#volo with his long hair down >>>>>>>

[leggerefiore]

cw: 18+ content, afab reader, breeding kink, talk of pregnancy, Volo being himself

pairing: Volo/Reader

Minors DNI

You groaned as you were pushed against the sheets of the futon. Pleasure coursed through your veins like a liquid electricity. Everything felt like far too distant from you while also being all-consuming. Your thighs were wrapped around the waist of the merchant as he drilled into you. His expression was intense – Grey eyes entirely focused on you as his long hair hung down almost like a veil. His bun had come undone somewhere in the mess.

Why had he come here? You had not expected to see him ever again after the situation on Mount Coronet. In fact, you had been quite sure that he despised you, yet here he was fucking you senseless. A cry left your throat, but his hand came to silence you – Not wanting anyone to hear and come investigate. You weakly tried to pull away his hand, but his strength was something else. Your walls clamped down on him as his dick hit your cervix. He grinned down at you maliciously. The pounding of your heart in your chest was maddening. He brought his other hand to rest on your lower abdomen – right above a certain organ. You swallowed.

“… You have taken everything from me,” his voice was low and ominous – a hint of strain was present. “You wanted to make up, right? You begged me not to go. Well, I have a way you can make it up to me, chosen one.” The pleasure mixed strangely with the apprehensive terror in your veins. “I don't want the blood of the ancient people of Sinnoh to end.” His thrusts felt so meaningful now, and his hand massaged your womb. You swallowed dryly despite the drool escaping out the corner of your mouth. “You'll help me, right? Didn't you want to help me?” Every rut of his hip into you made drew more and more pleasure out of you. Your hands grasped onto his arm. His hand was still over your mouth.

A chuckle left him as you tightened around him even more at these words. Part of you wanted to deny his claims, but… But you could not deny what you felt for the blond. Despite everything… Despite the manipulation and even attack on your life – You loved Volo. You wanted Volo. Having a family with him… You managed finally to get his hand off your mouth.

“P-please, Volo!” you begged. His eyes narrowed. Apparently, he wanted to hear more than a simple plea. His thrusts slowed, and you shook your head. You were so close. “G-give me a baby,” the words felt strange leaving your lips – you really should just hate him. “I-I'll help continue your bloodline!” Suddenly, his hips slammed against your own harshly. His hand took your wrists and pinned them above your head as he fucked into you harshly. The hand previously massaging you came to rub your clit with some expert knowledge – driving you further to the edge. A tight coil spun into something painful before finally snapping. You came with a loud cry.

Yet, Volo's cruelty apparently knew no bounds as he kept his harsh pace to fuck you through your orgasm. Writhing under him, your toes curled painfully. He watched your reactions with a malicious intent, clearly enjoying overstimulating you. Your cries and moans were nothing but a precious song to him. Yet, he was still a human. Volo found himself hitting you with one final thrust before cumming deep inside of you, cock head pressed flush to your womb. The warmth inside of you made your body shake.

He laid atop you for a moment. Both of you a pile of limbs and panting breaths. Your freed arms came to wrap around his neck, holding him tightly. Despite everything – You really loved him. Genuinely. It was painful. Whenever he finally regained himself, you half expected him to raise up and leave you to never show his face again.

Yet, that was not what followed. With him still buried inside you, you felt his cock begin to harden again. Grey eyes stared down at you intensely.

“… We have to make certain, no?” His hands came to hold your hips. You swallowed. It seemed your night would be long and exhausting.

Volo had no intention of leaving you.

[bloodlust-1]

୨⎯ May I Have This Dance? ⎯୧

Astarion x fem Tav — Fluff

Summary: A celebration! A royal party is thrown for the hero’s of Baldurs Gate, and everyone is dressed for perfection. Astarion eyes Tav as she is offered many dances, waiting to get his turn.

Note: I had this thought of Astarion eyeing Tav down at a ballroom setting, jealous of the guys asking for a dance. And well, here’s this straight from my noggin’

The latest 18+ fic (Halsin)

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

In the grand ballroom, adorned with opulent chandeliers and intricately designed carvings on the ceiling, a lavish gathering was taking place for a special group. The room was filled with an air of excitement and anticipation as guests dressed in extravagant attire mingle and socialize. The men tailored in beautifully made jackets of all kinds of styles. The women wore elegant gowns that cascaded to the floor, embellished with sequins, lace, and intricate embroidery.

As the music begins to play, all eyes are drawn to one particular girl, Tav. She was definitely nervous for this event. Not because of how many people were there, but how fancy the event was. Tav was a noble before the tadpole situation, her bloodline magic descended from dragons long ago. Tav was familiar with a setting like this, but she did feel a glint of shyness because no one in her group had seen her this way. This felt a bit vulnerable for her especially in front of Astarion who was also familiar with ballroom adequate. She didn’t want to get judge for not knowing her waltz properly for sure. However, Tav exuded an aura of grace and confidence as her dress moves gracefully across the polished marble floor. Her gown was masterpiece of fashion, it huged her figure perfectly, accentuating her every curve. The dress was adorned with shimmering crystals that caught the light and created a mesmerizing sight in the eyes of the guests.

Her hair was meticulously styled into an elaborate updo, adorned with delicate jewels that glimmered in the soft glow of the ballroom lights. Of course, Tav had a great taste for style and knew what exactly fit her body. Her makeup was flawless, it enhanced her natural beauty and highlighting her striking features. Particularly her mismatched eyes, thanks to Volo.

“You look beautiful as ever, Tav.” A hand reached out to Tav, It was Gale.

Her smiled emulated warmth and she took his hand, “And as for you, good wizard.” She joked while doing a small curtsy.

“I knew you were a noble, but this is a side I’ve never seen of you before. It’s interesting to think about when I’m so used to seeing you snugged in a bedroll on the dirt floor. But of course, this is also a great view as well...” Gale cleared his throat for that last sentence, his face had gone red for a moment. He then smiled and led Tav onto the dance floor.

Tav nodded and followed Gale. But she looked around for familiar faces. She had caught glimpse of Wyll, shadowheart, and even Karlach that for surely was not wearing a dress. It was a beautifully tailored feminine jacket, and she looked fantastic. It was definitely more her style. Though, she was hoping to see someone else, Astarion. They had an intense romance while traveling together, and she was disappointed to have not spotted him out in the crowd. He was the only one who could really stir up her heart, with the history they made together. Astarion promised Tav he would be at the event, it was a matter of time of when he would pop up.

“My lady.” Gale kindly placed his hand on Tav’s waist as she placed hers on his shoulder. Hand in hand Gale began to waltz Tav on the polished floor. They danced and Gale was captivated by Tav’s beauty and grace. He thought she was like an actual princess even. He was steady and lead her around the dance floor. Tav even caught glimpses of Wyll who was smirking at the sight of the two dancing. It made her a little shy.

Across the room stood Astarion. He came fashionably late with his laced red top, it was very fitting for the dress code. He instantly smelled Tav’s sweet blood in the air. It led him to her with the sight of Gale. They danced swiftly, but Astarion instantly thought he could do better. He was too sloppy with his feet.

Astarion crossed his arms and leaned his back against a pillar. He watched Tav enjoy herself in the crowd. She was gracefully passed from partner to partner of many men Astarion was familiar with. Ones that he saw staring at her with loving eyes during camp. He knew that state all too well. But he also enjoyed seeing Tav so fluid. Engaging and captivating the crowd with her confidence and beauty. Astarion was equally mesmerized by her presence.

The atmosphere in the ballroom was electric and lively, filled with whispers of admiration and awe. The guests cannot help but be drawn to this captivating woman who stolen the spotlight. They are captivated by her elegance, poise, and undeniable charm. Tav effortlessly commanding the room's focus. Her presence was magnetic, and she effortlessly captivated the hearts and minds of all who have the privilege of witnessing her grace.

Astarion felt a mix of emotions— admiration, desire, possessiveness, and jealousy. He is unable to tear his eyes away from her as she twirled and spun with other men. Specifically Gale, who was a little more touchy than normal. He looked like a puppy following her around, tail wagging between his legs.

Tav took a break between the music and excused herself from Gale. She smiled and walked off from the dance floor. Astarion’s gazed followed her as she walked into a vacant part of the palace. He followed her moments later.

Tav’s heels clicked against the marble floor, it stretched out before her in its great emptiness. The room was lined with many mirrors of tall stature. She took small steps, heels clicking as her reflection stares back at her. Each mirror capturing every different angle of her, showing all sides of her beauty. Tav almost couldn’t recognize herself. Not after getting used to seeing bruises, blood, and war gear. This was a much more wealthy side of her. She wasn’t sure if it even represented herself anymore. She got used to living a simple life traveling.

She stared into the reflection of herself before hearing a voice, “You look absolutely beautiful, darling.”

Tav was startled at the compliment and saw no other reflection behind her, she immediately turned her head and saw Astarion in his best suit. She felt her cheeks go warm, “Astarion, You made it!”

He smiled gently, “of course, we are the guests of honor after all, hm.” He started to walk closer to Tav. The mirrors were empty with his existence. But she knew she wasn’t dreaming, this was real. Astarion was very much real and alive even if the mirror couldn’t show him how handsome he looked.

Astarion reached out for Tav’s hand, her skin was met with a warm kiss, “I admire your dancing skills, you could be holding a candle while dancing and it wouldn’t go out. I’m impressed with you. However…”Astarion held her hand and placed it over his shoulder, “I couldn’t say the same for your dance partner. Perhaps I can show you a real dance?”

Tav’s cheeks flushed, she nodded her head in a moment of shock. Sometimes she just didn’t know how to react to Astarion’s advancements. He was so charming. She looked into his ruby eyes, “A pleasure…” a soft whisper left her lips. Her heart was racing and she felt her legs go shaky. Why was dancing with him such a hard task, she just did it moments ago!

What Tav didn’t know is that Astarion felt the nervousness off her body. The little quivers from her hands and shoulders tense. He tried to ease her with a gentle squeeze from his hand around her waist, “Relax, love. I want you to enjoy this.”

She took a deep breath in and they took their first step together. What was a brief moment of tension melted away. Their bodies were perfectly aligned, as they gracefully swifted across the empty room. It amplified their foot steps and the mirrors showcased a movie of Tav’s reflection dancing as if no one was there. It was so magical. The attraction between them illuminated the atmosphere. The tension was so thick between the two. The pair became a timeless motion of synchronized passion.

Astarion’s gaze never left Tav’s face and it was nothing short of love and admiration. Every step they took was a showcase of passion in one beautiful dance. Tav let herself go in the moment and let out giggles and smiles as they waltz. Astarion brought Tav closer against his body and the show came to a sudden halt. Both their chests rose up and down from heavy breathing against each other’s bodies.

Astarion placed his hand under Tav’s chin, bringing her face up to his gaze. She clutched his shirt as he leaned in and placed a heated kiss on her lips. Tav has never seen Astarion’s face so red. And this wasn’t blood, it was his cheeks lit up like a fire.

“I’ve never seen someone so beautiful. And to see you at every angle..” Astarion looked at the mirrors around the ballroom floor. Each mirror represented a different side of Tav’s features. Her skin was unblemished aside from small scars, her lips like rose petals, but most of all those eyes. He couldn’t get enough of them. How filled of life they were. They shined like stars. Astarion was absolutely star stuck by her presence more than ever.

Tav’s heart melted under his grasp. But there was something also lingering in her head. Tav was still unsure where her and Astarion stood with each other. The thought of maybe just a fling hurt her heart. She knew her heart was trying to tell her more. The way her chest tightens with him, the heat of her cheeks flushing up, but the most of all…how the thought of him kept her up long nights. How unfair it was to not have him alongside her bed. It did hurt.

“I need to know…” Tav cleared her throat but it still cracked anyway. “If we are just to find each other in times of loneliness o-or, are we something that could blossom into something more meaningful?” Tav passionately stared at Astarion. She went completely shakey, yet there was a tone of authority in her voice. She knew she wanted more with Astarion, but he was too unpredictable. She feared she was just company when he wanted affection.

Astarion gave her sad eyes, his expression instantly went somber. There was a long pause. A once lively ballroom moment turned into an intense one. “Tav…”

She started to pull away from him. This wasn’t the way she expected him to respond. In a way she hoped for more. Maybe it was her own expectations of him that’ll be the cause of her heart break. “Every night I laid in my bed, thinking of how I would finally tell you how I truly feel. B-but I can’t feel like this a-anymo—“

Astarion cut her off and grabbed her body into his in an embrace. He held her tight. He did not say anything nor did he lose his grip. Just a long gap of hugging her body, smelling her scent. As he finally pulled away he saw streams of tears flow down her cheeks. How long has she been hiding her feelings for him? He couldn’t tell for sure, but it was driving him crazy that she didn’t tell him this earlier.

he swiped his knuckles against the tears to dry her cheeks, “please don’t cry. Tell me how you feel then. I need to know the truth.”

She bit her inner lip. Her nerves started to take over again. Her eyes started to feel hot, Tav was never a public cryer by any means. She almost felt embarrassed for Astarion to see her like this, “I’ve loved you for a long time now..I thought maybe you only saw me to pass time. I thought maybe it was just your trauma instincts kicking in, to charm me. In a way, I was delusional enough to hope so badly that your affection wasn’t that. But in reality..” she took a deep breath before shutting her eyes tightly, tears flowed down harder. She sobbed quietly, “…B-Be someone who was special to you. It hurts too much. Not seeing you for long periods of time. I thought I could be special to you. I just don’t know. B-but— I beg you please just be honest with me so I can heal.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you often after everything ended. I didnt want to overstep my welcome…I did not know how much that would hurt you. I had suspicion that maybe you saw me differently after Cazador’s death. The way you found out how I’d lure victims to him. I never meant to be the reason you’re tossing and turning at night. I’m truly, utterly sorry…” he reached out to clasp her hands in his own, “But if there was one thing I was certain about, it was that you were going to be mine. I haven’t felt differently since.”

Astarion clutched her hands tighter, “You don’t even know how much I love you. You’re the first person I truly cared for in over 200 years.”

It was an instant relief. The mental load was excruciatingly heavy on her heart. Finally could she enjoy her moment with Astarion that didn’t have the uncertainty of their relationship poking her head.

“You know, I could prove it to you how serious I am.” Astarion cupped her cheeks and swipe away any tears. “Let’s get you cleaned up, I want to show everyone something.”

He cleaned up her wet face and grabbed her hand. Astarion led her back into the party. The music was still playing but everyone seemingly turned their heads back on Tav, who was the star of the party. People of all races saw the vampire and hero hand-in-hand. The rumors of Tav’s romanced did circle around the city, but those were just rumors?! Right? The community had no real evidence of their rumored romance until now. Small gasps, whipsers, and even wide eyed stares pierced the couple.

Astarion walked to the center of the room, making sure to grab a glass of wine on a servers tray. The room fell silent, as all eyes were fixed on him as he lifted his cup. He still held Tav’s hand in the other, “Our city stands tall, it embodies strength as we continue to defeat any threat that comes to us, Buldarians! We were prayed on, stripped of our hope. But still, we persevered. We couldn’t have done it without each other, my friends…and, of course our heads held up high with Tav’s bravery.” He held her hand up high and the crowd began to cheer and clap. She was hero after all.

“She is all of our hero’s. I am lucky to call her my lover. My reason why I can stand here and give this speech to you all. Tonight, we dance, drink, and celebrate our freedom! As I will enjoy mine…Cheers!”Everyone cheered, and clank their wine glasses with each other. Both Tav and Astarion could see familiar faces. Wyll cheered, Shadowheart smirked and clapped her hands, Gale looked bittersweet, and Karlach yelled and pointed her finger, “I KNEW IT! Ahaha!”

Astarion kissed Tav’s forehead. So this is what he meant by proving it. He wanted everyone to know what she meant to him. An equal and a lover.

“Everyone saw how special you are to me…and tonight..” he glared red eyes at her, “they’ll hear how special you are to me.” He smirked and laughed devilishly.

“But for now— May I have this dance, my sweet?”

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Unpunishable

Astarion x F! Tav

(Girl Talk part 4, can be read alone)

18+ love triangle dynamics, possessiveness, blood drinking, tav being a menace, dom/brat, angry sex, power play, fingering (f!), mild restraint, spanking, spitting, p-in-v, prostate orgasm, some silly fun at the end

After Karlach spent the night with Tav, Astarion is feeling very normal about it. So normal that he needs her in his tent all night. Just to feed, he swears...

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

-

"You can feed from me tonight, if you'd like."

Her words were sweet, alluring. He knew he should express gratefully, but he was tight. Breathing through his nose.

"I'll see you tonight, then." He intoned in his best pantomime of casual.

Pretending he didn't see her emerge from Karlach's tent this morning. That he didn't go back to his tent to scream into his pillow.

Oh gods, no, no. Why had he waited?

Well, he knew. Fate had aligned against him, like it always does. He had planned to tell her, he truly had. But then she had nearly drowned. By his own idiotic actions, to boot.

Some god truly had a vendetta against him, he just wasn't sure which.

He tried to reassure himself, watching her mill around camp, it didn't appear they were together. Yet, anyway. They exchanged sly glances but beyond that their chatter was relatively the same.

Maybe he still had a chance.

Oh who was he kidding, it's Karlach. He's done for.

No. No, he couldn't give up.

Tonight, he had her for tonight.

Watched as her long legs kicked out in front of her as she sat down, leaning conspiratorial to whisper something in Shadowheart's ear. Saw the cleric's cheeks go red.

Feeling his eyes she glanced up, smiling cat-like at him. Pulling her hair over her shoulder. Tipping her head back slightly, beckoning him.

Gods below, he was in over his head.

Her face smeared with a smile, arms coming up. Arcane power pulsing wicked through her. "Umbra!"

Their enemies were swallowed in darkness. A flash of red hair as she dove in. The sounds of thrashing death from the darkness.

He pulled his focus back to the light, firing down on those on the outskirts. Pointedly ignoring the sounds of her viciously tearing into bodies.

He had asked before why she could still see in her spell.

"Ironic, isn't it?" She had laughed, pointing to her demonic eyes. "The blind leading the blind, truly. Well, previously blind. It's the Devil's Sight." Leaning on her hip, flourishing with her fingers. "What can I say, I'm thorough. I intended to never be without sight again, and I meant it."

He knew it went deeper than that, if her reaction to Volo's "help" was any indication.

When he had pulled a needle from his pack she grabbed his wrist tightly. Her normally charismatic eyes tight with icy rage. Sitting up.

"You are not putting that in my eye." Her voice a hiss, grip tightening.

Volo had flinched, endless apologetic words flowing from his mouth.

She had reminded him of their other Drow, Minthara, in that moment. Could see the same cold controlled anger in her. He understood why they were close. Both Drow nobility. Both raised with the same frigid hand.

The more he got to know about her, the deeper the rabbit hole went.

Now, their enemies were felled and he let out a relieved sigh. They had gotten into a powerful rhythm of combat, all knowing their role and executing it well. But that didn't guarantee victory.

She emerged from the dark, absolutely soaked in blood. Shaking the excess off of her blade with a flick of her wrist. Her usually neatly pinned hair falling out of its plaits. Chest huffing with exertion.

Gods below spare him.

"Call off?" She shouted, eyes scanning.

Since she fought almost entirely in darkness, she usually didn't know how the others had fared. So they worked out a system.

"Aye!" Karlach called cheerfully.

"Aye!" Minthara growled, pulling her greataxe out of a body with a grunt.

"Aye!" He called, more breathily than he meant to.

She smiled at him. "Excellent. Good job, all. Though I had no doubts."

"Minthara, check for injuries. Karlach, take account of the dead, throw any scrolls to me. Astarion, help me with this locked chest."

He let out a great sigh, pretending to be put upon.

She leaned into his play, looking at him with great pleading eyes. "Astarion, pleaaase~"

He could never tell her how shockingly effective that was on him.

"Alright, you child. Step aside." She laughed, stepping away with a flourish of her hand.

He crouched down, taking out his tools with sure hands. Beginning his ministrations.

"You know," He jumped at her voice in his ear, her warm body crouched behind his. "You make this look so easy, surely it must be harder?"

He resisted the shiver that sat at the bottom of his spine. Her velvet voice directly in his ear.

Of course she was still drenched in blood. She knew what she was doing, the she-devil.

"I assure you, it's difficult for most." He huffed, focusing back on his work.

"Hmm, do you think I could do it if I practiced?" She murmured, he could hear the smile in her voice. "I've been known to have very nimble fingers."

He nearly dropped his tools. Memories of their first night assaulting his mind. Regained composure.

"I'm sure you'd make a fine locksmith, darling. Now if you don't mind." His voice was snippy, irritation thinly veiling his arousal.

Always teasing him. Gods he wanted to push her against a wall.

Shook his head slightly. No. Less of those thoughts. Focus.

"Oh, you're no fun today." She giggled, rising to feet. He immediately felt the absence of her body.

"Prickly, I'll have to watch that I don't nick myself." At the word nick, she waved her wrist past his face as she passed. Rejoining their companions with a look at him over her shoulder.

Oh he was going to take her apart tonight.

He paced in his tent. So many emotions crashing around inside him. Longing, fear, anger, desire. And the one that surprised him the most; possession. That had been at the forefront of his mind shockingly often.

He wanted her. Badly. And he wanted her to himself.

He had a great fondness in his heart for Karlach but if it came down to it, he wanted it to be him.

Rest assured, he wouldn't go down without a fight, and he didn't fight fairly.

The flap of his tent lifted slightly, her white eyes asking for entry.

"There you are." He purred as she stepped inside.

She tied down the fabric. The universal sign of do not disturb.

Oh?

His dead heart raced a little.

"Well, are we planning for more than a feeding tonight?" He stepped closer, smirking.

She pulled the pins in her hair, kicking off her boots. Shaking her head, her red hair fell and bounced down to the base of her spine. Her eyes cutting up to his.

Hells below it wasn't fair.

"If you play your cards right. Now help me with my armor."

He stepped forward and she turned her back to him. Pulling her hair away for him.. His quick fingers went to work on the buckle on her shoulder.

The smell of her well-oiled leather breastplate, the blood still caught in its creases. The oils in her hair, something sweet. Appleblossom.

"...Are you smelling me?"

He sputtered, heat rushing to his neck. "Certainly not. Gods."

He saw contained laughter in her shoulders as he lifted her breastplate off. She sighed in relief, stretching.

"I don't mind." She turned her head slightly, winking at him. "I'm sure your keen senses tell you a lot. Don't they?"

She stepped back into him, sliding her head into the side of his face.

He leaned in then, giving in completely. Eyes closing, breathing in like she was the most enthralling perfume. If he could bottle it, he would wear it on his wrist.

His hands came up to pull at her hair, nuzzling down into the curve of her neck. A small moan in his throat. Exquisite.

She kicked off the last of her armor, now in her damp underclothes, still sweaty from their fight earlier that day. Her musk coming to swirl into the heady bouquet.

"How do you want me?" She asked, sighing and leaning her head back.

That question send a quick shock of pleasure into his already hard cock.

"Down. Down with me." He pushed on the back of her knees with his own.

She kneeled down with him, straddling around her back. Pressing his erection hard into her lower back. Making his intentions clear.

This was the first time he had taken charge between them and it sent a delicious thrill up his spine.

He bit down into her with a groan. Pulling her into his throat in pulses. Her taste sending his eyes into the back of his head. He would never get used to it.

Her little sighing whimper stroking down his cock.

He latched on harder with a growl, his frustration brought to the surface again. How many times did he have to bite her to make it clear that she was his to the others?

His.

That she felt the need to seek out other bodies. Oh he would make her certain that she needn't do that tonight.

He pulled off with great effort, laving his tongue obscenely up her neck. They had more pressing matters to attend to.

"So I couldn't help but notice," He started, fingers trailing up her arm. "That you spent the night with our sweet Karlach."

"I did." She agreed, pushing her ass back into him cheekily. Subtly moving her hips up and down. "Do you have any feelings about that you'd like to share?"

He expected her to deny it, to get flustered. He should know better by now.

Gods below, he wished he could warn that idiot on the beach that he was about to walk into the vipers' den.

"Feelings?" He intoned, playing up for time.

"Mhm," She hummed, reaching up and playing with his ear. Her skilled hands pulling, the sensitive skin betraying him. He stifled a moan.

"Would you have liked to join?" She smiled, giving a little tug.

The band of frustration snapped inside him. Catching her wrist into his hand.

She gasped and he could smell a new wave of arousal rising from her.

"No. I did not." He growled.

"As a matter of fact," He hissed, pulling her hair in his fist. Her neck bending open to him. "I was not pleased to see that at all."

She moaned, arching her back. "No?" Her voice coming out hot. "Not into sharing?"

He reached around her front. Pulling her chest wrappings off in a harsh flick of his wrist. Falling away into her lap.

"Not even a little, darling." He warned, directly into her ear.

Fingers twisting her peak. "I intend to make you mine."

She shivered, much to his delight.

"Prove it." She hissed, turning her head just enough to look in his eyes. That devilish smile on the edge of her lips.

He shoved the space between her shoulder blades, pushing her face down into his pillow. Hiking her hips up.

She groaned, then laughed. Laughed.

He growled, pulling her underclothes down roughly. His hand snapping hard down on her ass.

She mewled, burying her face in his pillow.

Oh now we're getting somewhere.

He struck the reddening skin again, the crack of his hand hanging in the air. Seeing the wetness start to drip down her cunt.

"You evil little thing." He chided. "Are you going to be good?"

She hooked her legs around his knees, pulling him off balance for fun.

"Hmm, I'll consider it." She mused.

He reached around her front, fingers circling against her clit, other hand pushing two fingers inside her. Fast and angry. She moaned, pushing her hips into him.

"You'll consider it..." He repeated, goading in his voice.

He thought about how she had him in the same position not long ago. Felt a thrill of fresh arousal fire down his cock.

He blurred his hands against her clit, curling his fingers and slamming inside her.

She arched her back up like a cat, her hands held out to balance her curling. Little choppy breaths.

"Astarion," She moaned, nearly whimpering.

Oh that was doing it for him. Pre-cum pooling in his leathers.

"Say my name again, or I stop."

She hit her fist against the ground in frustration, not wanting to give in. He smiled wide. Oh, he could get her to play his game by the rules.

His hands started to slow in warning.

"Astarion!" She whined, incredulous. That same tone when she asked for help earlier.

He started back up again dutifully. Her shooting daggers at him. Giving her a smug preening smile.

She was rocking back into him, sweet little urgent moans pushing out of her. He loved to hear her sing for him. Him and only him.

"Tell me you'll only make these sounds for me." He leaned forward into her ear.

"Is that what you want?" She panted, hand coming up to cup his head.

"Yes." He bit at her ear. Hands punishing.

"Swear it."

She panted, nearly there. The smell of her blood burning with heat.

"I swear. Now fuck me like you hate me."

He groaned, his cock throbbing against her backside. Suddenly remembering that she had never taken a man before. His arousal doubling.

He released his cock from its painful cage. Lining up to her with as much restraint as he could muster.

Planted a hand on her lower back. His cock steadying at her entrance.

"Hold on, darling."

She slammed back, sheathing herself on him to the hilt. He groaned, nearly buckling over.

Gods below, she was going to kill him.

"All out of venom?" She teased.

"Do I need to gag you?" He held her hips harshly, restraining her. Rolling into her at a punishingly slow pace.

"You can try." She moaned, gripping his length. Clenching down around him in pulses. The languid pace making her shake.

He gripped down on her hair again, fisting it at her scalp. Pulling her head back.

Saw her smile, eyes closing in pleasure. Hips meeting his in rhythm. Finally giving in to him.

But he wasn't done with her.

He leaned over her back. "Look at me."

She opened her eyes, those haunting white eyes. Filled with desire for him, pupils blown wide.

"Open your mouth."

She looked surprised but obliged dutifully. Those perfect plush lips falling open.

He spat into her mouth.

He saw her eyes hitch back, clenching down hard around him. Knew her orgasm was close behind.

He said her name sharply as he slammed into her, pulling her hair again. "You look at me while I fuck you through this."

She nodded, swallowing his spit. Face flushed.

Gods now he could barely keep his eyes open.

Her face cringed in what looked like pain. Eyebrows knitting together. Keeping her eyes open with what looked like great effort.

"Oh Gods," She whined, as the first contractions hit.

He focused on keeping pace but it was a futile effort. Her cunt taking him at the rapid pace of her undoing.

He felt his own face screw up in pleasure. Her eyes still locked on his.

Whimpering and begging moans pushing through her. Body shaking against him deeply.

"Please come, Astarion." She urged, her voice so sweet.

He could hold off no longer. Hearing his name said like that again the match striking to the powder keg.

His pelvis contracting in vicious pulses. His body remembering her pleasures had activated his prostate without touch. Those same hard tremors shooting through him. He spilled inside her in unbearable pulses. He bit down on his arm to not scream. Coming so hard he saw stars, and then coming more after that. Unable to maintain eye contact anymore, his rolling back into his head.

"Oh Gods. Fuck." He groaned into the muffle of his bloody arm. The pleasure finally winding down.

She squeezed his thigh reassuringly as she panted, head fallen into the pillow.

He pulled out of her slowly. Groaning at the obscene amount of his spend pouring down her backside.

Gods he didn't know he had that much.

He grabbed a cloth and wiped it away from her. Though he would love to stare at it for hours.

"Oh thank you," She purred tiredly, smiling at him. "What a gentleman."

She sat back on wobbly legs, reaching for her clothes.

He grabbed her wrist.

"What are you doing, darling?"

"Getting dressed." She said simply. Looking at him confused. "Don't worry you'll be free of me soon." She said easily.

Gods below how did she still think he didn't want her.

He pulled her into a searing kiss.

She squeaked in surprise.

"I Don't."

Bite.

"Want you."

Bite.

"To leave."

She moaned quietly into his mouth, wrapping her legs around his back.

"You're sure?" She asked, eyes soft. Melting him through.

"For the love of... yes!" He admonished, to her little smile. Biting her lip.

Blushing.

He never thought he would see the day.

"So you want to be my boooyfriend~"

"Oh Gods, I'm regretting this already."

"You liiiiike me~"

"Yes, you demon." He grabbed at her waist, biting at her playfully.

She squealed out a laugh. Trying to get away. "No biting! No biting!"

"A little late for that, don't you think?" He laughed. Digging his fingers into her sides to reignited laughter. Wiggling to get away.

"No! I'm ticklish!"

"Oh, you've made a grave mistake, admitting that." He leaned down and nipped at her sides.

He smiled evilly at her hands shoving his head, her mouth open wide in a gasping laugh.

He could get used to this.

~

(okay I think this is the last one of these, I hadn't planned to make this a series but the gods of smut took my hand. thank ya'll for all the feedback on this series!!!)

[carooosa]

Craving Temptation Part 2: Psychic Ecstacy

Part 1: First Bite

Word count: 2.7k Rating: Explicit Pairing: Astarion x AFAB!Tav/Reader Warnings: 18+, tadpole, masturbation AO3 link: Psychic Ecstacy

Summary: You can't sleep and instead spend the night thinking of the vampire who was wormed his way into your mind, in more ways than one. How will you react to Astarion's smooth voice and honeyed words as he talks you through your pleasure?

A/N: If you've read the previous fic, this one is in Tav/Reader POV. If it seems like Astarion is OOC, good, because he's manipulating Tav.

You toss and turn in your bedroll, sleep refusing to bless you this night. Your mind is racing with questions and worry as you think back to all the failed leads so far. Nettie tried to poison you, the goblin “priestess” locked you in a cell, Ethel turned out to be a hag and made you blind in one eye, although you didn’t have to deal with that long since Volo accidentally removed it, and Halsin, while unable to heal you, has agreed to journey with you to Moonrise Towers for a cure.

Thinking about all of your adventures so far gives you a headache, but that pain is soon replaced by the wriggle of the tadpole behind your eye.

A sultry voice fills your head, pushing all of your previous thoughts away. “Unable to sleep, darling?”

Although you were unsure about using the tadpoles… powers, Astarion had quickly accepted the changes they brought. You shoot back a short reply, a simple “No.”

It feels as if he’s chuckling right next to your ear as he responds, “My, my Tav, I thought you didn’t want to use the tadpole’s power. What ever could have changed?”

You scoff out loud at that. “Nothing has changed, I still don’t want to use whatever this tadpole is giving me.”

“Well, I’m simply flattered, dear, that you’d make an exception just for me,” Astarion quips back, and you can vividly imagine the smug smirk that’s across his face.

You huff and roll over in your bedsheet again. Astarion always seemed to pick on you. After you turned down his proposition at the Tiefling party, you were sure that he would leave you alone, but that rejection only seemed to fuel his desire for you further.

It’s not that he wasn’t attractive, gods no, he certainly was. But with the threat of being turned into a mindflayer, as well as the never-ending side quests you seemed to be going on, you didn’t have the time or energy to even humor his advances. Although, you did have the time to at least imagine how a night with him would be.

You picture his face, the sharpness of his nose, and the way his hair is always a perfect mess. His eyes, a piercing crimson, always lingering on your body for a moment too long. His soft lips, an unassuming pretty pink that hid his sharp fangs.

You imagine how those fangs would feel in a kiss. Would they get in the way? Or would they add excitement to the moment? How would Astarion react if you bit him?

You think about how elegant he looks when lounging around camp, leisurely reading a book in the sunlight— just a hint of his chest peaking out beneath his shirt. His arms are muscular, usually hidden beneath his armor but put out on display when he rolls his lounge shirt up.

And his hands. Gods, his hands. You’ve seen him make quick work of a lock, his fingers nimbly maneuvering his lock-picking tools with ease. You imagine those hands on your body, feeling you up and down, the coolness of his touch would somehow heat you up. You picture his hands going lower.

“Having fun, darling?” Astarion’s voice rips through your thoughts.

Embarrassment washes over you as you realize that he was spying in on you obsessing over him. “It’s not what it looks like, I-” you start, only to be interrupted by the silky voice of the man you admire.

“There’s no need to be flustered, now, is there? To be honest, I thought there was something utterly messed up in that head of yours when you turned down my offer. But I’ve noticed the way you look at me. I see the longing in your eyes. Why not let me relieve some of your stress?”

“Astarion, we don’t have the luxury to fool around with each other. We have to get to Moonrise Towers as soon as possible,” you reply back to him, and you can feel a twinge of annoyance in your tadpole.

“Yes, yes, getting rid of the tadpole and all that. You’ve made it perfectly clear that no time is to be wasted.” He responds. You expect him to leave you alone at that, but instead, he offers a new proposition. “You’re certainly not going to sleep anytime soon, and I can feel your arousal from our connection. I won’t give you the best night of your life, against my better judgment, but who’s to say we can’t keep this connection while we both take care of ourselves, hm?”

You think for a moment. It might be beneficial to, as Astarion says, alleviate your stress. You have been wrangling a handful of companions who all have different ideas of the best path to take. It’s been over a tenday now and you’re exhausted, not just with them but from the constant creeping of anxiety in the back of your mind. Perhaps letting go would give you the refresher you need to keep pushing forward. And besides, you’ll just quickly and quietly masturbate, clean up, and then go right to bed. You wouldn’t lose any more sleep than you’ve been losing lately.

“Fine,” you say back to Astarion and you feel a hint of surprise before the overwhelming feeling of lust, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“So you can make smart decisions,” he quips. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable, pet.”

You feel like a disobedient child who’s stayed up past their bedtime to sneak some sweets as you prop up your pillow and undress your lower half. You reassure yourself that this is the most logical thing to do and that you’re doing it to clear your mind to be a better leader, nothing else.

“Tell yourself whatever you want, but we both know that you’ve been craving my touch and have finally succumbed to your yearnings. It’s understandable, really, that you would be distracted by my dastardly good looks and body. But what you don’t know is that I am well experienced when it comes to pleasing others. While I’ll settle with talking you through your pleasure, I’ll ensure that after tonight you’ll be begging for the full experience.”

You know that you'll reprimand yourself for this later. You've already agreed to do whatever this is that you're about to do, and you're never one to back down from a challenge.

"Don't make me regret this," you warn the vampire as you close your eyes.

His voice overwhelms your mind. "I wouldn't dream of it."

He pauses for a moment leaving you wondering if he's changed his mind, when suddenly you hear his silky voice yet again. "I've got to say, Tav, that I never expected you to have so many scandalous thoughts in that pretty little head of yours. It took me by surprise to see you imagining my face, my body, my hands. Perhaps I could give you a lesson on lockpicking sometime."

An image of Astarion expertly unlocking a chest flashes in your mind. With years of experience, he's able to use only one hand to undo the contraption. His fingers languidly run over each hook of his tool, pausing over the one he needs and rubbing it between two fingers. While he shows you this image, one of your hands travels down your body and to your entrance. You mimic the movement on your clit, finding the perfect spot to rub and pinch.

“Good Tav, keep touching yourself for me. Pretend your hand is mine, teasing your clit and working you up into a mess,” Astarion instructs.

You feel guilty for a moment, taking your own pleasure and not thinking of anyone else. Astarion must have somehow picked up on your dread as your attention is snapped away from your guilt. You feel the whisper of a cool hand against your face before it disappears, and Astarion reassures you.

“We’ll have none of that now, darling. You’ve every right to turn down my advances, but it’s simply cruel to deny yourself pleasure.”

You stop touching yourself and respond, “I’ve done nothing to warrant a ‘reward’ for myself. There’s still so much that’s yet to be done; this was a mista-”

Astarion abruptly cuts you off “Blasphemy. You’ve done nothing but help others this entire time I’ve known you. You’re the epitome of what a savior is, yet you refuse yourself the title. Even the gods above take their praises in pride.” He pauses for a second, letting the words sink in before continuing, “I suppose that just proves that the gods themselves are nothing compared to you.”

Your heart catches in your throat at the words he throws your way. You freeze, scared that if you even breathe you’ll ruin the moment.

“Besides, if nothing else it’ll make the playing field even again,” he quickly adds.

“What do you mean even again?” you ask, only to be met with silence. Although you don’t want to embrace the tadpole, you decide to push into Astarion’s head. You’re met with a flash of a scene: Astarion, mouth full of your blood with some dripping down his chin, frantically fucking his hand in the woods behind the camp. As quickly as the image appears in your mind it’s gone.

“You drive me mad, Tav. Bless me with the privilege of being your undoing. Allow me to be your ecstasy.”

You’re unsure how to respond to such a plea. Exploring your own wants and desires had always been pushed to the background, the responsibility to help others always taking precedence.

You decide to give Astarion one last chance to back out. “I’m not as experienced as you are with this sort of thing. I’ll be awkward.”

“Let me guide you, then,” he offers, and you finally decide to give into this want of yours.

“Tell me what I should do.”

You feel a rush of excitement through the mind-link you share. “Oh darling, there’s nothing I’d rather do. Now, let’s give you the most mind-shattering pleasure imaginable. Follow my instructions and let me know if there’s anything you don’t like. Open your mind up to me so I can see what you’re doing.”

You take some deep breaths and relax, strengthening the connection to his tadpole until your minds are completely connected, Astarion’s voice as loud as your own thoughts.

“Why don’t we spend some time worshipping those breasts of yours? I want you to massage them, try different speeds and different amounts of pressure, until you find a momentum that you like.”

You oblige, tentatively touching yourself and wondering what the point is of doing this.

“Tsk, tsk, you refuse yourself pleasure so much so that you think masturbation is just a means to an end. My darling, your body is simply divine. If I was ever given the chance I would make sure that no inch goes untouched, no part of you unloved. Gods, Tav, you captivate my mind every second of the day.”

Your face flushes red and a warmth spreads through your body. You’ve found a slow and gentle pace, but Astarion urges you to press further.

“Don’t be afraid, darling. Your body can withstand some roughening up. Hells, what I wouldn’t do to mark you up, leave bruises on your unblemished skin.”

“Your body is a temple yet explored, and I intend to be your guide. Rub and pinch your nipples for me, darling. Bite your lip and rub your thighs together. You like being bitten, don’t you, Tav? Don’t think your little whimpers and shakes went unnoticed by me. Fuck, Tav-” Astarion’s voice falters, instead replaced with some grunts.

You listen to Astarion’s instructions and squeeze your nipples tightly, yelping at the pain but then doing it again, quickly becoming addicted to the sensation. You think back to the night you awoke to find the vampire looming over you, his eyes filled with hunger, a hunger for you. You jolt at the thought and bite your lip, hard, relishing in the slight pain. 

All the while you experiment with your pleasure, Astarion has gone quiet. You search for him in your mind. You’re overwhelmed with the erratic thoughts going through his head, thoughts of you, your body, your voice, your scent; every single position Astarion would like to take you in.

“Astarion?” you gingerly ask.

As soon as you say his name, a feeling of bliss radiates from him.

“Hells below Tav, you’ll be my ruin.”

“What happened?” you ask.

“What happened? What happened?” Astarion repeats to you. “What happened, my dear succubus, is what I hope to bring unto you. I see you’ve been listening to my instructions as I can smell your arousal from my tent.”

You quickly notice the wetness that has begun to pool beneath you, your nipples fully hardened from your touch.

“You’re such an obedient little pet, aren’t you? Oh, how I would train you to become drenched at the sound of my voice if you’d let me. Let me guide your hands, Tav. Keep one hand on a breast and move the other to your clit.”

You oblige, his voice filling your mind and working you up. You gently place a finger on your clit and begin to rub, gasping out loud from the sensitivity.

“Don’t falter on me just yet. I have yet to explain how I would ravish you with my tongue, slicking you up before using my fingers to stretch you out. I’d leave you a writhing mess beneath me, begging for me to fill you with my cock.”

As you stimulate your clit, an image of Astarion looming over you with hair unkempt and eyes blown out from lust pushes into your mind. You rub faster, and right as you reach your peak, Astarion speaks.

“Cum for me.”

With the sound of his voice and the image in your mind, your body shakes as you cum. Your breathing steadies and you feel an overwhelming emptiness in your core.

“Already wanting more?”

You shake your head and try to come to your senses. “This was more than I’ve done and more than I expected to do tonight.”

Astarion starts to tease you, amused with this revelation. “More than you’ve done? Don’t tell me you’re a virgin, now.”

“No! I’ve had sex before, I just-” you start to correct him before he cuts you off.

“You’ve never orgasmed before, have you?” You don’t respond. “Oh, Tav. You sweet forbidden fruit. You have no idea just how much pleasure I could give you. The night’s young; let me show you what pure bliss really feels like.”

You’re almost tempted to agree before you remember that you’re on a mission to get rid of the tadpoles you’ve been using to talk to Astarion.

“Tsk, it’s a shame you won’t indulge in yourself. Nevertheless, I thoroughly enjoyed this. I would ask if you had fun, but I already know the answer.”

You decide to quickly shut this down before it continues further “Goodnight, Astarion.”

You feel a twinge of disappointment from him before it disappears. “Goodnight, Tav. Try not to dream of me too much.”

Before you’re able to sever the connection, Astarion shows you the mess he’s made of himself during your conversation. He sends the moment he came undone into your mind: you saying his name. You see him thrusting into his hand as streams of cum shoot out of his cock.

The connection ends, and you’re left alone with the silence of the night and your thoughts. You’re unable to get the image out of your head. Your hands start to wander over your body as you recall the instructions he gave you, this time imagining it’s Astarion touching your body. It looks like you won’t be getting much sleep tonight after all.

Part 3: Sanguine Relief

[galeorderbride]

Hiii!!

I discovered your account recently, and I'm a fan! This strengthens my love for Gale even more! I have a request, is it possible to use the following prompts :

3)Touching foreheads

7) Kissing scars

11)Sharing secrets

41)Washing each other hairs

52)Crying into their shoulder

60) sitting in their lap

i will probably ask for others prompt later ahah!

thanks you so much 🖤

Thank you for the request!! I’m stoked to know I’ve helped strengthen your love for everyone’s favourite rizzard lol. And send as many prompts as you like!

Your prompt awaits:

Rated: M (Gale and Tav sharing a bath, non descriptive nudity).

Gale x F!tav

Words: 1652

...

Wash my Troubles Away

Baths were always the way Tav chose to unwind after a stressful day. Before the nautiloid, and after, although she’d been seriously lacking in access. In all honesty, she was surprised it took this long for her to break down. Months on the road, toiling through endless swaths of blood, shit and tears with the onus on them to solve everyone’s problems. At first, Tav enjoyed helping, seeing new friends suffer a little bit less in such a difficult society. Once they reached Rivington, however, her patience ran drier than a dead fountain. 

Thankfully, they found the Elfsong, where a private bathroom awaited. As soon as the fee was paid, Tav thought about taking a bath—craved it. A space to calm her muscles and cry out her troubles without drawing attention. 

Hot water flowed against her naked back, bubbling with lavender oil and sudsy soap, emanating the scent of vanilla and oat. Tav tucked her legs to her chest, curling into a ball of frustration and embarrassment as she couldn’t stop crying. Tav needed more resilience than this. Facing the end of the world required stalwart bravery, and she was having a meltdown over finding gold for a bank manager. How in the hells was she supposed to take down a giant brain? 

Meanwhile, everyone else had no problem being selfish. A toy maker set explosives in his own products, totally willing to kill children to save his own skin. Idiots tying up Volo just because he was talking about the things they wanted to ignore. Ironhand gnomes masking abusive bigotry with a shining cause. Tav was tired of everyone’s bullshit, making excuses for themselves, taking zero responsibility when she had no other option but to face problems head on. 

Her self pity was interrupted by a knock at the bathroom door. The sound of a lilted, erudite voice coming through the wood: 

“Mind if I come in, love?” 

Gale appeared in the doorway after Tav agreed he could enter. Holding fresh towels and a wicker basket of different bath products, looking brand new as if he’d just returned from an apothecary. Tav splashed water in her face to mask the puffiness of her eyes, as if her detail oriented wizard would ever let a thing like that get past him. 

“You seem like you could use some company. And so far, I’ve been very skilled and…calming you down, so to speak. I fetched some products from Bonecloak’s, all your favourite scents. Jasmine, pomegranate, aloe vera. If you’d prefer to be alone, know you won’t offend me. I just wanted to give you these so you know someone is thinking about you,” he said. 

Tav turned her head, grinning as best she could, easier because of his presence. Since their romance had begun, he was the only one virtually incapable of annoying her. He always knew what to say, always understood the right words or actions to keep her grounded. No one had been such a positive force in her life, and every morning, no matter how terrible, she thanked the stars for finding that unstable portal. 

“I’m not enviable company at the moment, but yours, would surely heal my weary heart,” Tav replied. 

Gale smiled, “No matter how you’re feeling, there is no one in the realms I’d rather spend my time with.” 

Times like this were when Tav didn’t believe she deserved his sweetness. Doting on her out of an adoration she couldn’t figure out. He placed the bottles on a tiny stool beside the tub, undressing so he could join her in a warm, sudsy water, snapping his fingers with a little magic to heat it back to ideal temperature. He made use of the large, circular space as he sunk in behind her, enveloping her in a comforting embrace as she rested her back onto his chest. Little hairs tickled her skin, causing her to chuckle for the first time all day. 

Careful movements of his fingertips massaging her scalp sent shivers down Tav’s spine. Scents of pomegranate and jasmine soothed her sinuses, letting the hot water pour down her head, through strands of clean hair. Tension from her muscles seemed to dissolve with each considerate touch, Gale’s hands created to caress her skin. When he finished, he wrapped his arms around her, rocking her back and forth as they both watched the window ahead. A clear night gifted them glimmering stars, a cool breeze whistling out of a crack in the insulation. Tav leaned back, resting her head in the crux of Gale’s shoulder as she closed her eyes. A few, stray tears fell from her eyes, overwhelmed by the sudden comfort of her magical lover lifting her through the ache of evening. 

Gale didn’t press her for reasons, didn’t rush to solve the problem when he noticed her tears. He just held her, waited in solidarity until she was ready, happy to let her sink into his life force to refresh her own. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally said with a tearful chuckle, “You must think I’m ridiculous. Crying for no reason like this.” 

“Well, my love, your mind may be telling you that there is no reason, but that doesn’t mean it’s true. With all our travels, all the weight on your shoulders, you have every reason to cry. You’re more resilient than you think, I’d have crumbled long ago,” he said. 

Tav looked up at him, in utter admiration for his thoughtfulness, his beauty, everything. If she could, she’d sing his praises for a thousand years, to make up for all the times Mystra never did. Or anyone else who didn’t care to see the magnificence of him. 

Her fingers traced up his collarbone, around the mark the orb left that paved a path to his wonderful neck. A forced tattoo sunk into the surface of his skin, binding him to his well intentioned folly. Their foreheads touched as Gale lowered his head, wishing desperately that he could hold every

 part of her at the same time. Mage hands and mirror images weren’t enough, it had to be him. 

“Can I tell you something I’ve never told anyone before?” He asked, words hanging on between their breaths, lips hovering over each other but never quite meeting. 

“Hmm, you’ve already told me about Mystra. And that you haven't spoken to anyone in over a year until me. Oh, and that you get excited when you see me bloody after a fight. What else could there possibly be?” She asked, flirtatiously smiling at him with her eyelids batting just the way he liked. The smirk he made when he saw it was irresistible. 

Gale chuckled, “This one is far less serious, but might be what you need to hear in this moment.” 

They adjusted slightly, Gale sitting up as he pulled his arm out of the water. Just above his elbow was a superficial scar, raised tissue blending in with the rest of his skin. An uneven line travelling up his arm, about three inches long. Wherever he got it from, it had to be years ago. 

“People don’t notice this scar much anymore, not with the giant black circle on my chest. But people used to. I’d tell them it was from a kitchen knife,” he said, “But…really I accidentally set fire to my neighbour’s rose bushes when I was a child. I was trying to conjure, and the fire got away from me. Singed my arm in the process.” 

Tav turned, scooching further onto his lap as she examined his arm. She couldn’t help but laugh, “That’s your secret? Ruining a bush?” 

“Not just any bush. A rose bush. One of the most beautiful I’d ever seen. I’d pass by those roses every day, stare at them for a minute or two. Just to see something be so effortlessly perfect in its imperfection. They simply grew that way, and then I destroyed them. All I could do was cry, sob over how I tarnished something so innocent and pretty for my own sake. I don’t talk about it because…well, it’s silly, but it’s the worst thing I’ve ever felt. It’s stayed with me my entire life, and the burn scar only serves as a beacon for it,” he explained. 

“Even worse than what happened with Mystra?” She asked, grazing her fingertips across the uneven line of the scar. Eyes stuck to the mark as if it was the last thing she’d ever see. 

Gale hesitated, taking a heart wrenching pause. Tav noticed his eyes staring ahead, fixated on the window. A heavy, unsaid energy hung over him.  

“It was the catalyst. For everything. Had I not set fire to that bush, Elminster never would’ve found me. And then I’d never have attracted Mystra’s attention. A boring existence…but maybe a better one,” he said, voice trailing along the waves of his melancholic thoughts. 

Instead of responding, giving him a treatise on how he didn’t need to feel guilty anymore and burning a flower bush wasn’t a definer of his total character, she pressed her lips against the burn scar. Counting her kisses for every year of remorse he felt since setting that fire ball. Ever since their first night together, he slowly began to shed that overconfident veneer, more comfortable to show her the parts of him that hurt, the deep cuts that both of them wished they could bury. 

“Seems we both have a guilt problem,” Tav said. “Come here.” 

Tav moved to straddle his lap, taking the ceramic bowl and filling it with the warm, soapy water. Gale rested on her shoulder, as if on impulse, while she poured the liquid down the long strands of chestnut hair. Running her shampooed hands across his scalp, satisfied every time she heard his happy moans against the scratch of her nails. After rinsing, she kissed the top of his head. 

“Thank you for telling me a secret,” she said, “I’ll tell you one of mine tomorrow.”

[lucky-clover-gazette]

Arceus Forbid Women Do Anything

Chapter 1/3 | 2,254 words | Rated T

Commandment I: Gaslight

The challenger met the Champion’s intelligent gaze and quickly looked away. They knew what they needed to tell her, they knew that it was important, but in the awe of the moment they couldn’t help but ask— “So you’ve met Lord Volo?” She seemed unsurprised by the question. The challenger supposed that it must have been asked many times before. “I am his Champion, yes.”

Read the full chapter on AO3 or under the cut:

The challenger approached the Champion of Hisui atop Mount Coronet. The Spear Pillar Temple was strangely decrepit for a holy place, where it was said that the Lord of Hisui himself convened with his most beloved mortal creation.

The title of Champion was highly sought by the wielders of Hisui, who longed to impress their almighty deity. Some even spoke of immortality as a reward, to say nothing of the material gifts and fate’s favor. But for as long as the current Champion had held the position—which was to say, the entire recorded history of the region—she had never once been bested in battle.

But that, the challenger knew, would change today.

The Champion stood at the very edge of the temple ruins, staring out at the sky as if frozen in a perpetual state of deep thought. The challenger immediately recognized the colors and styling of her attire as those of the Lord in his most traditional depictions. Fine white silks were artfully draped around her form, and she was adorned from head to toe with emeralds and gold. Her hair flowed in the breeze, only slightly flattened by the ornate diadem on her head.

“Do you wish to challenge the Champion of Hisui?” she asked, causing the challenger to sharply inhale. The woman did not face them, and clearly did not plan to do so without a formal conversation.

“I wish to speak with the Champion of Hisui,” the challenger said, forcing their voice to steady. “There is something that she—you—ought to know.”

The Champion turned around at that, revealing the face of a woman who most certainly did not age naturally. In fact, she appeared to be not much older than the challenger—but of course, appearances could be deceiving.

“I will admit,” said the woman with a slight smile, “that is a new one.”

The challenger blinked. They had not expected such a casual composure from the Champion of Hisui—although, their expectations had admittedly been imprecise. There were plenty of rumors regarding the Champion’s personality throughout the region, and much speculation regarding her team of pokémon, but there had never once been a challenger who had returned with the memory of what they’d experienced. It was common knowledge that when it came to Spear Pillar, the only way to leave with a tale to tell would be to best this woman in battle. Otherwise challengers could expect to return bewildered, collected at the foot of the mountain by rangers patrolling the area.

“Very well,” said the Champion, gracefully rearranging her silks as she sat on the small stairway leading to her former perch. It seemed bizarre for her to lower herself in front of her challenger, until she motioned for them to the do the same.

“Evening the battlefield,” she explained with slight humor as they took their place beside her.

The challenger met the Champion’s intelligent gaze and quickly looked away. They knew what they needed to tell her, they knew that it was important, but in the awe of the moment they couldn’t help but ask—

“So you’ve met Lord Volo?”

She seemed unsurprised by the question. The challenger supposed that it must have been asked many times before.

“I am his Champion, yes.”

A chill ran down the challenger’s spine. His.

“Is he watching us now?”

She tilted her head slightly, and the challenger regretted the tactlessness of their words.

“This is the holiest place known to humankind and pokémon alike,” the Champion said. “I should hope that the Lord is watching.”

The challenger had been warned of this. They took a deep breath.

“I know the history of this world,” they said, “and I know that we are meant to believe it.”

“History?”

“That this world of peace was created from the ashes of another; an irredeemable and infernal world, which had fallen as a result of its own wickedness.”

The Champion nodded. “That is the truth.”

“But I don’t think it is,” said the challenger, nerves increasing with every word. “You have to listen to me, please. I have heard the voice of the old world’s creator, and it has told me the truth.”

“You… what?” The Champion appeared genuinely surprised by this. Distressed, even.

“The old creator was subjugated by the Lord,” the challenger explained frantically, needing to get the words out before said Lord lowered himself from the heavens to intervene. They would face Volo, of course, on behalf of this region’s true deity—but not before freeing the innocent Champion from her Lord’s deceptions.

“A single mortal—the Hero of Hisui, blessed by the original creator—once served as the protector of its divinity. The man you call Lord Volo weakened them, defeated them in battle, and ultimately seized the god’s power by force. He used it to erase that entire world and imprison the true creator’s physical manifestation, taking its place and wielding its abilities himself.”

The Champion did not appear convinced. “But what of the Hero? Was she erased?”

“According to my god,” said the challenger, “they fell.”

“How interesting.”

“But that doesn’t matter now,” the challenger insisted, reaching for the woman’s finely-adorned wrists. “What matters is that you get out of here. He’s going to come down and I’m going to fight him, and it’s going to be dangerous for anyone without godly powers behind them. You don’t deserve to get hurt, when all you’ve done is loyally serve a Lord who does not deserve your fealty. So please believe me, and abandon this temple while you still can.”

It only took one look at the Champion’s face to know that the challenger had failed. Her expression was now stern as she rose to her feet.

“I will not tolerate such blasphemy,” she said, reaching within her silks for a strange-looking pokéball. The challenger narrowed their eyes at the thing—was it wooden?

“I’m telling the truth,” the challenger said, removing their own pokéball from their belt. “Arceus told me in my dreams!”

Something shifted in the woman’s expression at the sound of the true deity’s name. “Arceus does not exist,” she said, releasing her opening pokémon: a samurott.

The challenger decided to engage in the battle, if only to continue the conversation and potentially delay Lord Volo’s arrival. They released their opening pokémon and watched, in horror, as the Champion’s samurott defeated it with a single move.

The challenger took another deep breath and released their next pokémon, whose perfect type match would almost certainly return the favor.

“And even if it were true,” the Champion said, “even if my Lord did not simply create this world from ashes, but set the fire himself… do you not believe that a peaceful world is worth creating?” She replaced her fainted samurott with a typhlosion as if it were an afterthought.

“Not if it took the erasure of an entire world, just because it wasn’t perfect!” the challenger argued, their second pokémon falling just like the last.

“The Lord appreciates the world as it is,” said the Champion, motioning to the decrepit temple surrounding them. “If he were determined to destroy every imperfection, would we still have ancient ruins?”

The challenger sent out their next pokémon. “I don’t care about ancient ruins.”

The Champion shook her head condescendingly as she collected her fainted typhlosion and released a decidueye. “Well, Lord Volo would certainly be displeased to hear that.”

“I’m not here to impress Lord Volo, I’m here to fight him!” Another one of the challenger’s pokémon, done. That was half of their team.

“I’m afraid you will have to defeat his Champion first.”

They took out her decidueye. In response, she sent out a pokémon that the challenger did not recognize—a small black figure made of thick lines, almost resembling the written character L.

“You might as well take that now,” said the Champion, as a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. How could she not see that the entire world was at stake here? If Lord Volo continued to spread his lies, if Arceus could not be returned to its former power, then—then, it would be bad!

“This isn’t a game,” the challenger spat, taking a turn to heal their nearly-fallen fourth pokémon. This was their fastest one by far, and the unfamiliar pokémon seemed to be the Champion’s weakest, so hopefully—

The challenger’s fourth pokémon fainted.

This was not part of the plan.

“Arceus told me to get you out of here,” the challenger told the Champion. “Those were its explicit instructions.”

“Ah,” said the Champion, “so you weren’t prepared for a fight with me. Just with my Lord.”

She watched him with amusement. She understood, then, that even if they managed to beat her team, they would be entering a battle with an actual deity with a single conscious pokémon.

“Unfair, isn’t it?” she taunted, and the challenger could not believe they’d mistaken her as kind.

Who was this woman, anyway? The Lord’s Champion from the dawn of this world’s existence, almost certainly immortal and incredibly skilled as a pokémon wielder…

Their mind still racing, the challenger only half-paid attention as they took out the Champion’s unknown pokémon. In its place, she sent out a togekiss.

A togekiss.

It made no sense. The challenger’s jaw dropped. “But only Lord Volo has—”

“I wield her on weekends,” the Champion said, as the world’s most sacred creature destroyed the challenger’s fifth pokémon.

There was something in her eyes now that the challenger hadn’t noticed before. It frightened them. Arceus had not warned them about this, it had only insisted that they get her out of way—

“Wait,” said the challenger, hesitating to send out their final pokémon. ���She.”

The Champion raised an eyebrow, resting a hand on her hip. “She?”

“When you referred to Arceus’s fallen Hero, you called them a ‘she.’”

The Champion crossed her arms over her chest, confusion turning to delight. “I did,” she confirmed with a patronizing smile.

The challenger froze.

“I did not appreciate it,” the Champion told them, “when you called me weak.”

The challenger narrowed their eyes. “So he did defeat you.”

She did not scowl, or even wince. She almost appeared proud. “Send out your final pokémon,” she told the challenger, “and I will show you defeat.”

Togekiss chirped happily and spun in the air. The challenger prayed to Arceus as they released their final fighter: the first pokémon they had ever wielded, entrusted to them more than a decade ago.

Togekiss defeated it with a flick of a wing.

The Champion tutted pityingly as she walked closer, recalling Togekiss and reaching for her final pokéball. “Now, don’t be too hard on yourself,” she said as a pokémon emerged at her feet.

The challenger narrowed their eyes, unsure what to make of the strange misshapen figure. “But you’ve already won the battle—”

The Champion sighed, beleaguered, as the challenger became transfixed by her spiritomb’s magic. “But seemingly, still not the war.” The challenger could barely hear her final words before losing focus completely:

“Send Arceus my regards. I look forward to meeting its next challenger.”

And then everything faded to white.

─────────────────

The Lord Volo’s realm was abundant in daylight. Unless, of course, he wished for it to be nighttime—then the only light came from the brilliance of the stars, arranged into elaborate images of his choosing.

He rested his cheek on his palm, smiling adoringly as his Champion approached his throne.

“Tough day at the office?” he teased, using the modern terminology she had taught him by the light of countless campfires.

She did not kneel, nor did he expect such behavior from his beloved Champion. Instead, she dropped herself right into his lap.

“We should really put a bench down there or something,” she said, playing with the hair of a god as if it were a child’s toy. “The steps are rather uncomfortable.”

“Very well,” Volo smirked, and then snapped. “Done.”

He did not actually need to snap, to create a bench atop Mount Coronet. But Volo had always been one for dramatics.

“Show-off,” said the Champion as she kissed Volo’s lips. The slight change of angle allowed him a cheeky squeeze of her clothed flesh, a brush of long fingers along her waist, and of course one mustn’t forget the chest—

“Don’t you want to know how it went?” the Champion asked, doing absolutely nothing to stop Volo’s exploration.

He smiled and hummed into the skin of her neck, feeling the coolness of her jewelry against his cheek. “Let me guess,” he said between kisses and nips, “you won the battle?”

“Always,” the Champion said, gripping Volo’s hair and pulling him closer. “Well, almost always.”

He recognized the slight self-deprecation in her voice and bit more harshly. Her noise of combined pain and pleasure was a hymn to his ears.

Volo pulled back slightly to meet his Champion’s eyes, brushing a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. “Well then, my fallen Hero…” He adjusted the pendant around her neck, the first gift of many from her Lord, so it rested exactly where he wished it to be. “Why don’t you show me how you live in defeat?”

She picked up his suggestive tone and returned it tenfold. “Anything for my Lord,” said the Champion of Hisui, reaching for a particular point of interest beneath Volo’s deific attire.

“You endure with such grace,” Volo praised, running a gentle hand through her hair. The Champion sighed softly and relaxed against her true Lord, far from the outsider Arceus had attempted to make her. 

And indeed, it was good.

[thecampjuicebox]

To have and to hold Pt. 3 (End)

Pairing: Tav(f) x Gale x Astarion

POV: 2nd person (Reader is Tav)

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Marriage (throuple), smut, fluff, fingering, oral (f receiving), potential game spoilers (mostly just character names)

This is the end of "To have and to hold" as a story, I really hope you all enjoy! It's going to be a long one so I can do this ending justice. Let me know if you want more stuff like this in the future!

Gale paces back and forth nervously, little beads of sweat pooling above his eyebrows. He guides his hands over the front of his pale blue robes, the smooth fabric flattening beneath his trembling fingers. Tonight's the night. And you're late. Astarion rests comfortably against the wall of the temple, fiddling with the end of his coat, soft silver hair jostling ever so slightly in the autumn breeze. He traces the silver filigree around the bottom seem and admires how it sparkles in the light of the full moon. The newly rebuilt Selune temple stands tall at the end of a long cobblestone bridge, the outer edges of the bridge decorated with grand displays of flowers, tall metal arches adorned with moonstone turning the bridge into an extravagant tunnel. It's truly breathtaking, and it still does nothing to calm the wizard's anxiety. Everyone is already waiting inside, bards at the ready. Gale continues to pace. Back and forth, back and forth, mumbling little "Where is SHE"s and "I'm going to kill her"s to himself, earning an amused chuckle from Astarion.

"Calm your nerves, Wizard. She'll be here soon enough."

"Gods, she'd be late to her own funeral."

Quick footsteps thunder towards the two men and Gale whips around at the noise. Karlach barrels towards them, waving her arms. to shoo them into the building.

"Both of you! Inside! Now! She's coming!"

Gale throws his arms up in frustration, grabbing Astarion by the elbow and they rush into the temple. Wyll and Halsin are already waiting at the altar, hands folded neatly in front of them. Gale peeks around the corner to assess the size of the crowd, air catching in his throat when he sees just how many people showed up for the ceremony. The late, and not at all shocking, news of the addition of Astarion to the ceremony didn't seem to dissuade any of the guests. He breathes a sigh of relief and motions to Volo to start the music, Volo excitedly swinging his arms about at the bards. Lutes, lyres, and flutes all play in a beautiful harmony, Alfira singing softly to welcome Gale down the isle first, Astarion following not far behind. They both take their places on each side of the altar, the white haired cleric of Selune, Isobel, exchanging kind smiles with each of them.

You stand outside, large bouquet in your hands, the soft green ivies and hanging bell flowers nestled amongst the Selune's Tears and Crocus flowers trickling towards the ground, contrasting against the pale blue silk of your dress. Your last second dress change was Shadowheart's idea and you couldn't thank her more. Silver filigree and moon symbols adorn the bodice of the dress, silver velvet cloak swaying behind you in the night time breeze. You shiver lightly, wiggling your fingers beneath the heavy foliage of your bouquet. Shadowheart asses you carefully, poking and prodding at the neat plaits of dark hair that encircle your head. You giggle and hold still for her. She carefully places a small moon hair pin in the back of the braids, fixing its position a few times before settling on a spot she agrees with. She smiles to herself, gently stroking your back for a moment before stepping away and mumbling a quiet "Perfect." Karlach takes a small handkerchief from her back pocket and wipes under her eyes, hot tears threatening to stain her cheeks. You poke out your bottom lip and fight back tears of your own, gently reaching up to stroke Karlach's cheek, soothing her.

"I'm just so happy for you, Soldier. You're really doing it. And you look so beautiful."

"Oh! I almost forgot!"

Your head cocks to the side at Shadowhearts sudden exclamation, watching as she pulls a thin silver necklace from a pouch beneath her skirts, unclasping it and bringing it around your neck. A small silver moon pendant with a teardrop cut moonstone dangle rests against your pale skin, sitting snuggly between your collar bones. You gently run your fingers over the cool metal and smile, closing your eyes to savor this moment. It's actually happening. You're about to marry the loves of your life. You truly couldn't be happier now. All of your fear falls to the wayside, doubt being swept away by the autumn wind.

"Onward."

Karlach huffs quietly and moves to the handle of the left door to the temple, Shadowheart following suit to the right. You nod at them both and they swing the doors open, stepping inside before you. You hear the music swell, Alfira singing sweet melodies as Shadowheart and Karlach walk arm in arm down the isle towards the altar. They both settle to the right of the cleric on Astarion's side. Halsin waves to them excitedly, quickly straightening back up when Volo's voice thunders through the temple.

"Esteemed guests, I now present to you, the bride."

You inhale sharply, feeling as though you should hold your breath and you walk forward, breeching the temple doors. The crowd stands. Candles light the isle as you walk, the entire room of friends and family from each side settling their gaze on you. The music softens to an ethereal tune and Alfira simply hums, carefully strumming at her lute. The sights and sounds are enough to bring Gale to tears and he quickly swipes his thumbs under his eyes, Astarion chuckling at him once more until his gaze finally falls upon your frame. He scans your figure and gulps, mumbling a soft "Gods..". His breath catches in his throat, immediately choking him up. The two keep their eyes fixed on you as you walk, your cloak and the small train of your silk dress trailing being you. No goddess could compare to the way you look right now. You smile and blink tears away from your brown eyes, lashes coated in little droplets. Little gasps and coos flutter through the crowd and you approach the altar, Shadowheart reaching out to take your bouquet from you. You carefully hand it off to her and smile, your bottom lip catching between your teeth. She gives you a reassuring nod and you blink slowly. Isobel steps forward, raising both of her hands to instruct the crowd to sit and they obey, little sounds of feet shuffles echoing through the temple room before all falls silent.

"Welcome friends, family, lovers. Tonight we gather under the light of the Moon Maiden Selune to unite these families. Tav, Gale, Astarion, please join hands and kneel before me."

The three of you join hands, Gale capturing your left and Astarion capturing your right. You all kneel on the step of the altar carefully, Astarion and Gale helping to adjust your dress so you don't crumple it beneath your knees. You give each of them a sweet smile before turning your attention back to the cleric. The witnesses at the altar all lower their heads, eyes falling shut as they listen. The cleric sings in an unfamiliar language, raising her hands to the open ceiling of the temple, the full moon shining down on you and all of the guests. You sigh quietly and give Gale and Astarion's hands a gentle squeeze. They return the squeeze and your eyes flutter closed, a sense of calm washing over you while you listen to Isobel’s hymns. Her voice fades out, the room falling silent once more. A cool breeze sweeps through the temple, rustling your hair and cloak, making you shiver. The cleric stares up at the sky, eyes glowing with the bright light of the moon.

"She is with us.. Moon Maiden, hear me. Grant your love and protection over these souls as they unite under your light. Embrace them in your warmth, oh mother. Lead them through darkness, through sickness, through blight. Fill their hearts with your patience. Show them the way. So it shall be."

The crowd quietly mumbles in response "So it shall be". Isobel turns to a small table on the altar, two silver chalices shimmering in the moonlight placed with purpose in the middle of it. Your fingers tremble with excitement in your lovers' hands. The cleric raises the chalice carefully to the open sky, mumbling in the unfamiliar language again before instructing you to stand. You release Gale and Astarion's hands and approach Isobel.

"Moon milk, for protection, abundance, and fertility. Drink, my child. Accept the Moon Maiden into your heart and into your womb. Allow her to guide you. So it shall be."

You accept the chalice from her strong hands, raising it to the sky and mumbling "So it shall be" before taking a small sip of the milk, the cool liquid coating your throat and you sigh. She encourages you to finish the chalice with a small wave of the hand. You oblige, tilting your head back and swallowing the last of the sweet drink. You hand her the chalice carefully and she places a hand on your abdomen, mumbling quietly to herself. Astarion raises an eyebrow. Gale swats at his hand and the vampire grunts quietly. The cleric eyes the two men before tracing the symbol of a moon into your forehead, finally releasing you to join your lovers once more. She then motions for the two men to join her and she raises the second chalice into the air, mumbling a new prayer to the open sky.

"Wine, for protection, abundance, and patience. Drink, my child. Accept the Moon Maiden into your heart. Allow her to guide you. So it shall be."

She hands the chalice to Astarion first. He eyeballs the liquid inside. White wine. Certainly not his favorite. He closes his eyes and raises the chalice to the sky. "So it shall be." Taking a small sip, his body trembles at the taste, the unfamiliar burn making him cough lightly. Halsin chuckles and Wyll nudges his shoulder to shut him up. Shadowheart shoots eyes like daggers in their direction and they turn their attention back to the display on the alter, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Astarion hands the cleric the chalice and she then hands it to Gale, the ritual being repeated exactly the same way. The cleric clasps her hands together and smiles at the three of you, motioning for you to join hands one more and you obey.

"Family, friends, witnesses. By the power of the Moon Maiden Selune, I now declare these three to be wed. You may now share a kiss."

Astarion wastes no time pulling you to him, his lips crashing to yours and the crowd of guests cheers. Volo quickly motions for the group of bards to play "Bard Dance", Alfira strumming happily on her lute, spinning in little circles and dancing about with the others. Gale keeps hold on your hand, impatiently waiting for Astarion to stop the theatrics before he pulls you over to him. He embraces you gently, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss, much less desperate than Astarions. You sigh against his lips and the vampire scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, a small smirk hanging on his wet lips. Shadowheart, Wyll, Halsin, and Karlach all rush down to the three of you, embracing you in a tight group hug. You giggle, smashed between all of the warm bodies and Astarion groans out loud.

"Gods, you're all too much!"

...

The long and exhausting night of festivities comes to a close, family and friends bidding your their final farewells as they seek the inns for sleep. Halsin throws a drunken Shadowheart over his stocky shoulder and she beats against his muscular back in protest, small hiccups leaving her before she finally gives in and goes limp in his grasp. Karlach stumbles into Wyll, laughing loudly, her bright flames burning a deep shade of purple and she wiggles an eyebrow in his direction. Wyll sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his index finger. You giggle to yourself, your own wine buzz sending tingles up and down your spine. You eye your new husbands, both seemingly tired of the shenanigans that they've watched all night. The trek to your tower is short, filled with giggles and little kisses, reminiscing about the nights' events.

Astarion scoops your small frame up bridal style once you reach the front door, chucking at the small yelp he earns from you and he carries you past the threshold of the quaint wizard tower, Gale following close behind with your cloak in hand. He watches you both with love drunk eyes, carefully closing the front door behind the group and he tosses your cloak onto the bench below him. Astarion places you on your feet and you smooth your dress down carefully, reaching back to remove the moon hair pin that Shadowheart had given to you. With a swift tug, the pin releases your hair, the thick dark braids on top of your head falling with it and the plaits unravel themselves. You shake your head to further release your hair, the locks falling in perfect waves down your shoulders and back now. You reach your hands up to soothingly scratch at your scalp, sighing in pure pleasure at the relief taking down your hair has given you. Gale moves behind you now, hands resting on your hips, rubbing soothing circle into them as he leans down and buries his face into the side of your neck. He inhales your scent, the perfume you chose for your wedding night standing out to him distinctly. Rose water and orchid, a flowery scent he wasn't used to smelling on you. He sighs against your skin, peppering the area with the softest little kisses. Astarion steps toward the two of you, pressing his torso to yours, his hands resting on top of Gales at your hips. He pecks a kiss to your forehead, leaving a trail of kisses to the opposite side of your neck from Gale and he takes inventory of the knew smell as well. You shudder at the sudden overwhelming amount of sensations, your entire body breaking out in goosebumps. Gales fingers move to your back, fiddling with the corset lacing holding your dress on your body.

"Why don't we.. Get this off."

He tugs at one of the laces, loosening the ties. The dress drapes on your frame and Astarion reaches his hands up to slide the silk fabric down your shoulders, bodice moving down your torso to expose your breasts, nipples already hardening at the temperature change. You hiss at the cold air now assaulting your chest and back, both men making quick work of sliding your dress the rest of the way down your shivering body. Two pairs of lips latch to your skin, Astarion's sucking little bruises on the flesh of your breast while Gale works the side of your neck, tongue lapping at the skin there sweetly. You lean back into Gale, pulling Astarion closer to you, your mouth falling open. The vampire's right hand comes up to grasp at your breast, kneading the sensitive flesh as he kisses and licks on the other, tongue occasionally flicking over your painfully erect nipple. You buck your hips backwards, ass meeting Gale's growing bulge. You groan in excitement, completely unsure of what to do with your hands. Reaching forward needily, you gasp at the front of Astarions coat, fumbling with the silver metal buttons.

"Hm, a needy little thing, isn't she Gale?"

Astarion's honeyed tone makes your knees buckle. Gale nods in agreement, fingers toying with the plush skin of your thighs now.

"I think we should take this upstairs."

Gale lifts you into his arms and begins to ascend the stairs, leaving your wedding dress in the middle of the floor. You lace your arms around his neck, gazing up into his hungry eyes. He looks forward, determined to make it to the bedroom quickly. Astarion follows close behind, sliding his coat off and tossing it behind him, fingers working on the buttons of his silk shirt next. He smirks at you over Gale's shoulder and you eye him carefully, bottom lip trapped between chattering teeth. You let out an audible gasp when Gale suddenly tosses you onto the bed. You sink into the soft pillows and blankets, the smooth fabrics against your naked skin feeling absolutely delicious. Astarion steps behind Gale, helping him remove his coat and shirt, the two men standing in only their leathers now. You peer up at them, arousal burning between your thighs. Astarion steps in front of Gale and traces his fingers around the mark of the orb, earning a shuddering moan from Gale's lips. In a swift motion, Astarion captures Gale's lips with his, his hand sliding up and into the back of his hair. The two men press tightly together, hips grinding into one another feverishly. You groan at the sight. Gods, they're beautiful. Gale pulls away reluctantly and chews his bottom lip, eyes fixed on Astarion's before moving to you, your naked body causing him to salivate. He moves to the bed, reaching down to run his fingers over the soft silk of your underwear. He was surprised you'd worn any at all.

"Off with them."

His tone is commanding and unfamiliar, but you obey him, thumbs sliding into the corners of the fabric. You drag them down your thighs and kick them off. Astarion raises an eyebrow in amusement at the wizard's new found courage, hands resting on his hips.

"I'm impressed, Gale. What else can you do?"

Gale scoffs. Astarion takes a seat next to you on the bed, moving up and behind you so your head can rest in his lap and he strokes your soft hair away from your face. Grinning up at him, you pucker your lips playfully and he chuckles. Gale settles at the end of the bed, fingers tracing lazy shapes into your thighs, a quiet yawn stretching his mouth open.

"Careful, wizard. You'll catch flies."

"Gods I'm so happy I married you, Astarion."

You giggle at their banter and pure joy engulfs you in warmth. This moment is perfect. You are happy. Never did you think you'd be wed to both Gale and Astarion, a fantasy most ladies in Faerun wouldn't dare mutter in public. You feel so lucky. Your thoughts are halted suddenly as Gale slides his fingers up your inner thigh, pressing your legs apart and into the bed beneath you. You gasp loudly at the force of his grip. He smirks up at you from between your legs, brown eyes glowing in the lanternlight. Watching hip lick his lips at the sight of you makes your body weak and you slump back against Astarion, his toned arms pulling you up and into his lap gently, hands pushing your thighs apart for Gale once more. You chew on the skin of your bottom lip, picking little pieces off and drawing blood. Tiny droplets dot your lips and Astarion catches on to the scent immediately, lids lowering. He inhales deeply through his nose. "Mm.. A treat." Your lips flatten into a smirk. Gale sits up on his knees, reaching his fingers out to trace the top of your mound. You hiss and shudder. Astarion nuzzles his nose into your neck, breathing heavily against the sensitive skin there, tongue flicking out to trace the barely healed pierce marks from his last feeding. You obediently tilt your head to the side to expose more of your neck to him. With a quiet groan, he sinks his teeth into your tender flesh and begins to suck, earning a steady stream of crimson. You grasp onto the soft sheets beneath you, pain like shards of glass making you tense until the familiar numbness sets in. You go limp. Gale watches closely, taking advantage of your boneless state to swipe his fingers through your slick folds. You react quickly, hips bucking forward at the new sensation. Astarion pulls away to lick the remnants of your blood from his lips. He grins.

Your legs tremble with excitement and you wiggle your hips, silently begging to be touched again. Gale grants you temporary relief with another swipe, this time lower. He collects your slick on the tip of his finger and spreads it around your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles. You mewl in response to the gentle friction, rolling your hips upwards to push against his fingers. He backs off, shaking his head at you and you whine.

"Patience, my love."

"Yes, patience, pet."

Astarion smirks and licks a long stripe up the side of your neck, sliding a hand up into the back of your hair and giving your head a forceful tug back. You yelp in pain, gritting your teeth. The low growl that rumbles in Astarion's chest makes your hips buck upwards and Gale chuckles, fingers meeting your core once more. He circles his fingers around the outside of your clit, dipping down to collect more of the slick that's pooling beneath you now, a puddle forming on the sheets.

"Hm.. So messy. Just for us, Astarion."

Gale groans, sliding a finger into your aching cunt and you cry out into the night air, Astarion leaning in close to your ear to coach you through the sensations. He whispers softly, making your cheeks and chest flush deep red.

"That's it.. So good. So good."

You spread your legs wider for Gale, writhing in Astarion's tight grip. He hushes you, fingers tightening around your tangled locks. He pushes your head forward, forcing you to watch as Gale inserts another finger, pumping in and out slowly, not giving you any time to adjust to being filled by his thick digits. Gale grinds his hips into the mattress and moans at the small amounts of friction his leathers provide. Astarion watches intensely, eyes flicking from you, to Gale, and back again, his own erection straining painfully against his leathers. He reaches a free hand down and palms at his bulge. Gale curves his fingers upwards inside of you, your walls fluttering at the change of position and you melt into Astarion's lap now, moans silencing to strained gasps. Your mouth hangs open. Gods, he's torturing you. The pale vampling behind you releases his grip on your hair, smoothing the tousled locks back into place, his eyes fixed on Gale's hand now, digits pumping furiously in and out of your cunt. That knot tightens in your belly, threatening to snap at any moment. You grind your hips up against Gale's palm and whine his name loudly, hands now resting on Astarion's thighs and you use them as leverage to push yourself up further towards Gale.

Astarion leans back on his hands, perfectly content with watching the show. It's no secret that Astarion finds so much pleasure in watching you be pleasured. Whether it be by him, yourself, or someone else. The sight and sounds alone are enough to completely unravel him. You learned this during your encounter in the Underdark and you think about it often. The way he's comfortable just sitting back and watching Gale touch you. Gale has learned the same habit in the couple of weeks the three of you have lived together before the wedding. A few nights were spent with Astarion between your legs and Gale just watching. Enjoying. Savoring the moment. You always offered to reciprocate, and they both often refuse. This moment is no different.

"G-Gale, I'm so close.."

Gale leans in quickly, the flat of his tongue pressing firmly to your clit, rubbing back and forth against the swollen nub while his fingers continue to pump into your cunt, arousal coating his hand. Your hips find a steady rhythm and you grind upwards, pleasure bubbling, bubbling, bubbling, BURSTING inside of your gut. You gasp loudly, clinging to Astarion's legs on either side of you, riding the tidal wave of your orgasm as Gale continues to lick at you furiously. His fingers slow their motion and he carefully slides them out, your jaw falling open again at the sudden emptiness. Your walls flutter around nothing, swollen clit pulsating. You bring your knees to your chest, curling up into Astarion's abdomen, wanting nothing more than to be simply absorbed by him. He chuckles at the closeness and lies down on his side, tugging your back to his torso. He snakes his arms sleepily around you, Gale following suit to snuggle up to the front of you. Both men hold you and each other tightly, exchanging sleepy kisses and rubbing noses with one another. Your eyes meet Gale's and you mumble softly.

"Is there anything.. I can do? For you?"

Gale shakes his head, hand lifting to cup your still flushed cheeks and he strokes your high cheekbone with his rough thumb.

"Nothing at all."

He smiles down at you and you offer the same question to Astarion. He ponders for a moment, unsure of how to answer. He's never been asked what he wants. Not in situations like this, anyway. He contemplates his options. He could obviously ask you to pleasure him. Get on your knees and let him rut into your mouth, let him use your holes like any other woman that's ever lusted after him. He shakes his head and grins, pressing a loving kiss to the top of your head.

"You've given me the one thing that no one else ever has, my love."

You quirk an eyebrow in confusion, turning your head to face him. Gale yawns, crawling out of bed to quickly check all of the curtains in the room, pressing any two together that he thinks might let in a little too much sunlight in the morning. He smiles to himself once each window is sufficiently covered and climbs back into bed, pulling a blanket up over the three of you. You watch Astarion for a moment before quietly asking.

"And what is that?"

He sighs happily, nuzzling his face into your warm neck, pressing you impossibly close to him. A quiet yawn escapes him and his lids flutter closed.

"A choice."

[axl-ion]

Since I can't fall asleep here are couple of proposals why Ingo ended up in Hisui, although I will start with my personal preference, which is just... Leaving a lot of the details vague.

My idea is that Ingo never learns why or how he ended up in Hisui, even if/when he regains/unlocks his memory, because the fall itself was so sudden and traumatic for his brain it just shut down. He'll never remember how he fell, because he actually does not possess the memory as the brain didn't create one OR it permanently locked the memory in the subconscious so it can never be unavailed and Ingo can't get retraumatised by it.

A theory I also pair up with this one is that Ingo wasn't even meant to travel to Hisui in the 1st place, but ended up there thanks to Earth's rotation. Because he didn't necessarily have to travel to the same exact o'clock in the past and the difference could have been significant enough for the Earth to be in a different phase of its rotation than when the time jump happened.

Other proposal is what's already in the cannon, that Volo's usage of Giratina just managed to open a rift that suck Ingo in. Although keep in mind that Ingo would probably have to have been in Sinnoh for this to happen since well... You can't get Unovan Pokémon from the rifts and I KNOW I KNOW, several Unovan Pokémon received Hisuian forms, but I'm taking it more as they originated from there (except for Samurott, any wild member of its line is probably an invasive species) or share an ancestor that's recent enough for them to look so similar (also how cool would be an ancestral Zoroark that's just Normal type that evolved into Hisuian Zoroark because... We know why... And into Unovan Zoroark because it just kept thieving, stealing, taking what's not yours, thieving stealing taking what's not yours 🎶). Them not being the exact same species is somewhat possible, because usually if nature figures out that something works it just keeps replicating that.

3rd proposal is that he ended up there, because he already has ancestors there, which is my freshest idea and honestly Idk how that would work, but at the same time, I think it would be very VERY FUNNY if Cogita turned out to be his great-great-great-great...-aunt/grandmother which I only did because they both don't look that old (Ingo in his BW/B2W2 appearances) and already have gray/white hair which imo has to be genetic and Ingo (+ like... Most Unovan characters) just is very racially/culturally ambiguous and American which basically means - you can give him any ethnicity and it would be believable without changing anything about their design (not like you can't edit their designs to make him be from your culture, I will eat up any Ingo content as long as it isn't proship material, I've seen and liked Latino Submas, I think I also have seen Korean Submas somewhere, but I have a memory of a goldfish, but yeah, I would even eat up Black Submas, if you got some send them to me or just any Submas x insert culture I appreciate being sent posts). But the funny part would be Ingo being distantly related to Volo. Like bro wanted to rewrite the universe only for God to throw his distant relative with whom he only shares 1 blood relative to tell him "This guy has intrigued me more than you and your Giratina stunt does so you're stuck with him now! And you're distantly related!"

[brodygold]

Golden Army: Dragon Heist Part 2

Part 1 here

The Golden Army headed through the city of Waterdeep, looking for Floon, who had been missing since last night. Brody knew time was of the essence for finding missing people. The more time that passed, the fewer clues they could find. Volo (and his monetary reward) was counting on them. He fiddled with his lute as the mid afternoon sun beat down on them.

"Alright bros. Let's split up to cover more ground. Me, Ross, and Daniel will check out The Skewered Dragon and see if anyone saw him leave. Scott, Henry, and Grayden, I want you bros to check the surrounding area for any clues. Any questions?"

"Just one, Brody. Did Volo give you a description of Floon to work with?" Grayden asked, "That seems like something important."

"He sure did, Grayden. Floon is a well dressed man of average height with long red hair. He was wearing a quote 'very ugly pearl necklace with a seashell on it' end quote."

"That's not a lot to go off of, bro" Henry added.

"I know, bro. But we want that reward money so we gotta find the guy. Now let's go! Meet back here in an hour."

And so the party split off, ready to find the missing man.

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

"Are you sure there's going to be clues here?"

"Of course, bro! There's gonna be clues all over- OH WHAT IS THAT!?" Scott ran over to a nearby store window, putting his head against the glass.

"Scott, now is not the time for window shopping innit. We gotta look for Floon." Henry sighed.

"But look at that big plushie! I want it!"

Grayden sighed and looked down as his two teammates got into yet another argument about wants versus needs. That's when he spotted something glistening on the sidewalk: A rather ugly pearl necklace with a pink seashell attached.

"Interesting..."

Grayden looked back up, an idea forming in his head. "Hey Scott, do you want to take a look around inside?"

"Oh don't tell me you're taking his side in this bro."

"Not at all. I just want to speak to the owner for a second."

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

The Skewered Dragon had definitely seen better days. The front facing windows were completely smashed in and a ship's anchor was lodged in the roof. It was definitely the seedy part of town, that much Brody was sure of.

"Why would a well-off man come drinking someplace like this?" He wondered.

The inside of the tavern didn't look much better. The decor was very much nautical, and the dockworker patrons only added to the setting. Brody and Ross walked up to the bartender while Daniel approached the various patrons to see if anyone else was there last night.

"Hey there bro. We're looking for a man named Floon Blaagmar. Well dressed, long red hair, ugly necklace around his neck. Sound familiar?"

"Can't say me memory's too good right now, especially not for strangers. Maybe some coin would loosen me tongue." The bartender smirked.

Ross pulled out one of his many knives and stuck it in the counter. "Maybe some blood would loosen it too. Wanna find out, mate?"

The bartender visibly gulped. "Fine. Worth a shot anyhow. Guy's a regular here. He drank with two men that night, one after the other. He and the second man left around midnight after some drinks and a round of Three Dragon Ante."

One of the patrons Daniel was talking with interrupted. "Are youse talking about Renaer Neverember? Stuck up noble who loves to rub our faces in it."

"You mean the son of former Open Lord Dagult Neverember? I thought he'd have been in Neverwinter with his father." Daniel howled.

"Well I guess he wanted to stick around," another patron added, "not like it did 'em any good. A group of men followed the two of them out last night. Dunno what happened next but can't have been good. One had a tattoo of a snake on his neck."

A snake tattoo? That could only mean one thing.

"The Zhentarim are involved." Brody whispered.

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

As the hour passed, the two groups met back up to discuss what they'd found.

"A group of Zhents followed Floon and his drinking partner out of the tavern. They came in this direction." Brody said as the others approached. He noticed Scott holding a plushie in his hands and cried for their finances.

"They were attacked outside of the Old Xoblob Shop. The owner saw five men attack the two, one of whom had a snake tattoo on his neck. We also found Floon's necklace." Grayden added.

"Wow that is ugly." Daniel commented.

"Apparently the Zhents have a warehouse they use on Candle Lane. Might get some clues if we look there." Brody wondered just what they would find at the warehouse of a rival mercenary group. One with much more influence but a much worse reputation.

"So what are we waiting for? Let's go find our guys!" Ross exclaimed, holding his dagger in the air for emphasis.

"Technically we're only looking for Floon."

"I'll bet rescuing a noble will bring us a lot of cash though, bros!" Scott said in excitement, the plushie shaking as he spoke animatedly.

"You got it, bro. To Candle Lane!"

Candle Lane wasn't very far away, and the group arrived at the warehouse in a matter of minutes, a snake imprinted on the door telling the Golden Army they had the right place. Of course, the door was locked.

"I've got this bros. One second." Ross pulled out his trusty tools and got to work, unlocking the door with a few flicks of the wrist.

"Alright bros. We're going to be doing this quietly," Brody whispered, "We sneak in, look for clues, and get out before anyone notices us. Understood?"

"Yes Cap." The others spoke in unison.

"Good. I'll go first." Brody opened the door to the warehouse slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible. Inside he spotted a group of four raven-esque creatures, huddled together in the center of the room. All was quiet until the sound of the floor creaking alerted everyone in the room to their presence.

"Oops." Brody whispered.

"INTRUDERS!"

To be continued...

Want to join the Golden Army for real? Contact me, @goldenherc9 or @polo-drone-001

[legacyshenanigans]

Marvolo x Rowan🐍🐺

He leaned over, taking him by surprise. Marvolo let out a confused grunt as he felt Rowans lips smash into his own. Rowans hands quickly found their way to his hips, a growl pushed out of his throat, pulling Marvolo against him. When his mind finally comprehended what was happening, Marvolo let himself melt into the moment. His own hands grabbed at Rowan as they stumbled across the room, banging into shelves and other furniture, their tongues fighting in each other's mouths.

Marvolo broke the kiss momentarily. His low, breathless voice whispering against Rowans lips.

Marvolo: Not here...

Another growl left Rowan, this one different, impatient, but with an undertone of a desperate whimper. He pushed his hips forward, seeking friction. Marvolo could feel Rowans hard bulge against his thigh.

Marvolo: Fuuuck..

Rowan: *whispers deeply* I need it..

He leaned his head forward, licking up Marvolos neck before sucking on his flesh. Volos eyes flickered closed as a low moan escaped him. With a flick of his wrist, his wand potruded from his sleeve, aiming towards the door to make sure it was locked to save any intruding and unwanted visitor's from walking in, before he dropped his wand to the floor, grabbing the sides of Rowans head to searingly kiss his lips once more.

The pair once again stumbled, over towards the sofa, crashing down onto it, finding it hard to keep their hands off each other, pawing at one another's clothing in this heated moment. The room starting to fill with the sounds of their breathy moans and grunts. Marvolo straddled Rowan, grinding his own now hardened length with Rowans. A sinful smirk curled on Rowans face, making Marvolo chuckle deeply down at him as he bit his bottom lip.

A knock from the other side of the door suddenly ripped them from their thoughts, the two of them frowning as their heads snapped towards that direction.

Marvolo: What?!

Volo called out in frustration. Before one of the Den workers responded, telling him the men he had a meeting with had arrived. He looked down at Rowan, the pair having a whispered conversation.

Marvolo: Shit..Fuck, I forgot..

Rowan: Are ya fuckin serious right now?

Marvolo: Shhh, Rowan... *sigh* Damn it.. I have to have this meeting..

Rowan let out frustrated noise, pushing himself up against Volo once more.

Rowan: The fuck am I supposed to do with this?

Referring to the solid hardness beneath his clothing.

Marvolo: You're not the only one..

Marvolo got off him, combing his hand through his own hair and doing back up the buttons of his shirt to make himself look presentable before wandering over to his desk. He turned towards Rowan and smirked..

Marvolo: This shouldn't take too long... Go upstairs.. Wait for me..

Rowan stood, palming himself through his trousers, his own smirk playing on his lips, a fang poking out.

Rowan: Ya better hurry.. 'Cause I'm gonna lose m'self..

~

[leaves-and-inks]

Quinn Cyprus has a warm attitude and a reassuring charm, but hidden behind his easy smile is a past he’s never stopped running from….

Character sheet for my bg3 tav, Quinn (and one of his animal companions)!! I really wanted to practice rendering things like fabric and skin, esp. in different lighting situations, and also refine my style (I went too long not drawing lips lol). I had fun working on this and learned a lot! It was good to try and figure out his design too, especially in color. It’s different than how I dyed his cape/armor in-game but I don't have mod support yet and there's only so much you can do with the regular dyes 😅 He did also end up with Volo’s blue eye, for Reasons. (maybe I’ll make a comic on it, but tbh I’m still figuring out that part of his backstory lol).

[ID: Several Illustrations of a man, as well as a Cara Cara, on a textured tan background with a cream border. In the bottom left is the text: “Quinn Cyprus” handwritten in multicolored bubble letters. The man has tan skin with freckles and a partial beard, and two different colored eyes. His left is his natural brown eye and his right is a blue eye. He has several facial scars; a wide one across the bridge of his nose, a small one at the bottom of his lip, and two slash-like scars in his left eyebrow. He has a dagger tattoo wrapped in a vine on his neck, directly in the center. He also has a short mullet, with dark brown hair and white sideburns. In the main illustration, a bust, Quinn is on the bottom left of the page wearing a green and white shirt. He has a calm smile. To the left is a close-up on the downturned dagger tattoo. The vine that wraps around it ends in a wilted flower blooming at the tip, and it also has roots up at the end of the handle. Above is another close up of a tattoo drawn to be flat on the page; branches of a cypress tree. The second Quinn drawing is above that. He lays down in a field, resting against a western saddle and saddlebags. He's wearing the same green and white shirt, as well as green pants, and brown cowboy boots with a white toe tip. He looks up wistfully at the sky, with one hand over his stomach and one leg bent up. On the right of the page is Quinn standing in front of an explosion, reaching for a handheld crossbow at his hip. He’s wearing a woolen poncho/shawl, which dramatically flies over the opposite shoulder, chaps with some fringe, and leather armor over his torso. He also wears a wide brimmed hat that casts a shadow over his surprised face. His right hand reaches behind his back, holding a dagger, which only the blade and half of the hilt can be seen. Below him is the drawing of the cara cara, its wings partially unfurled, and its head turning right. It looks at the first drawing of Quinn, a green dotted line cutting across the canvas from its eye to his eyebrow scars. Four pointed stars are scattered across the page./end ID]

[leggerefiore]

A fun (and potentially angsty) request, if you have the time! The final events of PLA end on a sour note for reader and Volo, with Reader eventually just up and returning to their time one day. Later on , Volo is wandering around Pasio only to find a young trainer - i guess around the preschool/kid trainer class age - looking very similar to him & the reader.

cw: volo's behaviour, reader implied to have a kid, short, not really angst, Volo is still Not A Good Guy

pairing: Volo/Reader

Volo would admit his life was full of many regrets and awful things. Being alive sometimes simply felt like a sin to him, yet he continued on to spite the horrible world he found himself in and those terrible feelings inside himself. Everything he did was solely for the pursual of his goals. The deity that avoided his grasp. Frustration still burned in his chest, but his goal had yet to pass. His intentions to pursue this path, no matter how much time it consumed were unyielding. Even in the face of a loved one.

That had been a rare thing in the merchant's life. Love. Those of his bloodline were long gone, barring another survivor. You had been truly something special, if not another painful for him to face. Arceus had sent you to intervene — Daring to choose you, an outsider, over him. It had driven him to a certain madness, but he found himself also entranced. The deity still had chosen you, and, in his pursuit of it, he had grown close to you. Far too close. The sting of your wholehearted rejection of his plans still burned inside his chest. He was truly not over it. You even had the gall to entirely vanish afterward — apparently having abandoned Hisui back for the era that you had been spit from.

Yes, Volo would admit to facing many, many painful things.

But he was nothing if not determined to put an end to it all.

Pasio intrigued him. His curiosity as an intellectual flourished and his goal felt aligned within his sight once more. Arceus's attention was on this island, choosing those among the most powerful to receive its blessing. Volo felt giddy at the plain opportunity. There was bountiful information around as well. Researchers from all around had gathered and allowed the blond to catch information as he pleased. Rei even had backed out of daring to reveal him, seemingly opting to take a “wait and see” path with him. What a fool. The so-called prince governing this place was easy enough to manipulate to his whims as well. That little man was so desperate for acknowledgement that he played easily into Volo's hands.

He readjusted his backpack as he looked around in the city centre. It was bustling as usual, many wandering around with purpose. Others vacantly moved wherever their whims called them to. Volo was just once among the crowd, leading to him sighing. It was a slow but steady progress. His apprehension lapped at him painfully even still. He wanted nothing more than to recreate this ephemeral world. As he walked, he found himself stopping as a child ran right into him.

They almost instantly pulled back and rubbed their forehead. Volo stiffened. Blonde hair fell over their left eye. His initial reaction had been similar to that of seeing Cynthia. He was not going to plead ignorance to his bloodline being continued. Except, when they looked up at him to apologise, their eyes reminded him far too much of another person. A familiar person. He swallowed. It was a little girl, far too young to be wandering around, he felt. Even in Hisui, small children were often kept to homes. “I'm sorry, mister!” Her voice was small, and her words were a bit untrained. His heart raced. He gave a perfect customer service smile and shook his head.

“No,” he spoke gently, kneeling down to her height, “It's quite alright. You seemed to be a rush, hm? Where are your parents?” His eyes peered at the pendant around her neck. The familiar teardrop shape told him so much with so little. She tilted her head at his questions, seemingly hesitant to tell a stranger that. He wanted to chuckle. So much like himself. Your name left his lips causing her to jump a little. “I'm friends with them,” he smiled so easily, “I've actually been meaning to meet with them here. Won't you take me to them?”

The little girl nodded, seemingly excited to meet one of your friends. Her small hand found his own. He gently took it. Oddly, he felt proud of the girl. He saw so much potential in her — Something of her being manifest of the relationship that you and he had shared at one point. You even cared enough to introduce her to his culture. He could have felt anger at the situation; of being left out of her life thus far, but he saw an opportunity. There was much to talk about when you two met once more.

“What's your name?” he asked, finally.

“Astrea,” she smiled.

Volo wondered how to include you both in his world.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Lay on Hands

Astarion x F! Tav

18+ sub/dom, use of mage hand, power play, threats, dirty talk, groping, fingering (f!), restraint, p-in-v, roughness, porn w/o plot

In the early hours of the morning someone cant keep their hands to themselves...

-

"Sleepy," She moaned in protest against his roaming hands, nestling into his pillow.

Honestly, she should know better by now. To be so beautiful and in his bed.

That in turning away from him in her sleep the blanket would pull with her, revealing the delicous line of her hip, her waist. That curling her leg up would only flaunt the round curve of her ass. That the sweet lavender would still be caught in her hair from her bathing. That her underclothes, still dreadfully on, would tease at the edges of her hips.

Even in his camp shirt, the sight always making him hazy. The ruffle of the collar plunging into her cleavage.

Truly, how could he resist?

She sighed against him as his fingers traced the inside hem of her small clothes, hooking underneath. Not quite pulling, not yet.

"Astarion.." She whined into her arm, yet her hips pushed slightly into him.

"Such a delectable display," He murmured into the curve of her neck. "How can I not indulge?"

Ran his tongue light against the soft skin. Felt her shiver against his chest.

Turning onto her back to look at him, his hands free to new landscape. An unrestricted eyeful of how divinely his shirt hung from her curves.

Gave him a withering look, convincing no one.

"It's so early," His mouth burying into her shoulder, humming in agreement, body hovering over her. Fingers travelling, tasting. "Do you have no- ah!" A quick gasp as he thumbed over her nipple. "-decency?" She finished. Leg curling around his hip.

"Never." He smiled, fingers pinching lightly through the fabric of his shirt. "And you should know that by now, darling."

"Well then," She hissed into his ear, hand in his hair. Pulling. "You wont expect me to play fair then, will you?"

He groaned, hoping for this outcome. She was so easy to rile up. Teasing his throat in the vipers mouth.

Flipping quickly she straddled his chest, knees pinning his elbows down, his hands splayed next to his head.

Breath caught in his throat, this was new.

Her fingers drawing the line of his clavicle.

A sigh. Eyes alight.

"Volo."

The spectral hand appeared behind her back, invisible to him. Could feel a single finger trace up his thigh.

Eyes wide he arched against her, groaning, making her rise slightly.

An evil glitter in her eyes. "Already?" She purred. Leaning down onto his chest, chin rested on folded hands. Her full weight holding him. Watching.

"You conniving she-devil," He panted, the unseen hand running lazy circles over his bulge.

Turning her head slightly, a deceptively sweet smile spreading her face. "Oh? You want to play by the rules now?" Hand below palming him so lightly.

Rising on knees, rumbling into his ear. "When I'm just getting started?"

Giving him a quick vantage point between her legs, her ghost fingers wrapping tight around him.

"Fuck," He hissed. She sat back again, satisfied. Could feel the wetness of her underclothes against his sternum.

"Fuck what, my love?"

"Fuck you."

"Not yet."

The hand came up over her shoulder, pulling the collar of his shirt away from her long neck. Dancing along her pulse. Fingers splaying as she licked them obscenely. A line of saliva trailing from its spectral fingertips.

He moaned, hips thrusting into nothing.

Both her hands pushing her hair back, ribcage lifting. Eyes closed. Hand trailing down her neck, pulling the ties of his tunic, slowly unlacing with rough pulls.

Despicably hard below her, he thought he was going to go mad.

Only when the still slick hand cupped her breast, her fluid smearing a patch of transparency across the thin white fabric, did his resolve break.

"Please," He whined quietly, hands clenching near his ears.

Her eyes slid open, hand dragging across her other breast, revealing further.

"Please what, beautiful?"

Throbbed hard at her compliment. "Please let me touch..." His right hand straining against her hold.

She bit her lip, pretending to consider. The hand cupping up the side of her neck, running over his favorite spot to feed. Her low sigh against it.

She moaned, phantom hand running its thumb against her lower lip. Teasing inside. Making him wait.

Smiling wickedly at the flush of frustration climbing his neck.

"How can I deny those sweet eyes," She breathed, sliding back, releasing.

He practically scrambled over her. With a grunt, pulled her Godsdamned underclothes off. Fingers plunging inside her. Rough. Fast. Vengeful.

Her head fell back, already fluttering against his fingers. Mouth hot on her neck. His pace brutal.

"Oh Gods, Astarion," she panted into the curl of his hair, pulling her leg up into her chest.

He could only growl in response, fingers a flurry. Free hand gripping into her hair.

A pressure against his ear. Gods he had already forgotten about the hand.

Thumbing just like she knew melted him. His eyes flashed. Still she teases him.

"Darling," He warned, low. Fingers still punishing. "You're going to regret it if you keep this up."

Her eyes glittered. Bit a smile at him.

"Prove it." Phantom hand pinching.

Whispered, raspy. "I dare you."

Hooking her leg around his hip he pulled her up. Hand freeing himself, fast as lightning, he slammed inside her.

She moaned loud, back arched, choked out a little laugh.

His hips brutal, he rolled into her. Right hand pushing smearing circles into her clit. Left pushing down on her throat.

Her mage hand dissipating as her concentration broke.

A delicous little whimper left her and he smiled wide. Malicious. "There we go," He purred.

Already clenching around him, he hitched her up higher. Hitting that spot that made her mewl.

"Vith uns'aa isilme!" She cursed in Drow, so low he could barely hear. Oh he had her now.

"What was that, darling?" Pushed forward into her ear. Revelling.

"I said," She breathed, voice hot. Her hand gripping the back of his neck. Switching to Elvish.

"Arkhlavae tel'quiet salen illunathros."

Fuck me my moonlight.

He groaned loud, eyes pulling shut. Her words, the way her tongue danced over the syllables, driving him into her viciously. Hips snapping.

How did she always gain the upper hand?

"Siilens thar, alet nesh tel'quiet Veluthe.." She breathed into his ear.

That's good, come for me Beautiful.

Too much, his resolve shattered again. Hips stuttering, he was teetering over the abyss.

"Tet," Drow again, low, throaty. Could hear the smile in her voice. "Ussta xukuth.."

He was gone. Thrown over. Gripping her hips he lunged into her. A wet guttural sound ripping from him. Hips spasming. Biting down, hard, on her shoulder. Drawing blood.

Her legs wrapped strong around his hips, pulling him in even harder. Matching his relentless pace. Grinding him down.

Something between a whimper and a growl left him. Her hips merciless. Locked in.

No choice but to ride his high to almost insanity. Panting, begging moans, words lost. Oblivion.

Only when he was slumped comepletely into her did she stop. His breath a gulping gasp.

Gods it would take all morning to recover.

"What," He struggled out, her hands scratching his scalp lightly, just how she knew he liked. "What did you say?"

"Lovely." Pressing a sweet kiss into his hairline. "My heart..."

~

[fave-fight]

ROUND 1, MATCH 20

NO MAGIC, POWERS, OR WEAPONS

Little Mac:

“He's a professional boxer who is used to facing cheating opponents.”

“This scrawny little 17yo 5’7” dude has beaten the heavyweight world champ in a boxing match. He has also beaten Donkey Kong, a literal buff gorilla, in a boxing match. This dude could easily take down anyone in a fistfight (as long as you give him a few tries to get the attack patterns down).”

“he beat up all the countries”

Volo:

“Peopel want to think he’s buff as if he isn’t a fucking twig look at his model”

“He loses to the player character in a pokemon fight, and player character is like 15 years old - and this is with him getting 8 pokemon when you include Giratina stage 1 and 2. If you took away the pokemon and made him fight with his fists he would still probably lose because he has wet cat energy. Talks big game but can't always follow through with the threat type vibes.”

“He could stab everyone with his hair”

[fennelwrites]

Part 2 of reader who can talk to Pokémon please!!!!!!!

(a/n: HI HELLO I'M NOT DEAD i say despite having said exactly that last time oops

but um. yeah idk i wanted to write again and i had the bug so i'm here now oopsie! idk if i'll ever have a consistent schedule again but i did finish something for the first time in a while so here you get Content

also. thank you all for your patience with me. i am sorry it has taken me literal years to get to requests but i promise you they are in progress and i have not given up on them, so i hope you haven't either!! i still love this little scrinkle scrunkle and i hope he hasn't faded from your consciousnesses yet

anyway enjoy the fic uwu)

You leaned against the smooth surface of the Mossy Rock, waiting for a familiar head of blond hair to appear. Around you, the Buneary gave you a wide berth, but you heard them gossipping about you from afar. You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore them, even as they snarked about Volo’s outfit.

Your visits to the Mossy Rock had almost become weekly occurrences at this point. At first, you thought he might not come back, but lo and behold, he’d arrived with his Pokemon in tow. Now, you spent most of your time here. You weren’t sure what it was, but there was something that drew you to the place. Drew you to Volo. Perhaps it was the fact that you’d felt understood for the first time in years, the first time you’d felt like that weight was lifted off of your shoulders.

You knew it was a little foolish, but you hoped Volo felt that way too. 

Sure enough, a few moments after you’d gotten yourself settled in the grass, the gentle, delicate chirps of a Togekiss heralded Volo’s arrival. He smiled at you as he approached, the angelic Pokemon flying low over his head. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long,” he greeted, sitting down next to you. “I wasn’t,” you replied, smiling softly. “How was the trip?”

As time passed, you talked about all sorts of things, from the weather in the Highlands to the Starly passing overhead. Volo had made a little home for himself just outside the Obsidian Fieldlands, far enough away from Jubilife Village that he wouldn’t be seen but close enough to take advantage of the region’s naturally fair weather. He’d given you the rough location so that you could come see him when you next had time off, an outing you eagerly looked forward to.

Ever so slowly, the sun made its way across the sky, and it painted the Heartwood in soft dusty pinks by the time you came to a natural pause in conversation. All around, you could hear gentle whispers and chirps of the forest Pokemon, going about their lives with their usual hustle and bustle. There were many of them, but you’d gotten used to tuning them out so they weren’t overwhelming.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Volo’s slate gray eyes locked onto you, and you turned. “Something the matter?”

Volo was silent for a moment before looking out to the forest. “You’re hearing them, aren’t you?”

You nodded. “Nothing special. Just…them going about their lives, you know?”

“Right…” Volo trailed off, finding something transfixing about the dirt.

You furrowed your brow, looking at Volo with concern. “Is everything okay?”

He didn’t respond right away; for a moment, you worried you’d overstepped some unspoken boundary. Then, finally, he spoke. “Did…my Pokemon ever say anything about me?”

This caught your attention as well as Togekiss’s; the avian Pokemon chirped once, looking at her Trainer with a concerned look that matched your own. You hummed, thinking about it. “Well… I always remember them being very grateful when you made them dinner.”

Volo laughed, the sound a little bitter as it left his lips. “That’s it?”

“I can’t remember right now, I’m sorry,” you replied, suddenly feeling quite sheepish. 

“No, no, it’s alright…” Volo sighed, looking back at you. “I was just curious to know…how they felt about me.”

There was something nervous in his eyes, something desperate. You recognized it from his expression at the temple, when he shouted questions into the silent heavens. This expression wasn’t nearly as intense, but it carried the same undercurrent; Volo wanted to be seen. Recognized.

No, more than that. Volo wanted, desperately, to have someone care about him.

You sat up, looking at Togekiss. “Well, let’s ask, then,” you said simply, drawing Volo’s attention. “Togekiss, how do you feel about Volo?”

Almost immediately, Togekiss launched into an animated spiel about her Trainer, almost too quickly for you to keep up. You were able to catch most things, though; she talked at length about how well Volo cared for her and her teammates, how passionate he was about everything he did, how he spoke, how he walked, everything. Volo gazed at her with wide eyes, darting back to you for interpretation every so often. You did your best to translate everything she said, trying to catch sentence fragments and missed words as much as you could.

Finally, Togekiss tired herself out, and you and she both let out an exhausted sigh. Volo simply stared between the two of you, not saying anything for a long while. Then, finally, he looked at Togekiss with wide, watery eyes.

“You…really think all that?”

Togekiss’s firm nod needed no translation; she nuzzled up against her Trainer with a soft coo. Volo held his Pokemon tightly, and you saw a few tears glistening in the early evening light. You watched the scene with a smile on your face, a warm feeling blossoming in your heart. To use your ability for good like that… It felt fulfilling. Inspiring. Like it was more of a blessing than a curse.

Volo turned back to you, his eyes still glistening with a few unshed tears. “Thank you… I’d been doubting how my Pokemon felt about me recently. I wasn’t sure they actually liked me, or if they wanted to be my allies…” He smiled at Togekiss again, who chirped happily. “Now I know, though.”

You nodded. “I’m happy to help. Besides, seeing you smile like that makes it worth it.”

Volo’s face flushed, and he glanced to the side. “Oh, surely you don’t think that…”

You shook your head. “I’m serious.” And you were; you hadn’t thought about it for a bit, but you’d only ever seen a real, genuine smile from Volo once or twice. Almost everything prior to the temple had been behind a mask, a façade designed to keep you guessing. But this…this was real.

You didn’t think you’d ever tire of it.

Volo gazed up at the sky, one of those rare genuine smiles gracing his lips. The sun had just about set, and the sky seemed to glow with soft purples and blues. “It’s getting late,” he mused. “I should be heading back… And they’ll probably be wondering where you are, too.” 

You nodded, going to stand up before offering a hand. He took it, his grasp firm and his smile one of renewed confidence. You smiled right back at him. “Same time tomorrow?”

Volo nodded firmly, and Togekiss chirped happily.

“Same time tomorrow.”

[lucky-clover-gazette]

Arceus, I Wish That Were Me

(Part 2 of The Outsider, 3390 words)

Volo is touch-starved. The outsider doesn't know how to accept praise. They figure it out.

Read on Ao3 or under the cut:

The first time he noticed, they were in the midst of battle.

“Good girl, Togekiss!” Volo praised, as his partner Pokémon landed a critical hit on the outsider’s espeon. Seconds passed, and Volo tried to guess which of her team she would send out next. But the Pokémon—he’d anticipated her umbreon, she was training the pair together—never came.

At first Volo assumed her inaction was due to annoyance, specifically with the fainted state of her espeon. But that reaction, from the outsider, made no sense. She’d sent the Pokémon out herself, fully understanding the might of Volo’s team.

No, something else had frozen the outsider in place. It only took a cursory glance for Volo to make an educated guess.

“Something bothering you?” he asked, unable to hide his amusement.

The outsider placed a hand over her own cheek. Scowled at the warmth she must have found there. Muttered something under her breath.

“Come again?” Volo teased, because he simply could not help himself.

“Shut up,” she said, and sent out her umbreon.

─────────────────

The first time she failed to notice, the temperature was far too warm.

“I’m glad you have this stuff here,” the outsider told Volo, as she spread the protective salve over her bare skin. She was showing much more of it than usual, thanks to an atypical heat wave for the time of year. Volo had grown accustomed to seeing her in her typical attire—black pants, Survey Corps sandals, and a red plaid kimono she occasionally called her ‘flannel’—but could vaguely remember the alternate clothing she wore in the warm weather. Perhaps it was because of their recently-admitted mutual attraction that he now viewed her in a different light.

The clothing was, of course, far from scandalous. Cropped black pants, black sandals, and a white festival top. The ensemble revealed her legs and forearms, and slightly more of her collarbone than usual. It would have been absurd for him to feel any sort of way about it, besides appreciation for the comfort it brought her in the heat.

“You can use it when I’m done,” the outsider told Volo, nodding towards his own exposed skin.

He was technically breaking Ginkgo code, with the slight adjustments he’d made to his uniform. Nothing irreversible, of course—he’d simply removed his apron, unbuttoned the top half of his heavy jumpsuit, and tied its arms around his waist. Beneath it he wore a simple white undershirt, which exposed his arms and shoulders to the midday sun.

For a moment he had considered forgoing his uniform and donning his self-made deific attire instead, which would have allowed for much more comfort in the heat. But that would have created many more problems than solutions.

Also, he was having second thoughts about the green pants.

Volo found himself transfixed by the outsider as she spread the salve onto her arms, then leaned down to do the same to her legs. She reached all the way to her bare ankles, running over the various small scars she’d acquired during her time in the field. Then she returned to full height, lifted up her long hair, and began to rub the solution onto her neck and exposed chest.

Volo felt his fingers twitch. Despite their occasional romantic dalliances, the outsider still had an odd way about her when it came to casual touch. And for his part, Volo was determined to ensure that she was comfortable. It was the least he could do, truly, after a year of taking advantage of her trust.

He watched her complete the application in silence, biting the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.

Seconds or hours later, the outsider finished spreading the salve. “You should use it too,” she told Volo, corking the bottle. She barely even looked at him as she tossed it in his direction. “Let me know if you need help with your back.”

Volo caught the bottle like his life depended on it.

He got to work immediately, spreading the salve on the skin he easily could reach. But the back of his neck and shoulders were so very far away, and she had offered—

“Care to assist?” Volo asked, in a voice that suggested he would rather burn than beg.

“That’s what I said,” the outsider told him, reclaiming the bottle. After a pause, she added: “Now, come.”

Volo felt as if he’d been hit by a truck, something he knew would not be invented for at least fifteen years.

“You’re too tall,” the outsider clarified. “I can’t reach.”

“Oh.” Volo leaned down.

She was quick and clinical in her application, spreading the cool salve over his shoulders and the exposed part of his back. He felt her fingers pause, though, when she reached the edge of his shirt.

“The fabric is pretty thin,” she informed him. “Want me to get under there?”

Arceus, yes.

“If you are so inclined.”

The outsider obliged. The feeling of her hand beneath his shirt sent a chill down Volo’s back.

It ended as quickly as it began.

“There,” the outsider said, tucking the bottle into her satchel. “That should keep us cool.”

Respectfully, Volo disagreed.

─────────────────

The second time he noticed, he was simply doing his job.

“Ah, but you see,” Volo told Arezu, “an accomplished stylist such as yourself should use only the finest of materials!”

The red-haired woman raised an eyebrow, unamused. “My materials are fine.”

“But they could be finer!” he said, wagging his finger. “You must browse my wares—”

“Volo?” asked the outsider, bewildered as she entered Jubilife Village’s very necessary and period-appropriate hair salon. “What are you doing here?”

“You know this guy?” asked Arezu, peering beyond Volo’s tall frame.

“I am naught but a traveling merchant,” he said, waving the outsider away. He needed this sale to meet his quota for the month, having spent the majority of time surveying the wilds of Hisui in her company. “And Arezu here is my very favorite customer!”

“I’ve never bought anything from you in my life.”

“You truly are skilled with your craft,” Volo complimented the stylist, his eyes drilling into hers. “In fact, I think I would trust you to style my own hair. And that’s saying something!”

Arezu eyed him thoughtfully. “It does have a rather unique color. Shame that the Ginkgo Guild hides it beneath such hideous headgear.”

The outsider scoffed again, behind him. I like your hair, she’d told him at the Temple of Sinnoh. It had sounded so difficult for her to utter praise. In his particular line of work, Volo could not relate.

“For you, my friend, I would happily oblige.” He removed his hat and pulled his hair from its usual bun, allowing the golden strands to fall over his shoulders. “I will admit, I take much pride in my appearance. But with a masterful stylist such as yourself, I am certain I would be in good hands.”

Arezu used the aforementioned hands to hold a section of his hair. “Interesting texture,” she hummed. “I would not recommend using gel or bleach.”

Not his desired response, but useful all the same. Volo wondered if he could sell her the gel and bleach he’d intended for his deific transformation, prior to his decision to delay the inevitable.

The outsider had fully entered the room at this point, having stalked over to stand beside Arezu. Volo suppressed a laugh at her sour expression.

“Excuse me for delaying your appointment,” he told her, “but I must insist that your stylist examine my wares.”

The outsider crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe you should examine hers,” she challenged, nodding towards a shelf by the styling chair. “Since you seem so keen.”

Volo hummed, shrugging his hair out of Arezu’s grasp. “What was your name again?” he asked the outsider.

Her scowl deepened. She answered the question.

“That’s right,” Volo smiled, repeating it aloud. “And are you a customer here?”

“Obviously.”

The outsider’s eyes widened slightly as he stepped closer, towering over her and making no effort to minimize himself.

“Beautiful,” Volo praised, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He matched her gaze before abruptly tearing himself away, glancing lazily over at Arezu. “Your workmanship deserves a caliber of supplies to match.”

The outsider cleared her throat.

“Wouldn’t you agree?” Volo asked, using her name again.

Her cheeks burned as she admitted, “He has a point.”

“That’s a smart girl.”

Arezu sighed and motioned towards Volo’s backpack. “Come on, then. Show me your wares.”

“Excellent!” Volo exclaimed, replacing his Ginkgo cap. “Firstly, I would recommend the King’s Leaf…”

He could sense the outsider’s continued presence by his side. While Volo had once studied the woman as an opponent, he now found himself cataloguing her responses and instincts for distinctly different reasons. His very favorite customer, it seemed, took rather well to praise.

She had hidden her reactions well enough during their initial time together, in the midst of Volo’s deceptions. Or perhaps he simply had been too fixated on loathing her to notice. Regardless, Volo was very aware of her inclinations now.

“How delightful,” Volo told Arezu as he made the sale. Then, on his way to the door, he allowed himself a passing glance at the outsider. She was redder than he’d ever seen her before, seemingly stunned into silence by his words.

How delightful, indeed.

─────────────────

The second time she failed to notice, they were trying to relax.

It had been a long day of documenting Pokémon in the Crimson Mirelands, and they’d set up camp just as the sun set. Now, enveloped in the starry void of Hisui’s night sky, Volo and the outsider sat across from each other in contented silence. A campfire crackled between them, releasing its pleasant and familiar scent into the air.

Her alpha bibarel, Crinkle Cut, was also present.

The thing was massive, and Volo knew that the outsider adored it. It was soft and dumb, its tiny pupils betraying no thoughts inside of its absurdly large head. And while the bibarel held up well enough in battle, thanks to the outsider’s inexplicable dedication to its training, it was far from a Legendary Pokémon.

At times like this, Volo liked to remind himself of the creature’s inferiority.

The outsider hummed as she rested her full weight against the plush abomination, scratching indulgently beneath its chin. Rising flames and smoke obscured Volo’s view of them both, cutting him off entirely from the disturbing display. He shifted slightly on the tree stump where he sat. His arms had been crossed for the past ten minutes.

The outsider bonked her forehead against the bibarel’s empty skull.

(Volo imagined the way she would rest her head against his, after sharing a tender kiss.)

She cooed and ran a hand through its fur.

(Volo felt the ghosts of her fingers carding through his hair.)

She allowed the bibarel to engulf her in its stubby arms, Miss ‘Sorry I’m Kind of Weird About Hugs, They Startle Me Most of the Time,’ and had the audacity to smile.

Arceus, I wish that were me, Volo thought, as the smoke continued to rise.

─────────────────

The third time, he knew exactly what he was doing.

“It is very admirable,” Volo told the outsider, “that you dedicate yourself so thoroughly to your research.”

It was evening in Jubilife Village, and the pair had quietly retired to the outsider’s Galaxy Team-issued dorm. It was one of the few places where they could truly be alone, and Volo had grown to take comfort in the small but lived-in space. He’d even freed his partner Pokémon, who currently napped in a nest of blankets with the outsider’s matching togekiss.

“I have to work hard,” the outsider replied. “They’ll kick me out if I don’t.”

Volo shook his head with a smile. “That is only half the truth, as you are well aware.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s the other half?”

His lips curled into a grin. This was the opportunity he’d been waiting for, ever since observing the outsider’s inclinations in the hair salon. He knew it was a risk—but if there was a place to try, it would be here. This environment put her at ease, and gave them both the privacy to let down their defenses. It was ironic, how the very same manner of thinking Volo had once used to manipulate the hero was equally effective in genuinely ensuring her comfort.

If she took offense, he would stop. It was as simple as that.

“You love what you do,” Volo told the outsider, placing a firm hand on her slumped shoulder. “It amazes me to watch you work.”

The outsider’s eyes did not wander from the Pokédex. “It does,” she said—a statement, not a question.

Volo hummed indulgently. “Of course it does. You are doing so very well, such a good—”

“You don’t have to do the whole praise thing with me,” the outsider snapped. “I know you only say those things to people you’re trying to use.”

“I—what?”

“Don’t play dumb,” she told him, now meeting his eyes. “You do it with customers all the time. And you did the same to me, before I knew what you really wanted. But we understand each other now, and there’s nothing of value that I can give you, so there’s no reason for you to lie.”

Volo accepted that this was not going to be the playful interaction he had intended. “I told the truth when I sung your praises, even if my intentions were impure.”

“What about Arezu? And all of your other very favorite customers?”

“I care for their coin. Simple as that.”

The outsider fidgeted with her brush. Volo frowned.

“I will admit that my earliest interactions with you were predicated on jealousy and resentment. At that point, I thought you were my enemy, and I treated you as such.” The outsider held her breath as he gently removed the brush from her hand. “But the things I said were still very true. You are a brave, competent, and unique individual, and despite my resentment I looked forward to the time we spent together.”

“Sure,” said the outsider, unconvinced.

“Do you really not believe that you deserve to be praised?”

She was normally so talkative, even when she was upset. But something seemed to be stopping her now, causing her to shut her eyes and lean back against her trunk of many items.

“I don’t remember much about my life before the rift,” the outsider slowly said. “But sometimes, there are still… instincts. It’s like emotional muscle memory, warning me when I get too close to past experiences.”

“I’m sorry,” said Volo, because he was.

“Don’t be. From what I can remember, a lot of my past experiences sucked.” The outsider opened her eyes and met his directly. “I don’t think you were the first person to manipulate me using positive reinforcement.”

She said it so clinically, as if she were a subject in the professor’s lab. As if her very human existence was nothing more than a twisted social experiment.

“I don’t know what happened before you arrived in Hisui,” Volo said. “But we both know what I’ve done to you, myself.”

The outsider nodded. He took it as a sign to continue.

“It sounds as if the people from your past did not consider themselves your enemies, but your allies. They were supposed to treat you well—just as well as you undoubtedly treated them.”

The outsider shook her head. “You don’t have to say that. I was probably just as bad as they were.”

“Even if that were true,” Volo said with a small smile, “I imagine that you would have made for an exceptionally thoughtful and caring bad person.”

Volo’s Togekiss pulled hers closer, allowing it to nestle underneath her downy wing.

“For the record,” sighed the outsider, “I don’t think you’re the same as people from my past.”

“Thank y—”

“But I still don’t trust you, Volo. And I don’t want to be made a fool again.”

It was true, that Volo was not entirely being honest. He still possessed the eighteenth plate, tucked into a hidden compartment of his traveling pack. He still wished to recreate this world alongside Arceus’s chosen hero, the likely outcome of their combined efforts to complete the Pokédex.

Volo did not expect his god to treat him well. Its repeated and unrepentant rejections had long since eliminated the possibility in his mind. He had no faith whatsoever that Arceus would choose to accept him, even after helping the outsider with her holy mission.

As a man destined to be a god, Volo strove to be better than the Almighty Arceus—but by no means did that imply he was good. Still, despite his many secrets, he was determined to honor the promise he’d made in the Temple of Sinnoh:

I wish to treat you well. That is the truth.

“What do you want from me, Volo?” the outsider asked.

The seventeen plates, he thought. Arceus’s subjugation. Assistance in creating a better world.

But those things had very little to do with the outsider herself. At least, not the parts that mattered here.

“That,” Volo said, pointing at their Pokémon. “I want that.”

The outsider tilted her head at the pair. “You mean Frittata? You already have Togekiss, and you love her more than anything.”

Volo held his palm to his forehead. “No, I don’t want your—what I mean is, I would like to do that. With you.” He felt his cheeks grow warm. Damn it.

The outsider turned back to him, her expression entirely earnest. “Volo, are you touch-starved?”

“It is often difficult to determine your interest.”

She furrowed her brow. “You know I think you’re attractive.”

“Latently, perhaps. But I wish to take only what is enthusiastically given.”

The outsider sighed and took Volo’s hands into her own.

“It’s new for me,” she told him, “being wanted.”

“I find that very hard to believe,” Volo said.

“Okay, fine: it’s new being wanted by a person I actually want back.”

“Then I suppose that makes two of us.”

Her frown deepened. “But I haven’t made you feel very wanted at all.”

“In many ways you have,” Volo reassured her. “But I will admit to a particular… starvation.”

She studied him carefully. “I think I might have an idea that would satisfy us both.”

“I’m listening.”

“If you want to touch me, or you want me to touch you... don’t wait for me to notice.” She rubbed her thumb against the side of his hand. “I have the desire, really, but it’s also hard to let myself feel it. That’s why, at least for now, I think it would be good if you just asked.”

Volo considered.

“I know it’s a weird request,” the outsider said. “But I think it would help me a lot, actually, to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

She gave him a sad smile. “That you want me.” More quietly, she added: “That I’m good.”

Volo swallowed.

“Can I trust you to do that, and mean it?”

His response came in the form of a kiss. Volo hummed softly as he pressed his lips to the outsider’s hand.

“You can trust me,” he said between gentle pecks, “when I say that you are good.” He continued to kiss her wrist, her palm, and—fuck it.

He took the outsider’s pointer finger into his mouth. Sucked once, and then released.

The outsider inhaled sharply.

“There are many ways I can prove,” Volo said, “how desperately I want you.”

He allowed the outsider a moment to recover.

“I see,” she eventually replied. “Are there ways I could return the favor?”

Volo shrugged. “I’m sure I could think of a few.”

“And for how long have you been thinking, Volo?”

He straightened his posture, pausing their banter so he could thoughtfully respond. “Consciously, I’m not sure I could say.”

She raised an eyebrow. “But subconsciously?”

“Since the very first day I met you, of course. The beautiful and indomitable hero, sent to me by the Almighty Creator itself. My enemy, my friend, and now…”

“Yours,” the outsider agreed, entirely earnest.

“That’s right,” Volo said. “My very favorite customer.”

She rolled her eyes, grabbed him by the hair, and stole the words right from his mouth.