#Summer Mephistopheles | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sky-kiss · 2 months

Text

Raphael/Haarlep: Gift

A/N: Yeah, there's no real ending to this. I just wanted to write early days Raph/Haarlep trying to figure each other out a little. Also. The image is a lie, lol, cause this is a pre-glam Haarlep.

R/H: GIFT

He still recalls his sire’s words of introduction:

Don’t you like your gift, boy?

Gift, said with a smile, hiding the underlying disdain and the most truthful sneer. Mephistopheles watches him closely, chin resting in his right palm, looking the very picture of benevolence to any onlooker.

Gift, but it’s not a pet, tool, or toy standing across from him—no, his sire was never one for such half-measures. Raphael stares the incubus down, face impassive. They are beautiful, truth be told. Hair the color of burnished copper hangs nearly to the small of their back, skin sun-kissed, features lovely beyond the telling—they are every pleasant summer evening, every whispered dream by the seaside. The incubus is warmth and longing, humid hunger, made flesh.

Raphael notices none of this—it’s only their eyes he cares about. They are the same hellfire gold as his own, lit with the same fury. For a moment, just the one, he thinks they might understand one another.

The feeling passes.

Mephistopheles speaks in a cold tone just above a whisper, only a few degrees above frostbite: “Will you not thank me, son of Hellfire?”

“My thanks,” he says, and he hates that the response is immediate, that he is still too powerless to risk slighting the Archduke. Raphael flicks his attention to the viper he’s been gifted, “Does my prize have a name, Father?”

The devil laughs. “Ah, but I hope you of all people shall appreciate this…I took the liberty of renaming it something more to your tastes: Haarlep.”

Raphael’s head snaps up, lips curling back in a sneer. He opens his mouth to protest…

…and the incubus steps forward, winding their arms around his neck. The unnatural heat of their skin is a welcome balm compared to Mephistar’s unnatural chill. They lean close, near enough for their breath to gust across his lips. “You are a pretty thing, aren’t you? Yes. Oh, and you pout so sweetly.” They shut his mouth with a kiss.

Raphael hears their voice in his head, a far cry from the empty-headed lilt they’ve spoken with: Don’t give him the satisfaction, little brat—be silent.

~~~~~~

“Is there where you’ve fled?”

“Reside,” Raphael corrects. “The House of Hope,” the cambion holds his arms out wide, gesturing to the banquet hall. It is not half as grand as his Father’s citadel on Mephistar but…suitable. He has carved out a place for himself—it will not sate his ambition for long, but for now, he allows himself to feel satiated.

The incubus hums, dragging their fingers across the table.

“You are not impressed?”

Haarlep laughs, and there is a high and reedy quality to it that he does not like. “Asking me to lie to you already. And not even to the bedroom yet. Tsk, tsk, princeling—we are careening towards disappointment.”

“You will address me with respect, slave.”

“But of course, Master.” They croon, eyes blazing with naked defiance. Their wings flick, pinning behind them as the temperature in the banquet halls rises in response to Raphael’s temper. Haarlep bows their head in concession. By way of thanks, they say, “It is warmer than Mephistar.”

“Too delicate for the cold?”

They offer an olive branch. “This Home is…comfortable, princeling.”

~~~~~~

Raphael does not let the wretch share his bed.

If it concerns them, they do not say. Haarlep roams the House, antagonizing the staff. They are never out of sight and just outside of arm's reach. Some evenings, he'll feel their fingers brush across his mind, testing the surface of his thoughts but never pushing. Whatever else the creature is, they are not stupid.

They want his attention.

Raphael sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and setting the contract aside. "Ask."

He feels Haarlep's grin, even if he doesn't see it. The wretch lingers near the corner of his vision, rolling a coin across their knuckles, weaving it through their fingers. "Isn't it more fun like this?"

"No. If you have a question, ask. Be direct."

"Oh, but it's tedious. No play, no games…"

"...no whimsy," Raphael finishes, leaning back in his seat. He knows the creature well enough to anticipate their next movement—they're up from their perch in one liquid movement, sliding into his lap the next. He catches their wrist before they can undo the top fastenings on his doublet. "Ah, ah, wandering hands to yourself, pet."

Haarlep's lips curl up in a smirk, a note of respect creeping across their features. "You haven't asked why I'm here."

"Why waste the breath? You are my Sire's spy."

"Such accusations."

"Do you deny it?"

They scoff. "Of course not! No, no, I lie only when it suits me, dear. And I much prefer you know this truth."

Raphael winds an arm around them, nails digging into their hip hard enough to draw blood. Haarlep doesn't wince. "You're here because he fears me."

And Haarlep laughs, high and bright, and doesn't stop laughing when Raphael dumps them out of his lap. "Naughty and delusional, are we? No, half-blood, nothing so grand as that—the Cold Lord would distract you. And," they grin at him, cold, wicked, "Forget you."

"I will not allow that."

Haarlep's eyes light with something like respect, "Good boy. Hold onto that drive. Perhaps one day you'll make something of yourself."

Raphael offers an olive branch—he extends a hand to the incubus.

Haarlep takes it.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #haarlep #raphael x haarlep #bg3 fanfiction #my writing #this is nothing #i just wanted to goof around with them a little

103 notes · View notes

sforzie · 3 months

Text

Summary: Curious about his son's new girlfriend wife 'contractually bonded partner', Mephistopheles proceeds to mildly stalk her through Baldur's Gate. It goes about as well as you'd expect. ___

Mephistopheles was admittedly perplexed when he heard that his son had begun lodging with a mortal woman. Not just lodging, no, word was that Raphael and this woman had mutually signed a contract that bound them together in some sort of undisclosed relationship. If the pair had been mortals, the devil might have written it off as some sort of youthful elopement. But this was Raphael that was being talked about, and while his son was certainly still a brat he was far from young and foolish.

He sought out information on the woman, and was able to determine that she was a tiefling, not quite thirty summers of age, who had been part of the group of tadpole-infected adventurers who had stopped the relatively recent invasion of mind flayers that had been focused on the city of Baldur’s Gate. There was little else to go on, and Mephistopheles remained puzzled as to what about this woman could have drawn his son’s narcissistic interest.

So he decided to see for himself.

One day, he received word that the woman–Livia, was her name–was making a trip from the Hells and back to Baldur’s Gate. This was apparently something she did on a somewhat regular basis. Curious, Mephistopheles took on a mortal guise–that of a ruggedly handsome tiefling, thank you–and followed the woman to the mortal plane.

He knew her when he found her, because she absolutely reeked of his son’s magic. Livia was a tiefling woman with pleasantly dark gray skin and black hair that was streaked here and there with crimson. She was pleasantly built–nearly tall, with gentle curves and long, curling tail. Mephistopheles could immediately understand why the average man would find her appealing. Hells, he certainly found her appealing, and briefly considered it a pity that she had been foolish enough to contractually bind herself to Raphael. She could have done so much better for herself…

He followed her at a somewhat careful distance through the busy city. He was impressed by the confidence in her stride, how despite being a tiefling she did not lower her gaze to those around her. She clearly did not care that she was viewed by other mortals as less-than, as tainted by her infernal ancestry. She kept her head held high, horns arcing behind her with elegant poise. Livia seemed to be on some variety of shopping trip, as most of her stops in the city were at various market stalls and shops. If she was purchasing anything, he could not be certain for sure, as she carried no packages with her from one business to the next.

One of her last stops, in the middle of the afternoon, was at a wizard’s shop in the lower city. Sorcerous Sundries was a messy, loud place, full of the mortal realm’s finest of middling magics. Mephistopheles found it all quite quaint, but managed to keep his opinions to himself as he trailed after the woman. She meandered through the shop, her pivoting gaze indicating to him that she was looking for someone specific. She eventually found her target on the second floor in the form of a ruddy cheeked tiefling man garbed in a wizard’s attire. The man stopped in his industrious fussing over a bookshelf to smile brightly and pull Livia into a hug. His enthusiasm in seeing her was quite evident by the happy wagging of the tip of his tail.

Mephistopheles wondered if there was something going on between them. He pretended to browse a nearby shelf while Livia chatted with the other tiefling. He couldn’t quite hear what was being said–the shop was rather noisy–but could still tell that the young man was gushing enthusiastically about something. A few minutes passed, and then another pair of tieflings came clamoring up the stairs. They both hugged Livia with the same ferocity as the first tiefling had.

Ah, Mephistopheles thought, just friends.

His target continued chatting with the tieflings for nearly half an hour before going on her way. Downstairs, she bought something from the shopkeep before again venturing out into the city. Mephistopheles briefly lost track of her in the busy streets, before eventually finding her once more as she made her way into a tavern. He decided that there was no harm in more directly approaching the woman here in a bar, as in a place like this striking up a random conversation with a stranger was not all that unusual.

She was ordering a drink at the bar when Mephistopheles joined her. He sat on the adjacent stool, curling his tail around the base so that he did not topple off of it. They sat side by side in silence for a few minutes, she sipping from her glass while he turned his in his fingers.

Finally, he said: “Do you come here often, miss?”

It took Livia a moment to respond. “Now and then, though not as often as I used to.”

“Moved on to greener pastures, eh?”

“Something like that.” She did not turn her face away, but Mephistopheles still got the impression that she was not interested in speaking with him. That was quite rude, he thought. He knew his mortal guise was attractive–it still looked like him, after all–and he had gotten his fair share of appraising looks while following the tiefling woman through the city. So, why did she have no interest in him? He was definitely more attractive than his son.

He decided to try again. “Tell me, young lady. What’s a lovely thing like you doing in a place like this?”

Livia looked at him from the corner of her eye. “Truth be told, a tavern is one of the best places to get all of the latest gossip in a city. And I do so like to be kept up to date on my gossip.”

So she claimed, he thought, but the woman had yet to speak to anyone else in the tavern.

“Gossip, you say? What of interest have you heard, my dear?”

“Nothing yet.” She set her glass on the counter and made a show of looking around the tavern. “Things in the city have been quiet as of late, at least on the surface.”

“And under the surface?”

She shrugged. “Who’s to say.”

Mephistopheles considered her nearly blank expression. What was she hiding from him? “You know, for someone who claims to be seeking out gossip, you do not strike me as being particularly adept at it.”

Livia blinked slowly. “Oh, I don’t know. The day is young.”

“I could offer you something far more tantalizing than petty gossip, if you were interested.” He leaned toward her. Livia did not flinch at his approach. She stared at him with lowered eyelids.

“Is that so? What did you have in mind, good sir?”

“I could certainly show a pretty thing like yourself a good time.” He grinned toothily at the woman. “I could take you places you’ve never been, and show you sights that you have never seen.”

Livia hummed to herself, seeming to consider his offer. She picked up her glass and murmured into it: “You could indeed.”

“Are you not curious, my dear? You would never want to return to listening to gossip in taverns when I was done with you.”

“You sound quite confident of yourself, sir.”

“I have no reason to be otherwise.”

He watched as she leaned back slightly and looked him over–from his long black horns all the way down to the red tail that was still loosely gripping the leg of the barstool. The bright pink tip of her tongue briefly darted into view as it traced the line of her lower lip.

“I see. I daresay my darling would have told me to expect such bravado from you.” Livia leaned in and lowered her voice. “Mephistopheles.”

He felt a jolt in his back. “Pardon?”

“You heard me, sir.”

The archduke hesitated, reluctant to drop his ruse so quickly. However, the tiefling looked quite confident in her assessment of his identity. How was that even possible?

She stared at him, waiting.

“Guilty as charged,” he finally conceded, still sincerely surprised by her observation. “How could you tell?”

Livia took a sip of her drink.

“You ordered an expensive drink, but haven’t actually consumed any of it. Not even a sniff. I know from listening to Raphael complain about you that you absolutely refuse to consume any of the ‘tepid swill’ produced in the mortal realms, and only stock your cellars with the finest of vintages produced on other planes.”

“A bold observation, but I could also be trying to stay sober while seeking out company.”

“Perhaps.” Livia tipped her head to the side and stared at him. What a piercing gaze she had! Her eyes flicked from his face and again down his front, and then back up to his horns. “Your glamour may be first class, but you still reek of the hells to anyone in the know. And on top of that, you… well, ‘smell’ isn’t the right word for it, but you smell very similar to Raphael. On a manifested level. You have a markedly similar aura.”

“And how would a little thing like you even know how to sense that?” He watched as she continued to study his face for a moment, a distinctly unimpressed look on her face.

“I fuck your son on a daily basis,” she said blandly into her glass. “And my essence has been infused with his own. I think I know what he feels like.” Livia gestured with the glass, pointer finger flexing to draw his attention to a thin golden band that looked as though it had been etched into her skin. Indeed, focusing on this strange trinket was enough to tell Mephistopheles why he sensed his son on her. The ring was composed almost entirely of his magic, of his essence. Even without touching it directly, he could detect a plethora of bits of spells woven into the band. A glamour, location spells, protection wards… He wondered if she had any idea of the true nature of that ring.

“Well then. I must concede defeat, little lady. You have indeed sussed out my true identity.”

“Of course I did.” Her pretty lips pinched briefly. “So, why were you following me all day? I knew you were there–you were kind of obvious.”

“Ah, I do apologize for my lack of stealth, my good lady. I must admit, when I heard that my son had become involved with some mortal woman, I was intrigued as to who might have drawn his attention away from his mirrors.”

“I suppose such curiosity is to be expected.” She set down her glass. “And, what did you learn?”

The archduke huffed softly. “Truth be told, only that he had become drawn to a beautiful, confident woman. I cannot profess to understand what really drew him to you.”

Her lips pulled into a smug smile. “Good.”

Mephistopheles hoped that she did not hear the faint sigh that escaped him. This little tiefling was far too good a woman to be wasting her time on his son. He could put her to much better use than Rapahel. A clever spy, perhaps, or at least a lovely new concubine with which to entertain himself.

Pity.

Of course, he could steal her away and take her back to Cania if he truly wished to, there was nothing that she or Raphael could do to prevent that. It could be interesting to do just to see his son, still flush with the power of the Crown of Karsus, come thundering into his domain to reclaim his pet. However, he had made a pledge of fealty to his son in exchange for being left in control of his assets in Cania. It would be unfortunate to have to waste time and resources over so trifling a matter as a mortal woman.

Livia was ignoring him now, seemingly, having picked up his untouched glass from the bartop and pouring half of its contents into her own. He could not tell whether or not her indifference to his station was sincere or an act.

She was a charming little thing, he thought. Perhaps just the sort of distraction Raphael needed, seeing as Haarlep had clearly ceased to be effective at their job ages ago. That was what his son needed, after all–distractions, things to keep his devious little mind occupied. Mephistopheles decided that, for the time being, Raphael could keep his new little toy.

“So, tell me, little one–Livia, wasn’t it? What did you buy at the wizard’s shop?” he asked after a few minutes. Livia’s shoulders jerked slightly, as though she had forgotten he was there, and after a moment of hesitation she pulled a paper covered bundle from her cloak. She unwrapped it, revealing a fist sized chunk of a dark red and black stone.

“Bloodstone,” she said. With a hint of shyness, she added: “It’s for Raphael. He likes to use bloodstone in his preparations of the ink he uses on his contracts.”

“I see.” Not what he had expected. “Did he send you here to purchase it?”

“No, of course not. But, I heard him grumbling about his stock being low the other day. I thought I would get some for him, since I was already here.”

A curious action on her part. “What reward could you hope to earn for such a menial task?”

“Reward?” Another sharp shrug. “Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps a smile? A kiss between the horns? At the very least, it would be one less thing for him to complain about for a few weeks.”

Mephistopheles tried to imagine his son smiling at the woman, but found it difficult. Imagining Raphael showing any sort of real affection to anyone but himself was nearly impossible.

“That’s all?”

“I need nothing more.” Livia drained the last of her drink. “I already have everything that I could want.”

He watched as she opened a pouch and set a coin on the counter next to the empty glass. “And, what was it that you wanted?”

Livia looked up at Mephistopheles, and her blue eyes gleamed.

“Him.”

#bg3 fanfiction #tiefling tav #bg3 mephistopheles #bg3 gray queen au #tav x raphael

41 notes · View notes

midnight-vixn · 2 years

Text

Beach Party

Mephistopheles x Fem!Reader

A/n: I have only @haithanist to thank for feeding me this idea almost two months ago now. I’m making this Prompt 7 for my 666 event because it was too good to pass up.

Cw: Hate fucking, degradation, exhibitionism, male masturbation, scenting, light choking, finger sucking, implied free use w/brothers, cum tasting.

Word count: 4.1k

Surprisingly the summers in the Devildom got just as hot as the human world at times, today was one of the worst, and Lord Diavolo decided to throw a party on his private beach for the students of RAD in an attempt to beat the heat. Mephistopheles, of course, had been sent to do a report on how the evening went, however, shortly after the party started he became preoccupied with his own study.

Those accursed seven brothers that Diavolo seemed to adore so much showed up almost an hour late to the event. Lucifer was busy kissing ass per usual to the Prince, two of the brothers made themselves at home under a large cabana, four of the brothers made a mad dash for the water and right behind them was you. That’s where his study began. You were always so innocent acting, as if you weren’t surrounded by sin and temptation on the daily, it made him sick. Mephisto normally only saw you in your RAD uniform and on the few brief occasions he saw you outside the school you were typically wearing a jacket or had one of the brothers wrapped around you, but here you were now with everything completely exposed.

He couldn’t believe Lucifer would let you leave the house dressed like that, your bottoms hugged your hips snuggly yet barely covered your ass, your breasts were practically falling out of that top, one strong wave and you’d lose it completely. The nerve of a human to dress like that in front of so many demons, have you no shame? That thing left very little to the imagination…yet for some reason Mephistopheles found himself trapped in his.

Watching you act so innocent annoyed him, splashing around in the ocean with that accursed Avatar of Greed, as if you weren’t on full display and filling every demon looking with lust. A knot formed in his stomach as he watched a wave knock you off your feet and directly onto the unsuspecting Avatar of Wrath, his hands coming up to catch you but instead groping your chest on accident.

Ungrateful bastard.

You made your way out of the water finally, water dripping off the curves of your body and sunlight bouncing off your wet skin making you glow practically. You made your way over to the cabana and picked up a towel, the way you dried yourself off was a sin all on its own, slowly rubbing over your inner thighs and ass, bending over to dry your feet and your ass becoming even more exposed, Mephistopheles was confident you were just fondling yourself now instead of actually drying your chest off.

You tossed the towel on a nearby chair and headed off toward the tiki bar that was set up a few yards away with the ever gleeful Avatar of Lust, the second and third born brothers right on your heels. Watching you walk off Mephisto couldn’t help but watch as your bottoms road up your ass to expose the soft flesh underneath, his throat became dry and he felt himself twitch under his shorts. It was outrageous that a mere human could make him feel like this, it was appalling, disgusting even…but it wasn’t the first time.

Mephistopheles had caught himself thinking about you in very provocative situations before but always shut it down before he got too worked up. This time however he had a front row seat to your exposed skin and the way your wet bikini clung to your curves, it was too late to stop himself. He reached down subtly to palm his growing erection and a noise caught in his throat, he didn’t care if he was caught masturbating but he would die if they found out it was to you. His mind wandered farther, undressing you fully, groping at your chest, inhaling your scent… your scent.

Mephisto’s eyes flew open and he scanned the cabana frantically, he knew he had seen you remove a tank top before heading to the water and he had a perverted idea. Landing sight on your top he calmly but quickly approached the cabana, a few feet from the table your top was on, laid the seventh born brother flat on his stomach with a towel covering his face from the sun and thankfully in a deep sleep. Mephistopheles checked his surroundings and then grabbed your shirt, balled it up and made his way back to the cliff side he had emerged from.

Shielding himself from the view of others, Mephisto leaned back against the smooth rock and pulled his waistband down, letting his stiff cock spring free. A sharp gasp at the sudden freedom before he wrapped one hand firmly around the base, somehow he was incredibly turned on and ashamed at the same time, his long cock was already throbbing, veins visible all along his shaft, his tip darkening from the blood rushing to it, fuck you for making him feel like this.

Mephistopheles started to pump his cock slowly, envisioning you back in the water, the way the waves crashed against your body and the way the water dropped off you. His one hand started to pump a little faster while the other held firmly onto your shirt, Mephisto hesitated for a moment before he brought the shirt up to his face inhaling your scent. His eyes blew wide, it was intoxicating to have your scent so close to him, it felt as though you were right here with him while he fucked himself. What a treat that would be, to have you sit at his feet with your hands bound while he stroked himself above you, his precum dripping off and landing on your lips.

How defenseless you would be as he pulled your mouth open and slid his cock down your throat, tears running down your cheeks as he fucked your face, your moans vibrating around his cock. Mephisto pumped faster, his heartbeat racing and moans ripping from his throat, the occasional Fuck! falling from his lips. He wanted you— no, needed you here to fuck. Inhaling your scent once more, Mephisto got another idea, he slowly rubbed your shirt against his abs and down toward his other hand. First gently rubbing the fabric against his sensitive cock, then wrapping it tightly around his leaking member and using both hands to grip himself as he thrusted into your shirt. Your scent mixing with his own caused Mephisto to let out an embarrassingly needy moan, one he would never own up to if questioned.

A sudden thought occurred in his mind, what if you returned and found your shirt missing? The possibility of not finishing fast enough and getting caught only spurred him on, imagining the look on your face, how mad you would be, fuck you were so hot when you were angry. Jerking himself to the thought of you yelling at him, the anger in your voice sent him over the edge and his orgasm ripped through him, ropes of cum spilling onto your shirt, the sight only coaxing more out of him. Once his balls were empty he unwrapped your shirt from his cock and took in the sight, once nice and clean but now covered in his cum, covered in his scent. Mephisto looked back at the cabana, still empty minus the slumbering youngest, and made his way back over to return what he borrowed.

…

“Asmo will you help me reapply my sunscreen?”

“Of course hun! I can’t let you burn that beautiful skin of yours~”

“Tch, why’s he get to do it?? He did it last time!” Mammon argues as your group walks back to the cabana.

“Because Levi would either pass out or cream his pants if I asked him and your hands tend to wander where they don’t belong because you’re a greedy little perv.” You tease.

“What did I do??” Levi screeched in defense, his face turning bright red from your accusation.

“Yeah well…my hands belong there more than Asmo’s…” the second born mumbles in response while running a hand through his hair. You knew the affect you had on the brothers dressed like this, they had a hard time keeping their hands off you under normal circumstances but beach trips always made them all turn into handsy pervs; all but Asmo somehow.

The two now grumpy brothers take off to the water again while you hand Asmo the sunscreen bottle, after he finishes covering your back he heads down to the water himself. You hang back for a moment to let the lotion dry and notice your tank top hanging off the edge of the table, you reach to pick it up and immediately regret the choice. Your hand is instantly covered in a thick substance, one you’re all too familiar with thanks to the local panty thieves you live with, and you try to figure out which one did it this time.

You shove Belphie’s sleeping body with your foot, the way he jostles around tells you he’s been in a deep sleep since you guys arrived, Mammon and Leviathan have been with you the entire time, Satan and Beelzebub have been off competing in some game and while they’ve marked your belongings before you know neither of them would do so in public. Asmodeus always behaves himself around you at the beach— he would rather mark you than your clothes anyway— so you rule him out. Lucifer has been chatting with Diavolo since you arrived, his way of staying distracted and away from you while looking so tempting, you realize none of the brothers could have done this and become repulsed. What sick demon decided to mess with your shit while you were away? You drop the shirt and sneer at it, as you turn to go find Lucifer you spot something from the corner of your eye that makes your blood boil.

Over near the cliff side stands that jackass Mephistopheles, looking much more smug and pompous than usual. You assume he just watched your unfortunate discovery and is now laughing at your discomfort, but then you read his features a little more. His body leaned against the massive rocks a little too relaxed, his eyes a little softer than usual, his arms crossed and his head tilted just slightly as he smirks. You’ve seen that exact look before several times from Belphie, usually when he’s being a brat, usually right after you find out that he—

You sick freak!

Your blood runs hot, your eyes go wide with rage, you grab your cum stained shirt and start off towards that smug ass demon. You watch as he snaps back to reality seeing you approach him, his face flashes concern for about .7 seconds before turning into a look of disgust per usual. You feel the rage from the last several months of dealing with him start to surface, you’ve held your tongue for far too long; he’s about to get more than he bargained for. You stop just short of him and suppress the urge to slap that look off his face, your brows furrow and fists clench in rage.

“Whatever you want make it quick. I don’t want anyone to see me socializing with you.” God he’s such a dick. Your eye twitches at his words, making it seem like your not worthy of his time after doing this.

“You know exactly why I’m standing here!” You hold up your fist that grips tightly onto your top.

“What? Did someone touch your stuff?” The smirk on his lips grows.

“You know exactly who did this!” You snap.

“Afraid not.” He scoffs and looks away. It’s a lie, obviously he knows. He still remembers how it felt wrapped around his leaking cock, he still remembers the high he felt releasing himself onto it. His scent is so strong that he’s surprised the brothers didn’t smell it when returning to the cabana, you can’t pick up on scents the way demons can and for that he’s grateful, maybe he can still get away with it; so long as you don’t notice the tent in his pants that grows with each word you spit at him in anger. “Maybe you shouldn’t leave your shit unattended while you go around dressed like a—”

His sentence cut off as your hand makes contact with his cheek, the impact loud enough to be heard yards away, the palm of your hand burns from the force behind it, the satisfaction you feel is strong but short lived; quickly replaced by shock and confusion. The sound of your slap is loud, but the moan that Mephistopheles releases is louder. You assume at first he’s just being a dick again, making fun of you for slapping him, but soon register that something else is happening here. His eyes stay closed even after the slap, his cheeks flush, his lips twitch to fight off a smile, his arms had uncrossed and now gripped the wall behind him, you glance down and notice the obvious bulge in his shorts.

So, he likes it rough?

Your blood runs hot but for an entirely different reason now, you shame yourself for being turned on by him of all demons, but then admit that this is too good an opportunity to pass up. He opens his eyes just barely and looks down at you in a way that makes you want to rip him to shreds.

I can work with that.

You grab his face with your free hand, jerking him down to your level, he groans softly but doesn’t fight back against your hold.

Whore.

You look him dead in the eyes and hold your stained shirt up close to his face.

“You did this didn’t you?” You press. He glances over at your shirt quickly and then back to you, eyes wandering over your face and lingering on your lips, he nods yes and gives you another slight smirk. You release his face and shove him against the wall behind him, your hand pressing into his chest while your eyes stay locked on his. Mephisto groans again, arching his back slightly as his eyes flutter shut, only to open them again to your steely gaze. You press your body close to his, feeling yourself throb as soon as his erection presses against your thigh, your mind clouds while trying to guess just how big he is under those stupid shorts.

“Why’d you do it?” You move your face in closer to his. “To be an asshole? Or are you just another sick perverted demon who likes humans?”

You watch him sneer and roll his eyes as his flush deepens, using his own words against him was a sick move; he fucking loved you for it. “Answer me.” You command. He writhes against you, another soft groan leaving his throat as he does his best to look smug and not unabashedly horny while he answers .

“I don’t like getting off on my own.” He nearly moans in response. “Wanted your scent to help me.”

Your free hand grabs onto his throat, his eyes roll back and mouth falls open while he bucks into you lightly. You refrain from grinding against him and pull him down towards you again so you can reach his ear.

“Next time you want help, just ask.” You practically growl at him. With the brothers you’re normally much more gentle and kind, but this one demon makes something inside you come to life; he makes you feel more demonic than anything else down here. “But since you like being a gross pervert,” you pry his mouth open and shove your shirt in. “You can clean this for me.”

Mephisto moans as you shove your shirt in his mouth, your fingers pressing against his tongue, the taste of his own cum filling his mouth, his hands grab onto your hips and pull you closer to his own. You chuckle softly as he starts rutting against you, short muffled moans continuing as he starts to suck on the fabric wrapped around your fingers. After all the harassment from him you revel in the way he breaks under you like this, watching him turn into a needy little toy for you to use, the fire in your body takes over finally.

You latch onto his neck and bite down harshly, drinking in the loud moan he releases and feeling his voice vibrate against your fingers. Your free hand lets go of his neck and snakes down between your bodies to brush lightly over his cock, he bucks into your touch instantly but you move away before he can. A pathetic whine escaping him while his thighs squeeze together, you run your hand up under his shirt exploring his toned stomach but not stopping until you reach his chest.

His breath hitches as your hand caresses his pec and one hand shoots up to grab your wrist in an attempt to stop you, it’s obvious someone doesn’t want you to find out how much of a whore he is, you shake him off and continue towards your goal. You trace circles around it first, teasing and edging him before finally running a nail gently across his nipple. The moan that leaves Mephistopheles would probably rival Asmodeus if it wasn’t muffled by your shirt in his mouth, his body bucks wildly against you desperate for more, he starts to pant while his hands grab at your body. He’s clearly pent up and craving release if he’s willing to act this shameless in front of you, you almost feel bad for him…almost.

You pull away from his neck and jerk his head to look at you again, a pathetic and needy look in his eyes as he continues to suck on your fingers. His tongue is thick and licks at your digits greedily, you envision how it would feel against your wet folds, how he would suck on your clit just as desperately as he does your fingers, a shiver runs down your spine and you let a sultry moan leave your lips just to see how he reacts. Mephisto’s eyes go wide and when he moans this time he opens his mouth wide enough to let his tongue loll out, you shove your shirt further into his mouth stuffing him full.

“You better stay quiet unless you want someone to know your getting off with a filthy human.” You hiss in his ear. You grab hold of one of his wrists and bring his hand up to squeeze your chest, his fingers sink into to the plush skin and you gasp as he starts to fondle your breast on his own. Your hand snakes back down to his shorts but this time you reach in to pull out his cock, your hand wraps around his shaft and you feel yourself throb again at his girth, Mephisto’s body goes stiff at your touch. You can feel him throbbing against your palm, you run your thumb against the thick vein on his underside and watch him squirm and whimper as you do.

You finally pull him free of his shorts, you look down to see just how big he is and let out a breathy moan, he’s far bigger than you would’ve imagined and his girth alone makes your legs shake. His tip is steadily leaking precum and his shaft is already coated in the slick, you run your hand up slowly and listen to Mephisto choke on his own moans. You squeeze lightly on his tip and run your thumb across his slit, he bucks frantically into your hand trying to get more from you.

“Don’t be greedy.” You order, letting go of his leaking cock. Mephisto whines as you release him but quickly gets over it when he feels his throbbing length rest against your lower stomach, the feeling of your soft skin and still damp bottoms making his head spin. His hand slips under your top and pulls at your nipple as he ruts against you, his slick coating your stomach and making it easier for him to hump you. You moan at his touch, the way he harshly pulls and flicks your nipple sending a wave of lust through your body, you grab his cock again and start stroking him just as harshly. Mephisto’s hand twitches on your breast and his head falls to the side as he becomes lost in the way you pump him closer to his orgasm.

Consumed by your own lust and greed you use your other hand to pull your bottoms to the side, a cruel and wicked idea in mind. You slow your strokes and instead graze his tip along your soaked folds, letting it catch against your clit and moaning at the sensation. Mephisto arches his back and tries desperately to buck into you each time his tip glides across your entrance, you refuse to grant him the satisfaction though. Continuing to tease him and yourself, your other hand now reaches up to play with his chest again, you listen to the usually stuck up demon turn into a whimpering mess, you’re barely able to make out a string of very muffled Fuck, please! as you quicken your pace. You reach up to pull your shirt out of his mouth and listen to him gasp before slumping against you and moaning into your neck.

“Fuck! Shit! Aaahhhhaaa, fuck! Faster, faster, go faster!” Mephisto begs, his one hand still groping your breast while the other reaches down to grip your ass. You fulfill his wish and stroke him quickly again while running his leaking tip through your folds still, your mind goes fuzzy as your own desire builds and you give into temptation. You pop his swollen head into your pussy and clench at the way he stretches you, gasping and moaning at the same time.

“FUUUUCK!” Mephisto growls against you, his abs clenching as he tries to fight off his climax hoping you’ll give him more. You want more, so much more, but your pride won’t allow that…not now at least. You pull his hair to adjust his face so you can latch onto his lips, stealing harsh kisses and letting him slip his tongue into your mouth, melting at the way his moans vibrate into you. The two of you becoming completely lost in each other, swirling your tongues around one another and grinding desperately against the other.

You bite down on Mephisto’s bottom lip and tug at it as you stroke him through his orgasm, his body shaking and knees going weak as ropes of his cum cover your stomach, thighs and hand. His head is spinning in the aftermath and he watches you clean off with your soiled shirt through half lidded eyes, he slumps against the wall behind him trying to ground himself. He’s pissed at himself for letting you do this to he him, for letting you make him feel so damn good, but he’s hurt that you would deny him the full experience. You can see the glint of betrayal in his eyes and can’t help but smirk, you grab his face gently this time and let out a satisfied laugh.

“I have better demons to play with at home.” You give an overly condescending wink before releasing your hold. He scoffs and tries to snap back at you but his body is still reeling from the earth shattering orgasm you just pulled out of him. You blow him a teasing kiss and make your way back to the cabana, stuffing your soaked shirt in your bag in order to hide it from the brothers.

Mammon, of course, finds you first and is immediately flushed. His eyes scan over your body, your arousal is strong enough to send every demon nearby into a frenzy, or at least enough to make Belphie wake up from his nap.

“What’s got you turned on?” The youngest asks while sitting up finally.

“The hell are you askin her that for!” Mammon snaps.

“If you shut up I’ll let you help me, Mammon.” You interject, grabbing his wrist and pulling him away from the cabana. “Not like that’s a question though.”

…

Mephistopheles watches you lead the second born off somewhere, undoubtedly to let him fuck you until you can’t think anymore, his stomach churns at the thought. It should be him between your legs fucking you numb, it should be his name you cry out as you cum, it should be his scent covering you. Mephisto let’s out a deep groan in annoyance, he hates that you consume his thoughts like this but he loves the way you feel against his body. Maybe he will ask you for help next time, in an empty classroom back at the school.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me mephistopheles #obey me mephisto smut #obey me mephisto x reader #obey me mephistopheles smut

802 notes · View notes

knithell · 11 months

Text

The only thing in this world that catches my gaze is you…

This is what I imagine when Providence showed Mephistopheles what a beach on earth was like for the first time. (Maybe trying to show him what the earth looked like and this pale ginger man got super sunburnt…). Also I know!!! They are wearing!!! Modernish clothing!!! But if heaven is super advanced surely they invented bikinis and sunglasses before humans…? (Just an excuse to dress them in summer wear really…)

#knithell #w2h #mephistopheles #mephistopheles w2h #welcome to hell #erica wester #meph w2h #meph #prov #providence #providence w2h #w2h film #also this is the sketch ive been holding onto #proveles #providence x mephistopheles #i want them both sorry #he gets all flustered from her so now his hair is just flames

99 notes · View notes

hasmephydoneanythingwrong · 1 year

Text

Fate Fanservant: Bruce Cipher (Caster), the Summer Zirkusdirektor

A lot of this is going to be me spitballing, so don't expect full paragraphs. At best, you'll get a handful of coherent ideas at a time.

Ascension Stages

All of them are male-presenting, but still drawn as "anime twinks."

Stage 1:

Obligatory swimsuit stage (Will I even include this in the end? Maybe he’ll be a welfare with the Stage 2 design.)

Just swim trunks, with visible top surgery scars (This is the only thing keeping me from going with the welfare idea.)

He knows he can technically look like whatever he wants, but he decided to add the scars anyway as a mark of pride.

Stage 2:

Now we're getting into the good stuff.

Lolita-style ringmaster outfit, directly ripped off from Koyanskaya of Darkness's second ascension

(Picrew source, this isn’t the final design)

Traits

Class: Caster

Alternate Classes: Avenger, Berserker, Foreigner

Region: North America

Alignment: Chaotic Summer

Deck: QAAAB

Parameters

Strength: E

Endurance: <to be decided>

Agility: <to be decided>

Mana: A++

Luck: B+++

Noble Phantasm: A+

Passive Skills

Right-Hand Clown (Rankless)

Apply immunity to Charm.

Increase range of Active Skills and Noble Phantasm to include all [Mephistopheles] allies.

Lowers own Attack against all [Mephistopheles] allies.

Existence Outside the Domain D

The boost from the Foreigner class has been removed.

Gain 2 critical stars every turn.

Increase your debuff resistance by 4%.

Territory Creation B+

Bruce's "territory" consists of a small circus tent and its props. As expected of Territory Creation, however, it does not account for the circus crew. Therefore, Bruce has taken to forming a "troupe" out of whoever he deems fit.

Increase your own Arts Card effectiveness by 9%.

Item Construction D+

Bruce's new ringmaster cane takes up most of the energy for this skill, but he can briefly create prank items and toy weapons that can be used only once.

Increase your own Debuff Success Rate by 5%.

Active Skills

Mystic Eyes of Story Perception A

Changing from Foreigner to Caster decreased this skill's ranking slightly.

Chance to inflict Skill Seal upon one Servant opponent

Chance to decrease NP Strength for one Servant opponent

Summer Euphoria EX

A combat-optimized manifestation of rejoice from the different body type granted by this Spirit Origin. This change, while Bruce accepts that it is temporary, causes his confidence to skyrocket. However, his enthusiasm creates an unintentional "firewall" against bodies similar to his usual one.

Grants self Invincibility that grants a chance to ignore each attack for turns (similar to "The Beauty of Trouble With Women"), but only against Female and Feminine-Looking enemies

Lock Command Cards for three turns, but only if a Brave Chain from Bruce Cipher (Caster) is possible.

Let Your Freak Flag Fly! (rank to be decided)

Apply Special Attack against Human enemies for all [Monstrous] allies. (Heroic Spirits like Babbage, Xiang Yu, etc.)

Apply Flat Damage Reduction against Human enemies for all [Monstrous] allies.

If applicable, remove Non-Hominidae trait from any [Monstrous] allies.

Noble Phantasm Ideas

"Grand finale" that increases or even flat-out doubles drops from battle

The entire "troupe" comes together, increasing the number of Heroic Spirits on your side of the battlefield by however many [Monstrous] sub-members you have.

Support Arts NP with high chance to inflict "Hysterics" debuff to all enemies (increases length of enemy's Charge bar by 1)

Lean into the anti-Human niche?

Voice Line Ideas

Battle Start: It's time for a night that you will never forget.

Skill: Hoo hoo! The curtain shall fall on your miserable little time here.

Bond Level 1 (Unlocks through increasing Bond Levels): Ehe. Ehehehehe! Have you lost your nerve, "Master?" …What's the matter, not a fan of callbacks?

Conversation 2 (Requires Mephistopheles [Caster] or Mephistopheles [Assassin]): "Ah, mein traunes... my verntrauenswürtiger... my, uh... mein teufel! Mein trusty teufel! It's good to see you! S-sorry... I definitely got the word wrong, didn't I?"

Conversation 3 (Requires Mephistopheles [Pretender], Stage 1-2): <to be decided>

Conversation 4 (Requires Mephistopheles [Pretender], Stage 3): Ah, my precious teufel. What's with the outfit? Verrry fancy! Don't tell me you picked that out to impress me, did you? Aheeheehee!

Conversation 5 (Requires Abigail Williams [Summer]): <to be decided>

Conversation 6 (Requires a [Monstrous] Servant, with some exceptions): <to be decided>

Conversation 7 (Requires Mysterious Heroine X, Mysterious Heroine XX, Okita Souji, Okita J. Souji, Hijikata, Saito Hajime, or Yamanami Keisuke): What are you, a cop? Piss off.

Conversation 12 (Requires the Snow Queen): Mm? Have I always had the capacity to be this... brutal? Do I... Do I even have the strength?

During an Event (???): Hoo-whee! Events sure are busy things! Hm? Master, what are you doing here!? There're places to go! People to see! Let's get this trainwreck a-rollin', ahaha!

5 notes · View notes

shredsandpatches · 8 months

Text

feeling regretful that even if I someday am able to direct a production of Doctor Faustus it will not have a costume budget that will allow me to put Mephistopheles in tabi boots

#doctor faustus #hot faust summer #mephistopheles monday #alas #my twitter feed was doing memes about those things all day #and that's just where my mind went

70 notes · View notes

tavstavernofdisasterbisexuals · 1 month

Note

Hihi!!! This is mainly for shits and giggles, but here's my lovely tav as tribute! (Plus her pre-bg3 sheet) +(Her more modernized sheet)

She is a Mephistopheles teifling, bard in the college of lore. Here's her backstory!!!

She began to apprentice under volo, a chosen of mystra- whom she promptly pissed off in a grand usage of the weave to find volo in a pocket realm to chuck a sandal at his head, due to a previous disagreement. She turned to cyric with a heavy heart and vowed to piss off any mystra worshiper she comes across, labeling them as "snub-nosed twats who decay faster than sweet berries in summer" note: her story changes every time she tells it

Hope that helps!!!!

Hi I am finally back

Why she so pretty, why she look so sleepy in the last one I love it, she's just a cute tiefling girl, I love when tieflings have odd legs they are one of my favourite design elements

Love the goat motif around her design! I did a mix with all the drawings, I hope you don't mind! I loove her colour scheme in the more modernized one! So I used that one primarily ksjhdalj

I also tried my best with her horns since there are two variations from what I saw

Also, lovely style! I will always respect anyone who can do lineless (I struggle with it a bit)

#The Tavern Draws your Tav #TTDYT Batch 2 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #tav #not my tav

13 notes · View notes

fuckitwebhaal · 7 months

Text

Piety Lore

Piety is a Mephistopheles tiefling born in a place and time that they can no longer recall. Much of their life before entering the Feywild is fragmented and disjointed, but he recalls this much: he once had a sister who loved him very dearly, and it was for her sake that they went wandering into the realm of the fey. It was perhaps for love that they lost everything in the land of whimsy and dreams.

The Feywild is an ever-changing, ever-tempting place, and its denizens are much the same. A mortal in the land of faerie, they stood little chance the further and further they wandered; eventually, Piety was lost, and he became as much part of the Feywild as it was of him. Fey-touched, one might call them, and one would be correct. His appearance in the realm is half-mortal, half-fey, and entirely strange.

Piety knows not how long he spent in the Feywild. They cannot recall how many feasts in which they partook, nor dances that they shared with satyrs, nor secrets whispered between pixie and boggart. Piety cannot recall how often he was called upon to sing and perform for fey lords and knights, nor can they recall how many loves they harbored, drunk on faerie-wine and stealing kisses in rings of mushrooms. It was not until they met another mortal—a sorcerer whose wild magic mistakenly surged and brought them to the Feywild—that Piety realized how they had been tricked.

What followed was a series of ill-gotten deals with lesser fey and their lieges. So much was traded, in fact, that Piety can no longer recall their True Name, and many of their memories from before their time in the Feywild have been stolen or lost. Desperation sharpened him, however, and so he abandoned his position in Titania’s Summer Court and fled, mistrusting the Seelie, and ran right into the Winter Court. He could not have known how much worse the Unseelie Court would be.

There, Piety brokered a deal with the Archfey known as the Prince of Frost. Although contemptuous of mortals, he is known to broker pacts with warlocks (who are known as Long Night Scions), provided they can help him further his aims of bringing about an eternal, endless winter. Piety’s pact, and its goals, are more inscrutable, and its terms are such that they are reluctant to share.

In simple words, their pact is clear: Piety must serve the Archfey for 1,001 days, and upon completion, they are free. He is able to return to the mortal realm and live out the rest of his mortal life as he always wanted. Any breach, however, and he is doomed to serve the Winter Court for 1,001 years.

This was sealed by an icy kiss upon his forehead, and he was given a cold iron sword as proof of his pact. It is painful to other fey who might try to prohibit his work on behalf of the Prince of Frost, and it is inscribed with a countdown of the days remaining in service; every morning, the writing changes.

Unlike devils, Piety signed no contract, and dealt with no clauses. Instead, their pact was swore in the form of a poem, and sealed in the form of a kiss. Fey are tricky creatures, and as much as Piety might try to find a loophole to get themself out of the deal, so might the fey have a loophole to keep him in it. For now, he has served as piously as he can.

But the Fey are also jealous, and mercurial. Despite Piety growing closer and closer to the end of their servitude, and despite their struggles with the tadpole and the growing threat of the Absolute cult, so are they noticing representatives of the Prince of Frost hounding their steps. Rumors have begun to reach his ears; rumors that his Archfey patron has memories that belong to him, memories that he can get back. With the fey, however, nothing is truly free.

“Fare thee well, Son of Summer For thine lips ne’er knew another; I grant thee days in the sun And number to them: 1,001; Mind thy step and keep thy path Lest thee herald winter’s wrath; Thy freedom be what is held dear Render my service by thine year; Thou shalt not scorn nor turn to bliss I seal thy fate with winter’s kiss.”

#long post #oc lore #oc: piety #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 oc #bg3 tav #archfey warlock #tiefling #warlock #archfey patron #the prince of frost #forgotten realms #dnd oc

24 notes · View notes

3xm-draconic · 4 months

Text

Pampered (werebat and Astarion story)

Pampered.

Summary: After a very bloody fight at Moonrise Towers the gang stops by a river to clean up, Cyris decides to pamper his vampire and Astarion does the same...

“Oh gods…” Jaheira shuttered as she covered her nose “we all stink like a butcher shop in summer!” she gagged.

Cyris didn’t mind the smell of hot, fresh blood that clung to his skin nor the actual gore that still remained there, nor did he mind the sight of it on his little vampiric lover, Astarion.

The way the slick glossy crimson clung to his pale skin…

It reminded Cyris of strawberry syrup on fresh whipped cream~...

Shit…he was getting hungry…

“We all need bath!” Allegra grumbled, “oh hells” Roger muttered “I’d rather dip myself in the styx than take a bath”, “well I’d like to get goblin and mind flayer guts out of my hair” Shadowheart mumbled as she flicked away pieces of the foes they had killed out of her hair “seriously Cyris did you have to…obliterate them?”.

Cyris thought back on the brutal fight…

Ketheric Thorm was the crazy bitch who seemed…unkillable…and yet was made mortal after all.

Crazy, Crazy, Crazy bastard...

Seemingly killed himself to summon Myrkul, The Lord of Bones, to try and stop them from…well stopping this freaky chick Orin and…well another of Cyris’s exs…Gortash.

Interesting how Cyris was bumping into so many of them…his old flames.

The fight was…scary…

Not because they were LITERALLY fighting a death-god…but…because all his friends were downed…

Say for him…

It was just Cyris and…death…in that moment.

Not his death, Myrkul could keep trying but the enchanted binding tattoos mephistopheles had imbued into Cyris’s flesh would just keep him coming back…but his friend’s deaths…Astarion’s death…

Their mortality…

It was something that…broke him?…in that moment.

No…not broke…

He was already a broken man, no, seeing them…helpless.

It reforged something in him, a will to protect…

In that moment Cyris swore he felt something…in him…burn.

A fire that had once long thought been extinguished, his…desire to help, desire to nurture…

He wanted to see Gale grow from his mistakes, move on from Mystra and show Shadowheart his cat.

He wanted Halsin and Lae’zel to open that animal sanctuary they had been talking about together.

He wanted Roger and Allegra to open their very own bar together.

He wanted Wyll and Karlach to get married like he had heard Wyll talk about.

He…he…

He wanted to introduce Astarion to his mother…to his family…

He felt Yondalla’s strength in him, her shield was at his back in that moment…

He also felt the fury of The Great Guardian Bat, the primal rage, the instinctive nature to defend…

It was not the simple hunger of blood that drove him to defeat a FUCKING GOD…

It was not Rage of repressed issues, stress or simple insanity…

It was…stupid as it sounded…

Love.

He loved them…Astarion mostly…but he loved all of them.

“...I guess I did overdo it, Shads” he chuckled.

They wandered the surface again, happy to be out of the underdark till they found a nice, slow-moving stream “alright…um…everyone is going to be off to clean up then?” Gale awkwardly mumbled as he rummaged around for soap and a new set of robes in his backpack, “well…I wouldn’t mind you washing my back, Stormcloud~” Shadowheart cood as she sauntered past Gale to a secluded spot near the river.

Everyone paired off (except for Jaheira) and whent to the river to bathe…except for Cyris And Astarion, Cyris had something else planned…

Cyris had found a bag of holding and had crammed a bunch of shit in it, one item inside was a folding collapsible boat. “Cyris, what are you doing?”

Astarion pondered as he stripped down to his undergarments, “I’am making an makeshift bathtub for for you sugarfangs~” he hummed sweetly, Astarion smiled “how sweet~” he paused “I don’t…I don’t suppose you could make the water warm could you?” he asked curiously.

Cyris Showed Astarion the large metal pot of water he had set aside, “I’ll use heat metal just long enough to warm it up darlin, not too hot for ya” he nuzzled the vampire, “I even squirreled away some things I found in moonrise towers I think you’ll like~”.

Astarion eased himself into the…odd contraption…but the warm water was soothing and helped ease the bruises from the battle “Ahhh~” he sighed contently.

Cyris got out two ornate little bottles “milk and honey or lavender and spice?” He showed the bottles to him, they were bottles of high quality bodywash and shampoo.

“How did you get those?” Astarion pondered, “Duergar like all dwarves have pride in their hair and beards, I bargained for these off the ones we helped kill that drow prick” He got out an ornate chest “I bargained for a few beauty items…”

Astarion loved this.

He loved being absolutely pampered like this…

Soaking in a warm bubbly bath, with a clay mask on his face, Cyris manicuring his nails and his aches and pains just melting away.

“Mmmm~ this is a delight, thanks Cy I definitely needed this after fighting Thorm” Astarion hummed, “I know darlin…” Cyris trailed off.

Astarion sat up “Cyris?”, “...Starry…I just, back there…I could have lost you…” Cyris said his voice full of worry “I could have lost all of you”.

Astarion sighed and cupped Cyris’s face in his hands “I know darling, it frightened me too, I was so scared, not because I was dying but because I saw you so…panicked..so helpless” Asiarion hugged him, they were both naked so there was no worry of getting their clothes (new or old) wet “but we’re ok now” he smiled.

Cyris smiled and hugged him tightly back “and I’am never letting anything hurt you or them like that again” he softly said.

Astarion got out and dried off, he felt fresh and invigorated, As he brushed his hair he saw Cyris dumped the old bath and prepared his own, “Cyris~” Astarion murmured “you pampered me, I think I should pamper you too”, “ah sugarfangs you don’t-”, Astarion kissed him “I insist darling~”.

Astarion helped Cyris wash and brush his long mane of thick black hair “I love your hair, it's just as soft as your werebat fur” Astarion hummed, “well that's what it’s basically is” Cyris laughed, Astarion rolled his eyes “I know, I was just saying that…well..you are soft, I find your fuzz to be…well…comforting”.

After bathing everyone met back to set up camp and cook lunch.

“So…you have a vampire AND a werebat on the team?” Jaheira pondered, scratching her head “and they are not evil?”

“No we are not” Astarion said, annoyed at her comment, “we may not be the best people, but we aren’t the worst of the world” Cyris shrugged.

“They are good deep down, once you get past all the mudery bits, we trust them so you can too” Gale informed her, “...ah, fine” she grumbled.

It was another full moon that night…

Cyris was forced to be stuck in werebat form for the entirety of the night.

Cyris couldn’t really do anything, he wanted to help around camp but he was too big and only had his sharp clawed thumbs.

….useless…

“Darling~ come here for a moment” Astarion cooed.

Cyris crawled over carefully so he would not bump into anything in camp, he had to be weary of his immense size.

“Darling~ Iam feeling a little…well a little down, could I cuddle with you?” Astarion pleaded with big sparkling ruby eyes.

Cyris chirped and unfolded his wings, he embraced his little vampire in a warm hug and laid down in their tent as best he could.

…mmm~ happy now…

The Astarion was curled up safe and warm in his big werebat boyfriend’s wings, buried in his fluff and gently squishing his face “who’s the most handsome and cutest creature of the night?”, he squeaked happily and nuzzled him, “that's right, you are darling~” Astarion kissed his lover’s big leaf-shaped nose.

“You are my big beautiful bat~” he smiled.

#baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #dnd character #dnd #oc #astarion x oc #werebat #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #soft astarion

8 notes · View notes

coffeecakecatt · 1 year

Photo

Mephistopheles got a command code for the Valentine’s event in JP and I’m so excited because this means that he’s in the event. And I’ve been reading it as it comes out, and there’s been a lot of allusion to Mephistopheles in it, and he relates super heavily to what the core themes are and I cannot stop thinking about this event and theorizing about how it’s gonna turn out.

It’s all very weird, and almost there, and dream-like just wading at the edge of reading as the proper reality. Johanna is absolutely a person that Mephistopheles would sympathize with, and want to help in some way because she’s an entirely fictional person. And Mephistopheles cares about creations. He loves narrative servants and those created to fill a specific role. He’s friends with Nursery Rhyme and Moriarty. He helped Enkidu find their identity in their interlude. He killed Frankenstein in London and left Fran alive so she could go have an adventure with the Master. I’m sure he’d care for Johanna too.

I think the event is a dream that Mephistopheles has made for Johanna because she wants to be a real girl, a real person, and she made a deal with the devil to grant this wish. It’s about what it means to be human, and what things are core to being real as a person, which absolutely parallels with Meph who is a homunculus who was made too human. He would know what it means to be human and want to be a real human being, since he’s an artificial being who was denied by his own creator. Not to mention that Mephistopheles controls dreams, has made micro-singularities in the past (which this event is) for other servant’s interludes, and is someone who challenges characters’ core values and morals. And everything feels just kind of off in the event, alluding to it not being how it seems. Johanna is just established to be there - no fan-fare, nothing, like it’s perfectly normal and reasonable that she’s in Chaldea providing Valentine’s blessings, even though that goes against her role in Traum. Goredolf is fully confident, he doesn’t seem to care about any holiday shenanigans, and everyone is really easily and casually ushered into what everyone thinks is going to be a very simple chill micro-singularity.

Mash is in the event, but Mash isn’t really...getting as much of the spotlight as she usually gets. She’s only on screen for two or three dialogue boxes at most, she’s almost exclusively nudging you onto the path of the story, and she’s not getting her usual long Mash getting to say her opinion on things. Which, is how Mash acted in Mephistopheles’ interlude, where Mephistopheles made a fake Mash to keep the Master on track in his dream, and the Master didn’t notice. Which is something that is REALLY HARD to do and Mephistopheles has shown he CAN do, in the past.

Another thing - Nursery Rhyme is there! Only four servants were compatible to Rayshift: Rama, Jalter Santa Lily, Nursery Rhyme, and Johanna. Nursery Rhyme has been unphased by every weird thing to far. She’s just rolled with it a little too well, which would make sense, because Mephistopheles would need a storybook to help him write a story for Johanna.

And, there’s been a lot of Alice in Wonderland comparisons and references. And music specifically from Jeanne’s Casino in Las Vegas Summer, a place that Mephistopheles helped run, Nursery Rhyme took part in plays, and it was a casino run by a Saint who was having her time as a real girl.

The whole event is also in the perspective of a narrative, like a book, being recounted to you by Johanna with little narrative cut-ins from her at key intervals of her experiences. While there are dialogue options to choose, nothing is from their perspective. Any time we get narration, it’s from Johanna’s point of view.

Johanna also acts strangely. She knows things without evidence, and immediately pegs the grail in the basement of the Singularity’s church as evil, stops a mysterious sorcerer from wishing on it, and has her own wish prioritized over the initial wish that was going to be bad for the Human Order. A wish that Johanna claims she doesn’t even have, because she’s a Ruler and a Saint.

Then that wish caused a giant statue of her to be erected in the middle of the tiny peaceful town and now she’s beloved as Love Love Johanna-Sama!

Everyone has a little fun laugh as Johanna is in agony and embarrassment over this idea of being beloved and worshipped in such a loud and larger than life way, but I think she’s actually kind of flattered by it. She’s just grappling with this idea of only wanting what a Saint would, rather then what she actually wants. Because I think that Johanna wished to be a real girl, and to be a real girl she has to be known, and she has to be loved, and she has to accept that love.

Love is what defines the weight of her life, and she has to accept and carry that love with her (in a little bag of luggage she’s given) in order to actually be real. Which is what Mephistopheles is giving her, I think. He’s giving Johanna her wish of being a real girl for Valentine’s day. TLDR: I’m pretty sure Mephistopheles has crafted an elaborate dream to grant Johanna’s wish to be a real person. Which means she has to learn what it means to be human. Love defines if you matter and are real, not the classification of reality of fiction.

#fgo #fate grand order #fgo meta #fgo jp #fgo jp spoilers #fate #mephistopheles #mephistopheles fgo #johanna #pope johanna #pope johanna fgo #johanna fgo #rambling #fgo rambling

47 notes · View notes