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somewhereincairparavel · 5 months

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Percy this. Percy that. It was always about Percy Jackson. All the fucking time.

It was always about the Hero of Olympus, the one who defeated Kronos and led the battle of Manhattan, the one who was offered immortality by the king of the gods himself, the one who restored glory to Rome by returning the golden eagle, the one who became praetor of the Roman camp in 2 weeks with limited training.

His Roman camp. Jason Grace's Roman camp.

Percy Jackson had pulled off everything in 2 weeks that Jason Grace wasn't able to accomplish despite dedicating his whole life for duty. 11 years of blood, sweat and tears, simply gone down the drain.

Jason had failed his camp. He had failed his home. Turns out, he wasn't as great as the people of Rome had once preached about him. It was obvious considering the less than warm welcome he had gotten from his so-called “home”.

He received no hugs, no cheers, no “we missed you jason!”, no “I was so worried about you!” or even a single pat on the arm by his “friend” Dakota. Dakota and Gwendolyn hadn't even spared a glance at him.

Nothing. Instead, this new Jackson boy was held up to worship like a god amongst the people who once considered Jason a “hero”.

Jason laughed bitterly. Was it selfish of him to be disappointed with Reyna? With a pang, he got to know that Reyna hadn't sent a single search party out to look for her “best friend”. Not like Annabeth did for Percy, not like Thalia did for Percy.

With a pang, he got to know that the whole camp basically deemed him as ‘dead’ and Reyna hadn't even set up a memorial of remembrance for him. The camp had simply moved on with their new hero. Without a single shred of thought for Jason Grace.

The forgotten Hero. The lost hero. Jason Grace.

These thoughts of doubt gnawed on Jason's mind, slowly eating him up ever since he'd first seen Percy Jackson in those damned praetor togas that once belonged to him.

He didn't dislike the boy, of course not, it wasn't Percy's fault that Hera wiped their memories or switched camps.

But it was hard for Jason to not resent him, or feel even the tiniest amount of envy, knowing that Reyna willingly replaced him with Jackson. Very quickly too, at that. He overheard Octavian blabbing to his lackeys about how Reyna “was head over heels for Percy almost immediately”

“I guess that's it. Maybe I am someone who is easy to replace.” Jason thought, his eyes pricking as he looked over from the flying ship, at the place he once used to call home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason watched remorsefully as Thalia, Grover, Percy and Annabeth were all gathered at the table in camp half blood, cracking jokes about dam french fries or whatever that meant.

Thalia caught Jason's eyes, staring at all of them from a distance. She smiled softly, and gave him a tiny wave. He weaved his lips into something that was meant to look like a wry smile, but it came out as a slight grimace, as he waved back.

Thalia was so close to Jason, yet so far away.

He knew she loved him, but it felt different. And an annoying, nagging part of Jason had known that Thalia would never be as close to him as she was to Annabeth or Percy.

Ironic isn't it? Jason and Thalia were always connected since they came from the same womb, yet she was closer to Annabeth, a girl she'd found after she had run away from the same woman that had given Jason to the wolves. The same woman who had turned his life upside down by abandoning him.

Thalia had found Annabeth right after she thought she had lost Jason. In a strangely ironic way, Jason felt like he'd been replaced all over again.

Thalia had replaced Jason as a younger sibling with Annabeth without even realizing it, all of this took place mere months after a baby Jason was considered to be dead. This situation had strangely reminded him of Camp Jupiter, how he was replaced by Percy right after Jason was considered “dead” by Camp Jupiter.

This made Jason reach the possibility that if he were indeed “dead”, he wouldn't be missed. People wouldn't bat an eyelash. Since there was always someone better than him. Someone like Percy Jackson, who could easily fill the void Jason would leave behind.

His eyes watered, as he looked at how much fun his sister had with his friends. Knowing full well, that he'd never be able to do the same.

Jason felt ashamed that he had to ask Percy about Thalia’s likes and dislikes, he was thalia’s brother. He was supposed to know.

Jason watched as Thalia quickly hugged the trio, as she left their table to leave with the hunters, not even realizing that there was one person whom she forgot to hug.

Don't take it personally. Don't take it personally. She just forgot. She doesn't hate you. She just forgot. She doesn't prefer Percy over you. She's in a hurry. That's why she forgot. Jason repeated that like a mantra, the only person he was trying to convince was himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And he rejected immortality!- oh you should've seen Zeus' face!” Annabeth exclaimed to Hazel excitedly, as Percy was blushing at the compliment fountain being poured at him by Hazel and Annabeth.

Jason had always been fascinated by that story, the almighty Percy Jackson getting offered to become a god, by Zeus.

His father. Jason's father, Zeus.

Jason felt stupid and guilty for getting envious, it's not the fact that Percy had been offered immortality, no. Jason couldn't care less about being immortal. It was the person who offered Percy invincibility that bothered Jason so much.

Jason knew that even if he went to the ends of the world to accomplish something, his father wouldn't be able to praise him or even talk to him for a long time.

Zeus and Jason could never be like Hades and Nico, or Poseidon and Percy. That's just how it is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reyna had come to camp half blood for a fun visit. Jason would've been ecstatic in other circumstances, but in this case, he wanted to be as far away from her as possible. Because currently, Reyna seemed to be looking at everyone, but refused to meet Jason's eyes. She seemed to keep her distance as she laughed at something Percy and Piper were saying.

She may as well have just stabbed him, it would've hurt a lot less.

He had truly been naive to believe that he could make amends with Reyna. Now he knew, it would never be possible. There was too much pain mixed with bitterness on both ends. But seeing her get along with Percy reminded him of the old times of friendship he and Reyna had shared. Keyword: had.

Once again, the fates had shown him that Percy Jackson would always be better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Jason Grace lay on the cold floor, coughing out blood. He realized he was alone, he was dying, but he was alone.

Like always. The sickly voice of Gaia, that had once haunted his nightmares, boomed in his head. Jason knew he was hallucinating as a result of blood loss, Gaia is in deep slumber. But that did not stop the voice in his head that was invented by his insecurities. Even in the end, you've been forgotten, Jason Grace. Because that's what you will always be. The second best. The leftover. The pawn who is discarded, after his purpose has been fulfilled. Percy Jackson would always be better in everyone's eyes.

To the Romans, you are simply the one who betrayed his lineage. But Percy is the one who restored glory. He did your job for you.

To the Greeks, you are simply a burden, one whom they were forced to welcome.

To your father, you are merely one of his many sons.

To your sister, you are a stranger.

Jason's resolve to live had weakened, hot tears were streaming down his face as he closed his eyes in defeat, he had come to the painful conclusion that nobody is going to come find his body. Nobody is going to mourn him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh I will always be much better than you at this! Bring it on, dude!” Percy laughed as he striked his play sword lightsaber at Jason's. They clashed.

“You wish, Jackson!” Jason shot back jokingly, as they sparred playfully with toy lightsabers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jackson, you jerk. You were right after all, you will always be much better than me” Jason laughed bitterly, as he recalled that memory of his sparring session with Percy.

Suddenly everything went black. The life had successfully ebbed out of him.

Little did Jason know, was that someone had indeed come to look for him. Tempest, his Pegasus had come to retrieve his body, but Jason was long gone. People had indeed mourned him. His friends were, indeed, anguished. His sister was, indeed, heartbroken.

Jason's soul parted this world, with the knowledge that he'd always be The forgotten Hero.

The lost hero. Jason Grace.

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rainrot4me · 3 months

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Behind The Veils

Summary: Hiking to capture the perfect sunrise photo for your portfolio, you stumble upon a supposedly abandoned cabin, your curiosity driving you to investigate. When you're met with two very large and very aggressive masked men, they decide that they'll put you to good use.

Characters: Masky & Hoodie x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Bondage, gagging, choking, throat fucking, restraint, teasing, dominance, threesome, vaginal, anal, eating out, cumming on face, threatening, chasing, bargaining, mentions of guns, ropes

Words: 6.1k

You would do anything for a good shot. Trespassing included.

Working on your portfolio for school was proving to be more physically demanding than you anticipated, but if it meant you got in on a good scholarship, you were willing to break a few laws.

Your heart raced as you pushed down the barbed wire fence and swung a leg over. These woods were off-limits as deemed by the state, but you knew of a beautiful mountainscape that would make for a perfect sunrise picture. And, considering how your portfolio was currently looking, you needed this shot. Glancing at the “Private Property, Do Not Enter” sign one last time, you swung your other leg over and pulled your backpack back onto your shoulders.

You filled your large pack with enough stuff to last you a day. A sleeping bag, a one-person tent, a fire starter, and all the other junk you could think of. It was late afternoon now, and you planned on setting up camp closer to the lookout and hiking the rest before sunrise. It would be a couple of miles, but you were willing and excited. Photography was your life and passion, and you planned on following it through no matter the challenge (or legality).

Pushing away from the barbed fence, you trekked through the dense forest, with no clear path in sight. You pulled out your phone and found your map, searching for an easier way to the scenic lookout, but finding no angle except the one you were taking now. You groaned, shoving your phone back in your back and continuing on. It wasn’t all that bad though. The weather was warm, a breeze blowing through the dense trees and cooling you off. The late summer afternoon had animals and bugs buzzing, creating a nice scenery to walk through. You wouldn’t only get a good picture, but a nice hike in as well.

But as the day passed and the sun stooped lower into the horizon, the woods were becoming less and less inviting. The animals had gone quiet now, with no chirping or singing of birds in the trees. The only noise was the low humming of insects in the grass, an ominous feeling creeping on you the darker it got. You knew it was only your mind tricking you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching you. Only about two miles out from the lookout now, and this felt like a good place to set up camp.

Hurriedly, you unpacked your bag, popped up your tent, and rolled your sleeping bag out. The sky was dark with the colors of the sunset, but it provided just enough illumination to gather fallen branches and make a small fire stack. You crouched down, tossing some brush and leaves into the pile and striking the fire starter, creating a spark that flamed into a small fire. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to heat your bowl of food and provide you warmth against the cooler night air. Still so strangely quiet, the forest was dark, unable to see past the glow of your fire. You tried not to psych yourself out, but you gripped your pocket knife close, fiddling with the blade anxiously. You knew there were no people out here. At least none besides brave teenagers who dared each other to throw parties out here. Your main concern was a bobcat or some wild animal running up on you, but you thought scaring anything off wouldn’t be too difficult.

You breathed deep, trying to calm your nerves against your racing mind. Deciding you were tired enough, you zipped open the small tent and wrapped it up in your sleeping bag, closing the tent back and nestling it. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and grasshoppers in the grass, but your brain was still on high alert, listening closely. But when nothing came, your eyes eventually fluttered close and you slipped into sleep.

Morning eventually came, and you were pleasantly surprised with how little you stirred during the night. Unzipping the tent, the cool morning air rolled in, pulling you awake. The forest was covered in a dense wave of fog, the sun still low on the horizon and just barely peeking up against the horizon. Jumping up, you quickly packed your things and shuffled your backpack on. But when you went to stomp out your smoldering fire, something in the dirt nearby caught your attention. Peering closer, your heart sunk, fear rising in your throat. In the damp dirt, a very large bootprint was sunk into the ground. As you looked, you found more following closer to your tent. You began to silently panic, swinging your head around to look through the trees, but sighing when you saw nothing. Your heart still raced with the knowledge that someone had been walking around near your camp making you sick.

Stomping out the rest of the fire, you scurried away back onto your path, walking a little faster than you were before. As you walked, you tried to convince yourself that maybe you were tricking yourself. Maybe it was your boot print that you accidentally left, or someone that had hiked there before and it was just their leftover tailmarks. But you knew that boot was easily four sizes bigger than your own, and that boot print looked way too fresh. Shivering, you continued your trek but kept a close eye out, jumping at any slight movements.

Eventually, you crept up the mountainside, breathing heavily as you raced against the sunrise to the rocky overlook. The fog had settled, a thin haze of mist against the grass all that remained. Gripping onto trees, you pushed up the hill, the lookout coming into view. You sighed heavily, tugging yourself up the rocks and eventually reaching the top, breathing heavily. But as you caught your breath, you tossed your backpack off and rummaged through for your camera and the stand. The sun was just barely peeking up, offering a nice pink haze across the entire scene. Your excitement bubbled as you found your supplies and began to set up at the edge of the rocks.

High up on the mountain, you could see the stretch of the forest, the trees looking even more dense from up high. It was stunning as the sun reflected off of the morning dew. The mountain range in the distance complemented the horizon beautifully, the sun shining right between the peaks. Clasping your camera onto the tripod, you turned it on and angled it, catching the expanse of the forest in the lens. You smiled wide, snapping dozens of pictures before repositioning and capturing more. You would go through them all later, editing and angling them just perfect for your portfolio. This scene just screams adventure, solitude, and daring. It was perfect.

As you finished taking pictures, you noticed a gap in the treeline further up the mountain, another great angle of the mountain range. Grabbing your stuff, you hauled further up, clicking through the photos you had already taken as you walked. These were exactly what you needed, but you wouldn’t mind snapping a few more from a different angle just in case.

Pushing through the brush of the mountain, you finally reached the higher peak, already throwing your stuff down to set up again. But as you set your tripod up, something in the trees caught the corner of your eye. Turning, you could barely make out the cabin hidden amongst the large trees. Peeking, your brows knitted, unsure of why there was a cabin out here in the first place. Turning back, you quickly snapped a few pictures before packing your stuff back up, the sun well above the mountains now.

Pushing deeper into the trees, you studied the cabin, the small lodge otherwise invisible from outside the forest. The thick leaves and foliage disguised it, making it all the more ominous. Maybe it was a hunting cabin used during the winter or some old abandoned home before the state closed this forest off. You knew you should’ve been more cautious, but as the sun peeked through the trees and cast a warm glow against the dark wood, all you could think of was how good it would look in a photo.

Pressing closer, you hugged against the trees, trying to see the best angle for a picture. The cabin was older, with weathering and vines decorating the exterior. But it was charming, in a creepy kind of way. As you rounded to the side of the cabin only a couple of yards away, you lifted your camera and shot a couple of pictures, admiring the mist radiating around the lodge in the early sunlight. You trudged around to the back, lifting your camera again but stopping quickly. At first, you thought it was just the sunlight shining through one of the windows. But as you looked closer, you could see a small lamp turned on inside of the dusty window.

Your heart stopped, a cold shiver shooting up your spine. There was no way someone was out here. Especially not inside that decrepit old thing. You knew you should’ve high-tailed it out of there, packing up your stuff and shooting back down the mountain. But you being your daring self, you pressed closer to the small porch of the cabin, trying your best to peek inside the fogged window. When you eventually got so close your feet knocked the steps of the porch, you stepped up, sliding to the window.

Cobwebs decorated the porch, and large vines and patches of weathering surrounded the wooden door. You couldn’t see very well through the window, but as you crouched against the cabin and peered inside, you were shocked to see nothing. There were no signs of life inside besides the small lamp, somehow powered on in the middle of nowhere. How it was getting electricity, you were too dumb to figure out.

You stood slowly, trying your best to see further than the lamp through the fogginess of the glass. Maybe it was just left on accidentally? You hoped so. But who would come all the way out here? After deducing that the place truly was abandoned, you set your bag on the porch and lifted your camera. Even though scary, the closeness would make for a good picture. Angling, you captured the lamp framed by the foggy window. However, when the flash of the camera went off, a sudden thud echoed inside the lodge. Your heart dropped, white fear shooting through as you backed against the railing of the porch. Shit. Shit. Shit. The sudden loud thuds of boots sounded inside, your body scrambling quickly to grab your bag and run, but it was already too late.

The door slammed open in your face, knocking you back on your ass down the steps and onto the grass below. You didn’t even look up, turning quickly to dig your feet into the ground and sprint. You held your camera close to your chest, panting heavily as you dodged through the trees. You had no idea who was in that cabin, but you weren't going to stick around and find out. If they were crazy enough to live out here then they were crazy enough to hurt you, and fuck that. Nudging through the brush, you pressed through the trees, heaving desperately for air as your legs burned with fear. As soon as you felt like you had gained a good distance away, it all ended. You felt your head stop before the rest of your body, your limbs shooting forward before you were slammed down to the ground with a loud thud. Your head pounded, a large hand pressing your face down into the ground and giving you a terrible impact headache. You’d be lucky if you didn’t have bruises from how hard your body stopped.

Groaning sharply, you squinted your eyes, your vision partially blinded by the thick fingers pressing down against your face. Your body panicked, writing under the weight as the body on top of you pressed down harder, restricting your movements. You wanted to scream, but your head was pounding too hard to speak, let alone scream. Clawing at the hand on your face, you whined, desperate to move as fear ran through you.

“Quit fighting.” A gruff voice groaned in front of your face, pressing your head down harder into the grass. You tried to see him, your head pressed to the side so all you saw was the dirt and grass beneath you. Until you heard those boots thudding beside your head again, echoing against the forest floor. When they came into your vision, you panicked, the thick black soles blocking your vision. The figure knelt, the other person holding you down angling your head up to get a clear shot of the man crouching beside your head. “Well, hello.” This voice was lighter, scratchier than the other but not as rough. They were both men though, and large enough to hold you down.

The man in front of you was odd, something straight out of a movie. He wore a white mask decorated with a face, little holes cut in the eyes so you could see his dark eyes. He glared at you, his brown hair messed in front of his face. You were caught in confusion, your eyes flicking quickly against him as you tried to gather as much about his appearance as you could. The other man gripped your face tight, angling you to look at the sky as the two of them talked.

“She’s a fast little fucker.” The lower voice growled, nails digging into your cheeks as you began to struggle again. “Hold her steady, don’t let her wiggle out.” The other one commanded, standing and shuffling away. You finally caught sight of the other one, a mustard hoodie pulled over his head, a dark ski mask painted with a red frowning face. Who the hell were these two? They looked like some emo band wannabes and it seriously was beginning to scare you. What in the world were they doing in the middle of nowhere dressed like that? The one with the hoodie was staring right at you, his face covered but his eyes roaming your body. “What the hell are you doing out here anyways?” He gruffed, snapping your camera out of your hands. You gasped, reaching for it but him holding it above your reach.

“I was- ah- taking pictures. Of the sunset. I- I’m a photographer.” You huffed, tears pricking at your eyes as he remained unamused. He ignored your response, looking to the other one who was now dragging your bag towards you two. Zipping your backpack open, they rummaged through your belongings, throwing your supplies out onto the ground carelessly.

“Damn, so she was the camper out last night.” The lighter voice rang, tossing your sleeping bag onto the ground. Your heart sunk, tears finally spilling over your cheeks. So someone had come to your campsite last night. This was getting worse by the minute.

“Shoulda just killed her then like I said.” The darker voice growled, throwing your extra pair of socks down too. You sobbed into his hand, your hands clawing against his hand as he refused to let up. The one in the white mask crouched again, staring you directly in the eyes. “Knock her out, bring her back to the cabin.”

The last thing you saw before you blacked out was the hilt of a gun slamming down against your head, a sharp pain rining before everything went dark.

You had no clue how much time had passed when you awoke, but the sun was low in the sky, the colors of the sunset already spilling against the horizon through the window. The inside of the cabin was warm, a low fire crackling in the fireplace across from you. You glanced around, the inside was just as shabby as the outside, but the furniture inside wasn’t half bad considering you were tied to a table chair. Thick ropes wrapped around your torso, securing you against the back of the chair as you struggled. Your head pounded, a sharp throbbing echoing from the spot the gun made contact with your head. When you fully came to, you heard the loud ring of arguing from somewhere down the hallway, the small cabin doing little to conceal their words.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Masky, that on our only fucking week off some bitch decides to get curious.” The one in the hoodie, you recognized his voice. There was loud stomping, one following the other as they came closer down the hallway. “I say we just kill her, Hoodie, but you always need to interrogate the little shits.” The masked one growled back, the both of them coming into view through your hazy vision. They both glared at you, closing the distance between you as you struggled against your restraints. You could barely breathe as they hovered over you, their intimidating presence making it hard to stay calm. “Ple- Please. I just, ah, got lost. Please.” You gritted, pressing your feet against the floor and pulling against the ropes, but they didn’t budge. Respectively, Masky and Hoodie, their names fitting, leaned closer, basically ignoring that you had even said anything.

Masky slid away, grabbing your camera off the dining table and sliding it to Hoodie who turned it on. They flicked through the photos, you awkwardly staring as they studied each photo. “Seems like she was just taking photos,” Hoodie grumbled, handing the camera back to Masky as he glared back to you. “Ain’t half bad either.” You flicked your eyes hurriedly between the two, anxiety growing in your stomach as they silently examined your camera and you. There was no reading these guys, their every emotion concealed behind their stupid masks. Were they going to kill you? Over taking some pictures too close to their shitty cabin? What a way to die.

Masky tossed the camera down, you cringing as it scooted onto the table. “Looks like she wasn’t lying. Lucky you.” He grinned slyly, leaning against the table. They both had this bad habit of just looking at you and not speaking like they were communicating in their minds. It seriously freaked you out as you again tried to tug against your restraints. “Just let me go and I swear I won’t tell nobody. I- I’m just tryna take some photos.” You whined, shriveling in on yourself when they pressed closer again. They stood tall, looming above you and just stared. It was impossible not to just squirm under them, their eyes studying every inch of you. Their weird dynamic made you unsure, their personalities so different but complimenting each other perfectly.

Defeated, you hung your head, your head hurting too bad to plead anymore. But when you looked down, you noticed what they were looking at. Your face blushed, eyes widening as you shot your head back up at them. Your shirt was torn to pieces, your bra doing little to hide your tits through the shredded fabric. It must have happened when you were slammed to the ground, the thick underbrush tearing at your clothes before they dragged you back to the cabin. Your cheeks went dark, embarrassment creeping as you tried to hide yourself, but the ropes under your tits pushed them up further. When they noticed your embarrassment, you could hear them chuckle. “Embarrassed, huh? Sorry, Hoodie here isn’t very good about being polite while chasing someone.” He laughed, pressing close to your left, his gaze fitting on your tits. You squeezed your knees together, your stomach tight with embarrassment as Masky stared at you through the mask.

“Yeah, not very sorry if it meant I got a view like this,” Hoodie grunted, shoving Masky’s shoulder as he pressed closer to your right, leaning his masked face down closer to yours. You glanced quickly between the two of them, unsure of what to do as you felt trapped between two wild animals. Anger ragged at you, your face growing hot. These creepy freaks were perverts too, great. You thrashed against the ropes, kicking your feet forward but Masky held your knees easily. Hoodie gripped your jaw in return, angling your face to look at him as they held you still. “But I’m still not opposed to shooting you.” Masky huffed, digging his nails into your skin. Hoodie laughed, turning your head in his hand to get a better look at you. You struggled slightly, pressing your face against his hand in retaliation. “Feisty.” He smiled. Hoodie’s playful provocations and Masky’s intense gaze made you acutely aware of the charged energy between the three of you.

Masky gripped your knees tight, pushing them down against the chair and sliding his hands to your crotch. He tried to rub his hand against your clothed cunt, but you resisted, wriggling your hips down against the chair. “Don’t be all bratty now. I’m sure Hoodie would love to break that little attitude.” Masky huffed, gripping your legs apart. You whined, Hoodie’s answering grip against your cheeks. You glanced between them, shutting your eyes before sighing. “If I let you… whatever. Are you still gonna kill me afterwards?” You whined, struggling against the ropes one final time. The men glanced between each other, then back to you.”Depends on how good you take us. We’re trying to enjoy our week off of work but you had to just run up on us, huh? You gotta earn your way out of this one.” Hoodie barked, fiddling with the zipper of his jeans when you noticed the slight bulge prodding through. Your cheeks grew dark again, your eyes shutting as you gritted your teeth. “Not my fault you’re squatting in the middle of nowhere.” The hooded man gripped your face tighter, tugging his pants down and letting his large cock spring free, the thick length bobbing in front of your head eagerly. “Then maybe don’t go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” Giving the length a few good pumps, he pressed his cock head against your mouth, tapping it against your lips before pulling your jaw down. You glared up at him before sliding your tongue out, flattening against the head. Hoodie’s playful dominance contrasted with Masky’s more forceful desire, their eagerness coaxing you.

Hoodie grunted, holding your jaw open as he pressed the rest of his length in, your jaw unhinging to fit the sheer thickness of him. Your eyes slammed shut, throat constricting around him as you strangled to breathe. He huffed above you, fist tugging at your jaw as he forced you to begin bobbing on the length. You strained, tongue pressing against him as he fucked into your mouth haphazardly. This was rough, but his tight grunts and moans made your stomach flutter. Masky was quick to wrap his fist around your hair, gripping it tight and tugging your head in time with Hoodie’s thrusts.

It was becoming difficult to breathe as Masky slid his free hand down in between your thighs and began to unzip your jeans, pressing his hand down underneath. His fingers found your clothed clit easily, rubbing harshly against the bud and waking it up. You grunted hard around Hoodie’s cock, breath catching and ragged as he refused to let up. His large hands were rough on your jaw, forcing it to stay open as his hips thrust into your throat. It was like Masky could read his movements, pulling your hair back or pushing your head forward to match his hips, making Hoodie grunt and moan loudly above you.

Tears pricked your eyes, the need to breathe becoming desperate, but you knew they didn’t care. Masky hands had abandoned your panties and were now under them, rubbing against your bare clit and making your hips jerk. “Ah- Damn. Bitch’s got a damn good mouth.” Hoodie growled, gritting his teeth. Masky just chuckled, sliding his thick fingers down your folds and pressing against your entrance, your stomach fluttering when he pressed the digits inside. You moaned loudly, slobber drooling out the corners of your mouth as Hoodie nestled his cock inside your mouth and refused to move. Your body strained against the ropes, hands gripping the chair as you begged for air, eyes wide and pleading with tears. Hoodie laughed, hands holding your head still and keeping you suffocating on him. Masky was gripping your hair in return, prodding his fingers deep inside of you and watching closely as you choked.

“Come on now, don’t make the poor thing pass out.” Masky cooed, curling his fingers inside of you and making you gag hard, body straining to moan around the cock. Your head was light, the lack of air getting to you as you choked, eyes growing heavy. Hoodie huffed before he popped out of your mouth, a thick string of slobber still connecting his head to your lips. Pressing your cheeks together, the hooded man chuckled, slapping his glistening cock against your swollen lips. “Nah, she’d be too boring knocked out. I like to watch her submit.” He growled, fisting his length.

You moaned sharply, eyes closing as Masky continued to curl his fingers, drawing noises from your mouth. He slid them out, his fingers glistening with your arousal, holding them up. He let go of your hair, his hand tugging down his zipper and freeing his strained cock. It wasn’t much bigger than Hoodie’s, but your raw throat didn’t make you thrilled to have two large cocks in your face. Hoodie gripped Masky’s wrist, pulling his hand to his mouth as he slid his mask up, barely revealing his mouth. Taking the soaked fingers in his lips, he swirled his tongue around them, reveling in the taste. Masky watched carefully, cock twitching in front of your face until Hoodie popped the fingers out of his mouth, smiling wickedly. “Yum.” He growled, kneeling between your legs and shoving your knees open. As he shoved your jeans down and off your legs, Masky was quick to grip your cheeks and slide the head of his cock into your mouth. However, unlike Hoodie, his hands let go, placing them on his hips as he watched you. “Well?” He grunted, your questioning look evident as your lips stayed wrapped around the head.

Hoodie was pressing your folds apart, his mask still hooked above his nose as do dove in, licking a thick stripe between them. You grunted, flinching as he lapped at your arousal. Masky still watched impatiently, eyes baring into your face. “Told you you were gonna have to work for it. Either get to sucking or I put a bullet there instead.” He grunted, tilting his head.

You furrowed your brows, your anger pooling but soon interrupted by Hoodie’s tongue breaching your entrance and curling. “Fuck you.” Reluctantly, you began to bob your head, chest straining against the ropes to suck as far down as you could. Masky was cocky, a smug expression in his eyes as he watched you slide down as far as you could before choking and retreating. You slipped your tongue around his head, lapping at the precum that pooled out. The tongue in your cunt made it hard to focus, little whines and moans vibrating on the cock in your mouth as your pleasure grew.

This was all kinds of insane, but your resolve was slowly breaking the further Hoodie’s tongue lapped up into your cunt. You huffed, sucking hard against the head of Masky’s cock and trying your best not to gag. He watched, unamused, very different from the grunts and gasps that Hoodie sported earlier. “You can either gag on it, or I’ll make you. I won’t be as nice as my friend though.” He snarled, smacking you on the face lightly, leaving a little red mark. You huffed, Hoodie still eagerly eating you out, groaning as he fisted his cock between his legs. Reluctantly, you unhinged your sore jaw, your throat pleading not to as you pushed further, throat constricting as his head pushed through. Gagging, your eyes slammed shut, gripping the chair beneath you. Only then did Masky’s face contort, little grunts and huffs of air muffled behind his mask. His nails dug into his hips, shallowly thrusting without showing too much desperation.

Your cunt was growing strained, Hoodie’s tongue poking and prodding and dragging you closer to your orgasm. Your back arched, choking on Masky’s cock as your orgasm rocked you, your hips desperately stuttering against Hoodie’s tongue. Your walls constricted, Masky shoving his cock deeper as you heard him grunting, warm seed shooting into your throat. It caught you off guard, but as your eyes rolled and cunt throbbed, you mindlessly swallowed the liquid.

Hoodie pulled his tongue out of your cunt, standing quickly as he pulled a pocket knife out of his jeans. You panicked, fear contorting your face before realizing he was cutting your ropes off, them falling to the floor. “You’re gonna cum on my cock next, sweetheart,” Hoodie growled, gripping your arms and pulling you, hauling you to the couch behind you. You were still panting heavily as he sat on the couch, hauling you onto his lap and straddling his legs. Masky was quick to follow, his ragged pants behind you as he stood behind your back, pressing his chest against your shoulder blades.

Trapped, Hoodie gripped your hips, cock throbbing under you as he angled himself, nudging his head against your clit. You flinched, sensitivity running through you as Masky ran his hands against your ass, gripping tightly and pulling them apart. Reaching around, he forced his fingers into your mouth, your tongue running over the thick digits. Hoodie gripped your hips down, pressing your entrance open with his thick cock, straining against your sensitive walls. You whined, stretching sharply as he pressed inside, moans stifled by the fingers in your mouth. Pulling back, Masky rubbed his wet fingers against your puckered asshole, your spine instantly straightening as you realized what he was doing.

“Oh, don’t get scared now,” He smiled, sliding the digits against your hole. You gripped Hoodie’s shoulders as he pressed inside, your cunt throbbing as he bottomed out, moaning sharply. At the same time, Masky pressed his middle finger inside of your asshole, a sharp sting ringing through your body. Hoodie pulled your hips up, thrusting you up and down against his length, your hands gripping tight on his shoulders. Masky curled his finger, probing and stretching the tight ring of flesh as he worked you open, soon adding another one. You were overwhelmed, the mix of pleasure and pain sending you reeling with moans, your skin hot to the touch.

“God, you’re so tight. Pussy sucking me in.” Hoodie huffed, nails sharp against your hips as Masky tugged your shirt over your head, free hand kneading your tits. You were whining, head spinning as Masky stretched you open, Hoodie filling you at the same time. “Bet you’ve never been fucked in the ass before, huh? Gonna have you screaming.” Masky cooed against your neck, mouthing against the skin as he fingered your asshole quickly.

Pulling out, he nudged the cock head against your hole, gripping your waist as he slowly pushed. “Hold her.” He grunted at Hoodie who held you nestled on his cock, hands forcing you to bottom out as he twitched inside of you. As you felt the slow push, you began to squirm, hips jerking forward. Masky nipped at your neck, sliding his tongue up to the back of your ear and nibbling, groaning as the head of his cock pressed through your entrance and popped in, a sharp sting rining you. Crying out, Hoodie began to slowly thrust up again, huffing his pleasure as he watched your face contort. “Looks so good when you’re helpless.” He grunted, your hands gripping his hands around your hips and pulling, begging him to let off. He still held, teeth gritting.

Masky pressed slowly, cursing as your tight ass clamped down, offering him little room to thrust as he rutted against you. He was big, and the stretch was uncomfortable. But as he reached his hand around to rub your clit, your whines turned to strangled moans, Hoodie resuming his devastating pace.

Before you knew it, they were both thrusting into you, your mixed grunts and gasps echoing through the small cabin. You were overwhelmed, jaw going slack as their hips thrust in time with each other, cocks brushing against the other inside of you. They pressed close against you, Masky’s teeth digging into your skin as his fingers rubbed harshly against your swollen cunt. “Relax, sweetheart, let us just ruin you.” He groaned, hips pressed flush against your plump ass and rutting up, making you whine.

Their pace was ruining you, for sure. Your eyes roll and jaw slack as you grip tight, trying to steady yourself. You couldn’t breathe, air catching in your throat as you cracked a moan. You could feel yourself getting close again, Masky’s fingers working you just right. The sweet mix of pleasure and pain ruined you, gasping hard when Hoodie slammed your hips down. Their pace was becoming ragged as well, hips rutting against you as their groans grew heavy. “Go on, cum all over us, sweetheart.” You whined, their hips heavy and voices rough as you felt that familiar pull spill over. “Oh God, please-”

Your cunt constricted, clit throbbing under rough fingers as you screamed your orgasm. It was dizzying, both holes clamping down and throbbing around the thick lengths as they continued to pound you. Your sensitivity rocked you, hips squirming and tears spilling down your cheeks as you tried to claw away from their still brutal pace.

“Oh don’t go running now.” Hoodie huffed, lifting his hips off the couch and slamming inside, relishing in the way your tightness held him. They both grunted, Masky tangling his hand in your hair and slipping out of your ass, your loud whine making him curse. Hoodie was soon to follow, standing and throwing your back down on the couch, the two of them standing shoulder to shoulder above you. You were panting, sweat coating your brow as you watched them fist their cocks in front of your face, their grunts and huffs echoing behind their masks. “Open up.” Masky barked, pressing his cock close to your face.

Fucked out, you obliged, too tired to give up a fight. They groaned, cock heads touching as they came on your flattened tongue, their seed striping across your face. You closed your eyes, squirming as the warm liquid coated your face and their moans became ragged.

After they settled, your eyes were heavy, blinking calmly as they watched you. Hoodie slid over to the kitchen table, grabbed your camera and flipped it on, laughing as he snapped pictures. Your cheeks were dark, your face fucked out and tired as the flash blinded you. “Looks real good without cum all over you.” He smiled, stuffing his cock back in his jeans as Masky did the same. Masky grabbed your ragged shirt, huffing as he wiped your face clean, your tired eyes making him laugh. “I like you a lot better when your mouth isn’t running.”

You couldn’t be bothered to give a response, just slumping down further into the couch as sleepiness dozed you. The two men chuckled, watching closely as you finally slipped into a very vulnerable sleep.

When you stirred, the first thing you were met with was the forest floor, grass tickling your nose. It was light outside, the early morning light slightly blinding your tired eyes. You sat up, looking around quickly but sighing when there was no sign of the men or their freaky cabin. Your backpack was beside you, leaning against the barbed wire fence where you had entered the forest, your camera sat on top. Standing, you grabbed the camera, flipping it on as you quickly looked through the photos.

You cringed as you looked at the lewd pictures of yourself, embarrassment crippling your face. You were thankful for their mercy, but their bruteness made you groan, your lower region still sore and throbbing. You threw your bag over your shoulders, hopping back over the fence as you made the trek back to your car.

You glanced back one final time, nervously scanning the forest edge, but sighing when you found nothing.

You got more than you came for, but at least your portfolio would be good.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

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astarionslittletreat · 1 year

Text

Sunrise

Astarion x female reader/Tav

Rating: Explicit

You must be 18 years or older to interact with this post in any way

Word Count: 5.7k

Tags: smut, slight end game spoilers, Astarion good ending spoilers, mentions of past abuse/abuser, sex, piv sex, oral sex, cuteness, fangs, biting, over-stimulation, bleeding, blood, blood drinking

Summary: Astarion and the reader share an intimate morning together as they contemplate their past, present, and future together.

Read on AO3

It's the early hours of dawn, just before sunrise. The sky was deep purple just an hour ago, but now it’s transforming into shades of indigo and blue. A faint glow threatens to spill over the city walls, to wash away the final vestiges of night. It's been a while since you've greeted the sun like this, not that you never see her at all anymore. After all, if something needs done during the daylight, you take care of it without issue. But that's all business. Just fleeting glances as you move through the crowded streets of Baldur's Gate. This right now, during the quiet hours of dawn, this is pleasure. This is you waking, nude, on the forest floor after your first night with Astarion. This is the sun’s rays warming your bodies before the two of you sneak back into camp. This is Astarion’s eyes glinting in the light, like that shared goblet of Arabella Dry at the Tiefling party.

Your heart yearns for the sun like you yearn for the past. You see your small smile reflected in the window as you continue to watch the sky change. A dozen-dozen heartbeats pass, and then the soft golden honey of the morning sun caresses the rooftops of the city, before spilling down onto the streets below. The heartache in your chest fades to nothing as the sun fully crests the horizon to kiss your face, a mere phantom in comparison to what you have now. The moment is over for you. You’ve had your fill and you begin to feel the fingers of sleep coaxing you to rest.

“Do you miss it, darling?" Astarion calls out to you from your bed, well out of view from the sun. "The daylight that is.”

Untying your silk robe, you let the soft fabric slip from your shoulders to pool at your feet. Both the sun and your lover lovingly gaze at your sun dappled curves. "It's strange," you muse, holding your hand up as if to catch the morning light. "I have so many memories of you in the sun, but no. You're the only thing I ever miss." You take a few moments, eyes squinting through the brightness to watch the people begin to fill the streets before pulling the heavy curtain firmly close. “And besides–” You turn to your love. He’s artfully draped himself, nude, across the plush pillows that adorn your bed. A deliberate attempt at making himself look all the more enticing. “How could the sun ever hope to compete with my dear Astarion’s beauty?”

He beams at your compliment, practically preening at the attention. Reaching out, he proffers his hand for you to take. It fits neatly in his as you let him pull you, gently leading you back to bed, back to him. It's a gallant gesture as your eyes readjust to the darkness of the room. A yawn begins to creep its way up and you only just manage to stifle it as Astarion draws your back to his chest. His pale, strong arms wrap around you as he presses you close, holding you tight. There weren't any cuddles the first night, or in the weeks that followed as you let him feed on you, but back then there wasn't anything real between you at all. Just lies and illusions and unending uncertainty. But somehow, by some miraculous blessing, you were able to earn his trust, just as he earned yours.

“Now you know that’s not what I meant, darling.” He leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Though, please continue to remind me of how beautiful I am. Your words almost make up for how useless mirrors are to me.” You hear the smirk in his tone alongside the underlying truth. Uncertainty. As much as Astarion tries to hide his past pain, to pretend he’s fine and not hurting, you know the scars will never truly leave. Even after death, Cazador still manages to find a way to torture Astarion, and it drives you fucking insane with rage. It takes you a moment to collect your feelings. There’s no room for this in the bedchamber, or in your heart. Anger and sorrow will do nothing but more harm and that’s the last thing you wish to bestow upon Astarion. All he wants–all he needs is an answer to the question he left unasked. It's not difficult for you to understand. He wants to make sure you don’t regret your decision to stay with him–worried that he’s not enough. He’s worried if this is what you truly want. That he’s not trapped you, or worse, that you’re staying with him out of some fucked up feeling of guilt or pity. He won’t admit that he’s terrified of hearing your answer even if he knows in his heart what it’ll be. That’s why he doesn’t ask what he really wants to know. That’s why he wears his mask of smiles as he plays with your hair between his dexterous fingers. He’s content to pretend, but there’s no way you can leave him like this. Just floundering inside his heart while he holds you in his arms. For the briefest moment you’re almost tempted to fall asleep like this. Wrapped in Astarion’s embrace, snuggled peacefully in your bed together, but you know that after all this time, a part of Astarion still seeks your assurance.

“I miss it, the sun, the people, our friends–” Astarion freezes, as still as a statue, and suddenly the room feels cold. His muscles jerk in a way that alludes to him not knowing whether or not to pull away or hold you tighter. Reluctant to let you slip away from him, he’s afraid that this will be the last time he has to hold you. Silly elf. “But it’s not in the way you think, my love. It’s purely nostalgia. I was just reminiscing about our early days. When we first met, when we first had sex, traveling together, and unsure which day was going to be our last." Your mind drifts, gravitating to fonder memories. “The first time we made love. Your grave. I–,” The threat of tears begins to rise in your throat so you cut yourself off. Again, there is no sadness in you. Just the overwhelming feeling of love for Astarion. Of feeling like you’ve found the place you both belong.

"I wouldn’t stop you, darling. I won’t keep you here, all for myself, if that is something you no longer wished for. If you ever–do decide you've had enough of me. Or even if you could no longer stand to spend your waking hours in the cold night. I would understand."

"Astarion!" The incredulity in your tone is a good mockery of Astarion’s own frequent ostentatiousness. He’s gone too far. This line of teasing isn’t any fun and, truthfully, it hurts to imagine leaving after striving so hard to live your life together. After ensuring your love is real, and strong, and brighter than any sunrise you could imagine. You move to chastise him quickly, turning in his arms as best you can to face him. Pressing your palms to his chest, you glower, face set into an angry scowl before you realize. His red eyes are overflowing with sorrow and self-loathing. And all at once, your anger melts into nothing. “My love,” you whisper as you press chaste kisses to the shadows under his eyes, and even though you’re the one being held, you wrap your arms around Astarion’s neck to bring him close. Your bodies move instinctually, the embrace being frequent and familiar as Astarion rests his lips against your neck. You card your fingers through his silky curls. There’s no intention of feeding at the moment, though. It’s just the two of you basking in your gentle love, relaxing into the moment.

“Do you remember, before making it back to Baldur’s Gate together, that godforsaken shadow cursed land we had to traverse?”

“Shit, don’t remind me.” Astarion scoffs, pulling back to look at you. His eyes roll in mirth, fangs flashing from behind his lips. “I know our dear Shadowheart was right at home with all the doom and gloom, and while I too am a fan of darkness and the macabre–I prefer to be the only creature lurking in the night, hunting for their next meal. That entire place was far too crowded for my tastes.”

“Not to mention Raphael, or the horrors of the Cult of the Absolute,” you trivialize in jest.

Astarion leans in close. His soft lips brush over the sensitive skin of your neck as he speaks. “Or that vile drow who sought to use me because of what I am.” The venom in his voice is dampened by the reverence in the kiss he places on your neck. “There is only one person I feed on and I have her right–here.”His hand is in your hair, his breath is hot on your neck, and your heart is suddenly choking you, pounding in your throat. His fangs barely scrape your skin and you know that you only have to say the word–.

“Yes,” you breathe. There’s never any pain. Just a light pressure as Astarion’s fangs sink softly into your flesh, and then a swooping sensation as your blood is being pulled to his lips. The familiar feeling of lightheadedness begins to return. It’s nothing light that first night. No, this is controlled, worshipful even as he savors your blood on his lips and tongue. You don’t need to tell him to stop before your fingers go numb and your heart flutters in protest. He’ll stop long before there’s any danger, no matter how much he may tease otherwise. It’s easy to relax and go limp, trusting Astarion fully as he cradles your body reverently.

Far too soon Astarion stops feeding from you. “Delicious,” his moan makes you shiver. Blood begins to slowly trail from your twin puncture wounds, painting your neck crimson. Astarion isn’t one to waste a precious gift that you offer so freely to him, however. He makes quick work of the mess. Devouring it all until it’s just his tongue on your skin, traveling the length of your neck, chasing the way your body shivers. Overwhelmed from the unique mixture of pleasure and pain that makes your head spin and your body hot. Gods, you love this man. He’s so, he’s just so, so–

“W–wait. Astarion, wait,” you weakly plead for his attention, grabbing at his shoulder. You feel him smile before scraping his teeth on your skin, refusing to stop. The devious vampire did this on purpose and he knows he’s been caught red-handed, or well, rather red-lipped as he continues to playfully bite at you. Astarion just hums into the curve of your neck, refusing to acknowledge that he’s been found out. “Hey!” You laugh defeatedly as Astarion kisses the shell of your ear. “Stop trying to distract me!”

Astarion’s lips find your jaw before traveling over your cheekbones. You close your eyes and he places kisses there as well before finding your mouth. Trying his very best to lure you into parting your lips for him. “I rather think you’re the distracting one, my dear.”

“I’m trying to tell you something and I want you to listen, please.” Glaring, you hold his red gaze in yours and his perfect, bloodstained lips fall into a pout that’s just a little too perfect. Another ploy. Your head is still slightly spinning, but through sheer force of will you begin to collect your thoughts. The need to kiss away his frown, however sly it might be, is strong, but he needs to hear what you have to tell him. “As sad and as miserable as that entire place was–if for some reason that’s where you were, where Astarion decided to be, I would also–”

“You mustn't worry about that, darling. I wouldn’t be caught dead, or rather, undead in a place like that ever again.”

“Hush,” You try to quiet him by pressing your fingers to his lips. A poor decision in hindsight as Astarion instantly kisses them. Running his tongue along your fingertips, trying his hardest to distract you once more. “Stop! Listen–just wait a second. I’m trying to be sweet to you.”

“Oh, I know exactly just how sweet you are.” Astarion’s voice drops as he slips into seducing you. “So much so that I rather think I’d like another bite.”

“Yes, yes. I know. Your “little treat”.” Reclaiming your fingers from Astarion’s greedy mouth, you cup his too handsome face. Willing him to listen to you. “The only thing I wish for in life, in death, in whatever time I’m given, is to be with you. Wherever and however I can. I love you and never once have I regretted my love or wished it away.” You’ll tell him of your love every second of every day if that’s what it takes. If that’s what makes him smile like this, dazzling and warmer than anything the sun has ever graced you with. You stretch your head up and kiss him. You kiss him and kiss him and kiss him. You kiss him until the need for air demands your attention and you break free to refill your lungs.

Astarion rests his forehead to yours, curly locks obscuring his hungry gaze underneath, as he catches his breath. Your chests heave in unison, breathing life into the fiery tension blazing between your bodies. One moment you’re both still, wrapped in each other's embrace, and the next the room spins as Astarion wraps a leg around your hip, rolling you until you lay on your back. He’s straddled your hip, pinning you underneath. His eyes are hungry as he looms over you, his disheveled curls haloing him in the dim light. Astarion drags a hand down your collarbone, delicately tracing the veins under your skin before gently cupping your breast. A flick of his wrist has you gasping as he plays with your nipple. You can’t help but thrust your hips up, seeking the attention that Astarion is teasing. He ignores your silent plea, stilling his hand until you follow suit.

“You’re not playing fair.” You halfheartedly complain, willing your body to calm.

“I never promised that I would, my sweet.” You don’t know what god or goddess you should pray to to thank them for bringing you Astarion, but you’re a devout believer. “Now stay still, or I might bite.” He flashes his fangs at you. It’s not a real threat. He’d never actually bite you without your consent, but the tease still sends shivers down your spine. Coursing through your body until they land, pulsing deeply in your cunt. Astarion leans forward, an illusion of a predator cornering their prey. His soft cock begins to harden as he cups your face in both of his hands. Cradling you as if you’re something breakable, something precious. Astarion swipes his thumb across your cheek as he stares into your eyes–as if it’s the first time he’s seen the sunrise. “I love you.”

Astarion pounces, taking you down with a devastatingly deep kiss. If kisses were ambrosia you’d have been drunk ages ago. And still you want more. You need more of him. His heart, his touch, gods above, you need his cock that’s pressed between your thigh and his abdomen, but Astarion refuses to stop kissing you or to move into a more accessible position. He slides his tongue into your mouth, licking you open until you writhe and squirm with a need that burns so hot it overpowers your senses. But even still, Astarion doesn’t relent. He presses on, moving from your mouth back down to your throat where he begins to suck bruises to your sensitive skin. Out of pure desperation, you grasp at his back until your fingers graze his scars before moving to grip his shoulders. You clutch him to you just as passionately as he kisses you. It takes everything inside of you not to bust and fade away into the Weave as Astarion uses his weight to keep you pinned to the bed. His lips move from your throat and for one solitary second you think he might give you what you need, but no. Instead, he works his way along your jaw, tracing you with his mouth until he finds the place under your ear that drives you wild.

“Fuck–please! Astarion—” His cock, hard and weeping now, rests on your stomach. Pressed between your bodies as Astarion rolls his hips. Clenching, you feel your arousal dripping out to stain the sheets below. You’re wet, so unbearably wet and empty and aching for him to fill you. You’re pleading and your moans do nothing to sway the elf, though you know the bastard hears you. His pointed ears twitch as you cry out for him, but he continues to hold you down. Unwilling to pull back even an inch to separate himself from you. You manage to angle your arm just enough to get a solid handful of his hair, and begin to pull. Slowly but firmly enough that his head raises just enough to make eye contact, and as you do, you feel his cock throb with need. He likes this.

“Oh fu–ck!” Astarion’s shameless cry comes out sticky sweet from his throat, Adam’s apple quivering prominently. He sounds drunk. He looks it too. The expression on his face is close to ecstasy before you accidentally lose your hold on his hair. Too turned on and thoroughly debauched to be able to concentrate on keeping your grip. Not when he shifts his hips to create a delicious friction between your slick pussy and his engorged cock. You chase the feeling, grinding against him as best you can, but to no avail. You’re still pinned beneath him. Hips and thighs locked. Both you and Astarion are reduced to base instincts as his rigid cock slides over your clit once more before contact is lost. This isn’t fucking working. You’re only briefly aware of the pillows being pushed to the floor, shoved away by Astarion to make better room for your head, before his hand reaches down. He shifts and forces your leg over his hip. He’s a man consumed by desire. His need for you.

Astarion hovers over you, his crimson eyes piercing you through your heart as you reach for him, aiming to pull him back down for another taste of his ambrosia lips. Instead he captures your hand in his and pulls it to his bloodstained mouth. He sweeps gentle kisses over your knuckles before intertwining his fingers with yours and pins it to the mattress. His other hand finds your thigh, grasping tightly before guiding your knee to your chest. Opening and exposing your pussy for him to slide his cock against your entrance. “That’s it darling,” he encourages you. Praising you as he slides against you, slowly dragging his cock along your wet slit. The head of his cock catches, and without hesitation, Astarion presses in. It’s blissful and devastating as Astarion finally fucking fills you. Sliding in on one long stroke to fully seat you on his cock. He doesn’t pull out, just gently grinds against you. His smooth skin and throbbing cock caressing you until your breath leaves. Whisked away by your lover, leaving you with blurry vision and a spinning room. “Now, now. We can’t have that.” Astarion rolls his hips, wonderfully grinding against your folds and bringing friction that your clit so desperately desires. The sensation makes you gasp, forcing you to gulp down air, reminding you that you’re here–now. Very much alive and not in heaven, no matter how much it feels like you are.

“Astarion–”

You’re not sure if he’s listening. Flaming eyes and a silent snarl are all that he gives you besides a deep guttural moan as he continues to fuck you. It’s slow and brutal and entirely different from any performance he puts on. This isn’t Astarion trying to pretend to be anything other than the vampire–the man that he is. Desperate and extraordinarily dangerous as he claims you for himself. Your orgasm taunts you. Haunting you from the edges, and you want it so fucking bad, but you also couldn’t care any less. It’s now, it’s this moment, it’s Astarion who holds your attention in his iron grasp. Ruining you with his love. You hear the wet sounds of your pussy as he fucks into you. Pushing more of your arousal out of your cunt with his cock. He lets go of your hand and leans in close, snaking his arm under the small of your back. Using his vampiric strength, Astarion pulls on you, just enough that your hips shift to a new glorious angle. One that has him hitting a spot that makes you go feral underneath him as his pelvis grinds against your clit on every stroke. He keeps his other hand firmly under your knee, pushing your leg into a position that stretches your hips. It all feels so fucking good.

Astarion’s taut, muscular body moves over you. He’s graceful even now as he holds you, fucking you rhythmically. You clench around him, wordlessly asking him for more, and he raises his head. Fangs snapping in the air, muscles tensing in his neck as Astarion tries hopelessly to hold on to his senses. A half-baked idea forms in your dazed brain. You don’t stop to think it through, you can’t. You just act, throwing your arm around Astarion’s neck, pulling him close until you have him right where you want him. You sink your blunt teeth into the side of his neck. Your vampiric imitation pales in comparison to the true thing. Only biting hard enough to bruise his delicate moonlight skin. The moment you bite down on Astarion’s neck, you feel his cock throbbing inside of you. His breath hitches in your ear as you press your tongue against his skin and a soft moan escapes his lips.

“Fuck–” he growls through gritted fangs. Dropping your leg, Astarion moves his hands to the curve of your hips. Holding on tight, and pinning you down as you continue your mock feeding. “Fancy yourself a vampire now, darling?” You bite down harder in agreement and Astarion melts in your arms. Moaning as you claim him as yours in return. “I think not,” he protests, and for a second you think it’s an empty threat. It feels like he’s close, like he’s struggling to keep from falling over the edge. That is until he starts to move again, fucking your pussy like a goddamn promise. “I’m the only blood sucker you’ll find in this bed, darling, and I’m going to eat you right up.” Before you know what’s happened, Astarion has hold of both your legs, knees propped over his strong shoulders. He circles your aching clit with his thumb as he savagely fucks you. Tits bouncing from the force, sliding you up the bed on every thrust. You feel the spit that streaks your lips as you gasp out for him. It’s too intense–too much all at once. You try to hold on, to stop your orgasm from slamming into. Astarion gives you a saccharine smile. "You sound so adorable when you're trying not to come."

You beg.

You curse.

You come.

Gushing on his cock, your body is electrified, and you fall. Blood rushes in your ears so loudly you can’t hear anything. Your senses thrust you into a burning pit of pleasure as Astarion forces you down further. Spiraling until you find yourself caught, supported in Astarion’s arms. An uncomfortable wetness coats your legs and part or Astarion’s stomach but you can’t find the motivation to care because somehow, he’s still moving. He's held on long enough to fuck you through you orgasm. Giving your pussy long, even strokes as he chases his high. His ethereal face is close and so you take him with your lips. Kissing him, licking his fangs, until you feel his cock pulsing, overfilling you until his spend leaks out from around his cock. Adding to the mess.You feel like you’re floating. Exhausted, yes, but happy and ready to sleep. The mess will keep till nightfall when it’s time to wake, but Astarion shows no sign of slowing.

“No, my love. You're doing so well for me, but I’m not done with you yet.” Grabbing a pillow from the floor, Astarion cups your head, lifting it for you to place the cushion underneath before tenderly laying you back down. He slides down your body, lavishing you with attention. Forcing you to stay in the present with him by kissing your dips and curves. Any place he finds on your body he marks it for himself. Kneeling between your legs he softly coaxes you open. His spent cock rests half hard but bobs in excitement as he spreads the lips of your soaked pussy, licking his lips like he's being presented with a feast in his honor. The air from the room feels cold and uncomfortable on your wet entrance, covered in the sticky slick remnants of your lovemaking. It makes you clench involuntarily and more of Astarion leaks out of you. Astarion looks ruined at the sight of you. His perfect features contort into agonized lust before he leans in.

“Wait! No I’m too–” He doesn’t listen. Astarion leans down and wraps his lips around your mound. You can’t help the way your body jerks at the first swipe of his tongue on your oversensitive pussy. He’s cleaning the mess he's made of you. His sharp fangs are hot pinpricks on your skin that further blur the line of pleasure and pain you’re walking down. Another swipe of Astarion’s tongue has you twisting, kicking your legs to pull away. You move higher up on the bed, willing space for your body to recover. “Please, I need a minute. ”

Astarion reaches up, catches your ankle in his firm grasp, and pulls. His strength makes it look easy as he drags you, clutching at the traitorous bed sheets in desperation, to his parted lips. “I said I’d eat you up darling, and frankly, I’m still absolutely famished.” His voice is gravel but yours is fire as he begins to eat his fill of you. This time you’re unable to pull away. He’s wrapped his arms around your thighs, locking your cunt to his mouth so he can eat you like a piece of fruit that drips down his lips and chin. Saccharine sweet and delicious as Astarion consumes you. Fucking you with his tongue. Licking your nectar coated skin and sucking you between his teeth.

You lack any leverage to fight back, to twist away. Your entire lower half is being held up off the bed by the vampire feasting on your pussy. If you sincerely asked for him to let you go, to set you back down you know he would, but you can’t force yourself to say the words. You don’t want to. You want this. Astarion knows you want this as you gasp, muscles clenching while he sucks your clit between his lips. His breath is hot flames that lick along your scorched nerves. “That’s it, love. You can give me one more, can’t you darling.”

Yes, you think, or maybe you agree out loud because you hear Astarion chuckle before kissing his praise into cunt. For a second you’re confused as he pulls back again, wondering why he’s stopped. But then Astarion adjusts his grip on you, making sure your leg is solidly hooked over his shoulder, before he slides two fingers into your pussy. “Ah! P-please,” you’re not sure what you’re asking for, but Astarion gives it to you all the same. Scissoring his fingers, he strokes your cunt. Gently trying to coax out your pleasure, caressing your insides until you sing. his lips find your folds once more. His devastating accuracy brings you over the edge in moments. You’re left gasping, head spinning as the position Astarion holds you in makes it hard to breathe. It takes him a few moments, his lips busy kissing your pussy, his tongue lapping your mess, before he eases you back down into the ruined silk sheets. His mouth finds yours and you taste yourself on his lips, bitter in comparison to how thoroughly sweet he’s being.

You feel dazed–and elated. Your body floats somewhere between the heavens and the earth. Entwined together with Astarion who holds you close, refusing to let you go, but you don’t mind. His skin, though warm, is still much cooler than yours. It feels wonderful as your heartbeat begins to slow, your breathing returning to normal. Turning your head just so brings Astarion’s lips back to yours and the easy kisses you share almost bring tears to your eyes. Blinking them away is easy though as Astarion deepens the kiss, parting your lips so gently you don’t realize what’s happening at first. Not until you feel Astarion shifting his hips to slide his engorged cock along your entrance once more. You part easily for him, sending shivers of over-stimulation mixed with desire through every limb. There is no rush this time. Just a few languid strokes that have you gasping into Astarion’s mouth before he stills. Even while kissing you, you can see the smirk on his face as he allows you to adjust to holding him inside. Laying there together, connected in the deepest sense. Warming each other with limbs and lips entangled. “What the hell has gotten into you?” You don’t really expect an answer from Astarion as he seems to be preoccupied with lavishing attention across your collarbone.

“I’ve decided to reclaim the day for myself. It’s what I’m owed,” he sulks, looking up at you through his pretty eyelashes, but you can hear the sincerity behind his words. Yes. Yes, Astarion is owed the day. The sun. That and so much more, but not all of it is within your power to give. But this–this you can do. His ruby eyes sparkle in the candlelight as they dance along your face. Your answering smile stuns him into silence.

*************************

The sun has long since set as you stifle a yawn. Nostalgia returns once more. It’s been ages since the night meant it was time to rest, but the elf who’s at fault for keeping you up all day looks positively happy. So you let your complaints remain silent as you gaze at your lover. A heavy tomb rests in his lap and a gold chalice clutched in his delicate hand is filled with either wine or blood. You can’t tell from your position across the room. Reluctantly, you glance back down to the delicately looping script on the thick parchment in front of you. The letter is from Gale, back in his tower in Waterdeep. You’ve been trying to read it for the last half hour, but Astarion is just, so distracting. Honestly, anything could distract you from Gale going on about his Tressym, but Astarion seems to be especially good at it. That is until your eyes catch a few words that make you excited.

“Astarion.”

“Yes, darling?” He answers, eyes slow to leave the pages of his book.

“How would you feel about visiting with Gale for a bit?”

Astarion doesn’t try to hide the disinterest on his face at all as he turns his attention back to his reading. “No.”

“It’s just that–wait. No?” His answer takes you completely off guard. “What do you mean no?”

He heaves a sigh into his book. “I suppose if he were to come here that would be fine with me, but I’m far too busy this evening to travel all the way down to the Lower City just to visit with Gale.”

“Busy?” you laugh. “What do you have planned that makes you “too busy” to see a friend?”

“First of all,” he interjects. Head raising until he adopts a pose of self-importance. “‘Friend’ is much too strong of a descriptor for my relationship with that wizard. At most we are merely,” his graceful fingers swirl about until he finds the words he’s searching for, “–former work associates at best.”

“Oh is that so?” you say, smiling up at the hill you know Astarion is about to come down from.

“And besides, what if I get a bit peckish later tonight?” He pouts, coyly looking up at you through his eyelashes. “Neither one of us would like Gale around for that.”

“Well you’re being very greedy tonight, and I can’t say I don’t like it either,” you shoot him a look before unburying the lead. “But Gale isn’t in Baldur’s Gate, love. He’s invited us to his tower in Waterdeep.”

“Why would we travel all the way to Waterdeep just to see Gale fawn over his cat?”

You hold out the thick parchment letter with Gale’s elegant handwriting for him to look over. “Apparently, Gale and Tara have a lead on a cure for your sun sensitivity–” Astarion is out of his seat, book falling heavily to the floor, and by your side in an instant. He snatches the letter from your hand, reading Gale’s words for himself. You put on an air of indifference. “But if you really don’t want to go visit an old ‘work associate’, I understand.”

“Now now now, my love. Let’s not be hasty.” You roll your eyes. “Gale is a dear friend of ours! And I hear that Waterdeep is beautiful this time of year, not as beautiful as I am, of course, but that would be expecting far too much I suppose.” You let Astarion read on, absorbing the message for himself. “Well,” he says as he reaches the end, signed with your friend’s love. “It seems our wizard has been busy. Very busy, if he has a possible solution for you too.”

“I’m not worried about that just yet, but it’s nice to know I might be able to stick around longer than I thought possible.” Astarion caresses your cheek, allowing you space in the same way you provide for him. “I think I’m ready for another adventure though. It’s been a while since anyone’s tried to murder us. What do you think, love?”

He bends down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. “I’m ready to have some fun,” he smiles. Fangs and all.

#astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate astarion #baldur’s gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate #reader insert #fanfic #astarionslittletreat #astarion ancunin

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sugarandspicewriting · 8 months

Text

This is Modern Feminism Talking!

Summary: Luke takes care of you outside a Halloween party.

A/N: A cute little Luke x Ditzy!Reader blurb. Heavily inspired by Sexy on the Mean Girls soundtrack I’ve been seeing it all over TikTok.

Warnings: Allusions to nsfw themes. Reader is Aphrodite kid coded but it’s never said. She’s also dumb.

“You’ve barely left your cabin and you’re already hurting yourself.” Luke huffs as he inspects the scrape on your knee, both of you sitting on the steps outside of the Aphrodite cabin. There was loud booming music playing inside. Monster Mash was a strange choice for a camp full of demigods, but it was Halloween.

A light breeze floats through camp, and your skimpy body con dress wasn’t keeping you warm. You pouted as you wrapped your arms around your arms and replied. “It’s not my fault. It’s these damn shoes.” You lift your foot up and show him your strappy heels to match your dress.

Luke sighs. The only reason anyone could tell what you were supposed to be were the mouse ears perched on your head.

“Of course baby.” He responds absentmindedly, digging through your purse for a bandaid. He started making you carry them with you after becoming acquainted with how clumsy you could be, and if looked at you for too long with that outfit, he’d have his own problems to deal with.

You gasped in delight when he found one in your bag. Bright pink. Of course. He took the wrapping off and stuck it on top of your scrape. He then lifted your knee up to his lips and placed a kiss on it. “There you go beautiful, all better now.”

As if miraculously healed, you giggled and quickly moved to straddle him. ”Thank you baby! What would I do without you!” You began to press kisses all over his face and he grabbed your hips. Whatever his siblings had snuck into the punch must have been strong. Your lips eventually slotted over his own and your arms around his neck. You sighed in contentment when his hands came up to your arms to sooth the cold. As much as he was enjoying this, he didn’t want you getting sick and he could feel the goosebumps on your arms.

He pulled away and dodged your attempts at another kiss, and tried to ignore your pout. “Cmon sexy mouse, let’s get you inside before you turn into a sexy icicle.”

Your face lit up at the idea of rejoining the party with him, lost kiss seemingly forgotten. You got up at an alarming speed… and promptly fell on your ass after stumbling over your shoes again.

Luke takes a tired breath before helping you up and wrapping an arm around you to keep you upright. You give him an exaggerated kiss on the cheek. “My knight in shining armor” you coo in his ear. “What would I do without you?”

Gods he was so in love with you.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you

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thealtoduck · 11 months

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Sweet Juice

Clark Kent x Male Reader

Content: Greek Mythology AU

Warnings: Smut, Bottom!Reader, Top!Clark, semi-public sex, anal sex, unprotected sex, drunken sex, skinny dipping, spit as lube, missionary position…

Summary: You’re a member of Dionysus following and during a feast you meet a demigod son of Zeus, Clark, also known as the man of steel…

——

You were a lesser deity in a world filled with powerful gods, monsters and heroes. You were the son of the now famous naiad, Daphne. Unfortunately though your mother was no longer with you as she had been turned in to a laurel tree as a form of mercy.

It was considered mercy because the only other option she had was to be violated by Apollo, who was under the spell of Eros after an argument between the two. Apollo feeling bad about the whole ordeal apologised by finding you a place in the retinue of Dionysus and Ariadne.

You didn’t mind this as your duties were pretty much drink, dance, fuck, drink more and generally just to have a good time. It was just constant partying and celebration.

One night when the party had yet to start a visitor came for Dionysus. You were sat close to the god’s throne, you were petting one of his pet leopards when a strange man appeared and entered the god’s camp. He walked slowly towards the olympian. You noted his handsome appearance as he stopped in front of Dionysus.

”Lord Dionysus, you sent for me” the man said in a deep tone. ”I did” Dionysus confirmed before standing up saying loudly ”Everyone! Let me introduce to you to Clark, you may know him as the man of steel!… And also one of my younger half brothers”.

Dionysus followers broke out in cheers for the hero, who seemed slightly confused by the big welcoming. ”I’ve called him here to save us all from the cyclops that has been attacking in the night” Dionysus declared and everyone once again cheered.

”What?! You never told me of any cyclops?!” Clark asked agitated. ”Actually I didn’t tell you anything but you showed up anyway” Dionysus teased him. ”Why don’t you save them yourself?” Clark questioned. However Dionysus only responded with a simple ”Where’s the fun in that?”.

Clark looked irretated at Dionysus and said ”I will not be tricked in to fighting someone else’s battle”. Making the on looking crowd let out disappointed murmurs. Dionysus walked up to the hero and put a hand on his shoulder.

”Come on Clark, do us this favour and we’ll give you the biggest celebration you’ll experince in a life time, with the finest wine and feast, our best music and dancers and if you want you can take to bed anyone you fancy, we don’t judge” Dionysus offered.

Clark took a moment looking around at the crowd surrounding him until his eyes landed on you for a swift moment. He then turned back to Dionysus and said ”Very well, i shall do you this favour”. Once again the crowd including you broke out in cheers and applause for the demigod.

The very next day gifted Clark with a sword, armour and food by Dionysus as he and his followers saw off the hero on his way to save them from the threat of the cyclops.

I didn’t take long for Clark to return as he was back at the camp by next day. He came back in the afternoon covered from head to toe in dirt, dust and a little cyclops blood. Throwing the red painted sword by Dionysus feet.

”Well done” Dionysus complimented looking at the blood drenched sword. Dionysus then turned towards you ”Y/n, take our hero somewhere he can wash off” he commanded. ”Yes, lord Dionysus” you said with a quick bow. He then turned back to Clark and said ”When you return, we feast”.

You went and collected a basket with a bottle of scented oil, a strigil (a tool they used in ancient greece to wash themselves) and a new chiton. ”This way, my lord” you said to Clark and started guiding him through the forest. ”Please, just Clark is fine” he said humbly following you.

You guided him to a secluded pond. ”Impressive, how did you find this place so quickly?” Clark complimented. ”My mother was a naiad, it’s an instinct” you explained putting down the basket next to the pond.

”Would you like me to bring you anything else?” you asked Clark as he started undressing out of the dented armour and dirty chiton. ”You’ve already done enough for me, thank you” he said gentlemanly. Clark was now naked, revealing his muscled body and impressive manhood, which you tried not to look at.

He stepped down in the pond, the water reaching up to his hips. ”Why don’t you join me?” he suggested gesturing towards the water. ”I’d love too, but i have to help the others prepare everything for tonight” you said. ”Come on, only for a short time” Clark tempted. ”Okay” you said with a smile, taking off your chiton and sandals.

Clark watched your naked form with interest as you stepped down in to the water. ”See, it’s nice” Clark said starting to wash himself off using the scented oil you brought for him. You tried not to stare at his oiled up chest but you were 90% sure he caught you looking but he didn’t say anything, he only smirked.

You relaxed in the cool water for a while until you remembered you needed to get back to the others. You climbed out of the pond and started putting on your clothing once again. ”Thanks for the company, hope i’ll see you tonight” Clark said. ”Hope, i’ll see you too” you said and started walking through the forest back towards camp.

That night the music rang loudly through the forest as you celebrated the death of cyclops and your new hero, Clark. You drank and danced wildly with your friends. Some others were already passed out from drinking, some were gambling and playing games and one couple were fucking against a tree.

You saw Clark sitting on a pillow next to Dionysus talking, goblet in hand. You made your way over to the olympian and the demigod. ”Y/n” Dionysus exclaimed happily as he noted your presence. He patted a pillow next to him saying ”Come sit down”.

You took the offer sitting down next to the god, he made your empty goblet instantly refill and put an arm around you. ”I was just telling Clark of my inner circle” Dionysus revealed and continued ”Y/n, here you’ve met, he is my and Ariandne’s favourite attendant and friend” he said sweetly.

”Also he has a body as if sculpted by Pygmalion, carved and smoothed to absolute perfection. You should hope to have a look upon it someday” Dionysus said taking another sip from his goblet.

”Actually i already have” Clark stated boldly making Dionysus spill some wine on himself. ”Y/n, joined me for a swim in the pond” Clark explained making your cheeks heat up slightly. ”Is that so?” Dionysus questioned looking towards you.

”Well, i’ve got to go find Ariadne” Dionysus said getting up leaving you and Clark. ”Are you and Dionysus-?” Clark started but you cut him off saying ”No, he and Ariadne just have a very open relationship”. ”How has your night been?” you then questioned the hero.

”Enjoyable but i’ve never been much of a party person” he said then taking a sip from his cup. ”I get it, before i came here i wasn’t either” you told him and then got an idea. ”Wanna go for a walk for some peace and quiet?” you asked. ”Sure, i’d love too” Clark said and the two of you stood up and walked off in to the forest behind you bringing your goblets with you.

You walked and talked for a while, drinking until your goblets were didn’t have a single drop left in them. Dionysus must’ve brought out the strong stuff because you and Clark were stumbling around and slurring your speech, you were laughing loudly at each others stories, sitting very close together.

Finally the two of you ended up behind some bushes close by to the party. You started to passionately make out, you laying on your back in the soft grass and Clark on top of you. Clark tore open your chiton and undressed you, leaving your naked form beneath him.

He then took off his own clothes revealing his muscular body and his hard cock. Clark took his hand and brought it to your mouth, you sucked on his fingers to get them wet, then he brought his moist fingers to your enterance and started pushing finger inside you.

You let out a small gasp as Clark started to finger you open, he added another fiinger and then another until you were ready to take him. Clark spit in to his hand and rubbed it over his erect manhood.

”It’s time i claim my reward” Clark said spreading your legs, he lined himself up with you and started pushing his hard cock in to your warmth. Clark loved the seeing the face you made as his cock slowly filled you up.

”Fuck your so big” you hissed as the demigod was fully sheated deep inside you. He then slowy started moving pushing himself in and out of you as a wave of pleasure started washing over you.

Your legs were wrapped around Clark as he thrusted in to you. ”I’m gonna fuck your little nymph hole full with my seed” Clark groaned in to your ear and placed kisses all along your neck. The demigod started speeding up his thrusts.

”Clark, fuck yeah! Take me” you said in ecstasy grabbing at his back as he fucked your hole. Both of your bodies had started gleaming from sweat as he mounted you under the moonlight, as his reward for defeating the cyclops.

Clark’s thrusts became rougher as he wanted to take you like a real demigod would, he loved how your walls clenched around his thick cock. He brutally fucked you with all the strength of his godly heritage to bring you to your release.

You let out breathy moans as Clark pounded your gaping hole, thrusting against your prostate. You felt yourself getting close to your orgasm. You dug your nails in to the grass below as Clark’s cock made you see Mount Olympus.

”Clark, i’m gonna cum” you said panting heavily making Clark thrust deeper as he wanted to push you over the edge. Then your cock started spraying cum all over your and Clark’s stomachs. Clark’s own release was getting close.

”I’m gonna plant my seed deep inside you” Clark moaned and his rough thrusts became uneven and sloppy. Clark delivered one last deep stroke in to you and he erupted inside you, he flooding your insides with his cum.

Both of you panted heavily and Clark rolled over and layed next to you in the grass. ”You were amazing” Clark praised while softly stroking your cheek. The two of you then used your torn clothes as blankets as you cuddled close together and you both fell asleep under the starry sky.

#clark kent x male reader #clark kent x male!reader #superman x male reader #superman x male!reader #dc comics x male reader #dc x male reader #x male reader #male reader #x male!reader #justice league x male reader #clark kent x male reader smut #male reader smut #x male reader smut

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jgracie · 4 months

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THE MONSTER’S GONE, HE’S ON THE RUN AND YOUR DADDY’S HERE

masterlist | rules

in which jason is a hero in more ways than one

pairings jason grace x fem!reader

warnings reader is afab/can get pregnant

on the radio . . . beautiful boy (darling boy) (john lennon)

an my blog has become baby fever central so naturally i had to deliver 🫡, shoutout to anya ( @puffoz ) for helping me name the eldest grace daughter <3

The night after you told Jason you were pregnant with your first child, you’d woken up to the sound of sniffles coming from a certain someone sleeping right next to you. At first, you were confused - Jason had been ecstatic a few hours ago when you broke the news to him, why was he crying now? Then it hit you.

He was scared.

Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, champion of Hera, ex-praetor of Camp Jupiter, Pontifex Maximus and so many other titles you never cared for, was scared. Tenderly, you’d coaxed him out of the ball shape he was currently in (arms wrapped around his knees, head sitting in between his legs) and asked what was wrong, even though you already had an inkling of an idea as to what the matter was.

When he didn’t answer, you didn’t ask again. Knowing Jason like the palm of your hand meant staying silent and waiting for him to be ready to tell you, as expressing and talking about his emotions has been a struggle he only recently began to deal with.

With your hand gently rubbing his back, Jason replied, his voice barely above a whisper, “do you think I’ll be a bad dad?” Only after the question left his lips did Jason make eye contact with you, his eyes glistening with the tears they once held.

Anyone who grew up the way Jason did would naturally have their doubts about their parental abilities: how was he supposed to take care of a baby when he didn’t even know what it was like to be taken care of as a baby? However, you knew the truth.

“No,” you said. It was a simple answer, full of certainty and confidence, “no, Jason, I don’t think you’ll be a bad father. In fact, I know you’ll be a good one. You aren’t your upbringing - you’re kind, caring and hold so much love in your heart for everyone and everything around you despite the circumstances the Fates put you through. Trust me when I say you’ll be the best dad.”

You were, of course, right. Despite all the hardships that come with pregnancy, yours was a breeze thanks to Jason. Throughout the entirety of the nine months you spent carrying your child, he was nothing but supportive. He’d always buy you whatever food you were craving at whatever time (no matter how strange it was), he’d give you massages, he’d comfort you when you were feeling down and so much more.

The next time Jason cried was in the hospital when your baby had arrived. Natalia June Grace was born at 9:47AM and was everything you wished for and more. As Jason stared into her eyes, the eyes she’d inherited from him, he was filled to the brim with conviction: he was going to be the best dad he could possibly be for his precious Talia.

Despite this, Jason would be lying if he said he didn’t have his hard times. He’d be lying if he said he never woke up in the middle of the night, sweaty as he reached for his glasses and reminded himself that the nightmares aren’t real, they don’t define him, he is not Zeus, he is not Jupiter, he is Jason.

Being Jason meant being an excellent father. In Natalia's eyes, Jason hung the moon and the stars - no one could compare to her father. They had a bond like no other and were inseparable from the minute they met. Everywhere Talia went, Jason followed. Dance recital? He had front row tickets and lots of storage on his phone to film every second of it. Impromptu tea party with her barbies? Jason was there, clad in a tutu as he poured invisible tea into their cups. To you, the fact that Natalia viewed him as her hero was no surprise. Jason, however, tended to need some reminding.

“Mommy!” You heard your daughter yell as soon as she and Jason made their way inside your cozy apartment. While your husband locked the door, your daughter ran to the kitchen and gave you a bone crushing hug. Immediately, you let go of the whisk you were holding and hugged back, unable to believe it was now almost six years since she had been born. Time flies when you’re having fun!

Running your fingers through her hair, you said, “Talia, how was school today? I really missed you!” She replied with a quick ‘good’ before going to sit on the dining table, princess themed bag clutched tightly in her little hands as she yapped to you about everything that had happened at school that day. You smiled, admiring the way your daughter managed to breathe life into the most mundane things.

Just as she was beginning to tell you about her current crush, Mikey, and how he shared his KitKat with her during lunch, Jason appeared, bouquet of flowers in hand as he took your own and pressed a kiss onto the back of it.

“Hi honey, I missed you loads today. Got you these ‘cause I noticed the others started wilting,” your smile widened at this gesture: only your husband would be paying that much attention to the flowers scattered around the house. You gave him a peck on the lips before taking the bouquet from him and going to place it in a vase. While you were doing so, you could hear Jason and Natalia having a conversation.

“Do you want me to put your bag in your room, baby?” He asked.

“No thank you daddy, I wanna show you and mommy something first,” she replied. Then, turning around, she yelled, “mommy, come! I wanna show you and daddy what I did at school today!”

You obliged, and you and Jason watched as she rummaged in her school bag before pulling out a single piece of paper and handing it to you. On it, in big bold letters, was the title, ‘My Hero’.

“Read it so daddy can know too!” She squealed, nearly jumping out of her seat in excitement. You stared at the picture of a tall, blond man and a little girl in pigtails she’d drawn to accompany the paragraph she’d written on this topic and felt your heart swell with warmth.

Glancing at Jason for a second, you read, “my hero is my daddy. He is my hero because he always plays with me and gets rid of the monsters under the bed when I go to sleep. I love my daddy very much.”

After you’d finished reading, Natalia looked up at Jason expectantly, a big smile plastered on her face as she waited to hear his reaction. However, her smile dropped when she saw tears roll down his cheeks.

Now pouting, she turned to you for answers, “why is daddy sad?”

You smiled, delicately cupping her face in your palm, “daddy’s not sad, babes, he’s actually really happy. Sometimes, when people are super happy, they cry. Your worksheet means a lot to him, he’s very touched,” at your words, she brightened up.

Natalia then took the paper from you and gave it to Jason, “you can hang it on your wall, daddy, since you like it so much!” She proceeded to give him a peck on the cheek and ran off to her room, not fully understanding exactly how much her simple worksheet meant to Jason.

That was the third time Jason cried: when he realised he wasn’t his upbringing, or Zeus, or Jupiter, or any of the other monsters that lived under his own bed. He was Jason - a great, loving father who put his family above all and was a hero in more ways than one.

#jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace #jason grace x fem reader #pjo #pjo x reader #jason grace fanfic #jason grace drabble #percy jackson x reader #dad jason grace #dad jason grace x reader #cynwrites

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vampiresfromxenon · 1 year

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I Wanted To

Astarion x gn! Reader/Tav

Almost 3.5k words

Tags: Fluff, kisses, cuddling, angst, biting mention, no use of y/n, words of affection (so much sappiness), soft! Astarion, they’re in love your honor!!

CW: Slight mentions of SA and trauma (extremely minor, incredibly light piece)

Summary: You and Astarion decide to start your relationship over once you both confess your feelings. It's a mutual decision to take things extremely slow, celebrating little victories of intimacy here and there. Tonight, you can't hide your words of affection as he becomes more comfortable and vulnerable around you.

It’s been a few months traveling with this rowdy crew, and you can’t help but smile thinking about how much you love them all. Granted, they all piss you off on the daily, what from Shadowheart and Lae’zel attempting to kill each other, to Gale eating your favorite pair of enchanted gloves, but you can’t help yourself from smiling every time you think about how close you’ve all grown. One particular member in the party you have become very close with stands out a bit more than the rest, and thoughts about him are enough to make you unsettlingly giddy.

For the longest time, you and the pale elf fought your feelings, too cold to warm up to each other. You both had a wicked past, something that tainted your current perceptions of love and romance. His may have been far more extreme than yours, but regardless of that fact, your feelings and emotions were still valid. For a short few weeks, you found yourselves being extra intimate, dismissing it all as stress relief and nothing more. Those little excursions were merely there as a form of self protection: He gained your trust and protection, and you felt less alone and vulnerable at night. Or, so you thought, until you noticed how distant he was, his eyes never meeting yours every time he sought to pleasure you.

It wasn’t until recently that these barriers slowly began to be chipped away for the both of you, your infatuation not only becoming more real, but unfortunately, more terrifying. One night, you approached him, being brave and understanding if he had other thoughts about what you two could be. It was late, most of the camp either asleep or preparing for bed. You approached him, a soft hand on his shoulder, even though he was well aware you were there. What you were there for though, remained a mystery to him. He turned, smiling at you, taking your hand and kissing it affectionately. As your heart raced, you began a discussion with him, asking his thoughts and feelings about your ‘connection’ rather than just bombarding him with an overwhelming confession of love.

He seemed stunned to say the least, unsure of what to say or how to feel. It was strange for him, his cold heart beating a little faster, feeling a little warmer at the sight of you in front of him, actually seeing him for him and not just another plaything. All these feelings were bubbling up inside him because, for the first time in a long time, someone not only asked him what he wanted in a romantic relationship, but they respected anything he said on that subject matter. In all his nervousness, he felt that he could be honest in his reciprocation to see how far you two could go, this time with real feelings. That was a few weeks ago, and all this time since has been magical.

You haven’t intimately slept together since just before that night, instead establishing boundaries and focusing more on the non-sexual ways to be intimate, loving, and kind. He loves the way your hand brushes his, the way your fingers interlace with his as he moves in to hold your hand. You love the way his hand lands on your back, stretching to your hip to pull you closer to him, especially when meeting new people from town to town. While you still struggle with eye-contact in general, it feels easier around him, especially now since he has found himself to be more comfortable actually looking at you, taking in your appearance and being more present in your conversations.

For many nights now, you’ve been cuddled up nicely in one or the other’s tent, fingers interlaced, hands gently wrapped around hips, legs occasionally intertwined. He still continues to feed on you, though he makes sure to gain your permission before bed each night. On the nights where you felt too tired, too drained mentally even, he would leave you be, hoping to keep you as comfortable as possible. Those nights were just as romantic, as you could feel his breath against your neck as he cuddles you tightly, his lips on your shoulder as he falls into the soft rhythm of sleep.

Tonight didn’t start off any differently from any other night; you both gathered in his tent, doing your nightly routines as per usual (always before promptly passing out until the next morning hit you like a boulder). Most nights he would wear a nice, silky pajama set, one he purchased from an unreasonably expensive fashion designer in a small village. You didn’t have as luxurious of pajamas, but yours still covered most of your body, keeping you feeling safe and snuggled up each night.

Neither of you expected that this night would change everything.

He’s standing off to the side of your shared bedroll, changing into his pajamas while your back is turned to him, fiddling with the blanket you both share. You notice just how used this blanket is, and you realize that it might have been the only thing giving him comfort, the feeling of security over the past 200 or so years. Astarion was far from one to share, whether it was his feelings or his belongings, and it isn’t long before you have a second realization: you are possibly the only person to have ever slept with that blanket besides him. Your fingers gently roll the decaying fabric between your fingers, taking in all of his memories that have been exhausted on the threads.

You hear him walking over and you drop your thoughts about the blanket, not wanting to pry into more of his distressing past. He kneels, picking up the blanket and sliding next to you, your bodies touching in an instant. Turning your attention away from the blanket, you look up to see your love is shirtless, moving around in the bedroll, trying to be more comfortable at your side.

You know just how insecure he is about his scars from Cazador, that disgusting, vile, treacherous bitch, but it was so lovely to see him stepping out of his comfort zone. While you’re quick to notice this new change, he’s even quicker to notice your reaction. Diving back into his comfort charm, he smirks at you, loading a phrase to protect his vulnerable side.

“Like what you see, darling?” His eyes flutter to the side a bit, and you immediately notice his withdrawal from the conversation. With a calm and gentle hand, you caress his cheek, turning his attention back to you.

“I always love what I see…” You smile, your eyes looking at him in such a way that your face beams with pride, though you try to find a balance between that and neutral so as to not overwhelm him. To see just how much he trusts you, is willing to open up to you and be vulnerable… Your heart can barely take it. In a quiet voice you’re sure to check in on him, wanting to make sure he feels secure in his choice. “Don’t feel you have to do this for me though, okay?”

His hand reaches up to hold yours against his cold cheek, his stare suddenly becoming more present. “I wanted to.” His voice is low, his hand taking yours off his face as he leans in gently to kiss your palm. He kisses your forehead before moving to lie down, making himself comfortable in your small space.

You sit there for a moment, considering your options. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but you want him to be aware that you feel the same sense of shared comfort. As he turns to the side, looking at a book he left on the ground earlier, you move to remove your shirt, tossing it off to the side. He moves the book away from you both so you don’t roll into it in the night. Turning back to face you, he pauses, taking in the sight of your bare chest. He looks up at you, tilting his head, nearly asking you the same question you just asked him.

Before he can say anything, you lean slightly closer to him, your voice a loud whisper. “I wanted to.” His eyes soften, and you can tell he’s flattered by this display of intimacy. You begin to crawl under the old blanket with him, and he pulls you close, his hand around your waist. The feel of his cold, soft skin against your bare back is enough to send shivers down your spine, and you realize that this must be so close to what heaven feels like. His free hand reaches up and caresses your jaw before tangling in your hair, gently playing with it as he knows it helps you fall asleep.

Your hand rests on his bare chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat slowing down as he continues to relax in your care. You lie there for a while, trying to sleep, but something is keeping you awake. Perhaps it’s the looming threat that you could all die soon in brutally vicious ways, or the fact that you don’t want to waste a single second enjoying this time with your new lover. Suppose you’ll never truly know.

Regardless of what is keeping you up on this night, you begin to feel a little restless, unable to lie there in that position for too much longer without your arms going numb. You sit up a little, leaning on the arm you’ve been lying on, trying to not wake your companion. However, his body shifts with you, and it appears that he is still just as awake as you are.

“I didn't wake you, did I?” You whisper in a worried voice.

“Not in the slightest, my dear. Unable to sleep tonight, as I am sure you understand.”

You sigh, still leaning over him slightly, his hand that was once on your waist now drawing circles on your shoulder blade, the hand in your hair now resting on your hip. You want to speak, but you find yourself getting lost in the way his face looks in the moonlight peeking through his tent flap. It frames his face so perfectly, almost as if this scene was sculpted by the Gods. He notices your sudden distance, and he is quick to check in on you.

“Are you alright, love?” He asks, a tinge of concern in his voice, once again tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“Sorry… Yes, yes. More than alright.” You reassure him, not breaking your focus. A beat; he attempts to determine what’s on your mind. Thinking he’s found it, he smirks.

“Admiring how beautiful I am?”

“Yeah… Just looking at creases around your eyes…” You say in a loving tone, not even remotely aware of how backhanded the comment you just made sounds.

He begins to shuffle, pushing you away, offended by your lack of sincerity. “Alright, there’s no need-”

“No! Not like that.” You chuckle, snapping back into reality. You grab him, pulling him back to you, his head pressing back into the pillow below you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just-” You can’t stop yourself from laughing a little at the sight of your pouting partner underneath you.

You notice just how unamused he is, and you abruptly stop laughing, clearing your throat and composing yourself in a more serious manner. Your hand reaches up and the pad of your thumb brushes against his crows feet, your mind falling back into your feelings of love and adoration for him.

“The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh… The way your eyes sharpen when you’re glaring at me, like you are right now… The way they soften every time I walk in the room… I love those wrinkles, they’re such a beautiful part of you.” He relaxes again, taking in your words, though still unhappy at your mention of his wrinkles, making him feel old. Though, no matter how much he hates his aging characteristics being brought up, he will never turn away any form of flattery.

“Well, augh. You really are sweet, aren’t you? But I’m sure you like more of me than just my dreaded wrinkles.” He was definitely fishing for compliments, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t aware of just how much you wanted to smother him in loving words. You lean forward and kiss his crows feet on both sides, surprising him. Smiling, your thumb traces over his eyebrows, taking in their shape and feel.

“My eyebrows, really? Nothing else catching your eye?” He whines, his hands going back to resting on your shoulder blade and hip. He can feel your body shake as you laugh, your head falling forward towards his chest as you continue to giggle from his pouting. You bring your head back up, focusing on his face once more.

“One thing at a time, dearest.” You pause, analyzing the shape of his eyebrows. Just how sharp they are, how often he uses them to his advantage when he is charming people. As you continue to gaze at them, he raises one of them, making your heart go crazy.

“You’re so expressive. Your eyebrows are so perfectly shaped, the way you use them like a weapon… I know it’s silly, I know they’re just eyebrows, but they’re your eyebrows, and they mean so much to me.” You trail off, your face flushed with embarrassment as you realize just how overly sentimental your words are. He smiles at you, knowing just how hard you’re trying, and appreciating every second of it. You kiss his eyebrows before quickly moving on.

Your fingers trace along his face, noticing his mole. By now he’s exhausted, you’re three for three with things he’s sensitive about. “Darling, if this is your way of making me feel less upset about not being able to look in mirrors, I must say it’s starting to work.” His words deceive his face and body language, but you still try to abide by his wishes.

Wanting to show your love, without spending too much time on it, you mention how much the mole under his eye suits him, how he would almost seem incomplete without a beauty spot. The usage of ‘beauty’ in ‘beauty spot’ convinced him to let it slide, but the ice you were dreamily skating on was wearing thin. Kissing his mole, you move on once again.

The skin of his nose was soft as you trace the pad of your finger down the bridge of his nose. “Your nose… it’s so sharp. Don’t laugh, but one of my favorite feelings is when I wake up and your nose is either on my back or my neck. I can feel your breathing on my skin, your nose pressed against me while you sleep. It’s so calming, having any little part of you so close to me.” He looks at you a little confused, mostly due to the fact that you’re still here appreciating him. The things you’re saying, they’re so small and insignificant, yet you enunciate each word like it’s the most important thing you’ll ever say. Each word has a purpose, a meaning, and they fall out of your mouth effortlessly; something he still has yet to learn how to do.

You kiss the tip of his nose, your fingers tracing down his face to his smile lines. Oh his smile lines. You just can’t help but adore his smile lines, no matter how much he absolutely hates them. He hates them because they age him, but you love them for all the same reason. To know he laughs, smiles, has any semblance of being happy is enough for you to be overjoyed at the sight of these lines that prove the existence that he has been able to enjoy life enough to have physical proof on his face.

“Don’t you dare.” He teases, though you wish he could bear with you for just a moment to explain your thoughts. Figuring you could do it another time, as tonight has already had enough excitement, you kiss his smile lines and spare him from your honeyed words.

Last, but certainly not least: his lips. Your thumb traces over his lips which are closed together, gently pushing up just enough to where you wonder if he was trying to secretly kiss your thumb. As you continue to run your thumb over his lips, reminiscing on all the times your own experienced his, he takes you by surprise.

Removing the hand from your hip, his thumb graces your lips, and you find yourself trying to inconspicuously kiss at it like he did to you just moments ago. You open your mouth to speak, but he uses his finger to silence you, gently shushing you.

“My turn.” His voice is smooth and tender as his thumb continues to trace over your slightly parted lips. “Your lips… They have always been so soft and inviting.” He pauses, still staring at them.

“I must admit, I despised them at first.” A confused expression crosses your face just before he continues. “They would taunt me on a daily basis, the one thing I couldn’t have no matter how much charm I threw at you. When I was eventually graced with them, I loathed the way my name would be cried out from them, almost as if you were saying it like a prayer. It tore me apart, wanting something I wasn’t sure I actually wanted, or even felt like I deserved…” He trails off, though his gaze remains constant on you.

“How do they make you feel now?” You softly ask, just barely loud enough for even yourself to hear.

He thinks on this for a moment, searching for the proper word.

“Safe.”

He leans up to you, cupping your cheek as he kisses you, the most delicate and loving kiss you two have ever shared. You both pull from the kiss, exercising restraint and respect for your pre-established boundaries. A hand resting on his chest, you encourage him to lie back on the pillow once more, which he does. You lean forward, kissing every part of his face that you mentioned, as well as a few spots just because you wanted to. Kissing his lips again, you pull apart just enough to whisper against his lips.

“I admire everything about you. Every aspect of you is just so lovely… Thank you for being here, with me. I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

He smiles, his fangs poking out this time. His hand moves a strand of hair out of your face as he clears his throat.

“And thank you for all the kisses.” He says, resuming his usual charm. You try to hide your slight disappointment, but you know he is trying his best and you can’t expect him to always meet you halfway, especially in this time of healing.

“Always.” You whisper, lying down next to him as he wraps his arms around you, holding you closely. It’s late, and now that you have this feeling lifted off your chest, you find it easier to sleep. Your heart rate begins to slow, your breathing finding its usual pattern, your lover wrapped up tightly with you.

When you’re on the edge of falling asleep, you feel his head tilting down towards yours, which is resting on his chest. His lips kiss the top of your head, his chin then resting on that same spot. A quiet voice breaks the air, unaware that it still has an audience.

“I love you.”

You freeze, unsure of whether or not you have actually fallen into a dream state, or if you just heard him correctly. In this state of grogginess, your body shifts as you attempt to determine the truth.

“Shit. Did you hear that?”

“Mhm.” You sleepily groan. He lets out a sigh of relief, thinking he’s talking to you in your sleep like he has before. Settling further into the bedroll, making himself more comfortable, he pulls you tighter, finally deciding to rest.

“I love you too.” You break the silence, your voice more awake this time. His eyes flash open, his red irises laser focused on you. You can feel his heart pounding as you rest on his chest, and you lean over and kiss just above his heart.

“Safe.” Is all you can say before promptly passing out, your warm skin slowly heating up his own. He sits there for another moment, taking in the events of today. It was a lot, to say the least, but he felt comfortable and confident in his decisions, and that was almost truly a first for him. His hand finds its way back into your hair, stroking it as he begins to drift off to sleep, for the first time in a long time feeling comfortable, guarded, protected, safe.

Author’s Note:

He’s extremely OOC, I’m 95% sure lmao but I love making characters total softies, even if we don’t see that side of them in the media they’re from. (I'm still in the very beginning of Act 2 so I'm learning a lot about him through this site too)

I’ve never experienced love, I’m also sure that’s obvious- I’ve always wanted to do something like this with someone though (look at their face and kiss all my favorite spots). While I was writing this, I felt so awkward writing such sappy dialogue, but I realized that moments like these aren’t smooth and rehearsed; feelings get mushy and oftentimes people say dumb and dorky things because they’re just so in love. I hope it gets translated that way at least hahaha

My Spotify is fucked because I listen to specific songs on repeat whenever I write. I have probably about 4-5 hours of “Blue Moon” by Billie Holiday logged on there now because of all the time planning, writing, and thinking about this fic- I got this song from Neil’s Astarion playlist, it’s so sweet and loving :)

Edit: So many people are saying he’s actually pretty in character so thank you for the validation because I was nervous 😭

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omgkalyppso · 1 year

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BG3 Act 1 asks

I am intentionally putting the number of the inquiry at the end of each question also because I have a pet peeve that when you copy paste questions into an ask that the number doesn't carry over.

Tell us about your Tav! Name, class and subclass, race, pronouns. Do you have a headcanon for where they're from? Their family? Are they a Dark Urge? Or did you choose an Origin Character? Was it an easy decision? (1)

Was there something about the character creator that just couldn't capture your Character? Please tell us about their hair, facial hair, tattoos, piercings, disabilities, their trans or intersex body, or anything else you're comfortable sharing. (2)

Has your Character been using their illithid powers? (3)

Do you remember in which order you recruited your companions? Which companion introduction would have felt the most familiar / like home to your Tav / Character? (4)

Do you remember the first humanoid enemy your Character killed? Was it the first person they've ever killed, in your opinion? Would they have been bothered by it? (5)

Were you able to save everyone when the goblins stormed the gates at the Grove? (6)

Did you enter the Grove? (7)

Do you have a favorite member of the Druid Circle? Is it the same as your Character's? (8)

Do you have a favorite member of the Tiefling Refugees? Is it the same as your Character's? (9)

Do you have a favorite member of the Goblin Camp? Is it the same as your Character's? (10)

Do you have a favorite member of the Act 1 Githyanki? Is it the same as your Character's? (11)

Do you have a favorite member of the Zhentarim? Is it the same as your Character's? (12)

Do you have a favorite character from the Underdark? Is it the same as your Character's? (13)

Do you have another NPC you loved from a faction not mentioned above? What about your Character? (14)

How did the situation with the Grove, the Tieflings and the Goblins turn out for your Character? (15)

Did you save Halsin? (16)

What does your Character think of Withers? (17)

How did your Character deal with Wyll, Karlach and Mizora? (18)

Did your Character spend a night with a companion either the night of the party or earlier? Is it someone they have a continued interest in? (19)

How did you deal with The Artist - Oskar Fevras? Did you even encounter him? (20)

What are your Character's thoughts on the strange artifact that was in Shadowheart's possession? Did it jump to your pack because you changed her out of your party? (21)

How did your Character resolve the situation with Sovereign Glut, if you met them? (22)

What are your Character's thoughts on the dream visitor? (23)

Was your illithid tadpole empowered by anything in Act 1? If so, how does your Character feel about that? (24)

Did your Character take the mountain pass? (25)

What was your favorite enemy? Did your Character have any memorable fights or moments in combat that were ripe for headcanons and interpretation? (26)

Who ended up in your Character's most used party? (27)

Did you recruit Scratch the dog? Did you encounter him at all? (28)

Did you adopt an owlbear? Do you have a name for your child? (29)

Do you have other pets as a ranger or in headcanon? (30)

Does your Character have new or old phobias or superstitions that affect their story? (31)

What's your Character's experience with and opinion of Volo? (32)

Has your Character allied with the cult of the Absolute? (33)

How did your Character resolve the situation with Nere and the gnomes? (34)

Has your Character done anything that they regret in Act 1? (35)

Did your Character find the Adamantine Forge? Did they use it? What did they make? (36)

Did your Character find the Necromancy of Thay? How are they handling it / planning to handle it? (37)

Did your Character meet Barcus Wroot? How's he doing? (38)

What does your Character think of Raphael? (39)

Is your Character used to strange dreams from before the events of the adventure? (40)

Is your Character accustomed to being on the road from before the events of the adventure? (41)

Has your Character been to the Underdark from before the events of the adventure? (42)

Asker has a question not from the list. (43)

Asker wants Blogger to choose a question from the list. (44)

I love your oc's! I hope you're enjoying the game as much as I am!

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #long post #feel free to send me asks about étoile

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blarrghe · 1 year

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Strange Feelings in the Party Camp

Ch. 11: All Things End

Oh my God I finally finished it.

Rating: M | Category: M/M/F | Words: 34,880 | Chapters: 11/11

Summary: Alistair is in love with Violet. Violet is sleeping with Zevran. Zevran is too good a friend to Alistair. Violet is too good a friend to Zevran. And can love even really be on the table, when you're all probably going to die?

Chapter Snippet:

It starts in a bed in Denerim.

Morrigan leans over him, candlelight shining in her raven hair.

But that is not the important bed.

The night after they saved Anora, Alistair finds himself in a bed in Denerim. With Violet, with Zevran, with relief clouding his judgement.

He would do anything, anything, just to keep them.

Daff list: @warpedlegacy@rakshadow @rosella-writes @effelants @bluewren @breninarthur @ar-lath-ma-cully @dreadfutures @ir0n-angel @inquisimer @crackinglamb @theluckywizard @nirikeehan @oxygenforthewicked-art @exalted-dawn-drabbles @melisusthewee @agentkatie

#my fic #my writing #strange feelings in the party camp #da:o #dragon age fanfic #alistair #zevran #violet cousland #zevran x alistair #alistair x warden #zevran x warden #zevran x alistair x warden #zevwardenstair #idk how to tag this ship #polyship #dragon age

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 8 months

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(Dark! LC) Loving You Hurts

Pairing: Dark Luke Castellan x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

SUMMARY: When Luke's jealousy gets out of hand.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship.

“We’re having a party tonight. You should come.” the blonde-haired boy walked with you as you collected your breakfast in a tray.

“I don’t know, Sam, maybe.” you keep your answer short, opting not to indulge into the conversation.

Luke’s stare feels obvious despite the physical distance between you, your boyfriend already seated at a table.

“C’mon, you never really come by anymore, not ever since you got with Luke. I know Clarisse will be thrilled to see you again.” he looked at you with hopeful eyes and you felt bad, knowing you’re letting all of your friends down - hanging out with them less and less.

“Luke can come too. And Chris, if he wants to.”

You hesitated for a moment before nodding your head. You seriously doubted Luke would want to go. Sam seemed satisfied enough and after giving you the time and place, he left.

Stress got trapped in your throat when you walked to the table, taking a seat.

“Who was that guy?” Luke asked you nonchalantly, his eyes following Sam as he walked away.

“Luke, you know him. He’s my friend.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

You sighed, fully aware of the interrogation he’s about to put you through. “Ares’ kid. One of Clarisse’s brothers.”

“What did he want?”

“Luke…”

“What? I’m just asking what he wanted.” he replies back, his eyes snapping at you with annoyance. “Now I can’t even ask what a strange guy had to say to my girlfriend?”

You stabbed the food in your plate, feeling your eyes becoming watery.

“He invited us to a party tonight.”

The scoff you received from Luke was loud enough to draw a few heads in your direction and you quickly captured a few slices of bacon, stuffing them in your mouth.

“Us? The way he was talking, it seems like he wanted to invite you. Since you’re his friend, right?” his voice had an edge to it, as if daring you to contradict but you stubbornly kept your attention to your food.

If you looked at him - at the angry frown he most certainly had on - you’d end up crying in front of everyone.

“Luke, please…” you supplicated, “Just let it go, please. I’m not going anyways, okay?”

He looked at you for a long moment, his brown eyes piercing through your soul as he took notice of the tears that were shining in your eyes. His gaze softened, hand reaching for yours.

“Okay.” he said, bringing your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. “I’m sorry.”

You should’ve known that Luke’s jealous streak would never be able to just let something go.

Any hopes of forgetting the situation were shattered when in the next day a fight broke loose at the camp. And of course, Luke was at the epicenter.

You weren’t around but your siblings told how hard Luke punched Sam, which resulted in a broken nose and bloody mess.

And of course that defending your friend resulted in another argument between you and Luke.

“Luke, you’re overreacting.” you pleaded, wanting nothing more than tug on your hair with the despair you were feeling.

“No, you’re being naive. You’re not seeing it the way I see it.”

“I just- I don’t get why you had to do this, Luke!”

“He did this to himself.” he retorted, his hand clenching with anger. “He talked about you, you know? How you deserve someone better.”

Your throat went dry as you gulped. Luke took a step towards you, murderous anger plastered in his face.

“You say he’s just a friend, but I know he wants more than that.” he spited the words, inching closer to you. “He wants to take my place. To be the one you love. But I’m not gonna let that happen, okay?”

His words dimmed into a hushed whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours, his ragged breaths contrasting with your lack of breathing as you held your breath.

“Luke…”

“I won’t let you go. We’re meant to be together, I know it.” he pressed a light kiss on your hairline, ignoring the single tear that escaped your eye.

“And if I have to kill whoever gets in our way, then so be it.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere x reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #dark luke castellan #dark luke castellan x reader #yandere luke castellan #yandere luke castellan x reader

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mageofgoobygrove · 1 month

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following up on that boundaries thing but thats great to hear!! in that case, could i request astarion and/or gale with a partner who doesnt like and doesnt do sex? theyre still affectionate otherwise, they just arent comfortable with sex. ❤️❤️

Imagine…

Astarion with a s/o who isn’t interested in sex.

(a/n: i was going to do both characters but i wanted to give astarion a spotlight since this is the first request i’ve gotten for him! not to mention i had SO many shower thoughts for this prompt. hope you enjoy! also if this went off track…im so sorry. so many thoughts so many thoughtS IM PLAGUED BY THOUGHTS)

Astarion’s relationship with you was strange from the very beginning.

During the tiefling party, he decided to strike. Offer himself to you and lead you down a path for his own safety. He was convinced you’d give yourself to him, he saw how you looked at him. Your eyes said more than any other part of you could.

So, why the bloody hell did you reject him? He managed to conceal his frustration and go on with his night. Perhaps you wanted a piece of Lae’zel, or Gale—it didn’t matter. There was still hope you’d come back.

And come back you did. After the party, you came to his tent with sweet bread. For yourself, of course. You promised not to give him any after he expressed distaste.

Thus, began his relationship with you. Rather than sleep with him, or another member of your camp, you wanted to sit and…spend time together. Talk once the rest were fast asleep, laugh about the little dents throughout your journey together.

He never experienced anything like it. People would come to him, take and take and take. Never was he given something so small, yet so meaningful.

Despite being a vampire, he experienced many firsts with you.

Eventually he offered himself again, teasing that he’d broken your barriers by now. Even then, you said no. And he didn’t understand.

“Well…well, why not?” He felt exasperated.

You stared at him, a little concerned with his response. Maybe you should’ve came clean earlier, but it wasn’t an easy topic.

“I’m not interested,” you stated, processing how to explain without feeling embarrassed. “I’m interested in you, Astarion. I want you, but not in that way. I’ve never wanted anyone in that way.”

For a moment you believed he’d call it quits. It was casual but it’d still hurt. You hadn’t known each other long, but you cared for him.

He didn’t leave. Instead, you only grew closer.

After your interaction with Araj Oblodra, more than a confession happened that night. Astarion took you to the outskirts of camp and opened himself completely. You had already done so, shouldn’t he do the same? But it wasn’t to be even. He found himself longing to tell you the truth, to free himself from the deceit. To express what you made bubble up inside of him.

When you hugged him, it was difficult to let go.

Later in the night you returned to camp and to his tent. As the moon shone, you held each other throughout. It became your new normal, sticking by his side and his by yours.

It was a comfort, existing with you. No pressure of sex, but still a need to keep you happy. And you were happy, either from a deep kiss or a quick peck.

Through some walks, when you were behind the rest, you’d hold hands. You’d share what sweets you found in hopes of finding a taste he’d enjoy. He’d gift you pieces of jewelry he found on bodies and polish them for hours.

Those simple pleasures only strengthened after Cazador’s defeat. When Astarion took you to his grave, he crushed the Szarr ring beneath his boot and spent the rest of the night holding you. As he looked to the stars, your eyes stayed on him.

“Do you wish it was different?” You ask quietly, hand combing through his hair. It wasn’t the question you wanted to ask, but you didn’t have the courage to face the truth.

“No,” he looks to you. His crimson eyes seemed lighter. “This is perfect.”

You smile at his response. He was perfect, flaws and all.

#bg3 #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 #self insert #writing #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion

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justabrunettewhowrites-stuff · 8 months

Text

'Spring Formal'

Clarisse La Rue x DaughterOfAphrodite!Reader

A/N:Never thought I'd actually write something this long but I was watching tiktoks and had an idea 💀 but anyways-

Clarisse La Rue, daughter of Ares, stormed into the Camp Half-Blood Spring Formal with her usual scowl, her outfit glinting in the dim light.She wasn't one for fancy events,but Chiron insisted that it was a chance for demigods to bond.Little did she know,this particular formal would change her perspective on more than just parties.

The pavilion was adorned with twinkling lights, and the scent of ambrosia and nectar wafted through the air. Clarisse scanned the room, her eyes narrowing at the sight of the children of Athena huddled together, discussing tactics for capture the flag. Her gaze shifted to the son of Hermes,sneaking snacks from the refreshment table.

However,what truly caught Clarisse off guard was the vision of beauty that entered the pavilion.You,a daughter of Aphrodite, wearing a breathtaking silver gown that shimmered with every step.The dress clung to your curves,and the delicate straps revealed a hint of your sun-kissed shoulders.

As the night progressed, Clarisse found herself observing from a distance, unable to shake the sense of longing that gripped her. The daughter of Ares was accustomed to battles and conquests, not matters of the heart. She retreated to the edges of the pavilion, silently watching as you twirled and laughed with others.

Clarisse was known for her toughness and combat skills, but beneath that exterior lay a heart that few had glimpsed.But she wasn't about to fall for an Aphrodite kid of all people!

However,Clarisse,as tough as she was,unaccustomed to such beauty, felt a strange flutter in her chest. She couldn't tear her eyes away as you twirled on the dance floor,your laughter echoing like the sweetest melody.

As the night unfolded,Clarisse observed you from a distance,feeling a mix of awe and frustration.She couldn't deny the undeniable pull she felt.But then,her jealousy flared when she noticed you dancing with Luke, another camper,who seemed equally smitten by your charms.

Clarisse scowled,clenching her fists as she watched them glide across the dance floor. A surge of conflicting emotions swirled within her. The daughter of Ares, usually unyielding in battle, found herself grappling with a different kind of conflict—a battle of the heart.

Determined to push aside her unexpected feelings, Clarisse decided to join the dance floor. With her armor clanking, she approached the scene, cutting in between you and Luke.The daughter of Ares extended her hand to you, surprising both herself and the onlookers.

"Mind if I cut in?" Clarisse's usual tone,gruff and authoritative,carried a hint of vulnerability that she never thought she'd reveal.

You,even if momentarily taken aback, smiled and accepted Clarisse's invitation.You two began to dance, a clash of strength and grace.Clarisse struggled to find the right words,but you,with your innate charm, eased the tension.

As they danced, Clarisse's initial jealousy transformed into a realization—an acknowledgment of the unexpected connection she felt with you. The daughter of Ares, known for her battles, found herself engaged in a different kind of skirmish—one that unfolded in the silent language of shared glances and unspoken emotions.

In the midst of the dance, Clarisse mustered the courage to speak. "You look... different tonight." she grumbled, struggling to articulate her thoughts.

You chuckled, the sound like a soft breeze. "Different good or different bad?"

"Good, I guess," Clarisse admitted, surprising herself with the honesty.

As the night progressed,you continued to dance,your movements synchronized in a dance of emotions neither of you fully understood.The daughter of Ares, usually quick to anger, found herself navigating a maze of feelings she had never encountered before.

Eventually, they found a quiet corner where they could talk away from the lively music and curious gazes.

"Why did you dance with Luke?" Clarisse blurted out, unable to contain the question that had been gnawing at her.

Your eyes softened, and you sighed. "Luke asked me, and I didn't want to be rude. But honestly, I'd rather be dancing with someone else."

The admission hung in the air, and Clarisse felt a strange mixture of relief and trepidation. Your gaze met hers, and in that moment, the daughter of Ares realized the vulnerability you both shared.

"Someone else, huh?" Clarisse mumbled, trying to hide the hope in her voice.

You nodded,your smile gentle. "Someone strong,someone who surprises me, someone like you..."

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tenmissedcalls · 1 year

Text

What a Shame

So you’re just friends. Only friends. And you’ve spent months convincing yourself you’re okay with that. (min ho x reader)

wc: 1.4k~

an: so i really didn’t think i would get this invested in this show... but here we are. this is a warmup for a longer fic i might end up posting. enjoy!

You’re starting to regret agreeing to come to this party.

The music is loud, bass pumping in your veins while you down your third mocktail of the evening. You’ve been camped out by the bar this entire evening, and you’re pretty sure the bartender is starting to feel bad for you. But Kitty and Q are nowhere to be seen, and your nerves get the better of you every time you consider joining the crowds on the dance floor.

It doesn’t help that you’re increasingly insecure about getting all dressed up just to sit in the corner all night. Q had absolutely gushed over your outfit when you arrived, but suddenly it feels tight in all the wrong places and it hadn’t even been worth it, not when the guy you’d been hoping to notice you has barely looked your way all evening.

But he certainly noticed Kitty, you think, trying to quell the bitter feelings roiling in your stomach. Not that you blame him. She looks incredible, really, and you’re more than happy for her that she’s starting to move on. You’ve never thought of yourself as the jealous type. It just has your mind turning over itself anxiously and you wave down the bartender for another mocktail to bury your feelings in.

This really isn’t your scene. You’re starting to consider taking the walk back to your dorm, given your curfew has already come and gone. You’re sure your friends wouldn’t mind, wherever they are. So you slide off the bar stool, legs stiff from sitting still for so long, when suddenly a hand grabs yours and you’re pulled face-to-face with a clearly intoxicated Kitty.

“How many drinks have you had?” you ask her, voice raised over the noise. Your mouth pulls itself into a frown when you smell the alcohol on your breath, and you do your best to steer her over to a chair.

“Only… thirteen?” she begins, and the evident panic on your face has her own eyes widening. “No! Thirteen sips, not drinks. Thirteen sips,” she clarifies, and you heave a sigh in relief. You’re not even sure where she’s getting the alcohol from, but you’re sure more than enough students have smuggled in flasks of vodka.

“Are you having fun?” she shouts, louder than she has to, and now your expression is turning back into a frown. It’s not that you’re not trying - you’ve been to more than a few parties, and they’re usually enjoyable enough. But tonight is different, for reasons you can’t really put a finger on.

Kitty notices immediately, even though she’s clearly verging on more than tipsy at this point. Her eyes narrow, and you try to backtrack as quickly as you can by forcing a smile onto your face.

“No! Yes. Yes, I’m having fun,” you blurt out, even though you’re starting to get a headache and the lights on the dance floor suddenly seem far too bright.

Kitty shakes her head. “Don’t lie to me,” she pouts, and you suppress your laughter. “I know how to make you feel better- go find Min Ho,” she says, oblivious to the effect his name has on you.

Suddenly, you’re frozen. Right - he’s the reason you even came to this party in the first place (not that you want to admit it). It’s a strange dichotomy, the way he has you on edge and yet you’ve never felt more at ease than when you’re with him. And almost like it’s fate, you look up and there he is in the crowds.

He looks… good. Far too good. It’s unfair, really, the way he seems to glow in the lights. It’s effortless for him, the way his confidence spills over itself on the dance floor. You think you could lose yourself forever in the cut of his jawline and the spread of his shoulders. You don’t even like the color of the suit he’s wearing and yet he’s pulling it off in a way that makes you weak in the knees. You find yourself wishing for some of the alcohol that Kitty’s been drinking, because your nerves have your stomach twisting itself into knots.

“What do you mean?” you ask Kitty, voice wavering. She rolls her eyes like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is - you feel like you’ve never been vulnerable than when you look at him.

“You like him, don’t you? Go dance with him,” she says like she’s stating something as undeniable as the fact that the sky is blue. You stare at her, bewildered, for long enough that she physically grabs you and pushes you gently toward the dance floor. You don’t even dance, you think distantly to yourself.

You forget that Kitty has this innate ability to pick up on people’s feelings - not that you’re willing to believe have any for him. Yes, he’s so pretty it makes your chest hurt. Yes, you’ve found yourself laughing at his stupid jokes in chemistry class more than you’d like to admit. Yes, you think that underneath his layers and layers of charm and charisma and defensiveness, he’s sweet and funny and smarter than he gives himself credit for. Yes, maybe you’d like to think that between the lingering glances and the lingering touches and the way he smiles at you, he’s caught feelings too. But you also know he’s not the type for commitment, and you’ve entrenched yourself firmly in the friend zone before he can hurt you. You can’t help but compare yourself to all the others falling over themselves for his attention, either.

So you’re just friends. Only friends. And you’ve spent months convincing yourself you’re okay with that.

And then you’re there, pulled into the mass of people dancing. Whatever song is playing is the kind that’ll be stuck in your head for the next week, and when you suck in a breath it tastes like teenage mistakes and rose-tinted memories. It’s almost overwhelming, and you lose sight of him immediately, until-

“You’re here!”

His hand is on your elbow as he pulls you through the crowd, and the physical contact feels like pure electricity running through your nerves. His mouth curls into a smile at the sight of you, and it’s like it’s just the two of you on the dance floor all of the sudden. You don’t know whether you love or hate the fact that he has this effect on you.

“I couldn’t miss the best party of the year, could I?” you tell him, tilting your head up to look at him.

Oh.

It’s like he’s drinking in the sight of you, eyes dragging up and down your face and lingering far too long on your lips. You wonder how embarrassing it would be if your legs gave out right now.

“You… haven’t had anything to drink, have you?” you ask, voice strained, even though you know he would never, especially at his own party. He laughs.

“Of course not. Why do you ask?” he replies, leaning down ever so slightly, and the sudden eye contact has you flustered beyond belief. “What’s got you so shy all of a sudden? Is it me? I have that effect on people.”

“No! Of course not-” you sputter, although you’re sure he can see right through you. Normally you’d laugh his cockiness off, but something about being in such close proximity to him has your thoughts scrambled. Your mind races to think of an excuse for your jitteriness. “I just - we’re trying to help Kitty have her first kiss, and -”

You slap a hand over your mouth. Bad excuse, you chide yourself mentally. You’re sure Min Ho doesn’t want to hear about it, especially since he’s firmly siding with Dae over the whole issue, and something about the phrase first kiss has you feeling almost nauseous.

“Oh, a first kiss. You too?” Min Ho asks teasingly.

“No, I’m just…” you trail off. The truth is you don’t really know why you’re here, when you really think about it. Yes, Kitty had convinced you to come by mentioning that the party was being thrown by Min Ho. But now that you’re here, you’re more than painfully aware of your feelings for him, and you’re at a loss as to how to deal with them. And now you’re thinking about it - kissing him.

You turn your head back towards him, eyes sticking to the dip of his throat disappearing into his collar.

“What a shame,” he whispers, hand still lingering on your arm and you swear you see stars when he leans in closer. Your hand instinctively reaches up to hold onto his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Come find me if you change your mind.”

And then he’s slipping back into the party with a wink, leaving you completely and utterly breathless.

#xo kitty x reader #min ho x reader #KINDA NERVOUS ABOUT POSTING THIS...#pls im so embarrassed abt the effect this show has had on me /lh #i see all of u asking for min ho content tho. so i am here to hopefully provide #(BTW THIS IS A SELF SHIP BLOG DONT FOLLOW ME FOR FICS)#all my moots pls look away /lh #🎐 my writing

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moonselune · 3 months

Note

Hey! Big fan of your work, would you ever do a hurt / comfort fic or snippet for the BG3 boys (rolan included maybe?) for durge after receiving the information / memories of what happened with Kressa Bonedaughter?

https://x.com/bhaalsprincess/status/1806146510930792898?s=46

sorry idk if the link works :(

For this we are going to pretend that Rolan is part of your party, also I realised after I got half way through that I wrote it as the boys hurt/comfort rather than durge hurt/comfort 😅 Hope you still like it tho <3

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

Kressa Bonedaughter’s voice resonates in your mind like a chill wind cutting through the remnants of the day’s warmth. You remember her eyes glinting with unsettling affection as she recounted the memories of your shared past.

That night, you sit by the campfire, the flames casting dancing shadows around you. The others have retired, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The crackling of the fire is a comforting, familiar sound, but it does little to ease the strange unease that Kressa’s words have stirred within you.

Gale approaches, his footsteps soft on the grass. He sits beside you, his presence a steady, comforting weight. For a while, he says nothing, simply watching the flames. Then, he turns to you, and you see the tears glistening in his eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me it was bothering you?" he asks, his voice choked with emotion.

You look at him, surprised. "Gale, I told you, I don't remember any of it. It doesn't bother me."

"But it bothers me," he says, the tears spilling over. "The thought of what you went through… what she did to you… It tears me apart inside."

You reach out, taking his hand in yours. "Gale, it's in the past. I survived. I'm here now, with you. That’s all that matters."

He shakes his head, his grip tightening around your hand. "No, it's not that simple. The pain, the suffering—you shouldn't have had to endure any of it. And the fact that you don't remember… It scares me. What else might be lurking in your past? What other horrors did you endure?"

His tears fall freely now, and seeing him like this, so vulnerable, breaks something inside you. You pull him into your arms, holding him tightly as he cries against your shoulder.

"It's alright," you whisper, your own voice trembling. "I'm alright. You don't have to cry for me."

"I can't help it," he murmurs, his words muffled against your shoulder. "I love you, and the thought of you in pain… It hurts so much."

You hold him close, rocking slightly, the fire crackling softly beside you. The weight of his emotions, the depth of his love—it grounds you in a way you hadn't realized you needed.

"I'm here now," you say again, more firmly this time. "And I'm not going anywhere."

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. His tears have left tracks down his cheeks, and his eyes are red, but there's a fierce determination in his gaze.

"I know," he says, his voice steadier now. "But promise me something. If you ever remember… if those memories ever come back… don't face them alone. Come to me. Let me help you."

You nod, the sincerity in his eyes making it impossible to refuse. "I promise."

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, and for a moment, the world feels right again. As you sit by the fire, holding each other, you feel a sense of peace. The past may be dark and filled with pain, but the present, with Gale’s love, it shines brightly enough to keep the shadows at bay.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

You return to camp, your body exhausted but your mind buzzing with fragments of memories and emotions, stirred up by the wicked Kressa's words. As you approach the campfire, you see Astarion pacing around it, his movements agitated and furious. His usually composed demeanor is shattered, replaced by a storm of emotions. He looks up as you approach, his eyes blazing with anger.

"How dare she," he spits, his voice trembling with rage. "How dare she do that to you!"

You raise an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on your lips. "Astarion, I don't even remember it. It's like hearing a story about someone else."

His fury only intensifies at your nonchalance. "A story about someone else?" he repeats incredulously. "It was you! She tortured you and you act like it doesn't matter!"

You can’t help but be amused by his passion, which only serves to infuriate him further. "Astarion, it's in the past. I can't remember it, so it doesn't affect me."

He stops pacing and steps closer, his eyes burning with intensity. "It affects me," he says through gritted teeth. "The thought of you suffering like that… it's unbearable. I wish I could kill her all over again, make her pay for every moment of pain she put you through."

You reach out, placing a hand on his arm. "But she's gone, Astarion. We defeated her. It's over."

His muscles are tense under your touch, and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "You don't get it," he says, his voice softer but still filled with anger. "I care about you. I can’t just brush it off like you can."

You squeeze his arm gently, feeling the tension slowly ebbing away. "I know you care," you say, your voice gentle. "And I appreciate it more than you know. But right now, what I need is to focus on the present, on what we can control."

He looks into your eyes, his anger giving way to concern. "And what if those memories come back? What if you start to remember everything she did to you?"

You take a deep breath, the possibility of those memories surfacing a distant, unsettling thought. "If they do, then I’ll deal with it. And I’ll have you by my side to help me through it."

He pulls you into a tight embrace, his earlier anger dissolving into a protective, fierce love. "Always," he murmurs into your hair. "I’ll always be here for you."

You hold him close, the warmth of his body grounding you. "Thank you, Astarion. For caring so much."

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. "You deserve to be cared for," he says firmly. "You deserve to be protected from monsters like her."

You smile, touched by his words and the depth of his feelings. "And you deserve to find peace, too. We both do."

"Yes," He nods, his expression softening. "Yes, we do."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

Kressa Bonedaughter’s words echo in your mind long after the battle has ended. Her disturbing attachment to you, the tales of relentless experiments, and her twisted pride in your resilience—these are things you can’t fully grasp due to the dark void where your memories should be. But now, she lies defeated at your feet, her body a testament to the horrors she wrought.

As you take a moment to catch your breath, you notice Wyll standing over her body. His face is a mask of rage, and his sword rises and falls in a relentless, brutal rhythm. He’s attacking her lifeless form with a fury that is both shocking and heartbreaking.

“Wyll,” you call out, your voice tinged with concern. “She’s dead. It’s over.”

But he doesn’t seem to hear you. His strikes continue, each one more forceful than the last, as if he’s trying to obliterate every trace of her existence. The sound of metal against flesh and bone is sickening, and you can see the wild, almost desperate look in his eyes.

You step closer, your voice firmer. “Wyll, stop. She’s dead!”

Still, he doesn’t respond. It’s as if he’s in a trance, lost in his own world of vengeance and pain. You can’t stand to see him like this, consumed by a rage that threatens to devour him whole. Summoning your strength, you reach out and grab his arm, pulling him back.

“Wyll, look at me!” you shout, your voice cutting through the haze of his fury.

He finally stops, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes are wild, filled with a mix of rage and sorrow. He looks down at Kressa’s mutilated body, then back at you, as if seeing you for the first time.

“She’s dead,” you repeat softly. “It’s over.”

He shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes. “It will never be over. Not after what she did to you.”

You feel a pang of guilt and sorrow. “I don’t remember, Wyll. Whatever she did, it’s gone from my mind.”

“That doesn’t change what happened,” he says, his voice breaking. “It doesn’t change the fact that she tortured you, experimented on you like you were nothing. And you don’t even remember…”

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to reach him. “I know it’s horrible, but killing her over and over again won’t change the past. We need to move forward. We need to find your father."

He drops his sword, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I just… I can’t let it go. The thought of you suffering like that… it’s too much.”

You step closer, placing a hand on his arm. “We all carry our burdens, Wyll. But we have to find a way to live with them, not let them destroy us.”

He looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, sadness, and something softer—concern, perhaps, or even love. “You’re stronger than you know,” he says quietly. “Stronger than any of us. But I can’t help but feel that you shouldn’t have had to be.”

You squeeze his arm gently. “Thank you, Wyll. For caring so much. But we have to keep moving forward. Together.”

He nods slowly, the fire in his eyes dimming but not extinguished. “You’re right. We can’t let the past dictate our future. But I promise you this—I will never let anyone hurt you like that again.”

“I believe you,” you say, offering him a small, reassuring smile. “And I appreciate it, my love.”

With a final look at Kressa’s lifeless body, Wyll steps back, his breathing finally beginning to steady. The rage that had consumed him ebbs away, replaced by a weary resolve.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

Kressa Bonedaughter’s twisted affection for your resilience, her pride in your endurance through countless experiments—these revelations hang over you like a dark cloud. Though the memories she described are shrouded in the void left by your lost past, they disturb you in ways you can’t quite articulate.

Back at camp, you notice a subtle shift in Halsin’s behavior. He hovers close to you, his eyes constantly scanning your surroundings, as if expecting danger to strike at any moment. When you sit by the fire, he sits beside you, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders. His presence is a comforting weight, but there's an intensity in his gaze that wasn’t there before.

That night, as you lie in your bedroll, you sense Halsin’s watchful eyes on you. You turn slightly, peeking through your lashes, and confirm your suspicion—he’s sitting nearby, his eyes fixed on you, his expression a mix of worry and determination. This has been happening every night since the encounter with Kressa, and it’s starting to wear on you.

After a while, you decide you can't ignore it any longer. You sit up, your eyes meeting his. “Halsin, why are you watching me sleep?”

He starts, clearly caught off guard, and then sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, my heart, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” you say softly. “I’ve noticed you doing this for a few nights now. Why?”

Halsin’s shoulders sag slightly, and he moves to sit closer to you, his hand reaching out to take yours. “After what Kressa said, about what she did to you, I just… I can’t stop thinking about it. About the pain you must have endured.”

You squeeze his hand gently. “But I don’t remember any of it, Halsin. It’s just a story to me.”

“To you, maybe,” he replies, his voice thick with emotion. “But to me, it’s a nightmare I can’t shake. The thought of you being hurt, experimented on like that… it’s unbearable. I feel like I failed you, even though I wasn’t there.”

“Halsin, you couldn’t have done anything. You didn’t even know me then.”

“That doesn’t change how I feel now,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. “I love you. And the idea of you being in pain, of suffering alone… I can’t bear it.”

You’re touched by the depth of his feelings, but also concerned. “Halsin, you can’t keep watching over me like this. You need to rest too. We both do.”

He nods slowly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “I know. It’s just… difficult. I want to protect you. To make sure you’re safe.”

“I appreciate that more than you know,” you say, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “But we need to find a balance. We can’t let the past, even one I don’t remember, control our present.”

He returns your kiss, his touch warm and reassuring. “You’re right,” he murmurs against your lips. “I just… I care so much. Sometimes it feels overwhelming.”

You rest your forehead against his, your eyes closing as you take comfort in his presence. “We’ll get through this together. But promise me you’ll try to sleep tonight.”

He hesitates for a moment, then nods. “I promise. But if you ever feel uneasy, if you ever remember anything, please tell me. Let me be there for you.”

“I will,” you promise, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. “And thank you, my heart. For everything.”

You settle back into your bedroll, and this time, Halsin lies down beside you, holding you close. His presence is a shield against the darkness, and as you drift off to sleep, you feel a sense of peace, knowing that you’re not alone.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Rolan:

As you make your way back to camp, you notice Rolan off to the side, his usually poorly hidden irritated demeanour now replaced with visible irritation. He’s pacing, muttering to himself, his expression dark and brooding. You approach him cautiously, sensing that something is deeply troubling him.

“Rolan, love,” you say gently, “is everything alright?”

He stops and looks at you, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. “No, everything is not alright,” he snaps, his voice sharper than usual.

You’re taken aback by the intensity of his reaction. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

He runs a hand through his hair, his agitation palpable. “It’s what that…that monster did to you,” he says, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage. “The things she said, the things she did. It’s… it’s unbearable.”

You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Rolan, I don’t remember any of it. It’s like it happened to someone else. I’m fine, really.”

“Fine?” he echoes incredulously, his eyes narrowing. “You think you’re fine because you don’t remember it? That doesn’t change the fact that it happened! That you were tortured, experimented on like some… some animal!”

You can feel the frustration boiling inside him, the helplessness he feels. “Rolan, I understand that it’s upsetting, but—”

“No, you don’t understand!” he interrupts, his voice rising. “You can’t understand because you don’t remember! But I do. I heard her. I saw the look in her eyes when she talked about what she did to you. And it makes me sick.”

You reach out, placing a hand on his arm, trying to ground him. “I know it’s hard, but we defeated her. She can’t hurt anyone anymore. And I have you and the others to help me through whatever comes next.”

He looks at you, his expression softening just a bit, but the anger still simmering beneath the surface. “I just… I can’t stand the thought of you suffering like that. Of anyone hurting you.”

Your heart aches for him, for the pain he’s feeling on your behalf. “Rolan, I appreciate how much you care. It means a lot to me. But we have to focus on the present, on what we can control. And right now, we’re together, and we’re safe.”

He takes a deep breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “I know. It’s just… hard to let go of the anger. To think about what you went through.”

You squeeze his arm gently. “We’ll get through this together. One step at a time.”

He looks at you, his eyes searching yours, and finally nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I just… it’s hard.”

You smile softly. “I know. And it’s okay. We all have our breaking points. But we’ll support each other, no matter what.”

He pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly. “Thank you. For understanding. For being here.”

You hold him close, feeling the warmth of his embrace. “Always."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Oof this was a lot, my poor babies, who would put you through such a thing (it was me, I did, and I'll do it again)

Hope y'all enjoyed it - Seluney xox

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