#it's giftwrap[chokes]
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i can’t believe he did this
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°˖✧♡ kinktober 2023 ♡✧˖°
masterlist
18+ only | no use of y/n | f!reader | 12 complete days | word count: varies.
just a lot of raccoon smut (usually with feelings). mind the ao3 tags.
minimal editing (ie, typos abound; concepts are superficial; in kinktober we say "fuck everything - including plot"). based on @flightlessangelwings Kinktober 2023 prompt list. back to main masterlist.
read Day 8: Turbulence ♡ cockwarming word count: 1,229 rocket needs you to hold. flarkin. still.
read Day 9: Practice ♡ hunter/prey word count: 987 rocket requests your assistance in brushing up on some of his old résumé skills.
read Day 11: Nod for Yes ♡ blindfold word count: 1,261 rocket saves you.
read Day 12: Heavy Artillery ♡ gunplay word count: 3,796 rocket sets you up with terran internet access on knowhere.
read Day 13: Proof ♡ recording rocket wants something to remember you by while he’s away. (overlaps with ⋆。°✩ Domestic Scenes in Space Travel ✩°。⋆)
read Day 14: Soft ♡ nipple/tit play word count: 4,280 rocket just wants something soft.
read Day 15: Sunshine ♡ against a wall word count: 5,489 you take a stranger home. (overlaps with upcoming fic, sunshine ☀︎ ⋆⁺☁︎⋆₊⊹)
read Day 17: Triptych ♡ praise word count: 5,514 rocket’s girlfriend is a virgin in three different universes.
read Days 18 & 19: Good Dreams ♡ dacryphilia & somnophilia word count: 3,256 rocket stays up late to finish some work.
read Day 20: Tech ♡ sex toys word count: 1,326 rocket made you something.
read Day 24: Giftwrap ♡ lingerie word count: 6,484 semi-shy, ultrafeminine reader goes shopping with friends; picks out something nice for rocket. (overlaps with upcoming fic, ⋆˚.⚘𖡼𖥧𖤣 windfall 𖤣𖥧𖡼⚘.˚⋆)
read Day 31: Wyndham; or, the Intergalactic Prometheus ♡ free space 21 ~ hate sex ♡ 23 ~ dirty talk/begging/cnc ♡ 26 ~ choking ♡ 29 ~ creampie word count: 13,512 a smutty ode to a halloween classic ♡ mary shelley’s frankenstein; or, the modern prometheus. au rocket essentially lives the creature's life; visits the high evolutionary’s bride on your wedding night per the novel. things go off the rails from there. WARNING for one-sided hate-sex; dubcon probably? references to non-sexual child abuse and grooming of reader, emotional abuse, gaslighting, vague references to suicidal ideations and planning, thoughts of death. please mind all the ao3 tags/warnings/notes.
MDNI & support banners by @/saradika-graphics heart garland divider by @/sweetmelodygraphics
#rfh fanfic#rfh kinktober#rocket raccoon x you#in kinktober we say fuck everything#including plot#fawktober2023#rocket raccoon x reader#gotg fanfiction#this fuckin raccoon#rocket raccoon#rocket raccoon fanfiction#rocket raccoon x oc#rocket x oc#rocket x you#rocket x reader#rfh masterlist#kinktober masterlist
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To Belong
Rating: Explicit 18+ only!
[AO3 Link]
[Kinktober 2023 prompt thanks to @absurdthirst! October 6th - Collar/Leash]
[[TW/CW: Dom drop, cptsd, blood, alcohol, smoking, choking, service, oral]]
Summary: Astarion and Vistri seek the help of old friends for a bit of kink coaching.
Takes place during post-canon (about 4 years after). There are SPOILERS FOR THE ENDGAME OF BG3 directly under the line!
Penance is my friend's OC and we co-wrote the group scenes. The AO3 link has more information and where you can find their companion smut to this. Which is ❤️🔥
[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]
Astarion had a roguish glint in his eyes and a smirk on his face. His hands were hidden behind his back, and it looked as though he were holding something as he strutted over to Vistri in their bedroom.
“Uh oh.”
He smiled, concealing a cheeky chuckle, “I haven’t even said anything.”
Vistri stepped closer to rest her hand on him. Her fingers found their home on his chest, and she appreciated the beating of his undead heart. It fluttered as if he were nervous.
“You don’t have to say anything. I can just tell.”
Like they shared some sort of secret, Astarion leaned forward and bent low to speak in her ear, “Now that I’m here, might as well give us a kiss.”
Vistri moved a curl away from his forehead, positively beaming. Astarion wore that soft, mischievous look of his; one of many ways he showed his adoration. So she brought her mouth up to his. That little moan he always let out whenever their lips met made, “I love you,” slip from Vistri’s tongue as she pulled away.
“I don’t think I caught that. Be a dear and repeat it for me.”
“You didn’t hear?” she teased, “Let me get closer then.” Vistri nestled her lips against his earlobe and whispered, “I love you, Astarion.”
He shivered pleasantly, just a little bit. Then she kissed his cheek affectionately before taking a step back.
The way he was looking at her was worth a whole other fight with another Netherbrain.
“And I love you, dearest Vistri,” he declared with his entire heart in his eyes.
Humming with satisfaction, she asked, “What is that behind your back?”
“A delightful little surprise,” he brought his hands around to present her with a box that was wrapped up in pretty paper.
Vistri couldn’t help the smile on her face, “You thought of me?!”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I think of you all the time! A normal, healthy amount. Just every morning, noon, and night—And all the seconds inside them.”
Laughing, she tore at the giftwrap, “I only meant it’s not a holiday or anything.”
“I don’t need a special occasion. Just you, my love, to inspire me. Now stop staring at me and open that gods damn box before I get too excited and spoil the surprise!”
“I’m opening it! Gods!” Vistri protested, feigning offense.
She lifted the lid and moved aside the tissue paper. Vistri looked back at Astarion with the biggest eyes, “You didn’t!”
He seemed genuinely pleased with himself, “I just wanted to make another of your dreams come true.”
On top of a velvety bed sat a collar. And not just any collar, but the collar. It was made of dragon scale leather and inlaid with opals and pearls.
“It matches my face!”
“That’s not too macabre, is it? I thought it was cute, but then I thought—”
“Astarion! It’s perfect!”
Vistri enveloped him in the biggest bear hug her little arms could manage, smashing into him with such force that Astarion almost toppled over. He could feel her hot breath seep through his clothing. Speaking with her face still tight against his chest, she asked with muffled concern, “But… Are you sure?”
They’d talked about doing something like this a few times over the years. Vistri yearned for his collar ever since she fell in love with him, but Astarion had been traumatized in a kennel. Astarion, being the person he was, tried to convince her he’d be fine, but Vistri didn’t want it if it wasn’t for him too. Being owned and belonging to him in the way a collar represented came from a resilient need for restoration and reclamation. It wasn’t just about Astarion feeling ready, he had to want it in the same way. It couldn’t be something he put himself through just to make her happy. It had to be something they both re-enacted in order to heal.
“I want us to have fun and live our lives the way we want,” Astarion answered, “I’m tired of Cazador still having his way with parts of my mind. I want to take back everything he’s taken, and I want to do it with you.”
Vistri had tears in her eyes, she was so happy, “It means everything to me that you trust me with this, and I promise to do everything to keep you safe.”
Astarion held her tight, resting his head on top of hers. They stood there embracing for a good few minutes before breaking apart.
“And I will do the same,” he promised.
They started slow, with Vistri simply wearing the collar around for a few days. Astarion could see her in it, knowing what it meant, and sit with how that felt before getting into anything more intimate. She’d wear it for benign conversations or reading a book. She’d take it off for any serious moments or prolonged physical contact.
Years ago, Vistri consulted Shadowheart about eventually navigating something like this with Astarion.
“It’s not that I lack experience in this…”
“Area?” Shadow suggested, “Field of study?”
“Exactly!” Vistri continued, “It’s just, all my experiences were with people who took what they wanted and didn’t consider me.”
Karlach would have scooped her into a sweeping hug, but Shadow just passed the wine and explained everything she could. And that was exactly why Vistri was admitting this in Shadow’s tent versus anyone else’s.
She explained concepts to Vistri like aftercare, Dom drop, and the simple idea of taking things step-by-step in your own timing.
“It can be easy to fall into the trap of feeling like the villain,” Shadow admitted, “The healing part is… I don’t know. Maybe it’s just doing the things that were done to you, but with everyone feeling good and okay instead of… what it actually was.”
During their trial period, as Vistri and Astarion referred to it, they would check in with each other a lot to see how things were settling. One night as they sat together on one of their sofas, Astarion answered, gently toying with the collar around her neck.
“It’s absolutely stunning on you.”
The feeling of his fingers lightly brushing along her throat drove Vistri wild, but she needed to stay grounded if she was going to keep Astarion grounded too.
“I love it almost as much as I love you. Your taste is immaculate, my dear.”
Astarion giggled happily, warm and secure, “I could have picked any old bit of leather, and you would wear it like perfection.”
“But you didn’t just pick any old bit of leather.”
“I did not,” he chuckled, “I searched and searched until I found the very best one, because you deserve no less.” He playfully poked the bridge of her nose for emphasis on the word, you.
Vistri stroked his hair, “I’ll happily be your prized pet.”
“My beloved, cherished pet…" Astarion smiled dreamily, "I rather like that.”
“I like that too.”
“Is that what this is then?”
“Do you want it to be?” Vistri checked, “That—Does it feel good to you?”
“It feels sort of wonderful, actually. Does it feel good for you?”
“Oh, it feels lovely!” she answered affectionately.
After discovering what it would mean to them, they decided to take it a step further. Vistri would wear her collar, and they’d go about their evening as usual. This time, however, Astarion would ask her to take off bits of clothing until she wore nothing else.
Vistri sitting by the fire was the picture of contentment. Flickers of light caught on the opals in her collar, making them dance. And Astarion would stare at her.
Before saying something like, “And now your shirt, my dear.”
Her eyes grew more eager with every article shed. Astarion kept asking how she felt, knowing each time the answer would be the verbal manifestation of everything sitting in her expression.
Then he’d tell her how that made him feel, “I love watching you choose to do what I want you to do.”
Since that went so well, they got confident. A couple nights later, Vistri was again left wearing nothing but her collar. Swept up by her existence that night, Astarion gave her a new kind of command.
Every moment between them was a little more intense than usual. They saw each other a little brighter, felt the ache of their love in a different way, and that filled them with the rush of brand-new lovers. It was just one of those days where they looked at each other with fresh eyes and were stunned by the sheer perfection they found in front of them. The heat on Vistri’s face grew as abundant as the slick between her thighs.
That night, she moaned every time Astarion asked her to take off another piece of clothing.
It made him feel greedy.
“Come over here,” he beckoned with a nod.
Vistri stopped performatively searching the bookshelf and turned with a smirk. “I know that tone,” she teased.
Astarion patted the spot on the sofa next to him and pouted, “Come be a good girl for Daddy.”
Vistri blushed and walked over immediately.
Astarion laughed appreciatively when she sat down, “Oh, you liked that. I can tell.”
Speechless, she bit her lip and smiled.
“Now why don’t you lay back for me, darling? I want to admire your form, and I can do it so much better when you’re in that position.”
She did as he suggested.
“That’s it, love.”
Astarion performed that predatory expression he wore so well; the one she trusted so much. “Now spread your legs for me,” he demanded with a sweeping, vampiric wave of his hand.
She did as he asked. Smirking, he moved closer, and she whimpered as he stroked her thighs. The anticipation of his touch almost outshined his actual touch. Her body knew his as the source of years of passionate ecstasy, and on top of that, it was the safest one hers had ever known. It gave itself to him entirely at the barest brush, at the least bit of attention. And here Astarion was, paying her every drop of attention and holding Vistri in both hands.
She cried out his name and wriggled under his fingers. All he had to do was run his palms up and down her thighs, and her want for him turned into madness. It was delicious enough to earn her praise, “How you purr for me when I pet you…”
“Please,” Vistri writhed, helpless; begging, “Take everything. I’m all yours.”
Astarion played with her until he couldn’t help himself. He ordered Vistri to help him undress, then claimed the home he found between her legs. They left her collar on for a while, but Astarion took it off to sink his teeth into her neck. It was the one thing they owned that they couldn’t afford to ruin with bloodstains.
Completely carried away with each other and the moment, they went a step further. Vistri screamed his name so sweetly it inspired Astarion to say, “That’s it, show us who you belong to.”
She shouted his name at every thrust, and once she started crashing around him, Astarion groaned and muttered, over and over, that he owned her. He fucking owned her. It went on for a while before he whined, spilling into her. As he rode out his pleasure, Vistri joined him in it and screamed that she was his. She was completely his.
It was a wonderful moment, but it settled over Astarion afterwards in a weird way.
Not immediately after either.
They checked in with each other as usual, and both felt fantastic. They kissed each other’s fingers and held each other; talked about everything and nothing for hours. Then they went into their trances, blissfully wrapped around each other.
It wasn’t until the next day, when Vistri secured the collar around her throat, that either of them noticed he was bothered. Astarion was excited one moment and in the next, shuddered, almost imperceptibly.
“Are you all right, darling?” she asked immediately.
The corner of his mouth lifted with a little smile, but Astarion was obviously shaken. “I’m not sure,” he questioningly stated.
“Why don’t we sit for a bit?” she suggested, carefully taking off her collar, “Hold on, it’s stuck.”
“Let me get that for you,” he tapped her shoulder, and she turned around for him to finish undoing the clasps.
Astarion looked lighter once it was off. Like some weight had lifted.
“What changed?” she asked, concerned.
He sat down next to her, “You know, I’m really not sure.”
Resting his head in her lap, Vistri played with his curls. She made a concentrated effort to hold her tongue, wanting him to have the silence he needed, and wouldn’t speak until he was ready to speak.
“It’s not like we really did or said anything we haven’t done or said before…” he started before trailing off.
“But not with a collar.”
“No, not with a collar."
Vistri swallowed the guilt and blame bubbling up over her reason. His curls were her final tether to reality, petting them gently to steady herself, “We don’t have to—”
“But I want to! That’s the tricky bit of it all. I like what we did, and it made me feel… I don’t know… Powerful and powerless all at once. And the powerlessness snuck up on me. I didn’t even know it was there until I saw you put on your collar again.”
“I’m so sorry, love.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.”
“Neither do you,” Vistri assured him. Then she asked, “Do you know what made you feel powerless?”
He thought about it, “It’s not about hurting you—You enjoy it too much for those kinds of thoughts to take purchase. Visibly, audibly—”
“Astarion!” Vistri laughed, more from relief than anything else. If he was joking again, he was starting to feel better, more himself.
“What? You just really, really, obviously adore the things I do to you. And I think that deserves to be stated out loud as often as possible.”
She raised an amused brow, “You’re getting off-topic.”
“Right!” he agreed, “Where was—Oh! Right. The powerless thing. As I said, it’s not about hurting you or doing something to you that you don’t want. It’s more about… I feel wrong for wanting you to belong to me. It isn’t about doing something that I don’t want to do. It’s about me wanting to do it in the first place.”
“It’s perfectly okay to want those things. Even with everything that’s happened.”
“I know. It just feels that way anyway.”
They just sat in that together.
Eventually, Vistri had an idea, “You know who we could always ask about this?”
Astarion chuckled, knowing exactly what she was about to suggest, “Jenny and her pretty Penny?”
“Yes! It’s about time we have them over to stay again.”
v---v v---v v---v v---v v---v
The four of them were absolutely delighted to see each other. Shadowheart and Penance looked the same as they always did, but entirely different too.
Shadow’s shock-white hair was even longer but rather than the tight, chained style she’d worn when they traveled together, she sported a softer braid. Penance had hers pulled up too, but neither had a hair out of place despite the dirt on their cloaks indicating a recent scuffle with something nasty. Penance towered over Shadowheart even more than Astarion did Vistri. His shoulders were broad, but Pen’s were broader. They were a visual contrast that made Astarion and Vistri look matched in comparison. All this to say, the tiefling was quite big. It even looked like she’d put on more muscle in the past six months. She had a few new scars too.
But it hadn’t been that long. Not really. Half a year, actually, but when you all used to live and fight together, even a week apart felt like a few years. The last time they’d all seen each other had been at Shadow and Pen’s farm, so seeing them again at their manor made it feel like even more time passed than it did.
Exclamations, hugs, and kisses exploded from the open door. Shadowheart was unusually animated, handing out such physical affections freely. Peace seemed to suit her; living in its safety had brought her to life. Penance, her stalwart sweetheart, was far more subdued by comparison, but no less affectionate. She offered Astarion a warm handshake and Vistri a kiss on the cheek. Even through their various greetings, Shadowheart and Penance always had a funny way of devoting a corner of their attention to each other at all times, as if there was an invisible tether between them.
“May we come in?” Shadowheart asked with a wink to Astarion.
“Why aren’t you a sweetheart! Yes, please step inside.”
Vistri noticed Pen wasn’t wearing her collar yet, and put her hand up to hers in blushing embarrassment.
Shadowheart could see Vistri’s discomfort for what it was and reassured her she wasn’t doing anything wrong, “It’s fine that you’re already wearing it—Moonmaiden’s mercy! It’s absolutely stunning! Astarion, what did you do? Sell a whole city?”
He laughed as they all stepped further in, “How little you think of me! I’d rob half the Upper City before selling anything.”
Everyone could feel Penance, the staunch Paladin of Lathander, tense up a little at the idea.
“Now, now, Pen,” Shadow purred, “Remember our friends and their little jokes.”
Vistri and Astarion shared a look from the corners of their eyes.
Penance insisted on taking their bags into their room despite the abundance of well-paid servants that swarmed them in the foyer.
“It’s no trouble,” she insisted, blushing under her blue-grey skin as she dismissed them.
They had a before-dinner catch up in the lounge by the fire. The deep glow of the Underdark shone through the windows.
“Sorry about the lack of sunlight, Pen,” Vistri apologized, noting their slight unease, “And the moon, Shadow.”
Shadowheart waved off her concern, “Darkness still has its moments. As for Pen…”
Her shoulders were tense, and she cleared her throat, “The light of the Dawnfather comes from within just as much as without.”
Shadowheart chuckled a little and took her hand to kiss it as if to say, What am I going to do with you?
They got the usual conversations out of the way first. Shadowheart had brought a new litter of kittens to the farm. Penance had just finished a new addition to the estate. There’d been a bit of drama between Astarion’s brothers and sisters. Lae’zel was still at war, but it was going well. Gale confirmed again there were no signs of new Elder Brain activity. They’d all gotten the same box of cigars from Karlach and Wyll.
“Well, now that we’re basically all caught up,” Shadowheart segued, “Let’s talk about why we’re all here.”
“You mean other than just to adore you two in person?” Vistri remarked with genuine flattery.
“Shadowheart said you two were exploring and that we could help. Right?” Penance asked.
Shadow placed a hand lovingly on her knee, “Precisely, love. Not to mention dinner.”
“Speaking of dinner,” Astarion said, “We still haven’t dismissed the cook in case you need any help preparing it, Pen. I know you’ve insisted, but you can always change your mind.”
Penance shook her head resolutely, “I will not change my mind. I’ve been planning this all week.”
“She wants to, Asty. Besides, Penance loves to show me all the ways she can serve, don’t you?”
The large tiefling shot her a million-gold smile. She did.
Astarion crossed his legs and languidly sat back, “Well, far be it from me to get in the way. When should we officially begin?”
“First, I’d like to reiterate what I’ve said before. However the two of you decide to explore is perfectly fine. For us, the collar is a symbol of our devotion to one another. I ordain and Penance serves. While her collar is on, she defers to me in all things. Her focus is mine. She is mine,” Shadowheart said.
Penance hung on to every word and a grin slowly spread across her face. The air shifted around them ever so slightly, charged with anticipation.
“Exactly so,” she added, “My primary attention will be on Shadowheart, so forgive me if I’m not much for conversation.”
“Typically, we keep to our roles quite strictly, but since this is all new for you, we’re happy to make exceptions as you learn,” Shadowheart finished.
Astarion tipped his head genuinely, “Thank you.”
“It’s our pleasure,” Penance smiled.
It was so easy to see why those two served the sun and the moon. Brightness poured out of the Paladin, and the Cleric was more than happy to soak up her every ray and reflect it right back. They tempered each other, complimented one another.
“You are our friends, and you know us well,” Shadowheart warned, “but we are a bit different when we’re playing formally. If anything happens that doesn’t sit right with you for any reason…”
“Safe word is ��Barcus’,” Vistri finished for her.
“Right. Ours is ‘Netheril’.”
“Rest assured,” Pen said, “It pleases me greatly to serve.”
Gods, Shadowheart practically giggled, “Isn’t she darling?”
Penance leaned in for a kiss that was met with equal fervor.
“They are so sweet,” Astarion said to Vistri.
Vistri had a smile on her face she couldn’t get rid of, “Do you think we’re that sweet from the outside?”
“We can hear you talking about us, you know,” Shadow said.
“We know,” Astarion quipped, “That’s why we’re saying it.”
Penance gave Shadowheart a final peck and then made for the kitchen. There was work to be done and she was eager to do it. Not to mention the fact that, though she loved Vistri and Astarion dearly, she could never quite settle in their presence. They were always unpredictable and bursting with energy; difficult to keep up with at length. Rather than trying, she preferred to show her affection in other ways.
A servant approached her on her way to the kitchen, but she waved him off.
“No need to fuss over me. You will have to plate everything though. You know that’s not my gift,” Penance winked.
While she cooked, Shadowheart went over everything a second, third, and fourth time. But it was nice because it gave Astarion a chance to talk to her about what happened the other night. Vistri tried her best to just watch and not chime in. Shadowheart could understand him in a way she couldn’t in this instance. Shadow and Astarion were the people who held the leash, and they were platonic friends instead of sexual partners. As Astarion’s expression shifted from anxiety to relief and then joy, it became easier and easier for Vistri to sit back and stay quiet.
When Penance finally came back into the room, she was holding her collar.
Hers was the complete opposite of Vistri’s but commanded just as much presence. Made of restored leather and backed with reinforced steel; it was plain except for a singular moonstone. It was well-worn and loved even before they’d found it in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, and since having it repaired, it was obviously well-worn and loved again.
“Oh, that’s lovely!”
Penance politely dipped her head, “Thank you, Vistri.” Then she approached Shadowheart and presented the collar to her.
“This means she’s ready,” Shadowheart explained, “Are you two ready?”
Vistri and Astarion looked to each other and nodded.
“Yes,” they both said.
Shadow looked from them to Penance. Once her eyes were on her lover, she needed only to nod. Penance lowered herself to her knees. Even so, she was still so tall.
“Can you be good for me?” Shadowheart asked.
“Yes.”
The air between them was thick with trust and care. Shadowheart smiled and buckled the collar around Pen’s neck. For a brief moment, it was as if the world around them had ceased to exist and was born anew between them. As the moment passed, Shadowheart turned to Vistri and Astarion.
“Pen gives me her collar to let me know she’s ready. And then I put the collar on her as my way of letting Pen know I’m ready.”
Vistri looked to Astarion. There was a thoughtful, delighted smirk on his face, “Hmmm, I think I like that.”
“Would you like me to take it off so you can put it on me, my dear?” Vistri asked.
Astarion smiled warmly, “I just might!”
Vistri turned around so he could unclasp it. Once it was off, he offered it back to her. She accepted with a bright smile before giving it back to him.
He smirked, “Come sit on my lap.”
Vistri felt her heart flutter as she took to her perch. His smell was all around her. She could feel his chest against hers, and the movement of his relaxed breath.
“There you are,” he said as he secured it back around her throat, “Now the whole world can see how darling we are to each other. And by the world I mean Shadowheart, Penny, and the servants.”
Penance glared at Astarion before she could stop herself. Astarion froze. He forgot that “Penny” didn’t actually like to be called that and that only Shadowheart could actually get away with it in her presence.
Shadow corrected her before Astarion could stumble over an apology.
“Penance.”
The effect was immediate. Penance looked back at her like a guilty puppy.
“I came here to show off my perfectly trained pet, and here you are glaring at our hosts.”
Shadow’s voice was stern and icy. Vistri and Astarion knew they’d be stepping into roles, but they were also facing the experience and familiarity that came with years of this kind of play between them.
Vistri squeezed Astarion’s hand, Are you okay?
He squeezed it back and nodded an, I’m all right, love. Thanks for checking.
They watched the other couple resolve their conflict. Penance bowed her head in shame and Shadowheart clicked her tongue disapprovingly.
“Misbehaving is rare for her. We do apologize.”
Astarion bowed his head, “No apologies needed, darling. It was my offense. May I offer your dear pet an apology?”
“If you must,” Shadowheart smirked.
He made eye contact and said, “I’m sorry I called you a name you don’t like. I’ll be more careful.”
“Thank you,” Shadowheart said for her as Pen bowed her head to express it, “Now, shall we admire her for a moment?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” he smirked.
Anyone could spend hours singing Pen’s praises. She was tall and broad even for a Tiefling, the result of many years of hard discipline. Her silver-blue skin was scarred and her hands calloused, evidence of her love for hard work. Her pale pink hair was shaved down on the back and sides with the rest tied back in a neat ponytail. She was terrifying to behold, and half it was just from being so beautiful.
“I cannot fathom another person who compliments you better, Shadowheart.”
“I suppose she’ll do. My great beast,” she observed.
“A mountain that greets the sun!”
Shadowheart smirked and circled Penance like a displacer beast around a hunk of raw meat. She ran her fingers over the tiefling’s biceps.
“She is quite striking, isn’t she? Well endowed,” she purred.
All the while, Penance stood perfectly still, waiting for an order and silently enjoying the attention. She was rather terrible at appreciating herself, but Shadowheart was more than happy to make up for it.
“I always knew you were a size queen,” Astarion teased.
Vistri looked up at one of the servants as he stepped into the room. He wasn’t one of the spawn, just a big fan of vampires. He was just George.
“Hello, George!” she waved.
He waved back, “Hello! Dinner is ready, by the way. If you would all please take your seats.”
As George left, Astarion stopped them all from moving to the dining room right away.
“Let’s not forget about my little dragon,” he offered Vistri a hand and pulled her to her feet.
“Exciting!” she said, “I’ll go stand next to Penance so you can admire us both at the same time.”
Shadowheart smiled at her dearest friend and Vistri smiled back. She was much warmer with Vistri, knowing discipline wasn’t as suited to her tastes as her own pet.
“Well, now, Astarion. I think you’ve got some competition. Vistri’s even prettier than you are.”
“I’d take offense to that, but I completely agree.”
Penance looked over at Vistri and winked, offering just a little encouragement of her own.
As they all moved over to the dining room, Astarion watched Shadowheart pull Penance to the side to check in. He took his cue to do the same with Vistri before sitting down at the table.
They pulled off into the room’s entryway and spoke low.
“Are you doing all right, love?” Astarion asked as he moved hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear.
“It’s a little weird, but kind of a good weird. You know?”
He chuckled, “That’s how I feel too. It’s a bit startling at times, but it’s more exciting than anything else. So, you’re doing okay?”
Vistri nodded happily, “Yes. I’m perfectly content. Are you okay?”
“I’m wonderful,” he admitted, a little shyly.
“Kiss me,” she suggested.
Astarion leaned into her, pressing her back into the wall as he pressed his lips against hers.
They found themselves at the table before Shadow and Pen.
“Everything okay?” Vistri asked when they finally joined them.
Shadowheart nodded her head, “We’re fine. Pen isn’t totally used to an audience, but it’s well in hand. Leave her to me.”
Vistri put her hand to her heart, “We’re adjusting too, darling. Don’t fret about it.”
Penance nodded.
“It’s kind of exciting though, right?” she went on, “I mean, it’s all so new, but I’m already having a wonderful time. Plus, I get to share it with you and Shadow.”
Penance nodded again.
“Though, it is a little strange too—I suppose that’s the case with anything new though… What do you think?”
Penance sighed patiently, “Vistri, I’m trying to focus.”
“Right. Sorry.”
Penance took her duty so seriously that it was hard for Vistri to feel like she wasn’t slacking in some way. Maybe she wasn’t doing this right, not paying Astarion enough attention or giving him enough deference. Vistri looked to him for reassurance and he beamed back at her. So she looked over at Shadow, but she had no criticisms to offer. Besides, she’d reminded her over and over again that pets are individuals and dynamics are unique. Pen can be as staunch as she wanted to be, and Vistri could just be Vistri.
“No need to apologize,” Shadowheart smiled. She turned to her beloved pet, “Shall we eat?”
Their first course was a salad made with crops from their garden on the Surface. As the servants brought it out, Shadowheart explained how important it was to Penance for them to have a taste of the sun.
Astarion was genuinely touched, “Thank you. I truly appreciate that.”
Food didn’t sate his hunger, but he could still taste and admire it. More importantly, Vistri would enjoy it. He looked over at her happy expression from tasting one of the tomatoes. Even though Vistri grew up in the Underdark, Astarion always felt guilty for depriving her of the Surface and its food. She loved Surface crops, and the ones traded to the Underdark were never as fresh, or grown in the wrong soil down here. Astarion couldn’t put into words how grateful he was they’d brought her some picked just earlier that day.
So instead, he gave Penance and Shadow a toothy grin and said, “I remember this dressing. You made it all the time back at camp.”
Vistri agreed, mumbling and chewing, “Mmmpphh.”
“Don’t try to talk with your mouth full,” he chided playfully, “It’s rude and we have guests.”
Vistri glared back at him but there was a glint in her eye.
“Careful, Asty,” Shadowheart warned, “If you don’t tame your pets, they get wild.”
He turned to Vistri with a devilish grin, “All the ways I can think to tame you, beloved. My mind is rushing with the possibilities.”
She answered with a hellish look that complimented his, “In honor of our wonderful chef, how about a little penance?”
Astarion raised his eyebrow, “Oh?”
Shadowheart crossed her arms in amusement, waiting to see where her friends were going to take this. She looked over at Penance and could see, by the slightest twitch of her eyebrow, that she was critiquing her food and making mental notes adjusting the recipe for her dressing as she chewed.
“You did perfectly,” she said to Pen from the corner of her mouth.
Penance wiped her mouth with her napkin and smiled at Shadowheart. Then her eyes grew wide as her moment of pleased contentment was interrupted by Vistri’s next words.
“How do we all feel about blood at the dinner table?”
At least this time they were asking.
“Not while we’re eating!” Shadowheart protested, “Excuse yourselves for a moment and go do that in another room like civilized people.”
“It’s not that taboo here,” Astarion said, “We live in a city full of vampire spawn for gods sakes.”
“We live with animals that have more restraint,” Shadowheart sighed.
He stood up dramatically and giggled as he held his hand out to Vistri, “Come, pet. This is lovely but I need some real sustenance and you need to be punished. If you’ll excuse us for a moment or two.”
Shadowheart rolled her eyes happily at the sight of them skipping out of the room. Penance finally let herself chuckle at her moonbeam’s little zinger.
“Laugh it up, devil. I’m saving your punishment for later,” Shadowheart mused.
On the other side of the wall, Astarion pushed Vistri’s back into it with an eager kiss.
“You’re supposed to punish me,” she laughed, still pressed into his lips.
“I know,” he purred, “But I do so like misbehaving with you.”
He tangled his tongue with hers and Vistri tasted their wine and Pen’s salad. She felt his hands roam over her breasts, his lips move to her neck.
“I can’t wait to fuck you,” he growled as he licked her throat.
She sighed, “Bite me.”
Grinding his hips against hers, he sunk his teeth into her neck. Just a shallow cut he’d gladly lick up until it closed. Vistri wriggled between him and the wall, trying not to cry out.
The next course was already on the table by the time they got back. Roast duck with carrots and a colorful arrangement of potatoes. It smelled divine.
Shadowheart spoke once they sat down, “Got a little bit of red on your collar there, Vistri.”
Astarion stood back up at once, “Shit!”
Vistri leaned into him as he tried to rub the stain off with his fingers, but that only spread it around.
“Fuck it!” he said, bending over to put his mouth on her collar and suck off the blood. It was just easier that way! And even if dragon scale didn’t stain, he didn’t want to tempt it.
It was quite a sight, Astarion sucking on the collar around Vistri’s neck. Shadowheart laughed, “Gods, you’re like this even when you’re not trying to be.”
“Like what?” Vistri asked, head tilted with Astarion’s mouth still hanging on her neck.
Thankfully, the collar didn’t stain.
As dinner resumed, Astarion took note of how Shadowheart interacted with her pet. It almost seemed like she was ignoring her at first, since Penance wasn’t really part of the conversation, but every once in a while she would look over at her or touch her idly.
“Penance. Astarion’s cup is empty.”
Without wasting a moment, Penance wiped her mouth with her napkin and rose from her seat. She took the bottle of wine from the servant nearby, as if he was the one behaving strangely, and refilled Astarion’s cup.
With her task complete, she paused, looking to Shadowheart for guidance.
“Vistri, would you like more wine?” Shadowheart asked.
“Please!”
Penance filled her glass and then waited, once more, for further instructions. Shadowheart looked at her, holding her attention in the palm of her hand, knowing she could hold it there forever. After a long moment of this aching, glorious tension, Shadow nodded.
“You may sit.”
Once seated, Penance was rewarded with a hand on her cheek and a soft, “Good.”
Astarion watched them with rapt attention. Seeing Shadow and Penance act the way they did took away that wrong feeling. Around them, he felt validated and free to play. These people understood power and how its exchange was more than just cruel or petty; it could be so much more. He could, for lack of a better description, be a kinder Cazador to Vistri than he ever got. He could do similar things that were done to him, but from a position of power, and with the person he trusted and adored the most wanting him to do it.
He was truly confident and playful after dinner. He and Shadowheart were also tipsy enough to start showing off.
“Penance, show them how easily you can pick me up,” Shadowheart demanded.
She swept her into her arms like Shadow was a leaf. Blushing, she stared at Pen like she was dessert.
Astarion looked over at Vistri.
“I could try?” she shrugged.
“You don’t have to try. You sweep me off my feet every day without having to lift a finger.”
Shadowheart cleared her throat and leaned into Penance’s chest. “Put me down before I get you in trouble,” she said huskily.
Penance placed her gently on the ground, but Shadow’s cheeks were a little darker. Her breath a little tighter.
Astarion twirled Vistri into the middle of everyone’s view, “She might not be able to pick me up, but her honeyed tongue could talk a devil back to the Hells. And she has! Quite a few times, actually.”
Shadow walked up and pat Vistri on the head, “I was there for that, and you were so impressive.”
Penance let out an impatient noise. Shadowheart snapped her eyes to her.
“I see,” Shadow said tightly, “You want to be punished. The way you’re carrying on while I dote on my best friend is most unbecoming.”
Penance let out a long, tense sigh.
Astarion pouted, “Darling, I’m hurt! I thought I was your best friend.”
“You’re a different best friend!” she laughed, her firm manner melting away immediately.
“My, my, Shadow,” Vistri grinned, “Everyone’s fighting over you tonight.”
Astarion came up from behind and picked Vistri up. They fell back on the couch, laughing.
“Come lay down in my lap, you sweet thing,” he whispered into her ear.
He slowly stroked her face and hair as Penance served them brandy. She didn’t imbibe herself, but she did take some water over to Shadow’s side and knelt by her knees. Shadowheart leaned down and whispered something to her that made her swallow thickly.
Astarion, eyeing the box from Karlach and Wyll, was struck with an idea.
“Vistri, darling?” he called.
“Yes, love?”
“Would you be a dear and light us some cigars?”
The glint in her eyes reflected his.
“Gladly.”
Vistri got up to grab a cigar from the box, and the back of her neck tingled in the most delightful way. It wasn’t Astarion’s orders per say, so much as it was seeing him confident and unafraid. Figuring she’d bring it to him in the manner that would most please him, Vistri sat on his lap and told him to open his mouth.
"I think I'm the one supposed to be giving the orders, my darling," he corrected.
Vistri pulled a face and Astarion clicked his tongue, “Now don’t pout love. It’s Ladies first, and we don’t want to be rude. Besides, you’ll want to save the best for last.”
He gave her bum a squeeze as she leapt off his lap to put his cigar aside and present one to Shadowheart, who then placed it in Pen’s mouth. Vistri snapped her fingers and a little flame shot up from the tip of her thumb. She held it steady at the end of Pen’s cigar until she puffed it into steady life.
“Good girl,” Astarion purred, “Now come over to me.”
She grabbed the cigar she’d put to the side and paused before bending over to meet his smirking grin. He opened his mouth, and she placed it between his teeth. She fell into Astarion’s eyes, and kept staring into them as she snapped her fingers and bent to light his cigar.
He used the opportunity to capture her, sweeping Vistri into his lap.
Penance was already turning the room into a cloudy day.
Astarion took a generous puff before taking the cigar out of his mouth to kiss Vistri. She giggled and he growled.
“Share it with me, darling?” he asked her.
She nodded, and Astarion brought his cigar to her lips. Lingering on each consonant, striking them with emphatic warning, he told her, “Take it,” and pushed his thick cigar into her mouth. Grabbing the end of it between her teeth, she did as commanded and sucked. He held it there until puffs of smoke began to billow out of her mouth, making her eyes water.
Taking it so harshly without coughing once earned her another, "Good girl," whispered low by her ear.
Shadowheart didn’t particularly care for cigars, but the wine coursing through her veins had made her peckish, and since she couldn’t feast on Penance just yet, she settled for the smoke. She looked down at her pet and cleared her throat, batting her eyelashes. She patted the spot on the sofa next to her, and Penance hopped up with a grin.
Slowly, Shadowheart parted her lips and snaked her tongue just past the edge of her mouth. An invitation that Penance answered reverently with the end of her cigar. It was maddening to watch her inhale, but that madness was its own pleasure, and it was made even sweeter knowing that it was shared.
Shadowheart stared deep into Penance’s eyes and exhaled. It took every bit of the tiefling’s self-control not to lean in and devour her, but that would have been overstepping. So, she took the cigar back and sucked down a huge lungful of smoke before letting it drift slowly from her nose.
“I don’t know how you bear it, but then I remember you’re an infernal beast,” Shadowheart said evenly.
Penance’s eyes offered plenty of searing reply, “Your infernal beast.”
“You know Astarion,” Shadowheart mused, “Do you remember how I mentioned that wild pets need taming?” Astarion reluctantly pulled his gaze from Vistri.
“I do.”
Shadowheart pushed Penance gently off the couch and back onto the floor. Their eyes stayed trained on one another, and it was clear the time for company was coming to a swift end.
“I was speaking from experience. My pet may seem well-behaved now, but she’s got a devilish streak in her that must always be carefully minded. Shall I show you how I handle such a brute?” she asked.
Astarion leaned in close to whisper in Vistri’s ear, “Why do I feel like I’m in trouble too?”
Vistri giggled and kissed his cheek. “So scary,” she murmured back, “Reminds me of all the times we misplaced her eyeliner.”
Shadowheart snapped her fingers and Penance went entirely still, like a coiled spring.
“Pushups, I think,” Shadowheart said, pointing to the middle of the room, “Go on.”
Penance got to her feet and took a long pull on the cigar between her lips, never dropping her gaze. The length of the puff looked almost painful, but she didn’t so much as flinch. She took another, letting the smoke shoot out of her nose in long plumes. A devil indeed. Then she passed it to Shadowheart and made her way to the middle of the room.
“A beast needs a firm hand lest she start to forget herself.” Shadowheart said firmly.
Without skipping a beat, Penance dropped onto her hands and began slow, measured pushups. Her short-sleeved shirt gave an excellent view of her corded arms as they pumped. For a few moments, no one spoke. Everyone simply watched this display of powerful submission until the sound of Pen’s breathing became too much to bear.
Vistri twirled around in Astarion’s lap with the full intention of making a joke, to relieve a little of the thick tension in the room, but misjudged the force of her shoulders and her throat pressed into his mouth. He froze. Under usual circumstances, he would simply indulge in Vistri’s blood, with her permission, of course, but not in front of their guests.
He had to restrain himself in present company and that proved quite difficult with her so close and so sweet in his nose. Despite himself, he let out a soft, low moan.
Penance stopped moving, her attention similarly pulled to Shadowheart who had…also let out a rather telling noise.
The evening was promptly dissolved.
“Ahem, I think we should all retire before we lose what’s left of our reason.” Shadowheart announced.
Astarion took a moment to stand up and bid them goodnight. He turned to Vistri and commanded her to do the same.
“Say goodnight to our guests, pet.”
She blushed and bid them sweet dreams.
When Penance and Shadowheart left, they were alone.
He tackled her onto the couch, kissing her deeply and whining from his throat. Vistri met him with a fury that was hard to contain. They tasted like brandy and smoke.
“Take me to bed,” she begged him.
“Naughty, Naughty,” Astarion chided, full of heat, “We haven’t even settled our little bet.”
Their own cigar was smoked about halfway, but the ashtray with Pen’s was completely ash.
“Well, it's all gone but that took about ten minutes, so I say we both lose.”
v---v v---v v---v v---v v---v
They had a leash for Vistri’s collar they hadn't used yet. It wasn't near as grand; just a fine, black leather whose simplicity complimented the collar's grandiosity. After tonight’s dinner, Astarion felt ready. He put on the airs of a vampire lord to command her, “Come bind yourself to me, you sweet, delicious treat.”
Vistri gladly walked over to be taken. He fit her leash into the loop on her collar, and she was tethered.
He reached out for her face, caressing her cheek, “You just want to please me, don’t you?”
She nodded, “More than anything.”
“And what do you get out of it?”
“Your happiness.”
Astarion kissed her, then said, “That’s about me again.”
“I know.”
She was so sweet he had to kiss her one more time, “Then if you really want it all to be about me, you’ll serve.”
Vistri ran her hands along his chest, “I want to sate every desire. Until you feel perfect.”
“Believe me, my dear. You will.”
He fingered the leash between them, then tugged it to bring her closer, “You like this?”
She nodded with enthusiasm, “Oh, I like this.”
Astarion smirked, “Then get on your knees.”
His tone was firm, but still warm. Vistri kneeled and he towered over her, looking down and running his hands all through her hair. He positioned her head between his legs at the level of his hips. Vistri could see the hard imprint of him through his trousers and needed to put it in her mouth.
He ran his thumb across her bottom lip, then grabbed her chin to make her meet his gaze. Tightening his grip on the leash shortened the give between them, and he wrapped the leather around his fist a few times, “Now you can’t get away. Any regrets?”
Vistri crawled on her knees until she was pressed into him. Her face rested on his thigh and nuzzled it, “No regrets but that you are not yet buried deeply into my ache.”
Astarion grabbed a fistful of hair at the top of her head and pulled. She gasped pleasantly.
“Now don’t be so vulgar, darling. At least not yet.”
He let go of her hair to play with her lips again. She kissed his fingertips as they danced across her. He only abandoned them to undo the lacings on his trousers, and Vistri’s breath caught on her throat anticipating the sight of him.
He was stunning. His head pushing boldly passed his foreskin was art. His thickness was both threat and promise. Vistri turned her gaze back to his face and saw his fangs bared in his grin. So many parts of himself that he sank into her. She wanted them all, wanted all of him; to be devoured and taken over, owned.
“I long for it, Astarion,” she moaned, nestling her cheek into his palm.
He grabbed hold of himself and pressed his tip against her mouth, just like he had with the cigar. He watched her open up to take it, and held it just there between her lips.
His eyes rolled back for a second as her tongue flickered along it. He sighed, “Now that’s not fair.”
Vistri stopped.
“I didn’t say stop.”
She did it again.
“That’s better, pet,” he ran his hands through her hair.
Astarion took himself in hand again to push further into her lips. Just passed her teeth, just like he did earlier in the evening.
“You have to open your mouth so wide to take me, my dear.”
The sides of his lip twitched as she played with his head, now completely nestled on her tongue.
“Oooh,” he moaned, “You treat me so well.”
Vistri felt him take a slightly wider stance and tug her leash even tighter, bringing him even deeper into her mouth.
He grabbed hold of her chin again. He loved to cradle Vistri’s face in his palms with his cock in her mouth. He loved seeing himself disappear into her lips and come out coated in her sweet taste.
“Would you like the whole thing?”
She moaned her desperate consent, and he thrust himself into her throat. Steadily, his hips rocked against her lips. Slow, rolling thrusts in and out; languid.
Astarion watched, looking down at her, holding her leash. He felt… good. Like he had all the power in the world. Like she was his servile spawn and him a true lord.
And that didn’t feel bad.
He didn’t feel bad.
Astarion stared, drinking in her show until the drool started to drip from the corners of her mouth. Then he pulled himself out very slowly, just free of her lips, keeping himself right in front of her.
“Swallow,” he commanded.
Vistri caught her breath and swallowed the combination of his and her salivations.
Astarion patted her on the head as a reward, “That’s a good pet.”
There was still wetness dripping down her face, at the corners of her mouth and a little on her neck. He wiped her off with his fingers, and licked them, tasting her on his hands.
“Sod it! I can’t take any more of this,” he said, scooping her up to throw her onto their bed, full of rakish charm.
Vistri landed on her back. The bed bounced lightly with impact as Astarion crawled over on his knees to straddle her. He tugged the leash tight between them and pulled until she sat up to meet his lips. Astarion let out the hungriest groan and pushed her back down after adding more give to her tether.
Vistri was putty. Begging, writhing putty.
He stroked the spot on her neck that he drank from earlier. With the dragon blood running through her veins, it had already healed.
“We’ll just have to mark you again right after this. You did promise to sate my every desire, did you not?”
“I want the same thing,” she said thickly.
Astarion smirked. He was going to have to satisfy her to set her mind right. She was literally lost in her want.
The sight of her so helpless to him made him feel like he really belonged somewhere.
He pried apart her knees and leaned closer, his hands crawling up her leash. As he put himself inside her, after they both shouted out with closed eyes and opened them again to behold each other, he made another offer.
“Would you like me to wrap this around your throat as I fuck you?”
“Please,” she begged.
Astarion unhooked her leash and wrapped it around her neck like a scarf. Keeping her safe would require just enough concentration that he wouldn’t have to worry about losing himself. It was a lingering threat that allowed Vistri to let go completely and Astarion to stay grounded.
The collar was firm, and the leash was tight without being restrictive. Both pressures on her neck only made Vistri more eager for his teeth.
With one hand on her leash, and the other caressing her waist, he pumped into her. It was overwhelming. Trust was made more explicit and exposed their raw cores. The leash and collar wrapped around her were his arms cradling her heart as she exploded like a star. Vistri made Astarion feel so safe, he could just toy with her and take; to be a tyrant without being horrible.
He could fracture her, and she could fracture him, and at the end of it, know themselves and each other better.
Astarion screamed, “Thank you,” over and over as he came. Vistri was so spent by the time that happened, her voice was too rough to do more than whimper with tears in her eyes.
They panted and smiled at each other so wide they ended up laughing. He unclasped her collar before she left to refresh herself. When she jumped back into bed and into his embrace, she offered him her neck.
“You greedy thing,” he spoke against her skin before sinking into it.
v---v v---v v---v v---v v---v
Shadowheart checked in with Astarion the next morning.
“So,” she took a careful sip of her hot tea, “How is everything now that you’ve…”
“Fully stepped into my role?”
She nodded her head.
His voice was light, “We got out the leash last night!”
“How very exciting!” she smirked.
Astarion took a sip and adopted a serious face as he put down his cup.
“Uh oh.”
“Why is everyone always so quick to say that to me?”
“Because you’re you,” she smiled, “Now what are you on about?”
“I really… I really appreciate you and Pen for—”
She shook her head and waved her hand like it was no big deal.
“But it is a big deal. To me. So, I thank you,” he bowed his head, “You really made me feel better about myself, more myself. Does that make any sense?”
Shadowheart reached forward to give his knee an affectionate tap, “It makes sense, Astarion. And I’m happy for you. Truly.”
Penance and Vistri came over in an unusual chorus of laughter. Pen’s deep, rolling cackles were broken up by Vistri’s loud, pitchy squeals.
“What’s so funny, love?” Shadowheart asked.
Vistri squeezed her shoulder in greeting and winked, “Pet stuff, darling.”
“Oh, how ominous!” Astarion teased, “Dear Shadowheart, I do believe they’ve been talking about us behind our backs."
"Unlike you, mosquito,” Penance said, “The things I say behind people's backs are exactly as I would say to their faces."
Before Astarion could protest, Vistri hopped over and kissed the top of his head.
“I quite cherish the things you do behind my back,” she smirked.
Penance gave a little snort and looked over to Shadowheart with a wink, who just stared back.
“Don’t fish for compliments so early in the day,” she sighed. The smirk on her lips was more than enough regardless.
That evening, Penance and Vistri wore their collars again. Astarion and Shadowheart were seated on one of the couches as if it were a shared throne. Penance and Vistri held out their collars to their respective partners, and Astarion and Shadowheart smiled at each other as they secured them around their necks.
Dinner was just the same as last night but with everyone a little more settled. Everything more okay because they’d done it once before.
“A toast,” Astarion offered, the wine in his glass a bit thicker than the others, “To friendship, and above all…” his eyes sort of welled up, and he had to pause before continuing, “To family.”
The women raised their glasses, smiling warmly at Astarion as they met his toast.
“To family,” Vistri and Shadowheart said, and Penance nodded.
[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]
#vistarion#kinktober 2023#absurdthirst kinktober list#prompt fill#collaboration#vistri#astarion#balders gate 3#full fic#astarion x tav#to belong fic#BrishFics#fluff#smut#lemon#bg3 spoilers
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feeling so small, vulnerable and hollow
#ventart#sigh#i did a lot today#i went to work#worked on/took/uploaded/edited/compiled my documents and photos#paid the fee for the uni app (thank you germy ;;)#finally submitted my official uni application#finished 3 commissions#paid off my phone and insurance bills#got my package#wrote msgs and giftwrapped it#supported a friend's stream#...i did a lot today#and yet i feel so terribly hollow and sad#but at least i can't tell myself i was useless today#though it chokes me up inside#to feel so horribly empty despite what i did#I no longer feel secure or safe in percieved love#...guess it's true#productivity doesn't equate my worth or happiness#it's a good facade so people think you're functioning and they don't have to worry about you#and i can almost tell myself i don't have to worry about me either#but i do#we'll retire for tonight#you did good rei don't be mean to yourself
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bf: *walks into the living room to find a hellscape of wrapping paper, tape, ribbon, amazon boxes, with christmas music blasting angrily from the stereo, and me in the center of it all swearing at the universe* bf: ....... bf: *backs out slowly*
#I LOVE THE HOLIDAYS BUT GIFTWRAPPING CAN CHOKE#there is no surprise. everyone knows what they're getting. why must we maintain this charade????#i. 「 ooc. 」#anyway how was your day
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i’ve been looking through the tag for the show Good Girls and
you have to search “good girls nbc” or some variation thereof because just “good girls” has been blocked by tumblr’s anti-horny measures
i’m TRYING to find gifs of manny montana laughing while choking on his own blood, but all anyone cares about is beth and rio having sex. there’s like a million gifs of them looking at each other, i want the VIOLENCE
i would also settle for either of the scenes where rio beat up and giftwrapped a man for beth to kill, but still no.
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The Ink Demonth, Day 20: Redesign
Summary: Alice Angel the ragdoll, who’s learned to put pieces of other things together to be something else. It may have been cruel, but she learned from the best.
Word Count: 604
Content warnings for: Gore, implied violence and dismemberment.
Ch….CRACK!
Ch…CRACK!
The machinery in the walls seemed to tilt if you stared at them too long, watching the pipes and tubes grunt and spur. It made her wonder how much of her world was like this- thin paper giftwrapping a metal monstrosity.
If she lived in the machine.
Meantime, the thing writhing in her talons had other things to worry about.
“She’s too bland!” one voice said.
Knuckles tightened, making the Striker trapped within her grasp choke amid their nonsense garbling as they were mercilessly dragged across the floor with no mind of what they’d be slammed into along the way. Poor thing already broke one of their legs.
Faded, a smile pulled the corner of her lips. Might as well put it out of its misery.
Might as well put wasted parts to good use.
“She’s too…uncanny,” said the other upon the first revision.
She couldn’t make herself look at it a second longer, even as she pulled them both into the light. The spider unfocused a human eye as if dizzy with the brightness, the cartoon one flat as ever.
But then- as their sight adjusted- an eye darting around to see saw far too much. Its iris constricted, and the glimmer of terrible things waiting for them glazed their eye over.
Joey wasn’t the only one that could do something awful with a machine.
“Something about her eyes…don’t sit in the right place.”
From their angle, the Striker couldn’t get a good glimpse of their captor’s face- soon enough that or their torturer. She kept her head tilted always so the shadows fell into the curve of her eyesockets, the sides of her hollow face, as if she knew exactly where the spotlight hit and how it would cloak her pale, desecrated skin. They would see flashes in the split seconds before whacks of a rusty ax ripped the air before it ripped their head; the reflection of parted lips with shredded flesh covering a hole in her cheek, swollen puss near where a left ear should have been, and then- with her panting, rageful breath filling their head more than any shock of electricity or any of their own screams muffled through a mouth stitched shut-
There was absolutely nothing to see in her left eye. It was empty, soulless.
And despite everything she knew about acting, the other was scared.
“Don’t worry, Henry!”
Alice stood over the spider that wandered into her web, head tilted and hair falling past her shoulders and face. She breathed in, breathed out, still catching it after creating this massacre. They were utterly obliterated- detached arms from the shoulder and an open chest cavity, ribs she dug out by hand and pulled forward until they shot out like nails on the other side of a thin piece of wood.
The only thing that kept this going time after time was the fact that before and after alike, all these beings’ eyes were dead. Her bodies were hers to take.
They weren’t using them anyway. Not as they should.
“…She’ll be perfect soon enough.”
The cobwebs in the corner were the only known witness as she fell to her knees, holding her shoulders as yet again, she had to forget what made her hurt. It was worth it; it was worthwhile to be someone again. Yelps of exhaustion became ones of agony, still being half-made, discarded, and alone. The corpse’s ink dribbled to the floor, pools of inhumanity that she and this monster had in common.
Two creatures sat her chamber, torn apart and redesigned for someone else’s use.
Someone else’s outlet for cruelty.
#the ink demonth#bendy and the ink machine#tak writes#alice angel#joey drew#batim striker#batim#batim alice#batim fanfiction#fanfiction
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A weirdly written thing for Keith's birthday
'Uh.. are you sure I can take this?'
'Of course, Keith! It's your birthday after all!'
Keith shakily and hesitantly reaches for the large, giftwrapped box Lance is holding in his arms. He almost feels too weird about accepting the gift. Keith wasn't too used to these sort of holidays. But, he figures it would be a lot more rude if he didnt accept the gift. So Keith slowly pulls the box closer, staring at the bright red bow on the top. He almost starts to feel a bit choked up.
'Woah.. dude, are you alright??'
'Yeah.. I'm g-good..'
Keith laughs, his voice cracking.
'Dude, you haven't even opened it! Don't start crying yet!'
Lance laughs, playfully nudging Keith.
'O-okay, okay!'
Keith gently begins taking off the bow, uncovering the contents of the box. His eyes widen. A large, red hippo is placed inside.
'..Oh my god, how did you-?'
'I just know these sort of things, dude.'
Lance grins at the sight of Keith pulling the heavy plush out of the box and squeezing it as tight as he can.
Keith buries his face into the soft hippo, not so subtly trying to hide the fact that he started crying. This had to be his best birthday yet.
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Never mess with Gary Szabo or his @bootit.taranaki members. It will end very bad for you. The legend that is Gary Szabo continues to grow. #Repost @zistenostora (@get_repost) ・・・ So, I've got assaulted on Friday early morning, few minutes into my bootcamp session, a guy (on drugs we guess) verbally abused us, pushed one of my client and charged me. I think he picked the wrong guy. Took him down, put him to sleep for a few seconds, so I could roll him over; maintained control until the cops arrived. I'm not here to brag about it. I'm here to tell you after decades of striking martial arts (Nihon Ju Jutsu, Karate and Muay Thai) I ended up using BJJ. Takedown, guard pass, mount, head and arm choke, dismount [sleep], mount, giftwrap, backtake. Blue Belt syllabus, praise chief @pinasimpson and the crew @southerntribeshq. I could remain calm I didn't even stop the session, as you can see people around me doing burpees, lol. Unfortunately I couldn't deescalate the situation, but glad no-one got hurt. Really happy I didn't knock him out with punches, or anything like that. #helandednopunches #BJJworksbitches #streetjitsu
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Day 31: Wyndham; or, The Galactic Prometheus
i decided to base this final kinktober 2023 piece on a number of days i missed. this will not be everyone’s cup of tea so please, please read the prompts, tags, and warnings. darker than my usual offerings.
smut ♡ (day 31 ~ free space) day 21: hate sex ♡ day 23: dirty talk, begging, cnc ♡ day 26: choking ♡ day 29: creampie (tbh more of an "inspired by" than a strict adherence) 18+ only • Word Count: 13,512 Summary: a smutty ode to a classic ♡ mary shelley’s frankenstein; or, the modern prometheus. au rocket essentially lives the creature's life; visits the high evolutionary’s bride on her wedding night per the novel. things go off the rails from there. no use of y/n & minimal editing. heyooo this is fucked, sorry. i swear i'm not as depressed as these last two offerings make me sound and tomorrow's florescence❀ post should prove that… WARNING for one-sided hate-sex; dubcon i think? not entirely sure how to flag this. i mean, reader is very into it and at least some level of explicit consent is given but there’s definitely an argument for coercion and like, very imbalanced power dynamics, with no safe word. plus the hate part. non-affectionate degradation and name-calling, unethical dom/sub vibes, choking, hair pulling, pussy slapping, spanking, overstimulation. rocket is mean. there’s a version of this with a darker ending but this one is… i don’t know. probably as happy/fluffy an ending as it possibly can be? there's implied aftercare? ADDITIONAL WARNINGS for references to childhood (nonsexual) abuse & grooming of reader, emotional abuse, gaslighting, vague references to suicidal ideations and planning, thoughts of death. no CSA.
based on day 31 (and 21, 23, 26, and 29) of @flightlessangelwings’ Kinktober 2023 Prompt List banner created by @the-purity-pen ♡♡♡
Something is terribly wrong.
It has been for years, if you’re being honest. You can’t even remember the way food tastes without the sick slickness of dread filling your mouth.
The fact that this new planet reminds you of home makes your ribs tighten around your heart, a calcium jawtrap for your lungs. The teeth punch through, and you’re drowning in your own blood. The planet is so close — but it’s not quite right, which just makes it all the more uncanny. Herbert had told you the sky would be as blue and clear as Terra’s, and the buildings all look like older versions of the ones you had left behind. But it’s been storming since you arrived: boiling clouds the color of bruises, and electric strikes like grasping, broken fingers. The air smells all wrong — like bad days near the pig-slaughtering factory you'd lived down the street from as a child. All day, your hands have been frigid, fingers shivering. Someone is watching me, you think. Countless times, you’d thought you’d felt a breath on your neck and whirled around, only to realize that once again, you’re completely alone.
You haven’t seen anyone, anywhere.
Anyone except for Vim and Theel, that is. They stalk soundlessly beside you, cold and cloying, guiding you through the icy Pyramid that will be your new home. You try not to take your discomfort out on them, but they’re making it worse: staring soullessly with their dead eyes, watching you like you’re an insect to take apart, leg by leg. A set of butterfly wings, to be descaled.
Then they titter and flatter you, and the sick feeling in your stomach rises.
The storm continues to infect the sky like black rot, and Vim and Theel bow and scrape in a way that makes you feel like an idiot, like you’re an innocent walking willingly to a sacrificial altar, lured by promises of flowers or a few friendly words.
But you’re not walking willingly anymore, are you? You just don’t have anywhere else to go. Herbert has made sure of that.
read more on ao3 ♡ hate sex | dirty talk, begging, cnc | choking | creampie read Day 24: Giftwrap ♡ lingerie read Day 20: Tech ♡ sex toys read Days 18 and 19: Good Dreams ♡ dacryphilia & somnophilia read Day 17: Triptych ♡ praise read Day 15: Sunshine ♡ against a wall read Day 14: Soft ♡ nipple/tit play read Day 13: Proof ♡ recording read Day 12: Heavy Artillery ♡ gunplay read Day 11: Nod for Yes ♡ blindfold read Day 9: Practice ♡ hunter/prey read Day 8: Turbulence ♡ cockwarming
@evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @pretty-chips ♡ @suicidalshitstick
#rfh fanfic#rfh kinktober#rocket raccoon x you#in kinktober we say fuck everything#including plot#fawktober2023#rocket raccoon x reader#gotg fanfiction#this fuckin raccoon#rocket raccoon#rocket raccoon fanfiction#rocket raccoon x oc#rocket x oc#rocket x you#rocket x reader
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