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#Gather Your Party And Venture Forth
sadraccoon061 · 7 months
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Given the crossover between Baldur's Gate 3 & Simblr rn SOMEONE SHOULD START A GATHER YOUR D&D PARTY CAS CHALLENGE THINGY
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heartslogos · 1 year
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newfragile yellows [1246]
Ellana dreams. Well. No. That's innacruate to say. First Ellana goes in and out of consciouness, as though she were very tired or very drugged or both. Ellana surfaces enough to peer through the smallest of gaps between her eyelashes, eyes unable to focus enough to make sense of any of the light that pours in through them. There is light. Possibly even color, though she wouldn’t be able to put name to shade. There are sounds, probably. But Ellana doesn’t remember them. She goes back under. Every time she comes closer to the surface — still unbelievably slow, strangely tired, as though she was trying to rise up through lead — there’s just a little bit more of her to comprehend what’s happening.
She’s being moved. She's been abducted. She doesn’t know by who. But the people around her keep changing. There are machines. Her body is still moving, or at least whatever surface her body is on is moving. She doesn’t feel pain — or much of anything yet. She’s tired.
Ellana doesn’t fight going under anymore. It’s like waves. She’ll come back up when the tide is right.
The next time Ellana surfaces she is no longer moving. She still cannot feel her body. Her eyes still are unable to connect sensation to comprehension. There are shapes. There are colors. None of it coalesces into something that’s understandable to her. And for whatever reason she doesn’t care enough to worry about it.
There are sounds, too. The words flow over her head. It’s as though she’s curled up at the bottom of a swimming pool and the words are swimmer above her. She can feel the impact of their arms and legs against the water. She can see their shadows. But she cannot decipher anything further.
“Ellana Lavellan," someone says. That’s her. But how do they know her? “Ellana, are you awake?”
She doesn’t know either.
“Let her rest.” A different voice from the first, this one she agrees with. “Even if she was awake, I don’t think she could tell you anything. You won’t be getting anything out of this one for a while.”
“Why didn’t she move? Who’s flight or flight instincts are so bad they just freeze when they see a car driving straight at them?”
Mine, Ellana thinks, apparently.
But it wasn’t her fault, another part of her mind protests against herself and the judgement of these strangers. It was the screaming. It was all of that screaming.
Ellana feels herself sliding back under, deeper into the not-quite still waters of her own body, her own consciousness, as strangers discuss her survival instinct around her.
Now Ellana dreams.
Ellana dreams that she is outside of herself. Ellana looks down at her body, covered in gauze and cast plasters and connected to a truly worrisome amount of machines and various medical tubes. Oxygen cannula, feeding tube, catheter, blood drain bag, wound drain bag — it’s very much to take in.
She turns away from herself and trots into the darkness that is not quite unknown, but not entirely familiar. She knows part of this darkness, she knows some extent of it. She’s been in it, felt it, walked it, in a different shape. When it was different. When she was different. But she recognizes pieces of it.
Ellana breathes in and smells nothing. She hears nothing. She sees only the darkness in front of her. She feels nothing but the darkness under her claws, the pads of her feet.
What is she, in this dream? Some creature on all fours?
She rises onto her hind legs. She walks just fine this way, too.
Ellana walks through the darkness and out the other end. She is not familiar with this space. Now she is beginning to feel unnerved.
Ellana sees what could be the sun, or some strange ball of flame. It has many eyes. So many eyes. Some of them squint, some of them glare, some of them blink lazily, others blink so fast she doesn’t know if they count as staying open.
It cannot be the sun though. It’s so small. Ellana reaches out and takes that little ball of flame between her front teeth. It’s so small. And not at all hot. In fact, it’s rather cold. She swallows it. She doesn’t feel it go down her throat or into her stomach. It was like air.
Beneath her, several heads rise out of the foaming ocean, blinking salt out of their amber eyes. Barnacles scrape and scales shed, and the dragon of the sea calls out to her.
Ellana stoops down. This can’t be a dragon. It’s too small, isn’t it? She holds out her hand and the creature with its many heads slithers-writhes-clambers onto her palm. It is very small. It leaps into the air and slithers its way between her teeth and down her throat. She doesn’t feel that either.
Next she turns towards the shore. But before she can take another step, Ellana feels something call to her from far away.
It’s her body. Part of it.
Ellana blinks and she is inside of it again. And awake. Much more coherent this time. Coherent enough to feel the dull ache of pain even through what she’s sure is a pretty strong cocktail of drugs in her system.
Ellana breathes out slowly, feeling her bones and her guts testing themselves against her own nerves.
“Maker’s fucking hernias,” a voice says. Ellana’s eyes slide over to see a man who looks like he’s better dressed to be going to a courtroom or maybe on TV than standing in what looks like a sterile room, “You’re supposed to be dead.”
Ellana blinks at him in a way she hopes conveys how much she isn’t sorry about this inconvenience.
He turns to look at someone else, Ellana slowly does her best to follow his gaze and sees a woman and a man on her other side. The woman is staring at her with wide, shadowed eyes. The man only has one eye to stare at her with but whatever he’s feeling about the situation isn’t showing on his face.
“You’ve got some great timing,” he tells her, “You do that on purpose or what?”
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emptyheadgamer · 8 months
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I'm playing baldurs gate 3. And once I was able l to set aside my frustration with all the ways its different to baldurs gate 1 and 2 (if you know me you know this is a minor miracle) I am enjoying it immensely as it's own thing. Honestly it would have been better for me personally had they called it literally anything else and not set my expectations a certain way.
I will say the other thing that throws me is its very nearly dnd 5e, but there a lot of minor stuff that differs so I constantly find myself going "that's not a thing" like the fighter detting bonus action 1d4 pommel strike cause they're 2 handing a longsword, or the complete rewrite of how favored enemy works for rangers. But all that's minor trappings and even if it keeps giving me pause I'm glad they decided to do stuff that way instead of trying to bring in a bunch of stuff that wouldn't work in game, or is markedly less useful in a restricted video game than in a role play with a dm.
They completely got gnome skin colors wrong tho. If I set my race as gnome I should not be receiving the standard human array of skin colors. Also my character stands mostly below the framing due to the height in some cutscenes. Also Also playing a short race They don't scale the instruments or weapons so everything isnjust too big . And for gnomes and halflings it seems like they just shortened the legs and torso but forgot to do the arms which are freakishly long (and yes thats not a thing for either race). Basically they severely disrespected the short guys, which is a shame because I really prefer playing small characters in dnd.
Also, the choice to include githyanki but not githzerai as playable races is just baffling. The lore of those two is basically a two sides of the same coin scenario, so having one without the other is very bizarre.
All minor nitpicking tho. As a dnd flavored computer game it's very fun.
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noneoutofnone · 8 months
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Baldur’s Gate (1998)
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ithilien-writes · 9 months
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having 20+ years between the most recent installment of your favorite video game series and the last is just wild. like in all the ways you would expect but also in ways like this: I just saved an npc and got an incredibly touching scene where he immediately ran into the arms of his husband and they had this whole background conversation of "are you hurt? / "that scratch looks bad" type of stuff and it was so 🥺🥺🥺
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herrscherofinsanity · 3 months
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Claiming Hearts
Summary: 4 times Jimin gets jealous and 1 time she actually does something about it.
Fluff? I honestly don't know
Yu Jimin (Karina) x fem!reader
Word count: 1.9k
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Flowers
Jimin lingered by the school entrance, her gaze fixated on you, engaged in a conversation with a classmate. As the conversation progressed, a figure approached the girl Jimin had been staring at, flowers in hand, and a warm smile that ignited a pang of jealousy in Jimin's heart.
The vibrant petals seemed to dance in the air, capturing your attention as you graciously accepted the bouquet. Jimin's grip on her textbooks tightened, her knuckles turning white as she fought the internal battle of unspoken emotions.
"Flowers," Jimin thought, her mind echoing with unvoiced feelings. "Does she know how many times I've wanted to bring her flowers, to express what I feel?" The realization stung, a poignant reminder of the hesitations that had kept her from revealing her true emotions.
Amidst the sea of emotions, Jimin remained hidden, an observer to a scene that fueled the flames of longing within her. The laughter and camaraderie around her seemed to fade as she grappled with the ache of unspoken words.
Eventually, you bid farewell to your admirer, the flowers cradled delicately in your arms. Jimin, hidden in the shadows, watched as you disappeared around the corner. A sigh escaped her lips, a mixture of resignation and determination.
"I can't keep hiding," Jimin mused, resolving to confront the emotions that stirred within her. The path to expressing her feelings lay ahead, and with a determined stride, she ventured into the realm of vulnerability.
With the flowers as a poignant memory, Jimin set forth on a journey to unveil the truth hidden within her heart.
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2. Party People
The pulsating beat of music reverberated through the crowded room as Jimin navigated the sea of partygoers. Spotting you amidst the lively gathering, she couldn't help but marvel at how the ambient lights played on your features, casting a captivating glow.
However, the enchanting moment was abruptly interrupted. Jimin's eyes narrowed as she noticed a line of eager dancers forming around you, each extending an invitation to share a dance. The realization hit her like a sudden gust of wind, unsettling and stirring the familiar sensation of jealousy within.
Jimin observed from a distance, her fingers subtly clenching and unclenching as she contemplated the scene. The rhythm of the music seemed to synchronize with the erratic beats of her heart. It wasn't just about dancing; it was the idea of someone else encroaching on the intimate space Jimin yearned to occupy.
"Does she enjoy their company more than mine?" Jimin questioned, jealousy whispering doubts that lingered beneath her calm exterior. She wrestled with the conflicting emotions, the desire to join the dance battling with the fear of facing a truth she might not be ready to confront.
As the party continued to pulse around you, Jimin found herself at a crossroads. Should she step into the dance, embracing the opportunity to be close to you, or should she retreat and grapple with the jealousy that threatened to consume her?
The music carried on, echoing the unspoken sentiments that lingered in the air.
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3. Seating Arrangement:
The lecture hall buzzed with the hum of conversations as students settled into their seats. Jimin, ever attentive to your presence, scanned the room. Today's lecture seemed to hold an unexpected twist as Yunjin, a fellow classmate, approached you, saving you a seat next to her.
Jimin's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of discomfort settling in. The proximity of another person occupying the space Jimin had come to consider her own ignited a spark of jealousy. The seat next to you had always been Jimin's unspoken refuge, a silent agreement that transcended the need for words.
"Does she not want to sit with me?" Jimin pondered, the green-eyed monster whispering doubts that clawed at the edges of her composure. The internal struggle intensified as she debated whether to approach and stake her claim or to maintain a facade of indifference.
The choice lingered in the air, a silent challenge to confront the feelings that danced beneath the surface. Jimin, caught between the desire for closeness and the fear of rejection, watched as you settled into the newly claimed seat, the distance between you magnified by the invisible barrier of unspoken emotions.
As the lecture began, the unoccupied seat next to Jimin echoed with the weight of unexpressed sentiments. The dynamics of your connection seemed to shift, leaving Jimin grappling with the unforeseen challenge of redefining the unspoken bonds that had once held you two close.
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4. Three’s a crowd:
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm hues across the campus grounds as you and Jimin prepared to embark on your usual journey home together. It was a ritual you both cherished, a moment of solace amid the bustling routine of academic life.
However, on this particular day, a sudden addition to your duo caught Jimin off guard. As you stepped out of the campus gates, you casually invited Yeji, another one of your friends, to join you on the walk home. The unexpected intrusion ignited a spark of jealousy within Jimin, a flicker of discomfort at the prospect of sharing a cherished routine.
"Why would she invite someone else?" Jimin questioned, the unspoken fear of being replaced gnawing at the edges of her thoughts. The dynamics of your friendship, built on the foundation of shared moments, seemed to shift beneath the weight of unforeseen circumstances.
Jimin navigated the sidewalks in silence, her gaze occasionally flickering towards you and your unexpected companion. The trio moved through the fading daylight, the echoes of shared laughter laced with the unspoken tension that lingered beneath the surface.
The once familiar path felt different, Yeji’s unwanted presence casting a subtle shadow over the routine Jimin had come to cherish. Jimin, caught between the warmth of shared memories and the chill of uncertainty, pondered the significance of this unexpected company on the journey home.
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5: Taking matters into my own hands
Jimin strode through the bustling hallway, her heart pounding in sync with the rhythm of her footsteps. The day had taken an unexpected turn as she witnessed Nayeon, a senior known for her charm and confidence, approach you with an invitation that hung in the air like an impending storm.
"This can't go on any longer," Jimin determined, her gaze narrowing as she reached the precipice of her own internal struggle.
Without hesitation, she closed the distance between you, a surge of determination guiding her actions. The sight of you engaged in conversation with Nayeon fueled Jimin's resolve. She couldn't stand by any longer, watching others vie for the affections of the one who held her heart.
"y/n," Jimin's voice cut through the ambient noise, drawing your attention. Startled, you turned towards Jimin, your eyes widening at the urgency in the other girl's expression.
"We need to talk. Now." Jimin declared, seizing your arm and guiding you away from the curious gazes that lingered.
Confusion etched across your face as Jimin led you to an empty classroom, the door closing behind both of you with a resounding click. The confined space amplified the tension, setting the stage for a confrontation neither of you had anticipated.
"Jimin, what's going on?" you questioned, concern furrowing your brow as you faced the visibly distressed taller girl.
Jimin, her emotions teetering on the edge of revelation, took a deep breath. The floodgates of unspoken truths were about to open, and she could no longer suppress the torrent of feelings that threatened to consume her.
"I can't do this anymore, y/n," Jimin admitted, her voice laced with a mixture of frustration and longing. "I can't stand by and watch other people try to win you over when all I want is to be the one who makes your heart race."
A pregnant pause hung in the air as you absorbed Jimin's words, the gravity of the revelation settling between you two. The silence that followed was shattered by the weight of unspoken emotions.
In a vulnerable confession, Jimin laid bare the feelings that had tormented her. "I'm in love with you, y/n. I can't keep pretending that it doesn't hurt to see others vying for your attention."
The revelation hung in the air, a precipice between friendship and something more profound. You felt your own emotions surfacing looking up at Jimin with a mixture of surprise and realization.
"I... I had no idea," you whispered, your own confession echoing in the hallowed silence. "Jimin, I'm in love with you too."
The moment of revelation hung in the air, a delicate dance of vulnerability and acknowledgment. As you confessed your reciprocated feelings, a radiant smile illuminated Jimin's face, eclipsing the shadows of uncertainty that had lingered for too long.
With unabashed joy, Jimin surged forward, enveloping you in an exuberant hug. The confines of the classroom echoed with laughter and the lightness of newfound understanding. Jimin couldn't contain the whirlwind of emotions that cascaded through her, and in a burst of unrestrained elation, she twirled you around, your laughter intertwining like a melody that resonated with the cadence of shared affection.
"I can't believe we both felt the same way," Jimin exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with unbridled happiness. "y/n, would you do me the honor of going on a date with me?"
You gave Jimin the brightest smile she had ever seen, caught in the whirlwind of emotion and the newfound revelation, your eyes reflecting the shared joy between you. "Of course, Jimin. I'd love to go on a date with you."
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Bonus: Mine
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the school courtyard as students meandered through the scattered clusters of conversation. You and Jimin, now blissfully entwined in the magic of newfound love, strolled hand in hand. Yet, amidst the tranquil atmosphere, a familiar figure approached from the periphery.
Jimin's eyes narrowed slightly as she noticed Nayeon making her way toward you, a seemingly innocent smile adorning her features. A pang of protective jealousy surged within Jimin, prompting her to take swift action.
With a determined stride, Jimin intercepted Nayeon just as she reached you. Ignoring the subtle surprise in Nayeon's gaze, Jimin wrapped her arm around your waist, pulling you close. In a bold declaration, Jimin pressed a gentle yet possessive kiss on your lips, the embodiment of claiming what was rightfully hers.
A chorus of whispers and gasps rippled through the onlookers, and Jimin, slightly flustered by her own audacity, glanced at you with a sheepish smile. "Just making sure everyone knows you're taken," Jimin teased, her eyes sparkling with a mix of playfulness and genuine affection.
Amused by Jimin's impromptu display, you chuckled softly. "Jealous much?"
Jimin blushed, feigning innocence. "Me? Jealous? Never," she replied, her voice layered with a hint of mock defensiveness.
The newfound couple, caught in the orbit of this unexpected spectacle, exchanged glances and knowing smiles. Jimin, triumphant in her quest to ward off potential suitors, and you, reveling in the endearing quirks of your girlfriend, continued your journey through the school courtyard, hand in hand, your love story etched in the tender moments that unfolded with each shared step.
And so, in the glow of the fading daylight, you and your girlfriend embarked on a journey filled with laughter, love, and the sweet anticipation of a future painted in the hues of your intertwined hearts.
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A/N: Hi, hello! The following 5 weeks might actually be the death of me, but oh well. I hope you enjoy this work, and also, thank you so much for reading!
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not-so-blue · 9 months
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BALDUR'S GATE 3 it's time to gather your party and venture forth!
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gingerbloof · 5 months
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milk and honey (astarion x fem!tav)
contents: 18+ only, minors DNI, major fluff, mentions of past trauma, scent kink, blood drinking (of course), needy astarion, nipple play, sweet, gentle love making, oral receiving, creampie, praise
author note: yayy another oneshot! this one’s more lovey dovey as the last one was quite raunchy hehe, i hope you enjoy! i am open to any and all feedback :D
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“Alright, I’m heading out, love. I’ll be back later, okay?” You said as you smiled at your beautiful vampire boyfriend.
“Please be safe, my darling. I couldn’t stand to lose you,” He said sweetly, smiling back. You giggle and roll your eyes playfully. “We’re just checking out a nearby village, I promise I’ll be safe. I love you!” You slip out of the tent and disappear.
Astarion heard you gathering your party and eventually venture forth, leaving him in the tent to lounge. He sighed and stirred around on his bedroll, finding it difficult to focus on meditating. He couldn’t get his past out of his head…
This was a normal thing that happened when you were gone. He felt unsafe, like Cazador would pop up out of nowhere and make his life a living hell once again.
He shuddered at the thought and scooted over onto your side of the bedroll, to feel the warmth from your body heat. He took a deep breath and noticed… It smelled like you. He felt his cold, dead heart light up. He buried his face into the pillow and breathed in deep, moaning softly at the scent. Smelled like… Milk and honey. A soft, warm scent, and so comforting.
After a few hours the pillow started to not smell like you as much, almost like his nose inhaled the entire scent off the pillow. If his heart was still beating it would be racing right now, he was addicted to it. He needed more of your scent, and now. He needed to be encased in it, to feel safe again.
His eyes darting around the tent as his thoughts began to haunt him once again, until he found your pajama shirt. He grabbed it and pressed it to his face, inhaling deeply. “Fuck…” He moaned out loud. He felt so safe inhaling you, but he also felt… Aroused. Very aroused. The more he smelled you the more the bulge in his pants began to grow.
Suddenly the flaps to the tent opened, letting the sun’s rays shine in, and you come in, but he didn’t notice. He was too encased in your scent.
“Honey, I’m home- What’re you doing?” You giggle as you see his face buried in your shirt. He was feeling so vulnerable just now, and you seeing him like this made him feel so embarrassed. He quickly threw your shirt to the side and sat up. “O-Oh, hello, darling! Didn’t expect you home so soon,” He stuttered. If he had any blood flow his cheeks would be bright red.
You put your hands on your hips and look at him smugly. “Were you sniffing my shirt?” You ask, stepping closer to him. He averted from your gaze, trying to find his composure and get his cunning attitude back. “Sniffing your shirt? Preposterous,” He said, rolling his eyes. He knew he was caught, and he knew you could read him like a children’s book, but he tried deceiving you anyway.
You smile and sit down next to him. “Star, you don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s okay, I think it’s sweet,” You say, reaching out to cup his face. He leaned into your touch and sighed, defeated. “It’s just… When you’re gone, I’m left with only my memories, and the only thing that can make me feel… safe again, is your scent,” He admits, his eyes starting to gloss over with tears.
It wasn’t uncommon that Astarion would cry when he opened up. It must be a trauma response thing, but whatever the cause, you always wiped his tears away and held him as he silently cried. “Sweetheart, all I want is for you to be, and feel safe. You can have my perfume if you want if we’re ever apart,” You say, your fingers curling in his hair. He sniffled and smiled, burying his face in your shirt, breathing you in. Gods you were intoxicating… “I’d like that very much, darling. Thank you,” He sighed, moving up to bury his face into the crook of your neck, embracing you.
You wrapped your arms around him as well, squeezing him gently. “I love you, Star. I promise you’ll always be safe with me,” You said, kissing his head. He breathed you in once again and sighed, relaxing in your embrace.
As you held him closer you couldn’t help but notice something hard pressing against your leg. You didn’t acknowledge it, as you promised yourself you wouldn’t initiate anything, just in case he felt uncomfortable. He was his own person and you wanted him to decide whether or not to do anything about his… problem.
Your question was quickly answered when he started to tenderly kiss your neck, paying special attention to his favorite vein that ran between your shoulder and the base of your neck. Smelling you was one thing, but tasting you was another, and he wanted it so badly.
You bit your lip and tightened your embrace around him, bringing him impossibly closer to you. His fangs very gently started to scratch along the vein, but he pulled away ever so slightly to ask permission.
“May I, darling?” He whispered against your skin. You silently nod, your heart racing. He smiled and whispered a sweet “Thank you,” before slowly sinking his fangs in. The familiar sting caused your breath to hitch, but you relaxed as the pleasure of your blood leaving your body took ahold of you. You hold the back on his head as he continued to drink from you, moaning softly at the taste of you.
His hips began to grind against your leg, his erection throbbing and grinding into your leg. He was filling encased in you and couldn’t contain his lust. He pulled away just as you were starting to become lightheaded and lapped away the blood trickling down your neck. He pulled away further to look into your eyes. His eyes were half lidded and full of love. Love for you.
He couldn’t contain himself, he needed more of you. He needed to show you how much he loved you. He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in for a sweet, longing kiss. You push yourself against him and place your hands on his hips, kissing back. Your tongues danced around each other and you both moaned at the taste of each other.
His hands started to wander, feeling every curve of your body as his breath started to quicken. He pulled away from the kiss to quickly remove your shirt, pushing you back into the bedroll in the process. You gasp, a bit surprised at the sudden movement, but you relax once Astarion’s mouth trails down your neck and onto your nipple, sucking it gently.
You whimper softly as his hand massaged your opposite breast. His other one trailed down your side, and his thumb hooked in your pants. He tugged gently, silently asking you to remove the rest of your clothes. He pulled away to let you remove your pants and underwear in a swift movement.
You lay back down and spread your legs, letting his body get between them. He continued to suck and fondle your breasts for a little bit, causing a burning sensation in between your thighs. You moan and your hips grind into the air uncontrollably. He knew how much you liked your breasts being played with and never failed to oblige.
His lips started to trail down your body now, leaving soft kisses and gently nips on the way. The only thing on his mind was you. He wanted his senses to be full of you. Your touch, your scent, the way you sounded, your taste. Everything. He eventually found your thighs, and kissed down them slowly, too slowly.
You whine and raise your hips, hoping to meet your lower lips with his. “A-Astarion…” You whine, growing impatient. He chuckles as he holds your hips in place, not allowing you to move. “Sshh, darling. Let me enjoy this. Let me enjoy you,” He whispered against your skin. A chill ran around your spine as his cold breath brushed across your lips. He breathed you in and moaned, before slowly bringing his lips right above your clit, kissing it extremely softly.
Your breath quickens and you arch your back. Finally, his tongue slides down your slit and makes its way to your clit, swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“A-Ah… Fuck, Star your mouth feels so good,” You moan, reaching down to run your fingers through his silver locks. You feel him smile against you and he looks up at you, the crimson orbs full of love and lust. “You taste even better, my sweet,” He purred, going back down to continue to dine upon you. His tongue parts your lips, and he begins to lap up the juices flowing from your entrance. He groans and grips your thighs, pushing them back to expose you more to him.
His tongue found your clit again, instead this time he parts his lips to gently suck on it, swirling his tongue around it as well. He slowly aligned his finger with your entrance and teased it a bit, earning a whine and a slight tug at his hair from you. He slowly pushes it in and curls his finger to press against your g spot.
The mix of the pressure of his finger against your g spot and your clot being sucked was almost too much to handle. Your breathing became erratic, and your whimpers uncontrollable. “S-Star, I’m so close,” You stutter. “Please, please let me come in your mouth,” You plead, wiggling under him. He pulled away just enough to purr “You’re doing so well, darling. Come for me, coat my tongue with you,” while keeping a steady pace with his finger. His mouth begins to work your clit again, a bit faster.
The quickened pace is what undoes you. You clenched around his finger and your clit pulsated against his tongue as you came, a loud moan leaving your lips. He moaned as your juiced flowed around his finger, and he made no hesitation to slip it out and lick up the slimes substance from your hole and his finger.
You pant heavily as you regain your vision, the pounding in your ears subsiding. He crawls back up to you as he licks his lips, not wasting a single drop of you. “You are so delicious, darling. And so beautiful,” He says softly, kissing your forehead sweetly. “May I bask in your further?” He asked, hooking his thumb in his pants. You smile and cup his face, placing a small kiss on his nose. “Yes, as long as it’s what you want, my Star,” You reply, earning you a sincere smile. “It is, darling. It absolutely is,” He said, pulling his pants down.
His cock springs from his pants between your legs. It twitched, and leaked precum. He needed to be inside you now, to drown in your love. He took your ankles and put them on his shoulders, exposing you fully to him.
He lined his tip up with your entrance before slowly pushing his way into you. You both moan at the shock of pleasure running through you both. There is no resistance as he bottoms out, staying balls deep inside you for a moment, enjoying your warmth and wetness.
He let out a shaky breath as he slowly started to roll his hips into you, grinding his cock against your g spot. You gasp, waves of bliss covering your body like a soft blanket. He’s so gentle with you, his hips making slow, steady and precise movements against yours. “You feel divine,” He purrs, kissing along your legs and quickening his pace a tad. “Gods I love you so much, I am utterly intoxicated with you,” He starts to whimper, his neediness for you showing more and more with each thrust.
You’re a whimpering quivering mess yourself, losing yourself in all of him. You’ve never felt this way about anyone, and you know you never will again. You love him so much, it starts to bring a tear to your eye. “I-I love you too, my Star. My beautiful shining Star,” Your hands run up his body, tracing every dip and curve of his muscles under your fingers.
Astarion’s grip on your ankles tighten a bit and his thrust become uneven and erratic. He was about to come, and you as well. “D-Darling, come with me. P-Please,” He begged, now gripping at your thighs as he thrusted harder into you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, moaning into his mouth. With only a couple more thrusts, you both fell apart together. You let out a high pitched moan, almost like a scream into his mouth and he growled into yours as you both came, his chest heaving as he panted.
You each pull away, leaving a string of saliva connecting your mouths. You look at each other with such love, such compassion, and you can’t help but tear up. Astarion gave you puppy dog eyes as he held your face. “Oh, my treasure what’s the matter?” He asked worryingly, hoping whatever was making you start crying wasn’t his doing. You giggle and shake your head, cupping his face as well. “I just love you so much, and I need you to know that.” You said, letting a tear slip down your face. He smiled and kissed the tear away, slowly slipping out of you and laying next to you, holding you tight. “I love you so much more, my sweet,” He whispered.
You both nuzzle into each other and stare into each others eyes. This moment, this moment right here, was utterly perfect. Soon enough your eyes started to flutter shut, falling asleep with your face buried in his chest. He took a small sniff from your head as he closed his eyes as well, and whispered.
“Goodnight, my sweet… I promise, nothing will take you from me. Nothing.”
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herssian · 11 months
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woke up at five am because i still can’t believe two full expansions later how smart it is to make azem’s unique trick be the party finder. a realm reborn had npcs tell you to “gather your most trusted adventurers and venture forth” and now the game straight up canonically explains how you come to fight alongside seven other randoms. i’m obsessed
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You must gather your party before venturing forth.
Baldur’s Gate 3 releases on August 3rd, 2023 for PC, Mac, and September 6th for PS5.
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galedekarios · 8 months
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GATHER YOUR PARTY AND VENTURE FORTH
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mogwaei · 5 days
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"You must gather your party before venturing forth--"
[Zjinn: dragging all 10+ companions everywhere on every quest they possibly can get away with it]
I only had the strength to draw four but zjinn loves them all.
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heartslogos · 1 year
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newfragile yellows [1247]
“You're not the sort of type to say you don't believe in magic, are you?” Dr. Pavus asks, handing Ellan another cup of water. This one Ellana manages to hold on her own, though Dr. Pavus’ hand lingers close in case she falters. “We get those sort now and again. It’s always rough. Sera, Varric, Malika — those names mean nothing to you, of course. But they’re prime examples of people who all got the same metaphorical and literal veil ripped from their eyes, same as you, but took it in vastly different ways.”
The magic and supernatural are real. Ellana doesn’t struggle with that concept. Ellana’s hand a many headed wolf haunting her since practically birth. What Ellana struggles with is —
“But why me?” Ellana asks. “There’s nothing special about me.”
“Oh, I know,” Dr. Pavus nods. “Trust me, we all know. We’ve gone through your family lineage from to back almost ten generations now. Your family does have immaculate tracing by the by. It’s very impressive. Most people who aren’t in the possession of obscene and frankly dubious amounts of wealth don’t keep track past their great grand parents. But yes. No offense meant, but your family tree’s only distinguishing feature is that it’s remarkably intact and traceable. No one of note — well, not for our purposes. I’m sure that somewhere along those branches there’s someone important in some way.”
“We’re regular people with blue and white collar jobs. Upper middle class is the best it’s ever gotten for us.” Though certainly not the worst. “You can say it. We’re average. It isn’t an insult.”
“For some people it is.” Dr. Pavus shrugs. He crosses his legs, resting his elbow on his knee as he leans his chin on his fist. “And then there’s you. Ellana Lavellan. I’m technically not a medical professional you know. I am a scientist. I do have a doctorate. But I am not a medical professional. In a pinch I suppose I could be helpful to someone with actual medical knowledge. I’m a biologist. And, in the Inquisition, a part time mortician. I was called in to start checking your corpse.”
“I don’t feel like I’ve died.”
“I would say most people don’t, but most people don’t stay dead for seven hours and then come back to the living. You are quite special in that regard. Among others, I’m sure, but we haven’t gotten to that yet.”
“I have student loans, I live in a shared house, I work as a nurse in a retirement home,” Ellana rattles off. “I drive a second hand car that I got off of one of my cousins for cheap. I think the most expensive thing I own is my phone. There’s nothing special about me.”
“Except?”
Ellana closes her eyes, sitting back against the raised up head of the hospital bed.
“An affectation of childhood that grew with me.”
“There it is.”
“But my question isn’t as to whether that’s unusual or not. I know it is. If you say it’s magic or ghosts or whatever, then it probably is. I don’t have a better way to explain it. My question is — why me? Why did it choose me?”
“That’s what we’d all love to know.”
Ellana opens her eyes to see the woman from earlier has returned, again flanked by the same Qunari man and also joined by a red headed woman.
“I’m Evelyn Trevelyan,” the first woman says. “I’m the leader of the Inquisition. I trust Dorian’s explained everything by now?”
“Enough of it,” Ellana answers.
“This is Leliana, and this is the Iron Bull. They’re also members of the Inquisition. We’re going to try and sort out what’s going on here and see what we can do.” Evelyn pulls up a plastic chair next to Dr. Pavus’. “And I understand that this is a lot, especially if you weren’t born into it or given any gradual lead in. If you need to take a break you can say so. You aren’t under arrest, you aren’t being charged with anything. You are remanded into our custody, but you aren’t a prisoner. You can make phone calls, you can use your phone, browse the internet, go on social media, fact check everything if you want to. Within reason. We’d greatly prefer if you didn’t do a selfie and then tag this place. This was explained to you, right?”
Ellana nods. Someone had returned her phone earlier and helpfully loaned her a charger with an extra long cable, which is plugged into the wall next to her bed. Her bag had been salvaged from the scene of — whatever that car chase was — and is sitting on a table near the door. She’d half-heartedly gone through it earlier. Everything was there.
“What we would like to have explained to us,” Leliana says, “Is why the Acolytes of the Wolf seemed to be chasing after you.”
“I’m sure you’d like that explained to you also.”
Ellana shrugs. “As Dr. Pavus and I were saying to each other, there’s nothing special about me at all.”
“Everyone has something special about them,” Leliana says. “I’m not saying this to be nice.”
“She rarely says anything to be nice,” The Iron Bull says.
“I mean. I, myself, have nothing special about me. There’s no reason for any of this to come to me,” Ellana explains. “I’m pathetically average in every way. Whatever talents or traits of mine that come above that are balanced out by the ones that fall below. There’s only one thing special about me and I have no idea why — if it’s connected to any of this — it would choose me of all people.”
“What is it?”
Ellana’s eyes slide behind all of them, to the wall, the door. She’d seen it when people were coming in and out. The wolf. Shrunk down small enough to fit in the hallway of whatever kind of building she’s in. But its many eyes were still open. Watching her. Its mouths slightly open and panting.
“The wolf,” Ellana answers calmly. “The many headed wolf.”
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ncroissant · 25 days
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heya!!! i love your writing! everything is put together so beautifully.
could i please request a oneshot, or whatever you feel like writing, of chilchuk with an s/o that he constantly uses as a chair or to carry him on their shoulders? Either he decides to do this on his own or his s/o just does this out of nowhere lmao
i'd prefer if it's gender neutral and sfw, but if you can't do that it's totally fine!
thank you so much, sorry for bothering you!
chilchuck x gn! reader
summary: chilchuck's love language is using his s/o as a cushion (affectionately)
wc: 475
content warning: sfw, fluff, crackish
author's note: thanks u sm for the ask anon, this is literally so cute. fluff is not my forte, but i tried my best!! :) this kinda came out like a short little blurb instead of a one shot, but lmk if you want something longer!! i hope you enjoyed this!! not proofread
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you didn't notice when he started doing this, but chilchuck had a habit of climbing onto you like a tree.
you didn't need to be as tall as laios to be taller than your half-foot boyfriend. he was around the height of your shoulder, which was apparently perfect climbing material for him.
"what...are you doing?" you winced as he used your hips as a ledge to maneuver his leg onto your shoulder, doing the same on your other.
"just, huff, tryna get on here," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your head. he shifted so he could sit more comfortably on your shoulders.
"there we go," he huffed, taking his nimble fingers off your face, wrapping them around your neck.
you chuckled, looking up at your boyfriend. "well, this is new," you smirked at the blush on his face. "someone's being a little clingier than usual."
"well, i'm your partner, so why can't i be clingy?" he grumbled, tugging at your ear menacingly.
you tried to swat him away as you laughed at his defensiveness. "i surrender," you put your hands up, waving your imaginary white flag. "you can be as clingy as you like, chil," you grabbed his ankle, venturing forth.
for the next few days, chilchuck would grow increasingly affectionate with you.
he'd curl up into your lap like a cat when the rest of the party would gather around the fire, food in hand. or sit on your lap while you read books like a little kid.
one of his favorite things to do was sit on your shoulders and measure his height against laios. "we're about the same height now," chilchuck sneered, measuring with his hand once more good measure.
"it's only because of them! you're usually down here, pipsqueak," laios argued, measuring his hand lower to chilchuck's natural height. chilchuck scoffed in response, pointing you away from laios.
"yeah, yeah, run away cause i'm right," laios chuckled, rolling his eyes.
once when you were fighting monsters, you'd instinctively scoop chilchuck in your arms, knowing he wasn't built for fighting. it would be muscle memory to just grab chilchuck at even a glimpse of danger.
"chil, over here!" you exclaimed from his left. when a mimic came racing towards him. he hopped into your arms and you whisked him away, while laios took care of it.
he'd never question it. something about you was so warm and comforting. he loved the plushness of your thighs and the sturdiness of your shoulders. everything about you made him feel safe.
he'd never let you know that though.
he'd just start doing whatever he wanted as long as it involved being with you. he'd trust you to save him from danger and you'd let him climb you whenever he pleased.
something about being with you made him feel like a little kid again.
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babygorewhore · 8 months
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Motive.
Tate Langdon imagine.
On Halloween, you and your boyfriend Tate are on a date. As you talk about his past as the slasher, Ghostface, he comes to realize that he needs to be punished for his actions.
Can you tell Scream is my favorite slasher series? WARNINGS. Sub! Tate. Mommy kink. Degrading. Dom! Reader. Knife play. Blood play. Talk of violence. Oral! Male and female receiving. PnV! Overall filth. Brief Tate POV.
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Halloween was your favorite day of the year. Not only was the weather perfect, the best scary movies were released, costumes became creative but also because Tate could go out and venture into the world.
This was your second Halloween together. The first year you went to the beach. A place he admitted used to be his designated spot whenever he needed to escape. You had discussed back and forth before ultimately deciding to have your date at a graveyard.
It filled your gothic heart.
Your relationship was exciting, despite his eternal life as a ghost.
Tate carried the blanket and bottle of liquor you bought on your way home. The walk wasn’t far, allowing you to wear platform shoes that went along with your costume. You were dressed as the Scarlet Witch. Trading in your black clothing for red.
Tate allowed you to paint his face with makeup, skeletal features were his preference. It took you almost an hour but you wanted to be precise. You slicked his curly hair back with product. But he would do anything you asked. He was your good boy. You held your own bag close to your body.
A week ago, you gifted him a cellphone. For reason one, he could contact you while you were working. And secondly, it would make tonight even better. It was secured in his denim pocket. He wasn’t able to hold your hand, so you opted to hold the crook of his elbow.
You stepped through the entrance of the cemetery. The overhanging metal curved over your head as your eyes swept over the hundreds of tombstones. “This way, baby.” Tate gestured with his head towards the left. You allowed yourself to be guided.
Your feet padded over the grass. It was dark, but the adjacent streetlight gave you enough ability to see your path.
Tate led you down the narrow section between a towering tree and a collection of tombstones before he pulled you to a stopping point in front of a smaller one. “Here I am.” He smirked, his skeleton makeup curving, turning to look at you.
The modest headstone was ordinary, without any flowers to commemorate the loss. You nodded as you registered the name.
Tate Langdon 1977- 1994. Loving son.
You chuckled breathlessly at his joke. “This is one hell of an idea, having a date in front of your own grave.”
Tate quirked an eyebrow before pulling you to a seated position, setting the blanket down on the ground and alcohol aside. You both hadn’t bothered with cups, planning on just drinking out of the bottle, something you’d both done several times. He wrapped his arm around you, your head nuzzled on his shoulder.
“What was your motive, Tate? Being Ghostface?” It was before you were born but everyone heard about the killing spree during 1994. It started with one murder, a teenage girl strung up on a tree. Before it escalated to a principal. Those weren’t enough to raise concerns until the last night when the killer was caught.
It was at a party. A curfew had been given but a group of teens threw a gathering anyway. Two more people were murdered. Brutally. One girl was inside a dog door inside the garage. The man’s throat had been slit and he was dragged across the front of a van.
The murderer wore a gown and a mask.
Tate Langdons identity was revealed after he had been gunned down by the swat team. He took too long at the house as the police were called. The term Ghostface had been taken as a joke before it ultimately stuck with him. But he never revealed why he did it. Even during the last seconds of his life. Yet, his soul remained in the very home he was killed in.
He had been shot down in the Murder House.
You’d seen the apparel once. When he played the same game with you after class several weeks ago. Where he fingered you, used the very blade he commented the crimes with. It gave him pleasure to scare you. Or try too.
“My motive?” He asked, glancing down at you. He didn’t like to talk about his past. He hated answering questions because he didn’t want to relive it. He was always paranoid you’d leave him if he explained. You knew the relationship was toxic. But you still loved him.
Besides. He was already dead. What more could he do?
“Yes. Why did you do it?” You lifted your chin upward, watching as he clenched his jaw.
“Who said I needed a reason?” You pursed your lips as he teased you.
“Tate. Be serious. Why? Why did you kill them?”
Several seconds of silence followed. All you felt was the pattern of his breathing.
“I wanted to die. And I wanted to take people with me. I wanted to scare them. I wanted them to think they had a chance to escape me. I wanted my mother to know exactly what kind of monster she created. That’s why I killed her boyfriend. I wanted her to know the pain she made me feel.”
You allowed the confession to hang in the air. It wasn’t fear you felt, more like a realization that Tate had been dangerous. Your loving, doting and obsessed boyfriend had been a killer. He knew exactly how to press the blade down on your skin without breaking it. He knew how to walk without making noise. He enjoyed seeing you beg for him. Beg for his cock. Beg for him to let you finish.
But you wanted him to have a turn. He needed to experience it.
“Mmm. Did you like being covered in blood?” You asked, your voice soft despite the disturbing question.
Tate swallowed. “I didn’t really think about it.” You nodded and pulled your hands in your lap. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, instead starting at the stone.
“Do you ever think about me, covered in blood?” You withheld a smile when he took a sharp inhale. He blinked.
“Y-yes.” He looked down at you but you reached up, taking his chin between your thumb and pointer finger. You set his jaw straight.
“Did I say you could look at me?” Tate shakes his head obediently.
“Good boy. Do you ever think about…me killing someone?” His lips parted and he heavily inhaled through his nose.
“Yes.” He half whispered, half whined.
“Have you thought about fucking me in the costume? Using the knife on me again? While I’m covered in someone else’s blood?”
Tate shifted on the ground, his eyes glazing as he tried to keep his focus ahead. “Babe-“
“Don’t interrupt me, Tate. Be good and answer only when I tell you to.” You sternly commanded. “Yes or no?”
“Yes.” He shakily answered. You needed to push a little harder, just a bit to get exactly what you needed.
“What are you thinking about now, Tate? And make sure you’re honest.” You kept watching him. His teeth grazed his lower lip, despite the paint and his hand started to drift to his pants.
“I want to splay you on the ground, right here. Right now. I want to spread your legs, taste you with my mouth before I fuck you senseless. Until you can’t wait. And then do it all over again.” You quirked an eyebrow before your hand fell to his thigh.
“What about you, baby? Don’t you want me to make you feel good? To suck your dick? Make you cum in my mouth?” He shivered and his fingers drifted to his crotch.
“I’d rather feel you cum. I don’t care about me. All I want is you.” You hummed and your finger tips grazed his growing erection.
“Mmm. You’re such a sweet boy, Tate. Do you like it when my legs are around your head? Do you like that?”
Tate’s hand finally palmed his dick and you smiled in triumph. You lifted yourself from his embrace and you grabbed his wrist.
“Tate. Did I say you could touch yourself? Don’t you remember our rules?” Tate’s eyes widened in response and you shook your head disapprovingly.
The rules consisted that Tate was not allowed to touch himself without permission. Neither were you. Along with a safe word. Mercy.
“I’m sorry-I thought you-“
Your hand raised and wrapped around his neck. You pulled him close as he grunted from the pressure. You squeezed steadily the sides of his throat and you leaned in, hovering over his mouth. “Mmm, my sweet little boy. Getting hard over me being drenched in blood. You’re absolutely pathetic.”
Tate’s eyes glasses over and his lip slightly trembled. “Mama-please-“ He leaned in to kiss you but you pulled your head away.
“I don’t think so, Tate. I think…you need to be punished. Would you agree?” You proposed and he swallowed heavily. Fear prickling his expression.
“Do whatever you want to me. Just let me touch you, please.” Tate placed his hands on your waist, squeezing gently and causing your knee to settle inbetween his legs. “Please, please let me touch you. I can make it up to you. I promise, baby. I can’t stand the thought of you mad at me.”
He laid down, his hair like a blonde halo on the ground as he stared up at you, your hand still wrapped around his neck. He looked so submissive. So willing to make you happy. Ready for you to use him however you fucking wanted.
And you will.
“You’ll make it up to me?” You whispered. Tate started grinding his dick down on your knee, humping like a bitch in heat.
“Yes, anything. I’ll do anything for you.” He encouraged, slipping his fingers down to your waistband, your dark leggings stretching as he attempted to touch your underwear.
Removing your hand from his throat, you slapped him across the face. Tate grimaced from the impact, his head jolting to the side and he blinked at you with watery eyes.
“I didn’t say you could touch me, Tate.” He leaned up, taking his hands off your torso and buried his face in your breasts.
You attempted to push him down but he was a lot stronger than you despite his slender form. His arms wrapped around your hips, making you straddle his pelvis.
“Mama-I’m sorry-I just need you. I want to make you cum. I want you to be proud of me-please let me be good. I promise you’ll be proud of me…” He was begging. You almost gave in, withholding a moan as he pressed kisses on your costume covered breasts but you needed to stick with your plan.
“Tate, if you want to make me feel good. Lay down. Lay down nice and slow for me, baby.” He quickly pulled away, his face paint smudged as he slowly laid his body down on the grass.
You were situated above him, powerful and he was willing to obey every command you gave him. Reaching your hand down, you brushed his cheek with your fingers and he contently leaned in to your touch. “Now, I want you to close your eyes. Keep them closed until you know exactly when to open them.” You instructed in a clear voice.
Tate opened his mouth to protest but you gripped his chin between your fingers. Leaving nail imprints. “What did I say about disobeying me?” He shut them immediately after that. You smirked. Now, the real fun could begin.
Carefully, you brought yourself to stand. Your boots crunching the grass beneath you while walking to your bag. Digging through it, your hands locked around a lightweight but long, black gown. Slipping it on, you then pulled out the last needed item.
The Ghostface mask. And the same blade Tate used on you.
Slipping it over your hair and face, you started walking away as quiet as you could. Then, you tucked the knife to your belt inside the gown. If Tate heard running, he would open his eyes too soon. You disappeared in the bustle of trees across the cemetery before stepping behind the church. Smiling wickedly, you pulled out your cellphone.
Tate was growing impatient. He listened to your footsteps carefully, trying to figure out where you were before they disappeared entirely. Seconds passed, he felt alone. Despite your warnings, Tate opened his eyes and sat up.
You were gone.
Panic set in and he jumped to his feet. What if something was wrong? His breathing grew heavier as he jogged through the area, desperately searching for any signs of you. “Y/n!” He called out but no answer came.
“Fuck. Fucking shit.” He ran his fingers through his mused hair and stepped forward in the direction of the church, but his cellphone started ringing.
Tate frowned and looked at his pocket. Only one person knew of his number. Maybe you needed help. He dug it out of the material and pressed it to his ear.
“Y/n, are you okay? Where are you?”
“Hello, Tate Langdon.” He froze and his eyes widened. The voice on the other end.
Was Ghostface. The very same alteration he used in 1994. The same he used to call Y/N.
He opened and closed his mouth, unable to come up with a response. It was all a trick. It was Y/N. But…how did she sneak it past him?
“Don’t you know it’s bad manners not to respond to a greeting?” Ghostface prodded and Tate cleared his throat.
“Hey. Y/N, is that what you were planning? Where are you?”
“Tate, you’ve been such a bad boy. Dreaming about your girlfriend killing someone.” He huffed out an embarrassed breath and scanned the area around him.
“This-this isn’t funny, asshole.” He muttered under his breath.
“Oh, I’d be careful about calling me names, Tate. You wouldn’t want me to slit that pretty neck of yours, would you?” Ghostface leered. Tate chuckled and started moving towards the trees.
“That wouldn’t matter. I’m already dead.”
“But that doesn’t mean you can’t be punished, Tate. For all the things you did to those poor, innocent people.”
“Innocent?” He parroted.
“Yes. In fact, I wonder if movies influenced you. Movies can be a powerful inspiration. Tell me…what’s your favorite scary movie?” Tate squatted down, trying to see evidence of your boot prints but he didn’t see anything.
“Do you really have to go through the whole speech? I asked too many questions.” He said to himself.
“Is that a refusal to my question? Mmm, Tate. You just can’t listen, can you?” Ghostface teased and he sighed with frustration.
“Where are you?”
“Aw, you look so pretty when you’re desperate.” He looked around, realizing you must be close by, able to see his expression. Instead of answering, he crept closer to the church.
“What happens if I find you?” He asked, excitedly looking for you.
“Then, you get to make me cum. Just like you want.” Tate groaned and quickly looked behind the building.
No one was there.
He went to speak before a hand gripped his hair, yanking him back and a sharp blade pressed against his neck. He gasped.
“You didn’t think it be that easy, did you?” Y/N said, her voice still altered. Tate wanted desperately to turn around and pound her on the ground but the knife nicked his skin.
Blood trickled down and the hand that gripped his hair, traveled down his face, to his throat. Her finger collected the plasma and smeared it across his lips.
“Please, Christ I can’t take it anymore. Please, let me fuck you. I’m begging you, please y/n.” Tate pleaded. Y/N turned him around.
He stared down at her, her gown hung on her body. The mask was secure and she aimed the knife at his chest. “Sorry, I just wanted to hear you scream.”
“Get on your back.” You commanded. Tate fell to the ground, landing underneath you and you smiled behind the mask. Finally, he was listening. With your free hand, you unbutton his jeans and yanked them down.
You lifted his shirt up, exposing his v line and the thin patch of hair. His dick was hard and prominent through his boxers. A wet patch of precum staining it. You shook your head, taking the blade and lightly tracing it across his skin.
Tate inhaled sharply and bucked his hips. Humping the air as you played with the knife. His hand lifted and you smacked his crotch with the handle. He stilled, panting as you peeled off the mask. You set the blade down, hooking your fingers around his waistband and then you pulled it down his legs.
His cock hung heavy, thick and red at the tip. “So needy, baby.” Your voice was back to normal. You lowered yourself on your stomach, wrapping your hand around his dick before licking a single stripe along the vein.
Tate whimpered with a high pitch whine as his hand flew to your hair. Allowing the grip, you pulled the tip to your lips and started sucking gently. His fingers pulled your hair, hard enough to hurt but you massaged his cock with your hand as you bobbed your head up and down.
He was a mess, moaning and shaking as you gave him head. “I’m gonna-I’m gonna cum.” He grunted. His climax rushed through, gushing out of your mouth as you helped him ride out his orgasm.
You pulled back, your lipstick smeared and you wiped your chin with the back of your hand. Before you had a chance to breathe, Tate flipped you over, immediately smashing his lips to yours. As he shoved his tongue in your mouth, hungrily kissing you, his hand frantically felt your torso. You kissed him back feverishly, pulling his hair as he sank his teeth into your lower lip.
You mewled as he ripped himself away and then sloppily kissing your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. “You’re mine, all fucking mine.” He pleaded like a prayer as he rocked his hips against yours, his hardening dick against you.
As submissive as he was, Tate could also fuck you like it was his last time ever doing so. You were lost in the growing pleasure as he brushed his tongue against your sweet spot. He fumbled to pull your leggings down and underwear down, any coordination gone as he shoved himself down. You wanted to resist, regain control but he pried your legs apart.
“Tate-“ You started but he shook his head. He opened his mouth, laid his tongue flat against your pussy as he started lapping away at your clit.
“No, no, don’t tell me to stop. I need this, mommy.” He moaned against your cunt as he circled his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You tried to withhold your sounds but he grazed your pussy with his teeth. “No, I want to hear how good this feels.” Tate dug his fingernails into your thighs to keep you still, dragging them painfully but deliciously down. You felt the hilt of the knife against your entrance and you looked down. Tate’s eyes were black as he effortlessly slipped the handle inside you. The foreign feeling pumped in and out as his mouth worked your swollen pussy. You weren’t going to last much longer as he increased the speed.
A overpowering wave of pleasure exploded and you couldn’t make any noise as you trembled. Tate finally pulled back and removed the handle from you. He crawled up, cupping your chin before he kissed you. Forcing you to taste your own cum.
“I need to fuck you,” He moaned against your lips as he shuffled clumsily to line himself up with your cunt.
He nipped your lip too hard, blood pooled from the small wound and he repeated your earlier actions. Smudging your mouth with blood as he bottomed you out. “Fuck.” He growled. “You look so hot with blood on your skin.”
You arms wrapped around his shoulders as he thrusted, deep inside you, hard enough to hit your cervix but you loved the pain. His movements were growing sloppy. “Don’t cum until I say, Tate. Or else I’ll have to punish you again.”
But he couldn’t listen, his speed thudded inside you and you felt him spill inside you, he squeezed his eyes shut from the orgasm as he came to a stop. He ripped them back open in fear as he understood his mistake. “I’m sorry-you just felt so good-“ He pleaded but you wouldn’t have it.
You pushed him off, forcing him on his stomach as you straddled his back. His bare pelvis pressed against the ground as you trailed your fingers down his skin.
“Now, you’re really going to scream.”
Taglist. @howtobesasha @scene-and-dandylover @evanptrss @randodummy @icannot3 @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @alittlesil @fuckedbykai @hyperharlz
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terendelev · 7 months
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Gather your party and venture forth ! 
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