#♡tiefling reader

[sorcerous-caress]

For some Wyll angst, do you think you could write something where Tav is a tiefling and they're a bit insecure about their budding relationship with Wyll because he hates his devilish appearance so they're like “how could he possibly be attracted to me” (— Wyll girl dad anon)

Wyll with an insecure tiefling Tav

[Angst, comfort, image issues, tiefling Reader, nb!reader]

[Part of the Wyll's Week event]

You really tried to not let it get to you.

Each time he made a demeaning comment about his new appearance.

Sneered at the reflection of his horns, ones just like yours.

The way he stiffened when someone would focus on his red eye with the black sclera, preferring they face the sending stone one instead.

He has every right to be upset about his appreance getting forcibly changed.

And yet, despite it all, every word dug into your heart as if they were told to you personally.

Devil, demon, hellspawn, the humans loathed your kind.

You thought he was different, when you saw him being so gentle with the tiefling kids.

But a human, will always be a human.

Fear of the unknown, of what lurks behind the curtains, it was always a great motivator for the human kind.

Your horns, your tail, your bright flaming eyes and colorful vibrant skin.

Things your own mother celebrated in you as a kid.

Things your own father boosted about with pride.

Things that once were beautiful.

Marked you as a monster to the world.

Even when you fell in love with this world, left the safe nest of your own people to go explore.

it never loved you back.

So why would he love you back?

You don't remember when it started, but slowly, eventually, your beautiful reflection in the mirror twisted and cracked everyday.

Until you too, could only see the monster the other claimed you to be.

You thought he could see the beauty in you, that you too have a soul.

You were a fool.

Why would he see that when he can't see it in himself? Why would he love you when he is clearly disgusted by the idea of being like you.

You thought humans were pretty, plain yes, but pretty in their simplicity.

And even when he lost his resemblance to his own kin, you still thought that he was pretty.

Charming, beautiful, mesmerising, so many words could describe Wyll and fail to give him justice.

The lovely horns that felt like they were the missing piece to yours, the mapping of his skin with the ridges and pumps that made him even more sharper.

He clearly thought differently.

And so to protect yourself, you took a step back.

Distaned your heart, pulled back your curtains.

Wyll noticed it of course, your sudden change of heart.

But like any proper gentleman, he never addressed it, never felt like he had the right to when the two of you barely even shared a kiss.

You couldn't avoid him forever.

And so he waited until the celebration to approach you, to open the topic.

He was delicate with it, always knew how to spin his words correctly.

You were kind, always knew how to evade a topic politely.

An endless dance that was growing tiring as the night went on, as people retired to their tents.

Leaving just you and Wyll.

His flirting, words that once fluttered your heart, stung like a needle through it instead.

How could he possibly be attracted to you?

And you told him so, as you were getting fed up with this whole situation.

Told him to drop the act, he doesn't have to pretend to find you not hideous just because you're the group leader.

There was genuine suprise in Wyll's eyes, a flash of disbelief.

And for a moment the mask dropped, his charming flamboyant words that are usually dressed up were bare and forward instead.

Asking why do you think he's pretending

Why would he ever find you hideous.

You were more confused by the second, is he feigning innocence? Or is he making fun of you?

Does he think you're a fool?

The dome collapsed and the walls cracked as your heart poured out all of the pain it contained inside, each and every one of his passing comments that were ingrained in your brain like a parasite digging at your skull whenever you thought you had a chance.

Mocking you for thinking a monster can be anything but a monster, for thinking a human can see humanity in others.

As you recalled every word you were a witness to, Wyll was horrifed by the end of it.

Of himself.

The raging flames of anger amidst your chest weren't rejected by him, but welcomed as he stepped into the flames and didn't attempt to forcefully douse them.

Instead, he apologied.

To you, for everything he said, for his naive ignorance, for being too obsorbed in his own view of what makes a human a human to truly comprehend what he was condeming.

Who he was condemning.

For it wasn't the devils he ended up cursing, but the innocent tieflings he was attempting to save.

How unaware he was in his blinded rage, damming the ones he was trying to protect.

Hurting the one person he loved.

Love.

For you were not a monster in his eyes, you were love, pure in essence, raging flames in passion, beautiful in core.

He confessed how he almost didn't believe his eyes when he saw you, almost questioned reality. For how could one person put the sun to shame? How could one person rival the moon in grace?

And again, he apologiesed.

The night ended quietly.

And you noticed how Wyll lingered more and more on his own reflection.

Looked at his own horns the same way he admired yours when he thought no one was looking.

Traced the ridges on his face, gently.

And then you noticed it, a single charm.

A subtle gold trinket that one puts at the end of their horn.

Strangely, he only wore one, yet you were sure they came in a pair.

At the end of that day, you found the matching charm inside your tent with a letter underneath.

Your eyes scanned the paper, taking in the carefully written lines, the cursive words.

You held the charm in the other hand.

And nothing ever, could compare to Wyll's smile the next day as he saw you wearing it.

Although he would object, for he claims your own smile, sharp teeth and all, would make the flowers bloom in adoration.

And in a way, you were starting to see your own face again, your own reflection again.

The same could be said for Wyll, for his own monster too, quietly went to bed whenever you were around.

[dark-and-kawaii]

Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ 2

────୨ৎ────

Zᴇᴠʟᴏʀ ✧ Absolute Zevlor ✧ Hᴀᴀʀʟᴇᴘ

Rᴀᴘʜᴀᴇʟ ✧ Hᴀʟsɪɴ ✧ Rᴏʟᴀɴ ✧ Gᴀʟᴇ

Gᴏʀᴛᴀsʜ ✧ Asᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ ✧ Aɴᴅ Oᴛʜᴇʀs ♡

────୨ৎ────

[ BG3 Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ 1 ] ★ [ Rᴜʟᴇs ]

‎‧₊˚✧୨୧ [ Zevlor ] ୨୧✧˚₊‧

Caught <- NSFW - Creampie - Penis In Vag - Breeding - Giving Zevlor All The Love - Begging - Masturbation - Big Dick Zevy

Knotted <- NSFW - Stretched So Good - Pussy Never Going To Be The Same - Tiefling Cock Has Your Tongue Dangling Out - Tip Of Their Cocks Kissing Your Cervix - Begging - Tummy Bulge - Spread Wide

Commander <- NSFW - Big Dick Zevy - Creampie - Comfort - You Ride The Hellrider - You Make Zevlor Feel Loved - Dirty Talk

Training <- NSFW - Big Dick Zevy - Creampie - Bed Breaking

Pretty Little Squirter <- NSFW - Squirting - Creampie - Begging - Ridged Cock - Big Dick Zevy - Horn Grabbing - Zevlor Makes You Make A Mess

Pathetically Beautiful <- NSFW - Creampie - Breeding - Zevlor Doesn’t Last Long & Neither Do you

Fatherhood <- Zevlor Being A Dad - Comfort - Soft - Kawaii

Sweet Zevlor <- NSFW - Period Sex - Major Comfort - This Man Loves You

Scream His Name <- NSFW - Rough - Hair Pulling - Bite Mark - Zevlor Empties Himself Inside You

Tender Care <- NSFW - Tender Love - Love Making - Romantic - Lactation - THIS SHIT IS SO SOFT AND ROMANTIC!!! - Creampie

Commander or Daddy <- NSFW - Lap Riding - Creampie - Tiny Angst??

Always <- NSFW - Romance - Love Confessions - Tender Moments - Zevlor Is So Good And Gentle With You - His Tail Wrapped Around You

Please <- NSFW - Hurt/Comfort - Fingering - Making Out - Zevlor Hates What He Is - Creampie

Betrayal <- Major Angst - Angst - Injuries - Blood - Zevlor Harms You - Hurt/ Comfort - There's A Major Twist - Happy Ending? Maybe? Sad Ending? Possibly?

Pleasing Him <- NSWF - Your Mouth Wrapped Around Zevlor’s Beautiful Cock - Mention Of Creampie - On Your Knees For Him - His Hand Tangled In Your Hair - Cuddles

On His Knees <- NSFW - Zevlor Gives You The Best Head - Drooling Pussy - Sweet - Comfrot - Adorable Kawaii Ending xoxo

Big Dick Zevy <- NSFW - Stomach Bulge - Creampie - Delicious Smut

‧₊˚✧୨୧ [ Haarlep ] ୨୧✧˚₊‧

An Incubus & His Little Dove <- NSFW - Comfort - Pregnancy - Soft Haarlep

An Incubus & His Dove <- NSFW - Hurt/Comfort - Breeding - Soft Haarlep - Cervix Penetration - Angst - Love

Bred <- NSFW - Creampie - Breeding - Possessive

Milky <- NSFW - Lactation - Pregnancy - Cock Warming - Fluff

The Real Incubus <- NSFW - Choking - Soft Haarlep - A Touch Of Malevolent Haarlep - Comfort

Starved <- Slight NSFW - Submissive Haarlep - Starved Haarlep - Comfort -

A Father’s Demise <- Hurt/Comfort - Haarlep As A Dad - Character Death

Unexpected Touch <- Slight NSFW - Tiny Story - Soft Haarlep - Comfort - Gentle - Unspoken Love

Mean Haarlep <- NSFW - Bully/ Mean Haarlep - Pregnancy - Breeding

Worth The Risk <- Soft Haarlep - Dad Haarlep - Angst - Pregnancy

Don’t Lie <- Slight NSFW - Sloppy Kissing - Angst - Slight DubCon

A Soul Within <- Angst - Pregnancy - Soft Haarlep ♡

Asking For A Child <- Comfort - Possessive

‎‧₊˚✧୨୧ [ Raphael ] ୨୧✧˚₊‧

Heir <- NSFW - Soft Raphael Towards Reader - Deep Throating The Devil’s Beautiful Cock - Lap Riding - Pregnancy - Drooling - Babbling His Name

Knotted <- NSFW - Knotted - Choking - Rough - Belly bulge

Breeder <- NSFW - Breeding - Biting - Creampie - Raphael Being Raphael - His Little Mouse - Possessive Raphael

Enamored <- Slight NSFW - Fingering - Possessive Raphael - Tender Moment

His Weakness <- Soft Raphael - Tender - Comfort - You’re His Little Mouse ♡

A Delicious Meal <- NSFW - Creampie - Choking - Impregnating - Raphael Takes What He Pleases - The Devil You Know

Unexpected Care <- Soft Raphael - Bathing With The Cambion - Tender - Comfort

Wounded Raphael <- Hurt/ Comfort

A Bath With A Devil <- Slight NSFW - Comfort - Raphael Being Raphael - Bathing With The Devil - Soft Yet Possessive Raphael

Holding You In His Arms <- Soft Raphael - Comfort - He Holds You So Tenderly ♡

Chaos <- Raphael & His Daughter - Dadphael - Cute

Unholy <- NSFW - Breeding - Dubcon - Creampie - Rough Sex - Masturbation - Hair Pulling - Pet Name - Spanking

A Dance <- Soft Raphael - Slow Dancing

A Special Reward <- NSFW - Soft Raphael - Comfort - Fingering

Pitiful <- NSFW - Restrained Raphael - Desperate - Grinding Down On The Devil’s Cock

Bound & Used <- NSFW - Raphael - Astarion

‎‧₊˚✧୨୧ [ Ascended Raphael ] ୨୧✧˚₊‧

The Ascended Devil & The Mouse <- NSFW - Monster Fucking - Belly Bulge - Ascended Raphael

Stuffed <- NSFW - Belly Bulge - Cumflation - Breeding - Monster Fucking

His Personal Cocksleve <- NSFW - Belly Bulge - Monster Fucking

‎‧₊˚✧୨୧ [ Halsin ] ୨୧✧˚₊‧

Honeypot <- NSFW - Bear Halsin - Bear Halsin Eats You Out - Normal Halsin Makes An Appearance

Your Protector <- Comfort - Protection - Halsin Has Naughty Thoughts

Their Girl For The Night <- NSFW - Cunnilingus - Halsin Eats You Out So Well - Zevlor Holds You In Place - Anal - Vaginal Sex - Squirting - Big Dick Halsin & Zevlor

‎‧₊˚✧୨୧ [ Rolan ] ୨୧✧˚₊‧

Knotted <- NSFW - Stretched So Good - Pussy Never Going To Be The Same - Tiefling Cock Has Your Tongue Dangling Out - Tip Of Their Cocks Kissing Your Cervix - Begging - Tummy Bulge - Spread Wide

Addicted To The Puss <- NSFW - Pussy Drunk - He Can't Get Enough

Tail Grinding <- NSFW - Tail Play - Wiener In Vagina - Teasing

Little Kitten <- Teasing - Tail Play - Asphyxiation - Deep Throat - Creampies - Pet Names - They Stretch Your Cunt Nicely - Oc Kieran - Breeding

Take <- NSFW - Deep Throat - Pet Names - Kieran Teases and Touches Rolan - Penis is Vag

‎‧₊˚✧୨୧ [ BG3 Men ] ୨୧✧˚₊‧

Their Lovely Little Toy <- Raphael - Haarlep

Lewd <- Zevlor - Halsin - Rolan - Astarion - Gortash

Shameless Smut <- Haarlep - Zevlor - Rolan - Raphael - Dammon

BG3 Men & Their Kink <- Halsin - Gale - Zevlor - Haarlep - Raphael - Wyll - Rolan

Baby Trapping <- Gale - Halsin - Raphael - Haarlep - Rolan - Gortash

Imagine <- Raphael - Halsin - Gale - Haarlep - Zevlor - Rolan - Gortash

What They Like <- Zevlor - Raphael - Haarlep

Pet Names <- Zevlor - Haarlep - Raphael - Rolan

Fathers <- Rolan - Zevlor - Raphael

They Take As They Please <- Raphael - Halsin - Haarlep - Zevlor

Bliss <- Raphael - Zevlor - Haarlep - Rolan

Don’t Touch <- Zevlor - Rolan - Dammon

They Fill You Up Nicely <- Haarlep - Raphael - Zevlor - Gortash - Rolan

Imagine Them <- Haarlep - Rolan - Zevlor - Raphael

18+ <- Rolan - Zevlor - Haarlep - Raphael

‎‧₊˚✧୨୧ [ Absolute Zevlor ] ୨୧✧˚₊‧

His Precious Tav <- NSFW - Creampie - Mating Press - Big Dick Zevy - Zevlor Stretches You Nicely

Be A Good Little Thing <- NSFW - Knife Play - Zevlor Eats You Out Like A Starving Man - Tail Throat Fucking - Large Cock Stretching You

His Good Girl <- NSFW - Knot - Absolute Zevlor - Dark Content - Minor Blood - Soft Zevlor Comes Out Towards The End

Traitor <- NSFW - Angst - Breeding - Creampie - Choking - Belly Bulge - Zevlor Gets Rough - Soft / Comfort Towards The End - Filthy Smut

Tongue Tied <- Dubcon - Finger Licking Good - Choking

‎‧₊˚✧୨୧ [ Zevlor & Lofn ] ୨୧✧˚₊‧

Realization PRT 1 <- Hurt/Comfort - Injury - Worried Zevlor - Realizing Feelings

A Paladin & His Princess <- Comfort - A Sweet Reveal - Romance - Love

Council <- Angst - Zevlor Is Looked At As A Hellspawn - Lofn Doesn’t Stand For It

Tainted Dreams <- Angst - Hurt/Comfort - Nightmare - Character Death - Jealous Aradin - Happy Ending - Sleep Cuddles - Dad Zevlor

‎‧₊˚✧୨୧ [ Soft Haarlep ] ୨୧✧˚₊‧

Soft Haarlep PRT 1 <- NSFW - Comfort - Angst

Worried For The Incubus (Soft Haarlep) PRT 2 <- Aftercare - Abuse - Comfort - Injuries

A Tainted Mind (Soft Haarlep) PRT 3 <- Hurt/Comfort - Soft - Bathing Together

Bathing With The Incubus (Soft Haarlep Prt. 4) <- NSFW - Masturbation - Hurt/Comfrot

Part 5 Coming Soon <33

[wasteful-sam]

Only the moon bore witness to his yearning [18+]

Tags: Rolan/f!Tav, solo, mast***tion, shameless smut.

Words: 1,228

PART TWO

Notes: Thank you so much, @bloodsuckingfiends, for your beautifully written post! It planted a tadpole-shaped hyperfixation into my brain and I had to extract it as soon as possible.

Well, now we know that Rolan's passion doesn't end with magic - he has found another perfect use for his skilled hands. (˶º⤙º˶)

The f!Tav's race in the story is unspecified, so it's easier for you, dear readers, to imagine your OC in their place. 𓆩♡𓆪

Summary: Overtaken by his desperate longing for Tav, Rolan seeks refuge in one of the secluded rooms of the Last Light Inn. Unable to resist the vivid fantasies haunting his mind, he has no choice but to pleasure himself, letting his desires take complete control.

He absolutely judges me for all the slander I've put him through in this shortfic.

[AO3]

The moon had already ascended above the Last Light Inn when Rolan burst into one of its unoccupied rooms. The tiefling looked frantically across the humble, crammed lodging - he must be absolutely sure there was not a single soul here to disturb him.

The chances of anyone occupying this area were slim to none. Hidden neatly on the inn's top floor, the dusty room only contained the most basic necessities: a flimsy wooden chair, a low cupboard, and a small but neatly made bed.

Wheezing heavily, Rolan locked the door behind him. Back pressed against it, he slowly descended on the floor. The tiefling drank heavily tonight, overjoyed by the rescue of his brother and sister from the Moonrise Towers earlier. But no amount of cheap wine could drown his insatiable hunger.

Evidently, something else mercilessly bothered Rolan - his lustful thoughts of Tav.

A single, humorous interaction with her turned the wizard into a bumbling, aroused mess of a man desperate for a release. He fought the feeling throughout the night, seeking distractions in meaningless small talk. But it was all in vain - Rolan was about to succumb to his primal needs.

Vision blurred, the tiefling murmured, "What a pathetic display," imagining how flustered and eager he must've looked at this very moment. His golden eyes glimmered wildly, fueled by the thrill of erotic fantasies that overcame him. Rolan began quickly unlacing his trousers, accepting that he must take care of his needs. Right here. Right now.

Enveloped by lust, the tiefling's mind drifted to the final conversation with Tav while his trembling hand was freeing his aching flesh.

It happened during a small celebration for the captives' return - Tav approached Cal, Lia, and Rolan. Being in a rare playful mood, the wizard greeted her with a sarcastic drawl, "I thanked you once already, don't be greedy."

A soft chuckle left her lips when Tav replied, "And if I ask nicely?"

The look she gave him after - a little challenging, a little coy, paired with that beautiful, genuine smile. A simple memory of it made Rolan's half-hard length twitch. The tiefling let out a shuddering breath as his right hand curled around its tip, slowly messaging sensitive ridges below it.

Tav laughed right after it, teasing that she just wanted to see a confused look on the wizard's face. Rolan regretted that he couldn't come up with a response back then - he knew a way or two to thank her properly.

Instead, he could only trail Tav across the room with his hungry gaze. Dressed in simple camp attire rather than her usual armor, she revealed tantalizing glimpses of smooth, radiant skin that seemed to glow in the dim light of the inn.

Rolan huffed, imagining how he would bend Tav over the bar, tearing those clothes ferociously. The thought of pressing hot, desperate kisses along her lips and neck drove him mad. Rolan shoved his clawed fingers into his mouth, sucking and biting at them impatiently while his hand stroked his throbbing cock.

His hips thrust in unison with his needy hand movements. A shameless, loud moan left his throat at a wild image of Tav swallowing his length. Thinking how hot and wet it must feel inside of her made the tiefling salivate even more. Rolan released his fingers from his mouth with a ringing pop. He gently rubbed his saliva all over his sensitive tip, just for a slight chance it would feel as good as if she was licking it instead.

If Tav could see him right now, would she be as aroused? The idea of her watching him - a moaning mess, his hairdo tousled, face glistening with sweat, body shivering in pleasure - sent a jolt down Rolan's spine. The tiefling's grip on his flesh tightened, fingers tracing over its swollen veins and ridges.

"Please, open your sweet mouth for me," he whispered in exhaustion, picturing Tav kneeling before him, rubbing her plump lips teasingly all over his pulsating cock, smudging his precum all over her pretty cheeks. The wizard's free hand slid underneath his shirt, grabbing and clawing at his chest. No, in his mind, it was her hand caressing him ecstatically, praising his stature and ridges, as she touched her soaking folds.

Her soaking folds. Just a thought of it made Rolan's breathing twice as heavy, his core ready to burst. The wizard's tongue slid hungrily against the inside of his mouth, imagining the taste of her - sweet, heady, addictive. He'd give away everything he owned just to bury his tongue inside her, to drown in her honeyed heat while she screamed his name over and over and over again.

But it wasn't enough. Rolan's hand couldn't replicate what his fantasies demanded. He needed more - needed to fuck Tav raw, to bury himself deep inside her heat until he lost his mind.

Panting heavily, Rolan stumbled to the old bed. Luckily, the mattress was still sturdy enough. Afraid to lose the moment of spiraling pleasure, the tiefling hastily curled his tail around his core, its grip tight. Rolan's hand was around his flushed, leaking tip again, stroking and teasing it as he pressed into the mattress.

"Be as greedy as you want," the wizard rasped, imagining Tav bare underneath him, her folds quivering in anticipation.

He began thrusting wildly up and down the mattress, biting at his other hand to muffle the inadequate moans that his drunk, lustful mind conjured. The wizard gave up on being discreet pretty soon, as his hand needed to grab a pillow to steady his ecstasy-shivered body.

His tip was twitching uncontrollably, seeking Tav's tight, wet slit.

Rolan breathed sharply, trying to recall her smell: a mix of sun-warmed leather, wild lilies, and a campfire. Oh, how nicely it would match with his own musk - he'd rub his whole body against hers to let the smell of their passion linger on her for days.

His tail now ground uncontrollably all around his length, trying desperately to keep up with his quick thrusting. Seeking even more friction, Rolan pressed his hand around it, his grip tight and aggressive. The tiefling's head has fallen onto the pillow as his back arched, mouth agape, trying to catch air. The pillow got quickly drenched with sweat and saliva, as he was no longer able to control his jaw, overtaken by ecstasy. His hand and tail were now moving with no direction, desperate for a release.

His mind went into a frenzy, throwing the most lude images at Rolan: him biting at her nipples, her lustful expression as she whimpered underneath him, his bulging cock pounding into her quivering walls.

"You are mine," the tiefling growled as the final vision emerged: him spilling his seed deep inside her, claiming her completely.

The final thought finally made him succumb to a shuttering orgasm, spreading his hot release all over his hand and tail. Exhausted, Rolan plopped flat into the bed, panting restlessly. His hand lazily smeared the mess along his length, already coaxing himself toward a second round. There was one thing about the future Master of Ramazith's Tower that he was too embarrassed to admit: once set ablaze by his fantasies, Rolan could pleasure himself for hours without end.

Taking a moment to rest, Rolan opened a window to let in some fresh air. Only the moon bore witness to his yearning.

[bunny-jpeg]

(✿˵•́ ૩•̀˵)৴♡* bunny's fic/drabble rec's, summer 2024!

happy summer bunnies! i know as the weather heats up, it means it'll be more time to soak in those rays and that smut! while i am gettin' ready for my birthday fiasco (it's july 4th everyone), i thought i'd share some posts i've loved over the past little while!

call of duty

simon riley x housewife kink (rated: e) by @princessbrunette

fugitive!konig × naive!farmer!reader (rated: e) by @motomamita

simon shares - tf 141 x reader (rated: e) by @canyonmooncreations

barracks bunny!reader but price is extra possessive over her.. (rated: e) by @luvit

rugby player soap fucks you after a win.... (rated: e) by @vanderilnde

141 and each one of them have Bimbo girlfriends who have no idea what they do but just know they get treated well... (rated: e) by @dante-mightdie

in utero (john price) (rated: e) by @captainfern (i owe you my life for this one)

formula one

podium princess | ln + cs + cl (rated: e) by @thef1diary (major (//∀//))

rulebreaker | cs55 (rated: e) by @pedantic-poison

baldur's gate 3

midnight's embrace (halsin/reader/astarion) (rated: e) by @astarionancuntnin

beyond desperation (halsin) (rated: e) by @dragonsfictavern

mating season (halsin) (rating: e) by @dngrs-untld-hrshps-unnmbrd

no, my love. i'm not jealous of the walking encyclopedia. (astarion) (rated: e) by @lendeah

May I please beg for tiefling tav with Wyll who can't get enough.... (rated: e) by @newtabfics

wishin' everyone a safe summer! <3 xoxo, bunny

[inquisitornocturn]

We're a bit over the mark, but a celebration is a celebration and I cherish every person who follows me, likes, comments or reblogs my silly little fics (affectionately)! Thus, I want to appreciate my readers as much as they appreciate me, cue giweaway!~

Here's some things you need to know:

⋟ Prize of this giveaway is a fic, so you have a chance to have me tailor a fic for your tastes and preferences! (More details under the cut)

⋟ To enter you need to follow me, like this post and in replies tell me what you like about my writing!

⋟ Reblogs are NOT necessary and do not count for an entry. This giveaway is not to attract an audience, but to celebrate people who already love what I do. Although, you can still reblog if you wish~

⋟ The giveaway will run from today (1/20) until (2/3), for two weeks, then a winner will be picked at random

⋟ Once the winner is picked - I will contact them. They will have a total of three days (72 hours from the moment I contact them) to respond to me and claim the win, if not, I will randomly pick another person

That's it. Under the cut there are specifics for the prize to ensure that whoever wins knows in advance what to expect from me.

And once again, thank you so so much for being supportive, friendly and just overall wonderful to me. All of you make sharing my stories so much more worth it ♡♡♡

What the fic will be about, who, when and other details:

⋟ The winner will pick the fandom, the character(s), the plot, the kinks, the general setting etc. Which means all the power is in your hands and if you don't have anything to give me - then I won't have anything to work with, so make sure you have at least base details!

⋟ On that note, NSFW is totally okay and welcome!

⋟ The gift fic will be written as a reader insert. It will be a nameless female reader with 2nd POV. However, the winner will be able to pick the fantastical race if they wish. Couple examples: tieflings, elves, aeldari of each flavor, etc.

⋟ I am okay writing wlw per winner's request as well~

⋟ I will reserve a total of 6 weeks to fulfill the prize, and that means to write it. During that time I most likely will come to the winner to clarify details, especially if the fic will be smutty in nature. While it's a reader insert, I still want the winner to know it's written for them.

⋟ I will tag the winner when I post the fic and can gift it on AO3 as well, you will have to tell me your account on there so that I can do that.

⋟ The fandoms I'm writing for are the same three: Baldur's Gate 3, Vampire the Masquerade (with special emphasis on Bloodlines) and Warhammer 40,00: Rogue Trader. You can pick almost any character or several to participate in the fic for you. I have some I absolutely won't write but that depends on a plot so it's case-sensitive and we will have to discuss it together.

⋟ Pretty much same goes for kinks. I'm open to write a lot, but not everything. Again, this is case sensitive and we will discuss it. Additionally, I am a darkfic writer by nature so you will have to clarify to me just how light or dark you want the fic to be!

That's all!

[satinsnakesworld]

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ Headlocked ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆

Synopsis: Tav and Rolan get their horns locked together.

Pairing: Rolan x Fem! AFAB! Tav Reader

CW: Flirting/Fluff, Tension, Cursing, nothing too heavy just an introduction into the yearning between the two lol, 1.5k words, my goodness this was meant to just be <500 drabble

A/N: Hey!!!!! Here is a new drabble/ first official one-shot. I've been thinking about this exact scenario in my head with either a druid tav with horns/antlers or a tiefling tav, and since starting my first playthrough as a tiefling, I decided to finally write something up! Anyway, I'm just going to refer to them as horns in this. But thank you so much for reading and more to come, Enjoyyy!!! ♡ also, this is not proof read just me typing and a grammarly to get me through this :D

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆

Sourcer Sundries had just closed for the late evening. The doors were locked, most items returned, and the candles were around the lower level dimly lit and most even extinguished. Tav was finishing her final book. Rolan had left her to search through tomes and countless smaller books and schools. She mentioned briefly about just trying to find out more about certain rituals and common spells. Tav stood up from the small desk in a side room on the floor level and returned the final books she had left. Sighing deeply, she clutched one book to her chest and began the walk up to the personal quarters of the large shop.

At the top of the stairs, she stepped through the ward that transported her to the section. Tav continued walking down the main corridor that started down a hallway to the kitchen, Rolan's office, and other rooms she hadn't yet explored. The bedrooms were housed a level above the floor that she was currently on. Tav thought that the items in the book were worth mentioning to Rolan, something he must have already known but still worth mentioning. She walked toward the door of Rolan's office, once at the door she softly knocked. "Rolan?".....

She waited a moment or two before there was no response. Tav shrugged before she turned back to the corridor and started to walk toward the kitchen. She glanced down at the book she held in her arms, continued walking, and read the title once again. Before she knew it, she crashed into a wall of smooth, leathery skin. Dropping the book and hearing a clattering as well. "Tav?...." Her eyes shot up to the wizard before her. "Rolan? What are you doing out here? I thought you were going over scrolls in your office..." They shared a couple glances at each other, Rolan taking in Tav's exhausted state from rummaging through texts all day. Tav took in the semi-relaxed shoulders of the tiefling, he had on a pair of trousers and a robe tied at the waist. His chest slightly showed from the loose-fitting fabric.

"Oh my! I'm so sorry!" At that moment, looking elsewhere, Tav remembered the dropped items. At the same time, Rolan also goes to reach for the dropped book while Tav reaches for the saucer that was in Rolan's hands before the collision. "No, no... I wasn't paying attention either.."

The two of them bang their heads on each other as both reached down at the same time. The thud of their horns colliding into each other's horns reverberates through Tav's skull. "Shit!" Tav whimpers, as Rolan groans "Zurgan!.."

At that moment, Tav tries to reel her head back from the collision and feels a sharp tug on her head. Glancing up to their horns that are now twisted together. Rolan looks up at the same time, attempting to pull his horns from hers.

" Ow Stop!" Tav groans as her face lurches closer to Rolan's, noticing the slight blush on his cheeks. He stops his attempt to free them to scan her face, another quiet clatter can be heard behind him.

"Maybe if you stopped moving...We would get somewhere with this." He stares at her, his blush creeping toward his ears as one begins to grow on Tav's face. Tav breaks the stare between the two of them to glance behind him, noticing a tea cup rolled a couple of feet away from them. When and how did he even catch that??? she thinks.

Rolan attempts to pull his horns from hers while she awkwardly shifts. That causes Rolan's tail to go pin straight the second the base of their horns rub together. Tav swears she heard a low whimper come from Rolan, but at this point, it could come from either of them.

"E..Enough!" Rolan stutters out as the two let out frustrated sighs. "We will sit and wait for Cal and Lia to get back to help. One of us will break a horn if we keep trying this..."

He huffs out defeatedly, Tav lets out another sigh and they slowly begin to sit in the hallway together. The horns locked together forcing the proximity between them to slowly close up.

"How long do you think til they're back?" Tav asks quietly to him.

"Roughly half an hour or so, they left early to meet with the others down at the elf song.." Rolan replies looking off into the shadowed parts of the hall.

"Well, I can at least show you what I found while we wait," Tav says with a slight smile to try and make light of the situation they're both in.

"Very well.." Rolan sighs as Tav begins to reach for the book she had dropped before Rolan's tail makes the extra distance to bring it closer to them without moving their heads.

"Thank you," Tav glances at him and smiles again before opening up to the page she had tabbed to show him.

The pair sit together in the quiet hall, reading together from the book sat in Tav's lap, patiently waiting for his brother and sister to arrive back from their night out. As they get further into the book and begin to make comments with each other about the contents, Rolan's tail sways methodically back and forth behind them in a manner close to a satisfied cat. Tav's head starts to lull closer to Rolan's head, relief coming in the small form of looser tension on their horns.

The small bubble of comfort they found in their situation is suddenly popped by the laughter and giggling coming from the end of the corridor. Both Tav and Rolan suddenly sit up straight, yanking on their horns once more and whining as they do so. Cal and Lia look down the hall to see the pair sitting close to each other near the entrance of the kitchen.

"Well, well, well... What in the nine hells do we have here?" Cal says amusingly, as Lia and him slowly come closer to the pair.

"Our horns are well.. locked... Can you please just help us?" Rolan says exasperatingly, gesturing up to the connected points on their heads. Tav sneaks a glance at Lia, who is standing behind Cal, barely holding it together to hold back her laughter at the sight.

"Yeah, I suppose we can... Come on Lia, " Cal replies with a slight smirk. Lia positions herself behind Tav, while Cal gets behind Rolan, the two assessing the best way to remove each other, and wrapping their hands around the respective horns.

"Alright... We're gonna count to three, and Tav, I want you to push your head down on three, Rolan you're going to move it upwards on two, " Lia tilts her head to the side at Cal's thinking, still slightly giggling at the sight before her.

"One," The two begin to count with each other as Tav and Rolan brace their hands on wood tiles below them

"Two," Rolan begins to lift his head upwards,

"Three!" The two exclaim while Tav throws her head downwards. There is a slight scraping sound before the horns free themselves of each other. Rolan and Tav both softly moan with pleasure as the stress is no longer being put on their horns. In Tav's attempt to throw her head downward, she put too much force into it and ended up falling onto her stomach on the floor. At this point, Lia is full-blown, cackling and clutching her stomach as Rolan comes to stand beside his brother. Cal leans down to help her up.

"Thank you," Tav smiles weakly while the blush of embarrassment creeps up the back of her neck. She dusts off her skirt while Rolan is blushing and whispering something in his brothers ear before he says,

"Thank you both. Goodnight. Tav, I'll speak more with you tomorrow."

He curtly nods at Tav before spinning on his heels and practically bolting for the stairs up to the bedrooms.

Cal and Lia exchange their glances with each other having a silent conversation before Lia turns to Tav.

"Since it's late, you can just spend the night here, we have plenty of rooms. " She says softly with a smile.

"Are you sure, I dont want to impose more than i already have?" Tav asks cautiously.

" Nonsense! You always have a room here, I'll bring you some clothes to sleep in and some towels to wash up if you'd like just go get settled." Lia smiles with her reply and brings an arm around Tav's shoulder.

"Thank you, Lia," Tav smiles at her and steps out to the warm embrace, picking up her book and starting her way to the stairs. Behind her, she can hear Cal and Lia beginning to speculate what happened as they pick up the tea cup and saucer off the ground and make their way into the kitchen. Small fits of laughter between the two of them echo up the stairs as Tav makes her way to one of the spare bedrooms.

[darkeunology]

♡ Touches ♡

Word Count: 1804

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Talks of dying, combat

Summary: You and Astarion only ever touched each other when close to death, maybe sometimes you need to be touched to live too

Not Requested

Not Proof Read

I'm only on Act 2 of the game so this has no spoilers for midway Act 2 onwards

Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever been able to predict all that had happened to you in the last few days. From being on the Nautiloid ship and having a Mind Flayer tadpole forced into your eye - something that still makes you shiver in disgust anytime you think about it - to raiding the Goblin camp so the Tieflings finding refuge at the Emerald Grove can finally make their way out and helping every one of your companions with their memories and the help they need with other matters. As strange as these past few days have been, you wouldn’t have changed it for the world, you were having the adventure of your life with people you were getting closer with by the day. 

One person you were getting a little closer with than the others was Astarion, I mean how could you not. It had been a few nights since you were woken up by a strange feeling you had in your gut, the feeling of someone being too close next to you - opening your eyes to the sight of Asterion above your neck, fangs nearly biting you, 

“Shit.” He spoke sheepishly, backing away from you, hastily standing up as you did too. “No, no. It’s not what it looks like, I swear.” he almost pleaded, hoping to convince you as you raised your eyebrow at him, looking at him in disbelief. “I wasn’t going to hurt you, I just needed… Well… Blood.” 

The dim firelight illuminated Astarion where he stood, you scrutinised his features, something you hadn’t really had the time or need to do before. When you think about it now, you’re amazed it took so long to realise, the unnatural blood red eyes that would pierce you everytime he looked at you, the way his lips bared his teeth, two large fangs being prominent in his smile, he was a vampire. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it.” You started, shaking your head in shock, you recalled what had happened earlier that morning, the boar you’d found laying on the floor, you’d asked Astarion about it, him telling you that something had obviously bitten it and taken it’s blood, “We even found the boar you snacked on.” 

“It’s not what you think,” he rushed to say, “I’m not some monster.” he spoke more delicately now, as if the word ‘Monster’ was something he had carved on him. “I feed on animals. Boars, Deer, Kobolds - whatever i can get. I’m just too slow right now. Too weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, not actually that hurt that he didn’t tell you. 

“At best, I was sure you’d say no. More likely you’d ram a stake through my ribs. No. I needed you to trust me.” He moved slightly closer to you, still keeping enough distance that you wouldn’t feel threatened, “And you can trust me.” he finished, his voice becoming more sultry as he spoke, almost trying to seduce you into letting him bite you. 

“I do. I believe you.” you spoke gently, trying to not wake any of your other companions up, frankly you were amazed they hadn’t woken up yet. 

Astarion looked relieved at your words,”Thank you. Do you think you could trust me just a little further?” He asked, his voice still seductive, “I only need a taste, I swear.” 

“Fine, but not a drop more than you need.” you confirmed, not quite sure why you were actually going to let someone drink your blood. Maybe it was because his voice was doing something to you, maybe it was just because you needed Astarion to be at his best for any fights you were undoubtedly going to encounter tomorrow.  

He smirked at your answer, “Let’s get comfy then shall we?” He extended his hand towards your bedroll on the floor, signalling for you to lie back down, his body coming down on top of yours, his hand brushing some stray hair out of the way, brushing it behind your ear. Your eyes widened slightly as you felt his teeth sink into your skin, the pain burning initially before it sinks into a feeling of numbness, your bodies connecting through this moment together. It doesn’t take long until you're using your strength to push him away from you, deciding that he’d had enough. He kneels down next to you, his breath heavy, “Ah, that - that was amazing.” He smiled menacingly, standing up as he spoke, taking a few steps away from you again, “My mind is finally clear. I feel strong. I feel…Happy.” he smirked, his eyes travelling over your body.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you fight.” you spoke, remembering the reason you even allowed him to bite you in the first place, hoping that this would’ve been worth it. 

“Shouldn’t take long. So many people need killing.” Astarion smirked. “Now if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.” He turned his back to you, about to walk off but giving one last comment over his shoulder to you, “This is a gift, you know. I won’t forget it.” He puts his focus back on the forest, stalking to it, much more confident as he goes to find more prey, leaving you to settle down back to bed and wonder what the hells just happened. 

Somehow the relationship between the two of you wasn’t fractured at all after this incident, in fact you’d somehow gotten stronger, allowing him to take a bit from you on certain nights, when you knew he was probably desperate for some strength and he took every moment of it, relishing in the taste of your blood that coated his lips, feeling the strength rejoin his body. 

However, there was something different between the two of you than what you had with almost everyone else in the camp. As time went on, Astarion became the person you weren’t necessarily as close to. As much as you were still friends and he would still throw you the odd flirty comment every so often - you had touched everyone else in the camp, you’d fixed Karlach’s heat issue so you could hug her now, doing so whenever she’d ask you to, knowing how much she’d missed being able to be touched. You’d danced with Wyll multiple times, him teaching you everything he knew. You’d had Gail teaching you how to do some magic. All three of them telling you plenty about their old lives. 

But you and Astarion, whilst he’d told you parts about Cazador, about his past. The two of you had only ever touched when it was necessary. When you’d be helping the other up after a particularly rough patch of combat or patching each other up at camp if any of the magic wielders were unable to heal you guys through a spell. You’d only ever touched each other when you were close to death, never touching for any other reason than necessity. 

Sleepless nights would often plague you through the Shadow-Cursed Lands, there was just something about this place that would not allow you to sleep most of the nights. During these nights, your thoughts would often stray to Astarion, and the things he had told you. You wanted nothing more than to be able to help him with everything he was going through, but you would also often wonder why you two were nowhere near as close as you were to everyone else. Maybe it was because of that night, when he was going to drink your blood without even telling you first - you often wondered how you would have woken up when it was far too late, with his fangs already piercing you, and you wonder if he would’ve actually stopped or if he would’ve drunk enough to kill you - or maybe it was just simply just because you had different feelings for Astarion than you did for Wyll for example. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what these feelings were, but you knew there was something different between you. 

Your feelings were confronted one night, after a bad fight had happened only a few hours before at the Last Light Inn, your life nearly being lost to it. Whilst you were used to nearly dying in these fights, this one for some reason hit you harder. Shadowheart had healed you almost fully when you got back to camp, but something still felt wrong as you laid down on your bedroll, tears coming to your eyes before you stubbornly blinked them away, not allowing yourself to cry when all your companions were nearby. 

“Stupid question, but are you okay?” Your eyes snapped open, Astarion standing above you, a sympathetic look on his face, he still hadn’t cleaned the blood off his face which reminded you that you hadn’t either, your face feeling stiff from the blood drying on it. 

Sitting up, you responded to him, “No.” A small sob escaped you as you spoke, causing your cheeks to heat up in embarrassment. “I didn’t want to cry in front of any of you.” you chuckled sadly, wiping your eyes. “I don’t know why this has hit me so hard. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve nearly died.” you were confused as to why you felt like this. 

“You’re scared.” Astarion spoke, sitting down in front of you, a bowl of water now in front of him, a rag in his hand, “May I?” He asked gently, signalling to the blood on your face, 

“Please,” you whispered, your eyes scanning his face as he concentrated on getting the blood off you, being just aggressive enough to get the dried blood off but not too aggressive to hurt you any further. 

“I get scared all the time. Everytime we come back to camp after a bad fight.” he spoke gently as he cleaned you up, “All of us do. That’s what makes us human…” he paused, smirking playfully, “Well, that’s what makes all of you human.” You chuckled lightly. “Come on, let’s go to bed. It’s been a long day.” 

Astarion gently pushed you down so you were laying, he moved himself next to you. Your body tensed up for a second as you touched, his body tucking in tightly behind yours, the first time the two of you had properly touched each other. “Relax. I’m right here.” He whispered, laying a lingering kiss below your ear. You drifted away to the sound of Asterion’s breath in your ear, the comforting sound of someone being with you, holding you, keeping the monsters away for the night. 

It was strange to touch each other without one of them dying, but maybe touch was also something for the living.

[orphic-musings]

The pain we wrought from words unspoken…

Characters: Karlach x gn! reader, Wyll x gn! reader, Halsin x gn! reader, Aylin x Isobel, Bex x Danis

Genre: Angst, fluff (but not for you)

Warnings: hurt no comfort, misunderstandings, spoilers for the end of act 2, implied reference to death (character)

Summary: After an arduous battle everyone is celebrating and taking a much needed reprieve. Except you, whose heart has a hole that is home to loneliness and grief. Is there no one to comfort you?

Notes: Omg i am back and with a BALDUR’S GATE FIC!?!!??! yes i have been taken by this game too and it has me in a chokehold and forced me to write for it. im sorry it had to be angst it makes me so sad maybe i will write comfort pt. 2 if people want it! pls enjoy :-) (sobbing) lemme know if i missed any warnings also not proofread aha

Karlach:

Aylin had her arm around Isobel the whole night. You recall earlier how she had lifted Isobel into the air and spun her around, nothing but mirth and pure love in her eyes. The action had brought a genuine smile to your face. To see something so joyful and pure after so much torment and toil was a gift, an uplifting you didn’t know you needed. But it came with a bittersweet pang. Everyone was busy chatting away at camp, spirits were high as everyone had a much needed moment of reprise after the defeat of Ketheric. Though you still wore a smile, your heart faltered.

“Holding up, Soldier?” A warm and familiar voice appeared behind you, and you turned to be met with an equally warm smile. You nodded, returning the smile, a genuine one.

“I’m so glad to see everyone reunited and safe, it seemed like such an impossible reality before, but now….” You turned back to the Selûnite couple in a loving embrace as your sentence trailed off. Karlach’s eyes followed, but then she looked at you. Your eyes were faraway, and your smile seemed almost sad.

“Alright there?” She asked, concern in her voice. Ever conscious of the feelings of others, she could pick up on any hint of bitterness or longing in others. She knew it all too well.

“It’s just, seeing all this love… I should be so happy, I am! But it still hurts. It must be nice to mean that much to someone.” You didn’t face her as you spoke. Despite your calm voice and your content, peaceful face, she sensed a deep hurt behind your words. Her mouth opened, and her hand instinctively reached out to grab your shoulder, but she stopped.

You mean so much to me, I cherish every moment we spend together. I could forget myself in your smile, forget the world in your eyes. Just one look at your face can quell all my rage. I would spend every hour I could with you, I would not hesitate to defend you and protect you. I want to be with you. Is what she wants to say. But instead she turned away with a solemn silence of her own.

You didn’t react to her silence, times are hard, and love seemed like a luxury. You stood like a statue as she slipped away, mourning internally her prescence, as she ripped herself from your side unwillingly.

Fighting Zariel’s war was easier than fighting her feelings in that moment. But any moment could be her very last. For someone who would rather live and die in the present, fully and without regrets, she feels a hypocrite. But imagining the hope of being with you, the joy you might have from knowing how much she needs you and cherishes you, was too much to bear. She couldn’t stand the thought of taking that all away from you. It’s a lesser evil to keep it from you, to keep it from herself, in the first place, than to have fate cruelly crush it all. At least that’s what she told herself as she faced the wall of her tent, away from your own dejected form, with hot tears in her eyes.

»»————-　♡　-————««

Wyll:

It seemed a miracle that you managed to save all the tieflings, and the gnomes on top of that. And even more so to defeat Ketheric Thorm, and at last promise safety and rest to all in the shadowlands. But any praise or recognition went over your head as you reeled in the aftermath. It felt surreal, and almost like it happened too quick, and you were still having trouble processing it. Even as you walked around Last Light Inn to rejuvinate your mind.

“You’re alright! My gods you’re alright!” You heard a voice call, and as you rounded the corner you saw two Tieflings in a tight embrace. You recognized Danis as one of the prisoners you had rescued, and pride swelled in you momentarily. As you watched the reunion in tender delight, you failed to notice a presence join you.

“A joyous sight. It makes me feel better about all the toil thus far.” Wyll’s voice spoke beside you, smooth and clear. It made you smile, even as you felt the sweet atmosphere waver, threatening to leave behind a cold emptiness.

“A shame it seems so scarce these days.” You said, watching the couple wander off into the warm inn. His face fell as he noticed the melancholy in your gaze.

“Indeed. I only hope those who have love, and hope, hold onto it dearly.” You merely stared off into the distance, unmoving and unresponding. It wrenched his heart, but he remained with you. It somehow felt like the least, and the most, that he could do. He wished you would turn to him, so he coukd see the light reflected in your eyes. But you couldn’t, for the price of love and hope was one too high for you to pay, in your mind. And despite your proximity, there was a perceptible distance between you.

»»————-　♡　-————««

Halsin:

The camp was brimming with relief, chatter sounding from every corner as parties discuss the aftermatch of the fight at Moonrise towers. Many people had joined you after the fight, since it had really only begun, and your companions had proven themselves capable of leading the cause. But you were mostly grateful for the presence of those who had helped you make it that far, namely the archdruid of Emerald Grove. Halsin was relieved, and content as well. He had fulfilled his century long quest, and the lands were now safe. And so were you.

“What now? You’ve got what you wanted, after all.” You asked, unsure if he would stay now that his task is finished.

“I have. But perhaps there is more that I want.” He replied, a smile on his face. You felt the warmth of his words, and you almost let it invade your senses, but you shook it off. Curiosity threatened to get the better of you, even if you werenmt sure you wanted to know the answer. But before you could stop it the words had left your mouth.

“What is it that you want?” He paused to glance at you, the smile never having left his face.

“Not what,” he began, his gaze shifting past you, “but who.” He let out a sigh after that, like it was good to get it off his chest. But your heart fell. You had known you shouldn’t have asked, but you needed to. Just in case of that small possibility.

“Ah.” Is all you managed in reply. After a beat of silence you turned and left abruptly, the intense beat of your heart felt like it was punching your ribs. Halsin’s smile faded as he watched you walk away. Had he said something wrong? No, he realized, he had merely misread the situation. You didn’t feel the same way, you couldn’t have. He felt silly in that moment, and laughed it off as he had done with the other rejections in his life (though they were few). But he could not shrug off the pain that wrenched his heart.

The next day the camp felt uncertain again. Comforting, yes, but uncertain. The party would be on the road again, and many things could change until they next made camp again. But the heaviest thing hanging in the air was your silence, your distance. It was to be expected, he reasoned, after the awkward encounter, but he hoped it didn’t mean you couldn’t still be friends. The very thought caused his throat to tighten.

But you couldn’t even bear to look at him. Of course such an experienced, handsome and capable man such as him wouldn’t have a soft spot for you. Thinking about it now made you ill. You couldn’t be near him, because all you thought of in his presence was how lucky someone else was to have him. And as you journeyed down the road to Baldur’s Gate, your distance grew. So much that it caused an uncomfortable wedge in the group, a palpable bitterness that soured the air.

Every night sorrow would muster in the two tents on far sides of the camp. Frustration, tears and regret proliferated there in those moments, planting seeds of woe to be reaped when the dawn broke. And the cure for sickness was only right where they dare not look.

[commander-rahrah]

Talking to the Moon: Part V

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Word Count: ~6200 Warnings: emotional hurt/comfort, arranged marriage, slight family angst aka daddy issues? I'm terrible at these

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

part I: here part II: here part III: here part IV: here

Summary: Set at the end of Act II, after Moonrise Towers and Kethric. Reader/Tav leans on Astarion and reveals more about their family and their story from before the Nautiloid.

Notes: I've emerged from my cave I made on the couch in my basement and finally finished this update! I got bronchitis a week or so ago and it kicked my booty, but I'm finally feeling better!! YAY! I have no voice still, but good thing I don't need that to write fanfiction!

So this update reveals more of our Selune blessed Tav's backstory that is based off my original D&D character. I was really hung up on whether or not I should include more backstory and lore for this GN!Tav/Reader, since it isn't very typical for a lot of the gn!reader fics I've read. But it was giving me such writers block if I did not include it, as I honestly have the rest of this fic completely planned out and the endgame I have for this pairing relies on more of this backstory, so I decided to include it! Also, its my fic… and my character sooo I hope you enjoy my baby and the little story I wrote for them five years ago. This character will have a special place in my heart forever, and I'm excited to share more of them with you all!

I also desperately wanted to include a scene of Astarion and Tav/Reader kissing for the first time since his confession and them setting boundaries about physical intimacy and contact. I know the game just lets you click the kiss option right away, but I like to think its something that Astarion would build himself up to again and would maybe even have to relearn — not kissing like it was a performance, but instead an expression.

Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts! It means so much to me and every time I see a notification! It fills me with infinite joy ♡♡♡ I know there is lots of posts circulating about this and tags get filled with it, but reblogs and comments are so so appreciated!! :)

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He wasn’t sure how you did it. Astarion was exhausted, beyond that actually — shattered. His feet were stiff and aching, his mind fuzzy with weariness. Yet you were still smiling, accepting the gratitude of every single person at the Last Light Inn with humble nods and smiles. He’d never had a longer day in his life. The temple, the Shadowfell, Shadowheart, Moonrise Towers, the goddamn Absolute. Gale... Gods, you had talked down Gale from fulfilling the desire and demands of an actual goddess. All in one day. All he wanted to do was to fall into a bed with you, and sleep. To just pretend for one moment that there wasn’t any marching armies or impending vampire masters waiting in Baldur's Gate. To ignore the thrum of anxiety and fear that coursed through him as he remembered exactly what was carved into his back — what Raphael had finally revealed to him. Just for today, he had wanted to rest. But no — the end of this never ending day was to finish with a celebration. An annoying, lively celebration.  The vampire was being stereotypical as ever — standing in a shadowy corner, moody and silent as he nursed a red glass. It was wine. Gale had found a decadent bottle, buried away and forgotten about on some dusty shelf. The wizard had made an eloquent toast to the group gathered on the bottom floor of the inn. But he was now standing with Wyll — the two of them conversing politely with a pair of obviously flirtatious tieflings. Karlach had her arm wrapped around Damon, the two of them chatting enthusiastically and laughing.  Astarion was surprised to not see Shadowheart by Karlach — the two of them inseparable as of late. No, what was more shocking was that the dark-haired cleric was sat next to Lae’zel. Their mouths barely opening as they spoke to each other in low voices, buried under the noise of the celebration in the inn.  He almost choked on the sip he had just taken as his red eyes finally returned to you — where several people were forming a makeshift line to speak with you. The next one more bashful than the last as they leaned in to speak with you, all flushed cheeks and batting eyelashes.  You always had a certain charm about you, an innate ability to draw out easy smiles and laughs from others. You were also undeniably attractive — anyone who said otherwise would be a blind idiot. But other people being enraptured by you had never bothered him before. He had just silently agreed with them — that yes, you were indeed a prize like no other.  But you were his now, weren’t you? As he was yours. Even without the label or words that he still couldn’t figure out how to say. That he was too afraid to say. Regardless, why were you entertaining these fools?

He'd not felt this before — was it jealousy? Gods, he was being like a petulant child who didn't want to share their toy. You were a person, you could make your own decisions. That was the entire point of all of this. 

What was he going to do — follow you around like a lost puppy? Drape himself over you, clutch onto you like a coat so others would see he was with you? 

You must have felt his red eyes piercing through you as you suddenly flicked your eyes over to meet his gaze. Your face instantly brightened, a smile tugging on your lips. An overwhelming sense of relief went through him as you waved apologetically to the small group in front of you, before weaving your way over to his dark corner. 

"Yes, darling?" He drawled as you approached, trying to hide any emotion betraying on his face as he tipped his wine glass in front of it and took another sip. 

"Why are you hiding away in this corner? Not feeling like being paraded around like a hero?" You said sarcastically. 

Astarion rolled his eyes at you, replying dryly, "I am many things, but a hero, I am not."

You leaned in conspiratorially, lowering your voice until it was just a whisper. "I would beg to differ. But you have a reputation to uphold, don't you?"

He barked out a laugh, before flicking you in the nose gently. "You cheeky pup." 

"Ow." You feigned, scrunching your face up at him. "That hurt." 

A wave of courage swept through him as he pushed back the little voice in his head. He leaned forward and pecked his lips onto the tip of your nose. He hoped the tingle that spread across his lips as they met your skin would spread to you. It seemed it did as your skin then flashed a delicious, brilliant shade from surprise. A tiny squeak even escaped you, your eyebrows shooting up. 

You had not kissed, not since his confession. Not since all of this had started. Not a brush of lips against hands or cheeks, nothing. The look on your face and the sudden increase in the thrum of your heart had him feeling light headed. Did he truly have such an effect on you? 

For a moment, he let his gaze from you lapse as he swept his eyes across the inn. To the disappointed glances of a few partygoers, and the knowing looks of his companions, watching the pair of you interact. 

A flash of gratification went through him, satisfied at the effect he had not just on you but at those who had eyed you before. It squashed the jealously that had made a pit in his stomach, instead twisting it with a new, slowly recognizable feeling. 

"There, all better?" He smirked. 

You let out a breathy laugh, nodding at him. 

Astarion rubbed his lips together, the tingling sensation on them lingering still. "How much longer does the Hero of the Shadowlands need to stay down here?"

You looked over your shoulder to the gathered patrons, the crowd thinning out more and more as the evening faded into a dark, late night. "Bored already?" 

He let out a weary sigh, letting his shoulders droop. "Exhausted, darling. And I know you are too." 

You were always a sight to see, holding a beauty he could have never imagined or conjured up in his head. But he could see the purple circles under your eyes, the usual sparkle in them had long gone dull. 

Your eyes flickered to your boots, nodding your head in defeat. "You're right." 

"I believe they have set some rooms aside for us, if you wish—"

"Do you?" You caught him off, trying to hide your own eagerness.  

His gaze softened, a smile tugging on his lips, "Very much so."

The pair of you bid goodnight to your companions quietly, subtle nods and waves as they continued their own conversations or headed to their own rooms. Astarion walked slightly behind you on the stairs, his hand resting gently on the small of your back as you led the way.  The path you took was familiar, the worn floor boards creaking before you were outside the private room the two of you had occupied once before.

Astarion let out a sigh of relief as he closed the door softly behind him, the sounds from the lingering party below muffled and leaving you in a peaceful quiet. But as he found reprieve in finally being alone, you suddenly crumbled.

You dived for the bed, a heartbreaking sob escaping you as your hands covered your face. 

Your name choked out him before he crossed the room quickly and joined you on the edge of the mattress. Gods, what was it about this Inn and room that had you breaking apart on it? "Darling, what's wrong?" He asked, concern etching every feature.

"I- I, didn't-"

He remembered your words earlier today — gods, was that today? How comforting his touch was for you, being reminded of his presence. He placed his hand carefully on your own that was trembling on your thigh as you tried to speak. 

You finally gasped out, "She wasn't there, she wasn't-"

Mol. The little tiefling girl. You had promised those rascal children downstairs you'd find her. And it was you who had told them she wasn't in Moonrise tonight, swallowing deeply as they dipped their heads with disappointment. But you had told them not to give up hope, that she was resourceful and strong. You had sounded so convincing that even he had believed you. 

But here you were, sobbing and breaking apart in front of him. "Oh, sweetheart. Gods, I should have seen this, I'm sorry."

You sniffled, glancing up at him with wide eyes. "Why are you apologizing?"

He gave you a sad smile, his eyes shining with understanding, "I know you better by now. It was a mask you were wearing tonight...," He tucked a stray hair back behind your ear. "I hate it when you wear it."

"I just wanted everyone to be okay, I tried so hard..." Your voice cracked and broke. 

"You've done so much, darling. Look at what we did today, that was because of you." 

You always took care of everyone else. But who took care of you? Astarion thought, perhaps... him. He could… he would.

He had been.

"Oh my little moon, you don't have to carry the world by yourself, you know?" 

You sniffled and nodded, silver still lining the bottoms of your eyes. 

"May I?" He echoed the question you so often asked of him. You'd never touched him without asking the question first. Your consent you'd granted him was a separate conversation, one where you had told him casual, simple touches were okay. A silent conversation and agreement sometimes was exchanged with a look of your eyes. But with him, you had always asked. He thought that now he would return that favor to you, as you opened yourself to him — vulnerable and upset once again on the edge of this mattress. 

He hoped you appreciated the sentiment, as much as he did.

The vampire reached down, hovering his hands over your boots. Your brows furrowed slightly before you were nodding. Your eyes never left his pale fingers as he untied the laces of your boots, gently prying them off before setting them down neatly at the foot of the bed. Then he did the same to his own before he slid his way up the bed, leaning against the headboard before patting the spot next to him. 

"Come here." 

You hesitated, before beginning to scooch over to him. When he opened his arms as a silent invitation you hesitated again. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Please come here." He nodded solemnly.  

Astarion willed himself to keep steady and clear, drawing a breath he truly did not need. He enveloped you in his arms as you laid next to him, trying to stop his limbs for stiffening. It was all so foreign, it was terrifying. 

But your familiar scent filled his nose, and he could feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat with your chest pressed to his side. His fingers laxed as you settled into him, bunching into the material of your shirt. Your breaths started calming and eyes fluttering as you laid with him. 

"Is this okay?" You whispered — uncertainty laced every word. 

"I was just going to ask you the same thing."  He said softly, before swallowing thickly. "I don't know what I'm doing." You started to remove your limbs his, but he tightened his hold on you. "Don't, please."

"Astarion if you aren't comfortable—"

"I am, it's not that." He rubbed the soft material of your shirt between his fingers as he spoke, "I want so badly to be this for you, to be what you need. But I don't know how."

You craned your neck up to look at him, "I think you're doing a good job of it."

He looked down at you through his long lashes, "Truly?"

"Yes, Astarion." You sounded genuine, "No one... no one has ever made me feel the way you do."

He let out a sigh of contentment, settling in deeper with you before resting his chin on the top of your head. "I know we have so much left to do... But laying here with you. It makes it worth it."

"Are you scared?" You asked in a whisper. 

"Terrified, actually." He admitted. 

Your thumb rubbed across his stomach in smooth lines back and forth, "I will be with you every step of the way."

"That's part of what makes it all so terrifying." The vampire whispered, "Sometimes, I know that I couldn't do any of this without you by my side. But other times... when Ketheric turned into that thing, that abomination, with you looking so small in front of him..."

"I know." 

Astarion moved his head so he could look at your face, "You were right though." 

"Hmmm?" You hummed. 

"This is nice. Gods, when did I get so soft?" He chuckled, the movement of his chest vibrating your head until you joined him. 

Both of your faces were etched with bliss and contentment as you laid in the bed. On this bed where before he had laid awake, willing himself to fall into a trance, convincing himself to keep his distance from you, trying to protect himself from the inevitably of you. 

Now, you both fell asleep like that, still in your regular attire, wrapped in each other's arms with your head buried on his chest.

The stars caressing their moon. 

• • •

The journey towards Baldur's Gate was turbulent and nerve-wracking while also... hopeful. 

The group was buzzing with energy — the anticipation of returning to Baldur's Gate had made some of your companions restless in more ways then one. 

You were all sat for a short rest, relaxing in a patch of long, green grass just off of the dirt road you were traveling on. It was just your group now, the other parties and groups had begun moving at different paces and times until it was just your familiar companions now. 

Astarion was laid out in the grass, his head resting on your lap and your fingers absent-mindedly playing with his soft, white tresses. His eyes were closed, basking in the glow of the sun that was set high in the sky at this time of day. Occasionally the shadows on his face would bounce as his long lashes flickered, opening his eyes to glance at you with a dreamy expression on his face. 

It made your movements stutter each time you noticed it. But the grip he had on your heart — that was steady and true. He had possessed you in a way you still could not articulate, even all these weeks later. 

But you blinked back to reality as Gale's voice broke the silence. "You're a beautiful couple." 

You looked up, a sheepish smile spreading across your face from being noticed. Astarion craned his neck, his red eyes rolling back to look at the wizard before settling back into your lap with a disinterested look crossing his face. 

"Oh, I'm sorry... I'm made things awkward, haven't I?" Gale mumbled, his hands twirling with the blades of grass in front of him. 

You couldn't help the blush that was spreading across your cheeks at the attention. Especially as you realized the rest of your companions were looking over with small smirks. 

Gale continued as you remained silent, "I just meant that... Well, its nice to see my friends so happy. That's all." 

"Thank you, Gale." Astarion drawled, readjusting himself so he laid deeper on your lap. 

The wizard blinked in surprise, "You're welcome. Are you — is it a secret, or?"

"Not a secret, no." The vampire purred with a shake of his head. 

"We are just taking our time." You finished, a soft smile growing on your face to match the one spreading across Astarion's. 

"Hmm, that's nice." Gale trailed off, a wistful expression on his face. 

Before the silence could really settle in again, the rest of the party started a conversation up. 

"Won't be long now until we get to Baldur's Gate." Wyll said, his face hard to read. 

"Are you nervous?" Karlach stretched her long leg, nudging him in the ankle playfully. 

His mouth scrunched and nose crinkled, "I... I don't know how to feel."

"I can't fucking wait! I'll be able to show you guys my old stomping grounds!" The barbarian said excitedly, falling back dramatically into the grass with her limbs spread wide. She addressed you, shouting up to the blue sky, "What about you, Giggles? Excited to see home again?"

"Oh," Your fingers froze, hovering over Astarion's hair. "I had only lived in the city for just under a year. Home will always be in the north."

"The north? I don't think I've heard you speak of your home much." Shadowheart asked quietly, a quizzical look on her face. 

"I, yes— near the Ice Spires." Your mouth twitched.

"You hail from a noble line, yes?" Gale asked. Everyone was eyeing you with curiosity, even Astarion still stretched out on your lap. His red eyes shifting slightly as he studied you. 

You swallowed, painting on a polite smile before speaking, "My father is a Viscount. He is a formidable figure in the region." 

"Ah." The warlock grimaced, his eyes sad. "Why do I get the feeling our stories are more similar than I realize?"

You bristled. "I'm not exiled or anything... It's just been some time. That's all."

"That's all?" 

A humorless laugh escaped you, "I am a second born child. And my older brother is much more obedient and better suited to the game of politics than I am." You couldn't help the sad, bitter smile that spread across your face. The thought of home stung in more ways then one. 

Astarion noticed how tense you had become, his hand squeezing your knee as he pushed himself up with a dramatic huff. "We are never going to get to the city if we sit here lounging all day." 

You shot him a grateful look, and he gave you the slightest nod in recognition as he offered his hand to lift you up. He did so easily, brushing off blades of grass lingering on you both gently. 

"You were the one complaining not long ago about how long we had been walking for!" Gale said, sounding completely exasperated as Wyll helped him up.   

"Me? I said that? I don't think so." The rogue playfully scoffed, shaking his head so his soft curls bounced dramatically. He looked over his shoulder at you with a conspiratorial smile before stretching his hand out for you. His fingers intertwined with yours easily as he pulled you along the dirt path, away from the questioning and burning curiosity of the rest of the party. 

• • •

Your group finally settled down for the night — picking a small clearing just off of the well-worn, dirt path you had been traveling down. Perhaps the last time you would be sleeping in the wilderness. You would be at Wyrm's Crossing by midafternoon tomorrow. 

Astarion had set up your tent on the edge of camp, attempting to give you both some sense of privacy from your busybody companions. He knew they meant well, that they hadn't meant for this afternoon to turn into an interrogation. That, like him, they were just curious to know more about you. As kind and good you were to all of them, you were still somewhat of a mystery. You had revealed the origins of your powers to the group yes, but you rarely spoke about yourself or your home.

Not even to him. 

The vampire had been content to let it lie. He knew it would come with time — and he certainly couldn't make any demands of you. Not after how gracious and patient you had been with him. But he couldn't deny that part of him wanted to know more. Astarion had somehow become an open book with you — revealing and exploring parts of himself that he had buried down so deep that he was surprised he could find them. 

He worried that it all had been about him for so long. His trauma, his past, his goals. That maybe you had kept parts of yourself hidden away, on the back burner for him. 

You had your back turned to him at the moment, the golden flickering of the candles in the tent illuminating the curve of your spine and freckles across your bare skin. Your muscles stretched and tensed beautifully as you lifted your arms over your head —pulling your nightclothes over yourself as you changed in the corner. It was a boundary that was set much earlier, that he had slowly started making less and less strict. 

He wasn't ready for anything more yet — he knew that. But his red eyes couldn't help but roam your figure. He couldn't help the familiar sensation of want twisting low in his stomach, the twitch of his fingers at his side as he imagined running his fingertips over your soft skin again.  

The smile you gave him as you turned around was dazzling, even in the dim light and tight space of the shared tent. You joined him cross-legged in the center of the tent, both of you not quite ready to go to sleep just yet. 

He picked at his nail for a moment, trying to seem nonchalant as he opened his pink mouth to speak. "So... the Ice Spires?"

You raised a single eyebrow, a hard to read look crossing the rest of your features. "Yes?" 

His fingers continued to fidget in front of him. "It's cold... all the time?"

"Not all the time. Our winters can be brutal though." You said with a scrunched nose. 

"Oh, what a lovely sell. I can't wait to go now!" He said sarcastically. 

"Ha." You laughed dryly, before your voice turned wistful. "It's beautiful honestly... I miss it."

The vampire studied your face as you undoubtedly saw visions of your home in your mind's eye. The edges of his lips curved up as he remembered your promise to take him there one day. He broke you out of your daydream with a quiet cough before he spoke again, "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want. But why did you leave there, darling?"

Your eyes flashed to the floor of the tent, your mouth forming a hardline. "Promise me you won't be upset?" Your voice was barely a whisper. 

His eyebrows furrowed together at your reaction. He took two fingers, dipping them under your chin so you would look up at him. "Why would I be upset? You leaving home for whatever reason is why you are here now. With me."

Your eyes softened with his answer, before you nodded. Yet you still licked your lips nervously before speaking, "Well... you know that Selûne told my mother I would be destined for a different path then the life of nobility. My mother agreed to it all those years ago, both my parents knew and yet... they still hoped they could reel it all back in. That enough etiquette and language lessons would shape me into the perfect child they hoped I would be. But it was never me. I tried for them, I really did. Instead I started to fantasize about the people in our history lessons like they were characters in a book, and I spoke too loud and laughed at the wrong moment at dinner." 

Astarion couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he imagined you as a child — your face round and soft with innocence, your brilliant smile with missing teeth. The havoc that you would have caused, racing down wealthy halls as you acted out scenes from your books and danced in an empty ballroom with your melodic laugh echoing in the space. A piece of himself he had long forgotten about twinged inside him. He couldn't remember his own childhood anymore — it was lost to the last two hundred years of darkness. But something warmed in him as he dreamed up what yours was like. 

He snapped back to reality as you spoke again. "But I had a duty. I'm the second born, I wasn't being primed to one day take over for our father and run the keep, but I could be used in other ways. I've known of it since I was twelve."

His white brows furrowed again, "Known what?"

"When I became of age I would be married off to secure wealth and political ties with other territories. I'm engaged... technically." You admitted. 

His eyes dropped immediately to your fingers, the several jewels that adorned them from the moment he met you. He had never thought anything of them — thinking they were an artful display of rings that matched your personality and appearance well. But there it was — a golden ring of much higher quality then the rest, with a large ruby sitting in the center of it. Gods, how had he missed that. 

"Oh my gods. I'm a homewrecker." Then he burst out laughing, his head thrown back and his hands holding his stomach as he howled.

"Astarion, you'll wake up half the camp!" You leaned forward and hissed. 

"I'm sorry, I just —" He let out between gasps of breath, "It's so funny. Of course the person I fall for is to be wed to someone else."

You joined his chuckles, shaking your head. "It is like a cliché plotline from some terrible drama."

"It is! Or like a punchline to some joke. Did you hear the one about the vampire and the fiancé?" You both laughed for a moment, before he clutched onto your hand and squeezed it reassuringly.  

"So you aren't upset?" Your voice a whisper again, uncertainty flooded every word. 

"Upset? Darling, why would I be upset?" 

You huffed out an exasperated breath, "Astarion, I just told you I am betrothed to another person."

"And you are on the other side of the continent from them. Not married. And sitting in my tent. Is this why you left?"

Your eyes widened in surprise, "Yes, we planned it all out actually— my betrothed and I." 

"Really?"

You nodded, "They had also spent the last years troubling over it, attempting to delay it for as long as possible." 

"I'm assuming getting kidnapped by mind flayers was not apart of that plan?" He said with a smirk. 

"Definitely not. I so badly wanted to travel, to see the world outside of our keep I'd known my whole life. So... they insisted to my family that they needed a spouse that was learned and well-traveled. That I could enroll in a college to become a more suitable match."

Astarion raised a white brow, "And that worked?"

"It did. I think my father was so desperate for it all to work out that they just agreed."

"And how did you attending a college lead you to Baldur's Gate so many miles away from home?" 

You let out a dry chuckle, "I will say that I did go to the college like I intended. I lasted a week. Just long enough to purchase supplies and stationary from the college before paying for a spot on the next wagon out of Silverymoon." 

"Stationary?"

"I've been sending letters home for the past year, using stationary from the college so my family believes I'm still there studying and being a model citizen." 

He raised his eyebrows, a smirk spreading across his lips. "I'm impressed. That's very conniving... I didn't know you had it in you."

You smiled sheepishly, your fingers twisting in your lap. "I'll admit it was a clever idea. I ran out of supplies about a month before the Nautiloid." 

He pursed his lips as he finally understood, "They haven't heard from you since then?"

You shook your head, "No. I imagine my father has sent some of his men to check on me, and they have long discovered that I took back my tuition deposit and left months and months ago." 

"This whole time we were worried about a vampire master storming our camp, when really it could have been a disgruntled father or worried mother finding us?"

A large exhale left your nose as you shook your head, "Oh, my father would never come himself. He would just send his second-best men and a strongly worded letter ordering me back home. My mother though... I can only imagine how she betrayed and worried she feels." 

The vampire squeezed your hand again before running his thumb along the backs of your knuckles. "Why did you never tell me this?" 

"Astarion, the hardship and abuse that you went through...," Your eyes shined with pain, "My story is nothing compared to yours."

"Your story is not nothing." He shook his head, his voice earnest. "Your story is you — and you are everything. Never spare parts of yourself from me." 

"Even the messy parts that years of etiquette lessons couldn't train away?"

He let out a breathy laugh before smiling at you, "Especially those parts, my lovely moon." 

"You have gone soft on me, Starry." You teased before matching his smile. 

• • •

After another day of travel, you stood in the abandoned castle in Wyrm's Crossing, bracing yourself on the stone wall. The skyline of Baldur's Gate could be seen from here, the distant sound of the bell's ringing heard even from here. 

Your party had finally made it — after all of these weeks. You would walk the familiar cobblestone streets of Baldur's Gate tomorrow. The familiar scents and sounds of vendors and citizens, the bustle and crowds would be so different from the wilderness and forests you had been traveling through. 

The group's energy was buzzing as you settled for camp in the abandoned castle — a strange mixture of excitement and nerves. Astarion hadn't hidden his feelings with you — his anxieties and insecurities surfacing with every step closer and closer to the city limits. With every step closer to Cazador and his ritual. Hundreds of different ideas were bouncing around his head, you could tell. 

Yet your confession to him last night was still replaying in your head, especially as your stared at the ring on your left finger — the red gem catching the light. You weren't sure why you wore it anymore. A habit, you guessed. 

The sound of purposeful, shuffling feet announced that you were no longer alone. Craning your neck you looked over to see the man who normally consumed your thoughts, climbing the stone steps that led up to the falling apart battlements you stood on.

"What are you doing up here, darling?" 

"Just taking a moment."  You admitted as you loosed a heavy breath. "And you?"

"Oh, just over pretending to be interested the idle chat by the fire." Astarion waved his hand, before sliding in next to you. He braced his elbows onto the edge looking out over to the skyline. You watched him take a deep steadying breath, his eyebrow crinkled with worry for a moment. 

You fiddled unconsciously with the golden ring on your left hand as you watched him. The movement caught the vampire's attention, his red eyes snapping to it before looking up at you. He chewed the inside of his lip, before speaking, "Can I ask you a question?"

Your stomach tightened with sudden nerves, "Of course."

"This wedding... Your arranged marriage." 

"Hmm?" You hummed. 

His pale throat bobbed as he swallowed, "Would you have gone through with it? If there was no Nautiloid, no tadpole — none of this. Would you have gone through with the arrangement?"

A heavy sigh escaped you as you pushed your elbows off of the stone edge and stood up, "I would have... I would have tried. It felt inevitable before — inescapable."

He shifted around, so he was facing you — standing to his full height and looking you in the eyes. "And now?" He whispered, his long fingers reaching to brush the insides of your wrist lightly.

"Astarion... I never could have imagined any of this. I spent my whole life fantasizing and daydreaming of an escape and grand adventure. Nothing I've dreamed up has ever come close to being with you. I have fought mind flayers and ogres, refused Gods and marched across the country so that we can keep going. So that we can have a chance. I will take my father's disappointment and wrath for ruining his plans for financial security." 

"Heh — We can add him to the list of people we've angered along the way." He joked, but his eyes were glimmering with unspoken emotion after your declaration. 

You studied the handsome man before you, your lips parting slightly as you took him in. He was radiant in the moonlight, his white hair and pale skin shining. The way his usually sharp eyes softened and rounded as he looked at you.

Gods, you loved him. You had known for sometime now that you did. The words had been crawling up your throat, lingering on your tongue and swirling in your mind for days. But you would be patient for him. 

One side of his pink mouth turned up, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Your head cocked to the side, "Like what?"

"You..." He seemed like he was at a loss for words for a moment. He shook his head at himself, before he admitted in a whisper, "They way you look at me... you make me feel like I'm poetry."

"You are, Astarion." You said simply. Courage suddenly flooded through you. You knew you would be fine, no matter how he answered. You wouldn't dare rush him. But you wanted to ask tonight. "May I — May I kiss you?" 

He blinked in surprise before his red eyes flicked down to your lips and he unconsciously licked his own. Then he locked eyes with you, nodding breathlessly. "Yes," He whispered back, his long lashes fluttering. "Yes."

Moving your hands up slowly and gently, your fingertips gripped the side of his strong jaw. You heard his breath sharpen as you moved your face to meet his — slowly, giving him time and space, allowing him to change his mind and pull away. But he didn't. Instead his eyes closed softly, his head tilting towards yours as he waited for you to kiss him. Then your lips locked as your mouth pressed softly against his, carefully as you waited to see if he would kiss you back. A low noise escaped you as you felt his lips press harder against yours, returning the kiss. 

You had long thought of your first kiss with Astarion in the woods near the Druid's Grove all that time ago. You thought you had memorized the sweet taste of him on your lips, the scent of leather lingering from his armor and groans that made the hairs on your arms stand up. 

But this — this was so different. Not practiced, not ritualistic like he so often said. 

This new first kiss was so painfully soft and tender. He tasted like wine, rosemary and honey. His hair softer then you remembered as your finger toyed with the curled tips at the base of his neck. The happiest of sounds escaped him as he parted his lips for you, allowing you to deepen the kiss as your tongue slid across his teeth. You both stood like that for a moment, relishing in the feeling until you both felt dizzy. Your lips stuck together slightly as you pulled away. His forehead was pushed against yours, like he was no longer content to not be touching you. 

Astarion's eyes were ablaze in the moonlight as he looked at you, his mouth falling open as he caught his breath. "Again. Kiss me, again.” “Starry?” You asked, your brow twitched. “Kiss me. Please. I miss it, I've missed you." One of his hands gripped the tip of your chin as you moved your mouth back towards him, halving the movement as he pulled you back in for another kiss. The other intertwining with yours in between you, squeezing your fingers gently. 

His sharp teeth dug into your bottom lip, causing a shudder to run down your spin. "Slow down, my love." Your groaned out.

"I have — weeks of this — to catch up on." His voice was breathless and he continued to interrupt his own words as he pressed lips to yours over and over. 

You pulled away, studying his face — the skin around his mouth pink from kissing, a slight flush crossing his complexion. But his eyes were fixed on you, filled with want and need. "I'm not going anywhere, Astarion. We have time." 

"Good. " He beamed, resting his forehead on yours again as you both breathed each other in. The two of you silhouetted on the crumpling battlements as you held on to each other for a moment longer.  

Read Part VI here

[inkbybambi]

I would actually LOVE more of that unconventional piss kink with Soap and if it turned Soap x reader x Ghost + period stuff. Just anything your heart and mind create. Your writing is always so divine and I am grateful you have blessed us with such a delicious feast. ty <3

dearest darling angel anon, i am so, so incredibly sorry for taking so long to answer this. i just want you to know that i've thought about this every single day and it always makes it brighter because of you so thank you so much, you have no idea how much this means to me, genuinely ♡

like i cannot wait to write more reader + johnny (+ ghost + period) scenarios, they are bouncing around in my head and i need to let them out !!! so thank you so much for your patience and encouragement and everything, i promise to write more for them ♡

also ily for using divine bc that's the name of my dnd tiefling and i even have it tattooed on me so ♡

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

[ninehclls]

CODEX - 16 a conversation between Tav and his best friend

requested by @dramatispersonac volo's portion was written by @astcrion ♡

As many know I have had the pleasure, nay the distinct privilege, of traveling with the (most recent, as of the time of publishing, of course) Hero of Baldur's Gate, and as such have been privy to much the greater public shall never know of.

We all have our secrets, this great land is so full of them that you can not go more than ten steps in a wooded glen without tripping over some buried chest of treasures.

Which, one must ask: haven't you people learned to invest in locked cabinets, tucked safely away in your humble abodes? Clearly not, or perhaps I am being too harsh for there have been many a soul displaced as of late, but now that peace has finally settled upon the world again… I implore you, bury your treasures deeper so we don't all fall on our faces on our nature walks or keep them on your person.

But I digress!

This is no secret I share with you here, as you are as free as any to find this great warrior and ask yourself: did this happen as Volo has recollected? Is Volo's memory of this moment pure and untainted by what time does to all our memories as it marches ever on?

And I assure you, my friends, he would say: Volo is right and Volo speaks only the truth. We were all of us in a watering hole of sorts when I witnessed a conversation that cements in my heart, and I should hope yours as well, the love for the Heroes of the High Hall. For it is their strong bonds that truly saved us all in the end and without them where would we be?

Our hero, Tavis Vodan, has always been a humble fellow. I assure you I have never met a man who deserved to be described by the word until I met this one. Charming, funny, and yes though a tiefling this was of no consequence for he was every bit as lovely as the most faithful and kind paladins, such as Xenk Yendar!

He entered the establishment with his shoulders hunched, a great worry settled upon them to be sure. His eyes were set upon his dearest companion, and another tiefling to boot, Karlach Cliffgate. Many of you can surely recall her with ease, for who can forget such a statuesque woman with curls of fire licking at her crimson skin, leaping from her body as if she housed within herself a little star churning and beating as her very heart.

A heart, which, has always been full of light and love… unless it was turned upon those who would bring evil into this world. a wicked thing can not be tolerated by one such as her, to be sure! Tavis shuffled to where she currently sat and asked, though he hardly needed to:

Can I sit with you? -T

Of course you can, soldier. … What, got somethin' in your eye? Quit starin' at me like that. - K

Sorry. [Indeed he was staring, whether bewitched by her strange, heated beauty or perhaps because he was just trying to memorize the face of his good friend as they would soon part ways for good. Or so he thought!] Sorry, it's just been a long day. Gortash finally dead, and all. - T

Right. I'm trying not to think about it again. Not sure if grieving my own fucking life constantly might send me to the grave quicker. - K

Gods, I don't want to think about it either, but I can't help it. I keep thinking we would've been best friends. If we met sooner. - T [The trepidation in which he spoke these words brings a tear to my eye even now. How sweetly he uttered this wish, this secret hope.]

We're best friends now, aren't we? Can't we enjoy that? - K

We are. We will. I just - I don't want you to die. - T

What, and you think I want to? - K

[Here he began to laugh, but my dear readers it was pitiful, full of sorrow.] From what you said back at Wyrm's Rock, I know you don't. I just wish there were something I could do. I feel like I've already pulled off so many miracles and sending you back to Zariel isn't an option, would never be an option, but… - T

I know. You've never lost anybody before, have you? Never had anybody to lose. You told me that. - K

I haven't. And I know it isn't helpful to remind you that there's nothing we can do about it, or remind myself of that. You mean the world to me, though. I'll be there with you no matter what. - T

.. But it hurts, yeah? - K [As I have said before the heart of Karlach Cliffgate is one that is always full, of fire and passion but also empathy that can draw anyone to her for want of such a loving embrace. Metaphorically speaking.]

Not the same way it hurts you. I'm so angry and sad for a lot of the reasons you are, and for my own reasons too. I want to find a way to enjoy the time we have left, but I have to get past this part first. - T

What, the grieving? Do it later. Seeing you all weepy's just going to make me feel worse, you know? Don't you dare be grieving me while I'm still alive, Tav. - K

[It is here he grew silent, but his shoulders no longer slumped so sadly and his chin lifted a little higher. This is the effect Karlach has on people, you see. She inspires them, she brings out the best in them, she assures them all is well and means it!] You're right. - T

Hells yeah I am. I want to enjoy the time I have left too. I can't do it when everyone's looking at me like I'm made of glass or something. Just treat me normal. - K

Can we do something fun, then? Maybe a pub crawl. We can celebrate Gortash being dead. - T

Oh fuck yes we can. That I can get behind. - K

By the way. What you said before you came back to camp earlier… - T

Yeah? - K

I love you too. - T

Get your arse over here, soldier. [She then pulled him into what I can only assume was a bone crushing hug.] - K

And that, my fellow Baldurians, is but a glimpse of a single moment in the lives of only two of our many heroes. Can you yet imagine what more exist? What will remain secrets forever more? And what will soon be revealed by yours truly in his second edition of this very book?

Love, as they say, wins.

[sorcerous-caress]

Tiefling with a human kink finally bags a human baddie. He’s sweating just trynna act normal and not ask the human a really indecent question

"Do you cu-" clearing his throat, Ardour tail's end dug into his ankle. "Come." He corrected himself, "Do you come here often?" The tail curled around his leg tightly.

"Here?...my own house?" Expecting irony or the build up to a joke, turning your gaze away from the TV screen as you lowered the remote to face him.

Only to be met with a sincere expression. For a second, the suspicion of the guy in front of you being an idiot crosses your mind before you immediately brush it aside.

"I guess. You know, since I live here." You went back to scrolling through the list of movies.

"Cool cool."

Ardour's sharp claws traced the soft surface of the couch underneath him, taking advantage of your distracted gaze to blatantly trail his gaze up and down your thighs. Drinking in the sight of your hips. Hand curling into a fist to prevent his claws from tearing the couch.

Humans are really...so squishy. He pictures your own hand pressing between your thighs, touching yourself and chasing pleasure with desperation. How different would his own hand feel around you? Would you like grinding against the bumps and sharp bones underneath his skin? Would you enjoy the rough infernal texture of his skin against your fragile, easily injured human one?

"Did you ever fuck yourself on this couch?"

He can't say that.

"Did I ever what?"

"Uh...meet a tiefling before? Other than me?"

"No not really." You press the remote's button harder than usual, "you're my first" your eyes suddenly find the floor interesting before going back to your scrolling.

Your first.

Ardour closes his eyes, taking a sharp breath.

Your first infernal cock to stretch you open and fill your insides with his cum. The big bad tiefling defiling the pretty human, pouring sin down your throat.

"Have you tasted a tiefling's cum before? Would you like to?"

No.

Inviting him to your house, allowing him to see you in your comfortable clothes, complimenting his horns.

Being such a fucking tease.

Heats build up inside him. Putting a small pillow on his lap to cover the growing tent between his legs as he scoots over to you.

"You've never had a cock littered with bumps before, You've never been properly fucked so just bend over and-"

Shut it.

Behave. Act normal. He can't fuck up another date with a human.

...maybe if he starts innocently? You don't know much about tieflings so he can always play that card.

Ardour's tail leaves his leg as it wraps the other way towards you, settling on your lap and brushing against your stomach.

The strange sensation makes you glance down at it, a questioning look on your face.

"Oh sorry!" He fiegns ignorance, "it does that sometimes, it has a mind of its own."

He watches as you take in the false information he's feeding you at face value. Smiling and saying it's no problem.

"Is it okay if I-" your other hand moves towards your lap.

"You can touch it." Ardour immediately replies, "I don't mind. You can even kiss and lick it, shove it down your throat to get it wet enough so I can use it to open up your tight-"

Stop.

"And my horns too, if you want. I saw you glancing at them" he says instead.

You beam at his words, delightful surprise in your eyes before a conflict of embarrassment washes over you at realising he noticed your glances.

Still, you nod eagerly.

The sight of you has his heart in a vice grip. Is curiosity really this adorably intense in humans?

He scoots even closer, his knee brushing against your own as he lowers his head to present his horns. His position's slight resemblance of a bow doesn't go past him as his his sharp pointy teeth bite his lower lip to suppress a whimper.

A tiefling bowing to a human. It feels fitting in a way. It was your race that was slutty brave enough to get fucked mate with demons, gracing the tieflings with the gift of existence.

Worshipping the humans is a thought many races would scoff over. The notion by itself is enough to send a high elf into hysterical laughter.

Yet all he can think about is kissing up your feet, licking your ankle, gnawing at your thigh with his razorsharp teeth until you have mercy and spread your legs open.

"Do I have to beg to sleep with you? Do you want to see me kneeling on the floor pleading for your permission to touch myself?"

He can't make up his mind if he wants to worship you or put you in your place the same way his demon ancestors must have.

Just what kind of humiliating acts the humans submitted to in order for the demons to agree to breed them? What kind of degradation did the human kind endure while being stuffed with burning hot cum or being milked for all of their worth?

...do you miss it? Do you want him to replicate it?

"I'll ruin you to anyone else. Fuck all of your holes and plug the cum inside with my tail. Make you nothing but a pathetic fleshlight for me to use and squeeze like my ancestors have always done to your kind, human."

His thoughts are cut short by the feeling of your finger tracing up his horn, testing the waters.

The feeling is electric on his end. His teeth dig deeper into his lips as he suppresses any sounds threatening to slip out.

"Please touch me. Fuck please please, I want you to pull them. Pull my horns. I don't care if you break them. Just don't stop."

Bit by bit, your touches get bolder, abandoning the remote to wrap both of your hands around his horns. Stroking up and down, brushing the tips and experimenting with this new texture to your heart's content.

This new position presses your chest against his face without realising it. Ardour feels his hands shaking as he stares in front of him.

The urge to touch you, squeeze you and bite you. Mark every corner of your body until you can't look in a mirror without the ghost feeling of his touches hovering over your skin.

This was his plan. This was his doing, so why does it feel like he bit off more than he can chew?

A throbbing between his legs, his cock painfully hard. His claws tear through the pillow on his lap as he drags his fingers dow, imagining it's your plush thighs instead.

"That weird elf wasn't kidding when he said the human body was made for nothing but sex." His hand slips underneath the pillow to press against his aching cock for any sort of relief. "You're not even aware of how much of a slut you're being, are you? That's how in your nature it is."

Ah.

His eyes open wide in panic as your hands abruptly stop touching his horns.

He said that out loud.

[dark-and-kawaii]

You've done a remarkable job getting me hopelessly hooked on tieflings. It did get me wondering tho, how would the bachleors react to their partner begging for the knot? Properly too, face down, ass up, hands holding their cheeks spread.

Thank you for writing, I do appreciate reading your work. ♡

˚₊‧꒰ა♡໒꒱‧ Knotted ‧꒰ა♡໒꒱‧₊˚

₊˚⊹♡ YES!!! 100/10!!! I’m eating this up om nom nom!!! Something about the tieflings and having knots just make me drool!!! The way they’d fill you up so nicely- you’d never want another cock again, nor would you ever be the same~ ♡

₊˚⊹♡ Pairings: Zevlor x F!Tav/Reader - Rolan x F!Tav/Reader

₊˚⊹♡ Content: NSFW - Stretched So Good - Pussy Never Going To Be The Same - Tiefling Cock Has Your Tongue Dangling Out - Tip Of Their Cocks Kissing Your Cervix - Begging - Tummy Bulge - Spread Wide

Notes: I didn’t add Dammon because these got longish~ Enjoy my dear xoxo

‧₊˚✧[ Zevlor ]✧˚₊‧

The way your face was pressed into his bed roll, your ass thrown up in the air as your fingers spread your pussy lips... The look in your eyes, the way your tongue was out, panting, saliva dribbling down your chin. And that beautiful hole of yours, slick with your juices, glistening and twitching... No doubt you were playing with yourself in preparation for his return to the cave... That was pretty risky of you. If Tilly had decided to accompany him...

“Z-Zevlor~!” You gasp out his name in a breathy moan, “I want it- I- I want to take your knot please~”

A shudder runs down his spine as he listens to you. It takes all of his willpower to not just slam his hips into you, his aching cock twitching with every word that falls from your lips. He swallows thickly, his fingers pulling at the armor around his neck.

His face felt hot and his mind hazy.

He had to focus on something other than your scent, the way you called his name… “Y-you shouldn’t be here. What if someone came looking for me and found you in this compromising position-“

“I don’t carrrreeee~” your mouth hangs open, saliva dripping onto his sheets, “I want them to know~ know I belong to a foulblood, the most handsome oneeee~” you whined, wiggling your ass, spreading your legs a bit wider.

You were going to give this old man a heart attack. He had to open his mouth and take a few gulps of air to get more oxygen to his brain.

“A-are you sure? I fear it may-“

“I-I can take it~!” You cut him off, looking over your shoulder at him, “Y-you've stretched me out so much with your cock already... A-and I've seen it~” You give a small moan as you slip a finger into your pussy, “Y-your knot is so big... I-I wanna feel it stretching my pussy open~ break me~”

He gives a small groan, his hand moving down to free his throbbing cock, stroking the length as he watches you finger yourself. He wants nothing more than to slam himself into your little cunt, feel it wrapped tightly around him, but... He also wants to make sure that you'll be ok. Taking his thumb he smears the bead of pre-cum dripping from his tip onto the head, slicking it up before pressing his thumb into your needy cunt. He can't help but shudder when he feels how wet you are, his tail swishing in response as he slips his thumb deeper, watching as you start to suck him in.

You bite your lip as you look over your shoulder at the handsome tiefling, pushing yourself against him and his hand, wriggling your hips desperate for something bigger- much bigger. “A-ah~! Z-Zevlor, p-please~! I-I need more~ I-It's not enough~!”

He had never seen someone- never been with someone as desperate as you for him. He hated himself for saying you looked like such a whore in his head, but it was true. You were just a needy, whimpering mess on his bed roll.

Zevlor's thoughts were cut off when he felt you reach back and grab his throbbing cock.

“Zevy~ Fuck me please~! Stretch me open…“ You looked over your shoulder at him, licking your lips hungrily, “Commander~”

Hearing his title, feeling your hand stroking his cock, the sudden change in the way you addressed him… Despite his fear of harming your tight snatch, he’d give you what you desired, and he’d make sure to take such good care of you~

…

Your legs were quivering, knees weak, as you bit into his thin sheets, the only thing you had to muffle your screams. It had taken Zevlor a moment to get his knot halfway inside, his cock pulsing with each breath you took.

“mmmph!!!! fhhhh~ !! AHHH~!!! MMMMMM!!!!!!!!!~!!!~!!!!!~~”

Your knuckles turned white as you gripped his bed roll, your pussy stretching wider and wider. Tears rolling down your cheeks as his knot started to press into your pussy further. It felt like you were being ripped open, his knot growing wider and wider.

“My light, I can stop- I- I can pull out. I don't want to hurt you... If this mmph- if it’s too much... We can try some other nigh-“

Your hand released his bed roll and grabbed his arm, holding it tightly.

“I s’need it, commander... Please…~” Your words came out a choked sob, a plea.

His breath catches in his throat as he watches you push back onto him, his eyes going wide, the pain evident on your face as you force him deeper and deeper inside of you.

Finally, it popped inside.

The mouth of your sex stretched grotesquely as it engulfed his big meaty knot, your lips sealed around the base of his cock… “Ahhhn~!!! H-hhaa~! Oh gods, oh gods- Z-Zev!!! I'ms stuffed m‘full- soooo fff-full~!! I-it's stretching my tummy-!!”

Zevlor delicately moved his hand down and around your waist, and sure enough there was a little bump on your belly where his cock was. His hands moved to your hips, gently rubbing the skin and preventing you from taking him deeper. His heart was pounding, worried that his knot was too much for you. His hand slid over to yours so he could lace his fingers between yours before kissing your shoulder softly, trying his best to be comforting, “Shh… You're alright, I've got you...”

One thing was for sure, he was going to miss you when you both finally went your separate ways…

‎‧₊˚✧[ Rolan ]✧˚₊‧

You lay there panting, a thin gleam of sweat on your entire body, babbling his name like some sort of prayer. Feeling the cold air on your exposed, wet pussy as you spread it open for him, your hands pulling your folds apart to show him all of your insides… How your womb was ready and waiting for his potent tielfing seed.

“R-Rolan- Please-,” you were ready, it was time you took his knot. The way it throbbed, the tip of his cock oozing a thick and gooey white liquid, the base of his length throbbing and engorging with blood, turning his pretty cock into a bulbous, veiny knot that was just begging to be sunk into your waiting sex.

But Rolan didn't move, “I-“ he felt so foolish. Here you were, ass in the air, your pussy spread and waiting for him like some sort of offering, and here he was, the very picture of hesitation and uncertainty. His own mind was screaming at him, yelling that this was everything that he had been waiting for- he’s imagined filling your greedy pussy with his knot from the moment he met you… But now that you were begging, now that it was right here he was too scared to take the plunge.

He was so afraid to lose you, of being alone… It’s the reason he’s been purposely holding back from locking himself with you, not giving you his knot no matter how much you begged him. Rolan never said it out loud ever but deep down he was afraid you’d look at him like a monster if he showed you the true extent of his nature.

And you, ever the observant one, noticed.

Your hand reached between your thighs to grab the base of his dick, feeling the bulge of his knot pulsate against your palm. Squeezing him gently as you cock your head at him and pout, “don’t be so greedy~” you mocked him. You were still breathing heavily, but a smile graced your features. Your other hand, covered in a sheen of your own wetness, reaches back and grabs his tail. Gently, but firmly.

Pulling his hips closer to yours, guiding him, “if you don’t fill me nicely with that delicious knot~” you bring his tail up to your lips and lick a long, slow line from the base to the tip, causing Rolan to shiver and moan. Your teeth nibble at the base of his tail, biting down enough to make him squirm but not enough to cause him any real pain, “I’ll have to use this as the replacement. I think that will do nicely, don't you agree?~"

Rolan groaned at the sensation, his mouth agape as his breath became more ragged, “mphf - hah-” he covered his mouth, trying to keep from getting too excited. The idea of you shoving his tail in your cunt and riding it so deep until he saw the outline of it snaking through you- “S-so desperately needy and gr-greedy- li-like a whore in heat-“ he breathed on your shoulder…

…

Your head jerked back, “GUEAAAU!!!!!~” your tongue hanging from your mouth as saliva fell from your lips, your eyes crossed, your vision blurred, and your ears ringing. For a moment you couldn’t hear, see, or feel anything other than the sudden, overwhelming sensation of being filled stretched, your uterus being smashed repeatedly by his tip now that it was finally fully buried inside.

Rolan bit his bottom lip so hard he nearly drew blood, the sharp points of his teeth digging into his flesh and leaving indents, his face a mess… He could feel your sloppy pussy lips wrap around his knot, the popping noises it made as he would forcefully pull it out and then back in as it caught on your lips over and over. The sounds coming from your mouth made it sound like your internal organs would come popping out of it…

“M-my wom-b- A-a-augh- H-ha-h-h-hh-hhhh-h-h-!!!!! Sho’deep Rolan baby~! You're sooooo deep~!! I can- can feel you- so deep~!!! You're hitting- my cervix-! Ahhh!! Ah-!! You're making my pussy all stretched out and gaping f-from yo-your knot~!!!”

His hips moved on their own, the tip of his dick kissing the entrance of your cervix, trying to penetrate you even further than he already was. Your cervix was already starting to swell, and you could feel the pressure building up in your belly.

You were going to be filled with his warm milky tiefling seed, your body ready to welcome his into this world. You swore your eyes had heart shapes in them from thinking about how his knot would plug his cum up inside of you this time, keeping it nice and safe, until he’s ready to fill you up with another batch of it. And then another… And another… Never spilling a single drop…

[wasteful-sam]

Only the moon bore witness to their confession [18+]

Tags: Rolan/f!Tav, shameless smut + fluff, voyeurism, masturbation, blow jobs. This is chapter 2 of Only the moon bore witness to his yearning [18+]

Words: 3188

Notes: Sorry for the long wait. (Ｔ▽Ｔ) They will be right back to their hot-and-bothered shenanigans in part three. :3

The f!Tav's race in the story is unspecified, so it's easier for you, dear readers, to imagine your OC in their place. 𓆩♡𓆪

Summary: While lost in the depths of his perverted fantasies, Rolan is unexpectedly caught by the very woman who haunts his desires - Tav. What was supposed to turn into the most embarrassing night of his life instead ignites raw passion between the two.

This pic is not relevant to the story. My gif broke, so it's either this, or I spiral into madness. <3 Also he's hot so everybody wins!

[AO3]

The moon's eye was half-lidded that night. But even so, it still watched over the realm's inhabitants. Tav was no exception.

The adventurer was just passing by the Last Light Inn's docks, returning to camp from a night swim. That's when faint, peculiar sounds reached her battle-tested ears.

Were they coming from the cellar? What if the party didn't kill off all the meenlocks underneath the inn? This can be trouble.

Tav sighed, looking around. No weapons, not even a shovel in sight. Her camp attire – a flowy tunic and a pair of tight leather pants – wasn't exactly combat-appropriate.

All she could do was check the cellar and return with reinforcements if necessary. Tav tiptoed into the old building, making as little noise as possible.

Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lighting. Rows of old wine barrels lined against the cold stone walls, discarded equipment, broken chairs - truly, nothing of note.

But as she slowly drew closer to the source of the sounds, the woman finally realized what they were. Incoherent mumbling. Panting. Whimpering.

Then, Tav saw him.

Her reflexes were fast, saving the adventurer from an embarrassing situation she walked into. She ducked, hiding behind a wall of empty crates, hands covering her mouth to stop a shocked gasp.

Once the initial dismay was gone, Tav carefully peeped from behind the crates to confirm she wasn't hallucinating.

Completely unaware that he had been watched, Rolan sat bare on the long wooden crate, his red-and-blue robe carelessly discarded on the floor. The wine has gotten the better of him once more. It preyed on the tiefling's loneliness and longing, casting him to a secluded place to indulge in hopeless fantasies.

His fingers tangled roughly into his hair, tugging at it, disheveling the elegant hairdo. The motion pulled his lean torso taut, muscles flexing under the thin sheen of sweat that clung to his skin. Droplets glistened like jewels against his ridges, tracing slow paths down to his stomach and the core of his pleasure.

The tiefling's chest was going up and down in chaotic, heavy motions, struggling to take a breath between the lustful moans.

Just as his mouth, the tiefling's eyes were wide open, but they could not see anything around, covered by waves of pleasure. His other hand had a tight grip around his hot, erect cock, dragging the skin in bitter-sweet motions.

Rolan felt as if all time in the world belonged to him, torturing himself at a snail's pace, not allowing himself a release. It was his way of atoning for his sins. Of worshiping the woman whose visage he desperately clung to.

"Please, Tav. Slowly. You know how I love it," he murmured, consumed by his depraved imagination.

"There is no way. No way this is happening," Tav's thoughts screeched inside her skull. And yet, her ears and eyes weren't deceiving her.

The wizard, whom she had secretly fancied since their days at the Emerald Grove, was shamelessly masturbating in the dead of the night. What's more, he fantasized about Tav while doing it.

The adventurer felt her face burning up. But this fiery feeling was nothing compared to the flame surging to the bottom of her stomach.

Stripped off his clothes and pride, Rolan looked unbelievably seductive. There was no place for his usual grumpiness and arrogance. Only a raw want mixed with adoration towards Tav. Her name, slipping from his trembling lips, sounded like the sweetest psalm ever sung.

Tav couldn't look away, eyes tracing shamelessly up and down his exposed body. She wondered how it would feel to touch him. To caress his ridged skin, savor his deep kisses, melt in his embrace. And so much, much more.

Although she could watch him convulse with desire for hours, Tav knew her behavior was wildly inappropriate. Not to mention, her own arousal spiraled dangerously close.

"Just walk away. You will talk to him about it later," Tav's inner voice nudged, and she decided to follow its advice. Reluctantly, the woman crouched and started walking back to the cellar's entrance.

Yet, fate has decided differently: it wouldn't let Tav leave this place so early.

One careless move and a shaky wooden chair fell to the ground with a cluttering crash. In an instant, it felt as if all sound and movement had evaporated into nothingness. Tav's body froze, her breathing seized just for a minuscule chance she wouldn't be discovered.

Alas, it was too late.

A few painfully slow moments later, she heard Rolan's voice. Still raspy and out of breath, he asked into the darkness, "Who's there?"

Silence. Then, a faint shuffle.

"I know you are there. Come out. Right now," the tiefling tried sounding calm, but the notes of bewilderment in his tone were impossible to hide.

Tav cursed under her breath. It was one of the most awkward, uncomfortable moments of her life. But then she realized – for Rolan, it was ten times worse. She must be as delicate as possible to spare his poor dignity. And to avoid getting scorched in the process.

The woman stood up and started slowly walking back towards the wizard, "Please don't be mad. I didn't mean to," she mumbled.

As her figure appeared in Rolan's range of vision, Tav discreetly looked him over. Uncharacteristically pale, eyes wide with anguish, mouth agape – the tiefling was paralyzed by the realization. Still sitting on a crate, the wizard held his robe against his body, covering himself from chin to knees. One less problem for her, at least.

Finally, a sign of movement – Rolan slowly started blinking at his unexpected visitor, hoping she would just disappear the next time he opened his eyes. But it was not another fantasy of his, far from it.

"Tav?!" he yelled out, his terrified state converted words into high-pitched anger, "What in the hells are you doing here?!"

Unbeknownst to the tiefling, his right hand jumped up, combing down the disheveled hairdo.

Bracing herself, the woman quickly replied, "I swear it was not intentional. I heard a noise, thought monstrosities were roaming around, and stumbled upon you. I'm sorry."

Rolan exhaled, for he knew not what to say. There was no point – the tiefling got exactly what he deserved for indulging in depravities. He felt like a complete degenerate, and the worst part – Tav must be thinking the same.

Embarrassed beyond what words could describe, the wizard hung his head down, “I ask that you don’t tell anyone about this. Now leave.”

His defeated tone made Tav break out into a cold sweat. If she left now, things would probably change between them forever. Rolan would avoid her presence, no matter how she’d approach him.

“Do you really want me to leave?” her mouth was quicker than her thoughts. Just as the wizard’s head turned to question what Tav meant, red flowers of embarrassment blossomed all over her cheeks.

The realization dawned upon him.

“How long have you been watch-” the tiefling caught himself, “How long have you been here exactly?”

Tav made a couple careful steps towards him, “Long enough to figure out…,” she paused, her mouth all dried up, heart pounding in anticipation, “Rolan… do you like me?”

The tiefling’s body stiffened as if it was petrified, if not for a quick flick of a tail, “If you intend to mock me – please, save us both time. The situation is beyond embarrassing already,” he said, eyes now locked onto the floor, unable to face her.

“I’m not mocking you!” Tav quickly interjected, “I just… I wish you would’ve told me sooner.”

She watched him slowly raising his head, his amber gaze searching hers, questioning. But Tav couldn’t help but focus on a little wrinkle between his eyes. Such a delicate, pretty feature of his. The adventurer was used to seeing it when he would get angry or annoyed. But now, it looked so timid, as if holding inside all the vulnerability Rolan hid from everybody. Oh, how she wanted to kiss that wrinkle right now, to take his insecurities away.

The woman couldn't stand and look at him from above any longer. Determined, she sat down right beside him, shoulder pressing into his bare arm.

"I like you too," the woman uttered, her face inches away from his. But Rolan's confused expression told her he wasn't convinced. "A lot," Tav added confidently, taking his free hand into hers.

At long last, there was a shift: Rolan's brows rose, and a soft, confused chuckle escaped his lips. The man struggled to believe the confession wasn't just another figment of his imagination.

"Well, I," he stopped, unable to contain an almost childish grin, "I am happy to hear it. Though, it's a shame you had to find out this way."

Tav shook her head, "I don't regret it," her soft fingers intertwined with his, holding the tiefling tight, "And you should not, either."

The time stalled, and silence deafened everything around them. Yet, their eyes remained locked on each other: wandering, waiting, wanting.

Until he carefully leaned forward, lips barely brushing against hers. Even then, Rolan couldn't look away, gaze filled with worshipping adoration. At that moment, Tav decided her devotion to him would be as boundless.

"More," she whispered, surrendering to his kiss.

The tiefling obliged obediently, his moves growing bolder and needier with each subsequent kiss. The ardor in Rolan's chest began to burn anew. He caught her lower lip between his teeth, drawing a breathy gasp from her. And when her mouth opened, he met her tongue with a moan that rumbled deep in his throat.

The wizard tasted like an expensive, spicy wine mixed with cinnamon, making Tav even hungrier for his touches. Her hands wrapped around his neck as she pressed closer, hearing the tiefling's heart pounding heavily in response.

As their breaths grew loud and ragged, Tav's mind got clouded by the lewd images she had witnessed earlier. Right now, all she wanted was for Rolan to drop that stupid robe. For him to take her. Just as he fantasized. Just as she secretly pictured it during cold nights at camp.

The couple only pulled apart when their breath ran short.

Looking slightly dazed, the tiefling tried and failed miserably to collect himself, "You are simply... breathtaking," Rolan mumbled once his forehead landed on her shoulder.

The fact that their kiss left the wizard completely stupefied made her chuckle, as she was just as taken with Rolan.

"We should make the most of the night, don't you think?" Tav murmured, leaning in closer to him.

Rolan licked his lips, the taste of her sultry kiss pleasantly lingered on his tongue. His very core craved to steal another from her as soon as possible. But even more than that, the tiefling wanted to hear what she had to say.

"I'm all ears," he replied as his hand wrapped around the woman's waist, landing casually on her hip.

Tav's hand slipped beneath the fabric he held against his chest, gently rubbing the ridges around his ribs. The sudden sensation made him let out a soft gasp. It only fueled the molten fever pooling between Tav's thighs. She wanted to hear what other lustful sounds she could coax out of him.

Her lips trailed light kisses up his neck before stopping next to Rolan's ear, "I want to watch you touch yourself again," Tav whispered, lips dancing against his earlobe, "You think you can do that? For me?"

The prickling heat took over Rolan's body. Those were not the words he'd anticipated, but he'd be damned if he didn't obey. The very suggestion made him hard, trembling, and drunk on their shared arousal.

"For you - anything," the tiefling muttered, discarding his robe to the floor.

Seeing his bare body so close made Tav weak in the knees. Tight and shivering, it radiated hot, white desire. Rolan's hand curved around his thick, slightly curved length. Already so hard, bouncing in anticipation of a touch. He stroked it with deliberate slowness, eyes half-lidded, seeking her reaction.

And Tav was eager to show how much she enjoyed his lewd display. Her lips found his neck again, sucking on the sensitive skin below the ear. The woman's eyes, however, never missed a single stroke the tiefling made. She wanted his throbbing cock to undo her. But the anticipation was almost as pleasant.

Her warm, slick tongue trailing along his skin made Rolan's pace quicken, drawing muffled moans from his lips.

"That's it," she breathed into his ear between hot, wet kisses, "You're so handsome, Rolan. Please, don't stop."

The tiefling whimpered softly, his member twitching at her tender praise. Rolan's other hand quickly slid up from Tav's hip and underneath her tunic. His palm greedily cupped her breast, the clawed fingers teasing and rubbing her nipple. It was now Tav's turn to whimper in pleasure. The sounds only made Rolan knead and caress her soft, silken curves with growing possessiveness.

"I want all of you," he groaned in ragged breaths as he pulled her into another deep, sloppy kiss. His moves were now uncoordinated and desperate - her mere sight and gentle touches made him feral.

And then Rolan felt it. Her palm touched his frantic, stroking hand, fingers drawing light circles around his sensitive tip. The sensation was so maddening it made him pull away from the kiss, eyes glassy with surprise.

Tav chuckled and quickly made up for it by finally kissing the little wrinkle between his eyes.

"I want all of you, too," she said, carefully prying his cock out of his hand, "Will you let me?"

Her fingers went lower, rubbing along his pulsating veins, teasing him. A jolt went through Rolan's body. It took all of his restraint not to drag Tav onto his lap and ram into her senselessly until she was full of his seed.

No. More than anything, the tiefling wanted to please Tav, to see her indulge, to be the cause of it.

"Please," he groaned softly, pressing his forehead to hers, "Take me however you want."

With a sly smile, Tav wrapped her hand fully around his length, finally getting to feel it: the burning skin, soft and stretched, covering his rock-hard, veiny core. Her mind went blank, moves guided by a sole desire - to see Rolan in shambles, begging for her.

One gentle slide up and down his pulsating cock was enough to get the tiefling's heart racing again. He couldn't bear to melt in pleasure alone. His other hand, now free to roam as it pleased, flipped Tav's tunic. Taking in the view of her perfect bare breasts, Rolan wasted no time. He pressed a hot kiss against one of them, marking her tender flesh with a love bite. His tongue went on caressing her sensitive nipple, moving, growing more impatient with every passing second.

Tav's strokes, so maddeningly tight and slow, quickly turned him into a whimpering mess of a man, fighting the desperate need for a release. Rolan tried, with what little control he had left, to muffle his broken moans - kissing her, sucking on the delicate skin of her breast, nipping at her shoulder. But none of it could erase the raw ache her touch ignited in his throbbing flesh.

Seeing Rolan falling apart so easily, breath shaken, hips thrusting in sync with her moves sent a sharp pulse down Tav's core. Catching a moment when his head was down between her breasts again, she pecked a curve of his horn.

"Who would've thought you were so sensitive," the adventurer hummed. Her fingers were gliding atop his tip again, smudging the precum in rushing, circular motions.

"It is all on you," the tiefling hissed in exhaustion as his lips found hers once more. Another deep, scorching kiss, bodies trembling, pressing together in tight anguish.

Once Tav parted from him, she knew: Rolan was ready to erupt any moment, "Hold on for me a little bit longer," she pleaded hoarsely.

The wizard blinked, watching Tav quickly descending on her knees before him, casting her tunic on the floor. She said something, but he couldn't hear a word, possessed by the vision. A woman whom Rolan was ready to worship if only given a chance - flushed with desire, skin marked by his kisses, kneeling at his feet. Truly, a divine sight.

Her lips pressed against his cock, mapping small, gentle kisses from its base to the tip. Their fevered gazes met as she let her tongue flick softly over the sensitive head. Slowly, just like Rolan loved it.

"T-Tav...," was all his trembling voice could master. The tiefling's hands gripped at the sides of the crate, knuckles paling from the tension, breath hitched as her moves grew bolder.

She savored his taste, swirling and gliding her tongue around the throbbing head and ridges of his cock, enjoying his faltering groans. But it wasn't enough. Tav craved all of him.

Moving quickly, she licked his length from base to the top, coating him thoroughly in her slick warmth.

Satisfied, Tav glanced at Rolan, his eyes half-lidded, irrevocably intoxicated with his lover.

"Tell me what you want," she purred, lips caressing his sensitive tip some more.

"Tav," he rasped, nearing his breaking point. Her name leaped so sweetly from his lips. The only name he ever wanted to utter in moments of intimacy. "Take me. Swallow me whole, please," Rolan whispered. His hand traced the smooth skin of her jawline, pleading.

It was all Tav wanted to hear. Her lips parted, taking in his aching length inch by inch until he filled her up completely. She moved delicately, letting her tongue roam every sensitive part of his cock. Pooling at it gently, caressing and swallowing. Letting Rolan feel how much she enjoyed his heated flesh.

His groans grew incohesive and loud, the melting wetness of her mouth taking over all of Rolan's senses.

Tav's restraint began to falter, making her move faster, taking him in deeper and deeper. As wet, lustful sounds filled the cellar, his hand flew to her hair, fingers tangling instinctively. Uncontrolled, Rolan's hips started to thrust, seeking more friction. The way she fucked him with her mouth drove him to the brink of madness.

"I'm, I'm almost..." he gasped, suffocating, barely able to hold himself back.

But Tav only tightened her hold around his eager cock, moaning and quickening her pace. Their eyes locked for the last time before Rolan came undone.

As waves of released pleasure washed over him, Rolan felt as if he could breeze again. Overstimulated and teary-eyed, he watched her gulping his seed, just as breathless as himself.

Enamored by Tav's beauty, the tiefling kneeled in front of her, pulling the woman into a tight embrace.

They held each other in silence, bare bodies pressing lovingly against one another, taken by the serene moment.

"You have no idea what you've done to me tonight," he finally murmured against her ear, covering it in gentle, lingering kisses, "I warn you now - my revenge will be ten times sweeter."

[starlessea2]

Masterlist

Hello, my amazing readers!

First, I want to thank you so much for all of your support. Your comments and feedback really mean the world to me. I’ve made so many friends on this platform, and I utterly adore getting to talk with you all.

(you can also find my work on Wattpad and Ao3 under @pandorahurts)

♡ = favourites

Each section is ordered by oldest to newest

Baldur’s Gate 3

Wild-flower [Astarion] (multi-chapter WIP)

“Once upon a time, you would have led me to that crypt—and not some pretty clearing in the forest.” 

His brows knitted with guilt. The laugh lines she's grown to love fall into a frown. 

“For what it’s worth. I thank the gods every night that they didn’t let me have you.” 

Chapter 1 - Little Flower

Chapter 2 - More Interesting Times

Chapter 3 - Cut And Run

Positively Starved [Astarion]

In spite of your nerves, you invite Astarion back for a bite; admiring the trust you've put in him, he promises to be gentle (Act 1 spoilers).

The Dawn Watch [Astarion]

As dawn breaks the morning after the tiefling party, you find a vampire basking in the sun. In the daylight, all of his pretty words start to unravel. (Act 1 spoilers).

That It Is [Astarion]

After a long day trudging through the sunlit wetlands, you discover your bedroll is waterlogged, and that Astarion has lost his in the swamp... AKA, the classic: ‘oh no, there’s one bed, whatever shall we do, darling?’ (Act 1 spoilers).

The Walking Dead Misc.

Deja Vu [Carl Grimes]

After a few years, you return to a rebuilt Alexandria - only to find that everything there reminds you of Carl Grimes.

Daryl Dixon Masterlist

[inquisitornocturn]

⊱─ 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕣𝕠𝕒𝕕𝕤 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕 ─⊰

➺ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Cazador Szarr x f!tiefling reader the Dark Urge

➺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: no y/n is used, rating - E, POV second person, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, canon-typical violence (when it comes to Cazador that is), graphic depictions of violence, sadism, smut, inappropriate use of Mage Hand spell, non-con, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, asphyxiation, grinding on a boot (sort of), dubcon, painful injury, tongue wound, bleeding, hair pulling, humiliation, degradation kink, PiV, rough sex, vampire bites, blood drinking, creampie.

➺ 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: A former Bhaalspawn, now aimless, you wander Faerun until you get a letter from no other than Cazador Szarr, beckoning for you to visit him. You're not sure why, he's not the man to show gratitude even if you did give him Astarion and helped him Ascend, nor he is the one to suddenly feel grateful years later after the fact, but you feel a pull to learn why the Vampire Ascendant wants you back in Baldur's Gate. So you return, too arrogant to realize that you're walking into a dragon's den.

➺ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 11,225

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠��� 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: This was written for the wonderful, supportive and always amazing @velvolktra. Thank you for being just an incredible human being, and for matching my freak lol♡~

Baldur’s Gate.

Disgusting little city that you poured energy in saving. And what for? For these peasants to stroll the streets, smile and laugh with no gratitude? Hero of the City, ptui, maybe they would get some actual semblance of real gratitude if they built a temple for you instead of this meager statue.

You look at it with your face upturned, eyes squinting in the sun and the gentle late spring breeze in your hair. You see the visage of you, actually quite closely resembling your image, carved out of stone with precision. Your unblinking eyes gazing over the city and onto the sea, your hand victoriously raised in a fist, your expression made to be determined but still gentle, your other hand holds a banner of Baldur’s Gate. You nearly spit at the feet of the statue from annoyance, the pigeons lingering on your stone horns only irritate you further.

For a moment you wonder how often the city servants have to scrub the statue to make it look so clean even years after the big battle, but you don’t linger on this as you gaze down the statue’s form, despising even the armor they carved upon your body. You don’t remember much of your past, but you do remember everything since you woke up in that damn squid ship, and you know for a fact you never wore armor.

Maybe you should go and talk to the current Duke, demand that they change the statue if they want to have one displayed for you in the first place. Maybe, but not now. You’re here for a reason and that reason is not to bicker with people who are below you, who should be groveling at your feet, but instead barely recognize you as they pass you while you’re standing right in front of the idol erected in your honor.

When you finally peel your scrutinizing gaze away from the monument, you look around, doing your best to ignore the people that seem to be crawling the park like pests. You’re close now, to the Palace Szarr, but you’re in no rush. It’s enough already that you came at all after receiving the letter.

You have it with you, in your small travel bag hanging off your shoulder, and you pause digging through it. The paper stained and bent after being shoved among other items for weeks, but when you open the envelope and pull out the letter itself, the elegant yet sharp lettering is still as black as the day it was penned down, telling you to come for a visit. Telling you to witness the fruits of your subordinance.

At first you didn’t even consider coming back. You have no reason to visit Baldur’s Gate again, not after you saved the damned city only to save yourself, and especially not after you rejected your murderous daddy before he stripped you of your powers in retaliation. Withers, that dusty corpse, revived you when Bhaal took your life along with your abilities, spouting something about destinies and doing good.

Doing good. You smirk at the thought of the memory, because you don’t think you have done a single relatively good thing since you left the Sword Coast.

Still, the letter found you and so did your memories of Cazador Szarr, the man who seemed to be a better ally than most. At least he kept his end of the deal after you brought his sweet wayward son back and watched him explode into a cloud of blood mist and gore the moment Vampire Lord closed his fingers around his prize – the Ascension. You were only mildly angry with him for not showing up at the final battle, but the minions he sent to aid you were enough, obviously, otherwise you would not be standing here today, basking in the sun in the middle of a freshly rebuilt Gate.

You stuff the letter into the envelope and that you shove back into your bag, rising your eyes to the greenery around you and pushing a lose strand of hair out of your eyes that the soft wind blew there. You’re not quite sure why you decided to heed letter’s invitation and return, you left because there was nothing for you here, because you wanted to see what’s out there. Between the lost memories of being stuck in the Temple of Bhaal and present memories of fighting your way through enemies to get rid of the damn worm that was lodged in your brain – you realized you didn’t actually see anything in your life before, for however long you lived it. So you picked up what was left of your belongings after Orin’s reign in the Temple, and left.

For years you traveled all around Faerûn, trying to find something, that purpose that you can’t quite grasp even now. Some strange yearning is gripping your heart and you try to find something to alleviate the discomfort that’s firmly lodged in the middle of your chest, but so far you haven’t found what it is. The cure evades you, whatever it is.

With a deep sigh you begin walking, knowing full well where the palace is so you head there, navigating among people, making sure no idiot manages to snatch or step on your tail. You haven’t seen another tiefling since your arrival and while nobody is exactly staring at you, even despite your fame and legacy, you still doubt that these people are accustomed to avoiding sensitive limbs that they themselves never had to experience.

One thing you notice as you make your way towards the main entrance of Cazador’s home, is that the city seems to be full of life. Not only with spring bringing nature back to full bloom, but with people. You see races of all kinds, children running around and goods being sold by traveling vendors. There are bard songs in the air and laughter. There’s music and countless smiles. It looks like since the partial destruction of the city and your departure the population grew. You smile to yourself, imagining how the vampire coven must be thriving with so many veins to bleed.

You pass a stall and grab an apple from it with your tail when the man selling them doesn’t pay attention, then grip it with your fingers firmly and bite into it, chewing as you look around, noticing all the changes that have been made since you set your foot in these streets years ago. You have to admit, Baldur’s Gate is growing and becoming… well, maybe not nicer, it’s still a slum in your opinion, but cleaner. You can give the city at least this kind of compliment.

By the time you arrive at the main Szarr gate you get rid of the apple and now look upon the palace that you entered only couple of times before. First to negotiate with Cazador, then to bring wonderfully clueless Astarion back to his master and then once more, after the final battle was done, to finalize the deal you two have made. You parted ways quite cordially and the Vampire Lord did tell you that you can come visit, saying how he would not turn away one woman who actually knows how to get a job done. But disgruntled that he still saw you no more than his servant you never came back, instead leaving Baldur’s Gate entirely.

But now you are back.

Standing in front of the gate of Cazador’s home.

If not for your curiosity to know why he wants you here, and you doubt that he went through the trouble of finding you just to tell you to come by and witness his glory, you would not have bothered. Well, that’s at least what you tell yourself. Despite your pride and your ego, your heart did leap in your chest when you saw who exactly signed off the letter.

But he still better have a very good reason to make you drag yourself back. That’s what you tell yourself when you push open the gate and approach the door, knocking on it. It only takes a moment before it is opened and you see a spawn, her red glowing eyes studying your face for a moment before she lets you in, staying in the shadows as the sun threatens to touch her.

When you walk inside you look around. Before there were heavy curtains everywhere, covering the windows and preventing any chance of sunlight possibly sneaking inside like a silent assassin, but now the place is bright and full of light. Everything looks spotless and golden décor glints softly in the sun’s rays. For the first time you realize – it’s beautiful here.

“Please follow me.” The female spawn shuts the door behind you and scurries in front of you, avoiding to look at your face. It puzzles you, but only for a moment, because you have to start walking and keep up with the woman who seems to be in utter hurry to deliver you to her master.

You don’t mind, in fact you’re growing more impatient with every step, and while you do appreciate the paintings that adorn the walls depicting scenes of nightmares as you pass, enjoying the tasteful horror of them, it’s still no use in lying to yourself – you are dying to know why you’re here. And you can’t guess the answer even with the help of changes that you see. Just like Baldur’s Gate, the palace also changed. Maybe not in how it’s furbished, but in the number of servants you see. Some of them even wear same clothes, showing their status as official part of the Szarr family, however lowly that status may be.

When you’re led to the massive door that opens up to the ballroom, you are not surprised to see it filled with sunshine either. Neither you are surprised to see Cazador himself in his throne-like chair, listening to a man tell him something in hushed whispers. After you enter the room, the man stops and the woman that led you here bows deeply to her master and without another word walks off.

Briefly you glance in her direction, perplexed by such behavior, but you turn back to Cazador and see him wave the man away. When he passes you after bowing as well, you notice his glowing eyes. Another spawn. Looks like the Vampire Lord quickly grew his coven since sacrificing thousands of them for more power.

“So you have come.” He says, not exactly a greeting but you don’t mind.

“You wanted me to come. Care to explain why I’m here?” you ask with irritation clear in your voice as you approach the few stairs that elevate his seat above the ballroom floor. When you’re closer you see Cazador’s relaxed body language, his arrogant smirk and eyes, narrowed, as his gaze inspects you from head to toe.

“You haven’t changed much.” Every word coming out of his mouth sounds like mockery and your frown deepens at that.

“I’m not exactly out there looking to get my eyes plucked out.” You snap back, making vampire rise his eyebrows in feigned surprise.

“Really? And here I thought that without protection of your father you’d soon end up in a ditch somewhere.” He taunts and you ball your fingers into fists, trying to keep your temper in check, but your tail betrays you as it swishes behind you in couple clearly annoyed movements. “Now, now, no need for your attitude, Bhaalspawn.”

“I’m not a Bhaalspawn anymore.” You immediately shoot back and Cazador chuckles, rising from his chair and for a moment you are taken aback by his height and the imposing stature that could cast a shadow over you like your worst nightmare if he chose to become one.

“No? What are we if not children of our fathers?” Szarr asks and takes one step, then another, heading towards you. “You may be free of his urges, but you will never be free of his legacy.” He grins as he speaks and you’re not sure if he is trying to anger you on purpose or is this what he truly thinks. But you do remember his speeches about family, you remember how he insisted that those he had doomed from the moment of creation are his children.

Maybe he’s not wrong.

“I didn’t come all the way here to talk about Bhaal.” You cross arms on your chest and tap your foot impatiently. His eyes give you a dangerous look for a split second before he stops in front of you with an eyebrow raised and arrogance etched in every pore of his face.

“Then maybe we should talk about how deliciously treacherous you are even to those who consider you a friend?”

For a moment - memories of countless betrayals flood your mind as if you’re flipping through a book written in sin, but then it quickly dawns on you.

“Astarion?” you rise your eyebrows, forgetting your annoyance for the time being and Cazador’s head bobs in a taunting gesture.

“Have you forgotten about the boy so quickly?” he asks and you roll your eyes now.

“Why would I remember him?”

Cazador only laughs in response and begins walking again.

“Come.” Is the only thing he says and confused you follow him with your eyes only before your legs start moving.

“What about him?” you can help but wonder while you trail Cazador, but the vampire seems not to care to answer your questions, only irritating you more. “Did you want me here just to talk about Astarion?” you try again, growing impatient with each step, not really caring to notice where he is leading you – to his study, the door that Astarion himself told you no spawn were ever allowed to pass, except this time the door is ajar with cold invitation.

“Shut up for a moment, you idiot girl!” Cazador snaps back at you and you grit your teeth.

“I just want an answer.” You reply and that makes Szarr stop and spin to you, his eyes narrow this time not from amusement but from anger.

“Stop your yapping before you regret it.” He threatens like you’re one of his servants and stares straight into your eyes that are defiant and furious, but for reason unknown even to yourself – you remain silent. “Better.” Cazador doesn’t seem to be actually pleased, his temper was always easy to provoke, and it’s clear you nearly did just that so maybe that’s why you instinctively obeyed. After all, Cazador is the Vampire Ascendant, who knows what he can do besides walking in the sun’s rays, which you confirmed for yourself when you watched him pass the windows just moments ago.

Couple seconds tick by as he looks you in the eyes, waiting for you to defy him again, but when that doesn’t come - his lips twitch in an emerging snarl that he manages to control in time, then turns from you again and passes the doorway. Wordlessly he gestures for you to get onto the dais and you pause, your eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“What’s down there?” you ask, not putting even a single toe on the platform just yet, and you hear Cazador push air through his nose, then he turns to you with a dangerous smile on his lips.

“You’ve been there before, you know what’s down there.”

“What I’m going to see there?” you ask again and Cazador waves his hand at you dismissively.

“I don’t remember you being so scared before.” He mocks with that same grin and you frown.

“I’m not scared, I’m being cautious. I haven’t forgotten what you are.”

“No, of course not. Now stop acting like a child and come.” He instructs with his voice clearly strained in attempt to be patient and you hesitate for a moment longer, then step onto the platform, keeping your distance from Cazador.

The moment you’re on it, the dais begins to move, lowering you and Cazador down. You look at him in a moment of silence, eyeing his expensive looking clothes, the doublet he’s wearing, the embroidery on it. Rats, like the ones on the massive steel door in front of the ballroom.

With a couple of lurches the dais finally comes to a stop and you look down the corridor that hasn’t changed even a bit since the day you brought Astarion back to Cazador. Betrayal, he says, but you don’t see it that way, you never did. You just did what you needed to do to gain a powerful ally so that you could get rid of the damned tadpole. Sure, you gambled, maybe Cazador could’ve changed his mind and killed you with Astarion, but no, he kept his end of the bargain and not only let you go, but also helped you out. Maybe he was wary of Bhaal still in your veins, maybe letting you go after the battle was over and you no longer carried the corrupted divine within you, was done not out of mercy or good will, but because he simply didn’t want to bother. You wonder if the vampire would answer if you asked him. You doubt it.

With the dais nestled in its landing spot, Cazador begins walking, his hands clasp behind his back as he strolls with pride towards the stairs that you know lead to the ritual chamber. Your head swivels as you inspect the dungeon, but you don’t see any change whatsoever and the door that you know once led to Cazador’s private room, the one with Vellioth’s skull with which you had a pleasant chat, is closed with magic once again.

“Are you preparing for another ritual?” you can’t help but ask, feeling slightly awkward in silence that is only filled with yours and his footsteps, but as you now pass the empty cages scrubbed clean from blood, you realize that even if he is, it’s not the same one as the Rite of Profane Ascension.

Of course, why would it be.

“In a way.” Cazador’s reply is cryptic and his tone of voice drips with sarcasm. It puzzles you and you look at him for a moment before you have to watch your feet as you both begin to descend the steps.

The vampire doesn’t pause, just keeps leading you downwards. At one moment you have to duck as a swarm of bats fly right over your head but avoid the master himself, and when you are finally at the bottom of the stairs you see a familiar view – the ritual platform with his coffin still there. But Cazador doesn’t stop, he leads you forwards and you follow him, noticing the blood flowing beneath the golden grates, flowing towards direction of his coffin and giving it an eerie sanguine glow from below.

Your mouth opens, you want to ask another question, but finally the Vampire Lord stops right in the middle of the ritual circle. When you stop as well, you still see the infernal runes etched into the stone, now cold and still, unlike how they glowed when Cazador let you witness the birth of the Vampire Ascendant. It was a sight to behold, you have to give him that, the one you quite enjoyed as well. You always liked the smell of blood and that day the air was thick with it, as seven thousand and seven souls got sent straight to the hells.

All to make him a vampire unlike history has ever seen.

“Do you remember, Bhaalspawn, the moment of my Ascension?” Cazador asks and your eyes snap from the floor to his back. You see that his face is upturned and you glace upwards too, seeing the ceiling of the cavern. When your eyes land on the back his head, he spreads his arms as if reliving the greatest moment of his life. “Do you remember how he screamed before he died? How all of them screamed?”

You smile, of course you remember. You step closer to Cazador, sensing that he’s about to tell you the reason why you’re here.

“I do. It was beautiful. Magnificent.” You exhale at the memory, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment, your smile becoming wider. You remember clearly because you looked Astarion straight in the eyes as he screamed, as his body began to deform and as he eventually exploded, becoming nothing but a pile of guts on the ground by the end of it.

“You did me a favor then.” Cazador’s voice snaps you out of your memory and you open your eyes to find him now facing you, his look is curious because he most likely saw the ecstatic expression on your face and he most likely suspects what kind of memory brought that kind of expression about.

“It was beneficial for both of us. I got a powerful ally for the battle, you got to Ascend.” You give him a small shrug, trying to sound like it’s no big deal for you. And in truth – it wasn’t. You don’t have a single regret about giving Astarion away, because by the time you arrived to the city, the pale elf was beginning to get on your nerves, begging to be gutted somewhere on the side of the road.

“Maybe so, but not many would betray their allies, their friends.” Cazador tilts his head slightly to the side, a satisfied smirk on his lips and his hands by his sides – a perfect image of a non-threatening man, but you know better. Despite Astarion’s shortcomings you believe his stories about his master’s cruelty and short temper.

“He wasn’t a friend.” You correct Cazador and he raises an eyebrow at your words. “He was an ally of convenience. When that convenience came to an end – I made a new ally.” You now gesture to Cazador and he chuckles, a low, menacing sound that makes a shiver run down your spine and you’re not sure if out of caution or… something else.

“Delightful.” Szarr comments, his fangs looking as sharp as ever when he smiles or speaks, and you wonder how it would feel to be a vampire. You’ve been a Bhaalspawn already, surely being a vampire can’t be worse, but maybe under Cazador’s heavy boot – it can be. “Still, it’s rare to find… allies worth having, especially nowadays. And to find such ally in no other than a hero of Baldur’s Gate was a twist not even I have expected.”

“I’m a hero to peasants and idiots. I only did it to save myself.” You respond and surprisingly this makes Cazador laugh. It’s a slow, arrogant laugh, coming deep from his chest, and you find yourself blushing slightly because you don’t think you said anything funny.

“Isn’t that right.” He says and offers you his hand. You look at it, hesitating, not taking it. “Do you know how hard it is to find useful allies?” Cazador asks and the way he keeps using the word ‘allies’ makes you feel like he’s taunting you again for saying it earlier, but you ignore it. “And how much harder it is to find spawn who are worthy of serving?”

What?

Your eyes snap to Cazador’s face and the grin now looks less arrogant and more dangerous. Your mind begins to reel, putting the puzzle pieces together as he keeps talking, now making one careful step towards you, then another, a predator in action.

“One thing I overlooked the last time I saw you, was the influence you could have if I only had you at my disposal. Your word could sway even the Duke, I’m sure of it.”

Unknowingly you begin stepping backwards, your heart racing in your chest and your eyes widening the longer Cazador speaks.

“You want me to speak to the Duke?” you ask because you hope that it’s all he wants, but the unwavering grin on vampire’s face immediately tells you that’s not the whole truth.

“Yes. As my spawn.”

Immediately your eyes narrow. Fight or flight - you choose the former. You always do.

Your knees bend in preparation for a leap, your claws ready to slash and rip, and you jump towards Cazador, seeing his face, aiming for his throat. You denied Bhaal, you won’t be enslaved by another demi-god wannabe.

But the moment your feet leave the stone underneath as you vault yourself at your sudden enemy, he makes just one step forward and with a single strike with the side of his clenched fist he brings you down, your back slamming onto the ground with a thud that pushes air out of your lungs.

You attempt to scramble to your feet before you feel a kick to the side and you cry out from pain.

“I knew you would fight, that’s why I didn’t proceed to turn you up there. You can make such a mess from what I have heard.” Cazador ridicules you and with a huff you try to get up again but another kick to the same side takes your breath away once more, especially so because this time the kick is strong enough to make your body rise in the air and turn, landing you on your stomach.

You hear his laughter, cruel and cold, while you get to your hands and knees, trying to crawl away now. Fear, something you have long forgotten, begins to grip at your chest. Fear that you’re not leaving this dungeon alive.

But before you can get any further, your chest slams into the hard stone again as Cazador pushes you down with his boot on your back, sharp heel of it digging painfully into your spine and you wince.

“Let me go!” you shout, your voice disappearing into the air without even an echo, and the vampire just chuckles, the weight of his boot increasing as he leans down. You gasp when you feel him grab one horn and yank your head back so that he can look you in the face.

“Oh Bhaalspawn, you have no power to fight me.” Cazador jeers with sly boasting in his every word. “Although I don’t think you would be able to fight me even if you were still your father’s rabid lapdog.” He chuckles and pulls harder on your horn, making your spine bend in an arch that makes your muscles tremble from pain.

“Stop!” you cry out now, desperate to be released and your tail moves as if on its own, wrapping around his wrist that holds your horn, but with other hand he quickly grabs it and yanks on it so hard you hear an unpleasant crunch.

You yell at the sensation, tears gathering in your eyes and you wait for worse to come, maybe Cazador really breaking your tail, but he suddenly releases both and you collapse onto the floor panting and sweating, your body screaming at you with pain that radiates through every tendon.

“Stop.” You beg this time, your eyes heavy lidded as you try to recover and a trail of saliva leaks out of the corner of your mouth because you can’t seem to close it, still gasping for air.

“No, not yet. I need you to realize something.” Cazador’s boot lifts from your back but you can’t move, not yet, you need couple seconds more, maybe then you have another fighting chance against the monster that so easily lured you down here.

“What?” you ask, hoping that if you have him talking - he won’t be as vigilant about your possible attempt at escape.

“That I prefer my spawn obedient.”

Before you can truly realize what’s going on, you hear fabric rip and only a moment later you comprehend that it’s your dress that is being ripped. You rise your head, quickly lifting yourself on your hands and look back in horrified awe as you watch three mage hands tear your clothes away. Even your bag gets tossed aside and skids nearly off the edge of the platform.

“You bastard!” You shout and get to your knees, trying to stand up but one of the mage hands moves quickly and pushes your chest down to the floor just like Cazador’s boot did before.

Instead of words, an arrogant chuckle first reaches your ears as you make a sound of angry frustration, your claws scraping at the stone as you try to lift yourself and simply can’t. Your hips in the air provide an easy angle for the magical limbs to remove last of your clothing. Before Cazador speaks you feel even your shoes being dragged off your feet, leaving you completely and utterly naked in front of him.

“You will learn to address me appropriately, but I’ll ignore it this once.” He says like it’s a mercy he’s granting you and you clench your teeth for a moment. Your face is burning with shame at being exposed like this and your tail tries to swat the other two mage hands that are holding your hips in place and in the air.

Suddenly your tail gets caught and by the cold touch you can tell it’s Cazador himself that has snatched it again. Then he yanks it upwards, making the base of it bend painfully once more. You cry out from the sensation, trying to scramble away or at least alleviate the suffering in your vertebrae, but you can’t, the spectral hands are holding you better than chains would.

“Wet already? I suspected someone like you might enjoy pain.” Cazador mocks and you freeze, your eyes widening with horror. He can’t be right, can he?

And yet when you feel his finger a sharp point of his nail trace along your slit you know he didn’t lie, you feel your arousal being smeared on your skin and you blush heavily. Partially from anger and partially because you feel the unwelcome sensation of desire beginning to burn below your stomach.

“It means nothing!” You shoot back with your teeth clenching immediately after you finish your sentence, because Vampire Lord starts inserting one digit into your cunt. You whine because slow penetration of his sharp nail feels dangerous, too close to real damage for it to be comfortable and sensual, he would just need to curl his finger and you would bleed.

“Nothing? I think it means everything. Lost without your father, an aimless daughter, wandering the land with no purpose. I’ll give you that purpose.” Cazador’s tone loses the mocking undertones because they get replaced with strange possessiveness.

His finger proceeds to embed itself in your body to the knuckle and you grind your jaw with both fury and fear. Fury because he has you at his mercy, fear because you know he’s a master at inflicting pain, more pain than you know you could handle. “But first you need to be shown that you ought to serve.”

The finger moves in your cunt slowly, one thrust, two, three, then Cazador pulls it out and your body relaxes. You didn’t even notice until now how firmly you were clenching around his digit, as if in hopes to prevent him from harming you. But your tail gets released too and you move it down, to try and cover yourself at least in this small, insignificant way, wrapping the end of it around your own leg in a way to comfort yourself.

But then you hear footsteps as Cazador walks around you in just three of them. At first you only see his shoes and pants, then your horn gets gripped again, your head yanked backwards and your nails try to cling to slippery, polished stone to no avail. And then your eyes meet the crimson gaze of his, you see the ever-present smirk on his face and you grimace from pain when the vampire makes your neck arch uncomfortably.

“Open your mouth.” He commands and you pause for a second, your eyes widening again for a brief moment before you frown even more. You press your lips together and now see Cazador’s own frown spelling danger as he glares at you. “I said open. Don’t make this difficult.”

You don’t listen, you don’t want to listen, you don’t have to listen. Even if you are aroused that doesn’t mean you will obey his every command, that’s not who you are and he should know better. As you glare back at him, still with one magical hand pressing your chest painfully to the ground, you barely pay attention to other two such hands. One keeps your hips up, but second one moves without you noticing, and then it makes you cry out. You feel ghostly fingers, two of them, thrust themselves into your cunt and then another one – right into your other hole.

You cry out and thus you open your mouth. With a sly grin Cazador shoves a finger into your maw, rubbing it against your tongue and you immediately taste yourself. His eyes gleam with conceit the moment realization comes to you and you flush harder, you simply can’t help it. The spectral hand begins to thrust its fingers into your holes and you mewl because the vampire makes you suck on his own digit. Maybe instinctively, maybe because you really want this, you do as he wishes, wrapping your lips around his finger and swirling your forked tongue, cleaning his skin from remnants of yourself.

“Perhaps you will be a fast learner.” Cazador muses as if to himself, watching you suck on his finger like it’s your newfound religion. “We shall see.”

You turn your gaze away from him and try not to moan, your throat swallowing the saliva that’s quickly pooling in your mouth around his finger. It’s hard keep quiet and your tail wraps around your leg tighter in a reminder to not give in, but you can barely hold on as is. Something about how Cazador is treating you is making every muscle in your body uncoil and every nerve in your brain dull from desire. The ghostly fingers work your holes and you shiver, feeling moisture dripping down your inner thigh from your body submitting itself to the pleasure despite your mind commanding it not to.

Suddenly Cazador pulls his finger from between your lips and you gasp, instinctively following it with your mouth but how he’s gripping your horn prevents you from moving more than an inch. He scoffs, as if judging you for your eagerness, and releases your horn, letting your chin drop to the cold floor, then straightens his back. Vampire’s eyes flick to the side of you and you moan when the spectral fingers retreat, leaving your body with a sensation of emptiness. Realization of just how much you enjoyed this torment crashes on you like a wave and you blush like you haven’t in your life before.

“So this is your plan? To fuck me into submission?” you ask, still unable to look at him, and Cazador scoffs again, but this time louder and with surprise you feel the mage hands releasing you.

With shaky arms you begin to push yourself upwards, seeing Vampire Lord’s shoes still in front of you before you rise your eyes.

“That’s enough of a plan for a feral animal such as yourself.” His words cut you deeply and you grit your teeth, slowly getting on all fours because your strained muscles scream from tension even when you unwrap your tail from around your own thigh.

“How dare you-“ your words get stuck in your throat when a hand appears in front of you and grips your neck with such speed that you barely see it.

Your eyes widen and you gasp couple times for air, unable to inhale, feeling how the magical hand pulls you by your neck upwards, making you kneel. Your fingers shoot to your throat, trying to grasp at the ghostly hand that is utilized not unlike a collar in this moment, but then the other two grab your wrists and bend your arms with no regard for your pain. You grunt with frustration and effort to fight them, but to no avail, soon your hands are pinned to the small of your back and you snarl at Cazador, who’s smug expression is beginning to drive you crazy.

When you’re finally wrangled into position he obviously envisioned for you, the grip on your throat relents and you inhale deeply, nearly beginning to cough, greedily sucking air into your lungs because you don’t know if you will be forbidden it again.

“Down.” Cazador commands and you narrow your eyes at him, your lips parted and your teeth clenched so hard you can hear them near squeak from pressure.

“Caz-“

“DOWN, YOU DOG!” He suddenly bellows and you immediately sit, your naked rear pressing firmly to the stone, it sends a shiver through your body because of how cold it feels against your skin.

But the most terrifying thing is Cazador’s face. Full of fury, full of power. Your eyes widen because you sense something terrifying about him now, like a power that his body starts exuding because his emotions burst through. He waits for a moment longer, waiting for you to protest or talk back, but when you remain silent, with your heart beating fast in your chest and your entire body otherwise frozen in the moment, he lifts his arm and with a palm slicks back his hair. Couple of strands escaped his neat appearance when he shouted at you and he clearly will not allow this.

“If you act like a mongrel – I will treat you as such. Did Astarion tell you nothing?” he asks with irritation not disguised in his tone but he smirks again, composing himself once more and steps closer.

You keep watching his face with your breathing quick and shallow, your eyes trying to find any signs that might tell you if he’s about to show you rage again. You’re so focused on it that you don’t pay attention to how close Cazador is getting, his form towering over you and casting a shadow like an ominous sign. You want to tell him that you don’t understand why he’s doing it, but you do, you understand perfectly, because the chill that begins to seep into your bones from the stone floor make the realization abundantly clear to you.

Then the spectral hand around your throat tightens once again and you’re about to make a noise, to complain, maybe even bargain but before you can get one syllable out, you feel Cazador’s shoe between your legs, the nose of his boot pressing against your slit, smearing itself in your arousal and when you gasp in shock, the nose moves and rubs against your clit, pressing and rubbing against it too strong to be pure pleasure, but it’s pleasure nonetheless.

You press your lips into a thin line, embarrassed that this is enough to make you shiver with need and you look away from Cazador, turning your eyes to the side from his face and then flinch when he presses the boot against your sensitive nub harder, making you gasp.

“What do you want?” you ask, flicking you gaze back to your tormentor and Cazador grins widely, his eyes narrowing from genuineness of his expression.

“I want you to beg.”

The answer is simple but it takes a moment for you to process it. In your silence Cazador rubs his boot against your folds again and you cast your gaze down, shivering in response, watching black leather smear with your wetness. Cazador’s fingers grip your jaw, making you once again look up at him and he can see your heavy-lidded gaze. Despite your protests and defiance, your body and mind are succumbing to him, you know this too. With dread you realize that everything within screams to submit just as he wishes.

“You will beg, Bhaalspawn. And then I shall grant you one last mercy.” Vampire Lord speaks in half a whisper, his sharp nails digging into your skin.

“Mercy?” you ask because you can’t help yourself even though you suspect the answer already.

But Cazador doesn’t answer, he just grins at you.

“Open.” He commands like he did just earlier and you hesitate for a moment but slowly part your lips for him. Last time he shouted, this time he might not be as lenient in his displeasure. “Good, girl, good. You’re beginning to learn faster than I anticipated.” It’s not a compliment, not a praise, not really, more like small encouragement for you to keep obeying him or else.

While still holding your jaw, Cazador uses his other hand to raise it to your face, index finger extended, and then he puts it in your mouth. You wait, unsure what to expect when it presses your tongue down and you keep looking him in the eyes, seeing that sinister satisfaction spell danger. And then pain comes.

Vampire’s finger curls and you whine when his nail pierces your tongue, almost pinning it to the bottom of your mouth. You tremble but don’t move, frozen from sudden shock and agony that envelops your orifice in full. Blood quickly pools around your tongue and his finger, warm and coppery, and you feel it begin dripping down your chin, maybe it’s dripping down his hand too, you can’t see, your eyes now locked on the man in front of you.

Yet without a word he yanks his hand away like he’s suddenly disgusted by you, his grip leaving your jaw as well and you watch him straighten his back and look at his bloody hand just before you dip your head down and spit the blood on the floor with a painful shiver. Your tongue feels both throbbing from agony and numb at the same time, but when you glance at Cazador again, you watch him silently as he sticks out his own tongue and drags a bloody finger against it, satisfaction clouding his gaze for just a moment. Godsdamn vampire.

When his eyes flick to you they narrow, and you are not sure what to expect now, maybe more pain as you swallow the next mouthful of blood instead of spitting it out, but then his eyes sweep over your naked form and stop at the bottom. His shoe, still pressed between your legs, remain there for a second longer, then he pulls it back.

“Clean it.” He demands and with your head swimming from pain, you take another second to comprehend his words. In your confusion you don’t see his still bloody hand raise, you don’t register as he first swings it back, then towards you.

When his slick from crimson palm connects with your cheek you cry out, your head snapping to the side with force, your hair spilling over your face and more blood drip past your lips. Before you can gather your bearings, your hair is gripped, your head is pulled back, most of the hair falls away but some stick to bloody skin of your face and you gasp once, your swimming vision trying to anchor itself on something but before even that can happen, Cazador’s lips crash against yours.

You can barely understand what’s going on, but you feel him kiss you, the action more punishing than passionate, but you’re not sure of anything anymore. You whine at the back of your throat when his tongue enters through your parted lips and laps at the blood coating the inside of your mouth. The spectral hands tighten around you as if to make sure you don’t move even an inch without Cazador’s permission and you tremble, your body responding to the kiss on its own, your forked tongue caressing his and you hear him hum as if in approval or maybe it’s his own desire stirring at last.

Vampire Lord’s face then leans away from you, his eyes studying your face, the blood smeared on your cheek and chin and dripping down your neck. Your lips smeared in life’s ichor, just as his are, and he releases your jaw, his back straightening again.

“I said clean it.” Cazador repeats the command and your gaze follows his when it drops down, to the smeared leather of his shoe.

You glance up at him again, then down again, and feel the mage hand on your throat finally release you, bruised spots where the spectral fingers held throbbing with sore relief. You begin to bend down, the other two mage hands letting you do so even though they remain holding your wrists behind your back. You try to move your knees, position yourself so that you don’t drop face-first onto the marble the moment you get lower, and with the help of your tail you succeed.

The boot is right in front of your face now and you pause, swallowing heavily and still tasting blood when you do so, but you hang your wounded tongue out and begin using it, cleaning the shoe where you see moistness of your cunt dirtying his expensive footwear. Again you taste yourself, but this time leather too, and you make sure that everything is clean before you stop. When you do – you finally feel the remaining two mage hands disappear and you immediately move your hands, pressing your palms against the cold stone underneath you, as you feel your wrists throb in pain too.

“Good.” Cazador hums again, the boot disappears from your field of vision and you’re sure he’s inspecting your handiwork for a moment before he proceeds with a new way to make you submit. And while everything in you is telling you to do as he pleases, it will hurt less, it will be less degrading, but there’s still a part of you, the Bhaalspawn part that Cazador himself spoke to you about in a room just above, in the ballroom.

That part wants to put a fight, to try and escape, to run from him and to return later to kill him, if that’s even possible to someone like you, without dark powers of your father protecting you and making you a formidable enemy in battle. That matters none right now, details can be figured out later, first you just need to escape.

Slowly you rise yourself on your hands and look up at Cazador, watching him watch you, his gaze completely unreadable but the little smirk, as always tugging at his lips, tells you that he’s not done with you, not even close.

But then opportunity presents itself. The vampire turns his back to you, walking to his coffin for a brief moment and you quickly look around, seeing your discarded clothes tossed about the ritual platform, and you decide that you don’t care if you run naked. Silently and carefully you being to turn your body to the staircase that leads up to the dais, to your salvation. With a corner of your eye you keep watch on Cazador as he does something, you’re not sure what, his back covering whatever his hands are doing, but the moment comes when you have to focus on your plan and you look at the grand stair, wondering if you can be faster than a Vampire Ascendant or not.

You frown, ignoring the pain in your knees and wrists, ignoring the throbbing of your tongue and already swollen from the hit cheek, ignoring the humiliation that makes your insides clench from both anger and secret desire that you don’t want to acknowledge even to yourself, not yet at least, but you begin to rise from your hands and knees, preparing to sprint the moment your feet touch the ground, your tail taunt like an arrow.

The second you begin to rise, one knee still on the ground, you feel cold fingers wrap around your throat from behind, pulling your body backwards until your spine presses against Cazador’s chest. A small breath against your ear as your face becomes a mask of shock and fear, you didn’t even hear him get closer.

“Where do you think you’re going, disobedient pup?” he mocks and his nails dig into your skin, piercing it, making you wince.

Your hands fly to your throat, grasping at his fingers and wrist but failing to really get a grip, scratching his skin and leaving marks. You hear Cazador hiss with disapproval against your ear and then his fingers release you.

Immediately you scramble forwards but not for longer than a second before you feel your horns being gripped and pulled at. You have no choice but to clamber after the movement, trying to keep up, before you feel yourself being pulled off the ground. You yell in pain and terror, your fingers trying to make Cazador release his grasp on you, your tail swishing wildly, looking for something to hold onto when weight of your own body begins to pull you down, giving a feeling like your horns are being ripped out of your head. Tears gather in your eyes and spill down your face, leaving clean streaks on the blood-smeared skin. You see the promise of escape, the many steps that you took just to come here, for a moment longer, before your whole body is spun and flung.

You find yourself flying through the air for a split second before you crash to the ground with a painful thud and skid slightly, your talons wildly grasping at the floor until you come to a stop. Panting, you lift your head and see the looming shape of Cazador’s coffin facing you. You whine when you try to get up, your body now feeling bruised and sore all over, your skull throbbing around the horns, and you choke out a sob, finally and fully realizing that there’s no escape for you, not from him, not from Cazador Szarr.

This time you hear him walking closer, his boots sounding heavier than the weight of all the sins you have committed, and you look back at him, real terror reflected in your eyes as you see his smile that promises no salvation.

“Stop.” You beg this time, your lips tremble, your whole body is shaking and tears keep spilling down your face, running down your neck and to your chest. You’re unable to move even if you wish to, petrified when the weight of the situation finally catches up with you.

“You’ll have to do better than this.” Cazador taunts, he’s right behind you now and you expect more pain. A kick, a hit, maybe this time a broken bone, a ripped-out horn, mangled flesh.

But instead you see him kneel with one knee behind you, as if you’re a wounded dog he’s approaching with caution, but you remain frozen, still on all fours, not sure what he wants from you now.

“Come.” He offers you his hand and your eyes flick to it, then his eyes, trying to read vampire’s intentions, trying to understand what he wants to do to you now, but no answer comes. His expression looks almost kind, deceivingly so. “Come, I said.” Cazador’s tone grows harsher and you know by now that you have only a second to obey.

So you obey. You turn on all fours, not unlike the wounded dog he sees in you at this moment, and glance at his extended hand again, but before you can move closer and take it, Cazador moves and sits on the ground, splaying his legs, one hand behind him, palm pressed to the stone for support, and his other hand, now instead of being offered to you, waves at you, invitingly.

“Come.” A third command, empty of any tone indication and you get closer, crawling to him with fear in your heart and blood drumming in your ears. At least your tears stopped, for now.

You hesitate as you get close, but Cazador’s eyes remain unreadable while he pats his thigh as if you’re a pet. You obey again. By now you know that you have no choice.

“Turn around.” He mutters to you almost softly when you begin to search for a position to sit between his legs and you follow this command as well, turning around even though your sore body does not want to easily listen. Everything hurts but with resignation you sit.

The moment you do, you feel Cazador’s palms on your shoulders, pulling your back against his chest, then one arm wraps around your waist.

“Do you see it?” he asks and you look in front of you, seeing his stone coffin rise above you both, like a monument to vampire’s immortality.

“Yes.” You whisper after you swallow a lump in your throat. Talking hurts, your tongue is still radiating with pain, but you try your best as you sit on the ground, leaning against Cazador’s chest, your hands in your lap and your thighs pressed together for that last bit of dignity you pretend still having.

Sitting like this with him is not uncomfortable. You smell blood and a hint of decay, something you became familiar with when hanging around Astarion, but with Cazador this smell has become alluring. Despite your pain you grow aroused again, this time the fire in your abdomen is so hot it feels like it’s searing your skin from the inside. You press your thighs tighter but that doesn’t go unnoticed by the vampire. He doesn’t continue the thought he had, instead moving his head to look at your legs.

“Open them.” He says and you try not to obey, but your body listens even before your mind succumbs and you part your legs, smelling your arousal, seeing it glisten on your inner thighs and you hear Cazador scoff. “You’re easier than I thought, besides your rebellious streak that I will beat out of you sooner or later.”

He hums against your ear and his hand leaves your shoulder, his fingers now landing on your stomach, gently tracing down, and you almost squirm because you want him to touch you. Thoughts of danger swim in your head but you shove them away, not now, not again, and your own fingers grip the flesh of your thighs as Cazador’s hand slips lower, over your pubic bone and then-

The moment his fingers slip to your clit you exhale with pleasure, your eyelids drooping from the sensation that your body gets overwhelmed with.

“Do you like it?” the vampire suddenly asks against your ear the moment you lean your head back against his chest and you shiver.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

You don’t reply but his fingers compel you as they begin to massage and circle your clit. He plays with your folds for a moment, your wetness making his strokes easier, slicker. He traces your slit and then rubs your pleasantly throbbing nub again, making your legs quiver and your tail wrap around his shin. You don’t see how his eyebrows rise at this, but even if you did you wouldn’t care.

“Yes, master.” You finally succumb and you see the coffin in front of you, wondering for a briefest of moments if you will get one of your own.

“That’s a good girl. You learn fast. I knew you were a right choice, I just needed to break you.” Cazador chuckles against your cheek, the tone of his laugh menacing and arrogant, but even that you now find alluring, sensual in its own way.

Sweat begins to bead your skin, slipping down the ridges of your tiefling body and you tremble again. Cazador is better at this than you would’ve assumed, your pleasure is building fast, moving like a slippery snake inside of you as his fingers work you to your pleasure deliberately and precisely. Then you have an urge to see him, to see the man who so easily made you submit, and you move your head, your eyes finally finding vampire’s face and notice that his expression is calmer and less malicious, his eyelids heavy as he gives you a glance that washes over you like a sea of crimson.

No words get exchanged, no permission is given, but you move, twisting your body so that you can swiftly move one hand to the back of his neck and lean Cazador’s face to you only for you to capture his lips in a kiss. He doesn’t resist and doesn’t stop you, kissing you back in a slightly reserved manner at first, but then giving in. His tongue grazes over your sharp teeth the moment you part your lips, and you do the same, exploring his fangs, knowing that soon they will mark you as his forevermore.

Cazador’s fingers toy with your cunt, but then falter, you feel his own arousal, his hardness press between your back and him, and you can’t help but want it, need it even, to feel it, maybe you always wanted him, maybe you at last give in to the desire you carried within you from the moment you saw him. Maybe you hoped for this the moment you offered to give him his spawn back.

Maybe it’s finally coming true.

Unexpectedly now, Cazador moves his hand from your waist and pushes you forward, making you slip over the smooth stone from him. His fingers leave your drenched cunt and you whine with despair, trying to turn to him, to try to kiss him again, but when you glimpse at his hands, you see that the Vampire Lord is now fumbling with his clothes, his hard cock quickly emerging from the fabrics he’s wearing and you swallow at the sight like you’re an animal in heat. A promise of pleasure instead of pain, you want it, you need it.

Cazador’s hand tugs at your waist again, your back pressing to his chest once more, and you whine with no shame, expressing your temporary disappointment.

“Take it.” He commands, the words being the permission and a guarantee you are craving for.

It takes only a moment for you to plant your feet to the floor and your palms on Cazador’s thighs as you lift yourself. His arm around your waist helps you lift yourself even higher and when you look down you see his hard length ready to impale you. You bite your lower lip and watch vampire’s other hand grip the base of his cock, ready for you to take it in. So you do, lowering yourself upon it as if you were made for this moment and this moment alone.

When you feel his soft tip nudge at your entrance and then slip inside with ease - you moan, your body trembling in delightful response. You keep sinking upon his cock, letting it enter you, letting it stretch you, and you moan louder the deeper you insert him into yourself. Finally, when you take him in full, you sigh loudly.

“Such a needy whore.” Cazador taunts but you don’t care, you begin to move.

It’s difficult to ride him like this but you try your best, making sure that your feet won’t slip and even put one of them on his thigh for better support. You gasp every time you are impaled again, but seems Cazador is impatient with your clumsy attempt to find a good position, because you hear him grunt, something between annoyance and pleasure of his own, and then his arm wrap under your other thigh, the one still on the ground, while his free hand grips over the inner thigh of your propped up leg.

“Incompetent, even in this.” Vampire grunts and begins to move you, making your body rise and fall so much faster and so much harder. You hurry to find purchase with your hands but the only thing you can do is twist them just enough so that you can weakly grab onto his shoulders behind you.

Your moans become louder and at first you look at the imposing coffin in front of you, but then lower your gaze to watch yourself getting fucked, his cock glistening with your arousal, leaking down his balls that swing every time you are brought down upon his length. You moan and shudder, your eyes locked on the sight, and your tail is still squeezing his thigh as he uses you to pleasure himself. Cazador’s grunts are like a most wonderful song against the side of your face, and you let your eyes close as you begin to feel your climax approaching.

Just as you begin to grasp at the strands of your bliss, your body beginning to tighten in Cazador’s grip, he suddenly pushes you off, making you fall chest first onto the ground. You gasp, confused and shocked, and your mind is bleary from pleasure still radiating through your body that’s begging for it to be prolonged. You only glance behind your shoulder to watch Cazador get up, hold his pants with one hand and with other he grabs your hair, yanking you upwards until you somehow manage to find your feet planted onto the floor.

“Cazador-“ you start, forgetting that he wants you to call different now, and you pay the price for your transgression as you are marched some steps forward and the side of your face gets slammed against the rough stone of his coffin. It feels like your bone cracks from the impact and you cry out, but then moan when Cazador plunges his cock into your cunt again.

“You will address me appropriately, girl.” He grunts right against your ear, his height so imposing that he needs to crane his head down to do that.

“Yes, master!” You cry out enthusiastically, your body shivering when he begins to plow into you with no concern for your pain.

His thrusts are rough, demanding and relentless as he fucks you against his coffin, your chest pressed painfully against the stone, your skin scraping against the sharp edges of it, making you bleed, but you feel none of this. Consumed by your lust, you grip onto the side of the coffin and hold on as if for dear life as he pounds into you. Cazador holds you down by your hair but his other hand comes into your view when he presses it palm-first onto the surface next to your face, his nails scratching at the rough texture of it.

You hear him pant and grunt as if he’s performing a task and not chasing his pleasure, maybe in his mind it’s both, but you don’t stop to think about it, in fact you don’t think at all, letting your body succumb to the pleasure while your tail once more wraps around his leg.

“Say it again.” Cazador demands and you have to wet your lips with your sore tongue before you are able to answer him.

“Yes, master!” you cry out again, your mind begins to swim as your climax approaches you and you cry out loudly with his every thrust, feeling your spine arch and bend as your body prepares you for pleasure.

“Never forget this.” Vampire Lord hisses and his grip in your hair tightens before you suddenly shout the moment his fangs pierce your neck.

In a moment you hear him swallow a mouthful of your blood and then he moans against your skin, his thrusts becoming erratic, but the coldness of his cock doesn’t stop you from realizing that he began to spill himself deep inside of you. You wail from both pleasure and pain, then feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as your climax takes you, making you shudder and spasm as Cazador’s slowing thrusts help you ride out your pleasure to the fullest.

When he finally stops, you are left trembling, with your knees weak, your body sore and your head dizzy. And then the pain returns, the one in your neck, so sharp and so overwhelming, that it nearly erases any traces of pleasure you just felt. Tears gather in your eyes once more and you whine as if begging for him to be gentler, and it’s like Cazador understands.

He leans his head back, releasing your throat from his bite, and then leans to the side to look at your face. You see his smug expression and blood painting his lips. Without a warning he releases you, pulling you back and roughly turning you around, harshly gripping your throat so that you don’t crumple to the floor at his feet. Cazador smirks as he watches your sweaty, bruised and bloody face, and you can feel the coldness of his seed beginning to leak down your inner thigh, a mark you haven’t expected from him but do not find it unwelcome.

“Maybe I’ll keep you alive for a little while longer.” Vampire’s gaze sweeps over your form, some sort of idea obviously just occurred to him, and you wonder what he means before he presses a palm to your lower stomach. “Maybe you can serve in a different way first, before I turn you into a spawn.” He muses and it takes you a moment or two until you realize what he means.

You try to speak but he finally releases your throat and you fall to the ground with a gasp. When you lift your head to him, your hair spilling around your face and your eyes still betraying your dazed state, he suddenly leans over you and caresses your cheek with a grin, his thumb smearing your tears over your swollen skin.

“Even cattle have their uses.”

With that his touch leaves you and you watch him button up his pants, then straighten out his shirt, not giving even a glance in your direction.

“I advise you don’t try to run, girl. There’s no escape for you anymore.” He chuckles and turns on his heel, then stops for a moment. “Get back upstairs when you can walk, ask someone to show you where you will be staying from this point on. I’ll call for you when I want to see your face again.” Cazador’s words are curt, cutting and insulting at the same time, and you flush as you watch him slick back his hair with one palm. He’s waiting for something.

“Thank you, master.” You whisper with your throat dry and your tongue painfully swollen, but you hear him exhale, satisfied with your response, then he walks off, climbing the stairs and leaving you behind, his footsteps not leaving even an echo in the vast cave surrounding you.

Exhausted, in pain and yet trembling from pleasure at the same time, you remain sitting on the floor, trying to understand what happened, how it happened and why. But before long, the chill of the stone begins to seep into your bones and you get up, gathering your scattered clothes and putting them on slowly, carefully, being mindful of your aching body.

And you smile.

You can’t help smiling widely, like you never smiled before. You better hurry up and find where you will be staying from this point on. Excitement clutches at your chest as you begin to climb the same stairs Cazador used just earlier.

Maybe this is the purpose you were looking for all along. To belong to someone. Maybe you don’t know any other life, but it’s not that you mind this. What happened was everything you ever wanted and more. And so much more still awaits in the future.

You feel excited.