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sumju · 10 hours
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I got inspired again by @nottheweirdest Coming home fanfic and it turned into this. Idk hahaha
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juli3ette · 2 days
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🔞COVER YOUR EYES!!!!!!🔞
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HOLY FUCK I FORGOT I MADE THIS AWEBJJWDCNJWDCDWCJBIWDCJKDWCKJNCDWJKNCDWKJNDCSJNK
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melodyidk · 4 hours
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Salvation for the damned
Priest!Sanji x fem!Reader smut
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Minors, do not interact!!!
Author's note: This is my first smut, go easy on me. I'm not used to actually posting what I write. Ever since I saw Hunnismoker's fanart of Sanji as a priest I haven't had a WINK of sleep. She has unleashed something feral into the world.
Warning: if you're uncomfortable with themes of religion, I'll advise you to scroll away.
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"What is troubling you, my child?"
Sanji fancied himself a man of God. From a young age, he knew his role in life was to serve The All Mighty and help lost souls find the right path again.
He gave an Oath, and swore his body, mind and soul to The Lord, in promise to never stray from the path of light. And Sanji was a man of his word. Hence why he was sure you were sent by the Judge Of All, to test his strength and devotion.
Oh, you were the most angelic being he had ever laid eyes upon. Or at least so he thought, because, in truth, he saw you as a temptation crafted by The Devil specifically to torture him. And as much as he prayed and kneeled before God, begging for expiation, you wouldn't leave. As hard as he cried out to the heavens for a chance to atone, his screams were never heard.
You would always creep into his dreams, where he was most vulnerable, and force him into sin. You were a foul succubus, the daughter of Satan, and you have come to ensure his fall.
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"Father, I must atone for these terrible sins I've committed against the Holy One."
He hadn't expected you to turn up so late, looking deeply troubled near the Church's entrance. He let you in without a second thought, and as soon as you reached the altar, you dropped down to your knees, your hands clasped together, looking up at him in desperation.
His face softened and he smiled ever so slightly. He was glad you finally decided to turn yourself over to The Light. Sanji lifted his hand over your head and spoke with firmness in his voice.
"Speak now child, lay yourself bare before The Lord and share your troubles. Pray that He may forgive you."
He felt closest to God during confessions. It was as if The All Mighty spoke through him, accepting the wrongs of those before him into his heart and engulfing them in pure holy light.
"I've been plagued by impure thoughts, Father. The sin of Lust and Desire has claimed me and shackled me in its repulsive hold and I have become its slave."
Through the silence, a shaky breath was all that could be heard. Sanji felt his body shudder and pool in a cold sweat, a chill running down his spine. His knees were so weak he thought he might keel over any moment now, had he not been holding Saint Patrick's Cross so tightly in his other hand.
Taking a deep breath in through his nose, Sanji composed himself. Right now, he had to help this poor woman redeem herself before The Lord.
"Very good, my child. The first step to redemption is seeking out the forgiveness of God. Stand."
You did as you were told immediately, without asking a single question. Good. The expectant look in your eyes could melt the resolve of the most cold-hearted man, had you only wished to do so.
"For your heinous crimes, you shall face punishment, and you shall suffer, and you shall be freed. Now, are you ready to carry out God's task?"
Oh, that spark in your eyes. He could almost feel the devotion radiate off your body into zaps of energy. Almost. "I am ready, Father. I swear that I will do whatever it is The Lord asks of me."
Before you even finished speaking, he had already turned around and instructed you to follow him.
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Not before long, you found yourself in his private quarters. Just as you were about to question why, he called out to you, and you answered. Sanji was sat at the edge of his bed, looking up at you with a gentle smile adorning his face.
"Kneel, child."
You sank back to your knees, reaching out with your hands and hesitantly placing them atop his own, all while looking at him. He extended his hand to you and gently cupped your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
Breath caught in your throat, you dared not utter a word, lest all kinds of sinful thoughts escape through, in-between your teeth.
"Do you know what you must do?" You could feel his thumb brush across your plush lips and pull the bottom one down.
"Yes, Father."
Sanji felt your hands drag up his thighs and settle on the zipper of his pants. He held back a groan at the feeling of your hands on him, inhaling sharply once you pulled his cock out and sat up on your knees to press a featherlight kiss to the tip.
You licked your lips and pressed one more kiss to it before wrapping them around the head, sucking lightly. He let out a gasp and shut his eyes, basking in the way your perfect lips wrapped so well around the head of his dick. Sanji felt you pull away and opened his eyes only to see you spit on his cock and wrap a hand around to stroke him. Your palm so soft and gentle, your pace slow and sensual, easing him into the feeling of your skin pressed to his. He was trying so hard not to let out soft moans of pleasure as you touched him, your skin igniting a spark in him that ate away at his soul deliciously so.
He could feel sin seep through his skin and into his heart, pulling him away from all that he deemed right, enticing him to beg for more. But he couldn't allow it, couldn't allow to lose himself to such carnal desires.
His resolve, however, faltered the second you took him into your mouth again. Enveloping his cock in its warmth and continuing to stroke whatever you failed to fit with your hand. Sanji let out a whine, and pressed his palm to the back of your head, keeping you in place. You had long since closed your eyes, basking in the feeling of him filling up your mouth, making you imagine what it would feel like for him to bury himself deep inside you and claim you as his.
Oh, you've dreamed of him for so long. You knew it was wrong to want a man of God, selfish, to wish he'd devote himself to you instead. You'd stay awake at night, desperately pumping your fingers to feel even the slightest relief, but your body knew what it wanted. And it wanted it badly.
Whatever you did, you couldn't satisfy your hunger for the man, and tonight, after hopelessly trying to chaise you high for hours and failing miserably, you decided enough was enough. You had to see him.
Snapping back into the presence, you moved your tongue against him, hearing him let out yet another sinful cry, tears threatening to spill over his eyes. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing. Sanji tugged on your hair, and a moan escaped your throat, making him mewl in ecstasy.
He could feel a knot begin to form, like a balloon ready to burst, so he pushed you away, panting.
You looked up at him, confused. Had he not enjoyed himself? Did he perhaps change his mind? Maybe he finally realised how wretched you were.
"Come, sit." You wasted no time in hastily removing your bottoms and straddling his lap. Sanji placed both his hands on your hips, pressing gentle kisses to your neck and collarbone. A sigh left his lips when he felt your fingers swiftly undoing his ponytail and running your fingers through his long, golden locks of hair.
You aligned yourself up with his cock and sank, taking him in inch by delicious inch, filling yourself. Once you finally fit him all inside, a breath of relief left you.
He was still pressed closely to your chest, holding you tightly and squeezing your hips as if you'd disappear should he let go. And his grip became tighter once you started moving. Sanji felt like he'd lose his mind by how tight, wet and warm your walls were, pulsating and squeezing around him and greedily sucking him in.
"Father...please." Your voice was so weak as if the wind was knocked out of you, leaving you gasping and craving for more. He groaned and tried to meet your hips with his, thrusting up into your cunt in chase of the pleasure engulfing him whole.
"Fuck, you feel so good my sweet." He was quickly losing himself in you. Breathing in your scent and feeling it fill up his lungs, it was almost as if his mind was spiralling into insanity.
"Call me by my name...Let me hear you say it." You could barely register what he was asking of you, too drunk on the feeling of the man you've been craving for so long finally giving you what you've been wanting.
"Sanji, please don't stop." A shameless whine interrupted you. You couldn't form coherent thoughts anymore. All you could think about was him and how good he was making you feel.
He just kissed your forehead and began fucking into you harder, hitting that special spot deep inside you every time. He knew you were close by the way you tightened so much around him, it was evident.
"I know darling, 'm close too. Fuck- Been dreaming about this pussy for months. Been dreaming of filling it up to the brim with my cum. Is that what you want love? For me to paint your insides white?"
All you could do was throw your head back and moan like an animal in heat, desperately moving your hips to chase that high.
"Use your words, sweetness. Tell me you want it." He didn't falter in his movements, keeping up the brutal pace and abusing your cunt, set on hearing you.
You locked your eyes with his, barely able to keep them open. "Want your cum Sanji, please give it to me. Want you to fill me up." He groaned, hearing you barely get out the words, too focused on the pleasure he was giving you.
"Since you asked so nicely, you better take it all." You could feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as you tipped over the edge, his words alone making you lose your mind. You moaned out his name again and again, like a prayer and he felt that knot finally snap.
With a final thrust of his hips, Sanji came, spilling deep inside you, painting your walls white. You felt your insides warm up as you milked him of every last drop until he was spent.
With both of you panting, he gripped your face with one hand to make you face him again and asked. "What do you say now?"
"Thank you, Father."
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cornedbeefhashtags · 5 months
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gloopqueen · 4 months
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Tomorrow when the farm boys find this freak of nature, they will wrap his body in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north field with his mother. It is a perfect summer evening: the moon rising over the orchard, the wind in the grass. And as he stares into the sky, there are twice as many stars as usual.
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xanderindisguis · 3 months
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This is actually so fucking stupid I can't believe I spent my whole day on this. I am NOT finishing it
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owowowowwoowoowow · 1 year
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tinytauris · 4 months
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WHY IS PIERRE'S GHOST JUST PROJECTED IN THE BACKGROUND
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snoopysnose · 11 months
Photo
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How did you know?
TWIN PEAKS
S02 E09 Arbitrary Law
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nibordereht · 1 year
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Tim: Is your masculinity fragile or why is your costume blue?
Dick: Tim, what—
Tim: Mine is red, almost pink.
Tim: I'm a real man.
Jason: Then Superman is gender fluid?
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otterpuppss · 4 months
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hmm
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jiyaneru · 11 months
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when you wake up, i'll be gone again
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virtualmish · 3 months
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Käse🧀🧀🧀
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ratsiclesss · 4 months
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come to cross guild we got the transgender community
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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.
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astarions-wife · 4 months
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ASTARION SAYING THIS ONLY TO BURN UP A FEW SECONDS LATER??? CRUEL. CRUEL CRUEL CRUEL. IM DEVASTATED. HE LOOKED SO HOPEFUL TOO.
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