I love how much everyone loves the Dark!Bg3 series like I am living for it but we all probably need a therapist (not me I will only make us worse - so maybe me then).
So I did do a very similar request to this with companions coming to rescue you so I'll do a little part two to this focused on the aftermath.
Also did this gender neutral as I know a lot of you guys out there prefer it so hope the smutty parts are okay <3
MDNI | NSFW
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─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
For: Conqueror!Minthara, MotherSuperior!Shadowheart, God!Gale, Ascended!Astarion, Naturist!Halsin
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CW: Controlling, manipulation, murder, coercion, torture depictions of gore, blood, smut (all consensual), injury, illness, possession, jealous, dead bodies, this one is all types of f*cked up guys
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Conqueror Minthara:
The chamber had grown silent, save for the echo of Karlach's ragged breaths and the occasional crack of a whip or the scream of agony that had been ripped from her throat. Minthara had indulged herself in a slow, deliberate display of cruelty, every lash and torment drawn out for maximum effect.
You were forced to watch kneeled beside Minthara's feet, she encouraged you to look into the tiefling's eyes, as the light dimmed from them with each act of torment. If you moved or looked away, Minthara would hit Karlach with a striking blow, whether that was her neck twisting 180 degrees or lacerating her so bad that her blood pooled around you, only to pull Karlach away from the sweet release of death with some healing magic and start her cruel game again. At this point you were drenched in the tiefling's blood.
Eventually, Minthara’s fun seemed to reach its limit. With a contented sigh and a casual flick of her wrist, she dismissed her guards and Karlach's body was dragged away till Minthara became bored again.
Minthar turned to you. Her eyes were cold, yet there was a dangerous glimmer of satisfaction in them. She grabbed your jaw and forced you to look up at her.
"Come along, my love." she said with a tone that brooked no argument. "You need to be cleaned up."
You got to your feet, trying to stop your shaking hands, your head bowed, you couldn't meet her eye, didn't want to, but Minthara didn't like that. She recaptured your jaw in your hand and jerked it upwards, forcefully stealing a kiss from your lips, Karlach's splattered blood that had caught both of you in the fray, mingling on your lips. You were disgusted, but a part of you panicked that perhaps you weren't as disgusted as you should have been, as the kiss deepened. Pleased with your submission Minthara gestured for a servant to attend to you.
Dutifully, the servant escorted you to Minthara's lavish bathing chambers. The room was warm and fragrant, the steam from the large marble bath filling the air. The servant helped undress you, your shaking hands unable to unclasp your own robes. Once you were fully undressed the servant departed and you were glad for the peace.
You tenatively took a step into the warm water, it immediately turned pink from the semi dried blood on your legs. You had to ignore it and push through, getting into the bath until you were comfortabley submerged. You drew your legs up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, resting your chin on top of your knees. You wanted to cry, to sob, but there was nothing, only the feeling of the hot water on your skin.
The door to the bathing chamber opened again and you assumed it was the servant, having fetched the bath salts they had been murmering about. It wasn't until you heard the drop of clothes and the familiar presence sliding into the bath behind you, serving as a dark shadow to your vulnerability.
Minthara followed behind, her eyes cold as she surveyed the mess of blood and grime clinging to you.
"What are you doing?" you demanded, your voice trembling. "Get out of here!"
Minthara clicked her tongue and sighed, as you turned in the bath to confront her. She simply turned you back forward, ignoring your protests. Her fingers began to caress your skin, looking at the glorious gore she had bestowed upon you. Her touch was both soothing and disturbing, a paradox of sensations that left you feeling unsettled. Without a word she began to gently wash the blood from your body, her hands moving with a tenderness that was incongruous with the cruelty she had just displayed.
"I hate you so much," you muttered, your head in your hands though your voice was weak and lacking conviction. You tried to pull away again, to shrink away from her but Minthara’s grip was firm. She expertly removed the blood from your skin, her touch lingering in a way that was both unnervingly intimate and insidious.
As she worked, she leaned in closer, her lips beginning to brush against your neck. The warmth of her breath and the softness of her lips contrasted sharply with the harshness of her actions just moments before and it left your head dizzying. Despite yourself and your disgust, a shiver of pleasure ran down your spine, mingling with the guilt and revulsion that you felt.
"You're so beautiful," Minthara whispered, her voice a sultry murmur. "Even covered in that desecrator's blood, you are still ethereal and all mine."
Her hands continued to explore your body, her touch growing more deliberate, her grip on you tightening as she whispered possessive praise into your ear. You felt your resistance falter, your body betraying you with a response that you found both horrifying and inevitable. The pleasure she elicited from you was an unbearable reminder of your own helplessness, of how deeply you were ensnared in her web, the truth of her words when she called you her's.
As she continued to clean you, her touch became more insistent, and you found yourself responding to her ministrations with increasing fervor. Your chest rising and falling erratically, as you leaned back into her embrace, shamefully encouraging her actions. She continued to whisper in your ear only taking breaks to decorate your neck with more marks. The conflicting emotions of guilt and desire coiled tightly within you as she brought you to the edge of climax. Her lips pressed against your jaw, kissing and nibbling in a way that was almost too intimate, too intoxicating.
You finally broke, your body surrendering to the pleasure she was offering. The moment of climax was both a release and a profound source of shame. As you lay in the bath, panting and trembling, the guilt and self-loathing washed over you like cold waves.
Minthara's touch was gentle now, her hands smoothing over your body with a soothing caress. She pressed her lips to your ear, her breath warm and reassuring.
"Shh," she cooed softly. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You will not feel bad for being mine. Ever."
You whimpered quietly, the reality of your situation hitting you with full force. Minthara’s soothing presence, despite its inherent cruelty, provided a twisted sort of comfort. Her hands continued their gentle exploration, massaging into you.
"You are mine," she repeated, her voice a hypnotic whisper. "And you will never be free of me."
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Mother Superior Shadowheart:
The night had been a restless blur, the chaos of your thoughts and the raw pain of betrayal swirling into a turbulent storm. When you finally awoke, the reality of your predicament crashed down on you with the force of a tidal wave. The bed you lay upon was a cruel mockery of comfort, a deceptive haven amidst the wreckage of your trust.
You sat up abruptly, your mind racing with the fragmented memories and the unrelenting ache of betrayal. Shadowheart sat by your bedside, her expression a mix of sadness and apprehension as she watched you stir. Her presence, once a source of comfort, now felt like a shackle, binding you to a torment you could hardly begin to comprehend.
Without warning, a surge of anger propelled you from the bed. You lunged at Shadowheart, the force of your movement catching her off guard. She stumbled back, her eyes wide with shock as you grappled with her, pushing her down onto the floor.
"How could you?" you screamed, your voice breaking with raw emotion. "How could you mess with my mind, with my memories? What right did you have?"
Shadowheart struggled beneath you, her face a mask of both surprise and frustration. "You don’t understand," she gasped, trying to push you off. "I did what I had to, to protect you! I had to keep you safe from the pain of the truth."
Her words were a bitter reminder of the trust that had been shattered. "Safe?" you spat. "You made me a prisoner of my own mind! If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have done this!"
In the struggle, you managed to pin her down momentarily, your body pressing against hers as you sought to assert control.
Shadowheart's eyes flared with defiance. "If you truly wanted your memories back," she retorted, "they would have come back. I tried to shield you from the worst of it."
"Stop lying to me!" You shouted back at her and the fight continued, the struggle between you two becoming a fierce, almost primal contest of wills. Despite your best efforts, Shadowheart's training and strength began to turn the tide. With a sudden burst of strength, she reversed your position, pinning you to the floor with a triumphant gleam in her eyes.
As Shadowheart's dominance became apparent, her expression shifted from one of resistance to one of perverse satisfaction. She leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear. "You think you can defy me? You think you can escape the bond we share? I love you, and no matter how much you fight, you'll always come back to me."
Her hands roamed over your body with a deliberate, almost reverent touch. Her lips pressed against yours in a fierce, demanding kiss. You resisted at first, but the passion and intensity of her kiss, combined with the overwhelming flood of emotions, broke down your defenses. To your shock, you found yourself giving in, submitting to her touch.
Shadowheart's kiss was a fierce declaration of her control, and in your moment of submission, she took advantage of your surrender.
"You love me," she murmured, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "You love me. You always will. You can’t deny it, no matter how much you try."
Shadowheart’s dominance was undeniable, her aura of authority and control suffusing the air with an oppressive force. Her expression shifted from one of cold resolve to one of perverse satisfaction as she leaned in close, her breath warm against your ear.
“You think you can defy me?” she whispered, her voice a low growl. “You think you can escape the bond we share? I love you, and no matter how much you fight, you’ll always come back to me.”
Her hands roamed over your body with deliberate, almost reverent touches, sending shivers down your spine. Her lips met yours in a fierce, demanding kiss, her passion and intensity overwhelming you. At first, you resisted, trying to push her away, but her dominance was overpowering. Her kiss was relentless, her hands exploring with a mixture of tenderness and control. The passion in her touch, combined with the flood of emotions surging through you, began to break down your defenses.
Desperate to regain some semblance of control, you managed to push Shadowheart off you. You scrambled to your feet, your breath ragged as you fought to assert your will. You grabbed her and pinned her to the wall, your body pressed against hers as you tried to assert your dominance. But before you could fully capitalize on your advantage, Shadowheart twisted, shoving you back onto the bed with a forceful shove.
You landed with a thud, your breath escaping in a burst as Shadowheart took the opportunity to use a spell. With a swift incantation, she bound you to the bed, your limbs spread wide and trapped. The enchanted restraints held you firmly, rendering you helpless as she climbed onto the bed, straddling your waist with a pleased grin.
“I can tell you’re aroused,” she said, her tone dripping with satisfaction and you tried not to react to her truth, perhaps you were, perhaps it was easier to focus on the physical rather than the mental right now. As if she was reading your thoughts - which you didn't put it past her, she continued, “And that’s okay. Hate sex is some of the best sex.”
Her gaze flickered with a dark nostalgia as she reminisced about a particularly heated argument earlier in your relationship—a time when your fiery clashes had led to a passionate and intense encounter. You remembered that night vividly, the way the anger and frustration had mingled with desire, resulting in some of the most exhilarating and satisfying sex you’d ever experienced with her. The recollection stirred a complicated mix of emotions within you, and despite the situation, a part of you couldn't deny the truth of her words.
As Shadowheart’s hands traced over your restrained body, she released your arms from their bindings. You took the chance to sit up, your breath still coming in quick, ragged bursts. Without hesitation, you pulled her close, capturing her lips in a fierce, hungry kiss. Your emotions were a tempest of anger, desire, and longing, and the kiss was an expression of all of it.
Shadowheart responded with equal fervor, her kiss a melding of dominance and passion. She pressed against you, her body aligning with yours in a way that was both commanding and intimate. The boundaries between anger and affection blurred, and the intensity of your connection only deepened.
The tension and anger that had fueled your previous encounters transformed into a frenzied, primal dance of pleasure and defiance. Her hands roamed over your body with a relentless intensity, each touch a blend of control and desire. You matched her intensity, your movements a mixture of resistance and surrender, creating a turbulent rhythm that seemed to drive both of you to the brink of madness.
The room was filled with the sounds of your heated breaths, the creak of the bed, and the occasional gasp of surprise or pleasure. The boundary between anger and passion became increasingly blurred, each thrust and touch driven by a mixture of frustration, longing, and desire. The connection between you was raw and electric, charged with the fierce emotions that had simmered between you for so long.
As the intensity reached its peak, you both surrendered to the overpowering sensations, your bodies moving in a synchronized frenzy of pleasure and release. The boundary between love and hate, submission and dominance, became indistinct, leaving you both in a state of profound exhaustion and satisfaction.
Afterwards, as the echoes of your passionate encounter faded into a heavy silence, Shadowheart shifted beside you. Her breathing was still ragged, but a moment of tenderness had crept into her expression. She leaned over and kissed you gently, her lips soft against yours in stark contrast to the fervor of your previous actions.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured against your lips, her voice tinged with regret. Her gaze held a mix of vulnerability and sincerity that you rarely saw from her. The apology seemed to carry weight, an acknowledgment of the complexity of your emotions and the tumultuous nature of your connection.
Taken aback and still catching your breath, you asked, “Sorry for what exactly?”
Shadowheart’s eyes met yours with a conflicted expression. “For everything. For the pain, the control, the struggle. For the way I’ve been. The way I am.”
Before you could respond, she cast a spell with a fluid, practiced motion. A wave of magic enveloped you, and a deep, disorienting fog rolled over your consciousness. The world blurred and faded, the sensations of the room and Shadowheart’s touch slipping away into an inky darkness.
When you awoke, you found yourself in the same chamber, lying on the bed with Shadowheart beside you. Her eyes, filled with a complex mixture of emotions, met yours as you slowly came to your senses.
“What happened?” you asked, your voice hoarse and disoriented. The fog of your memories was thick, and you struggled to piece together the fragments of what had transpired. Shadowheart’s expression softened, and she offered a reassuring smile.
“You passed out after our rather passionate encounter,” she said smoothly, her tone a careful blend of concern and calm. “It was intense, and your body needed rest. I stayed with you, making sure you were alright.”
The words she spoke did little to clear the confusion in your mind. The weight of the encounter, the intimacy, and the subsequent fog of memory left you feeling disoriented and uncertain. The apology she had given even lingered in your mind, but the details of the moment were now shrouded in a veil of confusion.
Shadowheart’s presence beside you was a paradox—comforting yet enigmatic. As you lay there, struggling to grasp the full reality of what had transpired, her touch and her soothing words did little to dispel the unease that clung to you.
Shadowheart’s smile was one of complete satisfaction, her eyes reflecting the dominance she held over you. "You were just confused and overwhelmed, my lover," she said soothingly. "But you’re with me now, and that’s all that matters."
As you gazed up at her with a newfound calm, the anger and confusion of the earlier confrontation seemed to dissolve into the tranquil haze she had crafted. The memories of the struggle, of Lae'zel, and the raw pain of betrayal were buried deep, obscured by the comforting, yet deceptive, clarity of Shadowheart’s manipulation.
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God of Ambition Gale:
The corridors of Gale's divine realm, once a symbol of opulence and serenity, were now a battleground of raw, unfiltered emotions. The grandeur that had once enthralled you now felt like a cage, its golden walls closing in as you and Gale faced off in a tempest of anger and grief. The recent events—the death of Rolan and Gale's unrelenting control over your life—had ignited a fierce confrontation that echoed through the halls.
The marble pillars, usually majestic and still, seemed to shiver with the intensity of your argument. The air crackled with the magic of your anger, twisting and distorting the realm’s beauty into a chaotic reflection of your emotions.
"You think you can just erase what happened to Rolan?" you screamed, your voice cracking under the strain. "He was innocent, Gale! He came here to help me, and you—"
Gale's face darkened, his eyes flashing with a fury that matched yours. "Innocent? You think you can just waltz in here and tell me how to run my realm? I did what I had to do! You should be grateful for everything I’ve given you."
The realm itself seemed to respond to your shouting, the walls warping and shifting as if reflecting the tumultuous emotions between you. The once serene gardens now appeared as a tempestuous storm, with the clouds swirling and lightning crackling, mirroring the storm within you both.
"You’re a tyrant!" you yelled, unable to hold back your rage. "You control everyone around you, and you think you have the right to dictate every part of my life! You took Rolan's life like it was nothing. What gives you the right?"
Gale's face flushed with anger, and he stormed towards you, his voice rising to match yours. "You're ungrateful! I gave you everything. I brought you into my realm, my world! And this is how you repay me? With defiance and disrespect?"
Your eyes burned with unshed tears as you continued to shout, feeling a sense of betrayal and helplessness that fueled your anger. The realm around you mirrored this fury—marble statues twisted into grotesque forms, and the once calm fountains roared as though they were joining in your cries.
In a moment of sheer frustration, you moved to slap Gale, your hand cutting through the air with the force of your anger. But he was quick, his reflexes honed by divine power. He caught your wrist mid-air, his grip firm yet gentle, and the contact sent a jolt of electricity through both of you.
The touch was electrifying, a shocking contrast to the violence of your words. The energy between you crackled, a visceral, almost intoxicating sensation that seemed to suspend time. Your breath hitched, and the anger in your eyes was replaced by a bewildered intensity as you looked at him.
Gale’s grip was magnetic, drawing you closer despite the anger that had fueled the confrontation. His eyes, once filled with rage, softened as he felt the overwhelming pull of your touch. The world around you seemed to blur into insignificance as the two of you stood in this shared moment of raw connection.
The intensity of the contact made you both gasp. The emotional and physical energy coursed through your veins, an intoxicating mixture of power and pleasure that neither of you had experienced before. It was as if every suppressed feeling and desire had been unleashed, and the realm’s chaos seemed to amplify the ecstasy of the moment.
As the energy subsided, the storm of emotions that had driven you to this point began to ebb. You found yourself collapsing into Gale’s arms, the anger and pain giving way to an unexpected, profound intimacy. His embrace was a mixture of tenderness and possessiveness, as if he were trying to both comfort and claim you.
Gale, his breathing heavy and uneven, looked at you with a mix of satisfaction and something softer, more vulnerable. “You see,” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper against your ear. “This is the bond we share. It’s powerful and undeniable.”
You, still catching your breath, stared up at him, your mind a tumultuous swirl of emotions. The passion had left you in a haze, a fog that made it difficult to reconcile the man who had brought such intense pleasure and the one who had caused so much pain.
“What… what was that?” you asked, voice trembling. The sudden shift from fierce anger to this vulnerable intimacy left you disoriented.
Gale’s expression softened, his fingers gently stroking your hair. “It’s the force of what we are, of what we share,” he said quietly. “We’re bound by more than just this realm. It’s a connection that’s both our strength and our curse.”
"You don’t understand," Gale murmured, his voice a husky whisper as he held you close. "I did what I did because I love you. Everything I do, I do for us, for our future."
The tension in Gale's divine realm hung heavy in the air, a palpable force that seemed to pulse with every beat of your hearts. The confrontation that had erupted between you had reached a fever pitch, and now, amidst the aftermath of your shared anger and the electrifying contact, the realm itself seemed to hold its breath, caught between the storm of your emotions and the fragile calm that followed.
Gale's embrace, initially intended to be a show of control, now took on a different tone. His fingers, which had gripped your wrist with a divine authority, now stroked your skin with a tender urgency. His eyes, previously fierce with anger, were now dark with an almost desperate need.
He looked down at you, his breath coming in uneven gasps, as if trying to catch his own emotions. “You don’t understand,” he murmured, his voice rough and raw. “I need you. I need to feel you, to be with you.”
Your own breath was ragged, the intensity of the encounter leaving you disoriented and vulnerable. The fury and grief that had fueled your argument were slowly dissolving in the wake of the surprising tenderness that Gale now showed. His touch was a stark contrast to the anger that had previously filled the space between you.
Gale’s eyes, dark and intense, searched yours with a mixture of need and longing. “I can’t stand to be apart from you,” he confessed, his voice dropping to a desperate whisper. “I need to kiss you. I need to have you.”
You felt a confusing mixture of emotions—shame for letting your guard down, the lingering effects of anger, and an undeniable attraction that pulled you towards him despite everything. The raw intensity of the moment and the deep, primal need in Gale's gaze made it impossible to ignore. Despite the shame and conflict roiling inside you, you found yourself drawn to him, compelled by the undeniable connection that had sparked between you.
Gale leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both urgent and possessive. The kiss was a fervent plea, a declaration of his need and desire. You responded instinctively, your own lips parting to meet his with a passion that seemed to match his own. The kiss deepened, a swirling storm of emotion and desire that seemed to consume both of you.
As the kiss continued, Gale’s hands roamed over your body, his touch now filled with a desperate need. He pulled you closer, his fingers gripping your skin as if afraid you might slip away. His movements were both tender and demanding, a mixture of affection and control that left you breathless.
You found yourself responding in kind, your own hands gripping his shoulders, your body arching towards him as if drawn by an invisible force. The anger and grief that had driven you to this point seemed to dissipate in the wake of the overwhelming desire that now filled the space between you.
The two of you moved together with a feverish intensity, the passion of your connection manifesting in a fervent and uninhibited union. The realm around you seemed to fade into the background, a mere backdrop to the raw, unfiltered emotions that drove you both.
As Gale’s touches and kisses continued to explore every inch of your body, he glanced briefly over to a hidden plane of the realm, a part tucked away just for him, as he looked into that plane he could see where he had displayed Rolan’s body. His gaze, though fleeting as to not arise suspicion from you, was filled with a possessive pride, you were his, only his, no one else's.
Gale held you close, his body pressed against yours as if he were trying to fuse the two of you together. His lips, warm and demanding, traveled down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that mixed with the lingering taste of your earlier passion.
In the throes of your connection, you felt a complex whirlwind of emotions. The anger and shame of the confrontation were replaced by an intense, all-consuming need that mirrored Gale’s own. The physical act of union was a blend of control and vulnerability, a moment of raw, passionate intimacy that left you both spent and connected in a way that defied explanation.
As you lay entwined in Gale’s embrace, his breathing uneven and his touch still lingering on your skin, the intensity of the moment began to settle. The storm of emotions that had fueled your confrontation had given way to a more subdued, but no less profound, intimacy. Gale’s possessive pride and the overwhelming need for connection left you both in a state of profound exhaustion, and for you especially, shame. How could you lie with him after he thoughtlessly murdered your dear friend? You felt a wave of disgust wash over you but as you went to remove yourself Gale simply held you tighter, his eyes flashing with a danger you had never seen before. You were not to move, you were to stay with him. You could almost hear the threat before it left his lips.
You wouldn't want more of our friends to end up like dear Rolan, would you?...
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Ascended Astarion:
The grandeur of the masquerade ball seemed like a distant, mocking memory as you found yourself seething with anger and despair in the cold, opulent chambers of the palace. The elegance of the surroundings was now a cruel reminder of your own feelings of helplessness and confinement. Astarion’s cruel dominance had once again ensnared you, leaving you feeling trapped and hopeless.
Days following the ball had seen you retreating into the shadows of the palace, avoiding Astarion’s insidious charm and any attempt at interaction. Your only act of defiance was refusing to feed—a desperate measure to cling to whatever shred of control you had left. It was a small rebellion against the all-encompassing power he held over you.
Astarion observed your increasing weakness with detached curiosity, though it soon turned into something more akin to concern. The sight of your pale skin and the faint tremor in your movements ignited a sense of urgency in him. His usual aloofness was momentarily replaced by a more serious demeanor as he approached you one evening, his eyes dark with an unreadable mix of emotions.
“Why, my dearest darkest consort, have you stopped feeding?” His voice was a smooth blend of menace and curiosity, yet there was an edge to it that suggested he was no longer merely observing.
You looked up at him from where you slumped against the cold marble wall, your eyes hollow and filled with a mixture of anger and regret. “I remembered what a monster I am,” you said through gritted teeth, each word strained and weary. “I got Wyll killed. I don’t deserve any of this.”
Astarion’s eyes widened in surprise before he burst into a harsh, derisive laughter that reverberated through the room. “You think you’re a monster? Oh, darling, you were always a monster. A beautiful, lovely monster,” he taunted, his laughter echoing with cruel amusem*nt.
But as he took in the depth of your despair, his expression shifted. The mockery gave way to a more serious, contemplative gaze. With a sigh, he summoned one of his spawn, ordering it to fetch a goblet of blood. His eyes remained locked on you, a strange mix of pity and possessiveness evident in his gaze.
“You’re not wrong, you know. You’re a monster,” he said softly, almost tenderly. “But that’s what makes you so captivating.”
When the spawn returned with the goblet, Astarion took it, savoring the rich, crimson liquid with an almost reverent appreciation. His eyes never left yours as he raised the goblet to his lips, taking a measured sip. Then, without warning, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.
The taste of blood mingled with his kiss, shocking you into a heightened state of awareness. You could feel the coppery richness on your tongue, and an intense, ravenous hunger surged within you. As you kissed him back with a fierce intensity, your lips moving against his with a desperate need, the blood he’d shared fueled a primal fire that awakened every hidden desire within you.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and trembling, you seized the goblet with shaking hands. You drank deeply, the liquid rushing through you, revitalizing your weakened body. Each gulp brought a euphoric rush, a surge of strength and vitality that you hadn’t felt in what seemed like an eternity.
The renewed energy coursing through you was intoxicating. You grabbed Astarion by the collar, pulling him towards you with a fierce determination. Your kiss was aggressive and relentless, driven by the primal need that had been stoked by his earlier actions.
Astarion’s usual control began to waver as he responded to your desperate hunger. He was usually the one in control, but tonight, with your newfound strength and fervor, the roles seemed to blur. He attempted to tease you, pulling away from your kisses with a smirk, his eyes glinting with playful mischief.
“Such eagerness,” he teased, his voice a low purr. “Do you think you can just take what you want?”
You growled softly, your patience wearing thin. The euphoric rush of the blood had left you with an insatiable need, and his teasing only fueled your desperation. With a savage, determined energy, you grabbed him, pushing him onto the floor. Your hands roamed over his body with an urgency that matched the intensity of your hunger.
Astarion’s smirk faltered as you took control, his eyes widening in surprise at your boldness - apparently you could just take what you want. For once, he allowed the misbehavior to slide, his usual dominance overshadowed by the raw passion and desperation you displayed. His resistance melted away as he succumbed to the ferocity of your touch.
You pressed your body against his, the heat of the fire mingling with the heat of your shared passion. The world around you blurred as you lost yourself in each other, every touch and caress a testament to the depth of your desire and connection. The boundaries between control and submission, love and dominance, blurred into a single overwhelming sensation.
The intensity of your union reached its peak, your bodies shuddering with the force of your climax. The exhaustion from your earlier deprivation, combined with the sheer fervor of the experience, left you both spent and disoriented. You collapsed beside him, the afterglow of your passion enveloping you in a deep sense of contentment.
When you awoke, you were lying across Astarion’s lap, his hand gently stroking your hair. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of candles, creating a warm, soothing light that cast gentle shadows across the walls. He helped you drink from a fresh goblet, the rich, invigorating liquid helping to restore your strength and fill the void left by your earlier weakness.
As you drank, a sense of blissful calm washed over you. The earlier tumult of your emotions was replaced by a deep satisfaction and a newfound serenity. The previous worries and regrets seemed distant, overshadowed by the undeniable bond between you and Astarion.
Looking up at him, your eyes heavy with contentment, you saw a genuine warmth in his smile—a rare sight that was usually masked by his usual smugness. “You’re mine,” he murmured softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
In that moment, nestled in his embrace and with the blood giving you renewed vigor, all previous conflicts and doubts seemed insignificant. You were wrapped in a cocoon of contentment, the undeniable connection between you and Astarion providing a comforting sense of belonging. The chaos and pain of the past felt like distant echoes, overshadowed by the warmth and intimacy that now defined your relationship.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Naturist Halsin:
The grove was quiet, save for the soft rustle of leaves and the gentle flow of the river. The death of Jaheira had left you feeling hollow, a void that seemed to stretch endlessly within. Your once fervent hope for escape had been extinguished, leaving only a cold, numbing despair.
As you wandered aimlessly through the grove, the vibrant colors of the flowers seemed garish and out of place. Their beauty was a cruel contrast to the emptiness inside you. The moonlight painted a silvery sheen on the water’s surface, and you found yourself drawn to the river’s edge. Without thinking, you stepped into the cool, clear water, letting it rise around your waist and then your chest.
You stood there, staring at the moonlit ripples, feeling the icy embrace of the river. The water numbed your senses, and with each passing moment, your grief seemed to merge with the cold, creating a sense of detachment from reality. You didn’t care about the danger of hypothermia or the consequences of your actions. You were beyond caring.
Halsin, having given you space for a while, eventually approached, his footsteps silent on the grass. His eyes, still carrying the weight of what he had done, were now filled with concern as he saw you standing motionless in the frigid water. He knew you were in a state of emotional collapse, and he had been watching from a distance, assessing whether you would come to your senses or succumb to the cold.
“Get out of the river,” he called out, his voice carrying an authoritative edge. You turned to him, the cold making your voice raspy and strained.
“f*ck you, Halsin! Just leave me alone!” Your words were laced with the raw anger and despair you felt, a futile attempt to assert control over the situation.
Halsin’s face hardened, but he could see the severity of your condition. The numbness in your limbs was apparent, and he knew you were dangerously close to hypothermia. Without another word, he waded into the river, his powerful strides cutting through the water with ease.
“No! Don’t you dare,” you shouted, trying to push away from him despite your weakening strength. Your limbs were heavy and uncooperative, making it difficult to move away. The water was mercilessly cold, and as you stumbled, your legs gave out beneath you. Halsin’s arms were quick to catch you, lifting you effortlessly out of the water.
“You’re going to freeze,” he said, his tone softening as he carried you to the riverbank. He laid you down gently on the grass, your body shivering uncontrollably. His concern was evident, though it was wrapped in the guise of his usual stern demeanor.
He set about starting a fire, the crackling of the flames offering a slight reprieve from the cold. The warmth was desperately needed, but you continued to resist his attempts to help. “I don’t need your pity,” you protested weakly, but the shivering made your voice barely coherent.
Halsin’s patience was wearing thin. “The only way to warm you up is to share body heat. I’m not doing this to torment you.”
Despite your protests, he began to undress you carefully, his touch surprisingly gentle. You could barely muster the strength to resist, and before long, he had stripped both of you down to your bare skin. The warmth of his body against yours was almost overwhelming after the cold of the river.
He gently pulled you close, his body pressed against yours to provide heat. You leaned into him, seeking the comfort and warmth he offered, even if it was from the monster who had inflicted so much pain on you. The raw vulnerability of the moment made you crave any semblance of connection.
Your lips found his in a hesitant kiss, a tentative exploration of the warmth that seemed to contradict the pain. The kiss deepened, driven by a primal need for connection and comfort. You both became increasingly desperate, your hands roaming over each other's bodies as the heat of the fire mingled with the heat of your passion.
The kiss evolved into a more intense embrace, and soon you were making love, the raw need and emotion giving way to an animalistic drive. Halsin’s control was strained, and his passion was palpable.
He settled beside the fire, pulling you into his embrace. The warmth of his body contrasted sharply with the lingering chill of the river. You leaned into him instinctively, seeking comfort despite the tumultuous emotions within you.
As the heat from the fire and his body began to seep into you, the physical closeness between you and Halsin took on a new dimension. Your hands, still trembling, found their way to his skin, exploring the contours of his body with a newfound urgency. The grief and anger that had consumed you seemed to melt away in the heat of the moment.
Halsin responded with a hunger that matched your own, his kisses deep and fervent. The intensity of the situation fed into the passion that erupted between you. The physical need you felt was raw and primal, a desperate attempt to find solace in the midst of your suffering. Your bodies intertwined with an almost desperate fervor, the heat of the fire and the warmth of your shared embrace fueling the intensity of your connection.
The warmth of the fire and the intensity of your shared embrace provided a stark contrast to the cold emptiness that had gripped you earlier. The primal need that had driven you both was now manifesting in a fervent and raw connection. The air was thick with the mingled scents of smoke and passion, the crackling of the fire serving as a backdrop to the physical and emotional exchange unfolding between you and Halsin.
As your bodies moved together with increasing urgency, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. The intense heat of the fire combined with the warmth of Halsin's body against yours created a cocoon of intimacy that was both comforting and consuming. Each touch, each kiss, was a desperate attempt to find solace and connection amidst the overwhelming grief and confusion that had enveloped you.
In a moment of heightened vulnerability, you pulled away slightly, your breath ragged and your eyes searching his. “Halsin,” you gasped, your voice trembling. “Do you... do you love me? Is this... is this not just some sick game to you?”
Halsin's eyes met yours, a flicker of something deep and genuine flashing within them. His lips, still slightly swollen from your earlier kisses, curved into a tender smile. He cupped your face in his hands, his touch both firm and gentle. “I love you,” he said, his voice filled with a raw sincerity that seemed to cut through the haze of passion. “This is not a game. My heart is yours. I am consumed by you. Everything I do, every part of me, is dedicated to you.”
His kiss was fervent, filled with a renewed intensity that spoke of his deep, abiding affection. It was a kiss that sought to reassure you, to reaffirm the bond between you, and to dispel any doubts that might linger. You could feel the sincerity in his touch, in the way he held you close, and you chose to believe him, to trust in the connection that was forming between you.
The intensity of the moment continued to build, and you both lost yourselves in the passion of your union. The raw need that had driven you to this point was satisfied, but it was replaced by a deep sense of contentment and connection. Your bodies moved together in a rhythm that was both natural and comforting, the fire’s warmth adding to the heat of your shared embrace.
As the climax of your physical connection faded, you found yourself wrapped in Halsin’s arms, the remnants of your passion mingling with the warmth of the fire. The grief and anger that had driven you earlier seemed to melt away, replaced by a profound sense of intimacy and trust.
Once the fervor of your union had subsided, Halsin gently pulled you close, his strong arms enveloping you in a protective embrace. The warmth from the fire, combined with the heat of his body, created a cocoon of comfort that seemed to shield you from the pain and sorrow that had plagued you before.
Halsin shifted into his bear form, his large, furry body providing a comforting weight against you. You nestled against him, the gentle rise and fall of his breathing offering a soothing rhythm. The bear’s form was surprisingly tender, his fur warm and soft against your skin. The primal connection between you was now more than just physical; it was an emotional bond that had been forged in the crucible of your shared suffering and passion.
As you nestled against him, a thought crossed your mind, one that made a pang of irritation rise in you for not realising it sooner. You would have warmed up a lot quicker pressed against bear Halsin rather than a naked Halsin. If you even had hypothermia in the first place. The realization was almost disturbingly comforting in its own way—another example of his manipulation, but one you had come to accept in your current state.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Moment of silence for Karlach, Lae'zel, Rolan, Wyll and Jaheira. I'm so sorry but sacrifices had to be made x
Hope my little freaks out there enjoyed it - Seluney xox
