#architectural aberrations | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

easternmind · 7 months

Text

The weird and wonderful history of Kowloon as a digital interactive space - Part I

The Kowloon Walled City was one of the most emblematic locations in Hong Kong due to its irregular, fast-paced and largely ungoverned growth within a minute parcel of land. During the occupation of Hong Kong Island by the British in the mid 18th century, the Qing authorities surrounded the area with walls, turning it into a strategic position from where to closely inspect the foreign nation's covert activities. Almost a century later, during World War II, the area was seized by the Japanese, who tore down the walls and repurposed the stone for the construction of a nearby airport.

After the war ended, China would eventually regain possession of the city, though the disinterest of local authorities in addressing its increasing social disturbances placed it in a downward path to a state of utter degradation. By the 1970s, Kowloon had become the epicentre of Hong Kong's criminal underworld, dominated by a handful of its most vicious Triads.

Towards the last years of its existence, the ancient settlement was as a precarious heap of concrete, sheltering nearly half a million people within less than seven acres of land. Cultural and political changes in China made it increasingly difficult for this urban anomaly to remain unaddressed. In the late 1980s, an action plan was put together aiming to relocate its inhabitants and reconvert the real estate into an inner-city park. Stories about residents refusing to leave were featured prominently in newspapers all over the world, confusing many a reader as to why anyone in their right mind would choose to live in such insecure and unsanitary conditions. Once the single most densely populated area in the world, this enclave was an architectural aberration whose disconcerting aesthetic influenced numerous works of art in different fields of creation, including a small yet consequential number of video games. This article is as a tour of those interactive experiences through which we can still partake in a small sample of what it was like to exist in this abominably transfixing space.

九龍島 (Kyu-Ryu-Tou) - Starcraft - 1986

The year is 2025. An arms dealer escalates the tensions between East and West by developing a genetic weapon in a secret base at Kowloon Island. The United Nations react by sending in their best man, Jamie Starr. Unrelated to the Walled City itself, the first game to be located in the Kowloon peninsula - and indeed include the name as a part of its title - is this obscure turn-based RPG, Kyu-Ryu-Tou for the NEC PC88 and FM-77 machines. The game is a sequel to Shangai, released the year before, featuring the same protagonist. Starcraft would also go on to produce a third instalment in 1987 named TO.KY.O. Clearly there wasn't much regard here from the developers part for geographic accuracy, as Kowloon is depicted here as being an island. While Hong Kong's southern territory is composed of an actual island, all the different areas named Kowloon are located in the mainland.

Riot City - Westone - 1991

One of the most shameless specimens among a relatively long list of Final Fight clones, Riot City contains subtle references to Kowloon, though never referring to it by name. Two narcotics detectives are assigned with the mission of dismantling a cartel running a crime-ridden located in fictional Riot Island. This recurring yet geographically nonsensical notion of Kowloon as an island comes up here, yet again. The final moment of the introduction sequence for this minor Sega arcade success shows both protagonists approaching a tight cluster of buildings whose source inspiration is quite unmistakable. Because Westone maintained ownership of most of this production's intellectual property, a later port to the PC Engine entitled Riot Zone was made possible with the help of Hudson soft. Kowloon's Gate - Zeque - 1997

Reviving the Walled City through the lens of cybermystic surrealism, Kowloon's Gate is a dense, daunting adventure masterfully capturing the slum's dark and narrow recesses. This 1997 Japanese Playstation exclusive spans across four discs of unparalleled full motion 3D CGI spectacle, alternating with real-time 3D dungeons brimming with outlandish characters and concepts deeply inspired by Chinese history, geography and cultural traditions.

Ironically, Zeque managed to embed the theme of Feng-Shui, the ancient geomantic art seeking harmony between the individual and their surrounding space, into a story set in the world's most historically untidy district.

SaGa Frontier - Square - 1997

SaGa Frontier takes place in a solar system named The Regions, composed of multiple inhabited worlds for the player to explore, each with its different degree of civilizational development and culture. One of these planets goes by the suggestive name Kūron. Its pervasive neon light signs, food stalls, makeshift cabins and rooftop scaffolding instantly evoke the memory of China’s so-called city of darkness.

Shadow Hearts - Sacnoth - 2001

Shortly after the release of Koudelka, Sacnoth's initiated the development of Shadow Hearts, the first episode from a cult RPG trilogy exclusively designed for the Playstation 2. In good Japanese fashion, the game proposes an anachronistic yet visually suggestive depiction of Kowloon, portraying its architectural style and degree of decay as it existed in the late twentieth century, despite the fact that the game's events take place during the nineteen twenties.

Just as noteworthy is the almost complete absence of any inhabitants, which inadvertently make this portrayal of the quarter eerily reminiscent of the state in which it was found circa 1993 or 1994, as local authorities brought the long, arduous eviction project to a close.

Shenmue II - SEGA AM2 - 2001

Shenmue II exhibits the most complete and period-accurate video game representation of Kowloon to date. While more recent games featuring this area may represent a number of its aspects with the aid of improved visual fidelity, none features it with such depth as this masterpiece of masterpieces. More than mere background decoration, Kowloon exists in the Shenmue series as a crucial, climacteric element of its modern epic narrative.

It is a well known fact that Yu Suzuki and his team conducted extensive research of the region so as to achieve a result that impresses even to this day. It must be noted, however, that they have similarly taken a fair share of creative liberty when converting the area to best align with the themes they wished to explore. Further reading is required for a more complete context in this regard, namely how this area ties with an early Dreamcast tech demo design which fans lovingly named Tower of Babel. Ostensively, technical limitations did curtail the degree of precision in which the surrounding area could be replicated. The aerial view from the cutscene in which Ryo Hazuki arrives on location places Kowloon at an imaginary degree of elevation over surrounding vegetation. In the year of 1987, during which the game is set, the actual enclave stood perfectly levelled with a myriad of other modern buildings, undoubtedly more than could be reproduced under the circumstances. These trifling considerations aside, Shenmue II entirely succeeds in capturing the vibrant life and mesmerizing beauty of the destitute and decayed urban agglomeration, in a way that it was deemed entirely impossible at the time of its release.

For reasons entirely related to per post content limitations imposed by Tumblr, this article will be continued in PART II.

#china #hong kong #kowloon #kowloon walled city #videogames #Kyu-Ryu-Tou #riot city #saga frontier #kowloon's gate #shenmue ii

369 notes · View notes

dailyadventureprompts · 2 years

Note

Hello! I've been batting around an idea for a warlock of the undead whose patron is an eldritch Far Realm entity, but haven't been able to find much in the way of official lore for the plane. I would love to hear your take on the subject, if you had any ideas for the landscape and inhabitants and such!

Planescape: The Far Dead Realm(s)

So for those not in the know, the far realm is the d&d cosmology's designated corner for lovecraftian shenanigans, being the default origin of most aberrations as well as anything particularly "madness" related or stuff too weird to fit into the morality based system of planes.

I'm not a big fan of the far ream ( insert joke about me being too weird to fit into the morality based system of planes) because it makes the entry level cosmic-horror fan mistake of conflating tentacles with the unfathomable and paints things beyond human perception as innately hostile and entropic.

To me, the astral sea is the place where all that far-realm weirdness should live, being that its the place where thoughts become physical heedless of any physical constraint. There’d naturally be alien environments that were hostile to life native to the material plane, either in that they were unsuited to conventional biology, or operated on a different set of physics/math/coherence to more traditional reality. That said, it does serve our storymaking to have a bad place from whence things can come from/be banished to, so for that end I'll let you in on my own version of the unknowable plane: The Dead Realms

TLDR: The dead realms are a cosmic junk heap, myriad realities that have become unstable or suffered through an irreparable apocalypse and have inturn scoured or abandoned of mortal life and the gods that oversee them. Seeking to avoid further disruption of the cosmos, the great entities which govern the astral sea quarantine the dead realms in their own fold of space. Cross contamination renders the plane into a simmering cauldron of chaotic energies, as civilization plagues and reality storms crash against eachother with the tomb-prions of world eating gods as backdrop. Any breach of the realms’ containment could lead to potential doom, as anything that can survive the end of multiple worlds is likely more than capable of ending a few on its own.

Ironically, the reason that the asker can’t find lore about the far realm is that its on purpose, and that’s sorta the problem: The far realm was written to be intentionally vague, hearkening to unseen and unknowable horrors of the lovecraft mythos. The problem with that is that as part of the greater dnd multiverse ( atleast the default one) the far realm is a place you theoretically CAN go, and given that some of the game’s biggest baddies originate there, meaning that there needs to be more about the plane than a simple gesture at it being gross and full of tentacles.

Compare the thematic weight of a party visiting the far and dead realm(s): The former is weird, surely, but other than horrifying chaos, the far realm doesn’t really say anything. On the contrary, both heroes and their players can understand the dead realms as a forewarning of what happens if they fail in their cosmic level responsibilities, and see echoes of their own desperate struggles among the ruins.

Geography: The process of transposing multiple worlds into a single plane is not a gentle one, even more so when many of those worlds do not share an underlying model of reality. The cracked remnants of planetary bodies float together like asteroid clusters, while flat-earth geographies impose themselves on space at awkward angles like planes of glass, or weave through it like ribbons of a shredded map. Remnant kingdoms are scorched as newly arrived worlds bring their stars with them, and blighted seas spill from one celestial body to the next like wine spilled across a table from a tipped glass.

Its junk drawer architecture, a dumpster into which broken worlds are heaved with no care for their condition or where they might come to rest, slowly ruining eachother like kitchen scraps heaped upon old clothes layered over discarded furniture

Inhabitants: Despite their name the dead realms are not empty, besides the monstrous scavengers Vast wastelands conceal remnant holdouts and the decaying lairs of senile god kings. Only those great authorities of the cosmos decide when a realm is beyond saving, and those left behind on it are considered forfeit to save the greater cosmos from the horrors they endure. That said, there are other entities that live in the maelstrom, and they are far more threat to a wandering party that’ve become stranded in the forbidden realm:

Kaotori*: Once a group of arcane explorers who sought salvage and secrets from the oldest reaches of the dead realms, they were lost in the depths where time itself had begun to rot. They trickled back one by one, transmuted into resin soaked horrors and scattered across the centuries both before and after they left. Stripped of all but a few scraps of their previous identities, the remnants of their former lives knaw at them like the ache of a rotten tooth, which the Kaotori are desperate to extract. Turning their wicked power to the task, each Kaotori combs the cosmos for any trace of its former life, looking to extinguish the source of these memories that it might finally know some twisted form of peace.

Eldrazi*:Like beetles skittering over and through a fallen log until it is mulch, the aberrant broods known as the Eldrazi toil endlessly to return the material of dead worlds back into raw stuff of creation, dismantling matter, magic, and creature alike until all they touch is cosmic dust. Mostly harmless if left at a distance, Eldrazi do not distinguish intruders into their domain from unprocessed worldstuff and their domain extends ever forward so long as their is material to reclaim.

Ancient automata: The engines of forgotten ages still stir on many abandoned worlds, whether they be crystaline consiousness of superhuman intellect or the derlict mechanisms of a single tinkerer

Feral Celestials: while many angels are content to wander from task to task, there are those so dedicated to their divinely ordained mission that they choose to go “down with the ship” when the time comes to ring in the apocalypse. After their particular endtimes have come and gone, these entities slowly begin to waste away, being reduced over time to becoming avatars of strange faiths, or hunting through the wilderness little better than beasts.

Outergods: Whether they reign over a destroyed worlds, were imprisoned within one, or maybe just like the vibe, the dead realms are full of outergods, which make up the only pantheon for those desperate souls stranded in the expanse. Kronos the cannibal god reigns over lands of dust and ruin, Cezil’Tek holds entire worlds in still and silent loneliness, While Shub-Nuggurath and her brood flourish in toxic swamps and fleshy jungles, just to name a few

* You can find 3rd party stats for these creatures online,

Adventure Hooks:

After falling trough an unstable portal or getting lost fucking around with teleportation, the party find themselves stranded in the dead realms, specifically in a barren desert landscape with a half-buried city built into some wind-scarred cliffs their only landmark. Far off in the distance, amid an alien sky, they can see a massive purple-green cloud approaching, which is in fact a rogue ocean displaced from its original bed that will come crashing down on their desert world in a matter of days. With time running short and an entire city’s worth of secrets to distract them, the party must comb through the ruins for a means of returning home lest they drown along with the desert world.

Following scraps of planear lore and desperate to protect their home from an otherworldy threat, a party of spelljammers must slip past the watch of the celestial authority to salvage pieces of a planetary warding system. This system allowed another world to stave off the threat in the past, but didn't’ stop its original architects from falling prey to the whiles of an outer god and leading their world to doom from within. Now situated among the junk drifts of the dead realms, this fallen world is slowly being eaten away by eldrazi as the last zealots of the outergod look for cruel and desperate ways to stem the tide.

Monstrous aberrations comb the countryside, attacking villages, searching for something, pushing the party into cooperation with a goodnatured wizard who was exiled from the circle of mages for his curiosity about forbidden magic. During a moment of heroic sacrifice, the wizard inadvertantly opens a rift to the dead realms and ends up falling through, becoming lost in time and space and eventully transformed into a kaotri... the very same kaotri that has spent centuries combing through the multiverse looking for this particular kingdom. Warped irrevocably and wracked by the pangs of a now recursive present, this Kaotri now seeks to wipe its once home off the map, and just use that recently opened dead-realm portal to do it.

Art

394 notes · View notes

power-chords · 7 months

Text

Speaking of shit that is further contributing to my existential unraveling: I have seen tweets protesting comparisons to the Holocaust on the basis of the gas chambers. It is correct that the extermination of European Jewry via the industrial architecture of the death camps is an atrocity that stands alone, to which nothing else ought rightly be compared. But the implicit basis of these objections is not the uniquely horrific and unprecedented technology of death that was applied in this instance; rather, it is that the Nazis were uniquely evil and the Germans as a people uniquely hateful toward Jews. That what the Nazis accomplished as a political body is not something that could ever be reproduced under analogous twisted logic by any other country, because they were monstrous historical aberrations and not ordinary people party to a "modern," "civilized" capitalist bureaucracy not that far removed from any other. I cannot conceive of any line of thinking more insidious and more dangerous. Auschwitz's horror was unprecedented, but the circumstances that led to it were not: a combination of fear, hatred, humiliation, ethnonationalism, state propaganda, a dehumanized Other, and the machines of war. I am literally begging you all to read Raul Hilberg.

51 notes · View notes

anomanderr · 7 days

Text

Under Fey Stars

Astarion meets a strange eladrin who evokes even stranger feelings in him.

The nautiloid shook and careened to one side, Astarion felt himself lift off the ground, managing to catch at a pillar to keep himself from being dashed against the walls. He had to get out and quickly. As he raced through strange, chitinous halls filled with grotesque architecture that pulsed eerily like flesh, he heard a voice, “Kin! Cousin! By Titania’s light hear me!” He turned to look at one of the many pods lining the walls and found what appeared to be an eladrin. Dark of skin and with silver curls, ears longer and sharper than his own, it was striking figure. Silvery swirls spread along one side of its slender face, careening out from its left eye. Its eyes were uniform pools of liquid amber— no pupils to be found.

“Ah, what a wonderful vision of freedom you are, my kin. Release me and let us be off this monstrous vessel of aberration-make!” it said, looking at Astarion with those large, trusting eyes. In a moment his decision was made and he found himself hefting open the lid of the pod, to his own surprise. Perhaps it was those trusting eyes, perhaps it was the earnestness with which it called him kin. But he soon found an eladrin of autumn slumping into his arms. Those eyes suddenly widened as they bore into his own. “I am Tavir, and you are?”

“Astarion, but we do not have time for pleasantries, get up! And run!” He growled, half dragging the eladrin as he broke into a run towards the blasted walls of the nautiloid. Outside, the acrid, burning landscape of the Hells rushed past as red dragons spat fire at the vessel.

————————————————————————

The flames of their camp lit the silver swirls on Tav’s skin and his amber eyes seemed to glow as they gazed placidly at the leaping flames. He held a book open in front of him, borrowed from Gale, but he seemed lost in the heart of the flames. It came as a surprise then, when Astarion whispered in his ear, “What is my fey friend doing?”

Tav’s amber eyes remained enraptured by the flames as he said, “Contemplating the end of eternity.” A decidedly morbid thing to say for a fey. Perhaps the dire situation was getting to him after all, no matter how carefree he seemed otherwise. Thoughts of doom aside, he had seen the eladrin’s stolen glances; those eyes were hard to miss when they were searching for his face.

“Would you like me to steal you away from camp? A night under the stars with your beautiful body under mine would be a pleasant break from slumming it with these fools, no?” Perhaps a bit too direct, but he’d never seen Tavir mince words before and he liked to think he was a good judge of character with over two centuries of “conquests” as proof of the fact.

Golden eyes bored into crimson ones as Tav smiled quietly, almost knowingly but Astarion saw what he always sees in the eyes of his marks— hunger.

“I was wondering when you might ask me this, I would much rather spend the night gazing into those eyes and that face, yes.”And that was all he needed to guide Tav by the hand into the woods; from the Feywild or from the Outer City, they all hungered for him just the same.

Soon, Astarion found himself naked and against an equally undressed Tav — not that the eladrin ever wore anything more than the barest wisp of clothing at any time — with them pressed against a tree. Tav eagerly opened up under Astarion’s tongue, granting entrance and moaning against his mouth as he did so. The eladrin’s lips were deliciously warm and smooth. Astarion could feel fey blood calling to him. Tav’s hands clutched at Astarion’s locks as he pressed himself against him, their erections straining against each other in blissful friction. If only Astarion could somehow tell him what he was, as he pleasured Tav perhaps, he might acquiesce and allow Astarion to taste him. He’d never tried to feed on a person before but perhaps a mind clouded with pleasure wouldn’t register what he was saying until it was too late? Just as he was about to get on his knees, Tav broke their kiss and looked at Astarion with those eyes. Flush with passion, desire and... sympathy? Astarion had never liked how Tav seemed to know exactly what he wanted, how he never asked for more than what he wanted to divulge. Those eyes were always too knowing and now they seemed to plumb his depths. As suddenly as their kiss broke, Astarion found himself falling into those eyes, falling down an endless, amber chasm. Those eyes seemed to grow, enveloping him until there was nothing to the world but that liquid, amber pool. And out of that sea of gold emerged bliss. A warmth spread from his unbeating heart to the tips of his fingers, to the very tip of his quivering cock. Waves of pleasure burned through his nerves; pleasure the likes of which he’d never conceived. It was like every fibre of his being thrummed in response to those eyes. A thousand kisses peppered across his body, soft caresses from unseen hands left him shuddering. He could taste blood, sweet and almost cloying in his mouth. He drank it in desperate gulps as moans of pleasure escaped him. Every nerve in his body screamed in pleasure, such warmth surged within him that he could almost believe he was alive.

Heat rose within him as he neared his climax and the golden light that obscured his vision faded away, taking with it the exquisite pleasure thrumming within him. As a growl of protest rose in his throat he felt a warm wetness envelope his cock and looked down to find Tav on his knees, those fine lips wrapped around his cock and those amber eyes looking at him hungrily.

Tav’s tongue glided along Astarion’s length, pressing and twirling against the head as he swallowed him whole. The inexplicable pleasures of before, combined with the hot walls of Tav’s throat had Astarion whimpering and thrusting himself desperately into the eladrin’s mouth. Tav teased one of Astarion’s nipples with a hand, eliciting soft moans from him, while the other gripped the vampire’s hip. Chiseled like alabaster and as pale in the moonlight, his hips thrust with increasing urgency. Astarion’s hand clutched Tav’s tight, silvery curls as he breathed out, “Tavir... I’m close!”

The eladrin only seemed to enthusiastically redouble his efforts, his hands gently cupping Astarion’s balls. Astarion’s climax crashed through him as he slammed himself into the warmth of Tav’s mouth. He could still feel the phantom taste of that sweet blood and it only heightened his climax as he emptied himself into the eladrin’s mouth, who seemed to be enthusiastically drinking every drop.

With a few final kisses to the head of Astarion’s cock, a tongue along his foreskin and little playful bite, Tav cleaned up the pale elf and sat up to look at Astarion. The eladrin’s lips glistened with the vampire’s seed, quickly licked away and consumed with a seductive look at the elf. Astarion laid down on the ground and Tav lay his slender self on Astarion’s broad chest, gazing at the stars in the sky, seemingly already lost in thought. Having caught his breath somewhat and the fog of lust lifted, Astarion was still utterly confused as to what had happened. Sex was not something he enjoyed, he’d not for a long time now. He had expected the same routine, the same feelings of disgust and the same anger at his victim for not seeing him for what he was. If only they would see, if only they would run. Cazador would punish him of course, but something deep inside him would rather face Godey’s lashes and needles than be soiled in innocent blood.

Tonight had been different, between the fey’s hungry and knowing eyes and the visions that had gripped him, he did not know who was the hunter and the hunted. Was Tavir an Enchanter? Come to think of it, he’d never seen the eladrin hold weapons or even conjure as much as a bolt of fire. He’d simply looked at one of the goblins outside the Grove and the creature had dropped to the ground twitching. Between the demands of battle and Laezel’s love for beheading enemies he hadn’t been able to see what exactly Tav did to their enemies; except that he would wade into their midst and they’d always fall seemingly unharmed to then most likely die to Laezel’s blade or his own arrows. He never gave that a second thought, he knew little of magic. But perhaps he should have, he’d heard of fey like Tav, beguilers who wrapped mortals who wandered into the Feywild in visions and fancies so beautiful they failed to eat or drink or sleep.

The blood... good gods the blood he’d tasted; that it was not real was clear to him now. It would only make sense to conjure that if Tav knew. His breath must have caught for Tav turned to rest his chin on Astarion’s chest, those amber eyes catching crimson ones, “I know, calm down. I knew the moment you touched me on the nautiloid. I may be as oblivious of anything outside my own head as any fey but I am still eladrin” he said, smiling and turning away, resting his face on Astarion’s chest to gaze at the stars again. “Do you have a death wish?” Asked Astarion, not too kindly. He’d resented his fey kin for two hundred years now. They lived in their little realm, oblivious to the plight of their kin in the Prime. He’d imagined what it would be like to slip into the Feywild, on nights when Cazador had been particularly cruel, nights when he’d been delirious from the pain and crying out to the Seldarine. A realm of beauty, watched over by a golden queen whose mere gaze was said to fill creatures with utter bliss. Alas, he’d been no true fey and none of the Seldarine, it had seemed, would stop their frolicking to help one wayward child of theirs. This eladrin had had everything and had thrown it all away to enter the Material and now flirts with danger like it is a game. Amber eyes caught his own again, there was something inscrutable about eyes with no pupils, pulsing slowly to the rhythm of the eladrin’s heart. There was something ancient there, something sad, a strange void behind that gaze. He knew nothing ever truly changed in the chaos of the Feywild and that the eladrin were almost eternal, as eternal as he himself was, which made it all the more stupid for this one to leave the Feywild. Just as he was contemplating saying something to fill the silence, Tav spoke, “Would you like to taste real blood? I have never tasted it or meat for that matter. I can’t imagine I conjured anything close to the real substance.”

“So you do wish to die. Or is this some trick? I will not be pulled into some little fey prank. You call me kin, you wrap me up in enchantment and now offer your neck?” Astarion pushed himself away and sat up, whatever this was, Tav knew too much, was being much too familiar and nonchalant for it to be genuine. Even if it was a genuine offer, what sort of madman offered his neck to a vampire? A vampire who clearly seduced him into the woods to have his way with him.

“I offer it because I can see you want it. I have never been hurt before or even seen my own blood so perhaps you should take this chance before your reaction makes me imagine the worst about the pain I might feel and decide otherwise” said Tav, and pulled the gauzy silk drape of his off the forest floor and onto his shoulder for warmth. Astarion was baffled, well and truly caught off guard for the first time in two centuries. Here was a person who had not only known for days that he was a vampire but was now willingly offering him his neck. Those eyes were too honest, his behaviour too casual for this to be a trick. If it was a trick, Tav was certainly a far better liar than Astarion could ever hope to be.

Sidling close to him, Astarion looked at Tav’s neck, the deep brown, almost reddish skin glistening in the moonlight under a fine sheen of perspiration. It would be easy to assume that Tav was some kind of drow if not for those eyes and the silvery markings that every elf would know to be from exposure to the wild magics of the Feywild.

“Do you mean it?” Astarion asked, despite himself. He should be taking what was offered without question, he knew. But something in him, something about Tav perhaps, made him hesitate.

“Of course I mean it, if I did not mean I would not have said it. What do you take me for? An Unseelie?” came the reply, from a seemingly miffed Tav. Astarion silently moved closer, his breathing deepening as he smelled the eladrin’s blood just beneath the skin. He nuzzled Tav’s neck, held his head with a hand and sank his fangs into flesh. Tav gasped and reached for Astarion’s other hand, holding it in a vice-like grip as he squeezed his eyes shut. The blood that flowed into Astarion’s mouth was infinitely more delectable than that conjured fantasy, it sang inside him and he fancied he could almost taste the forests of the Feywild in it.

Astarion drank like a man parched for a tenday, letting the sweet nectar of eladrin blood sing to him and his thirst to control him. His first taste of sentient blood would have ended in death if not for the feel of Tav’s hand growing slack in his own. There had been no resistance even as his life’s blood was being drained away. Did he actually have a death wish? But no, it was not a death wish, realised Astarion, it was trust. The hand that gripped him earnestly desired support, out of a desire for him to be sated, Tav had offered his neck. Perhaps in return for his kindness on the nautiloid or perhaps it was true that Tav had never felt pain and thought it worth a new experience of something bad so his companion could be sated. Whatever it was, Astarion knew, Tav had trusted him and he would not betray that trust. With that thought, the red haze of his thirst lifted and he gently released Tav’s neck, lifting his fangs from the wounds he’d made.

Astarion could not tell if those solid amber eyes were disoriented from the blood loss. Tav reached out with a finger and wiped the blood dripping down the corner of Astarion’s mouth, licking the blood off his finger. “It seems I bleed as red as the rest of you and don’t taste half as good as I imagined” he said, making a face. “Trust me, darling, you were utterly delectable” said Astarion, baring his bloodied fangs in a grin. Astarion almost jumped out of his skin when Tav slumped against him, arms around his neck. “Are you... alright?” Astarion asked awkwardly, bracing himself against the ground with both his arms. “Mmhmm” came the reply, hummed against his throat. Astarion swallowed nervously and said, “You were my first... the first I’ve tasted.”

“Well, I hope it was everything you dreamed it would be. For my part, pain was not as bad as I thought it would be, perhaps I’ll let you do this again”, came the slurred reply.

“I think we better get you to your tent before you drool all over me, darling. And pain, in my experience, comes in degrees” he said, managing to recapture at least some of his poise.

“A moment... let me recover. Unless you’d like to act out your childhood fantasies and carry me in your arms like a damsel in distress?” Tav asked, still mumbling against Astarion’s neck. Astarion sighed, “A lifetime of fairytales failed me on that ship when I heard you calling to me.”

“I think we both know the kind of fairytales you’re most familiar with, Astarion, and those are not ones where eladrin make an appearance”, said Tav. He felt Astarion stiffen against him. Tav sighed and got up, seemingly regretting his casual barb. It had stung but the fact that Tav seemed to know more about his past than he’d told him gnawed at him. Unsteady on his feet but managing to hold onto the tree nearby, Tav turned towards their camp. “Do not presume to know me, faerie”, Astarion said darkly as he picked himself up and gathered his clothes.

“And that tells me I was right, little bat.” The words were a sultry whisper in Astarion’s mind as he watched Tav’s naked form walk toward camp, his gauzy wrap fluttering in the wind from round his shoulders.

Over two centuries and not once had anyone prioritised Astarion’s pleasure; he was doubtful if they had even thought of anything other than taking their own pleasure from his body. Here he was now, having been served in more ways than one, giving nothing in return, it would seem, than the pleasure of his company.

No, Astarion did not like this eladrin one bit and yet as he walked back to camp behind Tav, watching that deep brown butt swaying from side to side, he couldn’t help but smile, as wide a smile as he’d ever worn in over two centuries of life.

-————————————————————————

The next morning, Astarion soon realised that no good thing that happened to him could ever be just that; a good thing. With the rising sun, the eladrin’s silvery swirls sparkled as they usually did but with the addition of two prominent puncture wounds in his neck, sparkling silver. Not a pair of eyes in camp that wasn’t drawn to those wounds and Astarion knew he would have to come clean that day. Gale was already eyeing him suspiciously, knowingly. Blasted wizard, forever taking note of things he shouldn’t.

He met Tav’s eyes over the dying camp fire and heard his voice in his head, “Perhaps we should tell them? Lest they should think I’ve grown overly fond of the stirges in these forests.” Tav was smiling quietly, almost mischievously.

Astarion sighed again. He did not, in fact, like this eladrin one bit.

***

#bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 oc #astarion #dnd5e #dnd #dnd oc #dnd fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fandom #gay men #gay fantasy #gay fanfiction #mxm

10 notes · View notes

cubesnap · 3 months

Note

hey there! hope you're doing well :) your art is super delicious, i love all the bright colors. out of curiosity, what's your aberration au?

Ahhhhguhgh!! Thank you Anon!! :]]

Also about my RW Aberration Au, it's essentially an alternate world/universe of the original Rain World where rather than reawakening back into the Great Cycle after death, you only live once, being trapped within the cycle even after their demise. The whole AU is really just a world building playground for me to play around with off-string iterators and write regions concepts, creature ideas, and other lore stuff. Here is the (6th, probably 7th time I've revised) timeline of RWA. The world's setting (including its architecture and other structures built) are much more futuristic than what you see in Rain World, possessing flora that have adapted to RWA's acidic rains over eons.

There is a very very VERY high possibility of me just rewriting this again since I made this awhile back so.. Oops-

For Isle Iterators, they're really just futuristic versions of Iterators. Here's more information about them below

I've started RWA back in July, 29, 2023 where me and my friend were talking about Saint's ending and thought of making an AU post-Saint. As of right now, the full document has been rewritten about 3 to 5 times, totaling up to 300k+ words.

Also sorry for not answering asks for a while, something happened a couple of days ago and it's making me really anxious of looking into my inbox :') /negative. (I'll still try my best to answer them all, it'll just take longer than usual).

#rain world #rain world au #parallel.txt #Thank you for asking anon!! :]

9 notes · View notes

melusine0811 · 6 months

Text

"The Space Between the Stars" ch. 21

"Fata Morgana"

Read it here.

"Sakura has all of a sudden had enough of slow, and she steps back, pulling Lis up, kissing her breathless, sliding the last scrap of Lis’s clothing so that it drops from her hips. Lis turns her, and then guides her backwards, Sakura falling onto the bed, scooting into the middle.

Lis lays her bare body on top of her, skin finally connecting with full skin. They both intake air sharply as the almost mythological feeling of home slides from their heads to their toes, unfurling out through their limbs like flame. Lis takes her hands, lacing their fingers together, digits moving slowly so that they’re sliding between one another, brushing the tip of her nose across Sakura’s cheek, then bringing Sakura’s hand to her mouth and kissing her knuckles, tenderly kissing her palm before returning to her face, finding lips already parted and waiting, breath hot, liquifying both of them.

Lis feels her soul pulse and light up as though it were manifested as having a physical body, now coughing and sputtering after being pulled out of the earth, roots shaken, removing the tangled dark that had been surrounding them. Because Sakura is the only person who can differentiate between her flesh and her soul, like being pulled through a mirror, shattering everything she had once known about herself. She’s the only person who’s completely fluent in the gasping, stuttering syntax of her being.

Both she and Sakura want this to go slow, savoring each second.

But it’s not possible, not when they’re trembling like this, breaths short and wobbly. And not when Lis draws back, and Sakura looks up at her, eyes full of tears again, she touches Lis’s face with her shaking hand, and she sinks her hand into the back of Lis’s hair, arching into a kiss that has Lis keening into oblivion.

They kiss deeply, hips driving into one another.

And the night collapses around them as they move as one, unable to hold its architecture in the force of their passion. The past twenty five years had been a black hole, complete with all of its depravity, but now they’re absorbing Andromeda as Venus and Sappho smile with Astraea as the two of them climb to the stars, pulling them back together, strings of vowels from drowned lips hitting the walls as their own come down.

Lis just kisses her more deeply, both of their lower torsos beginning to map out a sensual dance as everything is blurred across their vision, but the image of the other woman is crystal clear, the aberrant demons tangled around them finally losing their grip as they spiritually spin with their arms outstretched, rewriting their own etymology that whatever is left of this life, it will be them."

#elisabet x sakura #sakubet #seyloy #aloy x seyka #elisabet sobeck #sakura sobeck #horizon forbidden west #the space between the stars #chapter 21 is up #please share

19 notes · View notes

vilsoo · 2 years

Text

MOONLIGHT SONATA⌇PRINCE!WILLIAM AFTON

wc. 4,660+

tags. royalty au, infidelity, eventual smut, corruption kink, cunnilingus on piano, loss of virginity, gentle dom!william, afab!reader, aftercare.

summary. with everyone wondering why the prince didn’t show up at his own grand ball, you sneak away from the party and venture the halls of the afton’s beautiful estate. discovering a grand piano in the study room, the rich tones you play impresses the prince nearby. little did he know your attraction alone would bewitch the mysterious man.

“Has anyone seen His Highness Prince William? My goodness, there is an extraordinary long queue of ladies who are to dance with him!”

“How outrageous! The host himself doesn’t even bother to show up at his own party! Such aberrant behavior of our beloved prince.”

“Oh, please calm down! Perhaps the prince isn’t feeling well and stayed back in his chambers. Either that, or he has no desire to dance tonight.”

“How dare he?! He is to dance with me tonight!”

Left alone on the balcony with an aloof attitude, you were deeply raptured by the orchestra's vibrations and whimsical notes that hung in the air, attaching strings of gold onto the joints of the grandeur to waltz in perfect harmony. You watch as they swirl on the dance floor like ocean currents, dancing in beautiful rhythm and sync. Gracious ballgowns billowing and twirling beneath; ever so graceful, ever so astonishing. If only you could fit better into its magical atmosphere if the noisy complaints from nearby duchesses, marchionesses, viscountesses, patronesses, and other fair ladies would be taken elsewhere and not near you.

Prince William Afton… Every hopeless lady in the kingdom swoon over him and his charms. He is overly admired for his power, his features, and his riches. One tiny interaction with these ladies and they’re undoubtedly charmed. Undeniably falling for him and then believe in a chance with the prince. That’s why many of them had been arguing for a dance and for his hand in marriage tonight.

He is one fine prince, you admit. But you wouldn’t bother seeking for his approval or fighting for a dance with him. You already had a suitor to marry later this year. Your suitor was a fair, charismatic baron who would pass by on the weekends and spend time with you and your family. The dynamic between you two, however, was not a romantic, loving one as you would daydream or expect of. He was a very shallow man that you’re marrying to gain income. Not the love or passion you desired. You would constantly hold back your ill opinion of him in order to save the relationship.

Deep down, you were rid of your happiness and emotional stability. Your suitor didn’t even bother to show up at this party you invited him to. So you came alone tonight. But it didn’t matter at all. You didn’t even care since you were in need of a getaway from all the chaos with him. He’s the type of man that’s not delighted by huge gatherings, anyway.

Still impassive and unamused, you decided to sneak away from the party and linger about the luxurious halls. All you wanted to do was get away from everyone, find some kind of escape. But as you were venturing, you were suddenly mesmerized by what lies before you.

The Afton Estate was magnificently polished in glimmering gold with intricately painted ceilings, enormous mirrors, glimmering crystal chandeliers and other impeccable decorations and fashionable furniture. It lies a masterful display of Renaissance-style architecture and horticulture you’ve never seen before. Venturing this polished marble fortress alone has never felt so liberating and compelling, especially being withdrawn from the vicinity and into the quiet.

There was no sign of anyone nearby. It felt to you as if the ballroom was miles away, the music and the loud vicinity already fading out. The more you roamed about these halls, assuming you were lost, you find yourself in a broad study room with a fireplace, mahogany desks, clean couches, varnished brown bookshelves, and the wide bay windows with the view of the dark castle gardens. In the middle of the glazed windows was something you were mysteriously intrigued by.

A grand piano.

You loved playing piano.

You sauntered forward like a moth drawing to light, scrutinizing its laminated shiny black iron and carbon steel with intricate piano strings. Such wealth of the Afton’s! You’ve always wanted to lay your fingers on a monochrome grand piano you were so fascinated by. Back home, you had a traditional wooden piano but a couple of its keys were out of tune. The Afton’s piano appeared glossy, the keys playing its own divine tunes when your fingertips glide over its enticing texture. Caressing them softly with ample force, like a witch delicately casting a magic spell with her fingers.

You sat without reluctance, curving your hands and positioning to the correct scales to play a piece you love the most; Moonlight Sonata. A song that makes you feel like you’re floating, or drifting softly on relaxing waters of the ocean. A song creating a unique atmosphere that mesmerizes those who hear it, but are unbeknownst of the somber and heartbroken feeling the player represses. You press the sustain petal down, letting its rich harmonies overlap and fade into each other. As you play through movements for what feels like forever, the sweetness of the graceful sounds flow like honey through your veins and tickle your ears, sending shivers of peace into your soul. You shut your eyes and let your fingers dance among the ivory.

Even though you believed you were alone at this very moment, you have never felt so accompanied and understood by the piano. You felt alive, you felt the inner peace you’ve been desperate for. You felt like you were floating in a cacophony of exquisite harmonies. An emptiness finally being fulfilled…

“You play very well.”

A sultry, rich voice from nearby startled you, halting your movements and hastily flinging your eyes open at a man ambling closer. One glance at his piercing gaze and it shot through you like a bullet ricocheting. Making out his genuine, relaxed smile that was as cold as the steel piano. Such fair skin under the moonlight that contrasted the crispness of his fine suit, embroidered and twinkling with lace. The more he kept his eyes on you, the more your skin prickled. It was as if he was perusing every assumption about you. Every nudge about who you were. But when you finally recognized his face, you gasped and shot up from the seat.

“Your highness!” You sputtered, jolting up from the piano bench to curtsy before him. “You must please forgive me for trespassing! I am aware that no guests aren’t allowed past here and will be on my way—”

The prince holds his hand up. “No need for that at all. In fact I do not hold anything against you for playing one of the most beautiful pieces I’ve heard on my piano.”

The warm and oddly comforting tone of his voice reverberated in the back of your head, like dipping into radiant velvet and cream. Your body felt like it was caving in on you, striking erratically and so suddenly you weren’t in control of holding your own guard. Receiving such sudden approval from the prince and slowly drawing into his charm, like a venomous spider furtively caressing your skin. You weren’t supposed be here. You weren’t supposed to be acknowledged from anyone, not even his highness. You could run away as far as you can from the exit unblocked. But you couldn’t leave; you couldn’t force yourself to inch away from the captivating prince. And even if William gave many opportunities for you to escape his presence, you couldn’t.

The prince ambles closer, the gap between you growing smaller. You struggled holding eye contact with the captivating man, gazing down at the floor while fidgeting with your fingers. Your heart was racing like wildfire. Was it the guilt for admiring another man aside your suitor? Or was it the consolation after complimenting your practice?

“You shouldn’t feel ashamed from receiving my gratitude,” assures the prince. “I was watching you back there. Those wistful expressions you made, the somber melodies that so captivated me… My piano became the remedy you were in need of. Is that true, my lady?”

You nodded weakly, your body immediately seizing from a look into his gaze once again. “It… It is, my lord,” you mutter as your left hand rests on the piano’s rim. “And I am truly and deeply honored of your compliments.”

But I know I shouldn’t be here... I should be on my way, you thought to yourself.

Prince William slants his head coquettishly, lifting his hand for it to also rest near yours. “May I request for you to play for me again then? I’d love hear your piece up close.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, sulking in silence from his soothing voice and his gentleness embracing you with sheer darkness and chills of the starry nights. A prince with such power and authority flowing the kingdom like poetry, swooning those around him like magic— simply asking for you to play your piece. It also occurred to you that he would rather listen to you, watch you play, than make an appearance down at the party.

". . . As you wish, my lord," you finally complied, feeling your pulse pounding while his hand inches closer till his fingertips brushes yours.

"I also would like to join you in a duet later on. You can hear me play as well," says the prince, smiling softly when his finger overlaps yours.

"Oh— oh, of course. I'm delighted to hear your talents as well." You bashfully mirror his smile, sliding your hand away to sit down at the edge. "But if I may ask, my prince; were you on your way to make your entrance at your party? Everyone has been wondering your whereabouts."

Prince William sits beside you and scoffed lightly. “I was not. I had no intentions introducing myself out there tonight because I don’t feel like it. But while I do enjoy conversing and hosting social gatherings at my residence, there are times when I am disinclined to present myself. Every fair lady in this country has came tonight to present themselves as my possible suitor. But I have no desire for marriage as of right now. Nor to witness any of these ladies fighting over my hand for a dance.”

A slow nod you gave to the prince, feeling deeply empathetic for him possessing no desire for marriage. The thundering of your heart in your chest seemed to calm itself after hearing him mysteriously open up to you. You were nobody to him. Just a guest at his party. Perhaps the prince was in need of someone understanding him, just like you were in need of something understanding you. For instance, this beautiful grand piano.

“Well. Since you’ve decided to not be on your way, I shall provide the piece you have requested. I’ll keep you company tonight, my prince.”

“Be my guest,” he gestured kindly.

The prince watches your fingertips delicately press on the keys, the rich tunes more soft and low. A beseeching melody, a melody of waltz and tranquility that enlightened him, just like before when he was down the hall. He was left with a void just like you; a hopeless, hazy sky that begun to slowly brighten with your rays pouring onto him. While you played, he studied into you more. Wan moonlight tracing your unique features, falling softly on your eyes and illuminating your skin. That longing expression he noticed before appeared once again, bled silver by the pale starlight. He imagined you were seeking communion with this faithful rhythm.

A communion. A rapport, rather. Mysteriously intrigued, he positioned his piano on the lower octaves and began to play as delicate. You gave a small glance at him with a beam, also impressed of what he bestowed. With the atmosphere you created, it allowed a venue for the prince’s heart to pour all emotions onto the piano. But it seems he knew how to manipulate these keys, conducting certain emotions to impress you. You were enticed deep down. Taking in his oddly addicting dark warm aroma of other earthiness and intensity. What was that strange feeling that shot down you just now? Was it the way he glanced at you? His compelling royal presence sitting so close to you? The way he couldn’t keep his eyes off you while playing?

Suddenly you couldn’t restrain yourself. Your heart was beating erratically once again like a drum, eyes dancing around from struggling to settle your gaze on the prince. His eyes allured praises and sensuousness, conquering the art of having you wrapped around his finger by not uttering a single word. It’s as if he knows what he’s doing to you, and you know you shouldn’t be falling for his dangerous and ominous flaunts. But you couldn’t help but indulge this inexplicable feeling deep down. Your eyes were all that he focused on and it felt like the world vanished around you. You couldn’t breathe in air. You couldn’t feel ground. You only felt his gaze. His air, his ground…

His quiet composure managed to penetrate your thoughts. Penetrate your vulnerability. Watching each other for so long, your needs and urges growing stronger like a restless, forbidden hunger. A forbidden lust. The way his hand overlapped yours earlier and the dark gazes tell you that there are parts of you that were unfamiliar to him. Parts of you that he would like to acquaint. With a sultry essence the piano seemed to stir, you felt your mind serenaded with lustful passages, littering your innocence and purity with filth. Lost and saturated with vivid insights, raging with passion. A passion to lay his hands on you and not just on this piano…

“You have a suitor you’re bound to marry, don’t you? A suitor that made your life full of discontent. Full of misery,” Prince William mutters, immediately strung by the sultry in his voice. But once it registered in your brain, you gasped, hastily standing on your feet.

“My— My life with my suitor is none of your business!” you stammered, almost turning away from him. “I’m afraid I cannot stay here longer. I shouldn’t be here. We shouldn’t be alone together here—“

It took one soft grip of his silk-gloved hand holding yours before you could run free. A gentle touch that electrified every nerve in your body. And for awhile, it felt like this the longer you allowed him to hold you. Prince William slowly stood up with your hand still in his grip, realizing you couldn’t bring yourself to let it go. What started to be a means for your mental escape was now something you couldn’t escape from. You couldn’t face him, you couldn’t utter a single sound. Instead you let him inch closer and closer, feeling his breath subtly hitting the back of your ear. He dared not to touch any other part of you other than your hand that he switched over to his left. Your left hand meeting his left, fingers caressing yours that he so wanted to interlock with.

“My poor dear,” the prince consoled, tilting his head. "Keeping a man that doesn't know how to treat a lady like you well."

It was a tormenting battle to face— you had your instincts shouting at you to make a move and run, but your body kept faltering. You knew everything about this was wrong. You knew the consequences would leave you more miserable if things were to escalate more. But the prince’s touches were… irresistible. Everything that was ever wrong about this has never… never felt this good to you.

“Wouldn't you like to forget about that man? Allow me to fulfill that passion you’ve longed for?" he taunted, the husk in his voice filling your ears.

There was nothing more tortuous than being plagued with guilt and desire tonight. However, that guilt already left long ago when the prince found you. A prince that is well known for seducing women as a masterful art. Acknowledging the future scenarios, you already knew what was bound to happen with him; a one-sided affair. After being neglected so long by your suitor, perhaps it wouldn't mean anything to him if he didn’t find out.

So you surrendered to your desires. The desire for at least one man to care about you, the desire for someone who can return those feelings. William sensed how touch starved you are, finding it pathetic that your suitor had to carry you on like this for however long. His left hand glides up your arm while the other slides to your waist. His caresses were so addicting. His way of enticing your body felt unique. You’ve never felt such heat and arousal stirring in you because of a man before…

“Please, your highness… We shouldn’t be doing this…”

“Just call me William, my sweet,” he whispers tenderly, both of his hands holding yours from behind. “I can tell he doesn’t touch you the way I’m touching you right now. I can tell he doesn’t pleasure you and your needs like I will right now. Pursuing a man like that is no use for a lady like you...”

A titillating, soft sigh releases from your mouth. You find yourself curving your neck back on his shoulder, his soft breaths hitting onto your skin and sending shivers down your spine. His affect on you was like roses of desire blossoming in your limbs, growing and spreading to all parts of you so intimately. You had no idea what you were feeling and why you felt this way around him. Like you were under his hypnotizing spell of lust…

“Knowing he can never return your feelings— why, darling, not leave him for a man that can?”

And in that moment when you finally whirled around to face him, you knew you were tossing away your inhibitions. Your ponderings. Your resistance. Your chastity that was supposedly reserved for your suitor once married. But nothing didn’t matter to you anymore. You only needed Prince William to fulfill the insatiable hunger you’ve both been hiding ever since you’ve entered this room.

Your chest felt warm under his touch and your lips were barely touching the corner of his mouth, oddly lulling you. No matter how dark this study room could be, the prince can feel the way your mouth shaped his. Looking deeply into him with heated eyes, your lips parted like an invitation. William dips his head further, gently pulling you by the neck and settling into your lips, savoring every bit of you to engrave in his mind. This amount of intimacy from an undeniably handsome prince has never felt this salacious. You easily cave into his touch, his hands delicately holding your waist as you kissed him back. A slow, soft and delicate kiss until a gradual intensity of control rushed through.

“Oh, my sweet. Allow me to give you what you are seeking,” he breathed out, planting soft kisses on your neck. “Even for a brief, euphoric moment to forget the pain. Let me show you what intimacy truly feels like this very moment until it consumes you…”

Infected with such fervor you never knew you were capable of feeling, you desperately cling your arms around his neck and pull him closer, complying with a deep kiss. You were too enraptured by his charisma that the kiss fades from soft to sloppy, collecting your breath every few seconds then finding your lips back on his. Prince William kicks away the piano bench and guides you to the side of the piano, pushing your waist against it. Ignited with such fire burning within your body, the prince’s sly hands sneak around to undo your gown. All you could do was hold his face and slant your head while fervently kissing him until the cool air hits your bare back. He separates away for a moment to gawk at your tantalizing corset as he holds your dress off you. Slowly, he pulls it down, down, down… his lips parted in amusement when your skin below your waist is revealed to him like a delectable Christmas present.

Your heart couldn’t stop thumping when William’s head meets at the level of your navel, then lower, lower, and lower… letting the dress fall off his grip and puddle at your feet. He plants a delicate, soft kiss on your stomach while his hands travel up your thighs. A sigh you let out, bashfully looking away when his breath hits right at your sensuous, fragile spot still covered by your undergarments. A chuckle he lets out, enamored by your reticence of a man going down on you for the first time.

“Oh, my sweet… Have you ever touched yourself down here before?” he whispers tenderly again.

A bashful nod you gave. “N— no… only when I bathe and clean myself...”

The prince smirked down at himself from such precious naivety. He can also spot how wet you were from your silk undergarments. “Have you ever experienced a climax? A rush of ecstasy; a sensual release that you can’t control until you fall sensitive?”

“No, my prince…”

William kisses your groin, then up to kiss your abdomen, navel, your waist, endlessly kissing up, up, up… till he presses another soft kiss on your lips and pulls you by your waist away from the piano. You watch in curiosity when he removes the lid stand and closes the piano lid. When his hands slither to the back of your thighs, you let out a gasp when he hoisted you up on top of the piano, the cool laminated surface fusing onto your skin.

“Then allow me to demonstrate on you tonight,” the prince coaxed. “Right here. On top of my piano. And lay back while I find a pillow for your head.”

You were utterly stunned. Confounded of William so full of bewildering surprises up his sleeve tonight. But remaining obedient, impatient, and curious to see what he’ll bestow for you again, you lay down on the lid while William grabs a soft cushion from the sofas nearby. When he walks back, you find him standing between your legs; taking a moment to admire your half naked body before him. His hands just couldn’t keep off you, desired to trace your hips and your waist all over. The shape of your body, your enticing figure in that corset. The prince hovers above you to press his lips on yours again as he slides the cushion under your head.

In the heated moment, you feel William’s thumb tug at the waistband of your undergarments before he slides them off. You let out a sigh when your cunt suddenly throbbed from the cool air hitting onto it. William inched all the way down to gently kiss your clit, immediately emitting a gasp out your mouth from such strange sensation that made your stomach churn. You didn’t know how torturous, yet pleasurable the prince’s skillful tongue licks up the arousal in your cunt in such delirious manner. His face was buried between your legs, plunging voraciously deeper with his tongue and hums in amusement while doing so. All of your senses surge with such nourishment that you throw your head back and grind to the pace of his insatiable tongue. You felt excited. You felt enlightened. You were so writhed by this it felt utterly mind-blowing. William can even tell from your glorious, raw moans and the way you arched your back. Ever so real and torturous, he couldn't help but get much more needier eating your pussy out until you whimpered louder and louder, filling an appetite for the unobtainable.

“William! Oh god, William!” you cried out, desperately clutching onto the cushion.

You've lost the feelings in your thighs already, wanting to clamp your legs together, but the prince roughly pins them farther apart as he devoured you some more. Such indulgence makes you drown into his intensity while an uncontrollable eruption of pleasure waved through you so suddenly. Giving the prince the power to ruin you as he desires, having his tongue on your cunt and owning you just like that.

And that was your first ever orgasm, coming gorgeously in William’s mouth. Your body began glistening from sweat, desperately panting for breath from the experience. Your eyes drill into his once again, obliged to lean over and kiss you.

“How did that feel, my dove?” William mutters sweetly, wiping away the tear that trickled down your cheek.

“. . . Amazing,” you breathed out. “Oh please. You must let me feel that again, William. My body feels so different around you— I don’t know how to express it.”

The prince chuckles. “You’re just so precious. I’ll do it again and again, my dove. Until I’m satisfied. But this time, it won’t just be my mouth that pleasures you tonight.”

How could you not oblige? This night had become a night of exquisite, tender affection saturated with yearning and desire. Starved of passion for far too long, you were gifted it with the embrace of Prince William himself. He escorted you from the study room to his master bedroom, where you lay lavishly in silk sheets and adorned the way his body heat transmits to yours. Clothes scattered on the floor. Your naked body dripping like honey laying before him was something he never took his eyes off of. Writhed in the fluency of lust, he slowly and carefully entered his cock inside your taut walls.

You cried out for a moment from how staggering this penetration felt in you. William chose not to move for you to adjust to his size, another delicate tear falling through your eyes. When you tried talking to him, your speech slurred; like you were already mindless from the first orgasm he gave you prior. But even in your mindless state he can still sense your lustful craving. When you tell him to thrust inside, your mouth widened from the sensation of sliding in and out of your pussy so slowly until it shifts to a pleasant pace that you could handle. The feeling of him being inside you, clenching harder on him and hearing your fervent moans made his mind raw and twisted. William’s mouth buried into your neck, your darling aroma filling his nose. You could hear him softly groan against your ears, a rush of heat coursing through his blood like wildfire that drove him to relentlessly fuck you.

Is it not sickening enough knowing that he’s the only one to make you cum on his mouth? Make you cum on his cock that was too much for a virgin cunt like yours? Even if it was twisted and scandalous for the kingdom to find out, William absolutely adored every bit of. He took such sick pleasure of ruining you so no other man could have a chance. Staining your innocence, bringing you to the indulgence you deserve. No other man wouldn’t feel as good as him. No other man wouldn’t cherish you the way he did, even if this affair was all temporary…

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

It was quiet. It was alleviating. As you lay on Prince William’s chest, you could hear the sound of his steadily beating heart. Feeling his thumb stroking your shoulder and holding you in his arms felt soothing and comforting. It was just like at the piano earlier, where your comfort piece lulled you to a state of serenity.

“My dove,” William suddenly whispers, smelling your hair and planting a kiss.

“Yes, my prince?”

“I have never requested this to anyone before, but… I would love to meet with you on the weekdays in my gardens. Spend the night with me, do whatever you wish. But only when your suitor isn’t around.”

Your neck cranes higher with your nose brushing his bottom jawline, impassioned by his embrace and his scent. William’s hand overlaps yours again on his chest, now interlocking his fingers with yours.

“As long as we get to play more piano together,” you whispered. “And allow me to service you the way you serviced me tonight as well.”

tagging. @sinfuldxlight @diaphanoso @akazxii @peroxiddeprincess @mochas-rambles @inesalexandra1995 @neemuu @matchakittycat @holypinkroses @nihilisticfemteen @kei-midoriya @systemgoblincore @lollipop18 @minty-marcus @springbunniezwilliam

#william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf smut #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #william afton x you #sorry yall i got lazy at the end #this is also the wordiest one shot i’ve ever writren #im so sleepy yall goddamn #please be kind to leave comments or reblogs i worked hard on this!

369 notes · View notes