restless-dragonhunter

[restless-dragonhunter]

"do you seriously think you're above the rules" the stupid ones yeah

[restless-dragonhunter]

@relentlessgrief

_____

Rheighar had never properly thought about death.

He had thought about it, sometimes. Raised to be a warrior through and through, death had been his companion ever since he had hatched. He viewed it as a possibility, an outcome that was likelier to happen to him than anybody else. But then he defeated powerful dragons and half-gods, and he felt like immortality was just within reach.

He was stripped of his powers, and made a simple cavalryman again; and then he met death. The end, he found out, was a mere reflex. A decision taken in a single, split second. Stark as lightning, and terrifyingly simple. What are your thoughts when you know you are going to die? Nothing much. He had no time to think. It was Ashen, or him. So it had to be him. And that was that.

All he could gather before the world went grey were a few shapes beyond the veil; his companion was alive. And he, Grand Sorcerer of the Lance Defenders of Djerad Thymar, patriarch Drraseth of Tymanther, officer of the Hellriders of Elturel - was no more.

The Fugue Plane laid stripped bare before him, infinite and incredibly bland. His magic had returned, but to what avail? Nothing required such mastery here. The servants of the old gods passed by him, looking for souls to bring back to their masters; they looked upon him, but left him alone, knowing already that he would refuse any god's blessing.

Because grief came in stages, and the first that came to him was anger, a draconic figure extending its wings in a fruitless rage. "Come on, so-called gods, you bastards. You call this mess down in Avernus a war? Asmodeus is at least doing a honest job by his own standards, but you let him rule the Hells. I'll take down the entire fucking Fugue Plane with me if I'm going down!"

[restless-dragonhunter]

[restless-dragonhunter]

top five men?

like in a row? or do i get breaks

[restless-dragonhunter]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑵𝑶𝑹𝑴𝑰𝑻𝒀 𝑶𝑭 𝑴𝒀 𝑫𝑬𝑺𝑰𝑹𝑬 .    (   a  series  of  nsfw  prompts ,  separated  by  quotes   &   acts .   ‘ my ’  muse  belongs  to  the  one  who  posted  the  meme .  send   “ + REVERSE ”   to  reverse  the  prompts  )

       →  WORDS .

❛  i’m  sorry ,  you  don’t  enjoy  being  teased ? .  ❜ ❛  you  know  what  i’m  waiting  for .  ❜ ❛  keep  your  hands  where  they  are .  ❜ ❛  i want you to ride  [ me / my fingers ] .  ❜ ❛  you  make  the  prettiest  sounds .  ❜ ❛  say  please .  ❜ ❛  i  want  to  make  this  last .  ❜ ❛  look  at  me .  ❜ ❛  i’m  yours ,  only  yours -  ❜ ❛  yeah ,  just like that -  ❜ ❛  i’ve  barely  even  started .  ❜ ❛  i  need  you .  ❜ ❛  god ,  shut  up  and  fuck  me  already !  ❜ ❛  god ,  yes ,  [ name ] ,  don’t  stop .  ❜ ❛  you  have  no  idea  how  long  i’ve  wanted  to  do  this .  ❜ ❛  who  gets  to  touch  you  like  this ?  ❜ ❛  come  for  me .  ❜ ❛  ah ,  ah -  don’t  touch .  ❜ ❛  brace  your  hands  on  the  wall .  ❜ ❛  could  you  come  like  this ?  ❜ ❛  please ,  let  me  come -  ❜ ❛  god ,  you’re  beautiful -  ❜ ❛  i’ve  been  waiting  for  this  all  night .  ❜ ❛  you’re  such  a  tease .  ❜ ❛  take  these  off .  ❜ ❛  i  want  to  feel  your  [ mouth / fingers ] .  ❜ ❛  do  you  have  any  idea  how  good  you  taste ?  ❜ ❛  tell  me  what  you  want .  ❜ ❛  we  shouldn’t -  ah ,  we shouldn’t be doing this .  ❜ ❛  faster ,  [ name ] ,  i  need  more .  ❜ ❛  is  this  good ?  ❜ ❛  keep  your  eyes  open .  ❜ ❛  i  can’t  wait  to  find  out  what  else  you  can  do .  ❜ ❛  you  don’t  have  to  be  so  gentle .  ❜ ❛  i  want  to  hear  you  beg .  ❜ ❛  can  i  take  this  off ?  ❜ ❛  please ,  please ,  please -  ❜ ❛  you’re  doing  so  well  for  me .  ❜ ❛  please  touch  me .  ❜ ❛  keep  reading ,  i  want  to  see  how  long  you  last .  ❜ ❛  i’ll  buy  you  another  one .  ❜ ❛  say  my  name .  louder .  ❜ ❛  i  can’t  wait  any  longer .  ❜ ❛  you  feel  so  good .  ❜ ❛  you’re  going  to  leave  a  mark -  ❜ ❛  touch  yourself  for  me .  ❜ ❛  do  you  deserve  it ?   ❜ ❛  did  i  say  you  could  come ?  ❜ ❛  i’m  so  close -  ❜ ❛  they’re  going  to  catch  us -  ❜ ❛  i  want  you  right  here .  ❜ ❛  we  have  to  be  quiet .  ❜

         →  ACTIONS .

❛  pin .   to  restrain  my  muse’s  hands  during  intimacy . ❛  mirror .   to  have  sex  with  my  muse  in  front  of  a  mirror . ❛  deny .   to  deny  my  muse  an  orgasm . ❛  distance .   to  have  [ phone / video ]  sex  with  my  muse . ❛  playlist .   to  have  sex  with  my  muse  while  music  is  playing . ❛  paw .   to  fondle  my  muse’s   [ chest  /  ass ] . ❛  wall .   to  pin  my  muse  against  a  wall . ❛  table .   to  hoist  my  muse  onto  a  [ table  /  counter ] . ❛  clothed .   to  make  my  muse  come  while  fully  dressed . ❛  finger .   to  finger  my  muse . ❛  oral .   to  give  my  muse  oral . ❛  fervent .   to  have  sex  with  my  muse  after  a  fight . ❛  distraction .   to  rile  my  muse  up  during  a  film . ❛  mark .   to  leave  marks  on  my  muse  [  optional :  specify where  ] . ❛  tie .   to  use  restraints  on  my  muse  during  intimacy . ❛  throat .   to  choke  my  muse  during  intimacy . ❛  sparring .   for  sparring  to  turn  into  sex . ❛  toys .   to  use  toys  [ vibrator / strap / otherwise ]  on  my  muse . ❛  imagery .   to  send  my  muse  a  risque  photo . ❛  drag .   to  pull  my  muse  closer  by  a  piece  of  clothing . ❛  tear .   to  tear  a  piece  of  clothing  from  my  muse’s  body . ❛  shower .   to  have  sex  with  my  muse  in  the  [ shower / bath ] . ❛  sneaky .   to  sneak  away  from  a  gathering  to  have  sex  with  my  muse . ❛  beg .   to  make  my  muse  beg . ❛  carnal .   to  [ scratch / bite ]  my  muse  during  intimacy . ❛  preoccupied .   to  rile  my  muse  up  as  they  [ read / work ] . ❛  jealous .   to  purposefully  make  my  muse  react  possessively . ❛  dare .   to  have  sex  with  my  muse  based  off  a  dare . ❛  read .   to  re-enact  something  from  a  [ book / show / porn ]  with  my  muse . ❛  collapse .   to  break  a  bed  during  sex  with  my  muse . ❛  caught .   to  get  caught  with  my  muse  during  sex .

[restless-dragonhunter]

The ivory-haired elf was a target of interest for Rheighar. By the way he was dressed, there was no doubt that he was from the Upper City of Baldur's Gate. But here, in the Lower City, the likes of him were very much uncommon. The plebs were too unwashed for the higher-ups, no doubt. Therefore, the dragonborn wondered what reason would bring him here. Not the fun, it looked like.

"Leave already? C'mon, you've done nothing interesting yet. We'll show you a night at the tavern. I'm a terrific throat singer if you buy me a drink. And if you can actually bear Draconic throat singing, that is," the dragonborn grinned with a face expression that revealed that the singing was best kept for moments they willed everyone else around them to run away.

It only took a mere seconds for Rheighar to drag the elf to their large table. They were all humans or tieflings; the dragonborn seemed to be the only one of his species. Their smiles were as easy and welcoming as Rheighar's, though, unlike him, their greetings bore the mark of prominent Elturian accents.

"This is my friend Jonathan, he'll join us for the night. I think we should teach him a Hellrider song or two. What's the type you like, Jonathan? Heroic tales of battles past or rowdy songs your mum would blush at?"

The last nights have been bountiful for he and his ‘siblings’—a little too bountiful, in fact. Orders were given to halt the harvest, assess the city’s mood instead; listen in for whispers, gossip, discover who’s saying what about whom.

So far, he’s torn down two missing persons signs, but nothing of terrible interest has reached his ears. Astarion only intends on doing the bare minimum, anyway; he knows Leon and Violet are out there overachieving enough to pick up any slack, and good. Let them duke it out for their precious favoured positions. Whatever. This is one of very few chances he’ll ever have to not give a fuck or try too hard, and he is taking it.

Visually, to the degree that he could control it, an attempt has been made at blending with the rest in the tavern—ivory ruffled shirt with the sleeves down, black venetians, his hand around a mug that he takes the occasional unpleasant sip from—but, mentally, he couldn’t be further removed from this crowd. All is colour, sound, metallic tang, weaved together into a ball of nebulous discomfort that sits right in the back of his throat and sometimes randomly dips all the way down into the pit of his stomach. When there’s motion to his side, further disturbance of his mind, Astarion’s instinct is to pull away, find elsewhere to place himself and quickly—that he may brood in peace.

When suddenly faced with a barrage of questions and comments clearly directed his way, he finds himself merely grappling with it, almost dazed. Angling his chin towards the fellow (an immense dragonborn, quite the sight), a faint smile blossoms upon Astarion’s lips. Instinct tells him to be smooth, exude charm. Trepidation tells him to resist. Tonight is not one of those nights. “What—?” This was at the ears remark but is quickly forgotten about. His gaze flickers over to where the energy has amassed; he realizes he was even less tuned into his surroundings than he would have thought. When had they filtered through? Not too long ago, none have their drinks yet.

And they’re already this loud…

“I was just about to take my leave, actually.” He clenches the tankard, manages to toss it back without gagging, and then is actually ready to go, but—what’s he to do, afterwards? Call it a night? Head back to the palace early? Not a chance. “… buuut, I think I will join you for a while.” He revolves where he sits to peer up into that funny, reptilian face for a moment. “If only to be the judge of exactly how much fun you truly are.” A snort, a grin, and he looks away. Remembers the name of one of his victims. “You may call me Jonathan.”

[restless-dragonhunter]

Rheighar, too, liked what he was seeing and hearing. He did not know what to expect out of Zariel's champion, out of all people. But now that he was taking a careful look, he found it quite fortunate that she had been pulled out of the Hells. She did not look, or act like she belonged there at all. She was much closer to him and his companions in nature than any devil in the archduchess' service.

"Nonetheless, I will take you to a proper Hellrider party one day," the dragonborn promised. "We might end up crawling on the ground with our bellies full of beer, but that's the best kind of party, right?"

He did not truly expect her to give him a chance at dating him, however. Marrying a stranger sucked, he was aware. And this, despite the fact this was what dragonborns essentially did - they married for reproduction, then parted ways once the hatchling had taken their first breath. But he had been estranged from Tymanther long enough to know of the customs of others, and especially tieflings, who were more than common among Hellriders.

Her final sentence pulled yet another laugh out of him, and he patted her shoulder - perhaps a little stronger than he had meant to, but she could certainly take it.

"What about it? You've got to air it out. It's healthy for you." He grinned, clawed fingers grasping her shoulder in a friendly gesture. "Right, Karlach. Tell me all about yourself. What you enjoy doing, your favourite foods, your dreams, your hopes, and whether you like pets. Liking horses is required, by the way. You married a cavalryman, so it comes with the territory."

"Hey, you saw where I came from. This is the only party I've been to in years. I can deal with a few sticks up arses. Other, arses."

She remembered hatefully what the others had been like. A slew of political shindigs with piss-weak wines and dull conversations that comprised of the same "juicy gossip" about who was shagging who, and how everyone absolutely knew what a cad some bloke or other was.

His laughter was nice. It was honest and it was light, and she didn't know if the wine was what made her gaze linger, or his easygoing nature. A part of her understood that, for the first time in a long time, she was going to be okay. Not in the pacify the sad part of her that lamented the years she had lost sort of way, but in in a way that was infinitely more comfortable.

Karlach was quick to mirror her laughter. "I suppose when a devil feels as though she has everything to lose, they will offer the one thing they once refused to give up. Tell you what, never expected to marry anyone, much less a perfect stranger."

Now that she looked at him, really, really looked at him. She found that she liked what she saw. Dragonborns were a surprisingly rare thing where she had fought in the hells, but he looked to be a fine on-

It was now that she looked surprised.

"I- Tell you what, how about we spend tonight learning about each other, first. Pretend it's a first date that doesn't involve all this... that doesn't involve this fucking outfit. I've a draft where no girl should have a draft."

[restless-dragonhunter]

Just had to post this little cutscene of Ashen kissing his dragonborn boyfriend.

They're so cute, I sure hope nothing bad happens to them, like one of them dying in the war on Elturel.

(Rheighar, the dragonborn, is available for roleplay at @restless-dragonhunter)

[restless-dragonhunter]

✖ SEXUAL PREFERENCES

BOLD - applies always / usually. Italic - applies less often / sometimes. Strike out - never applies / hard no. If no changes to text - possible but circumstantial.

✖ INCLINATIONS/HABITS:

is submissive | is dominant | prefers to top | prefers to bottom | likes to switch | identifies as heterosexual | identifies as homosexual | identifies as bisexual | identifies as pansexual | identifies as demisexual | identifies as asexual | enjoys sex with men | enjoys sex with women | enjoys sex with multiple people at one time | initiates | waits for partner to initiate | spits | swallows | prefers sex in the morning | prefers sex at night | prefers sex any time | no sex drive | low sex drive | average sex drive | high sex drive | hypersexual

✖ SOUNDS:

is silent/makes little to no sounds | is very quiet | is very loud | grows in volume over time | bites hand/partner/pillow to muffle themselves | calls out partner’s name | curses | fakes/exaggerates | prefers a quiet partner | prefers a loud partner | prefers a responsive partner | is turned on by dirty talk | is turned off by dirty talk

✖ TURN-ONS/KINKS:

having their hands pinned | pinning their partner’s hands | having their hair pulled | pulling their partner’s hair | being watched (by their partner) | being watched (by a third party) | watching their partner | receiving oral | giving oral | calling their partner ‘daddy’ | being called ‘daddy’ | giving praise | receiving praise | biting/marking | being bitten/marked | spanking | being spanked | teasing | being teased | having toys used on them | using toys on their partner | giving anal | receiving anal | choking | being choked | dirty talk | being tied up | tying their partner up | being worshipped | worshipping their partner | humiliating | being humiliated | degrading | being degraded | knife play | blood play | being pegged | pegging

[restless-dragonhunter]

The way the dragonborn watched her from his full height yet was so close to her made it seem as if he were quite literally sniffing the source of magic within her. He may have lost most of his powers, but the thread of magic within was not entirely ruptured, and it was hard to escape its vigilance.

"Your patron? Making a pact with evil beings is rarely a good sign," he groaned.

As his lips moved, they unveiled impressive rows of sharp little teeth, forked tongue shaping every sound against them with a pronounced Thymari accent.

"What would a seamstress sell their soul for?"

@restless-dragonhunter sent

꒰ The dragonborn towers over Babette; tall, imposing, big. He leans over, glowing blue eyes glancing down at such a frail creature, mercenary's armour reflecting the sunlight off its polished surface. "I would recognise magic anywhere. You aren't merely a seamstress, are you?" ꒱

       𝕃𝔼𝕋𝕋𝔼ℝ𝕊 .   unprompted interactions ────────────────────────

      𝐈𝘁 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝘁 𝐡𝐚𝗿𝐝 𝘁𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝘁𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝘁𝐞 𝐞𝘆𝐞-𝐜𝐨𝐧𝘁𝐚𝐜𝘁 𝘀𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝘄𝐚𝘆𝘀 𝐩𝗿𝐢𝐝𝐞𝘀 𝐡𝐞𝗿𝘀𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝘃𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝘀𝘁𝐞𝗿𝐞𝐝.     Why yes, dragonborn naturally were taller than races that shared more similarities with humans, but this was nuts. Coming up with an excuse to not look him in the face now seemed easier   —   The woman would suffer severe neck pain if indulging in a conversation with the lizard for too long.

Babette wasn't a mere seamstress, that one was right. Nothing she was too proud of. It was not her own magic that flowed through her veins but more that of her patron   —   an archfey. Open for the lady to use as she desired.

     ❝ Well, not exactly only that . . . ❞     The hexblood stammers. His tone made it obvious he smelled a rat. No use to ride for a fall now.

And then, Babette tilted her head up, despite the sun rays which reflected on the dragonborn's armor already blinding her.     ❝ I'm harmless, I swear. Just my patron, no ulterior evil motives here, sir. ❞

[restless-dragonhunter]

ashen & rheighar ❤️‍🩹 characters belong to @a-french-guardsman !! thank you :)

commission info | more art

[restless-dragonhunter]

[restless-dragonhunter]

At Karlach expressing her opinion of the party thrown by the Elturian government - that is, that it was adequate enough - the dragonborn's glowing blue eyes widened and a hearty laugh resounded straight from his throat, small scales following the movement with a bronze reflection of the light.

"This, the best party you've seen in years? By Bahamut, I'll show you a party one day. One where half the guests don't have sticks up their arses."

He certainly was not one to bite his tongue. Seemingly a worthy enough officer of the Hellriders that he did not fear speaking his mind about whatever his superiors had thrown together for them.

"Yeah, I'm certain they offered Zariel to have me as her champion instead and it terrified her enough that she agreed to anything," he grinned. "Jokes aside, we were winning that war. It was either accepting our terms or seeing half of her army decimated for nothing. Even she can be reasonable at times."

Rheighar put down his empty tankard, throwing a look around to ensure they would not be overheard, and turned towards Karlach once again, crossing his arms.

"Serious business, wifey. This is an arranged marriage, I know. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do. You can have a different room, have lovers, whatever. It's fine. I won't mind either way. Have your freedom, and enjoy it."

If there had been one thing she'd missed about the material plane, it was the food and drink. Less about who might've been waiting for her if she ever returned, and more leaning towards what she could eat. Bread, still hot from the oven and laden with rich, salty butter. Cheese that did not taste both sour and dry. Fuck, her mouth had watered at the thought.

She could handle wearing a dress for a few hours if this was the fare they offered her. As she took a swig from her flagon, Karlach took a moment to eye the dragonborn. Though he had looked fetching in his ceremonial armour, Karlach thought he looked better now. Less terrifying, a lot more comfortable.

"Speak for yourself, mate," Karlach said with a grin that was all teeth. "This is the best party I've seen in years." No word of a lie, neither. The Blood War left little room for celebration, whether in parties or in gloating. The tiefling knew that he would understand that a lot better than most, as a hellrider.

Could hold his drink, too, if how he necked his own was anything to go by.

"Honestly, I'm eager to get the fuck out of The Blood War. Way I understood it, only way I was leaving was through death. When I tell you I leapt at the chance ... Must've given them something really, really big for her to have parted with me of all people."

[restless-dragonhunter]

As far as weddings went, it was quite different from the ones he was used to in Tymanther, but nothing that seemed to unsettle Rheighar much. He considered it another day on duty, only in slightly fancier clothing, something he was not fond of.

He could tell that his bride felt absolutely the same about the way she was dressed; he knew little of her, but he could tell from the expression on her face and her constant trampling that it was not the clothing she would have chosen, were she given a choice.

With the ceremony gone by, the dragonborn had let go of his heavy armour, cape and medals to remain in his military jacket only, eager to down alcohol at the afterparty - something he was as skilled at as horse riding or handling a spear.

The flagon of beer offered by Karlach was half-downed in a single time by the reptile, quite a feat really; the jug held high above his head, snout up in the air, mouth wide open to swallow the drink as if he needed it to live, forked tongue almost vibrating with the joy of partaking in the wonders of beer once again.

"I've seen better parties. But I've certainly seen worse ones."

The flagon was set back on the table nearby him with a near-thunderous sound, his grasp seemingly quite firm.

"You are free from Zariel's service, now. How does that feel? Looking forward to move to Elturel, or are you anxious?"

When Karlach had said she would do anything to get out of Avernus, marriage had never crossed her mind. The way she had seen it, marital bliss was a lifetime and a bit away from the chaos of it all, and better afforded to those who didn't spend their time fighting tooth and nail to survive.

The really fucked up thing was the dress she had been shoved into, and it was made of a fabric that itched and scratched and when she moved a certain way, the cloth snuck its way up between her-!

No, no time for that. Griping and complaining would get her nowhere, though she was certain that the dress in question had all been one big, horrible joke. She had never pictured herself to be a bride before this, as she had spent the years between her nineeth nameday and her twenty-third blazing in and out of beds she had been invited to.

The doors opened, and Karlach lifted her head. She knew little of who she might be marrying, outside of the fact that he was a hellrider, and very little else, though the tiefling had tried to press for more information. Rheighar, his name was. And as she looked upon him now, stared, actually, she came to the conclusion that he was rather handsome.

Karlach stood a little straighter, and cursed the fucking dress yet again.

As far as ceremonies went, theirs went off without a hitch. The other weddings she had remembered from her time back in the city had been horridly studdy affairs, with long-winded vows that had bored her to death. Without the intimacies of love and all that nonsense, theirs had been short and to the point.

What she'd really looked forward to, was the afterparty. Hells, she'd missed beer. The fact that it did not feel and taste like a thick, stomach-curdling bile saw her chugging down a flagon or two the moment she had been able. She would approach Rheighar now, a flagon for herself in one hand, and one for him in the other. "Not bad for a hell-party, eh?"

[restless-dragonhunter]

"Oh no, I won't be held responsible for your death, wizard. Grab this. And use it wisely, because it's my last one."

The dragonborn reached inside his cuirass and tossed a scroll of Misty Step to the human, taking a few steps back for momentum. The jump was nearly exceedingly easy for him, who made up in physical abilities for the impossibility to cast spells.

Glowing blue eyes watched Gale from the distance that now separated them. From the information Rheighar had gotten, this was one of the survivors of the Nautiloid crash. Tadpoled for days, but no sign of ceremorphosis, aside from diminished magical skills that would progressively restore themselves with time. Fascinating.

If he stuck around a little more, he could learn more about this case - learn what protected him against turning into a mindflayer, what were his vulnerabilities and what were his plans. He had a whole list of contacts who would love pouring golden coins into his clawed hands for these details.

"That item you're looking for better be worth it."

@restless-dragonhunter : ❝  this is a bad idea but i’m already committed so i might as well not half-ass being a dumbass.  ❞

" mm. " agreement comes as a hum, though tinged with a bit of disapproval. the cliff face in which they stand is a rather large one, the chasm bellow spelling certain death should they miss their mark of their intended goal : a less than favorable size outcropping just a jump away ( his poor knees.. ) " yes well, such an occasion calls for a bit dumbassery, i suppose. "

it was far too late to turn back now lest all their work to get here be for nothing. gale sweeps a hand in front of himself, the universal sign of go on. " your words, not mine. right then, my friend. lead on. i will follow in your stead and hope we don't misstep and plummet to our death. that would be most unfortunate. " not just for them but for any other living thing in the area.

[restless-dragonhunter]

Do not weep for me; this is what I was born for. (Joan of Arc)

18+ independent roleplaying blog for Rheighar Drraseth, dragonhunter and Hellrider, an original character for a Baldur's Gate III/D&D setting. Follows and likes from @vigilant-cleric.

Carrd. Written by Firmin, 23, he/him.