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aenramsden · 1 month

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The following is not my idea; it was the original brainchild of a friend of mine named Omicron, with help from various others including EarthScorpion, TenfoldShields, @havocfett and ShintheNinja:

So, you know what I want to do one day? Run (or play in) a D&D campaign in which the Big Bad Super Dragon that is fuckoff ancient and unfathomably powerful and whose actions have shaped history and bent the course of nations and had repercussions on the whole culture and society in the region where it's set; the Bonus Special Boss for some endgame optional quest after you defeat the direct BBEG and win the campaign...

... is a white dragon.

To explain this for people not deep into 5e monster lore; D&D dragons are sapient beings, and known for their instincts and tendencies, and whenever you meet an big evil dragon that's really old it's usually this ancient creature of terrible intellect Smaug-ing it up all over the place.

Except white dragons are fucking stupid. Like, they're still capable of speech and thought! They're just… feral, hungry morons. And you almost never see them portrayed as ancient wyrms for that reason; they lack majesty. Critical Role did it, yes, but even then, Vorugal is explicitly the most bestial member of the Chroma Conclave, and the others are the more intelligent planners and long-term threats. An ancient white as a nation-defining endboss, though; not a thug for a smarter master but as the strongest and biggest threat around is just not the sort of thing you tend to see.

Adventurers: "Oh wise Therunax the Munificent, gold dragon of Law and Good, what can you tell us adventurers of the evil dragons which rule this land?" Therunax the Munificent, 500-year old Gold Dragon: "Good adventurers, know this: this land is torn apart by the evil of Tiamat's spawn. The eastern marches are the dwelling of Furinar the Plague-Bringer, black dragoness whose hoard is a thousand sicknesses contained in the body of her tributes. The southern volcanic mountains are the roosting of Angrar the Wrathful, the fiery red dragon, who brings magmatic fury on all who do not worship him. And the northern peaks are home to Face-Biter Mike, the oldest and most powerful of all, of whom I dread to speak." Adventurers: "F-Face-Biter Mike???" Therunax: "Oh yes, verily indeed; two thousand years has Mike lived, and his eyes have seen the rise and fall of five empires, and a hundred and score champions have sought to slay him; and each and every one he bit their fucking face off."

Like... I want to see a campaign where Face-Biter Mike is genuinely the most powerful dragon in the region, if not the entire world. Where sometimes he descends on a city to grab himself some meatsicles and causes a localised ice age by the beat of his vast wings and the frigid wastes of his mighty breath and by the chill his mere presence brings to everything for miles around him, and everyone just has to deal with that for the next decade. An entire era of civilization comes to an end, an empire falls, tens of thousands starve in the winter, all because Mike wanted a snack. Where his hoard is an unfathomably vast mass of jewels and artefacts and precious stones frozen in an unmelting glacier, except he is a nouveau riche idiot with fuckall appraising skill, so half of his hoard is coloured glass or worthless knicknacks, and he doesn't give a shit.

"Your Draconic Majesty, this crown is… It's pyrite." "Yeah, well, it's brighter than this dusty old thing made out of real gold, it's my new best treasure. Throw the other one away." "…throw the Burnished Tiara of Bahamut, forged in the First Age of Man, your majesty???" "See? I can't even remember its fucking name." "But my lord-" "DO YOU WANT TO BE A MEATSICLE" "…I will fetch a trash bag, your majesty."

But at the same time, he's not stupid, he's just simple, and in some ways that makes him more dangerous than the usual kinds of scheming Big Bad you see in these things, while simultaneously justifying why Orcus remains on his throne (because he's lazy). Face-Biter Mike doesn't make convoluted plans or run labyrinthine schemes; he just has a talent for violence and a pragmatic, straightforward approach to turning any kind of problem he struggles with into a problem that can be resolved with violence. Face-Biter Mike has one talent and it's horrifying physical power, so his approach to any complicated problem is "how do I turn this into a situation where I can fly down and bite this dude's face off?" with absolutely no regard for the collateral damage or consequences of doing so, because those are also things he can turn into face-bitable problems.

"My lord, the dread necromancer Nikodemion is using his undead dragons to attempt a conquest of the eastern kingdom; his agents are everywhere, his plans are centuries in the making, what can we do against such a mastermind?" "I'm gonna fly over the capital and eat the eastern king." "M-my lord???" "The kingdom will collapse without leadership, Nikodemion will win his war, he'll take the capital and crown himself king." "And that helps us… how?" "Once he does I'll fly over to the capital and eat him." "…" "This is why you advisors all suck. You're all about convoluted plans when the only thing I need to win is know where my enemy is so I can fly down there and eat him. Stop overthinking things."

And, like, yeah, it's a simplistic plan, but when you're several hundred tons of nigh invincible magical death, you don't need brilliant strategy; the smartest way to win a war is, in this case, the simplest. He's not even all that clever at figuring out the consequences of face-biting, he's just memorised the common consequences of doing so.

(If you want to go all in on Mike being the major mover and shaker in the region; Nikodemion only even has a pet zombie dragon because Mike killed the last dragon to show up and contest his turf but wasn't going to eat a whole dragon by himself. Nikodemion got to stick around and amass that much power because Mike ate the Hero of the Realm while he was adventuring because he figured the Hero would come and try to slay him at some point. Nikodemion got started because Mike ate half the leadership of the Academy of High Magic who typically keep evil wizards and necromancers in check. And then eventually this product of Mike's casual, careless actions becomes a big enough problem to bother Mike personally, at which point Mike eats him too.)

He doesn't even really fail upwards, either! He is regularly reduced to nothing but the glacier he stores his hoard in, but he's Face-Biter Mike so nobody wants to commit to actually ending him forever lest they get their faces bitten the fuck off. And his hoard's in a huge-ass magical glacier so nobody can get to it without running into the Invading Russia problem; it's hard to wage war when everything is frozen over and you're both starving and freezing to death. Once he's been beaten back to his central lair and has lost all his holdings… I mean, he's still a problem, but he's a far away problem. So he loses his assets and spends a decade in a cave brooding it up while no one dares risk trying to actually kill him, and then a generation or two later he flies down to a kobold colony and gets himself some minions, or a dragon-worshipping mage comes to offer his service against a pittance from his hoard, or a particularly stupid cult starts thinking they can get in good with him and leech off his power, and then he's (hah) snowballing again.

He's also got a very… well, the kind of weird Charisma that Grineer bosses do. Like Sargas Ruk, who's a malformed idiot, but oddly charismatic. As he's a dragon, that makes him a natural sorcerer and thus Charisma is all he needs. He's pretty relaxed when he isn't in a face-biting mood, and he's kind of infectiously optimistic, because his life has taught him that he will succeed as long as he perseveres. So he just believes it.

And sometimes that's really refreshing to work for, as an evil minion of darkness! It's like, you're coming to your Evil Dragon Lord with terrible news; you've worked for evil overlords before, you know how it goes. You fall to your knees weeping and tell him that you've failed to seize the incredibly powerful magical artifact, you think your life is forfeit. And he's just like "Eh, it's okay, these things are all over the place. Better luck next time. You remember the guy who took it, right?" and you go "Y-yes, oh great lord!" and he's like "Sweet tell me his name later and I'll grab it" and then eats a frozen adventurer he kept around as a snack.

His followers tend to quickly realise that if they fail him, bringing some temple's silver or a sack of brightly coloured beads or a couple of dead cows means he's super forgiving because at least he's got something out of the day. "Oh boy, cows? It's been forever since I had those, ever since the Orc Steppe Nomads took over it's all about goats and onions. Today is a good day." He's a master of delegation by dragon standards, in that he just tells you "Just go get it done, I don't care how" rather than micromanaging you and constantly appearing as an image in smoke or taking over your campfire.

The key part of Face-Biter Mike as a threat to players (because he exists in the context of a D&D campaign) works well in that you can rely on several known quantities:

He will not pull sneaky shit that you don't see coming

He will not make convoluted plans that you must work to unravel

He will consistently attempt to come down and wreck you personally if he finds the opportunity and you are a threat to him

You cannot fight him head-on (at least not until the last leg of the campaign, and ideally as an optional boss rather than mandatory)

So as long as you are good at staying under the radar, thwarting his minions (whom he gives broad orders to with almost zero oversight) and not putting yourself in face-biting range, you can deal with him. If you succeed, it won't be the first time Mike has lost his assets and had to go brood in his glacier for a decade or two before rebuilding. It happens; he can deal with it. And that's a win for you within the context of a single campaign, so take the win.

And if you're not going to use him as an enemy, he works pretty well as a quest-giver, too! The costs for failure are obvious and straightforward, and "do whatever, just get me mine" means that players have a lot of freedom in accomplishing their goals. As far as evil overlords go he is actually one of the least dangerous to work for; his pride is relatively subdued by draconic standards, his goals are simple and typically achievable, and he is easily pleased.

(There's also a good chance he is the forefather of any draconic sorcerer in your party, because Face Biter Mike is a deadbeat dad.)

#d&d #face-biter mike #I want this #writing #gaming #advice #funny #criticism #fandom

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burningvelvet · 10 months

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it is a lovely coincidence that june is pride month as well as the anniversary of the time lord byron, percy and mary shelley, claire clairmont, and john polidori all gathered around at the villa diodati on lake geneva in 1816 to tell each other ghost stories and write some of the greatest literature in history while waiting out the nightly summer storms during what was known as “the year without a summer” due to a volcanic winter event after the eruption of mount tambora a year prior

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outofgloom · 16 days

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"Lord Tuyet"

The Lord of Flame scoffed at first, but soon came to see her side--sooner than anticipated. Only a small sea’s worth was required to drown his volcanic halls and quell his arrogance...

She departed with pledges of fealty, as she'd been commanded, thankful to leave those dry lands.

She'd been efficient. The Great Being wouldn't expect her so soon. There was no need to rush. After all, hadn’t he mentioned other Element Lords...a Lord of Water?

That had a nice ring to it...

And it seemed she had time to kill.

#bionicle #art #outofgloom #tuyet #works

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devildomwriter · 2 months

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Ain’t No Mountain High Enough | Mammon x Reader

3.4K Words | GN! Reader | CW: mentions of sickness, some suggestiveness | Romance/Humor

When your common cold turns out to be something much more dangerous Mammon rushes into lava-flooded land to find what he believes is your only chance at making it out alive.

Another cough echoed through the house and Mammon flinched. He clicked his tongue in annoyance but Lucifer knew he was only worried.

“They’re still sick?” He asked for the millionth time that day. Lucifer sighed, tired of hearing the same question every few minutes, and nodded.

“Mammon, for the last time—“ he began but his office door swinging open cut him short.

“Lucifer,” Diavolo exclaimed making the two brothers jump.

“Lord Diavolo?” Lucifer asked, unprepared for his sudden entrance.

“I’m afraid I have some unpleasant news—“ his words were cut short by another gaggle of hacks and coughs from the other side of the house.

“That’s, ___, isn’t it?” He asked, brows furrowed in distress.

“Yes. Their cold hasn’t gone away,” Lucifer confirmed and Diavolo shook his head as Barbatos entered the room, equally concerned.

“That’s why I’m here, actually,” Diavolo frowned and Barbatos stepped up to explain in his place, seeing how upset Diavolo was.

“It’s not a cold.” He stated and Mammon jumped to his feet.

“Huh? What is it then?”

“If you’d let me explain,” Barbatos scowled but in his panic, Mammon wasn’t phased.

Lucifer clenched his jaw anxiously and Barbatos continued. “It’s the Hell-Magma Virus.”

“The what?” Mammon interrupted again and this time Lucifer glared at him too and yelled at him to quiet down.

“The recent volcanic eruptions in the third layer have released a slew of ancient viruses. This one is akin to the common cold and relatively easy for a demon to recover from, however—“

Another cacophony erupted from your room as you coughed and cleared your throat continuously. You struggled just to clear your airways from the drainage so you could breathe.

Leviathan cautiously walked into the office while Satan strode in as if he belonged there. He walked up to Diavolo and demanded answers as he’d been eavesdropping.

“You’re not even gonna hide the fact you were listenin’ in?” Mammon scoffed and Satan rolled his eyes.

“As if you wouldn’t do the same.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s different—“

“Mammon shut up!” Lucifer scolded.

“Why only me?” Mammon yelped.

“Quiet!” Satan, Lucifer, and Leviathan yelled simultaneously.

Barbatos shook his head at their quarrel and continued. “The medication we’ve acquired was made from flowers at the bottom of the volcano before the lava burned what was left. We don’t have a strong enough variation of this medication to cure ___.”

“So, we’ll call for Simeon,” Lucifer suggested but Diavolo shook his head.

“This virus…it’s more of a curse, there’s only so much Simeon can do. This curse which acts as a contagious virus will continue for at least twenty days. The medication for demons should clear up their symptoms in three days but for ___ that will be too late. The effects they are experiencing now will worsen until their saliva bubbles and the accumulating mucus in their throat becomes hot enough to burn through their lungs—“

“Aaaah! I don’t wanna hear it!” Mammon cut him off. “Just tell us how to fix it!” Rather than scold him, his brothers agreed and they looked pointedly at Diavolo and Barbatos.

“Well, we’re working on a medication now with aid from our magic but it would be beneficial for us to have more of the magma-glories to work with.”

“Right, got it! Where are they!?” Mammon exclaimed, ready to run.

“Hold on, Mammon,” Lucifer warned.

“There should be more in the fourth layer. However, it’s too dangerous to teleport there as we can’t be sure the lava hasn’t spread anywhere we attempt to land.” Barbatos explained.

“Flying isn’t an option either. The plume of smoke and ash will make it impossible to see or breathe,” Diavolo continued.

Lucifer clenched his fist, “Then I’ll figure something out,” he growled and Diavolo nodded.

“Right, why don’t we call Solomon,” Satan advised and they agreed. All except for Mammon who was already out the door.

“Where did Mammon go?” Lucifer asked, already knowing the answer.

“That idiot…” Leviathan mumbled.

Leviathan left to tell his brothers what was happening and they rushed to your bedside as their older brothers and wiser friends discussed what to do.

You continued coughing and groaned in agony. You felt like you were choking and not even Simeon’s and Luke’s angelic powers could cure it; they could only keep it at bay enough to let you lay down again without suffocating.

You saw their worried expressions and knew something was different, it wasn’t just a cold.

“So—“ you croaked. “Wh-ats, hap-ppen–ing?” You struggled to speak as your throat scratched with every word.

“Well…” Asmodeus bit his lip and looked away and Levi looked at the ground while Beelzebub stayed silent.

You could only wonder what was threatening your life this time around. Tuesday was the last time you nearly died, it was Saturday, and you’d gotten sick Wednesday. That didn’t take long at all, did it…

“Well…” Belphegor tried to explain when Solomon burst through the door to your room.

“Eek! Solomon, give us some warning!” Asmodeus cried out. Solomon ignored him and instead rushed to your side.

“My poor apprentice,” Solomon cooed sadly, but then he grinned and held up a glowing purple vial.

“N-o!” You choked.

“It’s not food,” Satan explained walking in with Diavolo, Lucifer, and Barbatos. You sighed in relief and Solomon frowned.

“I could make you some soup though—“

“There’s no time for that nonsense,” Lucifer hissed and the sorcerer sighed and fed you the potion.

“What is that?” Leviathan asked and Lucifer sighed, more relaxed than he had been.

“It’s the cure. Solomon made it the last time it went around in the Devildom, just in case he could catch it. He didn’t…so he still has it and now it’s very potent due to the amount of time.”

“Wow, really?” Asmodeus gasped. “How long has that been?”

“Hey, there! There’s no need to go explaining my age to them,” Solomon waved, silencing him in an instant. Solomon turned back to you in bed and ignored the question.

Your sickly pale, pasty skin, ten shades lighter than usual began regaining its normal color. Almost immediately you felt the strength to sit up, but as soon as you did, the nausea came in full force. You bent over the trash can, vomiting what seemed like an eternal river of mucus that burnt through the trash can.

“Eek!” Asmodeus screamed in fear and disgust and the brothers looked away uneasy.

Solomon was shocked, “it’s already gotten so bad?”

Barbatos shook his head amazed, “I see. Thankfully ___ is significantly stronger with their pacts and the help of Luke, Simeon, and Raphael.”

“Yes. Thirteen was keeping an eye on their candle too,” Solomon informed.

“That’s cause she wants ___’s soul.” Belphegor chided.

“That’s true, but she doesn’t want it right now,” Solomon argued for Thirteen’s sake. Thirteen wanted your soul as much as anyone but more than that she wanted to enjoy your presence and life much longer.

You rubbed the crust from your eyes and Beelzebub gave you a wet rag to wipe your mouth as Belphegor pulled your hair back.

“Hey…where’s Mammon?” You inquired and everyone looked at each other.

“Oh…somewhere in the fourth layer surrounded by active volcanoes,” Satan said nonchalantly.

You spit out the water Asmodeus had just handed you and he shrieked and wiped his face off.

“What do you mean!?” You demanded.

“Well you see, before we got in contact with Solomon, our options were to experiment with lesser medications we had or to create more potent ones.” Barbatos explained, “We needed a special flower for that, so Mammon ran off to get it.”

“Active volcanoes? He slips down the stairs at least once a week why in the three worlds did you let him go alone!?” You panicked and Lucifer looked guilty.

“He’ll be back when it gets too hard,” Leviathan clucked and you shook your head.

“No, he won’t! It’s Mammon we’re talking about!”

“Exactly,” Belphegor sneered.

You shook your head and glared, “Right! So you should know that when it comes to me Mammon will do literally anything.”

They all fell silent as they thought it over and realized you were right.

“Oh…so he’s probably,” Leviathan muttered.

“At the volcanoes…” Beelzebub worried, frowning.

“Ugh…” Belphegor sighed but was the first to speak up, “Let’s go get our idiot brother.”

Everyone nodded, “Right.”

They began to shuffle out the door but you stopped them before they could leave.

“Wait! One thing!”

“Yeah?” Leviathan asked, worriedly.

“All of you need to promise me—no—you must obey me when I tell you—do not let Mammon know you cured me.”

The six brothers immediately nodded, subjected to your power, but Solomon looked puzzled. “Oh, and why not?”

You frowned, “because…I want Mammon to think he saved me. He tries really hard and…”

“Falls flat?” Satan huffed.

“Fails?” Leviathan stated.

“Disappoints us every time,” Lucifer grimaced.

“He tries?” Asmodeus questioned.

“Enough!” You barked. “Mammon tries really hard and I want him to think he saved my life. Especially because if you didn’t conveniently have this vial, Solomon, Mammon was the first one out that door ready to brave flowing lava and poisonous smoke for me!”

“Poisonous?” Belphegor asked.

“How poisonous…” Beelzebub gulped.

“Uh…well I’m not a volcanologist, as cool as that would be, but…” You looked at Barbatos for help.

“Human world volcanoes release ash that can be detrimental to health when inhaled, even having long-term effects,” he began. “The volcanoes also release carbon dioxide which is deadly when exposed to for too long. Here in the Devildom, it’s the same but at more lethal levels. A high-level demon like Mammon should be fine if he inhaled some but…”

“But he’s probably panicking and running around like a moron looking for the flowers,” Lucifer sighed.

“Well, hurry and get him, he might be passed out on a rock somewhere!?” You ordered and they immediately left.

Simeon, Raphael, and Luke stayed behind to monitor you. Thirteen showed up an hour later when she was sure your life candle was stable.

“Which button do I press if there’s an emergency…?” Simeon asked and angled his phone for Luke to look at it.

“The green one! It’s always the green one!” Luke barked, upset he still had to explain these things to Simeon.

“At this point, he’s got to be messing with you,” Thirteen remarked and walked to your bedside, sitting next to you.

You could tell she had been stressed and you squeezed her hand. She blushed and took it away, “huh? What was that for?” She asked and you laughed at her cute response.

“Thank you,” you said and she turned a deeper shade of pink.

“You mean for looking after your candle? Obviously, I’m not just gonna let you die, you’re way too entertaining.”

You chuckled, “Okay. Sure.”

“What do you mean, sure?” She demanded but Simeon’s phone began ringing.

“The green one?” He asked.

“Yes!” Luke threw his hands up in the air, exasperated.

“Calm down Luke, it’s okay,” Raphael patted his shoulder and Luke crossed his arms and huffed as Simeon held the phone out for everyone to hear.

“The speaker, Simeon,” Thirteen reminded.

Simeon instantly looked confused so Raphael hit the button for him.

“Can you repeat that,” Luke asked.

“We found him,” Satan’s voice sounded over the speaker.

Your shoulders relaxed and you let out a deep sigh, relieved your precious but often stupid demon hadn’t gotten himself killed while running around.

“He didn’t even know what the flower looked like!” Leviathan shouted into the phone and Satan scolded him for being so loud.

“And?” Raphael prodded.

“He found it anyway…” Satan mumbled, seemingly not wanting to admit it.

“Wow, really!?” Luke exclaimed and Raphael looked similarly surprised.

“You were right, ___.” Simeon smiled at you knowingly and you blushed.

“How is he doing?” You asked loudly until Luke finally handed you the phone.

“He’s unconscious. As soon as he saw us he passed out.”

“From fear?” Raphael questioned disgruntled.

“IDK, probably relief. Looks like he was trying to call us.” Leviathan responded and you frowned.

“There’s no fucking signal out here what’d he expect?” Belphegor complained.

“Then how are you calling?”

“Solomon has a spell for everything,” Leviathan responded. “Anyway, we’re teleporting back home now, clear the area in your room.”

“My room—“

“Hurry,” Raphael warned and picked up Luke, jumping away to the edge of your room as Simeon and Thirteen scrambled to jump on your bed.

With a puff of smoke the brothers, Barbatos, Diavolo, and Mephistopheles appeared in the room covered in ash.

Mephistopheles started coughing and wiping the ash off himself as much as he could.

“Oh, hey, Mephisto,” you commented, unaware he’d been part of the crew.

“Likewise,” he grumbled, unhappy with his present state.

“Yeah, we found him too,” Belphegor chuckled and Mephistopheles blushed.

“I would’ve been just fine for your information,” he insisted.

“You didn’t even realize you were surrounded by lava you were so busy taking pictures of it,” Satan argued and the purple-haired demon stiffened up and blushed.

“Mephistopheles, please take better care of yourself. It may be a historically large eruption, but still,” Diavolo worried and Mephistopheles straightened up and bowed, offering a strew of apologies as Diavolo awkwardly accepted them.

Lucifer had Mammon slung over his shoulder and you got up from your bed. Your legs were shaky from all the time you’d spent there and Simeon caught your arm and helped you stand up properly.

“Lie back down, he’s fine,” Lucifer ordered but you ignored him and pointed to your vacated bed.

“Lay him down,” you demanded and Lucifer rolled his eyes and unloaded Mammon.

“Great, now your clean bed has ash everywhere,” Asmodeus pouted. He’d been the one trying to keep the room clean for you during your sick days.

You snapped your fingers and whispered under your breath and the ashes shone brightly and vanished into the air. Luke gasped and Asmodeus’s eyes shone as he watched its brief glow.

“Wow, it’s all gone,” Luke exclaimed.

Mephistopheles nodded and thanked you, as he wasn’t in the mood to deal with any more dirt on himself.

Mephistopheles left, still embarrassed, and Diavolo waved Barbatos and the others from the room. Lucifer ordered his brothers to follow and left you with Mammon passed out on your bed face-down.

Before Satan shut the door behind him you made a zipping motion across your lips, “Remember.” You said and he nodded and repeated the motion before closing the door.

You sighed and smiled.

You looked at the demon snoring in bed and rolled him onto his back.

“That can’t be very comfortable…” you said to yourself and with a bit of magical assistance you removed his coat and took off his sunglasses and shoes.

You drew the comforter over him and crawled onto the other side against the wall, waiting for him to wake up.

Mammon was sound asleep for a long time. Asmodeus brought you food and you played on your phone as you waited. Finally, as the sky reached its darkest hour, Mammon’s nose twitched and he began to softly mumble.

Your name poured softly from his lips and you watched him in adoration. Mammon has always been your favorite even when he wasn’t on his best behavior but today you both proved to everyone else that Mammon could be serious and trustworthy. When it came to you, there was no mountain Mammon wouldn’t climb, no sea he wouldn’t swim across, no hell he wouldn’t face…all for you.

You gently planted a kiss on his lips and his mouth twitched. Slowly Mammon’s eyes opened and his vision cleared up. He sat upright and began coughing, “Oh shit! ___! ___’s flower— I-!”

You threw your arms around him, bringing him back to the present, and as Mammon’s heart slowed he realized where he was. He felt your arms around him and immediately held you close to his chest. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and you felt your shirt dampen as he silently cried in relief.

“Y-you’re okay?” He asked.

You nodded, “Thank you Mammon.”

“Thanks? Did—did I do it?”

You nodded and he hugged you tighter, “Thank goodness… thank goodness!” He exclaimed and began laughing as a weight lifted from his chest.

“Don’t worry! What’d I tell ya, Mammon’s got your back!”

You nodded and laughed still hugging him tightly.

“Forever, right?” You asked and he pulled back looking surprised.

“Of course, forever. Did ya ever doubt me?”

“Not even for a second,” you beamed and his eyes sparkled as you leaned in and kissed his lips.

Grinning, Mammon grabbed your hips and moved you closer to him, positioning you on his waist. He moaned softly as he deepened the kiss between you both. He flicked his tongue across your bottom lip asking for permission. You smirked playfully and parted your lips for him. He growled in excitement and began exploring. He grabbed the back of your head with one hand to pull you in as close as he could and when that wasn’t enough he flipped you onto your back and leaned over you.

Mammon explored your mouth with his tongue excitedly until you patted his back, signaling you needed to breathe. Mammon parted unwillingly, a string of saliva still connecting your lips as you panted heavily. You both laughed excitedly to yourselves and Mammon adjusted himself over you, slinking one hand beneath your shirt.

You moaned into his kiss when suddenly the door burst open, nearly flying off the hinges.

“Oh good, I thought you might be awake,” Satan said in a painfully fake cheerful voice.

“Shit! What the hell man, give us a minute will ya?” Mammon shouted annoyed and angry.

“Really, a minute? That’s all?” Asmodeus strode into the room and shook his head. “Poor ___.”

“Wh-hey! Y’know that’s not what I meant!” Mammon protested.

“Enough shouting,” Lucifer hissed as he joined his brothers in your room.

Your face turned red and Mammon finally swung his leg over the bed and got off of you. His hand still lingered on your slightly exposed stomach. He didn’t intend to leave without seeing more of you that night.

His brothers knew this and they had every intention to stop it.

“You guys—“ Mammon tried to protest.

“Is he awake?” Luke asked nearing the room.

“Ah, shit,” Mammon mumbled and you both straightened out your clothes and sat up straight as Luke walked in holding a small cake.

“I made an Angel Cloud cake! For your recovery!” Luke smiled excitedly and handed it to you.

“Ah sweet, looks good,” Mammon commented and from behind Lucifer, Beelzebub nodded slowly, drool running down his chin.

“Let’s split it,” you said turning to Mammon.

His eyes lit up. “Really?” You nodded and fed him a piece from your fork.

“Wh-huh?” Luke blurted in surprise at the affectionate display.

“Okay Luke, they liked your cake, see? Let’s go back home now shall we?” Simeon suggested and pulled Luke out of the room.

“Hey—wait!” Luke protested, but it was too late.

Raphael glared at Mammon and Mammon hid behind you in fear but disguised this as hugging you from behind.

Volcanoes were nothing but a glare from Raphael had him using you as a shield. He was incorrigible. But he was yours and that would never change.

After an hour of banter and talking between you and the brothers they finally left. Each gave Mammon a steely look before leaving and when Satan left last, he slammed the door shut, well aware of Mammon’s intentions.

Mammon ran to the door to lock it and sighed in relief that you were finally alone again.

He turned around to look back at you and grinned playfully, “So…still up for some fun?” He suggested and you laughed and nodded.

“With you? Always.”

Mammon did not separate from you until the early hours of the following morning, and after his actions that day you spent most of your nights this way.

Mammon would eventually find out that Solomon’s vial had saved you but he successfully “redeemed” himself when the vial turned out to be deadly too and another cure was needed. Solomon was kicked to the doghouse again, and Mammon, without too much complaint from his brothers, deservedly got you to himself once again.

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sorrowfulrosebud · 4 months

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Oh lord ya want more.... hmm

Hybrid Bakugou's favorite food, AND his first time eating it!

Like bro was skeptical of it at first when we present it to him, he takes a bite, and then he go's 😍

WAAA IM LOVING YOUR IDEAS DUDE 😭😭💕💕

Katsuki salivated at the meal placed in front of him. Well. At the pork chops that rested in the hot broth of the ramen. The rest of the noodles, fish cake and spring onion was given a mere sniff before he turned his nose up with a grunt.

You smiled at him as he scowled at his plate, growling at the pile of noodles. He was obviously more in favour of a carnivore’s diet. You pass him the chopsticks and demonstrate how to use them properly. He takes them gingerly in a cheap attempt to mimic you, grunting in irritation when the broth splashes his face.

He glares when you dare let out a giggle, almost snapping the chopsticks in half in his frustration. You choke back a laugh, slurping on your own noodles instead. Katsuki eventually finds a good position for holding them, before horking down the pork chop. His eyes practically sparkled at the fatty meat, making little noises as he swallowed it down.

He gets up with a chuff, probably ambling off to play with his chicken. You cough quietly and catch the attention of your pup. Your eyes flicker from his face back to his bowl. His ears pinned back as he looked at you with disgust.

“C’mon Katsuki, pleaaaaaase? I worked so hard to make it yummy for you,” you pleaded. Katsuki shook his head and grumbled. You begged more, eager for the pup to try something that wasn’t just pure meat.

“I’ll tell you what. Try some noodles, and I’ll give you an even bigger pork chop tomorrow. Hell, make that a steak,” you compromised. It was a shitty trick, yes, but you wanted your hybrid to experience every new flavour out there.

Katsuki deliberated. It did smell good, not that he would admit it, but he was still pretty hungry. You caught on to his hesitance. You sat back down and ate your food, smiling quietly when you hear the squeak of the chair on the floor.

Katsuki huffed at the bowl, sniffing it more than licking his chops. He scoops up a bite of noodles before shoving it into his hole.

Your head perks up slightly, eager for his reaction. You didn’t expect stars to appear in your hybrid’s eyes, or for him to STICK HIS HEAD IN THE BOWL.

You giggle when he emerges, the broth having got in his hair as he pants. A singular noodle hangs over his lip as he licks his nose, eager to finish the remains. Volcanic eyes glinted at you expectantly as he pushed his bowl forward.

Your own chopsticks lowered as you looked at him.

“You want more?” You ask him, pleased he enjoyed it. His tail was going a hundred miles an hour as he nodded, nudging the bowl again. Your eyebrows raise as you walk to the kitchen for another bowl.

Only to walk back and find the bastard head deep in your own bowl.

#🥀 rambles #pretty flower bluewolfangel01 🌷#WAAAAA HES SO CUTE #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader fluff #hybrid bnha #hybrid bnha x reader #wolf bakugou fluff #wolf bakugou x reader fluff #wolf bakugou au #katsuki bakugou x reader

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what-even-is-thiss · 7 months

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The thing that bugs me about people calling the volcanic eruption at Santorini “the real Atlantis” just because Plato based part of his inspiration for Atlantis on that island is that we don’t freaking apply that logic to almost anything else. The lord of the rings was heavily inspired by Tolkien’s experiences in WW1 but do we call WW1 “the real lord of the rings”? No! We don’t. Because that would be highly reductive to both the work of fiction and the catastrophic events that inspired it.

#roman said a thing

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basket-of-potatoes · 8 months

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The next one :)

#fantasy #lava #volcano #volcanic #fire #lotr fanart #lotr #the lord of the rings #lord of the rings #middle earth #orodruin

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vivianvixen · 7 months

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Let me just say this [-5]: Even though the [-5] Dark Lord whispers [-5] to me through [-5] the artefact that is [-5] the source of His [-5] sinister power but [-5] also His one weakness[-5] and the extreme heat of the [-5] volcanic third dungeon [-5] is causing me [-5] to take fire dama[-5]ge every turn… [-5]

At least I'm [-5] not in the ocean. [-5]

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st-just · 5 months

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Remember, medieval Iceland was an early attempt at anarcho-capitalist utopia. When Harald Fairhair declared himself King of Norway, the Norwegians who refused to bend the knee fled west to build a makeshift seastead on a frozen volcanic island. No lords, no kings, no masters. Only lawsuits. So, so many lawsuits.

-Your Book Review: Njal’s Saga

#quote #history #funny

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thecreaturecodex · 2 months

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Protean, Renegwe

[My final original species of protean, this time embodying plate tectonics as a manifestation of change. I knew I wanted to do a continental drift-themed protean, and this was one of the first art pieces I found when embarking on this project. As a reminder, all of my protean species have a name that's an anagram. I'll be posting the solutions to those at the end of the week.]

Protean, Renegwe CR 19 CN Outsider (extraplanar) This massive creature appears like a snake with a humanoid torso, its body composed of black volcanic rock. A snort hood grows between its head and neck, and a pair of horns like bent stalagmites grows from its head. It shimmers with heat.

A renegwe is a protean devoted to some of the most dramatic changes in the cosmos—plate tectonics. Renegwes are the shepherds of whole continents, observing them move over the course of thousands or millions of years, and steering them if their whims dictate they speed up or slow down. Rather than the immediate thrills of transforming a person into an animal, or the destruction of killing enemies and overthrowing governments, renegwes prefer the gradual pleasures of growing mountains, eroding canyons and rock formation. That is not to say that they cannot be dramatic—a renegwe who grows bored with a landmass’ progress might start earthquakes with magic, or heat up a lava reservoir to re-activate a dormant volcano.

Few renegwes care much about the short lives of humanoids directly, but may become territorial of particular mineral deposits and protect them from mining or other exploitation. They might also come into conflict with magical creatures that seek to stop or mitigate the destruction their earthquakes and volcanoes engender. A renegwe prefers to fight atop or within a solid surface—although they can fly, they feel much more comfortable when touching earth or stone. Renegwes spew lava from their mouths and can fire exploding boulders from their hands. They have relatively few spell-like abilities compared to other proteans, and prefer simple melee tactics to pitched battles at a distance.

Renegwes are more common outside the Maelstrom than in it. They dwell mostly deep underground on planets of the Material Planes, or in places where the Planes of Earth and Fire overlap. From these magma-rich bastions, they may plot against the shaitans and efreeti—both of these genies types are lawful, and seek to impose order where the renegwes prefer chaos. Renegwes are natural allies of magma dragons, but these allegiances may be fractious and marked by power struggles. Few renegwes have much interest in the politics of the protean choirs, but may work for a given protean lord on a temporary basis when their interests overlap. The protean lord most sympathetic to the renegwes is Etna, herself a being of volcanic power.

Renegwe CR 19 XP 204,800 CN Gargantuan outsider (chaotic, earth, extraplanar, fire, protean) Init +6; Senses blindsight 60 ft., darkvision 60 ft., Perception +31, tremorsense 120 ft. Aura cloak of chaos (DC 26)

Defense AC 34, touch 12, flat-footed 32 (-4 size, +2 Dex, +4 deflection, +22 natural) hp 330 (20d10+220) Fort +23, Ref +20, Will +26 DR 15/adamantine and lawful; Immune acid, fire; Resist electricity 10, sonic 10; SR 30 Defensive Abilities amorphous anatomy, fiery body, freedom of movement, rock catching

Offense Speed 40 ft., burrow 80 ft. (earth glide), fly 80 ft. (good) Melee bite +31 (2d8+15 plus 2d6 fire), gore +31 (2d8+15 plus 2d6 fire), 2 claws +31 (2d6+15/19-20 plus 2d6 fire), tail slap +29 (2d8+7 plus 2d6 fire plus grab) Ranged 2 lava bombs +18 touch (4d6 bludgeoning plus 2d6 fire) Space 20 ft.; Reach 20 ft. Special Attacks breath weapon (80 ft. cone, 20d6 fire, Ref DC 31), earth mastery, trample (2d8+22 plus 2d6 fire, DC 35)

Spell-like Abilities CL 19th, concentration +27 Constant—cloak of chaos (self only, DC 26) At will—chaos hammer (DC 22), scorching ray, stone shape 3/day—earthquake, empowered flame strike (DC 23), greater dispel magic, quickened wall of stone, word of chaos (DC 25) 1/day—clashing rocks (DC 27), repel metal or stone, wall of lava (DC 26)

Statistics Str 41, Dex 15, Con 32, Int 14, Wis27, Cha 26 Base Atk +20; CMB +39 (+41 bull rush, +43 grapple); CMD 55 (57 vs. bull rush, cannot be tripped) Feats Awesome Blow, Combat Reflexes, Empowered SLA (flame strike), Flyby Attack, Improved Bull Rush, Improved Critical (claw), Improved Initiative, Multiattack, Power Attack, Quicken SLA (wall of stone) Skills Bluff +29, Disguise +26, Fly +25, Intimidate +29, Knowledge (geography, planes) +23, Perception +31, Sense Motive +29, Survival +29 Languages Abyssal, Draconic, Ignan, Protean, Terran, telepathy 100 ft. SQ change shape (dragon or elemental, elemental shape IV or form of the dragon III), no breath

Ecology Environment underground (Maelstrom) Organization solitary, pair or geoform (3-6) Treasure standard

Special Abilities Breath Weapon (Su) Any creature that takes damage from a renegwe’s breath weapon is coated in lava, taking 10d6 points of fire damage for the next 1d3 rounds (no save). Change Shape (Su) A renegwe can change shape at will, but does not gain the healing from changing shape as is typical for proteans. It can only assume the form of dragons or elementals with the earth or fire subtypes. Earth Mastery (Ex) When both a renegwe and its opponent are touching the ground, the renegwe gains a +1 bonus on attack and damage rolls. Fiery Body (Ex) A renegwe’s body is blazing hot. It deals 2d6 points of fire damage with all of its natural attacks, and any creature striking it with a melee touch attack, natural weapon or unarmed strike takes 2d6 points of fire damage. Lava Bombs (Su) As a standard action, a renegwe can fire two lava bombs, one from each hand. Each lava bomb is treated as a ranged touch attack with a range of 200 feet and no range incremenent. A creature struck takes 4d6 points of bludgeoning damage and 2d6 fire, and then the lava bomb explodes, dealing 10d6 points of fire damage in a 40 foot radius (Reflex DC 29 half). If a creature is in the radius of both lava bombs, it makes a single save at a -4 penalty, and treats the fire damage as coming from a single source. A renegwe can use its lava bombs once every 1d4 rounds. The save DC is Charisma based.

#protean #renegwe #outsider #elemental #lava #plate tectonics #pathfinder 1e

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dokoni-mo · 2 years

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The Throne || Darth Vader x GN! Reader

summary: he can sense your burning desire.

NSFW // smut

word count: 3713

warnings: thigh-riding, dom/sub undertones, established relationship, secret relationship, praise, cursing, unfair power dynamics, inappropriate usage of the force, mentions of canon-typical violence, fear, very brief and slight degrading, aftercare, soft vader, minor spoilers for Kenobi episode 3

a/n: listen i can't be the only one that thought of this during this scene. also please bear with me if this isn't that good,, i don't write smut very often

~~~

Mustafar. Volcanic planet located on the Outer Rim with rivers of lava cascading all over its rich, black surface. With temperatures so hot enough to burn the inside of your lungs, it's virtually impossible for any living lifeform to thrive upon it. Its one of the last places anyone would want to go.

Yet, for some odd reason, you found yourself there frequently.

It wasn't what you were expecting when you joined the Empire. It wasn't in the slightest. Upon recruit not too long after the Republic fell, you were just expecting to be a solider. Another cog in the wheel. You had signed up just hoping to get any sort of security in a galaxy of seemingly never-ending hostility. You didn't even agree with the Empire. You were just scared of what would happen if you didn't join them.

Perhaps that is what drew him to you. The smell of your fear.

You had always thought you were good at hiding it. You learned how to make sure it didn't show on your face; in your posture. But god damnit it was hard in the Empire. It was even harder around him. Granted, you didn't expect to be assigned maintaining his squadron of troopers so quickly, so you had very little time to prepare yourself. You often found yourself wondering: if you did have time to prepare back then, would it have gone any different? Would you have gotten reassigned by now? Would you have caught his eye like you did? Would the two of you had grown so close as you did?

But, more importantly, would you be in the position that you're in right now?

Growing close to him, you soon found yourself following him everywhere he went. He would make it a point to bring you every single place he went to. And, made it even more of a point to have you close at all times. Even during important meetings where you weren't allowed to be present, he would order you to wait by the door for him to return. Or wait for him to send someone to come and fetch you. It was only then were you allowed to go anywhere else.

This was another one of those times.

You had been waiting outside that room for what seemed like hours. With the hunt for that Obi-Wan guy going on, you were sure that he had a meeting about something related to that with one if not all of the inquisitors. You had heard a lot about them through him; just how useless and weak they were. Of course, you knew despite all of his complaints about them, they were still a force to be reckoned with. They were orders of magnitude more powerful than you. But, of course, compared to him, they were nothing. And you knew that was ultimately what made them get on his nerves.

But, all the same, he still had to deal with them. And whether it was because he wanted to spare you the headache, or simply because he just couldn't let you in on that information, he had you wait outside for him to finish.

You had figured it was going to at most be a few minutes. That, however, turned out to not exactly be the case. The ache in your legs told you that it had at least been a decent while, coupled with the fact that you were growing tired of the view. Mustafar was beautiful, in a very odd, foreboding way. But even with a view like that, you grew tired of waiting. Especially because you weren't allowed to do anything but wait.

Sometimes, it was a painful trade-off; the relationship you had with Lord Vader. But would you trade it for anything?

No. Never in a million years. Call yourself crazy, but you had grown fond of the sith lord after all this time. And, at least to you, he had grown fond of you as well. There weren't many people you were fond of anymore. That being the case, you made it a point to cling onto him like grim death. And if that meant tolerating his busy schedule, along with saving face and doing as he commanded when the two of you were in public (in order to not arouse any suspicion from the rest of the Empirical army), you would happily oblige.

Eventually, after letting what felt like the thousandth sigh that day escape through your lungs, you heard the faint sounds of boots clacking against the shiny, polished ground come around the corner, making your ears perk up at the noise. Turning to look over your shoulder, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment when you discovered that the footsteps didn't belong to Lord Vader. Instead, they belonged to one of the stormtroopers that had been stationed outside the door, his blaster held tightly to his chest as he addressed you.

"Commander (L/N)?" the trooper said, getting your attention, "He's ready for you now."

You hoped your eyes didn't reveal the excitement that bubbled up from deep inside you. Giving the trooper a quick nod and a soft thank you, you made it a point to watch the solider leave before you made any moves. He liked to know that when he got you to himself, there was no one around that could potentially ruin the experience. It used to make you scared; knowing that if he flipped his switch one day and killed you, there'd be no one around to hear you scream. But, over time, you found yourself agreeing with him on that.

You liked being alone with the Dark Lord.

Perhaps you have gone crazy.

Your boots clacking against the floor, you rounded the corner to the entrance to the room, stopping briefly in front of the closed doors to punch in your clearance-code. A green light flashed at you when the last of your numbers was punched in, and the large, metal doors parted to open up for you. Immediately, you were greeted with a flash of red light from within, emanating off the windows to the outside world. Stepping into the room, you were greeted as well with the sight of the man of the hour. Lord Vader was perched in the middle of the sleek, dark room, sitting in the equally-as sleek and dark throne in the middle of it all. If it weren't for the few lights within the room itself, coupled with the deep crimson coming from outside, you wouldn't have even noticed that he was there. As soon as he saw you come in, you felt his gaze from behind the mask fall upon your smaller frame, the sound of his rhythmic, mechanical breath filling your ears.

"Commander (L/N)." he rumbled out, not moving an inch from his seated position as he continued to stare ahead at you. This earned a soft smile from you as you reached down beside the doorframe, pressing a few buttons on the control pad to close the doors behind you and lock them there from the inside.

"There's no need for the formalities, Vader." You responded as you pressed the last few buttons on the controls, "I made sure everyone was gone when I came in. It's just us now."

From the corner of your eye, you could see him relax a little more in his seat as you crossed your arms over your chest. Leaning against the doorframe, you were able to get a much better look at him now. Even sitting down, he still had his iconic intimidation factor. And, he still looked huge. He was a very large man to begin with; over six-and-a-half feet tall, all that bulk and armor. Maybe sitting down only amplified just how big his muscles were, because god damn. He really could make anyone feel small. Without even trying.

Interesting.

"How'd it go?" you asked him, lifting up your legs and bending them at the knee one by one to stretch them out.

You watched as he settled his back against the expanse of his throne, his hands loosely balling up into hard, leathery fists.

"I find myself growing more impatient with their incompetence by the hour." He rumbled out, his tone making it clear that he was quite frustrated after that meeting. This made you breathe out a sympathetic yet amused smile with a shrug.

"That's understandable, though." You replied, "I mean, they aren't you, Vader. I'm telling you: You should just go out there yourself, find him yourself. It'll save a lot of people a lot of hassle. And you'd find him a lot quicker."

He let out a low rumbles at your words; a sound he made when he knew that you were right.

"I am afraid I am assigned those fools by order of my master." He said. The mention of that man made you roll your eyes. Yeah, he was your boss, but from what you knew from Vader, he liked to make things unnecessarily complex just for grandiosity. Hell, you weren't even his apprentice, and you were annoyed with him You couldn't imagine how Vader felt about it. But, it was clear to you then that at the very least, he was beyond frustrated about the whole matter. He would never outwardly say it, but you just knew he was.

He didn't have to say it for you to know.

Picking yourself off of the doorframe, you clacked your boots over to where the Sith was sitting, kneeling down in front of him from in-between his long, muscular legs to be more at eye-level.

"Hey," you said softly, smiling up at him from your crouched position as you laid your soft hand on top of his own sat overtop his armored knee, "I'm sure that they'll pull their act together soon, alright? I mean, they have the most intimidating boss in the Galaxy. Surely that's enough motivation for them to get the job done. If not, well, just remind him who their boss is."

Vader stared down at you without a word, his mask pointed right at your face as he gazed down at you. You noticed how his breath in his respirator hitched briefly shortly before he spoke again.

"You have quite the outlook on such matters as these, (Y/N)." He rumbled out. Lifting up the hand that wasn't underneath your own, he reached down and gently cupped your face in his mechanical palm, earning another soft smile out of you from beneath him.

"I'm just telling you how it is. And I just know what you like to hear." you retorted back, leaning your head into his palm as you felt his thumb gently rub back and forth upon your flesh. Shifting your weight onto your knee, you released the hand you had on the one in his lap, replacing it with one on top of the one he had on your face, giving it a gentle squeeze. You relished in the brief moment of silence that fell overtop the pair of you before you spoke again, softer this time.

"I missed you today." You nearly whispered out, just loud enough for him to hear through his helmet. It was very much the truth; you had missed him. Even though you weren't gone for that long.

You watched as his head tilted to the side.

"Is that so?" he questioned. If you weren't paying attention, you would have missed the slight hint of amusement in the back of his voice; in the way the hand on your cheek tightened ever so softly. You nodded in response, feeling your face heat up at his words.

He let out another rumble, sitting back in his chair ever so slightly. He slipped his gloved hand from off your cheek, trailing his long, thick, robotic fingers down the length of your jaw. They found their new home resting upon your chin, the bone being held firmly yet gently between his thumb and pointer finger as he tilted it upwards towards his mask. Getting a good look at your flushed face, his thumb began to travel across your smooth, plump skin, gliding itself over your bottom lip and gently tracing the bottom of it as well.

"Perhaps I have been too neglectful of your needs as of late, commander." He said to you, his voice just a touch deeper than the normal dark, deep bass that it is.

Retracting the hand off your face, Lord Vader fully leaned back in his chair, fixing his posture to sit as straight as possible. The sith pushed his hips out from his seated position, making his legs extend out from his chair just a tad bit more. He snaked his hand down onto his large, thick thigh, patting the material that covered the muscle a few times as an invitation.

"Come."

Obeying his demands, you stood up from your kneeling position, stepping in such a way that each of your legs were on either side of his large thigh. You sat yourself on the midway point between his knee and hip bone, finding the seat rather comfortable despite being so menacing. Unable to quite get your balance at first, you rested your smaller hands on his chest, on either side of the panel of buttons that adorned his solar-plexus. The sith made note of how you seemed to be unable to find your proper balance and decided to help. Reaching out to you, you felt him place one large, strong, gloved hand on either one of your hips, giving them a squeeze of approval as he rubbed his thumbs into the bone underneath your clothing.

The Dark Lord seemed to simply admire you for a moment, perched on his thigh before him. He could feel the way your hands trembled lightly as they laid upon his chest; see the way your eyes were already glazed over in want. He was a busy man. he didn't get to be this close to you as often as he wanted to be.

That's why, when he did get the chance, he was keen on making it memorable.

Your lips parted as you felt his hands begin to travel up and down the expanse of your waist, the way his fingers ghosted over your back making you shudder in the cold, dark room. Your smaller body was warm under his touch, him able to feel it even through all the different layers of clothing and armor that adorned the two of you. Even though you couldn't see exactly where he was looking, you could feel his eyes on you as you felt his hands travel slowly down your back, stopping only briefly to give your hips and butt a tight squeeze.

"You seem unsettled, little one." he spoke to you, making note of the way your hands laid against him, alongside the bend of your brow as your face heated up some more.

"I-It's just been a little while, my lord." you responded back, feeling how his hands traveled back upwards to rest on your hips once again. He let out a rumble of approval at your verbiage; at the way you addressed him. You knew he liked to be called that during times like these. And he knew that you knew. This only added to his satisfaction. But still, the the tone of your voice, he could tell something was wrong. You were nervous. You were right in saying that it had been a while. He's a very busy man.

But then again, there's no need to fret, small one. Lord Vader would never do anything to hurt you.

Not unless you asked him to.

Lord Vader reached up one of his hands and brushed the side of your cheek with the back of his knuckles, "There is no reason to worry, my sweet. I have promised you long ago that I would always take care of you."

The Dark Lord placed his back on your hip.

"Now, allow me to prove it to you, little one. Follow my lead, and don't stop until I say. Otherwise there will be consequences."

Before you could blabber out a response to him, you felt his grip on your hips grow tight, enough to where you knew there would be bruises there in the morning. Without warning, the sith begun to grind your hips down onto his thick, muscular thigh, rocking you back and forth in small motions as your clothed crotch ground against his leg. The sudden motion made you gasp, your hands palming at his chest and shoulder armor as a desperate attempt to keep you balanced. After the initial shock of the sudden pleasure between your legs, you began to rock your hips along with his assistance. A plethora of soft, quiet moans and whimpers escaped your lips, your face heating up even further as you heard your sounds ricochet off of the walls of his throne room.

"There you are, my sweet, there... Keep going, pet. Give yourself to me." Lord Vader commanded you, giving you one quick bounce of his leg and watching you gasp again, but this time a loud, breathy moan following it. Embarrassed by making such a lewd noise, you bit your bottom lip as you tried to suppress your whines, curling your waist as you tried to grid against him further.

Seemingly displeased with you trying to hold back your voice, you watched through blurry, need-filled eyes as the dark lord snaked one of his hands up your body. It only stopped once it reached your chest, the sheer size of it nearly engulfing the entire expanse of your ribcage. Without much of a warning, you couldn't hold back your needy cries as he started to knead and grope at your chest.

"You said you know what I like to hear, correct?" he asked you, only it was phrased as if it were a demand, "Then act like it."

A pang of fear at his displeasure shot through your body. You has yet to see what a punishment from him looked like, and you found yourself not very keen that afternoon to see exactly what it would be. Following his demands, you nodded your head in response and kept your moans vocal without any shame. At the loss of one of his hands, you were finding it hard to balance on his thigh again, making your movements more sloppy than what he would have liked. As a solution, you felt the air around you grow tense as he reached out with his power, using the aid of the force to keep you in place.

Your face looked helpless as you continued to gasp and moan at every stroke along his leg, your cries just has helpless as you.

"F-Fuck- ahh fuck, my lord..! Please, don't stop! So good..!" you blubbered out in between your moans, your hips desperately trying to keep up with his pace.

"Look at you, darling. What a mess you are. You are doing so well for me, little one. Good... keep going. Obey me and I shall reward you." He rumbled in response, his hand on your chest gripping and massaging in all the right places.

After a good while of following his movements, you could feel the old, familiar coil winding inside your stomach. It made your movements more erratic, even to the point to where you were moving your waist much faster than he was guiding you. Feeling your increase in pace, Vader knew that could only mean one thing. To help you along, he began to bounce his knee at random intervals, finding it quite amusing the way you would gasp each time. Your fingers on his chest gripped onto him with nearly all your strength. Your moans had grown louder by the second, only this time you didn't care how embarrassing it was.

It was only him, you were giving them to, anyway.

"I sense that you are close." He said to you, almost so nonchalantly that it made you wanna scream. You tried to respond to him as best you could, but the only thing you could blather out through your thick, lusty haze that crept across your being.

"It is alright, my star. Let go for me. Show me just how I and I alone make you feel."

With that, you let yourself go for him, relishing in the orgasm that ripped itself through your body and forced a plethora of moans escape your lips. Your orgasm made your body go weak, the pure, raw bliss coursing through your veins rendering you unable to move a muscle. To help you ride your high, Lord Vader pushed your hips into his thighs a few more times, his mechanical breath far more ragged than before. He watched as you rose and then came back down from your state of euphoria, watching you without a word as your chest rose and fell beneath his touch as you panted. As he released you from his hold on you through the force, he gently reached out and guided you down to lay against his chest, sensing that you would be far too weak to sit there on your own.

Your body was hot against his, and your small hands grabbed at any part of him that he could reach. With your body in toe, he leaned against the back of his throne, one hand stroking through your sweat, dampened forehead whilst the other held onto you, his arm snaked around your torso. He could tell that you were quite tired now as he rumbled out a few short, small praises to you, not expecting any sort of response in return. Which, for the moment he was fine with. You had done so well for him. It would just be cruel to have you keep going in a state such as this. After having you, he felt much more charitable than he normally did at any given moment.

And whilst sitting upon his throne? In his castle, on his planet on his edge of the galaxy? With his little darling so cutely in his arms?

How could he not be in such a better mood?

~~~

#star wars fanfiction #darth vader x reader #star wars x reader #darth vader x you #star wars x you #anakin x reader #anakin x you #darth vader smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #star wars smut

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