arctophyllax - Tumblr blog

arctophyllax · 2 months

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RuganxFemReader NSFW18+

Summary: One shot of Rugan and a AFAB/Fem Reader. Explicit. Indulgent. A bit rough, some use of restraint, leashing, denial, all the classics. Oral Sex. PIV. This NPC takes up a lot of my brain space, his voice is chef's kiss. This is self-indulgent. Enjoy. Minors DNI

“By the gods, you’re a sweet sight,” the man pushes the stray hairs back, tying them neatly back into the knot at the back of his head. “Are any of my crew still alive out there?”

“It’s a grim sight,” you say, though despite the nail-biting battle you feel yourself stir with the familiar pang of desire.

“This whole journey has been one grim sight after another… gnoll’s, goblins, drow. You, though… aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” You feel heat lick up your neck and his eyes glint with tell-tale hunger. “Risen Road’s more dangerous than ever. You’re the first friendly face we’ve seen since Elturgard.”

“Elturgaurd’s a long way from here. Where are you heading?”

“Baldur’s Gate. Got some cargo to deliver but we’ve a stop to make along the way. Listen, you look like you know how to handle yourselves.. we have our drinking spot by the tavern. Invitation only. The name’s Rugan… Tell the fellow on the door ‘little serpent, long shadow,’ and come find me. I owe you a drink,” the man grins at you, brushing off his bottom lip. “Lots of drinks.”

You know from the moment the words slipped from his lips that his desire mirrors yours. After a few weeks on the road with this strange group of vagabonds, the man before you seems irresistible. A fresh face amidst the chaos.

Rugan - you roll the name over your tongue, loving the way it feels. Your body trembles and the chemistry crackles beneath your skin. Your eyes dart to your companions, nervous they can pick up on your appetites and all seem none the wiser. Your eyes flick to Rugan who is gazing at you hungrily, a man needing to be sated and to engorge himself. You wonder if he’s been on the road as long as you have.

Your companions begin the trek back to camp and you tell them to go ahead, that you’d catch up with them. You wouldn’t.

“You owe me more than a few drinks.”

The man’s lips curl into a crooked grin and he chuckles, “I knew I had a feeling about you,” Rugan says, his back turned to you as he kneels over the delivery. He stands, brushing off his armor and stares at you with an almost imperceptible smirk. “Find me later and we can settle our… needs.”

****

You sneak away, the night sounds and smells filling you with increased excitement as blood pounds in your hearts and your heart beats wildly in your chest. The anticipation of what’s to come almost too profound.

As you creep closer, you see Rugan is leaning against a shed, the curve of his features illuminated by the dim moon. Your breath hitches as his gaze turns to meet you. He gives you a fiendish grin, and waits for you to approach.

“Where does someone like you come from, anyway?” You note the flush of his cheeks, the slow drawl that wraps you in honey. You swallow, hard and feel the heat blossom in your core.

A voice more confident than how you feel answers: “Does it matter?”

His low laugh in response sends a tremor down your spine and goosebumps across your skin. “No.” He steps towards you and fingers the amulet around your neck. You inhale and your eyes flutter as you take in his scent. Fire, sweat, fresh mud. “Before I make further assumptions, why don’t you go ahead and tell me why you sent away your friends?”

“Oh,” you say, clicking your tongue, “if it isn’t clear enough I think our business might be concluded.”

He chuckles darkly and brings his hand to your cheek to push your hair back. “You don’t seem the delicate type,” he waits a moment, waiting for any indication for him to continue.

Your lips part as your mouth begins to water. Your knees quake and every fiber of your being trembles with delight. “I’m not.” He takes a fistful of your hair and pulls, though barely. You feel yourself stir to life, the arousal coursing through you, drowning you. You feel yourself soak, the throbbing between your thighs intensifies as you imagine him forcing himself into you, digging your nails into his back as you cling to him with animalistic desperation. You need him, you want to sit on his face and ride his precious tongue until he makes you scream with unholy ecstasy as he grips your thighs, holding you to him to make you come again and again.

While gripping your hair he pulls himself against you and you feel his erection pulse against your thigh. It makes you whimper, the stiffness and girth evident even beneath the trousers. He pushes you up against the cool wood, one arm resting above you while the other holds your head and he brings his lips to yours almost violently. He pushes his tongue into your mouth and you moan, feeling yourself slip down the wall, loosing your footing. You feel him smirk against your lips as his hand grips your throat, apply a firm yet light pressure. “So eager…” he laughs, biting your lower lip and pulling it back and you press your legs together, feeling the saturation of arousal. He presses himself against you to spread your legs and you feel his girth, wanting to taste him, wanting to satisfy him.

Rugan seems to sense your desperation and begins to undo your clothes, and slips a hand down the front of your pants where he’s greeted with the soaking cloth that sits between his large, capable fingers and your pulsing clit. Rugan pulls out his hand and licks his fingers, groaning before kissing you lecherously.

He pulls the pants off your body, ripping them at the seams and leans down to kiss the band where your briefs meet your skin as he firmly circles your clothed sex. The sensation is unbearable and your legs shake as he falls to his knees and looks up at you, taking your undergarment with his teeth and dragging them off your body. He bunches your dripping underwear and puts it in his pocket, murmuring, “a souvenir,” as he pushes your legs apart and bites your inner thigh. You yelp and he laughs blackly.

You watch as he lies back on the grass. “Get down here.” You obey as he gestures, and as you go to lay beside him he shakes his head, “no,” he says, lifting you easily so you kneel, your thighs hovering over his mouth. “Here.”

Your brows shoot up and he pulls you down aggressively and you immediately feel his hot, warm tongue flicking and massaging your delicate folds, circling and sucking before slipping into you. You whimper and cry out, your hips beginning to buck against his face and he grunts, slipping his tongue into you and swirling it around, tasting the deepest crevices of your arousal. You cry out his name and he holds you against his face despite your body attempting to move. The wet noises he’s making only arouse you further and he encourages how your hips circle his lips and ready tongue. His fingers find their way inside you, mingling with his mouth and you gasp, gripping his hair and yanking. A nibble and salacious bliss. You yelp again and your body trembles uncontrollably, and he lifts you for a moment, inhaling and you see the sticky fluid of your desire clear on his stubble. “Beg for it.” He demands, his low husky voice serious and his eyes blown black.

You, dizzy from his mouth, struggle to comprehend. “Wh-what?”

A slow, wolffish grin spreads across Rugan’s face and he pushes you back, off of him so you roll back onto the grass. You look at him like a deer, frozen, and he leans over you, gripping your neck and pushes you back. “It seems you’re having a hard time hearing. I said beg.”

“Please..” you begin and he shakes his head, applying more pressure.

“Try again.”

You frown and lick your lips and pull his hand from your neck, catching him by surprise and you push him backwards and climb back over him. He smirks as you hold his head in place between your thighs, pushing them together and you see his eyes flutter and his lips part. “Finish what you started.”

His eyes widen and he groans, gladly bringing you down onto his face hard, eating you out like a famished street urchin. You buck against his chin as his hot tongue massages you, flicking against your throbbing bud and sleeping deeper inside, the stubble against your thighs driving you wild, and you feel yourself grow closer to the edge, moments away and he pushes his tongue and fingers so far into you you see stars. He holds you by your waist as you shudder against his mouth, him groaning as he tastes you and you cry out like a penitent seeking forgiveness. Pleasure roils through you like hot lava, your body shuddering as you tumble off the precipice of unadulterated pleasure. Rugan laps the essence of your climax, greedily indulging on you.

He comes up for air, grinning and kisses the inside of your thigh, his face flushed as you fall to the ground beside him. Your breath is jagged and he hovers over you, bringing his lips to yours so you taste yourself. Your lips part and you whimper, your hips subconsciously lifting to him. You fumble with his trousers and he slips out of them, the stiff erection grazing the folds between your thighs and you feel yourself soak with desire again.

He rolls his tongue with yours before taking you by the waist and flipping you so you lay face down on the ground. The sudden movement makes you yelp and you feel his strong fingers grip your waist and pull you back to him. You feel the head of his erection swirl around your opening and you mewl frantic, rocking backwards and wanting to take him fully. He denies you and pulls your hair to tilt your head back to him as he brushes his lips against your ear.

He thrusts into you with a painful slowness, his girth stretching you fully and you whimper, taking a fistful of grass as the pleasure overwhelms you. Rugan’s grunt of passion makes you feral and you roll your hips back, bringing him so deep that he releases a guttural grunt and his body begins to move urgently with yours in carnal lust. Gripping your hips roughly, he pounds deep into you, pressing against the depths of you and you cry out as you feel him push roughly against you. You know it will bruise and you relish in it. Where his fingers grip you the pressure is too strong, and yet you hunger for more and push yourself back against him. He pulls your hair harder and pulls the belt off his discarded pants. He wraps it around your neck and pulls lightly on the leash. The pressure against your neck combined with his aggressive thrusts make you writhe with heat, growing closer to release again. You entire body is tense and he squeezes your ass so hard you yelp, earning you a harder thrust and you grip the ground for purchase.

As he tugs at the belt around your neck, he kisses where your ear meets your throat and you whimper, hearing his wanton voice, “scream for me,” he commands and you do, crying out his name as you both move with a lustful urgency, your bodies slick with sweat and arousal until he is forcing himself so rough and deep into you that you shudder, sick with pleasure, and hear him groan as his sticky climax shoots into you, the warmth filling you and making you salivate. He tilts your head to kiss you from behind as he finishes, the throbbing of his twitching cock inside you sending you tumbling over the cliff of pleasure.

He rolls beside you and you both lie back, panting, staring at the sky. It takes a moment for you to return to yourself and he looks at you, his eyes still gleaming with desire. You smirk, “Surely that’s not the best you can do.” The taunt ignites something further in him and you surrender as you feel his hot mouth on yours again, eager to be sated. You will be exhausted tomorrow and it will have been worth it.

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arctophyllax · 2 months

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No Escape

Haarlep x f!Tav/Reader

Mephistopheles x Haarlep/f!Tav/Reader

⋆˙⟡♡ 18+ Dark Content

⋆˙⟡♡ Summary: Haarlep is once again captured and under the control of the archdevil Mephistopheles. The devil mocks Haarlep's previous attempt to flee to live freely, suggesting a more twisted form of punishment this time… One that even you could feel.

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: I’ve been working on this for the past couple days now. Enjoy xoxo

4k words & Based off my thoughts on Haarlep’s background

The dank alleyway was silent save for the skittering of rats and the distant echo of merriment from the nearby taverns. Haarlep moved like a shadow, their footsteps muted, their breath a quiet whisper against the chill of the night. They were seeking you, for they had grown bored waiting for you to return to them.

Before they could sense the ambush, their instincts screamed a warning. Shadows shifted, and figures emerged from the dark. Before Haarlep could react, strong hands grabbed them, and a sharp pain shot through their wrists. Looking down, Haarlep saw the glint of enchanted metal magical cuffs, designed to suppress their powers. They could feel their heart race; it was rare for an incubus of their caliber to be caught off guard by a mere human.

Haarlep swished their tail, a last attempt at defense, but it was like thrashing against the winds of a storm. The incubus’s assailants were prepared, unfazed by the creatures feeble efforts. Haarlep's eyes flashed with irritation, yet they knew better than to let fear take hold. Instead, they summoned the smooth, confident demeanor that was their trademark.

“If you wanted to get rough with me, a simple whisper in my ear would have sufficed-,” they began, their voice low and teasing, but the sentence was abruptly cut short. A calloused hand clamped over their lips, the stench of sulfur and filth assaulting their senses. Sulfur?

“Quiet, you revolting creature! Your kind don’t belong here, preying on our women and men, especially the hero of this city! We’ve seen ya hanging around her!” the ringleader hissed.

Haarlep's eyebrow arched. Preying on you? The very idea was laughable. It was true, they originally wanted to be your cruel master, but the tables had turned so delightfully. You were the one who had ensnared the incubus with your charms, your boldness captivating them in a way few mortals ever had. And though they’d never admit it aloud, they didn't mind this reversal of roles.

The thought was a spark of warmth against their growing concern. There was a dangerous edge to the situation,a tone of finality in their captor's voice that couldn't be ignored.

“Time to take you back where ya came from!”

The words struck a chord of genuine alarm. Haarlep's eyes widened as they realized the full extent of their intentions. The smell of sulfur, these humans being prepared, it wasn’t Grazzt who had summoned for them… Their original home, the Abyss. But rather Cania, the eighth hell, a frozen wasteland, a place of punishment and exile for their kind. It was the one place they dreaded above all after becoming “free”.

A snap shattered the stillness, and a portal yawned open, its glacial glow casting foreboding shadows. The gateway to their dread stood gaping, an icy maw ready to swallow Haarlep whole.

The air in the grand chamber was icy, a stark contrast to the spark that usually dances in Haarlep's eyes, now dulled by the grim realization of their predicament. Forced to their knees on the marble flooring, the relentless cold crept into their very marrow, a chilling reminder of the unforgiving nature of Hell's hierarchy.

Before them stood Mephistopheles, the archdevil of Cania, whose mere presence seemed to leech the warmth from the air, "Well, well, what do we have here?" Mephistopheles purred, his voice the embodiment of malevolence, "My lost little debaucher.”

Haarlep's silence was not by choice; the fabric gag in their mouth stifled any retort they might have conjured. Their glare met the eyes of Mephistopheles', as the devil's hand cupped their chin, forcing them to maintain eye contact.

"My lap has been quite cold without you here," Mephistopheles murmured, his thumb tracing the line of Haarlep's jaw with a feigned tenderness that belied the cruelty beneath. "Tell me, after my son's demise you came back here, did you not? Why only tease me and the others in my court if you were just going to run away and never come back for a visit?"

The cruel indentations of Mephistopheles' talons etching into Haarlep’s flesh forced a muffled grunt from Haarlep, the sole utterance they could manage against the gag. The searing mark was a relentless testament to the infernal dominion the archdevil held over them, a dominion Haarlep had once slipped from and now found themselves ensnared within again, tighter, more inescapable.

"Ah, but I should hardly chide you for your pitiful attempt to flee," Mephistopheles sneered with a sadistic curl of his lip, "It was my own amusement that saw you freed from my grasp, straight into the embrace of that lovely woman."

As Mephistopheles' hold constricted, a warning clear in the increasing pressure, Haarlep understood that the path to freedom would be far more treacherous this time. Their prior escape had been a mere twist of fate, a rare moment of chance they had exploited with your aid. Now, beneath Mephistopheles' relentless scrutiny, amidst the icy desolation of Cania, and with you absent in Faerun, the scales of fortune were grimly tipped against them...

"Perhaps I ought to exact a cruel reprisal for your transgression," Mephistopheles pondered, his claws delving deeper into Haarlep's flesh. "Yet, why waste such a delicious opportunity for my own entertainment?"

The acute slash of rending skin was an all too familiar for Haarlep, a scorching emblem of their profound powerlessness. Mephistopheles' voice was thick with malevolent satisfaction as he coaxed forth the blood, a scarlet symbol of Haarlep's forced submission.

"Did you really think I'd allow you to go play house with the little hero?" Mephistopheles taunted, his grin wide, "Though who could blame you, you're such a simple creature. She's such a pretty thing, and her lifestyle is quite easy now, the perfect prey for you."

Haarlep ached to retaliate, but as they gathered their thoughts the air thickened with magic, and a metal collar snapped viciously around their neck. A short chain attached to it materialized shortly after, a representation of Mephistopheles' dominance. The sudden yank brought Haarlep's face crashing against the devil's foot, the impact a brutal punctuation to his enchained existence.

"I wonder how her flesh feels, how her body trembles when experiencing the most wonderful of orgasms," Mephistopheles speculated with a vile sneer, pressing his foot against Haarlep's lacerated cheek, grinding their head into the cold marble, "You have tasted her form, yes? Of course you have, all you do is take whenever you find discover a shiny new toy.”

Haarlep’s mind raced, seeking a sliver of opportunity, but the cuffs held firm, cutting into their skin even as their muscles strained against them. The bulging veins in their arms were a testament to their futile attempts, a visual chorus to the anger boiling within. Mephistopheles had always been a master of manipulation, playing with his subjects like a puppeteer with marionettes.

Incubi were creatures of persuasion and deception, and Haarlep had been among the best. It would take all of their cunning, all of their guile, but they were not devoid of options.

The command though that slithered from Mephistopheles' lips resonated like a death knell through the grand, sinister hall, a decree that stripped away the last remnants of Haarlep's autonomy. "Transform into her, my pet. Why should a mere incubus and my son be the only ones to savor such delights?" The devil's smile was a ghastly exhibition of his vile victory.

As Mephistopheles' claws sank into Haarlep's hair they were yanked from the ground. Haarlep's face was a canvas of conflict; rage and spite warred with a sadness so profound it bordered on mourning. The incubus longed for the past, a time when they were more than just a pawn in the infernal realm.

With a casual display of his infernal might, Mephistopheles transported himself and Haarlep back to the expansive, ebony throne that symbolized his ruling. There, he sat with an air of regal entitlement, his smirk a silent yet eloquent expression of mastery.

"We'll leave that makeshift gag around your mouth for now, her whimpers are all I need," Mephistopheles declared, a sadistic pleasure evident in his tone. His hand gently brushed Haarlep's cheek in a mock caress, a vile parody of tenderness. "Reveal the one who felled my wretched offspring, her form revealed in its entirety. I am eager to witness what will draw forth her screams.”

Was this the crux of it all, the reason Haarlep had fled with the assassin of the archdevil's son? How Haarlep had plotted Raphael’s downfall, seizing the chance when fate led you to cross paths...

As the cuffs that once bound Haarlep were removed, it was clear that their confinement was far from over. The true shackles were not of iron, but of the consequences that disobedience would entail.

Haarlep clung to the notion of causing the archdevil even a fraction of the agony the incubus had inflicted upon others, but they knew well that such a powerful being's soul was beyond their reach, beyond consumption.

Mephistopheles' patience frayed, and with a violent jerk of the chain, he forced Haarlep's gaze back to his own. "I don't have all day, incubus. If you don't do this I will force it upon you and then go claim your little play toy for myself."

In that moment of despair, Haarlep's resolve faltered as they grappled with the enormity of their situation. With an unusual heavy heart, they conceded to the will of the archdevil, understanding the grim cost of defiance.

A dance of black embers encircled Haarlep, a prelude to the dark magic that would transform them. The air crackled magic, the scent of brimstone a bitter fragrance heralding the change. And then, in a sudden conflagration, Haarlep's form shifted, the masculine lines of their body melting away to reveal the delicate, familiar contours of your own.

There you were, in all your likeness, a spectral mirage crafted from the incubus's flesh. It was a sight that would have filled any lover's heart with dread, even a chaotic demon such as themself. For in that moment, Haarlep was both present and absent, their own essence cloaked beneath the visage of the one they sought to keep to themself.

Mephistopheles leaned back on his throne, observing the transformation with a gleam in his eyes, a delight that only a creature of his malevolence could savor. Haarlep, now wearing your flesh, was a sight of haunting beauty.

"You do wear it well," Mephistopheles cooed, his voice dripping with a sickly sweetness. His fingers traced the air, as though he could manipulate the very soul of the illusion that Haarlep had become. "Now let us see if the performance is as convincing as the appearance."

Haarlep, despite being coerced into this vile charade, held onto a sliver of control. They would play the part.

Mephistopheles, gestured with an air of impatience, "Proceed," he commanded, "let us indulge in the fantasy that you are her. I want to savor the illusion before I partake in her."

Haarlep moved, each motion deliberate yet hollow, an echo of your grace, a puppet's dance with Mephistopheles holding the strings. They mimicked your mannerisms, wiggling your hips and tracing your stomach with your fingers.

The archdevil's laughter filled the chamber, a sound devoid of joy, empty and cold. "Yes, this will do," he mused, his gaze never leaving the figure before him.

Haarlep's performance continued.

“Come now, you can do better than this now.” The arch devils grin never ceasing, "I know this form quite intimately, dear Haarlep. I've watched her in the throes of ecstasy, seen the way she writhes and begs for release," Mephistopheles taunted, his lips broadening as he saw the pain written on the incubus's features. "And you… you've had the privilege of making her body sing with pleasure."

Their mind raced with thoughts of what would transpire when Mephistopheles’ has his way, the memories of times long past seared in Haarlep’s mind… How Mephistopheles would pass them around between the devils, a new plaything for them to use and abuse. Every thrust came a new beating, a new spiked whip… Even Demons have their breaking point...

Then the memories from just the other night come flooding into Haarlep’s mind, a night of ecstasy and tenderness, your soft wonton moans lingering in their ears still, the warmth of your skin, the sweet taste of your lips... The sound of your gentle breathing, the scent of your hair, and the comfort of your embrace... it all felt so far away now… The feeling of freedom…

In the beginning, your relationship with Haarlep was a mere play of games and lust, but as time spun its narrative, an unexpected bond had taken root. You bestowed upon them the gift of freedom, a gem of inestimable value for a creature shackled by the chains of servitude. Love, an enigma to beings such as Haarlep, had become the cornerstone of your existence together. Those nights enshrouded in their warm wings were not just moments of passion but sanctuary, a sacred space where you were not a master, prey, or a source of sustenance, but a cherished lover.

Yet those cherished moments would soon become tainted, marred by the touch of an imposter. Your body, the sanctuary you had entrusted to him, would now be defiled, sullied by the archdevil's depravity… And you would feel it all…

"Now then," Mephistopheles purred, rising from his throne. "Show me how she trembles."

…

The silence lingered, and then the first blow fell. A brutal backhand, a strike so hard it left the incubus reeling, staggering backwards and collapsing onto the floor, his face stinging from the impact- Your face stinging from the impact… Haarlep knows you felt that…

And you did, as you walked the market with Karlach you felt a sharp slap against your face, leaving you momentarily stunned as the pain flared up, forcing a pained whimper from your lips. Karlach had immediately stopped in her tracks, concern written across her face as she asked what happened, to which you gave a quick response, saying it was nothing. That Haarlep had probably irritated Astarion once again while in your form.

With Karlach pacified, you continued your walk, the ache in your cheek never fading. Yet you still couldn't shake the sensation that something was wrong, a cold dread settling in the pit of your stomach…

Your fears were confirmed when another wave of pain came crashing down, the feeling of a foot striking your gut as you doubled over, gasping for breath. Tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes, a lump forming in your throat as the full extent of the situation became clear.

The archdevil snarled, "Don't make me repeat myself," the fury in his eyes a warning of worse punishments to come.

Haarlep's fingers curled against the floor as they steadied themself, struggling to their knees, your knees. The aches of the blows still lingered, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the heartache Haarlep was facing… Was this how Graz'zt felt when Tasha had left the Abyss finally all those years ago?

Haarlep couldn't stop the peculiar wetness that was beginning to stream down their face… Tears? The incubus’s eyes widened, tears? Reaching up they touched the foreign liquid they’ve yet to ever experience… Looking down at their wet finger another tear cascaded down from their- your eyes…

A mocking laughter cut through the silence, the archdevil sneering in response to Haarlep's tears, "My, how sweet. The vulgar incubus cares for her. Perhaps I will go fetch for her, keep her alive and have her watch the fun," he taunted, relishing in the incubus’s misery. "Or, perhaps not. I can’t help but to wonder how she'll fare after she feels me ravage you in her image. If she’ll ever be able to touch you again.”

Haarlep knew that was coming, the words he dreaded to hear... How long will he be trapped in this prison of his own creation?

“She’ll discard you like the object you are and you’ll have no choice but to come back here, the Abyss surely won’t take you back after being in my care for so long.” Mephistopheles chuckled, the incubus would never escape his grasp…

Mephistopheles stepped closer, his eyes dark with lust, the heat radiating from his skin a palpable energy. He reached out, his touch almost gentle, his claws running over the curves of your body, over the fabric of the shirt, and the skin underneath. There was a gentleness in his touch, a strange tenderness, as his fingers traveled lower, slipping between your thighs…

Karlach held onto you while your body shivered as foreign hands traveled over your body. The sensation of your legs being spread…

“It’s the fucking incubus! I told you not to bring that thing back! You can’t trust those-“

“I-it’s n-not… Ah!!-“

With a sudden ferocity, Mephistopheles seized the front of Haarlep’s shirt, yanking them forward and slamming their back against the ground, ripping the shirt in the process.

A gasp escaped your lips as Haarlep hit the floor, the shock of the impact momentarily stunning you. Your back ached from the impact, leaving you breathless as you felt someone straddled your waist, their weight pressing down against your hips. You could feel whos ever arousal it was roll their hips against yours…

Karlach looked you over, “Champ??”

Your breathing quickened, “n-no… something’s not right… H-Haarlep, he’s using my body, b-but-“ A piercing scream erupted from you suddenly as you simultaneously grabbed your neck. It felt like someone had taken a chunk out of your flesh… And that was exactly what had happened.

Mephistopheles looked down at Haarlep, the incubus’s blood dripping from his jaws. It had been so quick, so effortless, the ease with which he'd ripped into your flesh was chilling, “Mortals are so fragile, aren’t they? I’m surprised you haven’t broken her yet yourself. I remember how rough you can get, dear Haarlep.”

The sharp pain was all that filled Haarlep’s mind as they felt the blood pooling around your body, the wound on their neck throbbing with agony… "Such a lovely thing she is all bloodied, wouldn't you agree?" Mephistopheles didn’t wish to waste anymore time, he needed to feel you, and wished to know what made you so special. He leaned down, his hand grabbing a hold of Haarlep’s ankle and pulling their limp body towards him, their blood smearing across the obsidian floor.

Your head was spinning, and you couldn't focus on anything but the pain and the fear. It was surreal, a waking nightmare, the agony, the feeling of violation and helplessness. Another blood curdling scream filled the air, your knees buckling causing you to collapse to the dirt ground. You felt something large enter your body, ripping you open with a violent force. The stretch was so painful, and you could feel something warm begin to trickle down your thighs, but it wasn’t your arousal, it was blood… But it wasn’t actually coming from you… It was coming from Haarlep, from them using your body…

Your nails dug into the dirt beneath you as you cried out, your whole body trembling, a single word escaping your lips, a plea, a prayer, a name, Haarlep!

Karlach stayed by your side, her arms wrapping around you tightly as she held you close, “the fuck is happening!?” You could only respond with a pitiful whimper as you felt a cold sweat breaking out over your entire body, the pain becoming unbearable. The sounds of your cries echoing throughout the city.

The archdevil thrusted into Haarlep relentlessly, each thrust bringing with it a new wave of pain and a fresh round of blood. Mephistopheles growled as he continued to ravage the incubus, his hands gripping their hips, your hips, hard enough to bruise. Haarlep's body jerked with every motion, his blood painting the archdevil's cock crimson as he tore through your delicate flesh, his claws digging into the incubus' skin as he held Haarlep in place. It was as if the archival was trying to fuck through Haarlep, “I never had such an exquisite mortal before,” Mephistopheles laughed as he looked down at the incubus, his voice tinged with delight, “she really is to die for.”

Mephistopheles leaned down to grab hold of one of your nipples, and twisted it. And with each brutal thrust he’d pull on the delicate little bud, hard enough to force Haarlep off the ground slightly.

Your screams had ceased, the shock of what was happening finally overtaking you, the pain had become too much, and everything was becoming blurry. You felt sick, nauseous, and dizzy. Your heart was beating so fast, and your vision was growing dimmer, “…c-can’t… p-please…” your eyelids began to flutter shut as the searing pain in your chest and cunt began to consume you… “H-Haarlep…” Before death's cousin had you surrender to it, an image of your beloved incubus flashed before your eyes…

Haarlep felt the tip of the archdevil's cock slamming into your cervix, each impact tearing more of the flesh surrounding their entrance, the blood now completely covering their thighs.

The pleasure the archdevil felt was intoxicating, the ecstasy of feeling the lifeblood flowing out of the incubus through your delicate flesh wrapped around him like a vise. He was reveling in the power he wielded over both Haarlep and you, to reduce such a stubborn and defiant creature as this incubus to a quivering mess of blood and tears.

Haarlep's eyes never once shut, instead it watched and felt your body get thrown around, your body, soaked in ”your” blood... The feeling was something Haarlep couldn't quite describe... your insides, just completely and utterly ruined…

Your body was limp in Karlach's arms as she watched over your unconscious form. Rage plastered on her face as she gently carried you back to your home, "Please, Gods…”

The night continued like this for what felt like hours, you’d awaken only for pain to wrack your body. Your body quaking, your throat destroyed from the constant screaming. Your knuckles were white from how tight you were clinging to Karlach, but the barbarian didn’t seem to mind, she remained with you, holding you, comforting you. Until finally you felt a torrent of stranger's cum fill Haarlep, fill your abused cunt. You felt so full and warm despite nothing actually being there… Your eyes barely open while drool spills from your mouth…

Haarlep wreathed beneath Mephistopheles, at the feeling of the archdevil releasing into your body. The stretch was almost unbearable, the heat of his release a searing agony as it burned through Haarlep, seeping into their very core…

As you clung to Karlach and sobbed, your breathing was but a faint rasp, as you said with the last remaining of your energy, "Wh-where’s Haar-Haarlep…”

Karlach laid you down so she could fetch a potion for you to drink, when suddenly a figure materialized before her on the floorboards. It was Haarlep in your form… Unmoving with their eyes closed.

The tiefling woman reached for her great axe but before she could dismember the creature her eyes caught sight of their battered body, their tear-streaked face and the wounds on their neck along with… She looked away as she was met with the mess below Haarlep’s waist… “Hells…” She said softly.

Karlach could only look back at you, her heart heavy with the realization of the truth. She moved towards the fallen incubus and carefully picked them up, the bloodied mess staining her clothing as she made her way back towards you. She placed them down beside you, their eyes slowly opening as their hand rested upon your cheek.

She couldn't help but notice the way Haarlep’s thumb gently rubbed against your skin, and the way they used up their last strength to shift back to their true form so they could envelop you with their wings. Karlach's heart was filled with anguish as she saw Haarlep curl themselves around you, their embrace protective, shielding you from the cruelty of the world...

But it was too late, for you had already experienced the full wrath of that cruelty, and the incubus feared that you would never be the same after such a cruel night…

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