#hobgoblin smut

[dark-moonlust]

The Elf and the Hobgoblins-Part 1

Pairing: 4 goblins x elf fem reader

Summary: you are mated to four hobgoblins. You live together with your hobgoblin mates in a cabin in the woods. It’s a very snowy day and your mates know just how to take care of you.

Pairing: MINORS DON'T INTERACT, this is filthy 18+!!!!, secret relationship, group intimacy (males only with fem reader), size kink, oral (males receiving), orgasm denial, stimulation, anal teasing and fingering, big 🍆, use of lube/oil, lots of 💦.

It was snowing. Again.

Sitting by the window in the cabin, chin on your hand, you watched the snow fall and blanket the woods in a fresh layer of white. You smiled at the little snowflakes scraping at the window. At the corner of the room, a fire crackled in the hearth, infusing it with warmth.

You weren’t alone. Your four hobgoblin mates were also snowed in with you.

Your mating bond was precious and unique.

Most would find it strange, even scandalous. Four goblins and an elf. An unlikely group by any standard. But over time, you’d become heavily bonded and in need of each other. You loved them, and they loved you—adored you, actually. The connection you shared was deep; a mating bond explicitly intimate and for the time being, kept secret from both your tribes. The elf tribe would never forgive you for this… it was why you lived so far from civilization, in a cottage deep in the forest far away from the lands of your people.

Turning, you gazed at your four hobgoblin mates. Gruk, Thrak, Grogo and Nix. Their big bodies made the room feel small. They were all nearly two heads taller than you, their sheer size and presence impossible to ignore. Each of them was strong and powerful, with huge muscled bodies designed for both combat and protection. They had teeth that gleamed white in the firelight, their eyes shining in yellowish hues. Wearing nothing but dark embroidered trousers you had sewed for them, they had similar physiques but unique features that set them apart.

Gruk had rusty-brown fur and was the group's most grumbling member. His long hair was a silken mass of brown strands braided elaborately and secured with one of your golden elastics. Thrak was demanding and bold, with dark-gray skin, his fur shorter. His long, black hair was braided into many tight braids and tied off with one of your scarves. He carried himself confidently, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth.

Grogo stood out because of his red skin. He could be both sweet and commanding. His fur was also crimson, coarse yet well-kept, highlighting the muscles beneath. His thick black braid was secured with one of your velvet ties. Lastly, there was Nix, the tallest of them, his skin a dark green. He was watchful, always aware. He had long black hair styled in an intricate braid that fell down his back, again fastened with silk ties you had gifted him.

Their long braids signified their might as warriors and wearing your hairbands, showed off their proud place as your mates. It was one of the hobgoblin traditions. Mates had to wear something from one another. Your mates had also gifted you something; they’d gathered strands of their strong hair, braided them, and magically created a necklace for you, with a precious iridescent teardrop stone dangling from it.

It was a very special gift and you always wore it proudly around your neck.

The storm had started a week ago and your mates were doing excellent work keeping the cabin warm and well-stocked with wood. They went out frequently to clear the trails and seek for food. They also kept you entertained and claimed you at least once a day, always insisting on claiming you together — filling your every hole, then watching their seed trickle down.

They were strong possessive beasts with incredible stamina and you loved them so much.

Cheeks hot, you rubbed your thighs together at the memories of the night before. They’d fucked you good and deep, then let you sleep while they went out to hunt and clean the house. You awoke early in the morning, took a bath to clean off the dried seed from your skin, then summoned your elven powers to defend the local homes and people from evil.

After that, you’d attempted to assist with the cleaning and chores but your mates refused. They rarely allowed you to do housework, and when you did, they were furious with you. They were stubbornly committed to serving you, and the only work they let you do was sew their clothes, braid their hair, and take their cum.

Such diverse activities.

This morning, however, you felt extremely warm and wet, once again in need of your mates. You had done everything you could to pass the time and ignore your treacherous body. You didn't want to appear selfish by asking for more... they already did so much for you. You were becoming dangerously dependent on them, enjoying the feel of their arms around you and their dicks inside you.

"Hmm… another white stormy day," you mumbled to yourself, drumming your fingers on the wooden ledge.

"Bored, mate?" Gruk said, from where he was sharpening a crude dagger.

"I believe I have run out of things to do. The forest’s filled with snow. I can’t go out.” You sighed heavily and leaned back in your chair. “We've been locked here for days, and there's only so many times I can practice my magic, sharpen my blade or play with you guys before I lose my mind."

Thrak, who had been sitting cross-legged near the fire, looked up. "Careful, mate. You are beginning to sound like one of us."

"Worse," Grogo commented with a smirk. "You're starting to complain more than Gruk."

"I never complain!" Gruk reacted but the grin on his face said differently. "I only state the obvious.” He gazed at you fondly. “And I doubt the storm will end soon, little mate. Our bodies can handle the merciless cold but going out in this weather is dangerous for you.”

Nix, your fourth goblin mate, fed another log to the fire and spoke, his sharp teeth catching the light. “I think you all like to complain.”

You couldn't help but smile at that. It was true that your goblins were a little grumpy.

“You know,” Grogo said after a pause, his eyes flicking over to you, “you don’t have to sit over there moping, little one.”

You sighed for the hundredth time. “I know, but even you lot can’t keep me entertained forever.”

Grogo chuckled. “Sounds like a challenge to me.”

“She’s underestimating us,” Nix agreed with a low growl. “It appears we aren’t stuffing our mate good and deep enough. Hm?”

“Oh, shush you…” you muttered, pressing your thighs closed, hoping that your scent didn’t reach their keen noses.

“Why not?” Grogo said, his amber eyes locked on you as he inhaled the air. Damn… he could tell you were aroused. All of them. “We are alone in a cabin, all five of us… and you’re clearly in need of a punishment.”

Gruk set his dagger aside, spreading his legs, his gorgeous cock tenting up from beneath his trousers. “Exactly. And we have the very thing for that.”

Thrak stood up, palmed his equally engorged dick over his pants before winking at the others. “Let’s get to work up boys.”

In a heartbeat, they surrounded you, their clawed hands ripping at your clothes, leaving you naked save for the necklace between your breasts. They kissed you one after the other, their tongues licking into your mouth and tasting your moans. Then they curved your frame on the large couch, hands pinned down, legs bent and spread. Thighs wide open, pussy and ass bare to their eyes. You were shamelessly wet with juices, both yours and theirs from last night's session. Despite having washed most of it off, their seed still dribbled out of your pussy and ass.

Your pulse quickened. “W…what are you doing?”

“You’re bored, mate,” Thrak said simply, licking the underside of one pert tit.

Nix and Grogo sat at your sides, their hands seizing your ankles and holding them wide. They ran their large thumbs over your pussy and opened the lips of your cunt, making wet squelching sounds but never getting close to your clit. You gave a hiss, your pussy clenching around nothing, your clit swollen and needy.

"Please...just…ghphhh—"

You cried out before a cock—Nix's—was forced into your mouth. Mouth opening fully, you took him in; he was inhumanly long and thick, the massive girth ringed by veins. You let your tongue swirl over the bulbous head and down the veins as it moved deeper, seeking to feel the tightness in your throat. His swollen balls rested at your neck, heavy and hot.

"That's it," Nix grunted, studying your face as he rolled his hips further, able to see your neck straining to take him in. "Suck it deep, little mate. Don't you dare become bored."

Grogo laughed at that before grabbing your hand and encircling your tiny fist around his stiff cock. His shaft was too thick for your hand to entirely wrap around, yet he delighted in your physical differences. He also enjoyed seeing Nix feed you his rod of a cock. You let out loud gurgling sounds as his dick pushed deeper, training you to relax your throat and take his shaft fully down your throat.

“Grfff—mphhh—gu—ys—” You tried to talk, but it all came out as an incoherent gurgle.

"Be a good girl and you’ll have more," Gruk said as he sucked one nipple, tugging hard enough to make you whine around Nix's cock.

“Damn, do that again. She’s sucking my cock so hard—”

Gruk hummed and all too eagerly wetted your other nipple, suckling fervently, his tongue swirling around your bud. Again, you let out a muffled cry, then nearly gagged around Nix’s cock. Nix had your arm trapped as he pistoned in your mouth, a hand tightly gripping your ankle as you flailed, barely able to move. Grogo was on the other side, similarly holding your other leg as he pumped his hot cock in your palm.

“Pl-mph—ease?” You choked, inwardly begging for them to stop with the foreplay and just make you cum.

Seeming to pity you, Thrak and Gruk stopped enjoying the show and squeezed in between your thighs, peppering your inner thighs with kisses. You mewled happily around Nix’s cock while Thrak licked a thick stripe from your cunt to your ass. Gruk did the same, consuming the juices that dripped from your tender holes.

Your thoughts scattered when Nix came with loud grunts, spurting down your throat in deep explosive pumps. You clenched your throat, swallowed every drop. With a sigh, Nix pulled his cock out of your mouth and allowed you to breathe. You didn't, however, get much rest. Grogo was next, turning your head, the head of his dick slipping past your lips and down your throat. He wasn’t very patient. He was just as thick and long as Nix, and you whined as he thrust back and forth, using your throat.

Meanwhile, Nix bent to suckle your breasts, nibbling on each nipple. Your chest rose and fell, muffled moans escaping you as they took turns using your mouth and fingering your cunt. They all released down your throat, made you swallow their cum but brought you to no climax. They only teased your clit for a few moments, stopping when you got too close.

“N-nneed to…cum,” you muttered, droplets of pearly seed trickling down the corner of your mouth. “I promise… I won’t say I’m bored again. Please!”

“Lately you always say you’re bored,” Gruk slapped your pussy lightly causing you to jerk and whine. “We take care of you every day, fuck your greedy holes, and yet here you are, claiming you are bored. That is a disgrace to all we do for you, little elf.”

Thrak gave a wet kiss to your needy clit. You whined. Still not enough. “Maybe we’re not trying hard enough. Not fucking her enough.“

“Hmm, I agree. I think we must fuck that boredom out of our mate,” Grogo said, his tongue licking the line of your neck.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate you,” you explained, your voice strained. “You know I do.”

“Do you?” Gruk said, his deep voice rumbling through the room.

“You know I do!” you said desperately. “I love you so much but lately… the bond feels too strong. I need more. I need you so much!”

They groaned proudly at your answer.

Gruk and the others felt so damn honored that you were their mate. Elves were special— they only mated with their kind. They were also made differently, with pristine, sculpted bodies that resembled living works of art. You were the most beautiful out of all of them, heart, body and soul. You were the most lovely elf they’d ever seen, and they fell in love with you at first sight. You were reluctant at first but eventually accepted their friendship, started something so deep neither of you had imagined.

You were gorgeous, pretty, smart and kind. Powerful, too, as you could cast some of the most badass spells they’d ever seen. Your body was just as beautiful, your breasts and nipples begging to be sucked, your pussy and throat flexible enough to receive the entire lengths of their dicks. The same went for your ass, it was always untainted and clean, no matter what you ate or drank.

You were able to take their monster cocks without harm. No one else could handle hobgoblin dick like you did.

Perhaps they did not deserve someone so precious; perhaps they were too hideous and lustful for you. But you'd embraced them, accepted them wholeheartedly, given them your heart. They'd done the same, become so attached to you that the very thought of being apart was agonizing.

“All in good time, love,” Nix smirked as he reached for the bottle of oil beside the table, his eyes narrowing slightly as he lubricated his fingers and poked the gaping bud of your ass. You whined, used to their fixation with your ass.

It was another hobgoblin thing; if their mate had a pouting gaping hole, it was a sign of how much they honored and loved them.

At first, you were hesitant to let them anywhere near your ass; you were a graceful elf, and being fucked in the ass was absurd and desecrated. The thought was horrible, but they’d trained you to accept it. Your hobgoblins loved to kiss, prod and fuck your ass, keeping your hole swollen for them.

And damn them, because you’d never expected to like it so much. Having them use your body so thoroughly, invading you, stretching you, filling you up with their seed.

Lately, your nipples and clit were throbbing constantly, your ass and pussy greedy to be filled at every moment of the day. You were a disgrace of an elf, a lewd creature of lust. You had tried to resist the need… fabricated boredom in order not to hide your slutty nature from your mates. But you no longer cared. You didn’t want them to think you were bored of them or their touch.

You loved them so much, in every wonderful, heated way.

Instinctively, you tightened your anal muscles as Nix drove his thick finger into your ass. You whimpered and all eyes turned to watch your face contract in pleasure as he pumped that finger in and out of your yielding flesh. Through half-lidded eyes, you saw the others adding the lubricant oil to their own fingers. Heat flowed through you, intense and demanding.

"You need more, hm? Look how wide your ass is, love. One finger and it’s barely tight,” Nix said, removing his digit to reveal your cute pouting hole. Damn, he loved the sight.

“That’s your fault!” you muttered, your holes clenching, in need to be filled. “Your fault… for stretching me out — then not fucking me enough.”

“We should have been more thoughtful, hmm?” Nix gently fondled your anal bud before pushing his thick finger back inside. “Hmm, still not stretched. Our slutty elf mate needs more.”

Gruk’s grin was quick as he squeezed a finger next to Nix's into your anus. “We can definitely manage more.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Thrak murmured as he added his own finger to the other two, stretching your hole decadently wide.

“Oh, I want her trembling, walking on legs stained with our seed. Her holes soaked and tender from our cocks,” Grogo drawled, shoving his well-oiled finger inside alongside the others. “Is that what you want, love?”

“Yes! Yes! Please, fuck me!”

You heard them mutter a response, but it was lost on you as their fingers worked in tandem, fucking your ass with more than enough oil and juices to keep them going. You whimpered and trembled, but they kept you there, their fingers making lewd wet sounds. Then they used the pads of their thumbs to circle your tits and clit. You saw stars, felt your climax coming. When euphoria hit, you cried out, your entire body going lax.

Did you enjoy? Comments and reblogs would make me super happy!!This is an ongoing series.

Pssst.... if you're craving more, there's already more waiting for you. Things are heating up in ways I can't share here. But you know where to find more.

Hugs, Kate!

[cowboybeepboop]

idk if you do anything revolving around legolas but if you do, could you do some soft/romantic legolas smut? i would be eternally grateful, im so down bad for him and im running out of fics to read 😭

Pairing: Legolas x fem! Elf Reader 

Genre: Smut 

Word count: 3.3k

a/n: i didn’t proofread what so ever and also i wrote this in barely any time so 😣 but i hope you enjoy 

Legolas smiled as he spotted you, his friend, he always felt a sense of peace with you, you’re the only person who was allowed to see his more relaxed side. The elf made his way over to you and crossed his arms.

“How are you today?” Legolas asked with a smile.

“I am quite well.” You turn to face him, your hair falling over your shoulder. “How are you, my prince?”

He chuckled quietly at the formal nickname you called him for a joke. “Please don’t call me that.”

Legolas smirked as he picked up a strand of your hair in his fingers, gently twirling it against his fingertips.

“Does it bother you?” You question, stepping closer to him ever so slightly.

He chuckled quietly again, trying to ignore the slight blush that spread across his face as you stepped closer. 

“You know it bothers me,” Legolas said in a fake annoyed tone. He slowly pulled the strand of your hair, bringing you even closer until you stood only a few inches apart from him. He gently pushed the strand behind your shoulder so it was no longer hiding your face.

“My Mellon, have you met some of the elves here?” You question, feeling his touch ghost over your cheek. “The guards are quite nice.”

Legolas chuckled slightly, continuing to brush his fingers against your cheek as he spoke. “Yes, I’ve met some of them”

His eyes darted to the guards you had mentioned, and he couldn’t help but think about the way they looked at you, the jealousy he felt grew. The prince knew that no matter how oblivious you are, you were incredibly beautiful.

You smile towards one of them, who has a watchful eye on you. “Shall we walk together?” You look at the prince in front of you, expression soft.

Legolas’s hand dropped from your cheek when he noticed the guard looking at you, looking at you as if you were the most beautiful star in Middle Earth.

The feeling of jealousy coursed through the prince, but he swallowed it down and put on a smile as he looked back at you. “Yes, of course, we can walk together.”

Legolas watched as you walked ahead of him. The way your hips swayed gently from side to side as you walked elegantly through the halls, he could not help but think how graceful you were as you were completely unaware of his gaze.

“You seem to enjoy the company of those guards.” He said in a low voice, trying not to sound jealous.

“They are intriguing, much different than what I am used to.” You murmur, “One even offered to braid my hair, do you think he did well?”

Legolas’s eyes darkened as you mentioned the guard offering to braid your hair. He almost growled at the thought of the guard’s hands on you, but he quickly composed himself.

“Let me see.” He said quietly, reaching out to your hair and pulling a lock of it gently. He looked at it for a moment before answering. “He did an adequate job.”

“Only adequate?” You question, spinning on your heel to face him. “Does it not suit me?”

Legolas looked at you as you spun around to face him. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you, how you were almost directly in front of him, gazing up at him expectantly, waiting for him to answer.

The prince gently took hold of one of your braids, wrapping his fingers around it as he tugged on it gently. “It suits you, almost everything does.”

“You flatter me, my prince.” Your cheeks flush a light pink as he continues to play with your hair.

Legolas’s hand slowly moved through your hair, gently pulling away the braids and undoing the work of the guard. The prince’s fingers slowly tangled in your hair as he gently pushed the hair over your shoulder, revealing more of your neck to him.

“Much better,” Legolas said quietly, looking down at you. 

“Mellon. If I did not know better  I would think that you were jealous of the guard who touched my hair.” You step back, a small smile as you look up at him.

Legolas smirked slightly, looking down at you. His gaze darkened as you spoke the truth, the guard’s touch on your hair had angered him more than he would like to admit, but he decided to deny it.

“Me? Jealous of a guard?” The prince said in an amused tone. He took a small step closer to you, placing his hands on your hips.

“Envious perhaps?” You grin, watching his expression turn irritated. He stepped even closer to you until there was only a few inches of space between you.

“Envious? Why would I be envious of a simple guard that would never be worthy of your time?” The prince said, his arms now wrapped around your waist.

“Not worthy of my time?” You press a hand to his shoulder, “Why wouldn’t he be worthy of my time?”

Legolas’s grip around your waist tightened slightly as you continued to push his Buttons. 

“He’s a guard.” The prince said, speaking lowly as if it was obvious. “He doesn’t deserve to touch your hair or even be in the same room as you, let alone have your time.”

Your continued teasing was beginning to annoy the prince, and you could tell by the way his grip on your waist had tightened.

“You don’t understand how perfect you are do you?” He said in a low voice, his eyes darkened as he looked at you. “You have no idea the power you have over others, especially over males like that guard. Men will fall to their knees, giving you whatever you ask for.”

“And would you?” You cup his cheek, thumb brushing over his skin. “Would you give me anything I ask for?”

Legolas’s expression softened as you cupped his cheek, the feeling of your thumb against his skin made his heart skip a beat. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a second before opening them and looking at you.

“You know I would.” He said quietly, “No matter what it was, I would give it to you without a second thought.”

“Even if I requested your heart?” The words leave your lips before you even have time to think about what you are saying.

Legolas froze as the words left your lips, staring intently at you. He hadn’t been expecting you to say that, and the silence that followed your words was deafening.

He searched your eyes, looking for any hint of a joke, but he found nothing. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat as he gently placed a hand over yours on his cheek. 

“You already have it.” The prince whispered.

“Legolas..” you gasp, heart pounding as he holds you tight.

Legolas wrapped his other arm around you, holding you close against his chest. He ran his fingers through your hair gently, the familiar feeling of your body pressed against him, how he wanted this feeling to last forever.

“You have my heart.” He repeated, speaking again in a whisper, “You’ve had my heart for several decades.”

“As you have mine.” You press your forehead to his, your arms wrapping around his neck.

Legolas closed his eyes as you pressed your forehead to his, your touch sending a shiver down his spine. He was glad that the corridor was deserted, the only sound in the hallway was yours and his own breathing.

He brought one of his hands up, wrapping it in your hair softly, as the other continued to hold you against him. “For how long?” The prince asked quietly, his lips close to yours.

“For as long as I can recall.” You trace mindless patterns into his skin, pressing your lips to his jawline.

“You will be the death of me, you know that?” The prince said in a low voice, the feeling of your lips against his skin was almost too much.

He leaned in closer, his breath gently ghosted over your face, he wanted nothing more than to press his lips to yours. He wanted to pull you even closer until there was zero space between you.

You step back, cheeks flushed as you realize the compromised position you’re in. 

Legolas almost let out a whimper at the loss of contact as you stepped back, his hand falling from your waist and he looked at you.

He let out a chuckle at the sight of your flushed cheeks and the realization of your position. “We better stop now, or I might not be able to control myself.” The prince said in a low voice.

“Perhaps we shall retire to your bed quarters.” You reach for his hand, pulling him with you down the hall.

A smirk formed on Legolas’s lips when you spoke, and he let you pull him down the hall. He followed you wordlessly, allowing you to lead him to his bed quarters.

He was acutely aware of the way you were holding his hand as you pulled him through the halls, the touch of your skin against his was almost driving him insane.

When the two of you reached Legolas’s bed quarters, he gently used his other hand to open the door for you before following you in.

He shut the door behind them quietly, and almost instantly you were pushed back against the wall, the prince’s body pressing against yours.

“My love,” you brush your thumbs over his cheekbones. Legolas leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment at the feeling of your fingers on his skin. He relished the feeling, the warmth of your body against his, the feeling of your hands against his face.

The elf opened his eyes again and looked down at you, his hands moved to your hips, gripping onto them as if you were an anchor keeping him grounded. “My love.” He repeated quietly.

You smile in response, pulling his face to yours, and pressing a kiss to his lips. Your fingers brush against the sensitive tips of his ears.

Legolas inhaled sharply as you pulled his face closer to yours, every touch of your body against his set fire to his skin.

A low gasp escaped his lips as you pressed a kiss to his lips, and another as your fingers lightly touched his ears. The prince’s hands squeezed slightly at your hips involuntarily, pulling your body even closer to his. He was struggling to control himself.

The prince tilted his head, deepening the kiss as he pressed you tighter against the wall. One of his legs pushed between your thighs, making it almost impossible for you to separate from him.

His tongue ran over your bottom lip, asking for entrance. He needed to taste you.

You moaned as his knee made contact with the warmth between your legs. Lips parting and allowing for his tongue to slip in. 

Legolas could feel the warmth in between your thighs as his knee pressed in, and he had to hold himself back from pressing his thigh even harder into it.

The sound of your moan only fueled him further. His tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, tasting you, mapping out every inch.

One of his hands moved, trailing up your body slowly, his fingers lightly caressing your skin as they went.

Legolas leaned back, panting slightly as he looked down at you. The sight of you, breathless and flushed from the kiss, took his breath away. And the prince was determined to see more of it.

His hand moved from your hip, gently grabbing your chin and tilting it up to look at him. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” Legolas asked, his voice low.

“You undo me, my darling.” You pull him close, peppering kisses onto his neck.

Legolas let out a shaky exhale as you pulled him close, your lips against his skin were sending his brain into overdrive. He let his head fall back, giving you more space to kiss his neck. 

“My dear..” he mumbled quietly, his eyes squeezing shut. “Please, if you carry on like that, I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“Then do not stop yourself..” you guide him to the bed, pushing him to sit on the edge.

The prince stumbled backward as you pushed him towards the bed, sitting on the edge as you guided him. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire.

Legolas quickly grabbed you by the hips, pulling you down so you were sat on his lap, straddling him. His hands gripped your hips, fingers pressing into your skin almost too hard. “Are you sure?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I need you like the air I breathe.” You whisper, moving your hips down against his. “I have never been more sure of anything. Please, my prince, do not hold back.”

The prince's eyes burned with an intensity that seemed to set the room alight as he stared into yours, the passion in his gaze leaving no room for doubt. With a groan, he claimed your mouth again, kissing you with a fierce hunger that had been building for centuries. 

His hands roamed up your body, slipping under your dress to feel the warmth of your bare skin, his thumbs brushing over the soft curves of your breasts. You could feel his need for you, as he held you tightly, his body trembling slightly beneath yours. 

His touch was both tender and possessive as if he was afraid that if he didn't hold on tight enough, you would slip away from him again. As you kissed, Legolas's hands worked on the laces of your dress, eager to see more of the beauty hidden beneath. 

You moaned into his mouth as the fabric loosened, allowing him to explore further. The elf's hands moved with the grace of a master archer, yet the urgency in his touch was anything but refined. He was starved for you, and he meant to feast.

Legolas's self-control snapped like a bowstring drawn too taut, and he ravished you with a fervor that was both fierce and gentle, his movements driven by a hunger that had lain dormant for eons. 

His kisses grew deeper, more demanding as he pulled your dress away, revealing the softness of your skin. His hands explored every inch of you, as if he needed to relearn the landscape of your body, to claim it as his own once again. 

He groaned into your mouth as he felt your skin against his, the sensation sending bolts of pleasure through his body. His hands roamed up your back, pulling you closer still, until there was no space left between you, until it was as if you were one being, bound together by passion and love. 

You could feel his heart hammering in his chest, matching the erratic rhythm of your own. His touch was like fire, leaving a trail of desire wherever it went, and you craved more, arching into his caresses. 

The room around you seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the heat of the moment. The prince's hands tangled in your hair, angling your head back to expose the delicate line of your neck, which he kissed with an urgency that left you trembling. 

Each touch, each kiss, was a declaration of his love and need, and you responded in kind, your hands exploring the firm planes of his chest and back, feeling the tension coiled in his muscles. 

Together, you tumbled onto the bed, a tapestry of limbs and fabric, the only sound in the room the ragged breaths and murmurs of desire.

Legolas’s hands paused for a moment, feeling the weight of the moment, as he gazed into your eyes, filled with love and a gentle yearning. He laid you back onto the soft bed, his body hovering over yours, the warmth of his skin pressing against yours. 

He kissed down your neck, feeling your pulse race under his lips. His hands gently parted your legs as he positioned himself between them, his own desire evident in the way his body responded to yours. 

With trembling hands, he began to undo the last of your garments, exposing the beauty of your form to his eager eyes. He took a moment to drink in the sight of you, his love, laid bare before him. As he leaned over, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his breath tickling your skin, making you squirm with anticipation. 

His touch grew more urgent as he kissed along your collarbone, his hips nudging yours in a silent plea for you to open up to him fully.

With a gentle push, he entered you, the feeling of your warmth enveloping him in a way that made his eyes roll back in his head. He moaned softly, the feeling of finally being inside you almost too much to handle. 

His movements were slow at first, tender, as he didn’t want to cause you any pain, but the more you responded to him, the more he lost himself in the feeling of being one with you. Each thrust grew a little more urgent, a little more needy, as he sought to claim you fully. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him deeper. 

The room was filled with the sounds of your muffled gasps and his low, guttural moans. His eyes remained locked on yours, reading every emotion that passed across your face, making sure that he wasn’t hurting you, that this was everything you wanted. 

The prince moved with the grace of an elf, yet with a passion that was unmistakably his, his love for you shining through with every movement. You could feel every inch of him, filling you up, making you feel whole again after so much pain and loneliness. 

Your body began to tremble, the pleasure building until it was a crescendo that threatened to overwhelm you.

Legolas felt your muscles tighten around him, and he knew you were close. He kissed you deeply, swallowing your cries of pleasure as he quickened his pace, his hips moving in a steady rhythm that made the bed beneath you creak in protest. 

He whispered sweet Elvish words into your ear, promising you forever and beyond, as he pushed you closer to the edge of ecstasy. His thumb found your clit, circling it gently, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. 

The prince watched as your eyes fluttered shut, your face contorting in ecstasy. And with one final, desperate push, he sent you over the edge, feeling your body shudder in release against his. 

The feeling of you coming apart in his arms was like nothing he had ever felt before, and he let out a shout of victory and love as he followed you, his own release spilling into you, mingling with your own. 

The two of you lay there, panting and intertwined, the aftershocks of passion still pulsing through your bodies. He brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Mellon,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with passion. “You are everything to me. I will spend eternity making sure you know just how much I love you.”

Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked into the depths of his, a soft smile gracing your lips. “And I you, my prince. I love you more than words can ever express.”

The room was silent except for the sound of your hearts beating in unison, the first of many moments of pure bliss that would come to define your eternity together.

 Legolas held you close, his hand stroking your hair, as you both basked in the warmth of your love, feeling more connected than ever before. The outside world no longer existed for either of you, only the two of you, entwined in each other’s arms, forever bound by passion and destiny.

[exhaslo]

What about Miguel with Fem!Reader who is Spider-Man's biggest cheerleader? It can be where she was a civilian that he saved once who became like his biggest fan. She has all the merch and stuff of him. Of course she dosn't know his identity but she dosn't care. He dose no wrong in her eyes, also cheering for him and squealing and fangirling when she sees him.

I imagine that if they ever have sex together she's just talking and disbelief and how she can't believe that this is happening to her and how shes dreamed of this. Miguel ends up having to cover her mouth to get her to be quite, but he secretly really likes his little fangirl gushing all over him in more was than one.

Ohhhh, you know what would be even spicer??? If Miguel was secretly a Yandere! Hope you'll like the little addition to your request~

Warning: Smut, MINORS DNI, rough sex, bondage, possessive, masturbation

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This obsession started a few months ago. You were on your way to work when the futurist version of the HobGoblin started to attack the city. You were running down the street, trying to find shelter when a building was destroyed above you. Just when you thought your life was over, Spiderman came and saved you.

Since then, you would fight when it came to anything involving Spiderman. He was your savior, your hero, your everything. You fell head over heels for the masked man, wanting to make sure people understood that he was a hero.

You couldn't get enough of him. Soon, you started to collect anything on Spiderman. You wanted to worship him. You grabbed anything you saw. Shirts, plushes, toys, hell, you even started to buy artwork and pins from people. You just wanted to be close to him. By any means necessary.

Getting yourself ready, you had decided to join a small parade in the lower half of Nueva York. It wasn't as safe or clean as the above half, but hell, they were throwing a hell of a party. The people in the lower half were obsessed with super heros.

Once you got there, you were in love. The amount of the Spiderman merch had you in heaven. You bought everything and went into the crowd, looking around for your hero.

"Kya!!! Spiderman! I love you!" You cheered as you saw the masked man, swing around.

---------

Miguel thought it would be funny to just stop by and see the parade. He was uncomfortable with everyone in the lower half worshiping him as a God or a messenger of Thor. It was all a mess. As he swung around, Miguel stopped as he heard you.

He landed against a building, watching you cheer and wave towards him. His eyes widen as he waved back, causing you to jump and squeal in response. You were fangirling over him. Just like that, Miguel ate his words. This was something he could get used too.

More like, he could get used to you.

Claiming that you love someone is a big deal. Miguel wanted to test you. He left soon after, already thinking of your dedication. Miguel had been looking for someone. Perhaps he had been waiting just for you. For you to be his good girl and listened to every word he said.

Someone just for him.

---------

You were humming happily to yourself as you walked down the streets of Nueva York. It was your day off and you were hoping to catch a glimpse of Spiderman swinging around. It was a fun pass time for you.

"The Public Eye will catch him one of these days! That menace, Spiderman, can't keep breaking the law forever!" A stranger barked. You gripped your coffee,

"He's not a menace! He's a hero! You're just jealous that you can't do anything that he could!" You barked.

"You're just another fangirl!"

"You'll change your mind when you're in trouble!" You huffed.

Storming away, you threw away your coffee in anger. Some people just had no idea of how Spiderman really was. He was a hero! There was nothing he did that was wrong!

"I suppose I should be thanking my fans," Spiderman said. You squeaked, looking up into the alleyway,

"S-Spi-Spiderman! Ohmygoshohmygosh! It's you!!" You squealed happily.

Miguel smiled at your excitement. He webbed your lips and motioned you to follow him into the dark alley. You happily followed. Miguel inhaled deeply, enjoying your behavior. He could see the sparkles in your eyes as you happily jumped in place.

"When I take the webbing off your mouth, I want you to tell me your name and where you work, okay?"

You nodded. Miguel smiled as he casually stroked your cheek, slowly taking the webbing off. He could see the love in your eyes. You truly were head over heels for him. How delicious.

"(Y/N), I work at a corporate office for retail clothes."

"Interesting." Miguel observed you, "You know, I take things quite seriously, (Y/N). So, when I hear the words, 'I love you', come out of your mouth, it drives me to want to test that."

"I do! I do love you! I'll do anything to prove it!"

"Then have sex with me-"

"Yes."

Miguel held back a laugh by how quick you agreed. He wrapped his arm around your waist and asked for your address. He wasn't going to take you to his place, yet. He wanted to see what made you tick. He wanted to make sure that you were dedicated to him.

You on the other hand, were squealing mentally and physically. You were in Spiderman's arms, swinging to your place. The thought of fucking him had not even crossed your mind yet. You were living in the moment and right now, you were in HIS ARMS.

Once you arrived at your place, you begged Spiderman to wait before entering. You had to clean up your mess of clothes on the floor. You whined, throwing them all in a basket and double checking your room to make sure that it was safe.

"You really are a fan," Miguel whispered, looking around at your collection of him. He paused, seeing a body pillow of him, "How-"

"I paid someone." Was all you said and moved it aside. Miguel turned to you, smiling under his mask,

"So, I assume you fuck yourself to it, huh?"

You tensed, facing Spiderman and slowly nodded. Okay, now you were recalling that you agreed to have sex with him. Your cheeks started to burn as you glanced at his muscular body. The body of a god, basically.

"Get on the bed and show me what you do to yourself," Miguel whispered in your ear.

You complied. Crawling on your bed, you stripped yourself of your clothes and spread your legs. Spiderman was about to watch you masturbate. This was making you wet. A shudder escaped your lips as you rubbed your clit, imaging what Spiderman was going to do to you.

Miguel on the other hand was watching with amusement. You listened to every command he's given. You were being such a good girl for him. Touching yourself so naughty with him watching. You were just so desperate for him.

"Would you let me do anything to you?" He asked, slowing crawling on the bed as you started to moan and squirm.

"Y-Yes!"

"Even fuck you into being mine?"

"Y-Yes! Yes!" You cried out, reaching your orgasm.

Miguel resisted a groan as he raised his mask slightly, licking your fingers in the process. You were doing such a good job tempting him. He was going to enjoy having you to call his.

"Don't tell me you're tired after just that?" Miguel webbed your hands to your bed post, "I'm going to make sure you don't think of anything else but me."

"Of course!"

Miguel just chuckled in response as he showed you his erection. Your eyes widen as you started to freak out. This was actually happening! You were actually about to have sex with Spiderman.

"Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, this is happening!" You squealed.

Miguel glanced at you as he slowly inserted his dick inside your folds. You were totally fangirling and geeking out. He smirked as he webbed your mouth, listening to your muffled moans. Miguel lowered his mask, wanting to hide his smile.

He watched your eyes roll back, moaning as he shoved his dick fully inside you. Your body arching in pleasure as he started to ravish you. Such a delicious face you were making. You were giving your whole body to him.

"You're sucking me in so much, you truly must love me." Miguel smirked.

Miguel held your hips tightly, listening to your muffled voice. He could get used to this. Your muffle cries and moans as he destroyed your pussy. You said you loved him. There was no taking that back now.

"If you truly love me, you'd let me have my way with you, right?"

You nodded, moaning into his webs as you felt yourself about to burst in pleasure again. Spiderman was being so rough with you. It was like you were his fuck doll, and you were loving every minute of it. His dick was so big and filling. You were going to lose count with how many times you cam.

Gasping, you felt like you saw stars as he pressed you into mating position. His hips slamming into yours as you felt him cum inside you. The stamina this man had for fucking you while cumming. You flung your head back, still in disbelief.

What if you got pregnant with Spiderman's babies? Nearly squealing at the thought, you spread your legs out more, moving your hips to his. This had to be a dream. Being fucked so good by Spiderman. Oh, you were dreaming well!

"Good girl, you love my dick, don't you? You want me to keep cumming inside your tight little pussy, right?" Miguel groaned, his thrusts getting rougher.

"Mhpm~" You nodded violently, feeling the urge to cum again.

Miguel hummed as he rubbed your clit, watching a white ring form at the base of his dick. Your pussy was still so tight and wet, just for him. You were going to a great stress reliever. Miguel was going to keep you for himself.

The best part? There wasn't much he had to do to convince you otherwise. You were just as obsessed with him as he was with you. Groaning lowly as he gave you another load of him, Miguel decided to remove the webbing from your mouth.

"You'll do whatever I say, right?" He asked lowly.

"Mhm~" You nodded, trembling slightly. Miguel stroked your cheek, smirking at your fucked out expression,

"Good. Quit your job. I'll be taking care of you from now on."

"Y-Yes," You gasped as he started to thrust into you again, "I-I'll quit! I'll quit for you!" You moaned.

"And block everyone on your phone. You're only going to need me from now on."

"Y-Yes!"

Oh this was too easy. Miguel was enjoying this far too much. You were the only one who was listening to every command he made. How delicious. Pressing himself against you more, Miguel paid close attention to your blissed out expression.

"Who do you belong to now?"

"Y-You! Spiderman!" You cried out, reaching another mind blowing orgasm.

"Mine."

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Hope you enjoyed~

[gallavichsreddie1128]

OverProtective (Spock TOS)

Description: After Y/N hurts herself on a mission, Spock becomes overprotective

Word Count: 1,257

Request:Could you please do a Data x Reader or Spock x Reader fan ficm. Preferably where he is protective of the reader. Smut or no smut is fine just have fun with it! But if you don't want to that's totally understandable, thank you!

Y/N sat on the bed as Bones examined her broken arm. “You’re gonna need surgery.” He tells her and she sighs. Great. The mission couldn’t have gone worse…well she could be dead. Bones had given her a lot of sprays to numb the pain and she was very thankful that but if she even looks at her arm she feels the pain. Spock was through the door moments later. Y/N couldn’t even look at him as she could tell that in his own way he was glaring at her for not being more careful. “It uh it wasn’t my fault.” She told him and she knew that if he allowed himself he would have rolled his eyes. “You are going to need surgery for that.” He tells her as if Bones didn’t already. “She knows that you pointy eared hobgoblin. Now go.” He tells Spock so he can fix her arm. 

It’s been awhile since that had happened and Spock would not let her out of his sight. Even with her arm better she hasn’t been on a mission in so long and couldn’t understand why. Did the Captain think that this would happen again? Kirk actually assigned her to a few missions but Spock removed her from them and assigned someone else. Y/N had no idea about this until she went to talk to Kirk about it. “I assigned you to a few missions Y/N but Spock took you off them for your safety.” Her eyes widened and she couldn’t believe that her boyfriend would do such a thing. She was mad and the look on her face said so, so when Kirk left the room with an awkward goodbye Y/N ran to their quarters. Spock had the day off but he was gonna wish he hadn’t. “So you’re the reason why I haven’t gone on any missions?” Y/N accused him. “I reassigned you from them for your safety.” He tells her not bothered by her outbursts. “What the fuck, Spock. That is not okay. Why would you do that?” It was like she had missed the part about being concerned for her safety. “I want you to be safe and on missions you do not seem to be.” Her eyes widened. “One mission goes wrong and you do this?” “Y/N it is not my intention to make you mad at me but you must understand that your life was on the line.” “Your life is on the line all the time Spock” “Yes but I am Vulcan so it is much harder for me to be harmed.” She laughed. A sarcastic and unbelievable laugh. “So this is what this is about? You view me as a weak human and you think you are better than me.” “I did not say that.” “Spock you say it all the time to Kirk and Bones in your own twisted way!” She yelled at him. “You aren’t my mother, you don’t get to tell me what to do and take away opportunities from me!” She goes on. “I am your superior, I am above you in the line of work.” Oh wow. “Okay Spock I don’t care. You are not to reassign me from missions or else.” “If that is how you feel then maybe we should.” But before he could finish his sentence she held up a hand. “Don’t. Don’t try that on me because you think it is illogical to argue. It is illogical for you to mess with your girlfriend’s work.” 

Christine and Y/N sat in her quarters as they ate and talked about what happened. “Like he thinks that’s okay and for what? He has no right to do that and it’s like everytime we get in to an argument he tries to end the relationship.” Christine listens as Y/N rants about him. “Spock is just like that. But I do know this. He loves you very much.” Y/N rolled her eyes at that. She started to not believe that. “Think about it. He doesn’t want you getting hurt and yes he’s going about it the wrong way but still.” Y/N sighed. Christine was right Spock was being overprotective but he was going overboard with it. 

Y/N decided to spend the night in Christine’s quarters not wanting to deal with Spock. She forgot to tell him about it since she was so mad at him. In the morning, she had gotten up and Christine was already gone. So she left her quarters and returned to hers to see that Spock was also already gone. She yawned and decided to take a shower before her shift. She headed to the bridge where everyone was and Spock noticed her. She didn’t even look in his direction. Spock had no idea where she was and he couldn’t even think until he saw that she was okay. “Morning Y/N.” “Morning Kirk.” She said and got to her station that was unfortunately right by Spock’s. “You did not attend our quarters last night. I was worried.” She thought about ignoring him but he never admits his emotions. “I was sleeping at Christine’s.” She said without looking at him. “I would like to be notified when you decide you would not like to sleep in our quarters.” That just made her more angry. “And I would like a boyfriend that isn’t up my ass about everything and ruins my opportunity to go on missions.” She growled at him. “It is not my attempt to stop you from going to work but with your recent injury it is logical that you do not go on any.” “Spock my arm is healed, you can stop with that bullshit.” “It is not bullshit. It is me loving you!” The Bridge stared at the Vulcan. Y/N stared at her boyfriend in shock. He had never had an outbursts or even yelled let alone at work. Without asking Kirk if he could be excused he left. “Sure Spock you are excused.” Kirk mumbled. Y/N shook her head and got back to work. 

It never left her mind. His outburst and the fact that he admitted to loving her in public. He rarely ever said it. It never bothered her that he didn’t say it she knew that he loved her. She loved him but she was getting sick of him babying her. She sighed and opened their quarters door. “Spock are you in here?” She asked. She saw him at his desk and he looked tired. “Spock are you okay?” She asked and walked closer to him. “I do not know.” He said and truthfully that worried her. “Spock you’ve never done that before.” She said and sat next to him. “I know and that is why I had to leave my station. I think I am sick.” Y/N held back a laugh. He wasn’t sick. He just wasn’t used to having that much emotion. “Spock you’re not sick. We both are just frustrated with the situation. I love you Spock and I don’t want us leaving each other but you have to let me be me and go on missions and do my job.” She said. “I apologize for holding you back.” He said and looked at her. “You don’t hold me back Spock but this was a little annoying.” She said and he understood that this job was never promised to be easy. “Now how about you relax the rest of the night and maybe take Tomorrow off. You need rest.” She tells him. He looks at her and smirks. “Now who’s being overprotective?”

[medra-gonbites]

Roll Initiative

A one shot chapter multi-chapter fic for @bloodweaveweek 2024

Day 7 | Alternate Universe

Word Count: 2,529

NSFW - Gambling, Teasing, Heavy Smut

“Roll a perception check!” Gale said.

“Come on!” Protested Astarion, “Can’t you just tell me what’s in the room? Do I really have to roll the bloody die every time I want to do something?”

“That’s how the game works Astarion,” Wyll sighed, “Please, listen to the Dungeon Master and roll the perception check!”

Astarion begrudgingly seized the die twenty. He shuffled it in his hand a few times before dropping it on the wooden surface of the table below him. It tumbled sporadically before landing in one of its triangular faces. One.

“You see nothing, hear nothing and smell nothing. As far as you are concerned there isn’t even a room there.” Gale declared, leaning back on his chair, his arms crossed and an impassable look on his face.

“Oh come the fuck on!” Astarion snarled, punching the table with one fist.

Wyll burst out laughing, his character sheet flying away with the power of his breath.

Astarion glared at Gale. If he didn’t know any better he would suspect that the die was loaded. 

It was his first time playing a Dungeon and Dragon campaign after Wyll had successfully worn him down to the idea. He felt absolutely ridiculous.

This type of game was not really his cup of tea, but Wyll was a really good friend and he had practically begged him to join. Apparently their party missed a player or some lame excuse like this. It didn’t make sense because when he had arrived at Gale’s, only Wyll had shown up. Apparently the three other participants had canceled at the last minute. 

Lucky Bastards. 

Before he was able to escape from this nerdish hell, Gale, the king of nerds it seemed, had proposed to do a quick and easy campaign to ease up Astarion in this new world. Not at all eased up right now it actually felt like he was being hazed like a newbie.

Gale was looking at him above his DM screen, squinting, an amused glint in his eyes and a cheeky smile etched on his face. The tip of his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip. For a moment Astarion wondered if he had seen something there. A slight flash of lust in his gaze as it trailed up and down his body. But he was probably projecting. 

He was not sure if it was the commanding tone, the intelligent eyes or the fleshy pink lip budding from his lush beard, but he could not help but find him fascinatingly handsome… For a nerd. 

----------------------------------------------------------

Wyll left shortly after the campaign ended. They had defeated a hobgoblin sorcerer and rescued the nobleman whom a mysterious dwarf had asked them to find. Their characters had won a few gold coins, and they themselves had drunk a few cold beers.

Astarion was surprised and a bit ashamed to admit he did like the game after all. It was stupid and random but very creative and fun. Although he had strong suspicion that  Gale and Wyll had thoroughly enjoyed making him the fall guy of the evening. 

Stabbing himself in the rib while trying to attack, tripping over a stick, failing to read a parchment resulting in his character scorching his face… etc. Frankly he had almost felt bullied.

Gale was clearing the table as Astarion was finishing his drink and slowly packing his own things. His lips around the throat of the bottle, Astarion paused mid sip, mesmerized by the game master’s hand for a moment: neatly stacking the lore books and gathering the dice in a miniature wooden chest his slander fingers were fluttering about. Astarion suddenly had the intrusive urge to lick them.

“So. Did you like it?” 

Gale's voice snatched him out of his lewd reverie. He felt his cheeks start to burn. He cleared his throat, downed his beer, and looked up to meet the brown gaze of the game master on him. He wondered if Gale could see that he was blushing. He was smiling at him. The same mischievous smile as earlier.

“It was alright.” Astarion admitted casually, making sure to hide his enthusiasm, “You could have dialed the persecution down though…”

“Apologies” Gale chuckled, “I assure you it was not personal.” 

Astarion could feel the tension between them. Now that Wyll was gone it was evident. Tangible almost. Thick enough to be cut with a knife. He caught Gale’s eyes lingering on his neck and collarbone. The latter diverted his stare immediately when he realized he had been caught. 

Astarion walked up to him. He waved a hand through his hair, caressing along the nap of his neck and landing on his sternum, subtly inviting the other man’s eyes there.  Standing mere inches from Gale he planted his eyes in his.

“Is it true? Or were you trying to teach me a lesson?” He inquired.

“What… What kind of lesson?” Gale stuttered.

“Putting me in my place… so to speak?”

Gale smirked. Astarion had placed it. There was some kind of power play at hand. As the man stroked his chin Astarion had to refrain from lunging at him and rub his face in the scruff of his cheeks.

“Come now,” Gale said softly, “You are not an hardcore player I figured, but all are welcome in this game. That’s the beauty of it.”

He took a step closer, holding Astarion’s gaze, a hint of defiance animating his big brown eyes.

“However, If you roll a critical failure, I am going to play it out.” He added, “That’s the rule. Your dice rolls were simply terrible tonight…”

“I see.”

Astarion opened the little box and seized the die-twenty. He brought it up, and held it in between the two of them.

“Let’s verify that shall we?” He whispered.

Gale’s face initially betrayed his annoyance at Astarion’s manhandling of his stuff. But when Astarion began rolling the icosahedron suggestively between his middle finger and thumb, Gale's breath itched. His jaw slacked, his pupil blew out and a pearly tooth came to bite down on his plump lip. 

Bringing the fateful object to his lips, Astarion gave it a soft kiss.

“I want to kiss you now.”

Gale swallowed. Lip parted, half hooded lids, he was hazy with want. 

“Roll for it…”

Astarion let the die fall on the table. It tumbled for what seemed to be an eternity as it bounced roughly on its angles and apexes, its sharp corners clicking against the wood of the table. The two men were holding their breath. The roll finally came to a halt, landing steady on the hard surface. 15.

With urgency and passion, Gale and Astarion collided into each other's arms and their mouths crashed together in a heated kiss.  Astarion nipped at Gale bottom lip, the one he had teased him with earlier, eliciting a moan from the other man, that he felt vibrate in his mouth. 

Astarion’s hand grabbed Gale’s cheeks and neck and languidly made its way into the strands of his hair. He grabbed a fistfull and yanked his head back, revealing the blue roads that trailed down his jaw to his chest. 

His mouth slowly moved down grazing Gale’s bearded chin, descending and licking alongside the pulsing veins mapping his neck. He buried his face in the crook of his collarbone and sucked at the tanned flesh. Gale let out an outrageous whine that ignited a potent desire in Astarion's core. He could feel his hunger pooling in his abdomen as blood inflowed down south.

He tucked at Gale’s shirt and the latter took the hint, slipping the cotton garment off, exposing the hairy plains of his chest. Astarion brought a hand upwards and laid it out on Gale’s heart, feeling the soft fuzz under his palm, squeezing his breast. He was toned and firm. Quite an impressive form for a dork. This night had certainly taught Astarion a few lessons. One being the classical “thou shalt not judge a book by its cover”. The other, that DnD was way more fun than he had anticipated.

Gale claimed his mouth once more. He sneaked a hand under Astarion’s shirt, who understood the unspoken request, and in turn, removed it and sent it flying, discarded, on the floor. Gale’s thumbs flicker over the peak of Astarion’s nipple, causing a groan in response that only coaxed Gale on.

One hand still on Gale’s chest, Astarion began to caress downwards, fondling his belly, sliding lower and lower all the way down further to his mid center. He tentatively pinched at the hem of his trousers, brushing against the skin of his pelvis. He could feel a slickness had dampened the area.

Astarion stopped their kiss and reached out for the die once more.

“I want you to go down on me.” He said.

Gale looked at him hungrily and began to lower himself down, but Astarion’s other hand on his hair held him firmly in place. He brought the dice to Gale's lips. As his partner had done before, he kissed the die with lechery, eyes blown out and dark. 

“Roll for it…”

With a flick of the wrist Astarion threw the die. The pallet of triangles rolled across the table with speed, almost falling over its edge. Luckily it stopped its course just before it could plummet off and stilled within eyesight of the two impatient men. 18.

Gale dropped to his knee without hesitation. He vehemently undid the belt and fastening of Astarion’s jeans and worked him out of his underwear. Astarion’s erection sprung free, his cock hard and bobbing, already leaking at the tip, as evidenced by the telltale stain on his boxer shorts. 

Gale smiled at this lovely and appetizing sight. He grazed the warm and soft skin of his lips, leaving wet kisses along Astarion’s shaft and sending a shiver of excitement down his spine. Breath was knocked out Astarion’s lungs when Gale’s mouth closed on his member and slid across its length, taking him in full until the base, with an obscene gurgling noise. 

As he pulled away, Gale ran the flat of his tongue on the underside of Astarion cock before curling around his tip. He began to bob his head in and out in a steady cadence, at times disrupting it to plunge the whole damn thing down his throat.

Grasping Astarion’s wrist, Gale guided his hand back to his head, encouraging the man to take the lead and steer him to his own preferred rhythm. Wrapping his fist in the brown mane, Astarion set out to push decisively as well as thrusting his hips forward, hitting deeper and deeper in the tight pipe of Gale’s throat.

As he heard coughing below, Astarion slowed down an instant. He looked down at Gale. Drool was running down his chin, tears streaming in the corner of his eyes, hungry eyes that begged for more. What a magnificent sight he was. Greedy little thing. Not only a game master, but a headmaster as well. 

With every bob of his head, every swirl of his tongue, Astarion could feel himself approaching the edge. But he could not allow that. There were way too many things he still wanted to do. He delicately cupped Gale's jaw and guided him back up. He welcomed him with a kiss, tasting himself on the other man’s lips.  

Astarion then grabbed Gale by the hips, turned him around and pressed his upper body against the table. He trailed a path of kisses down the man’s back as he was undoing and pulling his pants down. With a teasing finger Astarion probed delicately between his firm cheeks down below. 

He felt the hole, warm against the pad of his finger and slowly drew circles around the area, massaging tenderly, attentive to the pretty music of Gale’s gasps and moans. Astarion spit in his hand and coated the soft entrance with the slick of his saliva. He tentatively pressed a knuckle inside. Gale hissed in pleasure, pulsing around the digit, threatening to swallow it whole. 

Astarion progressively pushed deeper, burying himself inside, exploring the sensual cavern, and prodding the sensitive gland that sent waves of pleasure in the pit of Gale’s stomach. After a few minutes of careful kneading, Gale was already falling apart. Twitching and whimpering with every curl of Astarion’s finger, so keen on being touched. Astarion decided to take it up a notch and inserted a second finger, scissoring inside with ease, Gale’s hip bucked erratically against his wrist.

Soon it became apparent that Gale was close to coming undone, while Astarion could feel his aching cock request his attention. As he took his hard self in hand, he started lavishly rubbing it up and down between Gale’s fleshy cheeks. Gale was rolling his hips in unisson, grinding his own member between himself and the table. His tip was leaking on the wood, and the pressure was close to hurtful against the hard surface of the table. 

Astarion pressed his leaking tip on the warm entrance of Gale’s body; he spit another long filament of drool which he spread generously around the area using his cock. Bending forward over Gale’s back, he nipped at his earlobe and let out a subtle moan into his ear, sending a jolt of electricity down the other man’s spine. 

“Do you want it?” He asked, pinning him down under his body, ready to penetrate Gale and Gale oh so ready to receive him.

“Please… Yes…” Gale’s voice came ragged and strained.

“Roll for it…” He ordered, squeezing Gale’s ass, spreading it wider.

Gale let out a disapproving groan. He crawled to reach for the die all the way across the table. He weakly shook the die a few times before dropping it next to him. Astarion laughed as he saw the fateful face of the die taunting him yet again. 1.

With a resigned sigh, Astarion pulled away from Gale, tucking his cock back in his briefs, the fabric tenting from the pressure of his erected sex. He pulled his pants up and picked up his shirt on the floor. Gale remained splayed on the table, dumbstruck for a moment. Eventually he propped himself on his elbows and turned around to face Astarion, incredulous.

“Really?!” He exclaimed.

Astarion shrugged, now fully dressed, throwing the strap of his bag over his shoulder, before approaching the other man once more. He planted a gentle peck on his forehead, then lower on his cheek, before claiming his lips with a sultry yet tender kiss. Breaking away he laid his forehead upon Gale’s.

“That’s the rule…” He said, before adding with a naughty smirk, “Your dice rolls were simply terrible tonight…” 

Before Gale could voice his protest, Astarion stifled his rants with his tongue. 

Pulling away from the kiss, leaving Gale dazed and disoriented, half naked on the dining room table, Astarion headed for the exit. As he seized the knob on the front door, he turned around to face the confused Dungeon Master he was about to leave, wanton, panting and ruined.

“Same time next week?” He purred, “I’ll get my own dice.” 

It promised to be an interesting campaign.

Read the rest in chapter 2!

[peggy-sue-reads-a-book]

Fae smut but the primary source of dick are ugly and old-school folk entities. Give me the phooka. I want the damn phooka. Somebody fuck a hobgoblin. I do not care. I just want it to be weird.

[grandmother-goblin]

Field Study - Chapter 11

Ao3 - Masterlist

Chapter Summary: After waiting a day, Astarion finally gets a response from Cas.

Relationships: Astarion x Female!Tav

Rating: Explicit (18+) for eventual smut.

Word Count: 4k

Chapter Tags: Sexual content, kissing, safe word discussion, confessions, mild dirty talk.

A full day passed and Astarion still hadn’t gotten an answer from Cas. Their conversation had left him on edge. It was like he had an open wound in his chest, and Cas was the only person with the means to heal it. Yet she decided to make him wait, his heart beating out in the open. Exposed. Vulnerable.

He tried to distract himself with whatever he could think of: fletching arrows, reading that changeling detective novel, fixing a small tear in his armor. He even tried striking up a conversation with Gale of all people. Nothing seemed to make time go by faster or take his mind off of his little wood elf.

It was maddening.

So when he learned that the tieflings at the Grove wanted to throw a little celebration at the campsite, he initially welcomed the idea. It was something to occupy his time. It was also a chance to show Cas that he could behave himself in a setting where it would be completely acceptable to flirt and mingle. He was determined to be on his absolute best behavior.

But by the time the party rolled around, Astarion’s determination gave way to frustration. For more reasons than one.

First, the tieflings thought he was some sort of hero. For what? Stabbing a hobgoblin and a couple of his cronies in the dead of night? Some people would call that being a serial killer, but what did he know? The tieflings thought that he helped save them. If he did, it was completely unintentional. A mere side-effect of their mission to find a cure for the tadpole situation. Nothing more.

Second, Cas was busy socializing with everyone but him. She flitted from one conversation to the next like a hummingbird, staying just long enough to say a few words before moving on. And their companions took notice. Shadowheart even had the audacity to tease him about it. Then, as if to rub it in his face, she asked Cas to have a drink with her then the two women proceeded to chat for at least ten minutes.

Third, his wine tasted like vinegar. It was the least of his problems, but given everything else going on, it irritated him more than it should have. Still, he drank it anyway.

The party itself was fine. Not bad, but not terribly good. There was music, dancing, and plenty of drinks to go around. But there were also children present, which meant that the levels of debauchery Astarion was accustomed to at parties was practically eliminated.

Not a single person got so drunk that they took off their clothes. Or tried doing something dangerous and stupid. Or started a fist fight. Or an orgy. It was so… boring.

Astarion was never a wallflower at social events, but he couldn’t bring himself to mingle with this particular crowd. They all wanted to thank him, which would have been hilarious if it didn’t make him so uncomfortable. He wasn’t a hero, and the tieflings were idiots for thinking so. However, he had the good manners not to say anything to their faces. After all, they did bring free booze, even if it was shit.

Regardless, he had used the party as an excuse to dress up a bit. Not much, since he didn’t have his usual wardrobe on hand, but nice enough. He wore the black linen shirt that showed off a bit of his chest just because he knew Cas liked it and paired it with well-tailored trousers that tucked into his leather boots. A simple, monochromatic look that he knew looked quite striking with his complexion.

A few interested pairs of eyes had wandered his way and confirmed what he already knew. But he ignored them. It was only a few weeks ago that he would have taken those lingering glances as an invitation. After what happened with the drow, he didn’t show any interest in return. The truth was he dressed up for Cas, hoping to entice her into speaking with him, but it seemed his efforts were in vain.

Restless energy pulsed through him. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and drank deeply from his bottle of wine, but even the alcohol didn’t seem to relieve his growing tension. That tension only grew when he saw Cas laughing at something Halsin had said. And again she left to talk with Wyll in private for a moment. Astarion ground his teeth together so hard it was a miracle he didn’t snap a fang. He forced himself to look away for his own sanity, fuming.

Why the hells should he just wait around for Cas to come talk to him? Sure, he could have gone and talked to her himself, but he was stubborn. Stubborn and not willing to roll on his back and bare his belly for her again. No. If she wanted to talk to him, she would have to be the one to initiate conversation. He was tired of feeling like she held his heart in her hand, and he was far too proud to slink after her and beg for it back.

Unwilling to endure the party any longer, Astarion took his one last sip of his wine and dumped the rest into a bush. That could be his heroic deed: ridding the world of that swill they called wine. Now that was worthy of celebration.

He needed to do something other than waiting for Cas. Something to distract himself before his irritation festered and he did something stupid again.

Maybe he could hunt? It would get him away from the party and burn off some of the energy that was coiling inside him like a tight metal spring. Plus killing something usually made him feel better. It didn’t really matter that he hunted earlier in the day. Perhaps he could find something that would put up a bit of a fight. He could use the release.

As he turned to his tent so he could get changed into something more hunting appropriate, he stopped short. Only a few feet away, Cas watched him with those deep brown eyes. Curious and hesitant, but there was a familiar warmth behind them that made his undead heart quicken.

She hadn’t even dressed up for the party. Just a simple, white, sleeveless top paired the leather leggings and boots she typically wore with her armor. Her hair was down and a little messy from running around the party all night. Still, he drank in the sight of her as though she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on.

He hated how his body responded to her at that moment. The butterflies in his stomach had no business being there, but his mind couldn’t convince them to leave.

“Hey,” Cas said, her brow furrowed and a faint frown appeared on that mouth he so still so stupidly wanted to kiss. “Are you leaving?”

Yes, because you ignored me for the last hour and I’m tired of waiting around like a dog, he wanted to say. Even though she had finally come to talk to him, it was a minute too late. He was done being patient and done with not knowing where they stood.

Astarion huffed. “I’m bored, darling,” he said, his tone a mixture of exasperation and annoyance. A couple of tiefling children dancing with their parents caught his eye and Cas followed his gaze. “This really isn’t my sort of thing. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find something else to occupy my time. I need to hunt anyway.”

“Wait.” Cas’s fingers wrapped loosely around his wrist and his body electrified at that small touch.

Goosebumps crawled up his arm when he saw the look on her face. Her eyes were wide, pleading, but there was something else. Something he couldn’t quite place.

He glanced at where her fingers touched his skin but made no move to pull away. He watched her and said nothing. Waiting. Again.

Cas drew her lower lip between her teeth. “I—” A sharp breath cut between them as she straightened. “I wanted to talk to you. About you and me.”

“I’m listening,” he replied, keeping his voice flat to hide the hope that threatened to blossom in his chest. Just because she was ready to talk didn’t mean he was going to get the answer he wanted to hear.

In fact, he was almost certain that he wouldn’t like whatever she was about to say. His night was already going terribly, so what was one more disappointment?

Her fingers slipped from his wrist, and he immediately mourned the loss despite himself. The urge to reach out and touch her was strong, almost overpowering, but he resisted. She wasn’t his to touch anymore.

“Let’s…” She looked down at her boots. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private,” she said and cocked her chin toward the edge of the woods.

Astarion nodded and followed her lead, but his stomach twisted with apprehension. Truth be told, he had no idea which way the conversation was going to go, but he was already steeling himself for the worst. Just because she wanted to talk didn’t mean that she forgave him. It didn’t mean that she still wanted him the way she did before. There was a good chance that she would sever whatever romantic connection they had, and he couldn’t really blame her if she did. If the roles were reversed, he knew exactly what he would do.

But Cas had a much softer heart than he did.

They stopped at the border of the campsite, where the chatter from the party barely reached his ears and the only light came from the glow of the moon. It was quiet enough that he could hear crickets over the distant sounds of lutes, flutes, and drums.

Yet, Cas didn’t say anything for several seconds.

She picked at her short fingernails and rocked on her heels. “Thank you for giving me some time to think,” she started, her voice a little softer than normal. Almost like she didn’t trust it. “I needed a day to go over what you said. And to figure out how I felt.”

“Well, you didn’t give me much of a choice, darling,” he said, folding his arms across his chest as though he could shield his heart.

A sheepish laugh passed her lips as she continued not to look at him. “Still….”

Leaves rustled in the wind, filling the lingering silence between them. Moments passed and Cas opened her mouth once or twice to say something before ultimately changing her mind. The longer the pause went on, the further his heart sank.

She was ending it. Whatever it was that was between them, their nascent relationship; she wanted it to be over. It was the only reasonable explanation for her reticence. He swallowed the lump in his throat and his fingers dug into his shirtsleeves.

It was over. He laid his heart out on the line for nothing.

“Out with it,” Astarion bit, his impatience boiling over into anger.

Tell him he wasn’t worth the trouble. That he was nothing more than a quick fuck to distract her from the mess they were in. That nothing he said or did mattered to her. He needed her to remind him that the world was a cruel place. That anything that made him happy was bound to go up in flames. No matter how he tried to stop the fire, it would always destroy him. Bit by bit.

Hope was a dangerous thing, and Cas had given him hope. Made him think that, even for a moment, she wanted him for him. She made him believe he was worth something to her.

He was such an idiot.

Dread dripped down his spine and he mentally tried to steel himself. Cas was just like anyone else he had seduced. Just a bit of fun. Nothing serious. Certainly no one worth fretting over.

Astarion repeated the words like a mantra in his mind, trying to convince himself of it. Cas meant nothing to him, so she couldn’t hurt him. It was just flirtation and fun. Like always.

Cas gazed up at him with those deep brown eyes and sucked in a lungful of air. “I still want you.”

The words came out like it was a secret she had been trying to keep inside. A mere breath. A whisper.

And he couldn’t believe it.

For a second, he wasn’t even sure he heard her correctly. She… she still wanted him? Or did she say she didn’t want him? The more he thought about it, the less sure he was of what she actually said. The pessimist, vitriolic, part of his brain told him that he definitely misheard her. The way she had been acting didn’t make sense otherwise. Why would she have stayed away from him if she still wanted him?

He blinked at her. “What?”

“I still want you.” She wrung her hands together and averted her gaze. “I was blindsided by what happened the other day. I thought you just didn’t care, but after our talk yesterday…. If you really didn’t care, you wouldn’t have bothered.

“I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but I like you. A lot. Despite what happened. You’re clever and funny and you’re one of my favorite people to talk to. Not to mention extremely handsome, but you already knew that. I’m rambling. Anyway, if you’re still interested I would really like to continue—”

The impulse was too strong to resist. It was like the tightly wound coil deep inside him had suddenly snapped, and he couldn’t wait a second longer. Astarion clutched the back of her head and his lips crashed against hers in a rough, soul-searing, all-encompassing kiss. He wanted her too much for anything else to matter. Too much to care about whatever else she was going to say. She had said all she needed to.

A faint whimper escaped the back of her throat as her body sank against his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, anchoring herself to him. The delicate stroke of her tongue against his sent a shock of pleasure through him and a groan, almost like a growl, rumbled in his chest.

He cupped the curve of her ass and pulled her tightly against him, pressing his rapidly hardening length against her stomach. Her fingers slid into his hair as lips broke from hers, moving down to her corner of her jaw to her throat. The frantic throb of her pulse beneath his lips made his fangs ache. He wanted to bite her. To claim her again. To mark her so the whole world knew who she belonged to.

The need nearly overwhelmed him for a moment as his fingers tightened in her hair, pulling her head back until her throat was completely bared to him. Cas’s breath hitched when his teeth closed gently against the tender flesh of her neck. Just a nip. Not hard enough to pierce the skin, no matter how desperately he craved it. He wouldn’t bite her without permission.

Because he wanted her. Damn it to the Hells, he wanted her. Blood, body, and soul.

At that moment, everything he had been worried about had vanished. It was just him and her. Nothing else seemed to matter when she was in his arms, and he would take every second of peace he could get.

The tip of his tongue soothed over the faint mark he left on her throat, the salt of her skin as exquisite as fine wine. “Darling, I want to bite you,” he said into the cove of her neck as his hips rocked against hers once, trying to relieve the ache he felt for her. “I miss seeing my mark on your neck.”

“Maybe I’ll let you make another,” Cas replied a little breathlessly. “You said you needed to hunt tonight anyways. Why not hunt me?”

Astarion loosened his grip in her hair, smoothing his fingers over her scalp down to her nape. “Hunt you?” he asked as he pressed a lingering kiss against a pulse point just below her jaw.

“Yeah,” she said, almost a little shyly. Like she couldn’t quite believe what she was asking for. “Not for real, obviously. But like a game. I’ll pack up some things and wander off into the woods. All alone. Far away from camp. Then you’ll come find me.”

The thought of stalking her, catching her, and overpowering her appealed to him on the most primal level. Excitement swelled in his chest. In all his years, he had never been asked to hunt someone before. At least, not like this. Not by someone who knew what he was and what he was capable of.

Vampires were hunters by nature. They had to be. Most people would never subject themselves to a vampire's bite willingly, regardless of the risk of being turned. And most vampires would never let their victims live. Especially the ones they chased down or seduced with the sole purpose of feeding. It was simply a risk most vampires couldn’t afford to take. Loose ends and all of that. The fact that Cas was asking this of him….

His hand lowered on her backside, giving the firm flesh a little squeeze. “You trust me to not go too far?”

A small gasp passed her lips when his fingers curved around high on her inner thigh. “Of course I do,” she said. “You didn’t go too far before.”

Before Cas had held a knife to his throat as he bit her. Before was his very first time drinking the blood of a thinking creature. Before he hadn’t cared enough about her to truly worry about losing control. But none of that seemed worth mentioning at that moment.

For her to place her trust in him like this…. He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to unpack the feelings that it stirred up deep in his core. It wasn’t the right time, and he was far from ready.

Instead, he kissed her before she could say anything else that made him feel things he wasn’t ready to feel. His tongue searched the inside her mouth with delicate strokes, the kind meant to keep her wanting more. When he drew a soft, pleading moan from the back of her throat he pulled away, smiling as her mouth tried to follow his.

Her pupils were blown wide as he stared into her eyes, searching. Trying to find even the slightest bit of hesitation. But he found nothing but desire and longing.

He held her chin and dragged his thumb over the center of her lower lip. “Will you run from me when I find you?”

Cas arched into him, putting delicious pressure on his cock and he stifled a groan. It was like every contour of her body perfectly reconciled with his. Like she was made to fit against him. “Only if you don’t stop me.”

Already, he was thinking of ways he could do that. How he could hold her body against his, how he could pin her down, maybe even tie her up. The yellow ribbon she had used to wrap up his portrait came to mind. How pretty that would look wrapped around her wrists. The possibilities were endless, and he wanted to explore each and every one. Maybe not that night, but eventually.

His lips brushed against her ear, sending goosebumps down her arms despite the warm night air. “And what happens when I catch you?” he whispered against her heated skin. “Are you going to fight me, darling?”

“Just a little.” Her breath caught when he kissed the side of her throat, working his way down the juncture of her neck and collarbone. “Not hard enough to hurt you. Besides, I don’t think I’ll want to fight you for very long anyway.”

“And why’s that?” Astarion touched his tongue to her pulse, smiling at the shiver it sent down her spine.

The soft gust of her breath feathered against his ear. “Because I think I’ll like getting caught by you.”

He wanted to say he had already caught her. After all, she was in his arms, willing and wanting. Despite everything. Despite his own foolishness and insecurities. Despite how he had tried so hard to resist her. Despite how he knew that what they had couldn’t last. The gods and the universe would never let him keep her.

But he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“So I’ll catch you and subdue you,” he said as he continued trailing kissing along her neck. “What will I get for all my hard work?”

“What would you want?”

A shudder went through her when he licked a stripe from her collarbone to the corner of her jaw. “I’m picturing you on your hands and knees, darling,” he said, his lips brushing against her ear. “Begging for my cock. But the moment I give it to you is the moment I sink my fangs into your pretty little neck. Mixing pleasure with pain. How does that sound?”

Cas made a pleased humming sound as she pressed herself into him ever so slightly like she was trying to feel what he had promised. “I think we should ditch the party.”

Astarion lifted his head and stared into her eyes again. With a little burst of tenderness that seemed to come out of nowhere, he brushed a loose lock of her silky hair behind her ear. She already had a darkened spot on her neck from where he nipped her, but it would fade quickly.

And he wanted to make a few marks that would last for days.

Anticipation glimmered in her dark eyes, but it was the smile on her lips that nearly had him undone. It had only been a few seconds, but he already missed the sensual heat of her mouth against his.

His hand cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone. She leaned into his touch, affectionate. Trusting.

“Before we do this,” he said, “how do you want to let me know if I am too rough or if I go too far? Because I won’t be nearly as restrained as I was last time.”

“Maybe a safeword?”

“Probably a good idea with these sorts of games.” He held her chin between his thumb and index finger. “I’ll let you pick it since it’ll be the last decision you make with me this evening.”

Cas bit her lower lip, but a smile pulled at the corners anyways. It was... adorable. He wasn’t sure the last time he found someone cute in a non-condescending way. It was like she was so excited to be with him, she could hardly contain it.

The way she looked up at him through her lashes lit a spark low in his stomach. There was something more than lust and anticipation in her eyes, something he couldn’t quite place, but it made him want to smile back at her.

She placed her hands on his chest, the heat of her palms like a brand through his thin shirt. Gently, she pushed herself away. “Merlot,” she said as she took a few steps backward with a bright grin on her face.

“Merlot,” he repeated back to her.

Cas took another step backwards in the direction of the party. “Give me an hour to say goodnight to people and get ready.”

“I’m not waiting an hour, darling.”

“Forty-five minutes?”

“Ten.”

“Thirty.”

“Twenty,” he said. “Any longer and you’ll be getting a spanking when I catch you.”

Cas covered her mouth with one hand and gasped in mock offense. “Oh no. I wouldn’t want that.”

Well with that tone, he definitely had to spank her now.

“Nineteen,” he said.

She flashed him one more smile before she turned around and jogged back to camp. He watched her disappear into her tent before he started back himself. The moment she left camp, the hunt would be on.

And he could hardly wait.

---

Beginning

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[its-jaytothemee]

Until I Met You - Chapter 26

Chapter 26: The General and the Harper

Pairings: Halsin x Tav

Word count: 5,125

Rating: Currently M, will be Explicit in later chapters.

Read on AO3

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Summary: While our former Harper faces down Ketheric Thorm, Halsin bonds with Arabella in camp. Part 26 of the slow burn fic. Tav and Halsin POVs.

Tags: Slow burn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual love confessions, eventual smut, angst, implied past rape/non-con and abuse, graphic description of injuries, brief suicidal thoughts.

A/N: Tav is straight up not having a good time my friends. I'm very excited to share the next couple of chapters after this!!

Tav and Karlach pushed the massive iron doors inward to open the audience chamber. At the end of the long red carpet running the length of the room was a carved stone throne. In it sat an older, imposing man with elven features.

General Ketheric Thorm.

Eyes as dark as the abyss. His grey shoulder length hair was not the silver hue seen with so many elves, but rather was more of a sickly, lifeless shade.

Every description she had heard of the paladin paled in comparison to standing before him. There was an authoritative air about him, one that let her know his will and his words were not to be questioned.

His ornate armor matched his commanding aura. The breastplate was carved to resemble a ribcage, the collar decorated to look like a necklace of fangs pointing inwards toward his throat. A metal hand rested atop each pauldron. Their clawed, silver nails looked like they were scratching into the skulls carved beneath them. Many depictions of skulls could be seen in the fabric and plating of the armor.

He no longer seemed to bear the symbol of Shar in any of his adornments.

But one piece in particular caught Tav’s eye – the strange pink stone embedded in the armor sitting on his sternum. It exuded a magical energy that filled her with dread. Carefully, she reached out with her tadpole, trying to gain entry to Ketheric’s mind.

Her parasite wiggled as she called on it but fell into a frustrated silence. Thorm did not carry a tadpole.

So, the True Souls aren’t the highest rank in this cult.

She forced herself to keep moving forward through the room as she studied him. A half-orc woman stood next to him, glowering down at a small group of goblins cowering before the two of them.

“Enough!” The woman roared as she unleashed a wave of psychic energy across the room. The force of it was enough to stop Tav and her companions in their tracks.

“We’ve heard enough of your excuses. You are here before the Absolute’s Chosen to atone for your failure. What do you have to offer in explanation?”

And that must be Disciple Z’rell.

“We did what we was told!” one of the goblins growled back, her breath coming in heavy pants after recovering from the mental onslaught Z’rell had unleashed. “Not our fault that your little drow princess and hobgoblin pet couldn’t do they jobs.”

“You were ordered to retrieve the artefact, and you failed to do so,” Z’rell snapped back. “You failed to protect your True Soul. You do not deserve to live.”

Tav could feel her companions tense around her. These goblins had been at the goblin camp they cleared out, which meant the artefact they sought was currently residing in her pack.

As she silently begged her heart to stop beating so loud, the conversation before her continued.

“You ain’t serious!” another goblin yelled back at her.

“You!” The goblin turned to face their group. “You lot were there, tell ‘im we’re loyal to the Absolute!”

“General Thorm?” Z’rell turned to Ketheric, whose eyes wandered to Tav.

“Let our newest arrival speak.” He had a soft, expectant smile spread on his face. It made her skin crawl.

Tav bit back the snarl she felt twitching at her lips and swallowed the slew of curses she ached to scream into his self-righteous face.

“You have observed their capabilities as well as their inadequacies, it would seem. What is your judgement, True Soul?”

She considered her words carefully, drawing on every ounce of political etiquette she had ingrained into herself in her youth.

“I witnessed the horrors they committed in the Absolute’s name with my own eyes.” She held Ketheric’s piercing stare. Despite the fact he wasn’t hosting a parasite, Tav still felt as if he could see straight into her mind.

“Ah, a true politician.” He smirked as he stood up, turning his attention back to the goblins. “But alas, I can coddle failure no longer. We are too close to the end, to a new beginning.”

Ketheric stood tall and proud in front of his throne. “Kill them. Quickly.”

The goblins started to panic and beg, but one of them grabbed a halberd out of the hands of the nearest cultist. She launched it at Ketheric, spearing him through armor and flesh alike and sending him stumbling backwards into his seat. The attack sent a spray of what should have been blood over the floor and his breastplate. Instead, a black, unnatural ichor ran in oozing beads along the grooves of the armor before dripping onto the stone floor.

Everyone froze, the goblin looked rather pleased with herself as she took in the sight of Ketheric Thorm lying motionless on his throne, the halberd protruding from his chest.

“Well, there’s one problem solved I suppose,” Astarion whispered as soft as a mouse.

I don’t think we’re that lucky.

Ketheric’s eyes snapped open.

He grabbed the handle of the weapon and drew it from his chest with ease before standing up and stomping back over to the goblins, dropping the halberd to the ground in front of him.

“Try again,” he said with the confidence of a man who had no cause to fear death. The confidence of an immortal man.

The goblin didn’t hesitate. 

She grabbed the weapon and aimed the curved part of the blade at his neck. The halberd once again was lodged in his skin, and he once again pulled it from his body the way one would pluck a leach from their arm. With a sick grin on his face, he brought his armor-plated hands down to crush the goblin’s skull, leaving her a lifeless pile on the floor.

His neck had stitched itself back together by the time he was standing up to shake the blood and viscera from his armored gloves.

“Dispose of the rest as you see fit,” he gave the order to Z’rell as he walked away, “or better yet, put that True Soul to use.” He nodded toward Tav. “You have far more important matters to attend to, do you not? Or have you forgotten, Disciple Z’rell?”

“Of course not, General Thorm. Thank you.” She gave him a small bow before he disappeared up the steps in front of them.

Tav stood frozen in place as she watched him leave. Her hands were balled up into fists at her side to stop them trembling.

Part of her had hoped that Jaheira overexaggerated her encounter with Ketheric. That it was an illusion or a trick of the light. But she now saw plain as day that Ketheric Thorm was indeed immortal, and it didn’t seem to be Shar’s doing. Z’rell snapped her out of her spiral.

“You heard the General. Do with them what you wish.”

Tav simply gave a curt nod. She didn’t trust her words not to betray her right now.

“They will obey any command here in the seat of the Absolute’s power. Report to me upstairs when you’ve finished.” She whipped around to go up the same stairs as Ketheric.

Tav turned her attention to the two remaining goblins.

“Y-you’re not goin’ to do anythin’ crazy, are ya?” One of the goblins cowered low to the floor. She held no love for goblins but didn’t wish to prolong their suffering.

Without another word, she drew her bow and fired two quick shots. Each landing in a goblin’s eye.

“Well, I guess that’s that.” Astarion still stood at her side. “What now?”

She looked up the stairs after Z’rell and Ketheric.

“Best not to keep her waiting,” she decided with a sigh.

She took the first step up the stairs now drenched with goblin blood. Fatigue was already tugging at her mind despite their short expedition so far. Tav pushed the feeling away so she could harden her mind against whatever awaited them at the top of Moonrise Towers.

***

Halsin struggled with his prayers and meditations all morning. Eventually, he gave up and opted to make some more potions and salves in case they were needed upon the others’ return. When he returned from his tent with some supplies, Arabella had made her way back to the fire.

“Hello, Arabella,” he said softly. “Is it alright if I sit over here with you?” Without Tav and Karlach there, he was worried he would scare her off.

“I s’pose.” She had her elbows resting on her knees so she could hold her chin up as she watched the flames in front of her.

“Thank you.” He gave her a friendly smile as he started pulling various vials and pouches from his bag.

They sat in silence for a while, the only sounds were the soft, crackling pops from the fire and the grinding of herbs and other alchemical ingredients. At one point, he looked up and Arabella had scooted just a little closer.

“Whatcha doin’?” she asked, her amber eyes shone with curiosity and the warm colors of the campfire.

“I’m preparing some ingredients to make healing potions. I like to have some extra on hand in case any of the others get hurt.”

“What kind of healing potion?”

“Just a basic one. It won’t regrow a limb, but it can take care of minor cuts and bruises at least. Or it can help dull the pain in a pinch.” He swirled the first completed potion in front of him for her to see. The thick, red liquid sloshed up the walls of the vial with his movement.

“There are potions that can grow new arms and legs?!” She perked up even further, Halsin laughed in response.

“Not quite. They can help, but it requires a very skilled healer to grow a new limb.”

She gave a disappointed grunt at his answer. Rather than continue questioning him about the potions, she grabbed a stick and started poking the fire. He was able to brew a few more before her curiosity returned.

“Do you think they’ll get hurt while they’re gone?” Her voice was a bit smaller now and she had moved closer to him again.

“Sometimes they do,” he didn’t want to lie to her, “but they always carry potions as well, and they have two people with them that can cast healing spells to help. They look out for one another and they’re very brave.”

“That’s good, I guess.” Arabella kept her eyes fixed on the fire. “Asharak was brave too.”

“He was brave. And he cared for all of you a great deal.”

Halsin remembered the young man well. Asharak was always training with the children, preparing them for a perilous journey they should never have been forced to take.

“I didn’t see him die, but I heard him yell. Mum and pops told me not to look back.” A few tears fell down her cheeks.

“They didn’t want you to see such a horrible scene, it’s a hard thing to see someone you care about die.”

“Have you seen someone die?” She turned her tear-stained face toward him.

“Yes, I’ve seen many people die. Both from sickness and battle.”

“Does it always make you sad?” Her lower lip started to quiver.

“Yes.” He slowly moved closer to her. “Life is sacred to the druids; life is what we are sworn to protect anywhere we may tread. Silvanus demands it of us to place the sanctity of living things above all else.”

“Was it his idol that I took?” She hesitated before asking.

“It was an idol dedicated to him, but it wasn’t his, per se.” Halsin paused for a moment. “Can I ask why you took it? You’re not in any trouble, I’ve just been curious.”

She sniffled. “I thought it might keep the other druids from kicking us out. They always chanted around it, and I figured if they didn’t have the idol, they couldn’t make us leave.”

Embarrassment ripped through him to fester deep in his gut. The hatred shown to the tieflings by the druids under his tutelage brought him more shame than he cared to admit. He had spent so much time shutting down the hateful insults that had been thrown at their guests.

Devils. Hellspawn. Foulbloods.

Were they not still living beings? Did they not share in nature’s bounty in the eyes of Silvanus?

Sitting here with Arabella, he just saw a child. A scared child who had been dragged between planes, through the literal hells, in the search of safety and belonging.

“Arabella, let me offer you a sincere apology on behalf of the druids in the Emerald Grove. I am so sorry for the way that you were treated. You thought you were helping your people. You didn’t deserve to be frightened in that way by Kagha and the others.”

“But I did something bad.” She wiped her face on the back of her arm with another sniffle.

“Perhaps. Stealing isn’t a kind thing to do. But that does not mean you should have been punished so harshly. And if you and your people had been treated better to begin with, you would not have felt the need to steal the idol.” Halsin extended a hand to her. She hesitated but rested one of hers in his palm. “Had I been there, we would have simply had a conversation like we’re doing now.”

“I’m sorry.” She started to sob again.

“It’s quite alright, Arabella. I cannot express how sorry I am for what you went through.” Halsin choked back the tears welling up in his eyes. “Besides, it seems like your time in possession of the idol has given you new abilities, a new purpose.”

“You think so?”

“I do. Not everyone who touches that idol is changed by it, little one. It is a powerful relic, imbued with the magic of the Oak Father. When you took it, he must have seen something in you. He does not give out his blessings lightly; I think he has big hopes for you, Arabella.” Her fingers wrapped tighter around his as he finished speaking.

“But I’m not special.” She wiped her face with her other hand.

“Don’t say that,” Halsin said with a sad chuckle, “everyone is special in their own way. You have lived but nine years of your life with so many more ahead of you. I have known you for a very short time, but it is plain to see that you are fearless and loyal, and despite any mistakes that were made, I think you have a good heart."

Not unlike someone else you know.

Halsin shook his head to push Tav from his thoughts once more.

“Thanks. Pops always says I have the heart of a dragon, don’t really know what that means though. I don’t think a dragon’s heart would fit in me.”

He laughed as her tears dried. “It simply means that you are strong and fierce. I couldn’t agree more.”

Arabella took her hands back as she composed herself once more. Her breathing seemed to calm, and she wandered over to Scratch and Lunari who rested peacefully on the other side of the fire. She gave them each gentle pats on their heads before settling into a seat on the ground.

Since she appeared to be satisfied with their conversation, Halsin went back to his work. A few more healing potions and soothing herb pastes later, Arabella had found her way to sit next to him again.

“So, what other kinds of potions are there?”

“Lots of kinds. I’d wager we could be here another full day and night if I tried to recite them all.”

“Are there potions that make you stronger?” Her eyes remained fixed on his hands as he wrapped up the herbal salves in a clean cloth.

“Oh, yes. There are potions that make you as large as a giant or as tough as a dragon. There are potions that can cause you to go mad with bloodlust and potions that make your weapons stronger in your hands.”

“What about potions that make you smarter?”

“Of course! There are many that help hone your intelligence and wisdom to help you focus on a task at hand.”

She chewed on her lip for a moment as she thought of another question. Halsin couldn’t help the smile plastered across his face. Something about the curious minds of children always brightened his day. It had been so long since he had spent any extended time with a child, his duties as Archdruid certainly didn’t give him much time to do so.

“I could teach you how to make some if you’d like,” he offered. To his surprise, she seemed to consider his offer.

“What if you taught me something else instead?” Arabella’s leg started to bounce.

“And what would that be?”

“Well, you’re a druid, so you can control plants and vines and what not, can’t you? Ever since I took that idol I could do it too, but I’m not very good at it.” She wrung her hands in her lap. “Can you show me how you do it?”

Halsin thought his heart would leap out of his chest from sheer joy. “I’d be delighted.”

He stood up and beckoned her to follow him to the edge of the camp. There was an open area towards the perimeter where she could cast spells without too much danger of damaging anything around her.

“Alright, Arabella. Why don’t you start with telling me what you know of magic.” He knelt next to her.

“Bone man says I need to listen for something called the ‘Weave,’ that it’ll guide me.”

“Withers isn’t wrong. All magic flows through the Weave, but it’s how we channel it that sets us spellcasters apart. Take Gale for example, he’s able to manipulate the threads of Weave around him directly after years of study. With the proper incantations and somatic components–” Arabella cut him off with another question.

“What’s a soh-man-tic?” She tried to sound out the word back to him.

“Right…from the beginning I suppose.” Halsin slowed down as he remembered the young tiefling likely had no previous knowledge of spellcasting. “Spells are often made up of two pieces, verbal and somatic…”

He sat next to her and spent the better part of an hour explaining the basics of magic and spells as well as their components to Arabella. She sat and listened intently, her hands came up to try and mirror Halsin’s movements whenever he showed them to her. He should have kept track of the number of questions she asked. It had to be a record of some kind.

Gale would get a kick out of this as well.

“Okay, Arabella. Are you ready to try some simple spells?” Halsin asked.

“Fuck yes!” She jumped up to yell.

Gods, how much time did she spend with Karlach last night?

“Um, alright then. I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

She was vibrating with excitement next to him. The eager smile on her face caused his own to grow alongside her.

“You’ve been able to conjure vines before, so why don’t we start with that?” He gestured to a fallen log nearby. “Try to call forth a vine to wrap around that log.”

Arabella took a deep breath and concentrated on the ground beneath the log. Her brow furrowed at the effort and her hands shot out in front of her. She gave a few grunts as the muscles in her arms strained to pull the vines from the ground. After a minute or so, her hands collapsed to her side.

“Ugh! I can’t do it. I don’t usually think about making them appear. They just do when I need them to.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s alright, little one. This is still new to you, and there is precious little life and nature to draw from in this land. The fact that you’ve been able to do it at all without training is a magnificent feat.” Halsin gave her an encouraging smile.

“Who taught you?” She looked up at him.

“A very dear friend. He found me when I was even younger than you and taught me how to speak with nature.”

“Where is he now?”

“I…I don’t know. I’m hoping I can find him soon.” Halsin tried to keep the smile on his face despite the grief he felt over Thaniel. “Let’s try again. Relax your shoulders, take deep breaths through your nose.”

She made a couple of adjustments before reaching a hand out again.

“Good, unburden your mind. Let your worries float away into the air. Think only of the life around you, sparse though it may be. Open your heart to nature, and nature will listen.”

Arabella gave a small nod as she concentrated once more. Her fingers twitched and twisted in the air, grasping for any invisible slivers of life they could catch. Halsin kept his eyes on the ground in front of them as he placed a hand on her shoulder to help channel the Weave around them into her. Not a moment later, two large, green vines sprung from the ground and twisted around the warped wood of the fallen log.

Her eyes snapped open. “I did it!”

“Well done!” His smile was as bright as hers, until she suddenly fell to her knees.

“Arabella!” He knelt next to her again. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, sorry. It just really takes a lot out of me.”

“Let’s stop for today, then. Unfortunately, these shadows drain the energy right out of us druidic types.”

Halsin escorted her back to the fire so she could rest. He could feel the fatigue washing over her, learning to wield druidic magic in a place like this was challenging to say the least. It would sap more of her energy, and he would have to keep a close watch on her, so her connection did not become corrupted by the Shadow Weave.

He would not allow Shar to lay any claim on Arabella.

She ended up falling asleep as she leaned against one of the logs they used for seating. Her neck had twisted, causing her head to sit in an uncomfortable looking position on her shoulder. Halsin carefully picked her up and moved her to the bedroll they had laid out for her nearby. Her eyelids fluttered open a bit, but closed once more as she settled in.

A melancholic smile tugged at his lips watching her peaceful face. There was a longing that returned to him, one he had pushed away for so many years, even before his time as Archdruid. He had no family left, no one of his own blood at least. As difficult as it was to admit, the life he had led over the last three hundred and fifty years left no time for a family or for children of his own.

He had loved listening to the tiefling children laugh and play in the grove. Children’s laughs had a liveliness and freedom to them that couldn’t be found in those fully grown.

Once again, he pushed the thoughts away. He had work to do, his life still allowed no time for such dreams.

No matter how horribly they made his chest ache.

***

Tav led the others upstairs to a small room housing an ornate door that buzzed with magic. The red light from it cast a sinister glow across the room.

“No one is to disturb General Thorm’s preparations. The rooftop is off limits to everyone, no one gets past these doors.” Disciple Z’rell was barking orders at the other cultists.

The other cultists gave terse nods as they scrambled about their duties.

“Excellent timing, True Soul.” She turned around to greet their party. “The goblins, tell me how they suffered. Better yet – show me.”

Tav’s parasite reeled as Z’rell forced her way in using her own. Every curtain and hidden corner of her mind was parted for her to find the memory of the goblins’ deaths.

“Over in an instant, how boring.” Z’rell gave a disapproving tut of her tongue.

“I prefer to think of it as efficient,” Tav shot back with a practiced smile, switching to her old flattering purr. “Why waste excess energy on beings so insignificant?”

“That’s it. Continue to play the part.” Her dream visitor drifted back into her thoughts.

“You make your point quite eloquently. I suppose I can make use of someone as practical as you. But surely someone of your talents could be more…ambitious.” Her lips stretched into a wily grin across the two small tusks protruding up from her jaw. “You’ve made your way through shadow and spite to answer the Absolute’s call. Let’s see what else you’re made of.”

Another psychic intrusion slammed into her as Z’rell linked their parasites together. Tav could feel the other woman carding her way through the folds of her memories, searching. Searching for proof of her devotion to the Absolute.

Tav tried to hide the rising panic within her. She had to find a way to distract Z’rell from their misdeeds against the cult. She let her mind wander away from thoughts of parasites and mind flayers landing on…

Halsin.

Z’rell opened her eyes once Halsin’s face came into view in her mind.

“He’s quite handsome for an elf, but druids tend to make such dreary lovers.”

The sputtering laughs from her companions warmed her face and ears as she pressed her lips into a hard line.

“I can feel how you long to be touched. A shame we’re preparing for war, or I might find time for you. Show you what it’s like to have a truly wild love affair.” She smirked at Tav. “But serving the Absolute allows pleasures of the mind that far surpass those of the body.”

Tav let out a relieved sigh, Z’rell seemed satisfied with her distraction.

“I’ve already been blessed to stand in Her presence. It was bliss.” She had a wistful smile on her face. “She gave me everything I wanted.”

“Good for you,” Tav crossed her arms, but kept her sweet smile spread across her face, “how do I get what I want?”

“By serving General Thorm.”

Never.

“I live to serve.” She bit her tongue and kept up her True Soul façade. The words tasted like vinegar in her mouth. “What do you need us to do?”

“There is a relic that General Thorm sent his most trusted advisor, Disciple Balthazar, to retrieve. We lost contact with him.”

“Where do we start?”

“The Thorm family mausoleum. It’s where the relic was hidden.”

Her breath caught and she prayed to every god that would listen that Z’rell didn’t hear it. The Thorm mausoleum, the source of the shadows.

A secret relic beneath Ketheric’s family mausoleum? It was a promising lead. What would he hide there besides the source of his invulnerability?

“Go there, aid Balthazar if you can, and bring the relic home.”

“Understood. We’ll gather our things and head out.” She gave her a small bow and turned to leave, but Z’rell called out to them again.

“The shadows around the mausoleum are dark and hungry, you’ll need a moonlantern to pass through them. Take one from Balthazar’s chambers.” She dangled a small key from her fingers and offered it to Tav.

So many eyes and ears around them, Tav almost didn’t dare make any comments that could blow their cover. She turned to Astarion and whispered in the softest Elvish possible.

“We’ll make a show of grabbing a moonlantern and then we’ll get the fuck out of here.”

“Fine by me. Say what you will about Cazador, but at least he didn’t leave all this dust and grime hanging around his estate,” he returned in the same low whisper.

The room they entered caused them all to gag once more. A horrid, necrotic stench hung in the air, stinging her eyes. Blood lined the walls and floor, multiple partially dissected dead bodies laid scattered around the room.

“Well, this is certainly one of the more repugnant choices of interior design that I’ve seen in my life,” Gale coughed to force the caustic air from his lungs. “I’d bet my last bottle of Blingdenstone Blush that this Balthazar is a necromancer of some variety.”

They ran in and out of Balthazar’s chambers, staying only long enough to convince the others they had gone to find a moonlantern. No one seemed to be paying them much attention anyway. Their adventuring party stopped to huddle in a corner together once they entered the audience chamber again.

“What about the tieflings taken captive? And there’s a good chance my father is being held here somewhere as well.” Wyll’s eyes darted around the room, watching their backs as they spoke in soft, hushed tones.

“Not to mention that Wulbren fellow, the gnome who was seized from Grymforge,” Gale reminded her.

“Finding where they’re held will be the easy part, we could just ask as True Souls and be pointed in their direction, I’d wager.” Tav gave a dutiful nod to another passing True Soul. “It’s getting them out that will be the problem.”

“Places like this always have secret passages and tunnels,” Wyll suggested, “should we find where they’re being held, we’ll snoop a bit more and see what we can uncover.”

“Might I ask why we’re risking our necks for this? We’ve already rescued these pitiful souls once, surely we’ve done our share,” Astarion whined but everyone whipped around to glare at him.

“Come on, Fangs, I thought we were past this.” Karlach slapped him on the back. “We’re doing this because they need our help, and we’re happy to help.” He rolled his eyes in response but didn’t object further.

As Tav continued scanning the chamber, a long trail of blood caught her eye.

“That doesn’t look good.” She waved for the others to follow. The sticky red trail led to a set of stone stairs going further down into Moonrise.

“If the prisoners are still alive, I’ll bet they’re down there.” She peered over her shoulders to make sure they were alone.

“We’ll have to be careful. If anyone else catches wind of what we’re doing, we could bring the whole of Moonrise down on us,” Wyll warned.

“Alright, gang. Get that safe word up in your brain and follow mama K!” Karlach pushed to the front of the group and started her way down the stairs.

Tav gave one final check of the room before they descended, noting the exits and the frightening number of enemies standing between them.

Getting a handful of prisoners out of this shithole was going to be much harder than she initially thought.

[tabitha42]

The Wizard's Apprentice - Chapter 12

Saffron is just a lowly apprentice with barely a successful firebolt to her name. So what chance does she have with the arch mage she's slowly falling in love with?

Gale x Tav, slow burn, eventual smut

Chapter 1 Previous chapter Next chapter

“That’s… a lot of goblins,” Saff whispered in fear as the group looked down at the camp from the nearby vantage point they’d found. 

“A lot of goblins to fuck up,” Karlach said with an eager grin. 

“Can I suggest we don’t run in all spells blazing?” Gale said firmly. “If there’s any way we can get in without having to fight our way in, I would much prefer that option.” 

“There’s goblins guarding the gate over there,” Wyll said, pointing towards a group of goblins in the distance. “That implies to me that, if we can get past them, the others will think we’ve been let in.” 

“Or they’ll think we’ve killed them and will turn on us…” Saff murmured. 

“Let’s at least go up to them and see if we’re able to talk to them,” Gale decided. “If they turn on us there’s only a few of them, we should be able to take them out. Then we can decide what to do from there.” 

Miraculously, the plan worked. Wyll managed to convince the goblins they had an audience with one of the leaders and soon the group were walking unhindered into the goblin camp. Saff hung back with Gale while Wyll and Karlach took the lead. She was incredibly nervous - she could just about handle a fight with a few goblins now, but a whole camp? She was terrified. 

The air was thick with smoke and various unpleasant smells, as well as the sounds of goblin revelry. They all grimaced at the sight of it, except Karlach, who seemed quite into the idea of a goblin party. Still, they convinced her there was no time to waste in joining in the festivities, and talked their way inside. 

“So three leaders to take out,” Wyll said as they headed into the great hall of the temple. “A goblin priestess, a hobgoblin and a drow. The guard said the drow’s at the back, so guess we’ll have to find the other two.” 

“Think we’ve found the first one,” Gale said, nodding up at the female goblin on the pedestal in the centre of the hall, blessing goblins as they lined up in front of her. 

“Let’s go!” Karlach exclaimed as she reached for her axe. 

“Let’s not ,” Gale interrupted quickly. “We’ll alert the whole temple. Maybe we can take out the other two in a more subtle location. That way we don’t have the entire goblin horde to fight on our way out.” 

Sadly the others weren’t in much better positions. The hobgoblin had his own audience as he tried and failed to cast speak with dead on a mind flayer (Gale was quick to point out what he was doing wrong, and Wyll was quick to point out they maybe shouldn’t hang around in case the mind flayer outed them as being infected on the ship rather than being the ‘True Souls’ they were posing as) and the drow, while a bit more out of the way, still had an uncomfortable number of goblins around her. 

They decided to continue searching the temple. They still had to find Halsin after all, and maybe they’d get lucky and find some other way to take out the leaders. They found and freed an adventurer from a torture rack, turned down the offer of a once-in-a-lifetime torture experience, helped Volo escape and came across an imprisoned goblin that refused to convert to the Absolute. They eventually made their way downstairs to find a group of goblins throwing rocks at an imprisoned bear. They didn’t really expect that telling the goblins to stop doing that would result in a huge fight, but when the bear managed to escape its cage, they were left with little choice. 

Wyll and Karlach wasted no time diving into the fight, shouting battle cries as they charged in. Saff tried to stay back, but they were surrounded. She summoned a firebolt to try to defend herself against the three goblins that charged at her, but was only able to slow one down as the other two reached her…

A sudden gust and crack of thunder blasted from behind her, throwing her attackers back into the far wall, leaving rolling static across their skin as they slumped to the ground. She felt the wind tug at her hair and clothes, the spark of electricity around her, but was left safely on her feet rather than blasted into the air with the others. She turned to see Gale behind her, sparks dancing on his fingers. He wasted no time and grabbed her arm while pointing to a platform at the edge of the room. 

“Up there! With me! Now!” 

More goblins stood between them and the platform, charging at them, weapons raised, but that didn’t matter - Saff knew exactly what Gale was telling her to do. With a synchronised gesture and incantation, they both reappeared in a swirl of magic up on the platform, narrowly avoiding the weapons that came crashing down on the spot they’d just been stood in. 

Gale caught Saff again as she stumbled, but the nausea faded quickly this time, and the two turned back to the fight. Wyll and Karlach almost looked like they didn’t need any help, til two worgs were released from their pens. With the advantage of the high ground Gale and Saff were able to rain fire down on them, but they weren’t invulnerable up there. Arrows flew up at them, most of which they could dodge, but not all. Saff felt one catch the side of her arm as it whistled past and could feel blood dripping down under her sleeve, but with the adrenaline of the battle she barely even noticed the pain. 

The goblins decided arrows weren’t the solution and changed tactics, running for the ladder that led up to the other side of the ledge they were stood on. Gale only realised what they were doing as they began to climb, and quickly ran over, kicking the ladder down with the goblins on it. As they hit the ground Karlach and Wyll finished them off, finally leaving them with just the bear. They prepared to fight, til the bear suddenly reared up, and in a flash of magic, an elf was standing there instead. 

And what an elf. Tall and muscled, glistening with sweat and blood… Gale might have got a bit jealous of the way Saff was staring at him, if he hadn’t been so busy staring at him himself.

“Pardon the viscera. One should cherish all of nature’s bounties… but goblin guts are quite far down the list,” he said as he wiped himself down. “You aided a bear without knowing if it would savage you? A true friend of nature! Or perhaps a lunatic. Either way, I owe thanks. I am the druid Halsin.” 

“ You’re Halsin?” Wyll said, a mixture of surprise and relief. “We came looking for you. Thank the gods you’re still alive!” 

“You did? I must say, I didn’t expect anyone to help. Unless…”

The conversation continued while Gale and Saff looked for a way to get down from their platform. The ladder had been an unintended victim of Karlach’s rage as she chopped at the goblins that were trapped underneath it after it fell, and they hoped to save as much of their magic as possible for the fights rather than using it for things like this. Eventually Gale carefully lowered himself down, grunting as he dropped down to the ground, before holding his arms out to catch Saff as she did the same. 

Sadly they learnt Halsin wasn’t able to remove the tadpoles, but he was at least able to give them another lead in their search for a cure - Moonrise Towers. First thing’s first though - they had to kill the leaders and get out of there. Gale hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of Halsin joining them in his bear form if it meant they were to start a fight everywhere they went, but he couldn’t deny that having an extra team member would be pretty useful right now. Halsin healed them of any injuries they’d suffered during the fight, and together the group set out their plan of attack. 

They decided to try to head for the drow first as she had the fewest goblins around her, but they would mostly have to follow Halsin’s lead while he was in bear form as he might not be able to make himself follow them. He also advised that if anyone was critically hurt he could transform back and heal them, but probably only after the battle was finished. 

Soon their plan was ready and they decided to loot the bodies for anything useful before making their final preparations and heading out. 

Saff knelt over a body, idly fiddling with a dagger it had on it, but her mind was elsewhere. She feared the upcoming fight - the few goblins in here hadn’t exactly been an easy fight, and there were so many more out there. Her arm was now healed, but she could still feel the blood that had seeped onto her sleeve. A stark reminder that, had she been stood just a few inches further over, she’d be dead now. All it took was one arrow…

She was taken out of her spiralling thoughts as someone knelt down next to her. She looked over and saw Gale looking at her in concern. 

“You ok?” he asked softly, having clearly seen her getting lost in her own thoughts. 

“Y-yeah. I’m just… nervous…” she admitted, her voice shaking slightly. “This is gonna be so much bigger than any fight we’ve ever done. There’s so many of them… even with Halsin, are we really going to be able to face them all?” 

He looked at her sympathetically, understanding her fear. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous himself. 

“It will be a difficult fight, for sure. But if we’re smart about this I believe we stand a chance. Remember - let the others go in first and get the goblins’ attention. Then there’s plenty of ledges and rafters for us to get to and stay safe, out of the way of the fight while still able to attack. Stay close to me - I’ll protect you.” 

He put his hand on her shoulder as he said the last words, and once again she felt her heart flutter. He had a habit of doing this to her, a certain tone he spoke in that took her breath away. Sometimes it made her feel excited, or flustered… right now though, it made her feel safe , which she desperately needed if she was to be able to face this fight. She nodded, still nervous, but slightly more confident that they might stand a chance. 

Ahead of them, the rest of the group were gathering.

“We ready to fuck up some goblins?!” Karlach shouted excitedly, raising her axe. Gale and Saff stood and joined them, reaching for their staffs, while Wyll readied his rapier. Halsin prepared his weapon too, morphing into a bear in a swirl of magic, then led the charge out the room. Gale and Saff shared one last look, before running out with the others. 

The fight was immediate. The goblins just outside the door were swiftly taken down before they even knew what was happening, but those further away jumped to battle as soon as they heard the commotion. Saff followed Gale’s instructions and teleported up with him to a ledge in the rafters where they had a bird’s eye view of the fight below. 

The pair of them focused on taking out any goblins that tried to break from the fight and run to alert the others. If no goblins were doing that, they took out ranged attackers like archers that the others couldn’t as easily get to. From their platform they were safe as the battle below unfolded, and soon the first group of goblins were dealt with. 

Gale and Saff stayed in the rafters, using their vantage point to scout the best place to attack next. They found a secluded group of goblins, told the others where to go using the tadpole connection, and soon they were taken care of too. 

They continued like this and for a while it was all going quite well… until one of the goblins managed to reach a war drum. None of them had even noticed it there, hidden round a corner, til they heard the sound echoing through the whole temple. 

Dread fell over them as the goblin horde descended. They tried to clear out as many goblins as possible before they all arrived to stop themselves getting overwhelmed, but they soon found themselves swamped by goblins. Then just to prove that things could still get worse, the leaders appeared, incandescent with rage. 

Gale and Saff tried to keep the goblins off the others while they focused on the leaders, but it wasn't easy. Halsin was finally knocked out of bear form, but that did at least give him the opportunity to give some much needed healing to Wyll and Karlach, who were taking a battering. Gale and Saff remained untouched as most of the fighting had been focused on the ground, but now goblins began to turn their attention towards them. 

Arrows started flying past them, clattering into the wall behind them. Goblins were filling the room now, and Saff could feel the charge of magic in the air as Gale began to channel more powerful spells. 

“Detono!”

A clap of thunder down on the ground swept through a whole group of them, taking them all out in one go. She looked over to Gale, seeing sparks flickering between his fingers. He cast another, and another group fell. She began to see how he must have looked in battle before the tadpole reduced his magic. How powerful he must have been…

She didn’t notice the fire arrow that flew past until it exploded as it hit the wall behind them, throwing her from the ledge in a blast of fire and sending her plummeting, dazed and defenceless, down to the ground. 

The arrow caught Gale by surprise just as much as it did Saff. As he fell he instinctively cast featherfall, but he didn't have time to check if Saff was in range. All he could do was pray that she was. 

The spell had little time to take effect and he hit the ground hard, but not hard enough to cause injury. Quickly he looked around for her, but soon started to panic when he couldn't see her. Then he saw the goblins descending on him…

On the other side of the ledge, Saff smashed through a wooden platform and hit the ground hard. Her head spun and her body ached, and as she forced her eyes open she saw the battle in front of her. Halsin, back in bear form, tore goblins to pieces while others tried to attack him from behind or jump on his back. Karlach and the drow leader were locked in battle, almost seeming to dance together between their attacks and dodges. Wyll finished off the hobgoblin then charged for the goblin priestess. She couldn't see Gale anywhere…

Then the goblins noticed her. Her eyes widened as they began charging towards her in an attack. Scrambling to her feet in a panic she tried to cast Misty Step once more to get to the high ground, but her magic failed. Falling back to simpler spells she raised her hands to cast Shockwave. This one succeeded and she managed to blast them back before they reached her, giving her just enough time to try to scramble away from them. 

Gale ran through the piles of bodies, the area round him a sea of static. He saw Karlach finally embed her axe into the drow's chest, letting out a battle cry as she did so. He saw an Eldritch Blast from Wyll that ended the priestess. He saw as they both ran to help Halsin as he was ripped once more back into elf form. But he didn't see Saff…

Then he caught sight of her, running from the goblins as she desperately threw firebolts back at them. His heart stopped as he saw an arrow suddenly pierce the back of her thigh, sending her falling to the ground with a cry of pain. Everything seemed to slow down as he saw the goblins, now with nothing to stop them, descending on her, ready to rip her to pieces…

His hands seemed to move on their own, the gestures for a spell that used to come so naturally he didn't even think about it now as he began to cast. He knew the orb would react badly to this, but that didn't enter his mind right now. All he knew was he had to act. Static once again sparked at his fingertips as the Weave built up inside him, ready to be unleashed.

“Harures!” 

Lighting burst from his fingers and streaked across the room as his voice echoed with the thunderclap that split their ears. Bolts of electricity tore through the goblins, jumping between them in a chain. Saff screamed as the goblins on top of her were suddenly fried by the lightning, then slumped down around her, their corpses smoking. 

The lightning disappeared and they were left in silence, just the crackle of static and the charge of magic in the air. Saff’s eyes met Gale’s for just a second… before the mark on his chest flashed angrily. He gasped in pain, clutched at his chest and collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

[dark-moonlust]

𖥔˚ Mixed/Other Species Mοnster Smut 𖥔˚

This masterlist will include different types of mοnsters that will be in all kinds of smutty situations with the reader. My reader inserts are usually female unless stated otherwise.

Railed in a Sundress (2 vampires x human)

Bonds of Fate -Commission (Centaur x Werewolf x Human)

The Werewolf, the Minotaur, and Their Mate

Claimed by the Bear Hybrid

Cozy Life with your Bear Hybrid

Caught Between The Fae -Commission

The Griffin’s Claim (griffin x reader)

Whispers in the Dark (fae x human reader)

Werehyena’s mate (werehyena x reader)

A Night to Remember (mothman x reader)

The Heart of the Night (black panther x femreader)

Forest Guardian PART 1 (Forest guardian x reader)

Forest Guardian PART 2

Love Across the Cosmos (alien x reader)

Alastair’s Possession PART 1 (ghost x reader)

Secret Lovers (alligator hybrid x otter f!reader)

Bound By The Rose Mark -Commission (beast x human reader)

The Cursed Kings PART 1 (3 mummies x f!reader)

The Griffin’s Claim (griffin x fhuman reader)

The Heat of the Night (humanoid black panther x fem!human)

Horner Monster Claiming (hornet monster x freader)

Unmasking Desire (fae x vampire ocs)

Wedded Bliss (eagle hybrid x freader)

Bold little human (gn!human x beast)

Deck the Halls Part 1 (Krampus x freader)

Sleigh Ride with your Satyr Part 1 (satyr x winter elf reader)

Stubborn As Ever - Commission (orc x reader)

The Elf and the Hobgoblins- Part 1 (4 hobgoblins x elf reader)

If you’re looking for more stories, chapters, polls, monster whispers, and so much more, I’ve got it all waiting on my Patreon.

[verecunda]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @firebatvillain... er... a few weeks ago, I think. Thank you! Sorry it took me so long.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

136.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

396,444.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Oh, God. Loads, too many to list. Tolkien is currently at the top of the list, and I'm also deep in the extended Jacobite Literary Universe. :D Generally, my fandoms tend to have some sort of historical and/or fantasy setting.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Amo, Amas, Amat (NATM, Jedediah/Octavius) Slightly Scandalous (NATM, Jedediah/Octavius) Kindred Spirits (Ghosts, Captain/Thomas) Reality Bites (NATM, Jedediah/Octavius) Poetry Slam (NATM, Jedediah/Octavius)

My NATM fics are still my most popular ones by a country mile. I still get almost daily kudos on all of them, which is somewhat bamboozling, given that they're pretty old, very short, and there's been a lot more NATM fic written since then. But it is nice that folks are still finding them and reading them. :D

Then there's that random Ghosts one in there, too!

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yeah, almost always. I like to let readers know I appreciate their feedback, and it's fun to flail about our favourite characters and ships. Though right now, I have to admit that I have a bit of a backlog of comments that I need to respond to. But I'll get there. :S

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I've written a few, but possibly Nunc Dimittis, which is about Morgoth sending Sauron away at the final fall of Angband. It ends with Sauron feeling the moment that Melkor is taken captive, then later, when he's cast into the Void, and realising he's now truly alone. That fic was entirely Dark Lord angst. :P

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oof, a fairly tough one. I'm quite big on giving my ships happy endings, wherever possible. But I'll go with A Few Good Years to Spend, because that whole fic was an exercise in giving Andreth and Aegnor a happy ending. But I very much liked the final scene, with Andreth growing old and Aegnor as totally, utterly besotted with her as ever. It also had them all surrounded by the various kids of the House of Bëor, and Aegnor being the confirmed favourite, and the image was cute. :3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really. I did get one really weird comment on a fic, which was basically a diatribe against the POV character. But it had nothing to do with the actual fic, it was about the character in the canon, and it seemed like it was part of some larger screed had just been c+p'd from some other site. Very strange.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yeah, every so often. I wish I wrote more tbh, because I'm a pervy wee hobgoblin. I've never even written an f/f scene or a proper threesome. So far, all my smut has been fairly tame, but I'd like to try my hand at some more kinky stuff at some point. ;)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Yeah, when inspiration strikes. I don't know about the craziest, but I think the daftest must definitely be And Long Would Mandos Hold Him, where Death from Horrible Histories meets Saeros from The Children of Húrin and is, naturally, delighted. That one was a riot to write. XD

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, but fuck, who knows. The internet is huge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

A few times, into Chinese and Russian.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really, not if you mean both of us writing. I think the closest I've come so far was when I collaborated with peasina for last year's Pod_Together, which involves teaming up to create both a written fic and a podfic version of the same. It was a really fun experience, coming up with ideas for a story together, and interesting, because it's the first time I've ever written a story specifically intended to be read aloud, so it was something to keep in mind all the time I was writing. The end result was A (Confirmed) Knight Bachelor: written version here and pod version here. I really enjoyed doing this one! :D

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

God, I don't know. I have no idea how to gauge that.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

ahahahaha... oh God, right now, it feels like all of them. XD

But really... sadly, probably the Legolas/Gimli post-LOTR fic I started. Honestly, I think the fact it was looking to end up as a multi-chapter affair kind of scared me from the get-go. Then I wrote myself into a knot trying to work out Legolas and Thranduil's dynamic immediately after the War of the Ring. No doubt it's the sort of thing that could be easily worked out with a bit of tinkering, but I got discouraged and ended up shoving the whole fic on the back-burner, where it's like to stay. :[

(Of course, talking about it inevitably makes me want to open it up and have another crack at it. But realistically, I don't think I'll ever finish it.)

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I do character voices pretty well, and in book fandoms, I think I can usually pull off a decent pastiche of the style. And on a good day, I think I can do good descriptive prose.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Fucking plots, how do they work??? On a bad day, I think my prose is overdone and pedantic: too fussy.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

It can definitely add something - authenticity, atmosphere - but should also be used with caution. Writing is all about communication, after all, and if you start writing whole screeds of conversation in a language that you're not guaranteed your target audience will understand, you're not serving the story, just trying to show off. Economy is the key, I think. I also usually include a translation, either as an endnote, or as a hover-over caption.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

lol technically, I think it must be historical RPF. I used to write wee stories about the historical peeps I was obsessed with at the time.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Oh, how the hell is anyone meant to answer a question like that.

Tagging, with no obligation: @nocompromise-noregrets, @cilil, @bryndeavour, @chiropteracupola, @regshoe, @sanguinarysanguinity, @technicallycleverdetective, @swanmaids, @cycas, and @di-daydreamer.

[traumfressers-den]

Alright lads, let's start this new year in style and with some very much self-indulgent squid/hobgoblin smut❤️🩵

Summary:

Dror Ragzlin is neither the most patient nor gentle man. But for his lover, he can make an exception.

[scrib-art]

A quick little one-shot smut I wrote this week featuring my PC Mimsi from our homebrew Pathfinder campaign (18+ ONLY).

Summary: Hobgoblin emissary Mimsi is on a diplomacy mission with a new coworker. After stumbling upon him half-naked, she finds herself in need of a little relief…

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Category: F/M (technically there's no pairing, but it's a self-gratification scene with a woman fantasizing about a man)

Word count: 2k

[babydollmarauders]

i am laying in bed, covered in clean laundry, writing smut— i am a writing hobgoblin

[ahdenyadahling]

Final Fantasy XV- Fate & Destiny

Chapter Ten, Part Two

note: mild violence/action, sexual themes (no smut this time)

We headed west, to Callatein’s Plunge. The landscape reminded me of home, but much more studded with rocks and boulders than trees and brush, as we seemed to be gaining elevation. In the distance, we saw the looming Rock of Ravatoh, the terrifying-looking volcano, which had been dormant for as long as anyone could remember. I hoped getting closer to it was not part of our journey. We passed through another tunnel, this one surrounding us with brick and concrete, dimly lit. In fact, it was getting late in the afternoon and Noctis and Prompto seemed ready for a nap. Gladio had been reading his book with one hand, the other idly twirling my odd-colored hair. Ignis was silent and uncharacteristically sulky. He didn’t even ask Gladio for his favorite coffee from the cooler by my feet.

We were nearly through the tunnel when we spotted what Noct referred to as ‘hobgoblins’ ahead. The Regalia came to a sudden halt and the four jumped out to fight. Noctis ran ahead first, calling his short sword into his hand, Gladio on his heels for backup. It hadn’t occurred to me until then, but this was my first time fighting daemons. Ignis usually had us in town or at a campsite by nightfall, avoiding all night creatures. I suppose now that I had use of the Kingsglaive, I would be required to use it. I wondered what we would have to fight once we entered these tombs. Definitely beasts and daemons more terrifying than Voretooths and Garula. I shuddered to think what evils we would encounter, but I summoned my whip and jogged beside Prompto to fight. It was over within seconds; I hardly got to get a hit in, these guys performed so well together. Yet I was in awe, watching these daemons die. Their bodies vanished into the air with a spark of purple and yellow ash, and I shuddered, almost feeling like it was crawling on me. Climbing back into the car before more could manifest, we continued onward, emerging from the tunnel unscathed and into beautiful territory.

There was a river rushing below us, and both Noct and I leaned over the door, knowing there to be excellent fishing down there. The rocks and rushing water meant lots of salmon and trout. He begged Ignis to stop, but his advisor was already cranky that most of the day had passed already, and his dissatisfaction of Gladio’s behavior was clear. Heading left, further down the road, we stopped to refuel as dark clouds rolled in, bringing rain.

It was the first I could recall since I’d met the group, and while they shopped for supplies, I stood out in the open, enjoying the cool, refreshing droplets after being in the heat of Lestallum. Being out in the wild was much more relaxing to me than being cooped in the apparent safety and convenience of the city. The sun was setting and we considered sleeping in the camper beside the gas pumps, but we were so close to our destination that Noct was willing to forego a night’s sleep to get there. Yet for once, Gladio opted to get out of the rain, and Prompto seconded the notion. The RV was slightly smaller than the one in Hammerhead, yet we all crammed into the kitchen. The stove was broken, so we had some drinks for dinner and looked over the pictures Prompto took that day. There was one of Noct and Iris standing in front of the Leville. I blushed when Gladio lauded the place, and I felt slightly queasy as bedtime approached. Again, Noct and Prompto chose the small upper bunk, and I sat on the foldout bed underneath.

Ignis approached me while Gladio was in the bathroom. He kept his voice low. “You owe me fifty Gil.”

“For what?”

He tossed me a potion and tried not to sneer, “Get rid of that thing on your neck. It’s distracting.”

I immediately lowered my eyes and I uncorked the bottle, chugging the contents, avoiding his judging gaze. I wanted to crawl into a ball and hide under the covers, I was so embarrassed and humiliated. I kept my head down just so my hair would fall over my eyes, so I wouldn’t have to look Ignis in the face. I couldn’t even find my voice to apologize.

Ignis set his hands on his slim hips, “I knew that bastard was up to something, sneaking in last night, fresh from your shower, it seems.” I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, only to see him shake his head. “I’m disappointed to say the least, Ardenia. I expected better from you. I thought we had an understanding, that you were not to instigate a relationship with him.” For a moment, I wasn’t sure if his bottom lip quivered at all, but he turned his face away so I wouldn’t take notice of the pained expression. His voice was a little harsher than usual: “Since you aren’t following my advice, could you at least be a little more discreet about it?”

I lowered my eyes in shame, “I thought we were. I mean, it just happened, I didn’t plan for it. I don’t even know if there will be a next time.”

“Did you at least use protection?”

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but apparently Gladio had exited in time to hear the question.

“Dammit, Ignis,” he roughly pushed the advisor from me by the shoulder, “What are you, my goddamn father?”

Despite the shove, Ignis stood his ground. “No, but since he is dead, I suppose someone has to—”

Gladio advanced on him, taking Ignis by the front of his jacket, “My father died honorably, defending Regis until his last breath! Cor told me! So don’t you dare—”

“This isn’t about your father,” Ignis pushed Gladio’s hands away, his temper flaring, “This is about your libido and how you care nothing for the feelings of others.”

I had heard enough. I pushed both men out of my way as I rushed to the door. “I’ll sleep in the car.”

Though Gladio said my name gently and reached a hand out to stop me, I walked out. Perhaps I should have stayed, just to hear how the two would settle this situation, but I don’t know how I wanted it to play out. I didn’t even know if because Gladio mentioned marriage, that he thought we were a couple already. Were we? Just because he had literally left his mark on me, were we together? And what did Ignis care? Why was he so upset about it? It was my responsibility to disclose this to Prompto, if I ever decided to. I laid down in the backseat, one fist on my forehead. Maybe I made a huge mistake last night, if I was feeling this guilty about it. Because of a dare, I lost my virginity to Gladio, but he said he loved me. So why did seeing the dejected expression on Ignis’s face all day make me feel like a complete tramp? Listening to the rain hit the roof, I hoped it was loud enough to block the constant doubts in my head.

By morning, the rain had stopped and the air was cool. With no notion of what happened last night or any indication that he cared whether I joined them or not, Noct began to lead the way toward the waterfall. Gladio knocked on the car window to wake me, and I hurried to catch up. Whatever Ignis and Gladio had spoken of to clear matters up, they either found common ground or hid their emotions well. I imagine it was the latter. As we headed down an overgrown path toward the river, I stopped in my tracks in terror. Blocking our route was the largest snake I had ever seen. It wasn’t just long, it had a thick, broad neck like a cobra. The beast was black and perhaps thirty feet high, three feet wide. It was way out of our element, but Noct was confident we could bring it down. We advanced on it, trying to stay behind its head, but it was fast, and we found out after taking a few hits, poisonous. After several health potions and poison antidotes were used on each of us, we were able to push through. It was really thanks to Ignis’s instructions to freeze it that gave us an advantage. After that harrowing fight, I felt brave enough to take on the giant four-foot crabs which next blocked our route. After making quick work of them, the five of us followed the path around and made it to the backside of the waterfall. The entrance was a slight opening in the rocks leading into a cold, ice-covered cavern. Prompto suggested fearfully, hopefully, that the cold would ward off daemons, and Gladio sarcastically suggested that, of course, monsters only liked the warmth. But Prompto was right; I was already chilly and wished I had something warmer on my arms. We had left our extra clothing in our bags in the Regalia, and it was too late to turn back. We needed to continue forward.

Being that most of the monsters we encountered upon arriving in this upper cavern were Imps or Flan, I opted for my bo. The worst part about this cavern wasn’t the fact that we slid down chutes twice, or that we had to fight Mindflayers when we reached the door to the tomb. It was Ignis and Gladio’s horrible puns. What makes the fact funnier is that I never would have guessed that was Ignis’s humor.

Since joining this group, this was my first time witnessing Noctis gaining his Royal Arms. The weapons he can manifest were once the weapons of his forefathers, granting him extra abilities, and only one of the Lucis bloodline could summon them. Raising his hand above the sarcophagus, the weapon of light lifted, turned mid-air, and stabbed him through the chest. I gasped, ready to rush forward, but Ignis held his hand up, halting me. Noctis was unharmed and claimed that he could now use what he called the Armiger. I had no idea what it did, but it sounded menacing.

The trek back to the entrance went more quickly, although the sun was ready to set on us again. We had only started up the hill toward the Regalia when Noctis staggered again, his hands clasping his temples, complaining of his unnatural headache. Yet this time, he said he had a vision. A burning hole in the ground. Ignis suggested it may be the Meteor site, the Disc of Cauthess.

I had heard stories from my father’s Hunter friends of that place. Hundreds of years ago, long after the War of the Gods, a meteor, massive enough to destroy Eos, entered our atmosphere. The Titan, the Archaean, the God of Earth, caught it but the force of the impact left a crater deep enough to allow lava to seep through, and the shards of the Meteor that had broken off were now mined to supply the power plant. I don’t know how much of that is true, but I suppose I would soon find out. They decided the Disc would be our next destination, just to see if we could put an end to the prince’s headaches. As the sun set, we spent one more night in the camper, and I slept alone on the pullout couch. That seemed to be our new sleeping arrangements when not camping. It made me wonder if I would be sleeping next to Gladio when we made camp again. I wondered if that was even a good idea.

Restlessly, I sat up and looked in his direction, down the hall, only to find that he was looking for me.

“Night, Deni,” he whispered, “I love you.”

We both heard a snort, and apparently not everyone was asleep yet. “I love you, Deni,” Noctis, then Prompto repeated in a mock tone. Ignis shook his head, not participating.

Despite my embarrassment, I smiled, “I love you guys, too.”

Maybe that’s it, I thought as I laid down to sleep. I can’t decide because I do love something about all of them. I was in love with all four of them in some fashion. Once I accepted that, and they seemed amiable toward me, maybe the worst was over between us all.

Poor foolish, naive me.

[grandmother-goblin]

Field Study - Chapter 10

Ao3 - Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Astarion has made a huge mistake, but how much does it really matter? Cas doesn't really mean anything to him, right? So what if she's upset? But when Astarion finds a surprise in his tent, he realizes how far he has fallen and how much he has to lose. And damn the gods, he doesn't want to lose her.

Relationships: Astarion x Female!Tav

Rating: Explicit (18+) for eventual smut.

Word Count: 5k

Chapter Tags: Astarion gets a portrait, awkward conversations, Astarion is going after what he wants, confessions.

Content Warning: Astarion thinks some not-so-nice thoughts about Gale. The thoughts he has are reflective of his character, not of me. I love Gale. Astarion just happens to be a bit pissed at him a bit in this chapter.

Astarion spent the rest of the night trapped in his own head. When he had reconvened with the others, it was like his disastrous rendezvous with the drow had never even happened. Gale and Wyll had appeared none the wiser, quietly preparing for the night ahead while Cas went through the plan one more time.

If Astarion didn’t know any better, it seemed like Cas had already pushed their argument from her mind. Yet, she couldn’t quite meet his gaze. Any time he tried to make eye contact with her, she found something to distract herself in an apparent effort to avoid looking at him all together.

Then there was the proximity. He had grown used to all of her little touches; her fingers against his hand as she passed by, a friendly bump against his shoulder, or a playful whisper in his ear. That had all stopped.

Cas was cordial, polite, and outwardly friendly. But she had distanced himself from him in a way that only he would notice.

And it fucking hurt.

So he turned his focus on the task ahead of him. Raw frustration, anger, and pain writhed within him like live snakes waiting to strike. He itched to hurt something else because it would distract him from the sharp ache in his chest.

Unfortunately for him, Cas’s plan aimed to avoid fighting and bloodshed. Initially, Astarion thought it was a great plan. It was quick, efficient, and didn’t put them in any more danger than necessary. Now that he wanted to kill something, he hated the plan.

Yet he still went along with it because if he didn’t, he’d likely get himself killed. Or end up getting Cas physically hurt. Both of which he would rather avoid. He didn’t even think about the repercussions for Wyll or Gale because he simply couldn't care less.

Cas and Gale had mapped out the temple and located the sleeping quarters for each of the three leaders ahead of time. Gale had called the plan cowardly, and maybe he was right, but even the walking encyclopedia couldn’t argue that it wasn’t effective. Like an assassin, Cas slipped into their rooms under the cover of darkness and slit the throats of the goblin leaders before they could wake.

Only one of the leaders, the hulking hobgoblin called Ragzlin, managed to put up a real fight. Thanks to a silencing spell courtesy of Gale, Ragzlin couldn’t call for help. But that didn’t stop the brute from flinging Cas against a wall like she was nothing more than a child’s doll when he awoke with her blade to his throat.

In that moment, Astarion saw red. He wasn’t sure how he did it, but he killed the hobgoblin himself. By the time he could safely go check on Cas, Wyll was already helping her to her feet with a healing potion in hand.

Other than that hiccup, the rest of the mission went rather smoothly. They found Halsin locked in a dungeon and they had to take out a few goblins to get to him, but that wasn’t any trouble. In the end, they were able to slip out of the encampment before sunrise with the druid in tow and without risking their necks more than absolutely necessary.

During the walk to the closest teleportation rune, Astarion was itching to talk to Cas. He wanted to pull her aside and apologize again. But he didn’t get the chance to. Instead, he stared at the back of her head as she chatted away with Halsin, absolutely engrossed in the research the archdruid had done on the tadpole. Astarion couldn’t find a good way to interrupt them without making things weird, so he didn’t.

He just watched, wishing Cas was talking to him instead.

Astarion’s whole body ached by the time they made it back to camp. His head pounded, the bottoms of his feet were sore, and his eyes burned from exhaustion. Thankfully, Halsin had split off from the group to return to the grove and they didn’t have to deal with that mess right away.

He ducked into his tent and another pang of emotion lanced through his chest. The bedding was still rumpled from the night before. The memory of her laying beneath him rushed to the forefront of his mind. The way her legs wrapped around his hips as he sank into her welcoming heat, the feel of her mouth against his as they stifled their moans of pleasure, and the way her eyes locked with his in the darkness….

He mentally shook off the memory as he spotted something different among the mess in his tent. Something new.

On top of his pillow sat a piece of paper, loosely rolled up and wrapped in a cheery yellow ribbon. Beneath the neat bow that tied the whole parcel together was a small rectangular card. He didn’t even need to look at it to know who it was from.

Astarion let the flap to his tent close behind him and sat on the end of his bedroll, staring at the gift as he unlaced his boots. Though his mind burned with curiosity, his desire to get comfortable won out. He quickly removed his light armor and changed into more casual clothes. Yet, when he was finished, he hesitated. If the gift was from who he thought it was from, would she still want him to have it? Should he give it back?

No. Even though the present had to have been left before they went to the goblin camp, before everything with the drow, it was still for him. He carefully picked up the parcel and slid the card out from beneath the ribbon.

Crisp, neat, handwriting that was all too familiar scrawled across the parchment and his heartbeat quickened as he read.

Astarion,

Thank you for being my friend and making me laugh. I drew this from memory since I wanted to surprise you, so it’s not as good as looking in a mirror, but it’s pretty close.

Love, Cas

P.S. I hope this isn’t weird. P.P.S If this isn’t weird, maybe I can show you how I draw nudes. P.P.P.S Okay, that part was weird but I don’t want to rewrite this note again.

A combination of amusement and disbelief pulled a chuckle out of him and he shook his head. Somehow, the mental image of Cas agonizing over something simple as a note so much that she rewrote it brought a flutter to his stomach. If she was there with him, he definitely would have given her some inspiration for a nude drawing just to show his appreciation.

But she wasn’t there, nor did she want to be.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Astarion untied the ribbon and let the paper fall open. Despite having not seen his own face in over a hundred years, he recognized himself in drawing immediately.

It was a portrait, but not the kind that wealthy people had adorning their homes with bored faces and stiff postures. It was a vibrant work of art.

Cas had drawn him in sunlight.

It almost looked like he was in motion. The smile he wore showed the tips of his fangs and his blood red eyes demanded attention with a piecing, wicked, gaze. The bright colors and dramatic shading weren’t completely realistic but they were beautiful. And the piece came together into something he couldn’t put into words.

Pressure built behind his eyes as he traced over every detail; the bite mark on his neck, a little scar on the corner of his mouth, the fall of his white hair and the embroidery on his clothes all rendered in a way he didn’t know was possible with mere colored pencils.

Astarion stared at the drawing as if he was afraid it would vanish into thin air if he looked away.

It was him.

For the first time in hundreds of years, he saw his own face. And it was all thanks to a woman he had so carelessly hurt.

“Why did she do this?” he muttered and dragged his palm down his face. 

He glanced toward the entrance to his tent. Had Cas had already begun her meditation? Perhaps he should check and see. But the weight in his chest kept him pinned to the ground and it was probably for the best. Cas needed her space. He had to respect that.

With a heavy sigh, Astarion let his head fall onto his pillow. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the fabric. Inhaling deeply, he clutched the portrait against his chest and closed his eyes, knowing his meditation would not come easily with the mess of thoughts running through his mind.

—

Astarion’s trance lasted longer than it usually did. It was most likely due to physical exhaustion, but some part of it was because he dwelled on what he was going to say to Cas.

He had made a mistake with the drow. Hells, he knew he made a mistake long before he even killed the man but seeing Cas’s reaction only solidified that unfortunate realization.

Technically, he didn’t cheat.

Cheating implied that he and Cas had some sort of official relationship, didn’t it? It wasn’t like she didn’t go off flirting with Wyll, so why was it a big deal that he just happened to go a little further? He was allowed to explore before committing to something official, wasn't he?

So much of his existence had been tainted and controlled by Cazador, he wasn’t even sure what to do with the emotions he felt weren’t anger, spite, or fear. Something as warm and gentle as the feeling Cas stirred within him felt uncomfortable. It felt fake. And he had endured enough pain in his life to know that the more comfortable he was, the more it would hurt when it was all ripped away. He didn’t want to wait for that blissful little illusion of happiness to collapse around him, so he shattered it himself.

In a way, it felt like he had escaped one master only to immediately chain himself to another.

Even as he rolled the argument over in his mind, he couldn’t convince himself of it. What he did was unfair to Cas, no matter how he tried to make himself believe otherwise.

He was the one who asked for something more with her, and she agreed to see where things would go. It wasn’t an official commitment, but it was something. And that something was going straight into a ditch never to be unearthed again if he didn’t try to fix it.

Sunlight slipped through the loosely tied entrance of his tent, slashing a stripe across the portrait still clutched to his chest. He stared at it again, inspecting every inch of the page like he was seeing it for the very first time. It was so well done, so lovingly detailed and precious. His throat felt tight as realization set in.

Cas must have been working on the portrait for some time. Before they even spent the night together, maybe even before they went to see the hag and he was attacked by the Gur. She was so busy keeping everyone alive and seeking out a cure for the tadpole, that fact that she had found time to make him such a lovely gift only meant one thing.

Cas cared about him.

Cas cared about him, and Astarion was an idiot because he cared about her too.

Jealousy and his possessive nature had gotten the best of him, and he shouldn’t have let it. If he hadn’t, Cas would probably be snuggled against his chest right now, warm and preferably naked. He wanted her to be the first thing he saw when he roused from his trance, not an empty tent.

Apart from Cazador, Astarion was his own worst enemy.

After tucking the portrait away somewhere safe where it wouldn’t get damaged, Astarion dressed and stared at the entrance to his tent. Cas was almost certainly outside working on something around camp. As much as he needed to talk to her, he hesitated. Despite his hours of meditation, he still didn’t feel ready.

To procrastinate longer, Astarion brushed his teeth and went to the river to bathe; both of which took much longer than normal. At one point he wondered if he was just putting off the conversation, or if he was just trying to make himself look the best he possibly could in hopes the effort would somehow work in his favor. Maybe it was a combination of both. He ended up waiting until his hair dried before venturing back to camp, giving him a few more minutes to find his spine.

Cas sat next to Shadowheart in front of an unlit campfire. It was midafternoon, but the sun was strong, and the two women were keeping cool by sharing a bottle of chilled white wine as Cas recalled a story about her brother.

If the wine was cold, that meant that Gale was probably awake and loitering around somewhere since he was the one with frost spells. Gale was the last person Astarion wanted to see. Not just because the know-it-all was insufferable on a good day, but because said know-it-all had been right. Astarion hadn’t been thinking of anyone but himself and his own egocentric world and ended up hurting Cas, just like Gale said. Just imagining the wizard’s smug superiority made Astarion want to punch him in the face.

Not wanting to run into Gale, Astarion gave himself exactly two more seconds of nervously fiddling with a loose thread on his shirt before he interrupted the conversation.

“I hate to intrude, but may I borrow Cas for a few minutes?” he asked, forcing a lightness to his tone that he did not feel. Anxiety gnawed at his stomach like a swarm of starving rats and he hated every second of it.

Shadowheart leaned back on one hand and swirled her wine with the other. “Only a few minutes?” she teased, giving Cas a conspiratorial smirk. “I suppose I can spare her.”

The smile from Cas’s conversation with Shadowheart lingered on her lips but faded from her eyes when she looked at him. She finished her glass of wine and set the glass down at her feet. “Sure,” she agreed with phony alacrity. “You can come with me to pick some blackberries.”

Foraging for food sounded about as appealing as stepping in horse dung, but what choice did he have? He didn’t agonize over this conversation all day for nothing.

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Shadowheart raised her glass to her lips, mischief in her eyes that said she fully expected them to be doing something else entirely.

Cas only laughed as she picked up a metal bucket from the camp’s pile of supplies. “We’ll be back in a bit.”

Shadowheart waved them off. “If you don’t come back with blackberries, I’ll be sorely disappointed.”

Judging by Cas’s tight smile, it was clear to him that she was appeasing him rather than looking forward to their little field trip. She cocked her chin toward the copse of trees bordering their campsite and started walking. Astarion swallowed down his nerves and kept pace beside her, suddenly not knowing what to say despite having the day to think about it.

Something about being around Cas made his mind go blank. It was absolutely infuriating.

For a while, they just walked together without saying a word. Nothing but the sound of songbirds overhead and leaves and twigs crackling beneath their feet accompanied the thick air between them.

Words danced on the tip of his tongue, but whenever he found himself about to say something, he bit it back at the last moment. It quickly became clear that he was the one who would have to start the conversation. Cas seemed perfectly content to walk beside him in excruciatingly awkward silence.

He glanced over at Cas’s face to try to gauge how she was feeling. It was completely impassive. In fact, she almost looked bored. His eyes traced over the thick black lashes that framed her dark eyes to the delicate slope of her nose to the smooth skin of her slender neck….

Wait.

His bite mark was gone.

A lead weight settled in his stomach as he looked over her unmarked skin. On some primal level, he felt the need to fix it. To bite her again. To claim her as his. His fangs ached with the sudden urge, but he resisted. But still, after so many days of seeing those little puncture wounds and bruised skin… the sight of her unmarred flesh felt wrong.

As if she felt the intensity of his stare, Cas swallowed and pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and said, “It’s a bit humid today."

Great. Her bite mark was gone and now she was talking about the bloody weather.

Astarion made a sound somewhere between an exasperated sigh and a groan. The awkwardness between them was like a thick fog that obscured his train of thinking. The apology he had been mulling over in his head lingered on his tongue, but instead of saying those words he said, “Thank you for the drawing.”

‘Thank you’ didn’t begin to cover the depths of gratitude he felt for the gift, but it was a start. It was better than saying nothing at all.

“Oh.” The corner of her mouth twitched as something like disappointment flashed across her face before she schooled her features into a pleasant mask, wooden and empty. Instead of looking at him, she passed the bucket she was carrying from one hand to the other by the handle. “No problem. I’m glad you liked it.”

Silence fell between them once again like an inescapable shroud. Somewhere behind them, a crow cawed, mocking him and the death of the best relationship he could remember.

Without saying anything, Cas stopped beside a blackberry bramble that bordered the trail and set the bucket down. The bush was taller than her, though some of the branches were heavy with ripe berries. She plucked a few, gathering as many as she could hold in her palm before dropping them into the bucket with a metallic thump.

For some reason, Astarion hadn’t thought she had been serious about the blackberries. They had more than enough food at camp, there was no reason for her to go out and gather more. But he knew she liked to be prepared and always needed something to tend to.

At her core, Cas was a nurturer. From day one she had been working tirelessly to make sure everyone had what they needed. Food, water, shelter, supplies….

Astarion thought back to that very first night after they escaped the mindflayers. Cas had lied to him. She had given him a bedroll, claiming it was a spare that she found and he didn’t realize it was her own until the next morning. She laughed it off, saying that he looked like he needed it more than she did.

When she had learned he was a vampire, she gave him the very blood in her veins. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to. Simply to be sure he was taken care of and she knew he would prefer it to the animal blood he had been choking down.

And when he went missing in the goblin camp, bleeding and poisoned in a cold and dusty chamber, she was the one who went looking for him. Even when she learned what he had done, she still took care of him when another might have left him to his fate.

Astarion picked at that pesky loose thread on the sleeve of his shirt. Taking a breath, he willed himself to look at Cas.

Dappled sunlight chased shadows across her face as the full tree branches above swayed in the gentle breeze. It was fitting. Almost poetic. If she was the sunlight, then he was the shadows. And he never craved the sun’s warmth more than he did at that moment.

“Cas,” he started, his voice not much louder than a whisper. “I’m sorry about what happened with the drow. Truly.”

Cas tossed a handful of berries into the bucket but didn’t look at him. “Why are you apologizing?”

Somehow the innocuous question felt like a slap to the face. Astarion’s brow drew together in bewilderment, his conciliatory air vanishing in an instant. “What do you mean ‘why am I apologizing’? You know why.”

“No, I don’t.” She said the words so nonchalantly while she worked, she might as well be talking about the weather again.

Astarion frowned, the tender feelings he had been ruminating over were warring with his incredulity. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He blinked at her. That wasn’t how she was supposed to respond. He didn’t expect her to forgive him immediately, but to question why he was apologizing in the first place? Did he have to spell it out for her, or was she just being petulant?

Cas continued not to look at him. She stood on her toes to reach a couple of large berries at the top of the bush, exposing a delicious sliver of skin when her shirt lifted with the movement. It was unfair how attracted to her he was.

A couple more berries landed in the bucket and Cas shifted to a new spot on the bush. Another minute passed in silence as Astarion unconsciously followed her movements, his mind a mess of incongruous thoughts.

Cas breathed out a sigh. “If you aren’t going to help pick berries, you should head back to camp.”

Astarion hesitated. If he turned around and headed back to camp, he might as well close the door on his relationship with Cas for good. No matter what, he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t. So he found a cluster of blackberries and started picking.

“Why don’t you help me understand what happened,” Cas said after he had picked a couple handfuls of berries.

“You saw what happened,” he said stubbornly. It was one thing to give a vague apology, but another thing entirely to lay his sins out bare for her perusal. Saying anything more felt like handing Cas his heart and a knife and begging her not to stab it repeatedly. He wanted things to go back to the way they were, to go back in time and beg his past self not to let jealousy get the better of him. But the best he could do was try to repair the damage he had already done.

“I saw you got hurt.” She tossed another couple of berries into the bucket. “I saw the drow had some bite marks, only one of which was bloody, and some rumpled clothing. I saw that you were in a similar dishabille....”

Astarion focused on his hands as he worked, suddenly unable to look at her. “I let things go too far,” he said. “I should have stopped him.”

“But you didn’t want to.”

“Not at first, no,” he admitted, although that wasn't the whole truth. The whole truth was far too complicated for him to bring up with her at that moment, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to. “But after a certain point…”

After a certain point, the only person he could think about was Cas. But he didn’t dare say that, so he let the statement hang in the air for her to draw her own conclusions.

“Then why did you do it?”

Because he was jealous. But more than that, he was scared. Terrified of losing Cas. If Wyll didn’t sweep her away, then it was only a matter of time before Cazador got to her and did who knows what. He was going to lose her either way.

He didn’t get to keep things that made him happy, so why should Cas be any different? It was his pitiful attempt to soften the blow disguised by some twisted need for revenge. He didn’t want to lose her to Wyll, so he lost himself to another person just to prove he never needed her.

Oh how wrong he was.

Instead of telling her any of that, he said something incredibly stupid. “He was practically throwing himself at me. I would have been an idiot not to take the opportunity.”

From the corner of his eye, Cas squished a berry between her fingers. She flicked the ruined fruit into the dirt below and continued as if nothing happened. “You should go back to camp.”

“The opportunity to drink his blood,” he quickly amended, almost stumbling over his words in his effort to pull his foot from his mouth. But it was too late. Cas was already turning away from him.

Astarion abandoned his section of the bush and caught her by the crook of her arm. “Cas, wait.”

She roughly shrugged her arm from his grip. “If that’s all there is to it, then we’re done here.”

Cas picked up the bucket, now filled to the brim with plump blackberries, and started back down the path.

His fingernails dug into his palm from how hard he clenched his fists. Even though she didn’t say it explicitly, he knew this was his last chance. He needed to tell her the truth. It was the only card he had left to play.

But did he really want to do it? Was it worth it? Or rather, was she worth it?

Watching her retreating figure, he felt his opportunity slipping away with each step. It was now or never. He had to try something.

“This is your fault, you know,” he called after her.

Cas stopped. A few berries tumbled to the ground when she abruptly turned on her heel, stalking back towards him. She jabbed a finger at his chest, her voice surprisingly calm when she said, “You’re the one who wanted to explore a relationship with me and then you immediately went off with someone else. How is that my fault?”

“Because you make it impossible for me to think straight!” The words shot out of his mouth before his brain could even register what he had just said. Blood drained from his face as a wave of fear washed over him. Admitting that out loud felt like opening a vein, leaving him feeling raw and exposed.

Was there any chance he could use the tadpole to erase Cas’s memory? Because that would be great.

He ran his fingers through his hair, stopping at the tips to pull as if the bit of pain on his scalp would help him gather his wits. But the words were already out. There was no taking them back.

Well, he made it this far so he might as well keep going. At least then when she rejects him, it will be a nice reminder that being ‘honest’ and doing the ‘right thing’ never worked out. He was never good at those things anyway.

“I can’t remember the last time I wanted someone the way I want you and I…” He swallowed and smoothed his hair, needing something to do with his hands. “When I saw you on Wyll’s arm I did something stupid. I thought if I was with someone else, these blasted feelings would go away. But no. I couldn’t do it. I just kept thinking about you. You’re as entrenched in my head as the damned tadpole.”

His pulse pounded in his ears. It wasn’t the whole truth, and it certainly wasn’t romantic, but it was out there. Did his words come out the way he wanted them to? Not exactly. But he wasn’t about to just let Cas walk away without trying. If that meant unlocking the cage around his heart, then so be it.

The past day had proven that Cas had found her way into every fiber of his being. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Couldn’t stop wanting her.

A moment passed. And then another. He wasn’t sure if it was seconds or it was minutes, but Cas didn’t say anything. When he finally braved a glance in her direction, he wasn’t sure what he expected. A cruel smirk? Laughter? Pity? Something to make him regret everything he just said. But it was none of those things.

Cas set the bucket down and folded her arms across his chest. The look she gave him was… thoughtful. Not good, but not bad either.

An unpleasant feeling slithered through him as his mind suddenly went to Cazador. Groveling, begging for forgiveness, waiting to hear whatever torture Cazador decided on as punishment. But he mentally shook off the feeling. This was Cas, not his former master. It wasn’t the same thing. But still, the memories lingered in the back of his mind like a phantom ready to cloak his mind in darkness.

“So what do you want to do?” Cas asked, her tone gentle and curious. Not patronizing, not pitying, not mocking. Just genuine curiosity.

He ran his hand through his hair again. “I want to forget that whole incident ever happened,” he said. “I want another chance.”

Cas’s eyes turned downcast and she pursed her lips. Then, with a sigh, she picked up the bucket and said, “I’ll think about it.”

It wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, but it was better than flat out rejection. He would have to take what he could get.

“Thank you,” he said, not knowing how else to respond. “How long do you think you’ll need?”

Cas shrugged. “I don’t know. But I’ll let you know when I figure it out. And we should get back before Shadowheart starts speculating.”

Feeling a little numb and very exposed, Astarion nodded.

He desperately wanted to come out of the conversation with a concrete answer, but all he got was a ‘maybe.’ All he could hope for is that that ‘maybe’ would eventually turn into a ‘yes.’

Maybe, one day, Cas won’t want to let him go either. Maybe she’ll want him just as much as he wanted her.

And maybe, Astarion would finally get to keep something that made him happy.

---

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