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pa1nrema1ns · 2 months ago

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Opiate² || Sung Jin-woo (18+ One-shot)

Featuring: Yandere!Priest Sung Jin-woo x Fem!reader

If you want to get your soul to heaven Trust in me now, don't you judge or question You are broken now, but faith can heal you Just do everything I tell you to do

Summary:

“What you feel in your heart, the yearning you have for this man, it’s only to be expected. You are flesh and blood, malleable and weak to temptation. As am I… If you would indulge me, may I ask who it is that you covet so deeply?" “He—he is a man of faith,” you stutter, “someone I should have no business thinking about.” Father Jin-woo’s reply is sharp enough to cut bone: “But you still want him all the same, don’t you? This forbidden fruit of yours?”

♱ Word count: 5.8k

♱ A/N: It's finally here! My first, full-fledged smut fic, and I am beyond excited to share it with you all! Once again, I want to thank the incredible @ekkurea. She completely knocked it out of the park with her drop-dead gorgeous rendition of Father Jin-woo. She is an amazing artist and an absolute joy to work with. I highly recommend visiting her gallery and commissioning her.

I also want to thank my lovely friend and beta-reader @heyimkana for brainstorming ideas and offering encouragement during the writing process of this piece. Her help and insight has been invaluable, and I am extremely grateful for her support.

♱ Content warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, piv, body worship (giving and receiving), canon compliant AU (hunters and gates exist; Jin-woo is a retired hunter), afab!reader, dirty talk, religious themes and imagery, blasphemy, sacrilege, manipulation, possessiveness, voyeurism, gratuitous praise, pet names, softdom!Jin-woo.

♱ Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @anitalenia

♱ Header artwork by: @ekkurea exclusively for this fic. Please do not repost, edit, or use for your own fics, headcanons, or drabbles.

Your heart hammers inside your chest as you gaze at the confessional booth. A cursory glance at your surroundings reveals no other churchgoers inside the cathedral. Apart from a lone priest hidden behind the lattice, you were the only sign of life in this house of God.

An eerie silence floods the communal hall, worsening your anxiety. You release a shaky breath and wring your fists in consternation, too nervous to move from your spot in the pews.

Given your circumstances, you’re unsure if you should consider the lack of an audience a blessing or a curse. The foreboding atmosphere inside the church makes the latter seem more fitting, and for the first time since joining the parish, you find yourself feeling unwelcome and isolated here.

As if you were an outcast.

You clench your teeth at the thought.

In all your years of being a loyal parishioner, you hadn’t once sought penance. And up until this point, you didn’t have a reason to. You were a highly pious individual, regularly attending Mass, participating in the holy sacraments, and devoting all your free time to liturgical services. Of course, you weren’t always so virtuous. You had your vices, as all people do, but you remained steadfast on the path of righteousness. You had done everything in your power to live a life free from sin.

But the devil never sleeps, and evil lurks in the hearts of men.

Despite your best efforts, you were seduced into partaking of the forbidden fruit, and from the tree of knowledge, you ate. Now a blight has been cast on you, an affliction so devastating in its destructiveness that it left you teetering on the cusp of madness. Sin crept its way into your life, and it was slowly rotting you from the inside out.

Wickedness and temptation manifest in many ways depending on the person. For some, it’s hedonistic pleasures like promiscuity, excessive drinking, or gambling. For others, it’s immoral acts such as violence, theft, or murder.

For you, sin came in the form of a man.

Father Jin-woo stood out among the rest of the clergy. Young, roguishly handsome, and captivating in all measures, he attracted a considerable amount of attention from the parish. What’s more, the enigmatic priest proved to be a highly capable shepherd to his flock. In fact, he was held in such high regard within the church that many of Jin-woo’s followers attended his sermons just to catch a glimpse of him. The man was simply mesmerizing, both in aura and appearance.

Rumors abound about him being a former hunter, and if word of mouth is to be believed, he had been a damn incredible one. Why Jin-woo chose to abandon glory and riches beyond all reckoning for a humble life of the cloth, you did not know. To your fellow parishioners, it was a noble and benevolent decision.

But his aloof demeanor gave you pause. The man seemed to keep everyone at arm’s length, and then there were his eyes, so unlike anything you’d ever seen before.

You noticed right away that Jin-woo always had a coldness to his eyes, even while proclaiming the word of God. It was a truly menacing stare, one that burned white hot with the promise of brimstone and hellfire.

Yet it wasn’t fear or adoration that struck your heart when you first witnessed this side of him.

It was pure and unbridled lust. An animalistic desire to be so thoroughly ruined, so thoroughly fucked by Jin-woo that not even the deepest dregs of Hell would have you.

You remember the rush of heat curling low and heavy in your stomach as you watched him give Mass the other day. You swiped your tongue across your lips as you imagined mouthing at the smooth expanse of his neck. You’d leave little love marks on the sensitive skin just above his clerical collar, making it impossible for him to hide.

When the priest raised his arms in supplication, his muscles pulled taut against the sleeves of his cassock, causing your breath to catch in your throat. That single action triggered a domino effect on you. Your panties began to dampen, your heart rate skyrocketed, and your clit pulsed for attention. You pressed your thighs together, attempting to quell the ache between them, but the small amount of friction it produced just wasn’t enough; you needed more. You needed Jin-woo’s fingers to be knuckle-deep inside your tight, wet cunt.

You bit back a moan and tried to ignore your arousal, hoping it would just go away on its own. But it was no use; every aspect of the priest bewitched you in that moment. His calm composure, the hard ridges of his body, and his quiet self-assurance all spoke of virility.

Ultimately, it was his piercing gaze that sealed your fall from grace. During the Penitential Act, you locked eyes with Jin-woo. There was such a smoldering, sexual intensity in the way he looked at you that it bordered on being indecent. You trembled under his stare, and for a fraction of a second, you saw the hint of a smirk upon his lips before he turned his focus elsewhere.

After that, your fantasies ran wild and unimpeded, your mind full to bursting with pornographic prose. You thought of Jin-woo pinning your knees to your chest as he pounded into your pussy until it molded to the shape of him. He’d bend you to his will, forcing every ounce of pleasure out of your pliant body while your ankles dangled helplessly from his broad shoulders like earrings.

Next, you fantasized about him eating you out like a starved beast as you writhed and moaned like a whore on the altar. The other clergymen would watch on in envy as they stroked their plump and leaking cocks, wishing they could also get a taste of your dripping pussy.

You idly wondered if Jin-woo would make you cum with slow, purposeful licks or if he would ruthlessly tongue fuck you, sucking and flicking at your sensitive little clit until you were a wailing mess.

Eventually these lust-fueled thoughts became too much to bear; slick coated your thighs, and the fire in your loins was blazing into an all-out inferno. You ended up sneaking out of Mass midway through the scripture readings to slake your thirst.

You took refuge in an unoccupied sacristy and slid your soaked panties to the side. Your cunt was positively throbbing with want; it was frightening just how aroused you were. But fear wasn’t about to stop you from making yourself cum.

You circled your clit and slowly pumped two fingers in and out of your sopping core, curling the digits against a spot that caused you to let out a small whimper as you sought more stimulation. The priest’s face was on your mind and his name on your lips when you came with a hushed moan.

The entire time, you were oblivious to the silent specter watching you from the shadows.

When you returned, there was something decidedly wrong with Jin-woo. His forehead was dotted with sweat, he had a white-knuckled hold on the podium, and he’d bitten his lip so hard blood ran down his chin. A few of the parishioners voiced their concerns, worried he might’ve taken ill, but he waved them off, wiping his mouth and continuing his oration as if nothing had happened.

You felt the priest’s eyes boring into you as you took your seat, and you ended up avoiding his gaze for the rest of the sermon.

At that time, an irrational part of you feared that Jin-woo knew what you did in the sacristy. But he couldn't have heard you through the thick walls of the cathedral… could he? No, there was no way. He was probably just pissed at you for disrupting his service; you’d have to apologize the next time you saw him.

That night, you prayed to the Almighty for forgiveness, but no amount of Hail Marys would be enough to rid you of the guilt and shame you felt. You needed absolution, an act of mercy that only an ordained priest could grant you.

You don’t know whether to cry or laugh at the irony of it all. Fate had a really fucked-up sense of humor, didn’t it?

And this brought you to where you are now, a penitent seeking salvation.

After several minutes of self-reflection, you strengthen your resolve and finally stand up from the pews; it was now or never. You approach the booth and make the sign of the cross prior to entering.

You cross yourself once more as you kneel behind the screen. All is silent, save for the steady breathing of the unseen priest. You swallow nervously before greeting him, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. This is my first confession.”

A deep and familiar voice responds wholeheartedly to your call.

“Peace be upon you and take heart. You show much bravery by coming here today. To seek penance is to acknowledge our own faults and misgivings. It is a vulnerable act, but the Lord is merciful and just. You’ve nothing to fear in his presence. Now, please tell me, what have you come to confess?”

Just your luck; it was Jin-woo. Fate definitely had it out for you.

You release a breath you’re not even aware you’ve been holding and begin to speak your truth.

“Father, for the last few months I’ve been overcome by sexual desire for… an acquaintance of mine. At first, I thought it was an innocent crush, but as time passes, I find myself becoming more and more obsessed with him… to the point where it scares me.”

You can feel your face growing hot as you speak; it makes you feel even smaller and more exposed in front of the priest. You keep your head firmly bowed, refusing to face him.

“I see, so these lustful thoughts and feelings are what trouble you?” he inquires, tone impartial.

“Yes, Father,” you answer sullenly.

“God sends us many in the way of trials and tribulations, both to test our faith and to build character. It is unfortunate that affliction often precedes deliverance, but only in suffering can we truly blossom and grow stronger.”

After a short pause, he continues, his voice dulcet now. “What you feel in your heart, the yearning you have for this man, it’s only to be expected. You are flesh and blood, malleable and weak to temptation. As am I… If you would indulge me, may I ask who it is that you covet so deeply?"

“He—he is a man of faith,” you stutter, “someone I should have no business thinking about.”

Jin-woo’s reply is sharp enough to cut bone: “But you still want him all the same, don’t you? This forbidden fruit of yours?”

You raise your head and direct your gaze at the screen, diffident. He continues, “Two days ago, I saw you departing from Mass quite suddenly. I grew concerned, of course; you’re always so engaged when it comes to receiving the message of God, so I found your actions to be highly out of character… Now, after listening to your plight, I can’t help but wonder if that unusual behavior has anything to do with what we’re discussing right now.”

‘Wait, what!?’ You think, internally panicking. ‘Did he know? Did Jin-woo actually know—’

“I recall one of the deacons pulling me to the side after service that day. He was blushing furiously; when I asked him what was wrong, he mentioned hearing a noise that sounded like a woman’s moans and whimpers coming from our sacristy. Strange, isn’t it?”

“…” Words fail you. From behind the lattice, the priest’s eyes shift from cobalt blue to a sinister shade of amethyst as he studies your face.

There’s an audible smirk in his voice when he next asks, “Does any of this ring a bell for you? And do be honest with me when you answer this time. You’ll find that I have a low tolerance for liars, sweet girl.”

Your heart plummets into the pit of your stomach. So, he knew. He fucking knew this whole time, and he played you like a fiddle. The writing was on the wall, and there was no use in playing coy with a man who saw straight through your bullshit.

“Yes… it does,” you answer in barely above a faltering whisper, “I was in that room when I should’ve been at Mass, and I—I was touching… myself.”

There’s only silence on the other side of the lattice. The lack of a response makes you feel an even deeper sense of embarrassment.

You frantically apologize to Jin-woo, hoping to make amends. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Father! The sins I’ve committed behind these sacred walls are unforgivable, but I just couldn’t take it anymore! The person—the man I’ve been lusting over—is you!”

The priest inhales sharply, his first notable reaction since this debacle began.

“I lost control of myself as I watched you during your sermon; I couldn’t stop thinking about having your hands all over me!” you babble, “I left that day because I was so turned on by you; it was driving me insane! I hid in the sacristy and masturbated just so the hunger would go away…and I imagined some truly terrible things about you as I touched myself.”

When Jin-woo graces you with a response, his voice is husky, with an air of desperation in it. “Tell me what it is you thought of; reveal to me your darkest and most depraved impulses. And do not hold back. I won’t be able to cleanse your soul of sin unless I know the true depths of your debauchery.”

Your eyes widen, not so much from his request but from the wanton neediness in his voice. It awakens something inside you, something primal that rids you of all shame and inhibition.

“I’ve daydreamt of you fucking me in front of the clergy with my legs spread wide open on the altar.” you say, emboldened now, “I fantasized about sucking your cock and forcing so much pleasure on you that you forsake God, and I become the new deity you worship. I want to corrupt you in the same way the devil has corrupted me. There’s a sickness inside me, Father, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

You hear the faint rustling of clothes and a belt clinking. A moment later, a throaty groan escapes the priest, and the sound shoots straight to your core. You slip a hand beneath the sundress you’re wearing and run a finger along your slit, already wet with slick.

You didn’t care if he saw you this time. There was nothing left for you to hide.

“Meet me outside of the booth. Now.” Jin-woo abruptly demands, his terse tone brooking no argument. You heed his words without question, standing on coltish legs and walking with a slight tremor as you exit the confessional.

Jin-woo is in full view before you now, a licentious shell of his former self. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead haphazardly, sweat ran in rivulets down his face, and his fly was undone, exposing his hard and drooling cock.

You shamelessly drink him in. His cock was thick, thicker than you could’ve ever imagined, with prominent veins and a slight curve towards the tip that looked like it would hit you just right. His cockhead was also flushed a vibrant shade of red, and pearls of precum glistened at the glans. You wet your lips in anticipation, eager to get a taste of him. Jin-woo notices your ogling and gives himself a languid pump, once then twice, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Come to me,” he purrs, “Come so that I may bestow your penance.”

You take a step, but then he stops you with a second command.

“No, angel; I need you on your hands and knees. I want you to crawl to me like the lost little lamb that you are. Crawl for me, crawl for my cock.”

You sink to your knees and lower your hands to the ground, making sure to give the priest an ample view of your cleavage as you slink towards him on all fours. His expression is rhapsodic as he watches you, like a man who’s finally found purpose in his life.

“Look at you, look at how fucking gorgeous you are on your hands and knees. Such an obedient girl for me,” he coos at you with honeyed praise, cracks starting to show in his stoic façade.

Once you’re at his feet, Jin-woo quickly resumes his authoritative tone. “Give me your chin,” he orders. You obey, tilting your head back, and he grabs you firmly by the jaw, forcing you to look at him.

His eyes emit a luminous glow, reminding you of his status as an S-rank hunter. You’d all but forgotten this through the haze of your lust-addled mind, but you weren’t afraid of the priest’s change in attitude. In fact, you find his display of power invigorating.

He slowly caresses your cheek with his thumb and gravely states, “The devil has sunk his fangs into you, sweet girl, and he tempts you just as he tempts me, through our baser instincts. Your soul is tainted, but it’s not beyond salvation by my hands. Only by succumbing to your carnal desire for me can you achieve absolution. Knowing this, are you fully prepared to accept the penance you’ve earned?”

You try to nod your head, but he tightens his hold on you—not enough to hurt, just enough to let you know who’s in charge.

“Use your words, angel.”

“Yes, Father.”

A rakish smile spreads across his face, and he presses a chaste kiss to your head. “Good girl. Now, take my cock into that pretty little mouth of yours. Earlier you said that you would make me forsake God for pleasure. That was the devil speaking through you, no doubt. Let’s test this twisted conviction of his, shall we?”

He releases you and rises to his full height, glancing down expectantly. You immediately get to work, eager to satisfy him. You tug at the waistband of Jin-woo’s trousers, and he tilts his narrow hips to assist you. Once the pants are halfway down his thighs, you’re able to fully take him in. Not only was his dick intimidating in girth, but it was also long and even prettier up close.

There’s a potent headiness in the air that surrounds him, a distinctly masculine scent that you can’t help but crave more of. Unable to resist, you lean forward, bracing yourself against one of Jin-woo’s legs, and press your nose against the coarse hair at the base of his cock.

When he sees you smelling him, the priest lets out a soft chuckle that breaks into a moan when you begin to play with his balls. You gently fondle them, appreciating the weight and feel in your hand. With your other hand, you stroke his shaft, alternating between twisting and up-and-down motions. Jin-woo lets out a pleased grunt at your ministrations and rasps, “Hah…ahh… yeah, just like that, just like—oh!—oh, fuck!” The priest hisses as his cock is suddenly engulfed in the wet heat of your mouth.

You swallow around him, swirling your tongue on the underside of his shaft before pulling back to kitten-lick at his leaking cockhead. He tastes like salt and skin, and you dip your tongue into his slit to savor more of him. Once you’ve had your fill of his pre, you hollow your cheeks and sink your mouth further down his length. Jin-woo tosses his head back, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy.

“Good girl—fuuuck!”

At this stage, your neglected pussy was wet and positively aching with need. Without stopping your ministrations, you sneak your other hand between the juncture of your thighs and slide a finger into your core. There’s absolutely no resistance, allowing you to effortlessly slip two more fingers in, up to the knuckle. This finally gives you the sense of fullness you’ve been longing for. Once satisfied with the stretch, you begin to massage your inner walls and grind your clit against the heel of your palm.

Your actions cause you to whine and moan around Jin-woo’s cock. He hums lowly, equal parts amused and aroused by your neediness.

“Mmm…are you touching that greedy cunt again? Heh, how cute... no—no, don't stop touching yourself, angel. I want you to get off too. I want you to make yourself cum with my cock in your throat and your fingers thrusting into that perfect pussy.” Praise intermingled with filth spews from his lips as he becomes lost in the feeling of your mouth. The priest promptly tightens his hold on your head and starts to buck his hips, face-fucking you at a brutal tempo.

The sudden intrusion causes your eyes to well, and you gag as you feel him hitting the back of your throat. You focus on breathing through your nose and attempt to relax your throat, a monumental task given how girthy and long the priest's dick was. Jin-woo takes note of your discomfort and stills his hips. You glance up at him through tears, and there's a softness in his features you'd never seen before. Unprompted, he loosens his hold on your head and cards his fingers through your hair, brushing the strands from your face. Next, he rubs the pads of his thumbs over your dampened cheeks. You melt into his touch and nuzzle against his hand.

After remaining like this for a few precious moments, Jin-woo begins to thrust again, this time at a much slower and less punishing pace. You allow him to guide your head down his shaft while you pump your fingers into your wet heat. A coil was sprung tight in your abdomen, and each swipe at your clit and scrape against your inner walls sends a thrum of pleasure throughout your body. The shockwaves to your impending orgasm were already set in stone; all you needed was that final push to send you toppling over the edge—

Without warning, you feel the presence of a large palm cupping your mons. It glides along your panties, tracing your pussy lips through the thin material. Before you can process what's happening, your underwear is tugged to the side and your fingers are pried from your cunt by an invisible force. Something much bigger replaces the digits. It fills you to the brim in one go, knocking the air out of your lungs. Your thighs shake when the appendage starts to undulate against your plush walls. Every twist and turn causes you to inhale sharply. The phantom's touch wanders aimlessly, with no set destination. Or so it seems, until you feel an intense burst of pressure on your sweetest spot.

You squeal at the sensation and lurch backward, a string of saliva lewdly trailing from your lips as you part from Jin-woo’s cock. You thrash wildly, trying with all your might to escape. It was just too much, too soon. But the priest effortlessly maintains his hold on you, and you can only watch in horror when several more tendrils of mana manifest from his hands.

The magic slithers across his forearms, down the floor, and between your thighs before disappearing into your exposed cunt. Using Ruler’s Hand, Jin-woo plays with the wetness that dances along your puffy folds. He then lifts the hood of your clit to lightly graze at the bud beneath it before pinching at the sensitive bundle of nerves. That was all it took to send you spiraling over the edge. Waves of white-hot pleasure rip through you so violently, your vision fades in and out. All the while, the telekinetic appendage steadily fucks you through it, reaching depths you'd never imagined.

Your body clenches, then slackens, in the aftershock of your orgasm. There’s buzzing in your ears, a white noise that temporarily deafens you. But through the static, you’re able to hear the faint sound of someone screaming. It doesn’t register as your own voice at first; it was raw, hoarse, and unrecognizable. Like the pale imitation of a changeling.

Time slows and distorts, and you feel yourself drifting, sinking further and further away from a state of consciousness.

But Jin-woo manages to reel you in, away from the darkness.

“—come back to me, angel. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Choked moans and broken syllables are all you can muster in your blissed-out state, “Hnng—ahhh! Fa—Father! I… ha…ahn!”

“Shhh, it's alright." Jin-woo murmurs softly while stroking your cheek with his knuckles. He wraps his other hand around his pulsating cock and repeatedly runs his fist from the base to the tip, using a mixture of his own pre-cum and your drool as a lubricant. Above Jin-woo lay a large stained-glass mural of Saint Mary Magdalene. He's cast in iridescent rays of light as the setting sun illuminates the window, making him appear transcendent. The sight of him takes your breath away.

So enraptured were you with Jin-woo's beauty that you don't even realize he's lowered his hand from your face to your tits. He kneads at the supple flesh, admiring your softness. You mewl and arch into his touch, surrendering yourself to him. The priest then dips his hand into the décolletage of your dress and yanks it down, exposing your luscious breasts and the hardened peak of your nipples. Your core throbs at the strangled moan he lets out. “Oh fuck, you’re so soft, so warm,” he whispers shakily as he gropes at the plump mounds, “And the way the sun lights your skin, the enticing curves of your body, the quickening of your pulse as I take you in my hand… how? Just how can you be real? I’ve never wanted something—someone—so badly in my life.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the movements of Ruler’s Hand came to a complete halt. In an instant, all the telekinetic energy that surrounds your partially clad form dissipates. You’re not even spared the chance to gather your bearings before Jin-woo unceremoniously hauls you to your feet and presses his muscular frame to yours. He brings his face close, with only the narrowest of margins separating your lips from his. You can feel his breath in yours, the beating of vitality in his heart, and the rigid planes of clothed muscle against your bare breasts. You yearn for him to close the gap, to finally submit to the searing passion that consumed both of you.

Several agonizing seconds pass before Jin-woo pleads—begs, as the last of his restraint crumbles. “Please, please, let me have you—!” Unable to control himself, the priest captures your lips in a hungered kiss. You moan into his mouth and gasp when he slips his tongue inside to gently brush against your own. A low growl emits from the priest’s throat, and all semblance of rationality is lost.

Jin-woo delves his tongue further, deepening the kiss. You readily yield, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into him. Jin-woo grasps you by the throat possessively and allows his other hand to drift freely over your figure. He caresses the swell of your breasts with his calloused fingers, treading slowly over your pert nipples and leaving goosebumps in his wake. Next, he smooths his palm down your sternum and along your abdomen until he reaches the curve of your hip. The priest sinks his fingers into the pliable flesh, and with his lips never once leaving yours, he starts to walk you backward.

Jin-woo leads, and you follow; your submission to him nearly second nature by now. After a few stumbling steps, your back hits something hard, and the strange sensation causes you to break the kiss. Undeterred, the priest slides his hand from the front of your neck to your nape, and with the other hand he has on your hip, he uses his strength to hoist you onto a table—no—an altar. Jin-woo then lowers your upper body onto the platform, slots himself between your legs, and pulls the hem of your sundress up until the fabric bunches at your waist.

The breathless “oh fuck,” he mumbles at the sight of your bare cunt, has you clenching around thin air. The priest pants, and a sheen of sweat coats him as he pins you to the altar with his larger frame. He gazes at you with eyes glazed over before grabbing at his cock and running the tip of it along your slit. You bleat pathetically, and Jin-woo presses a feather-light kiss to the corner of your mouth to coddle you. He then slides his lips over yours, kissing you in earnest. When he parts, the priest murmurs imploringly, “I wanted to take my time with you, angel, really, I did. But if I go for another second without fucking you, I fear I might go insane. Tell me, are you sure you want this? This is your last chance to back out. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to stop once I’m inside you.”

You answer without hesitation, “Yes! Oh god, yes—”

He cuts you off midsentence, sheathing himself entirely in your heat. Your eyes well up as he splits you apart on his cock. No matter how wet you were, nothing could’ve prepared you for the sheer breadth of Jin-woo’s dick. He stretched you far past your limits, filling you so completely that you swore you could feel him at the back of your throat.

Your thighs tremble and your head lulls to the side, baring your neck to him. The priest licks a fat stripe from your collar bone to the apple of your check, lapping up your salty tears. Your walls flutter and tighten at his actions, and he groans approvingly, pushing his cock in even deeper. Your thighs tremble and your face scrunches at the sting. Jin-woo hadn’t even moved yet, and you were already falling to pieces underneath him. You clutch onto his shoulders for purchase, digging your nails into the well-defined muscles. Jin-woo grunts and lowers his face into the crook of your neck to nose against it. You shudder when you feel his breath tickling your ear.

“You feel fucking divine, angel. So warm, wet, and inviting… I think I’ll keep you for myself once I’m done. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Oh—shit! Did you just clench? Sweet girl, if you keep doing that, then I really won’t hold back.” The priest emphasizes his warning with a nip to your throat, drawing a cry of surprise from you.

Using this momentary pain as a distraction, Jin-woo pulls out of you until only the tip remains and then rams his hips forward, spearing you on his dick. You babble and wail incoherently as he batters your bruised walls. True to his word, the priest was holding nothing back from you. He pistons his hips in and out at an unrelenting tempo and grinds his pelvis on your clit with every thrust he makes. Gradually, the soreness in your cunt gives way to pleasure. You wrap your legs around Jin-woo’s waist and dig your heels into the small of his back, anchoring him to you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin and cries of ecstasy permeate the room. Jin-woo thrusts desperately into you, his nostrils flaring and the veins in his forearms bulging from exertion. If the pulsing of his cock inside you was anything to go by, then he was close. Dangerously so. You weren’t far behind either; the priest was hitting all your spots, and the constant stimulation on your clit was maddening.

Jin-woo catches you totally unawares when he presses his forehead to yours. He peers into your eyes, looking intently into the depths, and then he speaks a secret meant only for you. “Allow me to make a confession of my own. There was no deacon wandering by the sacristy that day. It was me; I was the one who saw you in the throes of passion. And when I heard you moan my name—my actual name and not the title that binds me to the church—it took everything in me not to mount you right then and there! You have no idea what you do to me, sweet girl.”

“It’s not your fault. Nothing is your fault. I’m the one to blame, Angel, not you.” Jin-woo quickly silences the unspoken apology burning at the tip of your tongue. He could sense it coming from the hurt look in your eyes.

“As a hunter, I’ve dirtied my hands, stolen countless lives, and conquered lands unknown to man or God, all in the pursuit of power. I am tainted, bathed in sin. A disgrace to our lord and undeserving of someone as pure and as beautiful as you. But I don’t care what hell awaits me. All that matters is that you’re mine now. Mine—mine—only mine!” He snarls at the end, punctuating every word with a snap of his hips. Your breasts bounce, your thighs quiver, and your mouth forms a small ‘o’ under the influence of his ministrations. To Jin-woo, you were the spitting image of a fallen angel. You were also his undoing, as his thrusts became sloppy and more erratic. His hips stutter then cease all movement as he spills his seed inside you, cumming with a deep and guttural groan. You follow suit shortly thereafter, tossing your head back and screaming the priest’s name as you climax.

Jin-woo slumps forward, dipping his face into the valley of your breasts. You reach down to idly stroke at the ebony tresses. The two of you bask in each other’s presence as the afterglow washes over. You were boneless and utterly spent, but the exhaustion was well earned. Sex had never left you feeling so sated or fulfilled before. It was incredible… and tiring.

Your lids start to grow heavy, the promise of sleep too tempting to ignore. As your eyes flutter shut, you feel a strong pair of arms coiling around your waist and lifting you into a sitting position. Your body then becomes weightless, and footsteps echo in the background. Jin-woo must’ve been carrying you. ‘Such a kind man,’ you think.

When your breath evens out and you at last fall asleep, the priest pecks your forehead and peers up at the mural of Jesus Christ at the entrance of the cathedral. Jin-woo addresses the Son of God with a plea on your behalf.

“Forgive her, for she knows not what she does.”

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amb3r-saurus · 4 months ago

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hii,Can you make a one shot of bf!rafe x reader where she is very good friends with sarah and tells her that she is her favorite Cameron and rafe gets jealousplease,and thank you! ୨♡୧

FAVORITE CAMERON

pairing; rafe x gf!reader, sarah x bsf!reader

warnings: none

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 : I’m so sorry for the late upload 😭. Currently going through hell week at school and I’m on the brink of death. Anw I hope you enjoy this!!!

You were sitting on the deck at Tannyhill, the golden glow of the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the well-kept garden. Sarah had convinced you to come over for an impromptu catch-up, and the two of you were sipping iced tea while chatting about everything and nothing at once.

“Honestly, Y/N, I don’t know how you put up with Rafe sometimes,” Sarah said, playfully rolling her eyes. You laughed, swishing your straw around your glass. “He has his moments,” you teased, the corner of your lips curling.

The backdoor swung open with a creak, and speak of the devil: Rafe Cameron strolled out, hands in the pockets of his shorts, clearly fresh from whatever he’d been doing. His sharp blue eyes landed on you instantly, a small grin appearing at the sight.

“There you are,” he said, voice dripping with lazy amusement. “I wondered why it was so quiet inside.” Sarah groaned. “We were having a girls’ moment, Rafe. Take a hint!”

Ignoring her, Rafe crossed over to where you were sitting. He placed both hands on the back of your chair, leaning in closer than he needed to. His cologne mixed with the salty sea breeze made your head spin.

“What are you two talking about?” Rafe asked, his lips grazing your ear just enough to send goosebumps down your arms. “Nothing involving you, Cameron,” Sarah quipped, flicking her brother a disapproving look.

“Relax,” you joked, glancing at Sarah before looking back at Rafe. “She’s still my favorite Cameron.”

Your words hung in the air for a split second before Sarah laughed, making a dramatic fist pump. “Finally, some recognition!”

But Rafe? His reaction was priceless. His jaw visibly tensed, his brows furrowing slightly as he stepped around the chair to plop down beside you. “Excuse me?” he demanded, though there was a playful edge to his tone.

“Oh, don’t be so offended,” you teased, taking a sip from your drink, deliberately keeping your eyes forward. “Sarah is amazing.”

“And I’m not?” Rafe leaned closer, his nose nearly brushing yours. “You have your moments,” you admitted with a sly grin.

“Moments?” His voice was low and faux-wounded, though his smirk was starting to break through. “Okay, fine,” you relented, finally meeting his gaze. “You’re… second best.”

“Second best,” he repeated flatly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, feigning deep betrayal. “Aw, poor baby,” you cooed, reaching over to lightly pinch his cheek. “You’ll live.”

Sarah cackled, clearly enjoying the rare opportunity to see her brother knocked down a peg. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger, Rafe. Just admit it.” Rafe shot his sister a glare but quickly turned his attention back to you. He leaned in, his hand resting lightly on your thigh, and whispered just loud enough for you to hear:

“You know I’m your favorite,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence that had your heart skipping.

Your cheeks warmed, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of an immediate answer. “We’ll see,” you replied airily, taking another sip of your drink while trying to hide your flustered expression. But judging by Rafe’s satisfied grin, he already knew the truth.

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archangeldyke-all · 6 months ago

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Sevika and tarotreader!reader. Reader showing up in Zaun all of a sudden. Basically taking residence in a dark corner of the last drop. Sevika may have seen them from the corner of the eye but never played much mind until rumors spread that their prediction always come true. Sevika, who may not believe in fate, is intrigued.

i love this so much hehehe

men and minors dni

technically, all magic, whether it's derived from the arcane, divination, or religion; is outlawed in piltover and zaun.

technically.

but realistically, you and every other person you know with any kind of magical gift are highly valued commodities for the wealthy families in the city.

you see, good business decisions and solutions to political struggles are rarely born out of human ingenuity. nine times out of ten, if the city of progress is making any progress at all; it's because the powerful and wealthy have double and triple checked with their various psychics, priests, and mages that whatever they have planned will be beneficial to them, too.

for a while, you made some real good money working as mrs. kirraman's personal tarot reader.

you were under the assumption that because you avoided consulting her on any political or financial matter, that your background as a zaunite wouldn't come into question when you give your (sometimes hard to hear) fortunes and advice.

but when the cards started letting you in on secrets mrs. kirraman wasn't keen on letting out ((and yes i'm talking about @micronreadzztuff22 's garnet-- an oc that's having an affair with cassanda eheh)) the woman you once admired for her ventilation systems in your home city shows you a nasty side of herself.

"mrs. kirraman... i don't mean to accuse you of anything... but the cards are asking you to be careful about any secrets you might not want getting out."

"pardon?" the woman asked, her face paling in the candlelight.

"i... i worry your husband's growing suspicious of y-your... loyalty."

"what, exactly, are you accusing me of?"

"i'm not judging you, ma'am, and i promise you all my clients have my full confidenti--"

"who put you up to this?!"

"n-nobody. it's in the cards."

"oh, i should've known better than to trust some scamming sump-rat--"

"ex-cuse me?! mrs. kirraman, i've been advising you for three years, and the cards have never led you or i astray--"

"i recommend you shut your mouth and leave the premise before i call for security." she said as she stormed out of the room.

so, that was the end of that gig. you left the premise in the strong arms of a kirraman guard, muttering about summoning janna and cursing the family and woman. of course, you aren't capable of casting curses, but you enjoyed the spooked look your empty threats got out of her as you were dragged off of her property.

it's for the best. or at least, that's what the cards tell you.

you've got a little shop set up in the undercity now, just across the street from the last drop in the heart of zaun. your busiest hours are the evenings when people stumble out of the bar, a little buzzed and needing some advice.

business is fine. you're happy to be working back at home. you just can't help but feel like you're missing something.

and then you meet sevika.

from the moment she steps into your shop, you know she's gonna be trouble for you. she's all skeptical and guarded, looking at you like she can't tell if you're crazy or scamming her. it's hilarious.

"care for a reading?" you ask.

she raises an eyebrow at you. "...so are you a psychic or...?"

you chuckle. "a tarot reader. i don't read minds, just cards."

"hm." sevika sits down at the counter. "alright, fine. how much are you chargin'?" she asks. you chuckle.

"depends how hard your question is."

"what am i doin' tomorrow night?" sevika asks. you roll your eyes and shake your head, pulling two cards. wheel of fortune and the devil. you chuckle.

"gambling?" you guess.

sevika smirks. "easy guess."

"fuck off. you got a question or what?" you ask. sevika sighs.

"what do you know about silco?"

"i told you i'm not a psychic--"

"no no--" sevika cuts you off with a laugh. "i mean, you've heard of him, right?"

"sure." you say, nodding.

"he... might be interested in hiring you as an advisor." sevika mutters. you chuckle.

"you don't sound too happy about it."

"i don't believe in psychics."

"oh, janna, this is gonna be miserable, isn't it?" you groan. sevika huffs a laugh.

it isn't until you've been working with silco for a full month that sevika starts to respect your predictions' accuracy.

it takes another month for her to start being friendly to you.

and then, by month three, sevika's one of your closest friends.

and she asks for a reading.

"you sure you trust me?" you ask with a giggle as you shuffle your deck. sevika huffs and rolls her eyes.

"i've seen the shit you predict for silco. you knew finn was gonna flip before we even knew he was upset. c'mon, give me your worst."

you chuckle a bit, then flip a card. "huh." you mumble. sevika raises an eyebrow at you.

"what?" she asks.

the lovers. you chuckle and shake your head. "you got a crush on anybody?" you ask, flipping another card as sevika sputters across the desk.

"wh-- do i-- what the fuck are you talking about?" sevika's eyes are darting around the room like she's nervous, or something, and you don't understand why she's suddenly so antsy until you look down at your cards.

the high priestess. "oh." you giggle.

sevika's eyes fly to yours and she groans. "shoulda known better than to ask the fuckin' psychic i'm crushin' on to give me a reading, huh?"

you laugh. "only if you were hoping i wouldn't find out."

"fuck. i thought you were gonna tell me to quit smoking or something."

you snort. "i can tell you that, i don't need the cards for it."

"well..." sevika grunts and flails her hands out.

"well?" you ask. she groans again.

"you gonna charge me double if i ask you another question?" she asks. you grin.

"depends what the question is."

"for fuck's sa-- will you go out with me?" sevika whines. you grin.

"i knew you were gonna be someone special to me."

"oh yeah?" sevika asks with a hesitant smile. "the cards tell you that?"

"nah. didn't need 'em to know that." you say with a shrug.

sevika grins, and your cards flutter to the ground as she darts across the table to kiss you.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @greenhazes

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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dark-moonlust · 9 months ago

Text

Caught Between the Fae

This is a Patreon commission I finished yesterday. The commissioner chose to remain anonymous. I hope you enjoy this small story! It was so enjoyable to write and it's super steamy, too! I love every part of it 🖤

Pairing: 2 fae males (Nestor, Quin) x f!human (Layla)

Summary: Layla is a photographer in her mid-30s. During her exhibition event, two fae males, Nestor and Quinn, are drawn to one of her paintings and her beauty. They recognize her as their mate and quarrel over who will get Layla and her artwork. Finally, they decide to share her as she belongs to them both. They claim her as their mate and go into a mating rage, driving deep inside her and marking her with their cum.

Warnings: minors don’t interact, 18+!!, fingering, oral(female+male receiving), kinky talk, a little bondage, big 🍆, fae magic to fit, p in v sex, anal, double penetratiοn, lots of 💦.

Tonight was her big night.

Layla took yet another deep breath and strolled through the art gallery. Her heart thundered with excitement and a little fear. That night, her photography was the star of the show. All her pieces were there for all to see and judge. She truly hoped the people would admire and grasp the feelings and meanings behind each photo. Her work was her pride and joy.

As she walked the sleek gallery, the room was a whirl of positive reviews and the clinking of champagne glasses. The people liked her work! Feeling her anxiety lessen, she smiled, soaking in the energy as she mingled with the guests. She let herself enjoy the vibes, her soft curvy frame moving gracefully through the crowd, her fiery red hair catching the light, making her green eyes gleam with pride.

Taking a short break, she stood near the center of the room and tried to calm her raging heart. The gallery was a big hit and a dream come true! She still couldn’t believe it. She wanted to jump and laugh out of joy. As she scanned the faces of the audience, her gaze stopped on two striking men in front of her favorite piece: a photo of a moonlit beach at night. They were boldly gazing at her piece and then her way.

A jolt traveled through her. Their gazes practically saw through her.

Tall and towering, they were both, with pointy ears and supernatural auras exuding such intense power that caused her whole body to come alive and warm up as if licked by fire.

They were fae... what otherwordly beauty.

The one on the left had close-cropped blonde hair, deep purple eyes, and although he wore a sleek black suit, she could see his neck and hands, which were filled with tattoos that surely filled the rest of his body. The other male beside him was all dark and sensual mischief. He had long, curly, dark hair and ice-blue eyes that sparkled with a devil-may-care attitude.

They were attracting the eyes of everyone in the room; their presence electrifying.

From across the room, Nestor, the King of the Court of Nightmares, stood in front of Layla’s photo, his deep purple eyes drawn to every detail of the mounted piece. The gallery lights cast the perfect light, illuminating the moonlight beach. His fingers tightened around his glass as he swirled the dark liquid inside. Beside him, Quinn admired the same photo, his ice-blue eyes attracted to the art and the artist herself. He was the Emperor of the Court of Chaos.

“Stunning,” Nestor murmured in a low mumble, scanning the room, his gaze finding Layla and staying on her. “They shall be mine. Both the piece and the artist.”

Quinn chuckled, his eyes equally intent on the female. “You wish. You don’t have what it takes to appreciate them both.”

“And you do?” Nestor’s voice was higher than usual, turning heads. “Thinking too high of yourself, aren’t you?”

“This art piece belongs in my court, and little fireheart in my bed.”

“Fireheart…” Nestor whispered, his eyes tracing the fire-colored hair of his mate, the soft and curvy frame he hungered to have exposed beneath him. “I’ll never let you have them. She’s my fated one and the Queen of the Court of Nightmares.”

Quinn’s laugh was light and mocking. “I’ll bid whatever the hell you want. She’s my mate, the Empress of Chaos Court. She will be mine.”

“You? I don’t think so. I want her and that piece, and I’ll have them,” Nestor stated, his voice hard with authority. “You’d better wet your dick elsewhere.”

Quinn’s lips curled at his words. “I’ll wet my dick inside her, in every warm little place inside her.” The Emperor of Chaos stared at his mate, their gazes meeting and holding. She was gorgeous. In every way. Her red hair cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders, and her green eyes sparkled with passion. He wanted her. He’d never back down.

“She is mine.” Nestor’s eyes flicked to the other fae. “The moment I saw her, I knew she was my fated one.”

“And you think I didn’t feel the same?” Quinn spat back, with a hint of annoyance. Long moments passed before he added, “Perhaps there’s a reason we both recognize her so strongly.”

Nestor narrowed his eyes at him. “What are you implying?”

“Fate doesn’t make mistakes,” Quinn answered. “She belongs to both of us.”

“This makes sense…” Nestor trailed off, clearly considering the proposal.

Quinn chuckled warmly. “Finally, we agree on something. So, what do we do about it?”

“We claim her. Every part of her.”

It was that moment when Layla decided to approach them. She closed in on them, and they immediately framed her luscious body with their possessive, towering bodies on both sides. Layla felt hot all over, her frame shivering from the intensity of their aura and their mere height. The dynamic between the two fae made her belly clench with arousal and for a few seconds she felt such an intense magnetic pull towards them that she could barely contain it.

“Gentlemen… I am Layla, the artist behind these photographs. I’m honored by your interest, and I couldn’t help but notice your tension… is there a problem?”

“Good evening, Layla,” Nestor greeted with a sultry drawl. “I am Nestor, King of the Court of Nightmares. Your work is extraordinary, I must have it.”

Quinn grinned and stepped closer to her, his ice-blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “I am Quinn, Emperor of the Court of Chaos. Our problem is that we both desire this piece of art, though not as much as we desire you.”

Nestor shifted closer to her right side, his scent enveloping her. “You should visit my court, Layla, and be the crown jewel of my kingdom. Choose me, fireheart.”

“Fireheart?” Layla muttered, a little taken by the nickname and the intensity in his eyes.

Quinn hummed and let his towering form nearly envelop her left side. “We feel a connection to you, little one. A bond that cannot be ignored.”

Layla didn’t know whether to laugh or blush at their bold statements. The gallery suddenly buzzed with whispers and speculations as all eyes turned toward the three of them. Both fae males had surrounded her, and her cheeks felt hot, as did the rest of her body. Her pussy was also wet, aching with a need she couldn’t barely ignore. They weren’t just interested in her art—they wanted her.

She took a deep breath, her heart pounding.

How could she refuse the King of Nightmares and Emperor of Chos without offending them?

“Gentlemen,” she finally said, her voice wavering, “I’m afraid the artist—meaning myself—is not available for such… arrangement. However, the art piece is. I am sure we can find a way to resolve this without—”

“Without what?” Nestor’s eyes darkened. “Without accepting the connection you are feeling?"

Layla opened her mouth to reply, but Quinn cut her off. “Don’t deny it, fireheart. You feel it too. The mating bond, the desire.”

Layla bit her lip and unconsciously rubbed her thighs together. Liquid warmth pooled in her core. “I… I don’t think this is appropriate.”

“Yet your pussy is wet and aching for us,” Quinn whispered against her ear, his breath warm. “And it’s not going away unless we take care of you.”

“Accept us, little mate,” Nestor said, sending shivers down her spine. “We can feel your need. You want us. Both.“

“I—I…” Layla stuttered wordlessly, her eyes flicking between the two fae. She felt such longing and undeniable attraction for them. But how could she just give in?

“You are ours, fireheart. Ours to claim in ways neither of us could do alone,” Quinn nodded, his ice-blue eyes intense.

“B-b-both of you…” Layla muttered, her body tightening pleasurably at the mere thought of those two fae belonging to her.

“Hmm,” both men growled, their eyes caressing her face and red hair.

Layla nodded slowly, listening to her heart which was screaming for them. Immediately, Fae magic surrounded her, stealing her breath away. The gallery blurred and melted away, replaced by a lavish bedroom filled with rich fabrics and flickering candles. Nestor and Quinn embraced her from both sides, their hands exploring her heated body.

Nestor scented her neck, his fingers tangling in her loose hair as if he couldn’t have enough of her. Quinn kissed her shoulders over the straps of her dress, each lingering touch leaving trails of delightful warmth and heat. When their gazes locked on hers, she felt hypnotized by the mating bond between them. It was real; they belonged to her, and she ached with need, desperate to be touched by them.

“Yes, fireheart,” Quinn rasped, sliding down the straps of her dress. “You are our mate, and you will be filled by us both.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Nestor said, unzipping the back of her dress, his fingers warm against her skin. “Do you agree, sweetheart? Do you want this?”

“Hmmm… I want you,” Layla breathed, adrenaline pumping in her heart.

Quinn’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her lower lip. “Good girl,” he murmured, his icy eyes bearing into her emerald ones. They were enchanting, hypnotizing. “Now, let us show you what it means to be ours.”

Layla didn’t realize how quickly they scooped her up and propped her on the plush bed. They divested her of her clothing skillfully. Quinn peeled away her dress while Nestor unclasped her bra, moaning low as her breasts spilled free. He cupped them in his big palms and pushed them up to his hot mouth, suckling each pouting nipple. Quinn knelt at her half-closed thighs and gently removed her panties and shoes. Seeing how she hesitated once she was fully exposed to them, Quinn’s long fingers trailed down her belly, then lower, teasing the sensitive skin between her thighs.

“Open for us, little one,” Quinn said, his voice a seductive promise. “We’re going to fuck you deep, make you feel so good.”

Layla shyly opened her legs and suddenly both men were between them, each one securing a leg over their muscular thighs, their hands making sure she was fully open to their eyes. Using their magic, they removed their clothes, leaving her to gape at the two fae males, so big and powerful—in every way.

Nestor had a sculpted body covered in tattoos. His eyes were warm and inviting, his stomach taut, his thighs firm and in between... his cock stood proud, looking utterly inhumane. It was thick and very long, pulsing, its length surrounded by protruding veins. Quinn was no less captivating. He was just as tall, his stance emphasizing the force of his thighs and the raw power of his well-muscled body. His eyes swirled with blue ice as he pumped his rigid cock. It was deliciously curved and textured with ridges, a little thicker than Nestor’s but not as long.

Having both of them… Layla felt the dark desire, the intensity overflowing. The need. The craving. She wanted them. Wanted them more than anything in her life.

“Fuuuuck, our mate’s even more beautiful than I imagined,” Nestor growled. She looked so pretty and tiny in contrast to their raging bodies. Flushed face, nipples out, pussy exposed. He wanted to debauch her.

“Show us your pretty cunt, fireheart,” Quinn demanded softly. “Open those pretty lips nicely for your mates.”

Dazed by desire, Layla reached down and did as told. She opened her outer folds with two fingers, showing off her slit and the bud of her clit. Both men growled ferociously and stared for a few seconds.

“That’s it,” Nestor growled, bending to lick a thick stripe up her pussy. “So wet already for your mates.”

Layla gasped, all sane thoughts fleeing.

Quinn also leaned down to taste her pussy, kissing her throbbing clit. She saw stars.

“She is ready for her mates,” Quinn said with a smirk. “You’re going to take every inch of us, aren’t you, fireheart?”

Layla whimpered, her voice and body trembling. “Yes… Please…”

The two males smiled.

Nestor toyed with her pussy lips and Quinn rubbed her needy clit. Layla whimpered and struggled to arch off the bed. She squirmed restlessly, but their hold on her thighs was too secure, allowing no movement as their fingers probed and rubbed her pussy to their liking. She melted under their touch, her heart pulsing with the intensity of their bond.

“Such a sweet wet cunt," Quinn marveled, gathering her slick and rolling it between two fingers.

“Love your nipples, sweetheart,” Nestor drawled, moving to suckle one tit then the other, his tongue swirling around the hardened buds.

“Pl… ease,” she sighed, her body feverish with need. “Need you. Need you so much it hurts!”

"Hurts?“ Quinn said in a mischievous tone as he rubbed her clit round and round while thrusting a thick finger inside her. Layla cried out and Nestor claimed her lips, swallowing her moans.

“Hurts so good, hm, sweetheart?” Nestor drawled as their lips brushed, their tongues mating.

“Yesss, please, more please… hmnnn...”

No sooner had she said that than Quinn was tasting her mouth, kissing her possessively and deeply. His tongue licked into her mouth then his tongue danced with hers.

“What do you need, fireheart?”

Oh, how she adored the way they called her nicknames. She wanted to be theirs forever and get lost in their warmth and affection.

“Want you so much. I’m so empty…”

“Our mate needs to be filled,” Nestor said to the other fae. “But first she will cum for us.”

Quinn agreed in a low chuckle and finger-fucked her while Nestor pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing over and over. Driving her higher and higher until she exploded, bliss and pleasure overtaking her until she couldn’t think or talk. Layla quivered and while she rode her orgasm, Nestor suckled her lower lip. Quinn moved to her breasts, his mouth nursing her aching nipples. Captive in their hold, she arched into their touch, drawn-out moans escaping her.

She was still dizzy from her orgasm when they shifted. Nestor sneaked between her thighs, slapping his heavy cock against her glistening pussy. The sound was wet and squelching, her pussy fluttering with the need to be filled. Quinn kneeled next to her head, his cock pulsing in the air, the tip leaking precum. Layla licked her lips, hungry to taste him.

“Open,” Quinn commanded softly, “wet my dick, mate.”

Layla obeyed, her lips parting to take him in. Smiling mischievously, Quinn thrust his hips gently, his leaking cock stretching her mouth wide and filling it up. At the same time, Nestor entered her pussy, his girth spreading her cunt and filling her up inch by delectable inch.

“Mhppphhh!” Layla gasped and gurgled around the cock in her mouth, her pussy filled to the limit by Nestor. Quinn gripped her fiery hair, guiding her head to keep sucking him. She was so full… Quinn’s shaft kissed her throat while Nestor’s cock kissed her cervix.

“That’s it… fuck, you’re perfect,” Nestor groaned, watching her pussy suck him in.

“Is it good, fireheart? Being fucked from both ends?” Quinn pulled his cock out of her mouth with a wet pop, his cock coated in her saliva.

“Hmnn! Want more!”

With a proud moan, Quinn shoved his cock back into her hot mouth, going deeper and fucking down her throat. Nestor watched the lewd sight with pride. Their pretty mate struggled a little, but she took Quinn’s cock like the queen she was, hollowing her cheeks and clenching her pretty throat. She stroked his balls, cradling them in her small hands, her eyes rolling back with each thrust from both of them.

Groaning, Nestor pounded deep into her cunt, making her pretty tits bounce with each sharp thrust. He kneaded her mounds, his thumbs pinching her nipples, causing her to gag and whimper around a mouthful of cock, her breathing heavy. Gods, she was so pretty like this, trapped between them, their cocks spearing her back and forth.

A few calculated thrusts, and she came explosively, her body shuddering. Once she rode the waves of pleasure, the fae changed positions again, with Nestor fucking her mouth and Quinn taking her pussy. The dual sensations were overwhelming, liquid pleasure coursing through her veins as they filled her relentlessly. The room echoed with the rhythmic slaps of skin against skin and her muffled moans as she took fae cock.

“Such a good mate for us,” Quinn said with pride. Her lips were swollen, her pussy drenched with her release. “Now it’s time to take our seed, hm?”

“Hmp, yes… want your cum,” Layla said in a seductive purr.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Nestor drawled. “Ready to take us both in your soaked cunt and tight little ass?“

“Hmm, gonna take you both,” Layla nodded, seeing the pride and desire on their handsome faces. “Need to feel you inside me.”

In a flurry of motion, they repositioned themselves so that Layla was straddling Nestor, her raw breasts rubbing against his muscled chest. Quinn kneeled behind her, his strong hands spreading her asscheeks, his thumbs teasing around the tight, puckered hole. Such a cute little hole. Layla whimpered when Nestor gripped her hips and guided her down onto his throbbing dick while Quinn thrust a magically lubed finger into her ass.

Layla groaned, desperation and desire in her green eyes.

Quinn kissed her spine. “Relax your pretty asshole and take my fingers, fireheart.”

Layla clutched Nestor’s shoulders and tried to relax while Quinn squeezed a second oiled finger into her ass, the thick intrusions making her gasp and shut her eyes tightly. The combination of Nestor filling her pussy and Quinn’s fingers in her ass was strange. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly at their mercy.

“So damn tight," Nestor muttered against her moaning lips, his shaft buried in the heat of her cunt.

Quinn added a third finger in her ass, pumped, and curled them inside her before replacing them with the head of his cock. The broad head spread her tight hole, forcing its way inside. Layla trembled at the dual invasion— they were so deep, stretching her wide around their inhuman girths. She glanced down at where they were joined, and with shock, she realized just how much more they had to go. Only a third of their shafts were inside her, and that both thrilled and scared her.

Nestor’s voice broke through her haze. “You can do this, sweetheart.”

“You’re so big…” Layla whined. She was human, could she really take them both?

“Deep breaths, mate,” Quinn advised gently. “Take a little more of us, hmm?”

“Feels strange…” Layla looked at them for guidance, her cheeks flushed, her eyes worried. She could feel their dicks rubbing inside her, and she took deep breaths that were mixed with cries of pain and pleasure.

“Let’s stroke your little clit,” Nestor murmured, his thumb stroking her bud, sending pulses of warmth all over her body. “Yesss, that feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Hmm! Moree!”

“Such a good little mate,” Nestor cooed and proved his point by pulling out of her wet cunt then slamming more inches inside.

“Our mate needed a cock up her cunt and ass so badly,” Quinn growled as he worked deeper into her ass.

“You will take us, mate. Again and again until you reek of our cum. Our magic protects you. Relax your holes,” Quinn ordered in her ear.

Blindsided by the fullness of their penetration, Layla said yes in a series of raspy moans. Their fae magic infused her fully, empowering her and building her arousal. Before long, she’d taken the full lengths of their cocks. The fullness, the heat, the stretch— she was overwhelmed but in no pain. She curled between their powerful bodies, and when they started fucking her in earnest, she cried out, her nails digging into their flesh.

“Look at you,” Nestor growled, his purple eyes dark with lust. “So beautiful riding our dicks.”

“You’re perfect like this, fireheart,” Quinn whispered, his hands fondling her asscheeks. “So tight, so hot.”

Hands grabbed and fondled her as they pounded her, their cocks owning her depths. When Nestor’s cock left her pussy, Quinn plunged into her ass. Layla tried to get more friction only to have their strong hands restrain her. Nestor grasped her tits while Quinn secured her wrists with magical silken ropes, carefully tying her arms behind her back. The silk felt like a caress, soft and slightly loose.

She didn’t complain; she only trembled between them, her watery eyes begging them to claim her.

“If this is too much for you, fireheart, say “red” and we will stop. I promise you. Understood?”

“Yesss,” Layla nodded fervently. “Now… just fuck me.”

“Easy, sweetheart,” Nestor said, his hands gripping her thighs. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Layla was too far gone to think straight. “C-can’t! Want more!”

“It’s the mating bond. She is human, and it’s affecting her. Our magic is also making everything stronger,” Nestor explained to the other fae.

“Such a needy little mate,” Quinn rasped and pressed a harsh kiss to her mouth. “Bound and begging for us.”

Nestor grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You think you can handle us, huh? Think you can keep up with us?”

“Hmn… I can handle it,” Layla panted as they impaled her on their stiff cocks.

Nestor chuckled from under her, his fingers pinching her nipples. “Is that so? Well, let’s see how long you can keep that attitude.”

The two males exchanged glances before they resumed pounding into her. Nestor lifted her a few inches, then lowered her back down onto his cock. Quinn thrust his hips, fucking her ass in full thrusts that reached deep into her guts. They were both too thick, too hard, and too long, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

It went on and on; their stamina seemed endless, their cocks so impossibly hard and swollen with the need to cum. The scent of desire hung heavily in the air and she came again with uncontrollable, shuddering contractions, her holes clenching hard around their massive girths. The males followed right after her, their muscled bodies shuddering, roars ringing out as she felt something burst inside her. Massive wings sprouted from their backs as their seed filled her up, loads and loads of it, forcing little aftershocks of ecstasy.

But they were far from done.

They switched places, Nestor claiming her now stretched asshole while Quinn filled up her pussy. Their wings curled around her as they slammed inside her, and Layla lost herself in the mating bond, quaking between them, her arms securely bound, her holes fluttering around their shafts. She could only whimper and utter their names, begging them to stop, then begging them to never stop and make her cum.

“Remember your safe word, mate,” Quinn reminded her roughly. “If it’s too much say "red" and we will stop.”

“Would you like us to stop fucking your naughty holes?” Nestor’s fingers curled around her nape, his hips snapping repeatedly into hers.

“Nnn—nooo!” Layla whined, her body tense as she balanced on the edge of pleasure.

Quinn growled his approval. “That’s good, fireheart, because we’re not going to.”

The bed creaked, obscene moans echoing with every move they made. Her fae mates fucked her powerfully, thrusting to the hilt again and again, deep and tirelessly. Quinn devoured her lips with his kisses, his hands cupping her tits and pinching her sore nipples. Nestor growled from behind her, his broad chest pressing against her back as he claimed her ass and flicked her clit with his thumb.

They were primal and fully affected by the need to claim her, and she loved it—she loved them and how they fucked her, it was unlike anything she had imagined.

Layla’s moans rang out when she came again, sobs of pleasure escaping her kiss-swollen mouth. She trembled as a pleasure bomb went off in her center. It was too much, but it was divine, every nerve was alight. They joined her soon after, pulsing up inside her and releasing spurt after spurt of their cum. She was already filled with them, but the second load overflowed from her, dribbling down her thighs.

Layla didn’t know for how long it went on.

They untied the silk ropes and took her again and again, lifting her off the bed, sandwiching her between their aroused bodies and feeding her their cocks in every position imaginable. Their wings flapped powerfully, and when Layla touched them, her mates went into a mating rage, driving deep inside her, claiming her, owning her.

As the sun began to rise, their frenzied mating finally came to an end.

They collapsed on the bed, the covers tattered and smeared with signs of their primitive coupling. Layla’s mates enveloped her, spooning her from front to back, their bodies entwined with hers, their cocks still hard inside her due to the suction of her cunt and ass. She was sated and exhausted, feeling a sense of belonging she had never known before.

They took turns kissing her, softly, lovingly, whispering sweet nothings while gazing at her with an impossibly soft, oh-so-soft expression on their faces. Their seed had marked her as theirs; the mate of the Nightmare and Chaos Courts.

“Who do you belong to, little mate?” Nestor asked, kissing the side of her neck.

“You,” Layla breathed. “Both of you.”

Nestor growled and gazed at her possessively. She belonged wholly to them. And they to her. She was filled to the brim with their seed, her holes stretched taut around their shafts. It was the ultimate claiming. "So beautiful. You did so well, fireheart.”

“Stunning.” Quinn brushed a few sweaty hair strands from her face and kissed her fluttering eyelashes. “You were so good for us, mate. Our beautiful Queen and Empress.”

“Yes,” Nestor agreed proudly. “We shall unite our courts and give our mate everything.”

“Hmmm,” Quinn hummed against her chest, his voice a sultry whisper against her lips. “Do you like being filled by your King and Emperor, fireheart?”

“Yes,” Layla answered, her heart brimming with affection for them. “I love it. I love you both.”

Nestor hummed from behind her, kissing her softly. “We love you more. You’re ours, sweetheart. Forever.”

That night, they’d claimed more than a masterpiece.

They’d claimed their soulmate.

#fae x reader #fae x human #fae x oc #comission #monster writer #monster writing #fae smut #fae fucker #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster x human #monster fudger #monster fucker #monster x you #monster smut #monster x female reader #monster romance

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the-rodent-gentleman · 14 days ago

Text

With another tale to spin.

So many days spent working on this...and it was worth it.

A lineup of the main cast for a Talespin reboot set in the 1990s. I had to do quite a bit of research into the fashion trends of that decade to ensure everyone fit in. To be frank, I'm impressed with how easily (almost) all of them take to the aesthetic.

As for how this sort of reboot would work as a show, I have a few loose concepts I might consider posting in the near future, both for reimaginings of classic episodes as well as crossover events, considering I envision this taking place a few decades before the events of the 2017 Ducktales reboot.

Here's some information on what they'd be like along with my thought processes on the character designs from left to right:

Baloo von Bruinwald - Papa Bear here wasn't particularly hard to pin down. I just had to jazz up his wardrobe a bit with a jacket and glasses, really. If I could pick VAs in real life, I'd go with James Monroe Iglehart because not only does he have that deep bouncy voice that invokes the perfect blend of devil-may-care and warmheartedness (Lance Strongbow from Tangled: The Series) but the man can also sing (Asmodeus from Helluva Boss), something we should have gotten more from Baloo in the original Talespin. Besides, it'd be interesting and fun to explore a Baloo with black coding on top of the German ancestry the original Talespin gave him as well as his original Indian heritage from the Jungle Book.

Rebecca Cunningham - Now Becky here definitely got the biggest makeover in terms of redesign. As much as I don't mind her original look, it really needed her personality and VA's performance to do all the heavy-lifting and felt like a product of the time. That's why I decided to depict her and Molly as Plains Cree (hence the added ponytail), not merely for the sake of diversity but to help introduce conflicts that feel genuine and less forced with a nonwhite-coded character. As for voices, Deedee Magno-Hall would work well as her time as Pearl on Steven Universe shows she can do motherly figures but also depict that neuroticism that's key to Rebecca's character flaws.

Bagheera - Yes, that's right. Baloo's original spouse is here like he deserves! Like any rebooter worth their salt, I had to figure out how he'd fit into the universe, especially since I want to incorporate his friendship with Baloo and the other Jungle Book characters - so I decided to make him a former S.H.U.S.H. agent who now works as Higher for Hire's second pilot. There'd be a whole arc centered around him having to confront his past because of F.O.W.L. causing trouble and everything. Now for his design, I decided to go for simple by giving him a very "dorky dad" look as way of making him seem unassuming. Personally, I'd pick Riz Ahmed (Ballister Boldheart from Nimona) as the VA as I headcanon Talespin Bagheera to be Indian-Pakistani. Plus, Ahmed is a dedicated rapper and the idea of Bagheera dropping a diss-track is just too good an idea to pass up.

Shere Khan - Nothing changed. Aside from the flower and cane, nothing about this man changed at all. Really, it's stupefying how little formal business attire has changed between the 30s and 90s. So, I added in an orange gerbera (a symbol of strength and resilience) and a badass cane for extra flavor. I also headcanon him as Chinese-Indian by the way, so make of that what you will. Now while I know none can truly replace Tony Jay, I believe Christopher Judge (Kratos from God of War 2018 and Ragnarok) would come pretty dang close on account of his intimidatingly booming voice and the way he delivers dry wit.

Don Karnage - As time consuming as he was (the teeth especially), I think Karnage's redesign is by far my favorite. Something about him in that flowing coat with the open chest fur just works. In terms of lore, Don Karnage would stay more or less the same, albeit he'd be like that old man struggling with all the doohickeys cropping up. He'd be voiced by John Leguizamo (Sid from Ice Age and Bruno from Encanto) who can do surprisingly good villains, like in Violent Night, yet can still come off as hilarious.

Wildcat - To be honest, I'm not entirely sure if I'm OK with the look I gave him, but I do like the idea of Wildcat rocking a beanie, so I'll keep him this way for now. Other than that, I'd prefer to keep Wildcat as much of an enigma in terms of backstory as the show did, just to preserve that sense of amiable chaos he's so good at bringing. By the way, I'd let his original VA Pat Fraley keep voicing him cuz if it ain't broke don't fix it.

Molly Cunningham - Other than giving her pants longer legs and getting rid of the bow, Molly's not too different. The most noteworthy detail I added would be the cuff bracelet on her wrist. I based it off of this trinket posted on Facebook a while back based on traditional Plains Cree beadwork since I figured that'd be easier for me to draw. For a VA, I'd give her Dani Chambers (Molly from Epithet Erased and Becky Blackbell from Spy x Family) since she's pretty good with voicing cute yet sassy young girls. Kit Cloudkicker - Ah Kit, the one the Ducktales reboot did so unnecessarily dirty. Not to worry, he's still as much of an aviation prodigy here as ever. Besides, it'd be far more interesting to explore a Kit who tries too hard to instead emulate Rebecca, even if unintentionally, to the point of burnout. As for his fit here, I simply switched out his beloved sweater for a nice two-toned jacket. For voices, I'd go with Justine Lee (Ken Amada from Persona 3: Reload) who can pull off sounding like a young spirited boy quite well. Simon Zhong - The only original character in this lineup. Ya'll who follow me might recognize him from all my Kit x Simon art. He's mainly here to serve as a nice chaotic counter to Bagheera (the two of them will parallel Baloo and Kit naturally) as well as a living bridge to potential conflicts with F.O.W.L. I decided to give him a grunge look since black is so prominent in his design, not to mention a Pac Man ghost shirt to hint at his fixation on video games. If he were to be a character in a real-life reboot, despite being pretty laconic, I'd go with Charlene Yi (Ruby from Steven Universe and Chloe from We Bare Bears) since she's got that crackling voice that has its own unique charm.

Louie - Yeah, I gave the main man the Florida treatment. Honestly, I think he looks even better this way. Aside from deeper lore on his history with Baloo and the other Jungle book characters, I wouldn't change much else about him. On that note, like with Wildcat, I'd stick with his original voice actor, Jim Cummings in this case.

Marcos - And now for the guest of honor. Say hello to Don Karnage's singing, prancy, and oh so theatrical nephew (who may or may not take over as captain one day). Because yes, yes this kid will in fact grow up to become the Don Karnage we see in the Ducktales reboot! Between an uncle who keep berating for "not acting like a real pirate" and a one-sided rivalry with his uncle's former protege, Kit, poor Marcos has quite the chip off his shoulder. In light of that, Alanna Ubach (Manny Rivera from El Tigre and Mamá Imelda from Coco - God that woman has range) would be his VA as she can pull off voicing a bratty and overconfident Latino kid pretty well.

Overall, this would be a pretty stacked cast.

As for the background, I'd rather hold back on explaining that until I start posting some more of my concept art. But I'll give you a hint: Memphis style. And that's all ya'll are getting from me (for now).

Talespin, the Jungle Book movie, and all relevant characters belong to Disney. I only own Simon and the idea of this reboot.

Don't forget to hit me up on Ko-Fi for commissions!

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For better quality views: DeviantArt | FurAffinity | Weasyl

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natsuyuki-w · 2 years ago

Text

Not one of the boys

Twisted wonderland cast realizes that (Yuu) is a girl.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 Featuring: Grim - Trey - Adeuce - Tsunotaro, Cater and Riddle

Dumb human

- Hyiiii! It's really coming down! - Appeared the monster out of nowhere. - ARGH! Grim! - I jumped almost stumbling on the dusty sofa. - Gyahahahaha! You've got this stupid look on your face like... Whaaaaaa but you're a girl! - He panicked watching my shirt.

To dust the abandoned building, I had thrown off the ceremonial cape leaving me with a tight black shirt.. - Yes,... I identify as one at least. What about it? - His face gradually relaxed and he put a paw under his chin. - I dunno. I only saw boys, just thought you were one as well. - he shrugged. Thinking back to the faces I met in the mirror chamber, it could've been true. Tho there were many people, hooded furthermore, and there was no way of knowing if somebody was another gender instead.

- Yes I've decided.- piped the grey cat. - Nothing has changed, you're still a weak dumb human. -

- How many colorful titles am I going to get in the close future? -

Chestnuts

- Talking about husband material. - with the basket of chestnuts in hand, I gushed eying all the goodies in the kitchen prepared by the third year. Trey chuckled lightly - If you say so.- strangely enough, the comment hit differently from when his friends teased him about it.

Cater's words came to his mind: "Much like the new Pomefiore kid, (Yuu)Chan is a very cute boy."

- Lah - I clipped back Deuce's hair just like I did with mine. - Now we are ready! - and I struck a power pose. Trey looked at me for a good moment, mind wandering, cheeks reddening. His Heartslabyul companion was getting into his head.

---

With that tart involved, I knew it was going to end like this. - (Yuu)!!! Stop it. - slapped my hand Ace - I need them for the cake, do you want me to stay like this forever???- he pointed to the collar on his neck. - You are such a drama-king, there are probably 10 kilos of them. - I pouted - This is just the rightful prize for...Ouch! - he flicked my nose this time. Chestnuts were a weakness of mine and even tho it was a very boring and laborious task, Ace was considering switching and shelling them himself.

He snatched the one I just finished cleaning and dropped it in the pile - Junkie! - he threw a judging gaze. - Yes okay? I admit it. Hi, my name is (Yuu), I'm 18 years old, and it's since last November that I haven't tasted, this delicious fruit of the devil. - I chanted.

- Fruit of the devil? - asked Grim. - Yeah..., where I live, chestnuts have been said to be a gift from God to the people of the mountains, but that has been cursed by the devil, making them difficult to bring and eat.- - Ah-ha! - looked at me weirdly the cat.

- As I, mere mortal, can't look upon this gift... OUCH - a slap, this time on my nape. - Are you going to just punish me or do you intend to make yourself useful for YOUR apology cake? - I bit.

- Kids, calm down. - teased Trey posing his large hands on our heads - but (Yuu) has a point, Ace. - inquired. And scolded by the older student, the angry first year started working alongside me scrutinizing my every move.

---

After finishing the laborious job, I stood to go asking what we needed to do next, but before, I spun fast, aiming for my drug.

Unfortunately, Trey was quicker, and from behind me, he managed to grab the bowl and hold me back with his long arms. When his hand got hold of my waist, I felt him tense briefly, but he recomposed, looking down at me with his ears turning a tinge of red. - No more falling into temptation, okay (Yuu)? - he commented, lingered for just a moment, and then proceeded to give us instructions.

- What was that? - whispered Ace to me. - What? - I asked dumbfounded. - WHA??? You haven'...sigh...WHATever.- and he left

- What? -

---

- Do that thing you do, Trey-kun. - said Cater. The boy arrived just to snatch a couple of photos and enjoy our labor. -..., oh that! What are your favorite things to eat guys? - asked the other third-year. And after he listened and chanted "doodle suit", we all bitted into the slices again. Everyone was surprised and cheery about the unexpected flavor. My mind on the other hand went into a tantrum of emotions, and soon big juicy tears were streaming down my face.

- This is Trey-kun's unique magic. Don't you think it'd work super well on a date with a girl? - commented the boy winking and wrinkling the diamond seed on the cheek.

The rivers running from my eyes wouldn't stop. I quietly turned around hoping to cover it from the others, but Trey, who was right next to me, caught sight of my face - (Yuu)...what happened? Have I messed up yours? - he posed a comforting hand on my back. I shook my head and tried denying my poor state with sobs choking each word. -N-no no! I-*hick* it's perfect. A-and don't *sniff worry-y I'm just a baby. - I felt pathetic.

- You definitely are not doing well tho. - - I-it's just...I think I-I'm feeling homesick 'fro-om the taste. - I admitted in a murmur. Pushing me a little he looked where he could find some tissues, but after seeing that it wasn't getting better, he tried the bold move of hugging me.

Welcoming the comfort, I moved my arms from my face to the back of his shirt mumbling - I'm so sorry. - but too caught by my storm of emotions, I didn't realize the implications of my chest pressed against him.

His body went stiff like a wooden plank once again, but after a heavy gulp, he managed to relax. "Perhaps (Yuu) isn't a cute boy after all." He was going to take the information for himself.

Hook up???

- Excuse my intrusion. - said Deuce who came along to keep an eye on Ace. - Make yourself at home. - I smiled warmly. - the bathroom is here, I'll go up and take the mattress. Ace, do you want to sleep on the couch again? - - My back hurts just thinking about it. - he groaned.

- Let us give you a hand Prefect! - followed Deuce grabbing his companion by the wrist. - Hey, hey I'm coming... geez - he almost fell from the cramped stairs. - Hahaha, thank you. - I waved them up. - I'll seriously start to tie up this weekend. I'm sorry but for now, my guest room is the lounge. - and I invited them to my shared bedroom. - Don't worr...- the raven boy froze in place.

- What's up? - and I followed his eyes. - Ups... - my laundry was still folded on the sheets and, obviously, my bra was on top of the pile. - I can exp...- -I KNOW RIGHT? I never noticed until yesterday! - exclaimed Ace. - Gyahahaha, you should've seen him: "HOW DARE YOU LYING TO ME LIKE THAT, WOMAN?". So lame. - Grim cackled nudging the boy's leg, but no reactions came out of him.

- ACE, GRIM DAMN IT! I was ready with a bunch of excuses! - - Oh yeah, like? - they asked incredulously. - This Gremlin pranked me? I snatched a hook-up? I like wearing women's clothes or I'm a Drag queen?...-

- THOSE EXCUSES ARE EVEN MORE EMBARRASSING THAN THE TRUTH! - Screamed back at me the ginger. I glared very disappointed but before I could insult his bigotry he inquired - And a hookup? How in hell would you find a girl to hook up with? - - Mhpf... - I pouted offended - I AM a pretty boy! Cater's words. I could find a girl easily if only I would.-

- (Yuu)...- Finally Deuce snapped out of his daze and spoke with a quiet voice. - ...you are a girl... - and a little hurt asked - Why didn't you tell us? - I had the impression this was starting to become a talk of routine. - Crowley asked me to keep it a secret, but honestly...Well, is not like I needed to tell anything. Do you present yourself as "Deuce, a man, nice to meet you." - I acted - Till the headmaster warned me I don't recall occasions where my gender got questioned...other than Grim on the first day here. -

He was trying to Think how to take the situation, and that operation was successful just as mixing water with oil. - Look - I posed a hand on his shoulder before his brain started fuming - I wanna be friends with you all, it's not like I act any different either way, it's always me. Just covering more than I would usually. I mean, if it's awkward for you guys, I would be very sad, but I'll...accept it and I'll take my distan...- And he exchanged with a stern hold of my shoulder. - No! You're right! I wanna still be friends with you. And don't worry - he puffed his chest holding his fist on it - I'll be sure your secret will not be spilled further! -

- Awww thank you Deuce, you're such a sweetheart.- - Mmmm... - he nodded but quickly turned to face the other way - SORRY...can't help it,.... that name hits differently now. - his face was red as a tomato.

---

They sat on their mattress while I was on the couch with Grim lying in my lap. - So in order, Grim was the first one, then the headmaster...when? - - After I gave him the crystal of the Dwarf's mine. - and I mimicked dramatically - One moment he was: "I'll grant you the honor of attending our majestic academy. Go and make me proud son." then he saw and he was: "WHAT'S A CHICK DOING IN MY OFFICE?". - The events may be inaccurate...- muttered the gray cat and I shushed him.

- How many others know? - asked Deuce. - You two,... I think?- - I bet, Trey-senpai. - inquired Ace. - Why? - - He was SO all over you. - he smirked. - All over...didn't notice. - delicious chestnuts were the only thing I could recall - And how do you know he doesn't like boys? - - Yeah exactly - supported me Deuce. - Cater said something about his unique magic being great with the girls so I am assuming.- shrugged the ginger. - He has a point! - quickly changed sides his companion.

Intruders

Me and Grim prepared ourselves for another day of investigations into the mysterious incidents. On the path to the school, I sum up my late-night talking with the mysterious stranger.

-...and I saw those green sparks and this big shadow out of the widow. So I opened it and there was this Huge stunning boy with dark horns on his head. So I was like: " Intruder!" and he was like: "A child of man? Though, aren't you the intruder little lady? " - I imitated his tone - Obviously, I was wearing the crop top and not one of the XXL shirts - and Grim cackled.

- So I went out, 'cause I didn't want to wake you and I told him the all I'm here cause blah blah, don't tell anybody etcetera. So I asked him why he strolled around our dorm? And he said he was there cause he likes exploring ruins, and now we ruined his ruin, cause the abandoned building is no longer abandoned.-

- Rude! - - A little...- - So who was he?- - Wait I'm getting there! - We stopped waiting for our favorite duo. - I asked him and he was all weird about it. At first, astonished, and then he laughed and said " I'd rather you remain unaware". - - Suspicious! - whispered Grim. - "It's for your own benefit. Instead, I will permit you to call me by the name of your choosing." - and I got closer to the cat to add drama -" Although you may one day regret it..."-

We looked at each other and grinned mischievously. - Oooh, oooh let me pick it! - exclaimed Grim - Howsabaout...Tsunotaro! - I couldn't help but giggle. - I was thinking "Hornton", but yours works well. Can't wait to see his face when I tell him.-

He then pondered - If Tsunotaro's a student here who knows when we might run into him? If we do, introduce me! I've never seen a human with horns before.- - G'morning, Prefect. - jumped Cater from behind us and threw an arm around my shoulders.

- Cater don't be so touchy - frowned slightly Riddle, and the older student complied disappointed. - But (Yuu)Chan is soft, I like giving hugs to my kohai.- I chuckled embarrassed - Good morning to you Cater, and hello Riddle. How is Trey doing? - - Better, he's slowly but surely recovering thanks to Crewel's potions and nurses' caring. - responded the redhead.

He then looked intensely - Mmh your tie is a little off from the assault. - frowned Riddle - Following the rules starts with your attire. Or else your residents will never listen to you...Although, I guess it's not as bad for you being the only one. - inquired the head of Heartslabyul.

I looked down and out of the corner of my eye, I could see the third year smirking. Before I knew it Riddle had his hands on my clothes, the back of his hand brushing on my chest. I stood still, too stunned to make a move. "Wow (Yuu) is very broad." thought the short boy. - Riddle-San... You are unfair, first telling me not to be touchy with her, and now look at you. -

It took some time for the both of us to register his phrase and still holding onto my tie he twisted his head and stuttered - W-what have you just said? - - *damn it... Ha-ha. Why? Did he say something weird? - I tried to play dumb hoping Cater would doubt his words. Unfortunately, my body was not as much of a good actor, and the boy's green eyes immediately spotted my shade of red. - I said: it's unfair you can be touchy with Her. -

The dorm leader looked back at me and a million thoughts passed through his big eyes, realizing everything at once. Quickly became red from head to toe, then threw himself back in a mess of sorries - I didn't know! Since when?... -

Incredulous, Grim asked - HOW DID YOU KNOW S...*MPHF - I quickly covered his mouth to avoid the entirety of the front yard eavesdropping. - Trey-kun told me! - winked Cater. - And since when Trey knya about it???- exclaimed again the cat. - Since the Mont Blanc tart! He was all over you so I asked and he confessed his suspicions. -

- Ace said the same thing... Dang, I'm in debt with that dummy...- I mumbled recalling his bet. - Was I the only one ignoring this fundamental fact??? - snapped Riddle still full red. - I don't know,...(Yuu)? - the third year quickly threw the fireball at me. - Well, there is Grim, the headmaster, who by the way, was the one saying it would've been troublesome letting this information known. - I explained - Then Ace discovered, Deuce, Trey as it seems, and Cater too, Tsunotaro, and now you! - I listed. - I think...- - Tsuno-Who? - asked the two members of Heartslabyul. - Ah, a new encounter I made yesterday. -

- So you're telling me, someone, you just met, knew it before me???- and the tinge of red on the king of hearts, changed from fluster to anger.

Till reading the manga I thought Cater's name was "Carter" instead.

Not just because it sounded better in my head, but because "Carte" in Italian means "Cards".

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

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thirstkanaphan · 2 months ago

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Casting Ateez in a BL (revised and expanded)

Purely self-indulgent and a way for me to draw from my stores of BL knowledge (see my tags) and procrastinate on my actual work

Hongjoong

Hongjoong doesn't quite fit standard BL male lead visuals, yet he has shown himself to be intense, jealous, and possessive with atiny (and certain other members), which makes him a good fit for a cult fave Taiwanese BL. I would cast him in a Lin Pei Yu drama as a lead who secretly and furiously pines over his love interest for years, leading to an explosive moment of passionate intimacy, only to then ghost the love of his life for five years in order to prove himself worthy.

We Best Love 1 & 2 (Taiwan 2021)

Seonghwa

With Seonghwa's ability to draw from the emotional spectrum in his art (sadness, longing, grief, anger) and his unconventional yet staggering good looks, he would be a great fit for a Korean BL directed by my queen Hwang Da Seul. A show about the cost of aiming for perfection in a society that values beauty above all else. Seonghwa would definitely try for a more authentic depiction of queerness in a BL and would not be afraid of playing a messy character yearning for love.

Bleuming (Korea 2023)

Mingi

Given Mingi's penchant for pushing boundaries and zagging where others would zig, I see him fitting in with his new friend Up Poompat in a high-budget Thai BL adapted from a Chinese web novel. A show filled with questionable/downright problematic tropes and an incomprehensible plot, yet with great ratings due to its flashy visual style and high heat. Yes, I think Mingi would have a field day and charm the pants off everyone on the set.

My Stand-In (Thailand, 2024)

Yunho

Realistically, Yunho has the best chance of being cast in a Korean bromance drama like The Devil Judge or Beyond Evil, playing an honor-bound yet impressionable rookie who comes under the thrall of a mysterious and dangerous older mentor. However, we are casting him for BL and I think he would be perfectly suited for a Japanese BL filled with comfortable and nostalgic vignettes of everyday life and extended scenes of one character cooking for the other. His handsome, boy-next-door good looks would make him the ideal romantic lead who quietly devotes himself to his childhood friend-turned-roommate.

Living With Him (Japan, 2024)

Wooyoung

Has there ever been someone more suited to a pulpy Thai BL? I mean this as a compliment, of course. Yes, these shows have a reputation for being little more than sexy melodramas with poor production values, but I see the vision. Wooyoung's magnetism, swagger, and confidence would land him a show produced by Be On Cloud with great cinematography and a high-concept story held together by tape and glue. That wouldn't matter, because Wooyoung would get every advertiser of ice tea and printer ink to fund the show.

KinnPorsche (Thailand, 2022)

San

Yes, I know San was actually used as a visual reference for a character on KinnPorsche, but he would be playing it safe as a nice, strong, romantic lead in a New Siwaj-directed Thai BL. Physically, he embodies all the attributes of a seme, defined as the active pursuer in the narrative. He is the soft dom of our dreams, and would gently yet persistently woo our skittish ML while dealing with the emotional fallout of an intergenerational trauma that threatens his happily-ever-after.

P'DEEEAAAAAN!!!

Until We Meet Again (Thailand, 2019)

Yeosang*

Yeosang is tough to cast, because we know he sees himself as a doberman while the world insists he's a maltese. Unfortunately, his angelic good looks and soft-spoken demeanor would make him catnip for a Koran BL casting director looking for the ideal uke (the passive resistor in the narrative). He would play a sweet-natured yet timed character with a tragic backstory desperate to be loved by the touch-too-possessive ML who has known him since childhood. The show would be inexpensive yet tastefully staged, with a soft and dreamy style. The chemistry would be awkward and unconvincing, but the visuals would do most of the heavy lifting. His co-star would dine out on fan-meetings for the next 2-3 years.

Cherry Blossoms After Winter (Korea, 2022) starring Ok Jin Uk, from the trot idol group SUPERFIVE

*Thanks to an excellent suggestion by @byemambo, I am also casting Yeosang in A Man Who Defies the World of BL, using their explanation:

Mob is easily one of my favorite BL characters because I rewatch A Man Who Defies the World of BL religiously. I know we tend to see Yeosang as this ethereal beauty or someone who defies the odds of reality, but Yeosang to me is one of the funniest and wholesome members once you really take in his personality and composure. I feel like even if he tries not to due to his wallflower and observant tendencies, he draws you in, which is also Mob's dilemma until he has to come to terms with his bigger than life presence in the grand scheme of things. Although he spends so much time avoiding the spotlight and desire to lay low, he finally comes to terms with how signifiant his role is in the lives of others, and I find that beautiful (even if the series itself is unserious in nature haha).

Jongho

This was the hardest casting, because Jongho is so emphatically anti-fan service. Yet his prickly appeal and fondness for weepy dramas makes me think he could tough it out in a melancholy Japanese BL. Despite a mean and grumpy demeanor, his big round eyes would fill with devastation as the person he loves is taken from him too soon, only to get him back with only enough time to say their goodbyes and learn something about acceptance and memory.

Eternal Yesterday (Japan, 2022)

I will happily hear your substitutions or recommendations.

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dailyadventureprompts · 8 months ago

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Deity: Dispater, Lord of those Below

No Kings Beyond Death

A god of riches and horrors beneath the earth, protector and jailer of the departed souls, grim Dispater rules many realms with a stern hand and an iron will. Often cursed and seldom praised by mortals, it is this god's cosmic lot to keep order in the underworld, where the caverns of the mortal plane intersect with the labyrinths of the underdark and the shadowed halls of the dead.

While his worship overlaps with many other gods of death, few pray to Dispater as his heart is thought to be as cold and unmoving as stone, hardened by the grim work of keeping the domains to which psycopomps and other terminal forces deliver souls, ensuring that they neither have the chance to escape nor that they are picked off by fiends or other malign spirits.

Judges and other arbiters sometimes swear by him, especially when handling matters of life and death, as do miners, bankers, and others who work in precious metals or stones, as Dispater has a connection to caverns and other buried places. His clergy collects tribute in the form of those soft, perishable things that cannot be found below the earth: grain and livestock, flowers and wine. Their sacrifices of these things are said to pass on to the dead themselves, after their lord has taken his due tithe.

Adventure Hooks:

A monstrous bat haunts the countryside, endlessly harrying a graverobber who pilfered from a cemetery consecrated in Dispater's name. The exhausted scoundrel just so happens to have taken refuge in the same country inn as the party, passing himself off as a peddler who was shaken down by bandits. When the bat attacks that night (as he knows it will) he hopes to use the chaos to shift some of his plunder into the heroes' packs, diverting the creature and the divine wrath it represents.

Rumour is, if you find a trail of archaic coins scattered along the road, following it will lead you to one of the mysterious grey merchants, traders from the underworld who deal in memories and mementos cast off by the dead. Woe to anyone who attempts to harry or cheat the merchant though, as they travel under the protection of the lord below.

Shortly after a resurrection of a partymember (that may or may not have gone wrong), the heroes are approached by a dour devil in clerk's garb who insists that they need to follow her into the underworld to help clear up some post-mortality paperwork, or else their friend's soul might be held in litigation for a literal eternity. "Clearing up" in this case involves helping to clear out a field office somewhere in the shadowfell overtaken by the unquiet dead, fending off hostile spirits while the devil and the deceased do a lightninground of signatures on the relevant forms.

Behind the scenes: Hades has fascinated me since I started learning a mythology, and that fascination has only grown as I've traced the idea of him through history and popculture.

Like all the other Greek gods, Hades gets a roman makeover in Pluto; god of earth, the underworld, and wealth. One of his titles "Dis Pater" literally means " Father of Riches", as the earth contains both mineral wealth and the wealth of good harvests.

Because of his association with the underworld Pluto/Dis Pater starts to get adapted into emerging Christian Mythology as the devil, as his realm of of Tartarus (and its punishments reserved for the most wicked) likewise becomes Hell (which exists to torture anyone who sins and doesn't believe).

Fast forward about a millennia and a half and you have the creators of d&d making all the different names for the devil into a rogue's gallery of different fiends. With Dispater's connection to greek mythology completely forgotten he gets sectioned off as the extra schemey member of hell's boyband, at once brilliantly adept at making plans and driven mad with his own paranoia. While this makes him a little more interesting than some of the other devils, it just wasn't enough for me in the end, so a revamp had to ensue.

I wanted to take things full circle and use Dispater's name to bring my own Hades analog into my game's mythology, a god not of death but specifically the underworld, fully drawing on the connotations of both afterlife and underground. Playing with motifs of kingship and a "death and taxes" sort of legalism also makes for unique themes when it comes to the subjectmatter of mortality: Dispater as death is owed tribute by natural and divine law, but that relationship also grants protections to the tributary. Imagine a paladin of Dispater saving someone's life from unlawful execution because they are owed a righteous death.

Thanks as always to @5ecardaday for the monster stats

Artsource

#dispater #divinity: death #divinity: cave #divinity: underdark #underdark #necromancy #deity #monsters reimagined #monster hunt #random encounter road #shadowfell #fiend

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blmpff · 2 years ago

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I'm rewatching The Devil Judge and had a leopointing.meme moment. Hello Lee Ki Taek!

The Devil Judge (2021) as K // Bon Appetit (2023) as Lee Yoon Soo

#the surprise was surprising #lee ki taek #the devil judge #bon appetit the series #cast #korean actors #blmpff

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icycoldninja · 8 months ago

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Can u write the DMC boys in a scenario where they were turned into little kittens because a particularly smart devil managed to cast a magic spell on them to escape?

When they woke up, they’re very confused as to why their clothes are suddenly much bigger than they are and so do their weapons. Only when they look at their reflection in the nearby puddle do they realize they become a little kitten

Now they’re cursing in distress, which, sound more like distressed meows from a sulking kitty

And that caught the reader’s attention as she was searching up and down for them, not knowing what happened to her bf before she stumbled across a cute little cat near the pile of fallen rocks

Reader: What are you doing here little fella? Where’s your mom? Did you happen to come across my boyfriend? Can I bring you home with me?

The boys: ‘HONEY!! IT’S ME’ *distressed meowing being inserted*

Now the reader takes care of the little kitten she brought home, not knowing it’s her bf meanwhile she’s just praying for their well-being and hope that they get home soon (erm…about that) She usually plays with them, buys things for them for enrichment, etc and not only that, she usually rants to the little kitten that even though she do love the boys, she can’t help but feel that there’s a rift between their relationship because of how much time they spend with their job, which makes her feel neglected in a way but she can’t blame them. Meanwhile, the kitten, that happens to be her bf, is actually paying close attention to her words, their heart aches because they unknowingly neglect her by overworking themselves, which leads to little to no time for their relationship

After a few days, they return back to normal. Reader is glad they’re back home but is confused about what happened to her favorite little kitty. That’s when the boys explain that the kitten is them…which leads to a very awkward conversation afterwards, ranging from ‘Are you okay?’s; ‘What happened/?’ to the boys explaining that they heard her confession and both the reader and them promising to work out their relationship

P/S: No joke V looks like an Oriental Short hair cat like…no explanation needed

and Nero looks similar to an Ocicat

For Vergil and Dante. It’s rather complicated but they’re either Russian Blues or Turkish Angoras

Here’s a little illustration of cat V I made…I’m rather proud of it

yeap that's accurate. Cool drawing, btw.

Sparda boys + V x Reader kitten situation headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Somehow, a particularly powerful demon managed to cast a spell on Dante and turned him into a cat.

-Dante was super angry about this and started screeching at thin air, convinced he was speaking English words.

-While returning home from work, you came across this very kitten, sitting and meowing in distress. Naturally, you decided to help him.

-Dante was happy to be with you, but he couldn't understand why you didn't understand what he was saying. It took some time, but he eventually concluded that he must have been speaking cat.

-You cared for the cat-Dante for a little while, growing super attached to him in the process. Oh how you loved this fuzzy little ball of fun. You also vented to it, shamelessly dilvuging all your fears and issues with your relationship due to how much time Dante spent away from you. All this information went into the cat's wars, and registered in Dante's brain.

-When the spell eventually wore off, you were very sad, but hey, at least you had your boyfriend back!

-After asking about his strange absence, Dante was reluctant to admit that he was the cat you'd taken care of all along and that he remembers every moment; every word.

-He then apologized and promised to make more time for you, much to your delight. Thankfully, Dante is lighthearted and doesn't judge much or you'd be in for one hell of a lecture.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil couldn't believe something like this had happened to him. How could he have been foolish enough to get turned into a cat?!

-He was very angry, and naturally began grumbling to himself while trying to head home.

-This was where you found him, meowing sadly like the poor little kitty he was.

-Of course, you brought him home, and began treating him like your adopted child, unaware that this was actually your boyfriend.

-You poured out your soul to this harmless kitten, venting about everything that upset you, including how Vergil's continuous absence saddened you.

-When Vergil returned to normal (which took a few days), he decided not to say anything about it. He simply couldn't bear to tell you he, the MOTIVATED one, had been changed into a cat. Instead, he took more time off for you, surprising you with his sudden change of schedule.

□ Nero □

-Nero didn't really understand how this happened, but hey, it's not all bad!

-While laughing about it to himself, he saw you crossing the street, and decided to meow to get your attention.

-Your attention he got indeed; the next thing he knew, he was being given a bath at home, and then a lot of pets and scratches behind the ears.

-He also got to listen to you talk about your day, in far more detail than you ever told him. It made him kind of jealous. A cat was getting to know more about you than your own boyfriend did.

-When you started talking about how your boyfriend (him) was hardly ever around, it all clicked into place. You felt neglected! Aw shit, Nero really fucked up this time.

-Once he turned back to normal, he set out to change things, even promising out of the blue that he'd put more time into your relationship. When you asked him why, he ended up inadvertently revealing he had been that kitten you so adored all this time.

● V ●

-V was just a few seconds too slow to avoid this demon's beam of magic, and ended up getting turned into a cat.

-Oh, this was so distressing. Griffon and Shadow were no longer around, so V was all alone. When cats are frightened and alone, what do they do? Meow.

-You happened to hear this meowing as you were out and about looking for him, and being the kind soul you are, rushed to help the terrified kitty.

-V was then given a glimpse of how royalty lives. He was pampered, doted on, petted almost every 2 seconds, and waited on hand and foot.

-He also got to hear a lot of your secrets, including how you felt lonely without him around. You missed him much more than he realized, V realized, and made a mental promise to fix that once he was human again.

-You were dismayed to lose your kitten, when that eventually happened, but overjoyed to have your boyfriend back. It was then when you were informed that he never left. V was the cat all along, and from that moment onward, he would make more time for you.

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angrycheesegirl · 20 days ago

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Super underrated thing in Ultrakill is how whenever you see a new layer's open landscape for the first time, that first moment is free of enemies, letting the calm version of the level's track set the tone of the layer. The clean versions in these levels are all united in that their breakcore elements are completely absent, allowing for just the raw atmosphere of the instrumentals to shine through. Each one is unique however, so it feels only right to explain them all individually. Spoilers for Ultrakill below the cut.

LIMBO

For anyone that's never read the Divine Comedy, this moment is a bit of a shock to the system. Hell is a place of fire and brimstone; devils and lakes of blood, no? So why is it so... nice? There's birds chirping, calm piano music playing, trees, a fountain; it seems wrong. And then you see the projector walls; the lack of a building behind the door; the transparency of the trees; the speakers playing the ambience. It's all fake, and the calm music only serves to make it all more sinister. It's a great tone-setter for what had previously only been a corridor shooter, and indicates there's more surprises in store.

LUST

After the series of interconnected rooms that was Limbo, Lust doesn't play its hand immediately, lulling you into a false sense of familiarity with a familiarly-designed techbase. It's only after ascending the shaft and using the bouncepad that you truly see Lust for what it is, and Cold Winds' opening notes perfectly convey the wonder and scale as you ascend into the air, this seemingly endless city stretching into the distance. It's majestic; and it's the first moment Ultrakill really shows what it's capable of (a moment very much improved by the recent Ultra-Revamp to remove the 2D skybox)

GLUTTONY

Gluttony opens to a room of writhing flesh, with the echoing, discordant notes of Guts playing. It's disgusting, it's unsettling, and after the battle with King Minos' corpse, it allows the player to properly think on the horror of what happened to the King of Lust, as well as the supposed Angel that killed him. This is the supposed palace of Gabriel, Judge of Hell. It perfectly sets up the twist reveal of Glory later in the level, and the eventual battle with Gabriel in 3-2 by putting the player on edge.

GREED

After a climatic battle with Gabriel and the subsequent plot developments, Greed pulls out another massive shakeup, opening to a massive desert cast in the shadow of a distant pyramid. The influences of Ancient Egypt are obvious from the first moments, and Dune Eternal's intentionally choir-sounding opening drone perfectly reflects that. The entire level is oozing desert atmosphere, as is the whole layer. After the weight and disgust of Gluttony, it's nice to have a change of pace.

WRATH

Wrath holds off on truly showing the extent of the layer until its second level, and thanks to that deliberate restraint, this moment is much stronger as a result. The flooded facility in First was already indicative of something going on; but this? This is an endless ocean of damned souls, and He is the Light in my Darkness's quiet harpsichord proves appropriately somber to accompany this moment. It is dark, and depressing, and really hammers home the true existential horror of Ultrakill's world; Mankind really is dead, and this is the consequence.

HERESY

Heresy waits to reveal the city of Dis until halfway through the level, and my god is it a powerful reveal. The slowed fall as the red fog slowly recedes to reveal the massive hanging landscape... it's a twisted reflection of Lust's intro, and the music damn well knows how important this moment is. The muted guitars of Altars of Apostasy are powerful, and really act as a wakeup call: we're well and truly in the Belly of the Beast now. This is Hell Proper, and if there was ever a time to turn back, it's long since gone. My literal only complaint with this moment is that I wish the level text were here instead of in the opening corridor; THIS is the moment that deserves to claim the layer of Heresy, bar none.

VIOLENCE

Violence is an unique layer in that technically every level has its own Moment™, but 7-2 is by far the most impactful to the layer as a whole. After our rematch with Gabriel and the subsequent dissolution of Heaven's Council; the Labyrinth and its Minotaur; and the serenity of the opening rooms being shattered by an intruding Gutterman, we ascend the stairs to see... a literal warzone. This entire place has been scorched black by endless conflict; rivers of blood flow through gaping holes in the landscape; the now-familiar pristine white architecture of the Labyrinth is shattered and burned at every turn, with entire rooms once-buried now open to the skies. This place bears striking resemblance to the London Blitz, which is no doubt intentional considering the Final War's roots in the World Wars. The frantic piano notes of Hear! The Siren Song; Call of Death really hammer home the endless war that has ravaged this circle of hell, as the song is constantly shifting time signature to keep itself feeling unpredictable.

I love this game and its Soundtrack, man. There is so much genuienly care and effort put into every little detail that I can't help but gush about *checks notes* the first 10 seconds of specific levels. That said @hakitadev HAKITA! MOVE THE LEVEL TEXT OF 6-1 TO THE REVEAL OF DIS, AND MY LIFE IS YOURS

#ultrakill #v1 ultrakill #limbo ultrakill #lust ultrakill #gluttony ultrakill #greed ultrakill #wrath ultrakill #heresy ultrakill #violence ultrakill #I wish I had more to talk about but Fraud and Treachery are still in the works so we end on Violence #Ultrakill's OST is so fucking good man #Hakita and his team absolutely know how to take advantage of these calm moments to set the tone and it's wonderful #It's been a long time since I've gone back and experienced the atmosphere of these levels without blowing straight through them #And I gotta say it is worth it because it still goes hard on the millionth playthrough

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kittenintheden · 10 months ago

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I Slit the Throat of Your Confidence

oh hi there did you guys order the Astari'zel hatesex (except not really but kind of but not really)? here that is for you. mind the tags please.

AO3 link for bookmarking

Rating: E Pairing: Astarion/Lae'zel Word Count: 5.5k Content: 18+, rough sex, fighting kink, blood play, blood drinking, blood kink, these bitches fight as foreplay, oral sex, fingerfucking, edging, orgasm denial, biting, scratching, reads like hatesex but is kind of more like respectsex, they're matching energy, BDSM themes

Lae’zel misses Créche K’liir. Desperately.

The gray, porous rock with its endless twining mess of hollows and caves was a young githyanki’s dream, ripe for guerilla warfare and games of Capture the Crest that inevitably turned to bloodshed. Many of the chambers were stained rusty brown from the generations before, and she’d added layers of her own in time.

Being terrestrial leaves much to be desired. It is not her first time among the istik and groundwalkers – she’d been on reconnaissance missions to the vast caverns under the place they call Waterdeep many times before. She’d been preparing for her first true test, her first scout command, when the ghaik vessel passed their asteroid by and pulled her and a handful of clutchmates into its web.

And now she is here, her fate as much as sealed if she’s to continue working with this blundering band of… adventurers. All of her advisement to abandon the ridiculous teethling – tiefling – weaklings and reach the nearest créche had fallen on ignorant ears. It is by sheer tenacity and the will of Vlaakith alone that they have not become that which she is duty-sworn to kill.

Instead, they are having a… party.

Lae’zel’s lip curls as she watches the others making merry and growing more intoxicated by the hour alongside a gaggle of their horned charges. Sparks fly through the air from one wizard or another, younglings lurk about undisciplined, and the choices for stress relief are sorely lacking. They all smell of alcohol and hope. She’lak and shka’keth.

She rolls her eyes and folds her arms, casting her judging eyes over those remaining reasonably in control of their faculties. There’s the human-turned-devil, who smells of soft history but well-worn struggle, as well. He’s a possibility, she supposes.

A glance to the side reveals her first companion, the one called Tav, deep in conversation and their cups with that sniping half-elf cleric of some terrestrial god. Lae’zel cares not for the details.

Another scent passes by her keen nose and she looks the other way, regarding its source. The dainty elf smells of blood and death, of course. He’d revealed his vampiric nature not but a few nights prior, and while she deeply mistrusts every silky word that drips from his wretched tongue, she can’t deny that he seems well-learned in the art of carnal pleasure. At least, he claims as much, but she’s seen the way he moves. She’s seen the way he hunts. His words may be hollow, but the body doesn’t lie.

The decision is made, then.

She approaches Astarion just as he takes a drink from his misbegotten bottle of wine. He pulls a face and glances her way.

“Oh, hello,” he says in that lilting, maddening way of his. “Decided to partake after all, rather than simply glowering from the shadows, have you?”

Lae’zel plants her feet shoulder-width apart and folds her arms, eyes tracking from his overwrought hair all the way down to his nimble feet and back again.

Astarion points at her from around the bottle and leans in. “This is the part where you respond with your words, darling.”

The scent overlaying the death note that lingers on him is pleasant enough, after all.

She jerks her chin his way. “I tire of this pathetic attempt at revelry. I suspect you do, as well.”

“There we go,” he says, the tip of a fang flashing past his lips as he gives a half smile. He takes another drink and pulls another face. “Ugh, you’re not wrong. Even the wine is terrible.”

He tosses it aside and seems entirely unbothered by the sound of shattering glass. When he turns back her way, he rubs his fingers together as he regards her before gesturing in her direction. “Was there something I could help you with in that regard or did you just come over here to stare unnervingly?”

Lae’zel takes a step closer, into his personal space, and he stiffens defensively, narrowing his eyes at her. “Your scent reminds me of home. Of wounds sustained in battle, of slain enemies scattered across the stone.”

Astarion gives her a long, slow blink. “Is this your idea of endearing small talk? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Ch’k.” She leans her weight onto her back foot. “I am informing you that I find you a reasonable choice for an evening of carnality.”

“Ah,” he says with a mirthless laugh, looking past her off into the distance. “Of course you do.” His usual bravado is curiously subdued, which she finds of interest.

“Are you not amicable?” she says. “I will take my interest elsewhere.”

She turns to do just that and pauses as he says, “Wait.”

He’s looking at her with hooded eyes, head tilted to one side. “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested,” he says, voice lower in timbre. “You caught me off-guard, is all. I didn’t think you cared for me much.”

“I don’t,” she responds. “I find your theatrics tedious and your fighting style chaotic. But you are nonetheless an appealing candidate for coitus, and that is my present interest.”

“How did I ever manage to lure in such a sweet-talker?” he drawls, sighing in exasperation. Then he cocks a brow. “But fine. I could do with a bit of fun, and the sort you’re proposing is of far more interest to me than anything I’ll find here.”

She nods, unsurprised, and says, “Good. Then meet me after the revelry has run its course. I shall be waiting at the ruins nearby.”

Lae’zel walks away without waiting for his response. Behind her, she hears him say, “See you later, then. Lover.”

“Do not call me that,” she says without turning.

***

She paces the length of the ruins, hands clasped behind her back. There’s no nerviness to her gait, no tension in her shoulders. The vampire will come to her, or he will not. Those are the only possibilities, and whichever outcome occurs, she will deal with the fallout. Fretting over what could be makes a warrior weak. There is only the now.

Astarion makes himself known with a gentle clearing of the throat and she whirls to regard him. His approach was nigh-silent, but that’s hardly a surprise.

He leans with an arm on a pillar, one foot crossed casually over the other, but his relaxed posture does not fool her. Lae’zel know how quickly he can move.

“You came,” she says, allowing the slightest smile. “Good.”

He flicks his hand at her as she approaches. “How could I possibly turn down an invitation as intriguing as ‘meet the deadly extraplanar girl in the abandoned ruins so she can either come on me or kill me.’” He leans in and gives her a smirk. “Maybe she’ll do both.”

Lae’zel scoffs, circling him with her hands still behind her back. “Remove your clothes, istik. I will allow you the honor of pleasing me at my direction. If I deem you worthy, I may offer pleasure in return.”

Astarion gives a sharp laugh and pushes off the pillar, facing her. “No, no, no. I don’t think so. You came to me, darling. And why is that?”

She pauses, narrowing her eyes. “Have I been unclear as to the nature of this meeting?” she says. She honestly hadn’t thought the man a complete idiot, but even she can make a mistake.

“Oh, no, you were very clear.” Astarion steps closer, his head moving from one side to the other as he regards her like a predator would. It raises her hackles. “What I’d like to know is why you seem so certain I’ll be the one taking orders. You’re the one with a…” He trails his gaze from her face down the length of her toned torso and back up. “... need.”

Lae’zel does not cower. She does not suffer weaklings. And she does not back down from a challenge.

Her hand spreads wide on his chest and she effortlessly forces him back until he’s pressed up against the pillar he started from. To his credit, he doesn’t gasp, nor do his eyes go wide with fear. Instead, his expression remains amused. Interested.

“I do not submit to inferiors,” she growls.

“So why…” He raises one eyebrow. “... did you come…” His grin widens, exposing his fangs. “... to my tent?”

Despite herself, Lae’zel feels her gaze fall to his mouth, all pale lips and sharp teeth. Her eyes flick back up to meet his.

“I thought you a worthy adversary,” she admits at last.

“Ah,” he whispers. “There it is.”

Then he shoves off the pillar with strength that surprises her and crushes his mouth to hers, putting her just enough off balance to stagger back a step. He takes the second of advantage to fist his long fingers in the back of her hair and hook his leg behind hers.

Lae’zel’s heart thrums at the promise of a fight.

He’s fast. But she is gith.

With practiced skill, she counterbalances herself to thwart his attempt to sweep her leg. He meets resistance and overcorrects, and that’s her opening. She twists her arm up under his and uses the momentum to spin him around so she can get him in a modified headlock. From behind, she leans in close to his ear.

“As I said,” she hisses softly. “I do not submit to inferiors. So show me you are not one.”

Without so much as a sardonic quip, he stomps on her insole with his full weight and bites her arm at the same time. Lae’zel is not often surprised, but the absolute audacity of the move throws her long enough for him to twist free. When he turns to look at her from several feet away, he smirks and goes to wipe the small smear of blood from the corner of his mouth.

“Chaotic enough for you?” he teases.

In response, she surges forward, moving like liquid mercury, and fakes him out with a right hook to block while she brings her left hand up to cuff him squarely under the chin.

“Bleeding hells,” he swears as he stumbles back, fingers going to his jaw. There’s a flash of fury on his face, of spite and vengeance. Then it’s gone, replaced by a calculating look. His lip curls back, showing teeth, and his pupils dilate. He moves to circle her and she responds by moving in the opposite direction, keeping their same distance. Astarion’s fingers clench and flex, clench and flex.

“Gloves off, then,” he says, voice low and breathy.

She raises her hands in a ready stance, welcoming an attack. “I never said they were on.”

A thin trail of blood drips down her arm from the bite. Astarion’s eyes snap to it and his mouth twitches as if he’s preparing to bite again, teeth peeking. He tenses to pounce and looks her in the face again.

“If you want blood,” she says warningly. “You must take it from me. If you can.”

That’s all he needs in the way of permission, if that’s in fact what he sought. Astarion springs forward like a tightened coil, using what little he has on her by way of body weight to catch her around the middle and send her staggering back. Again, he goes to hook her ankle and send her off balance, and again she adjusts to match him. Just as she raises her elbows to bring them down squarely in the center of his back, he releases her unexpectedly and steps around behind, turning with the grace and speed of a trained dancer.

He brings up his foot and kicks, connecting with the small of her back using all the leverage he has to shove her forward. This time, he actually manages it. For one solitary second, she loses her footing, and then he is on her from behind, looping an arm through both of her elbows and pulling them back so her sternum arches out sharply. She hisses from the strain in her shoulders.

And before she can regain the upper hand, he sinks his teeth into the side of her neck. It is an icy sting, foreign and sharp, and her warrior’s instinct immediately looses a battle cry that echoes throughout her ribcage. She cannot fall. She will not fall.

Astarion manages to get a few healthy pulls from her before she wrenches herself away, hand going to the wound he left there. It comes away bloodied and she raises her gaze to his face.

He looks like a creature possessed. The carefully crafted hair he maintains much to her disdain is falling from its coif and his mouth and chin are smeared with her gore. His tongue licks at his scarlet-stained teeth and he grins, feral, shoulders hunched forward and pupils blown out so wide she can scarcely see the irises of his eyes. When he moves, he jitters, jerky and unnatural. Nothing like the smooth flow of his usual airs.

A lesser woman would be terrified.

Lae’zel is not a lesser woman.

When he comes at her again, she drops, rolling onto her rear and back and using his own momentum against him. She takes him by the shoulders and continues to yank him up over her head, following after until she can push herself over top of him, pressing her thigh firmly between his legs. He makes a noise up at her from the stone floor, a trilling, growling sort of purr.

She silences him with her mouth over his, tongue running over his mouth before dipping inside and tasting the cosmic metal of her own blood on him. When she pulls back, her face matches his.

“Nasty thing,” Astarion says. “This is what gets you going, hm?”

He flexes his thigh, trapped between her own, and she feels the first teasing tingle of pleasure pull at her core.

Lae’zel laughs, heady with violence. “You think me affected, istik?” Quick as a heartbeat, she snakes her hand down between his legs and he chokes off a gasp as she firmly grips his cock through his clothes, the length of him gone fully hard against his leg. Her hold is strong, just barely on the right side of painful, and she feels a pulse go through him. “I have never seen a groundwalker so aroused by the promise of blood. Are you as excited at the prospect of pain?”

With that, she grabs the split of his shirt with her free hand and tears it open, the fabric splitting with a satisfying rip. He cries out in indignation, then again when she sinks her own teeth into the flesh of his chest. When she’s satisfied, she sits up, then stands and backs away from him, leaving him staring at the fresh bite on his skin with an expression of shock and interest.

He glares at her and pushes himself up to standing, his erection now very clearly visible through his fitted trousers. A flap of his torn shirt flutters in the slight breeze moving through the space and he flicks at it.

“I just found this shirt,” he growls. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find something out here that doesn’t look like it’s been through six generations of peasantry?”

She grins back at him, swaying from foot to foot. “And what are you going to do about it?”

He pulls the shirt loose from where it’s tucked and shucks it off, using it to wipe the worst of the mess from his face before tossing it aside. His skin is like marble in the moonlight, pale and solid stretched over the muscle beneath.

“I’d run, were I you,” he says.

“I do not run,” she answers.

Astarion springs and they lock arms again. It is a battle of speed versus strength, cunning versus training. Every time she gets the upper hand, he finds a way to free himself and get her back in turn. Round and round they go, bruises and bites, tongue and touch.

When he next gets her on her back, his forearm presses her to the ground just below her windpipe. He does not throttle her, but he’s making it clear that he could. Instead, his lips soften slightly, pulling over his bared teeth, and he appraises her face. She writhes and wraps both legs around his waist, intending to flip him, but he has his full weight across her torso and one of her arms pinned to the stones.

“Will you relent?” he says, tilting his head to one side and sounding for all the world as if he’s asking to kiss her.

“I will not,” she pants, writhing again. “You do not have me yet.”

“Hm,” he hums, eyes roving over her face once more. “Then I’ll consider this an opportunity.”

“An opportunity to wh-” she starts.

Astarion grinds himself into the cradle of her hips, hard. She feels the rigid length of him roll along the crux of her legs and her eyes shutter closed.

“She likes that, I think,” Astarion purrs.

He does it again.

“A break, perhaps?” His own voice is starting to go reedy. “Exchange pain for a bit of pleasure?”

“I will…” She pulls in a shaking breath, warmth blooming in her center, pulsing with a fierce edge of adrenaline. “... allow it.”

He rolls off her instantly, going to his back beside her, and begins wrestling with his own fastenings, nearly clumsy in his desperation to remove his remaining clothing. Lae’zel follows suit, albeit more efficiently. Her clothing and underthings are unfussy, made for utility far more than form. Astarion’s only just kicking off his bottoms when she climbs atop him, straddling his torso with her powerful thighs on either side and holding herself up out of his immediate reach.

She jerks her head down at him. “You wish to show me you are worthy of my gifts?” she says. “Then give me your hand.”

Astarion narrows his eyes at her, mistrustful, but he does as she asks, holding up a hand. Lae’zel accepts it.

“Good,” she says. “Now pay attention.”

Then she moves both of their hands between her legs, manipulating his fingers as she’d like them.

“I assume I am your first githyanki,” she breathes as his fingers brush her sensitive places. “I will only teach this once.”

She takes his middle finger and touches it to a tender place to one side of her slit. “Here.” She moves it across to mirror a spot on the other side. “Here.” Then she takes his thumb and places the pad over the spot at the front, a harder ridge that would normally be a hood on a softer species. “And here.”

He continues to watch her, his tongue peeking out to lick his lip.

“This is called kalach’ra k’rel vah, the points of the star,” she says. “Skilled lovers can hit all three at once and ah-”

“Like this?” Astarion lilts as he instantly relocates all three points and presses them hard with the tips of his fingers. “Or perhaps this?” He twists his wrist and brushes over the hot spots in a sweeping motion.

“Ah,” Lae’zel says again, radiant pleasure expanding deep in her belly. She tips forward and grips his biceps for support.

“Am I doing it right?”

Now he’s teasing her and she does not approve but oh Vlaakith'ka sivim hrath krash'ht if his detestable lockpicking habit isn’t working out in her favor at exactly this moment.

“Stay your fool tongue,” Lae’zel gasps, arching into his touch and canting her hips in time with him. A tingle twines up her spine like a serpent.

“Is that really what you want?” he says as he tilts his head back and curls his tongue out past his teeth in an obscene show.

“Ch’k,” she breathes. Loathe as she is to give so much as an inch, she cannot deny that she’d dearly love to shut him up. She pulls his face to hers, taking that wretched tongue against her own. The kiss is fierce and deep, leaving both of their lips cut from it.

Lae’zel wraps a hand around the back of his head and yanks it to one side, her face going to his neck. She inhales deeply, sweat and blood and death and life and fight. Then she runs her tongue along the vein climbing the column of his throat and keeps going along the edge of his ear.

Beneath her, Astarion bucks hard enough that she feels the head of his cock strike her thigh. A long groan sounds from deep in his chest and he twists, mouth pressed to her neck, and the wet heat of his tongue is stroking up to the place near her jaw.

She pulls back to place another bruising kiss on his mouth. When she pulls him back by the hair, she says, “As you were.”

He curls his lip at her in a snarl, but dutifully returns his hand to its work between her legs. Lae’zel lolls back and rolls against him as he plays her like gith are all he knows.

After a moment or two of blissful, bone-deep, aching pleasure in near silence, Astarion breaks it again.

“Anything else?” He tries to sound bored, but the winded words don’t fool her. His arousal must be growing unbearable.

Lae’zel rises and falls against him, trying to get the friction she needs. “Inside,” she breathes. “Partway up, softer than the rest.”

Without another word, Astarion slides two fingers across her and inside, exploring but a moment before he finds the place she indicated.

Lae’zel howls to the sky through the broken ceiling, praising the stars in Vlaakith’s name for the boiling knot of tension that will feel better than githyanki silver at release, better than the eternity of the Astral Plane, better even than riding a dragon-

Astarion pulls his hand away and lays back.

Her howl turns to one of rage as her head whips down to meet his knowing smirk. Even as his own breaths become shallow with need, he teases.

“Can’t let you have all the fun,” he says, examining the hand that had just been giving her such ecstasy. He glances back up. “I just wanted you to know that I’m capable, should you like to, oh, I don’t know…” He waves his hand through the air. “Admit that I’m not an inferior.”

The tempest behind Lae’zel’s eyes flickers in warning. Then she does the most terrifying thing she ever does – she smiles.

She’s off him in an instant and Astarion sits up on his elbows to watch, trying to figure out her next move. By the time he does, her face is already dangerously close to his cock and he’s having a sudden avalanche of regrets about certain previous choices.

“Ah, ah, I like that where it is very much,” he chides nervously.

Lae’zel holds his eye and continues lowering herself.

Astarion tenses. “Seriously, watch the teeth, watch the teeth the teeth the-”

Then she takes him down deep, mouth and tongue sliding over his length, and Astarion fully understands that githyanki tongues are uniquely textured.

“-the tee- oh.” One of his eyes twitches a bit as his expression goes slack in pleasant surprise. “Oh, that’s very… mmmn.” He collapses onto his back. “Okay.”

Lae’zel is honestly tempted to bring teeth into the mix anyway simply to teach him his place, but even she must begrudgingly admit that the elegant arch of an elf losing himself to the pleasure of her mouth is an alluring sight. His chest twitches as it rises and falls with his breath, his head thrown back and brows furrowed as if in concentration, lips pulled back to reveal the tips of his teeth.

Alluring, indeed.

“That shouldn’t be allowed,” he grits out, cracking his eyes open once more to peer down at her.

She nearly pulls off him for his ignorance, but instead she moves her tongue back, firms the tip, and runs it around the entirety of his glans. That’s always the most sensitive part for gith, and if the anatomy translates…

Astarion arches his back clean off the ground and snarls out a curse.

Lae’zel truly thinks she has him right where she wants him. Up until he sits back up on his elbow, tents his knee, and tangles his fingers into the back of her hair, an inferno in his eyes as he smolders down at her. Slowly, he thrusts into her mouth deeper, testing the water to determine whether she can take it.

She meets the intensity in his gaze and pushes herself still farther.

She never backs down from a challenge.

His fingers twist tighter in her hair and his hips begin to snap harder, fucking her mouth until he’s hitting the root of her tongue, then the back of her throat. Githyanki do have a gag reflex, but Lae’zel has trained to suppress hers for any number of applicable reasons. Perhaps she did not originally intend this one, but it applies nonetheless.

“Shit,” the elf spits, eyes falling shut as he continues to thrust, hand holding her in place as he does. “Gods, that’s not fair.”

Fair. As if anything about this union has ever been about what’s fair.

She’ll remind him.

His toned thigh flexes as he continues to leverage himself in a steady pumping rhythm that would not under any circumstances be considered gentle. He pants out his breath as the force of it leaves trails of her saliva trailing down. There’s not enough time or relief between thrusts for her to swallow. His loss, that.

When she’s decided she’s had enough of his antics, she puts her palms on his hipbones and pins him to the ground. He bucks against her in vain. Not as weak as she initially anticipated, especially not in his legs, but her muscles are corded steel. He groans out his frustration.

She pulls up and off of him unhurriedly, raising her head until she can look down upon him. His breath huffs angrily as he glares from beneath his furrowed brow, the tips of his elven ears flushed with borrowed blood and his cock shiny and slick from her mouth.

“Surely you did not expect to finish so easily,” she says, her words slightly raspier than they were. “Not while I’m left wanting. That is not why we came here, k’chaki.”

“No,” he says lowly as he pushes himself up to sitting so he’s at level with her. “We came here for a godsdamned fuck.”

He shoves her back and she goes, caught off guard for once. He crawls over her as she flips herself onto her belly, set to push back. Astarion slams one hand down over one of her wrists, and the other hand down over the other, and grips them both tight, laying his full weight over her.

She hears the shiver in his voice as he leans close and says, “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this.”

Lae’zel rolls her hips and draws up her legs to spread herself for him.

“As you were,” she whispers.

A low sound rumbles through Astarion’s chest as he grips her hips tight and presses himself into her. They combine in a way that is at once familiar and alien. It leaves them both crying out.

Lae’zel feels the prick of Astarion’s nails deep in the skin of her thighs. She wraps both hands around his forearms and digs her sharpened nails into him in kind.

His hips snap, thrusting into her hard and fast. Lae’zel drowns in sensation, of his cock stroking in and out, of his heated breath against her neck, of the scent of all that grounds her all around. With a surprising amount of awkwardness given his typical precision, Astarion fumbles a hand around to the front of her and attempts to find the places on her body she’d shown him before. It takes him a moment, but he manages, leaning heavily over her as they move.

Lae’zel’s mind blanks in bliss, the warming wave of first pleasure sweeping over her as he continues to move. She moans through it, a string of githyanki praises and blessings spilling past her lips.

Above her, Astarion’s breathing is labored. “Hells below, did you?” he gasps. “Tell me you did.”

With one more slight moan, Lae’zel pushes herself up, her back against his chest and forces him back as he bites back a curse. He pulls out of her and she turns, the movement lazy, and leans in to grip his jaw with one hand and pay him another kiss.

When they break, she says, “I have reached the cliff. The edge is near.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Astarion huffs in exasperation. His curls are flat now, falling around his face damp with sweat.

Lae’zel grins and pulls him to standing, putting both hands on his chest and backing him up to the nearest wall. She lays her body across him fully, letting the skin-to-skin contact send echoes of pleasure over her. This is the euphoric state, the one just before clarity. It is the only time she would dare let a soul call her “cuddly” and not immediately suffer an ignoble death.

She runs her tongue over his chest and peers up into his face. “It means that this…” she reaches a hand between them to take his cock in hand and hears his sharp intake of breath. “... feels almost as good for me as it does you, until the heat comes.”

“Again,” Astarion says with a slight wheeze. “What the fuck does that mean?”

In response, Lae’zel begins pumping him with long, firm strokes that make his eyes go half-lidded.

“I mean,” he slurs. “I’d had other plans, but I can live… with this…”

She leans in close. “It is temporary.”

“Don’t care what that means anymore,” he murmurs as she works him.

He arches against the wall and breathes oh-oh. Lae’zel can feel the heat, her heat, rising off his skin. The muscles underneath. The way everything twitches as he gets nearer and nearer. Her eyes watch his face, marveling. These terrestrial races, they are so strange, and somehow so beautiful.

Deep in her core, the cinders flicker back to life and Lae’zel’s initial pre-orgasm high falls to flame as her arousal comes back like a roaring bonfire. It’s so overpowering that she nearly misses the telltale signs that Astarion’s almost done for. His brow is pinched and fluttering moans keep escaping past his lips. She feels a swelling beneath her touch.

And she stops and steps back.

“No!” Astarion groans out his disappointment. “Gods damn it, no, I was right there.”

She grips him by the jaw and makes him look at her. His glare could melt metal.

“Has your edge returned to you?” Lae’zel says.

“You might bloody well say that,” he snarls.

She puts her hands on his shoulders. “Then use it.”

With an animalistic growl, Astarion puts his hands on the backs of her thighs and she jumps to wrap her legs around his waist. He whirls them both and slams her against the wall, its cold stone cooling her overheated skin and its rough surface keeping her present. There’s a few seconds more of adjustment before he pushes back inside her, effectively pinning her to the wall with his hips as he grabs her wrists and presses them into the stone above her head.

As soon as he gets the balance right, he begins fucking into her without additional thought, hips grinding together tightly. Lae’zel shuts her eyes and grins as the force of it appeases the desire inside her, feeding the fire until it grows, and grows, and–

She doesn’t even hear the cry that escapes her lips as the light inside her bursts, its luminance igniting every cell. The world around her rings, all other noise coming to her as if underwater.

When she finally comes down enough to hear again, Astarion is saying something to her.

“What?” she manages.

He presses his mouth right up against her ear, continuing to pump into her. “I said…” Thrust. “... is it all right…” Thrust. “... to finish…” Thrust. “... inside?”

Lae’zel’s laugh is high-pitched. Delirious. “Yes, fool, you may come inside.”

“Fucking finally,” Astarion groans.

His thrusts go slow as his body tenses against her. Then he leans his full weight against her and the wall with a stuttering cry as, she assumes, he comes his entire soul out.

Afterward, they’re reclining nude on the nearby blanket catching their breath. Lae’zel glances his way.

“Are you actually required to ask permission to, ah. Complete inside someone?” she asks.

Astarion gives her an incredibly put-upon look. “I asked because it’s polite, you weird arsehole.” He winces as he rolls his shoulder, poking at a new bruise. “One of us could try to bring a little decorum.”

She smirks and looks out the ruined archway. “You were most enthusiastic tonight,” she says.

“Well.” He lays back on one of the folded up blankets. “Not every day you encounter someone open to certain, you know. Proclivities.”

Lae’zel nods. “I may have use for you again in the future.”

Astarion gives a sharp laugh to the night sky.

#astarion x lae'zel #astari'zel #astarion smut #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #bg3 #kitten writes

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