, waiting for the impossible day where luck would be on his side. Where Cazador would kill the wrong stranger, where the possibility of his murder could become a reality. It was delusional, a poor excuse to continue clinging to this farce of a life.

But there was another option. There always had been. All he needs to do is wander off and wait for the sun to rise, and everything could finally be over. It's far from the first time he's thought about it. But Astarion is nothing but a coward. He'd seen the pure pain and misery of a death of that nature, your insides boiling from within as your skin turned to dust. It was horrifying, one of the worst ways someone could go. And yet... it was starting to seem like the only reasonable option he had left.

Maybe... maybe today would be the day, the first time he'd seen the sun in decades. And the last time he'd ever take a breath.

"Are you alone?" A voice asked, followed by a gentle touch to his arm.

Astarion turned, that same shallow smile instantly reappearing on his face. It was a man, one that was handsome enough for Astarion to probably not feel completely sick during the deed. Then again... he could always ignore them and go back to his final plan.

Or he could wait it out one more day, and pray for a miracle. Astarion nodded towards him, still slightly torn but willing to at least try. It's not like he could go home empty handed if things turned out that way.

"Come to my room?"

Well this was certainly easy. Astarion didn't even have to take the energy to bite out a subpar pick up line. He just followed the man to his room, a plan forming in his head on how he could convince him back to the manor. Not to mention his own escape if he turned out to have less than savory intentions.

The stranger shut the door behind him, sitting on the side of his bed with his hands folded in his lap, his eyes staring straight ahead. Astarion barely stopped himself from rolling his own. Great. A weirdo. What a lovely way to end the night, spending it seducing a complete freak. But Astarion had dealt with worse. He perched next to him, crossing his legs as he waited to see where this would go.

"I can see it," He finally said, his voice gravelly as he turned to stare at Astarion.

Astarion raised his brow, wondering for the first time if this particular prey had been partaking in some mind altering substances, "And what exactly are you seeing?"

"You."

Suddenly, the man was wrapping a tight hand around Astarion's wrist, his eyes shining with an unnatural green light, "You're close to the edge. Too close. My lord needs you breathing."

Astarion froze, equally parts horrified and confused at what he was alluding to. How on earth did he know his thoughts? What lord? Or the more likely reality; How wasted could one person be?

Astarion tried to pull back, frowning when he realized the grip on his wrist was iron-clad. He could feel a bit of panic start to swell inside him as he struggled, his voice rising, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Let go of me-"

"You must live," He said, the color of his eyes only getting brighter and brighter, near twin flames in the darkness of the room, "There is no other way. Kelemvor has work for you yet."

His confusion was quickly evaporating into rage. He didn't know what this thing wanted from him, nor why the god of death would have any interest in his life. But how dare he insist on Astarion's pathetic existence having meaning. He knew nothing.

His mask was slipping, his righteous anger spilling forth, "Let go. Before I rip your fucking arm off."

But he made no moves to back down. Instead he started to chant, an incantation that had Astarion officially panicking. Whatever magic he was using, it was powerful. Reality was shifting right beneath Astarion's feet, morphing into something different. The next thing he knew they were somewhere else entirely, his reality melting into something new right before his eyes.

The entire thing was so shocking that Astarion didn't even realize he was seeing sunlight. Without a single pain. He frantically looked around, the insane stranger's grip finally loosening as he twisted away. They were on a couch, in the middle of what looked like a brightly lit townhouse, voices spilling out of the other room.

Astarion stood quickly, a hiss escaping him, "Where in the hells are we?"

"Nowhere," The man said cryptically, his eyes still aflame, "Neither the present of the future. We are in nothing but a glimpse, taken and made for you."

That did nothing to answer his question. But it did make his mind go into more reasonable directions. This had to be an illusion, there was no other explanation for why he wasn't being burned alive. But an illusion of what? And for what purpose?

Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose, at a complete loss at what to do. He could try and kill him and pray that that would break the spell. But there was also the chance that he wouldn't live through an altercation with someone who could warp his senses so easily. Or perhaps this whole thing was a nightmare, a horrifying dream he'd cooked up after a night in the torture chamber.

Still at a loss, he settled on asking another question, "Then what is this a glimpse of?"

"Home," The man said simply before slipping off the couch. The cryptic bastard.

He started walking towards the next room towards the unknown voices; Astarion feeling helpless but to follow.

He lingered at the entryway, his eyes widening at the sight of a woman standing there, cooing at a teary-eyed child she had on her hip. They were right in her line of sight, but she had no reaction to their presence, instead calling out into the other room, "Did you find it yet?"

Another voice called back, oddly familiar as it groaned, "If I had, would I still be on my hands and knees here?"

Astarion stepped forward, more than ready to see if he could enlist the help of strangers for his predicament.

"They can not perceive us," The stranger said, interrupting the call for help that was on the tip of Astarion's tongue, "They are not real. Merely copies of what is, what will be."

"Lovely," Astarion growled out, his fingers itching to fight back against this demon of a man, "Now what in the gods' names does this have to do with me?"

"Watch and you will see," He said, his eyes blazing straight ahead, "The Lord of Death works in mysterious ways."

Astarion's theory of this being a torture-induced dream was becoming more and more believable. He didn't even bother questioning it, not when one more inane answer would send him into a tailspin. Instead he stared ahead, waiting for the moment he would wake up.

The baby was still squirming. Annoying whining sounds spilling from its lips, nearly on the edge of crying. But the woman still had a bright smile on her face, calling back "I told you we should have looked for it last night!"

"Well when she threw it across the room I assumed that meant it had fallen out of favor!" That same familiar voice yelled back, followed by an excited ah-ha! sound.

"Isabella's gonna have a fit, isn't she?" The woman sing-songed, bouncing the child on her hip, "I guess Mommy's going to have to let you start sucking on Daddy's hair again, huh?"

"I heard that!" The muffled voice called back, getting clearer and clearer by the moment. And then another man was walking into the room, grinning ear to ear as he held up a pacifier, "And I will not be forgetting it darling. Don't come crying to me the next time she's gnawing on your nose."

He leaned over to kiss the woman on the cheek before popping the pacifier in the girl's mouth, laughing when it instantly made her calm down. He was tall and pale, an elf with piercing red eyes and pure white hair.

No. It couldn't be-

"There. All better," The man sighed, his voice crystal clear in the calmness of the room, "She has quite the arm for a toddler."

It was a voice that Astarion knew, better than anyone else. It was his own.

Astarion watched, wide-eyed as his other self lifted the baby up in his arms, laughing as the child squealed around the pacifier, "She sure is cute for someone who can be such a brat. She takes after her mother doesn't she?"

The woman rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. Almost like she couldn't help but do anything else as she watched the duo, "Brave words for someone of your nature. Not to mention how she's your twin."

"Nonsense. She looks just like you, we should have named her Tav Jr," Other Astarion playfully argued, taking his other arm to wrap around the woman's shoulders, "I'm only responsible for the corpse-like complexion."

Astarion stared at them, in complete shock. He didn't-why would anyone or anything want to show him this? It didn't make sense. How would it be possible for him to be in the sunlight? Let alone to have a family. Astarion knew that this had to be a lie, there was no other explanation.

But that didn't stop his heart from aching from being forced to witness it. He was too shell-shocked to speak as he followed the duo to the other room, listening as his other self set the child in a crib, still cooing at her, "Auntie Karlach is coming over and you'll need your rest. How else will you be annoying together?"

"Astarion!"

He watched himself laugh as he pulled back, kissing her little forehead before murmuring, "Mommy only says my name like that when she has no comeback, isn't that right princess?"

"You're going to regret telling her everything when she can start talking," The woman, Tav, piped up from next to him, "I hope you realize she'll tell me all of your secrets."

Astarion rolled his eyes before pulling her against him, pressing a sweet and lingering kiss to her lips, "What secrets do I have that you don't know? Please, enlighten me."

What kind of cruel joke was this? Astarion, the real Astarion, had seen enough. He turned to the bastard that had sent him here, growling through gritted teeth, "Why are you doing this to me? Have I not suffered through enough?"

The man offered nothing of value, "We offer you what could be, if you can survive. No more, no less."

No. No, no, no. He wouldn't believe him. He refused to. There was no future for him. There couldn't be. I-It wasn't possible. Not with Cazador looming, not when he couldn't walk in the sun without being burned alive. And especially not when he couldn't even fathom letting himself care form someone enough to have a family with.

But that's what was in front of him. He turned back, his morbid curiosity getting the better of him. Just in time to see the couple standing there, holding each other while they made out like teenagers.

"I love you," His other self sighed happily, the words free and unbidden from his own lips between kisses, "More than anything my sweet."

"With one exception?" Tav asked, her arms wrapped around his neck.

Astarion laughed, nodding towards the crib with a knowing grin, "With one exception."

Astarion stared at them, a horrifying feeling starting to grow in his chest.

Hope.

It's the greatest betrayal he could give himself, an eternity's sentence to his own personal hell on the delusional belief that something better would come. He couldn't give in to it. He wouldn't.

But the question still escapes his lips, "How long?"

"Seventy years until you meet," The stranger said, "You must live to see it. Five more until you're here."

Astarion watched, wide-eyed as the alternate reality started to fade, the stranger's eyes becoming more dull and human-like by the moment. He stared until the last possible moment, trying to commit it all to memory.

But it was difficult. Like thoughts he couldn't quite grasp, slipping through his fingers. Something wasn't right.

"Will I remember this?" He asked, even though he was already on the edge of forgetting.

"No," The man said simply. They were back in the room, sitting on the bed as though nothing had happened, "But you'll remember the hope."

It was the equivalent of a curse, one that Astarion could barely fathom as magic twisted his memories. But he could feel it there, festering in his heart. The yearning for a new life, stronger than ever.

Astarion left Shar's Caress that night feeling dazed and confused. He barely managed to drag a wasted loner back to the manor with him, preying on him in the back aisles. It was startling to think that he'd almost forgotten his original mission considering the consequences. But whatever happened had... done something to him. Something that he couldn't quite name.

But he didn't see the sun that day. Or the next. Or the day after that. Instead he continued to struggle, to suffer at the hands of his sadistic sire with no end in sight. Not until years and years later, when the worst and best thing to ever happen to him occurred. He was kidnapped by mind flayers, but gifted with a disgusting parasite that allowed him to live in the sun.

It wasn't ideal but it was better than being under Cazador's thumb. Not to mention how he found companions relatively quickly. It had been pure luck that you stumbled upon him, even luckier still that you were the type to forgive a man for having a knife to your throat.

He was happy to accompany you. He was happy to do whatever it took to increase his chances of survival, frankly. It helped that he felt... strangely drawn to you. You looked oddly familiar. He didn't know how else to describe it, but it was almost as though he'd met someone from a past life.

#astarion #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #what kind of christmas carol fuckery is this?#I'm having a kids moment #but hey isn't writing where you can explore the things you don't know if you want or not yet #heavy leaning towards not because my ass isn't locking down an astarion man #time travel?#what is this #idk #practice writing dont judge me #queue

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see-arcane · 8 months

Text

The Harkers have got me fucked up. Not just from how much they're going through. Not just from how well they know each other.

But in how much is not being said. How much that appears to have been missed.

Mina has just made their friends swear to euthanize her. In front of Jonathan, who she knows cannot/will not make said promise aloud, though she tries to fish it out. A funeral service, yes, but no more than that. She takes the wins she can, relying on the others for the sacrificial slaughter while she pries what she thinks is some mote of acceptance of the Worst Case Scenario in Potentia from Jonathan. Perhaps she's read the vampiric vow of his journal by now. Perhaps not. Perhaps she already suspects either way and wants desperately not to see him damn himself, damn both of them, to avoid raising a killing hand to her.

She is going into the dark. What kind, she does not know yet. But she knows--thinks she knows--she has taken some measure to save her soul and Jonathan's. God's will be done. (Piety trembles in her heart, a fear trying frantically to still look like faith.)

Jonathan, meanwhile, is in Hell.

As it was in the castle, there are some miseries too deep to dwell on for him to stomach writing them down. Hence his tapping Jack to record it all. But the silence from him here, bar the dodge of the promise that goes against his private vow, bar the reading of the burial service, sinks deeper than any horror he suffered from the Count in person. What can he be thinking now?

I made this all possible. I opened the door to England for him. Showed him how to spread his poison. Failed to strike a killing blow when I had the chance. Slept frozen and useless beside her as he drank and made her drink. Lost him by inches in Piccadilly. Now I am here, listening to her claim so sunnily that any man of old would murder his woman to save her from the enemy's touch, as if asking for a trifle. All the while I sit contemplating a hellish betrayal, holding my heart over her wishes, over sanity, humanity, Heaven and Hell. Contemplating worse.

(The kukri is very sharp by now. In time it will have so fine an edge that no one would feel its cut before their head toppled off. Be they in a coffin or a friend with their back turned. Sickly, he finds the thought cold and placid in his mind. Is he not already damned for what he's allowed? Is he not already slated for the Count's collection? He knows whose blood it was on the monster's lips on that final dawn in Transylvania. And when he dies...)

I imagine he has to stop himself from making a mirrored request to the others right there. Has to stop himself from handing Mina the Bible and asking her to read it out for him. If she is lost, he is lost. It is not merely undeath that he would follow her into--whatever she is, wherever she goes, so must he be, so must he go.

Read it for me now, darling. You laid it all out so eloquently. I am already lost but for the wait for the grave. Come everyone, while we're here. Two funerals. Two sets of oaths. I can perhaps save you half the work, if I fall neatly enough on the kukri. Pry it from my heart and take my head when the time comes.

But he bites his tongue. Does not touch his pen. Does not risk heaping another weight on his love who is already crushed beneath existential terrors that are being thrust on her by the actions of others. She does not know what he is planning, even if she suspects it by half.

What she knows: Jonathan cannot raise a hand to her. (He would have me as a monster than not exist at all.)

What he prays she never will: Jonathan will be anything she is. (Mortal. Monster. Dead.)

One last secret to keep.

All the way to the grave.

#I'm fine I'm great I'm having a lovely time #mina harker #jonathan harker #holiest love #dracula #re: dracula #dracula daily

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