cringecannon

[cringecannon]

hello non-bg3 heads I've officially made a second blog for my Whatever The Fuck fics <3333

If you sent something in for a new fandom all the way back in pervtober, I'll be filling those on the new blog instead!

#fallout heads to the front please i binged the show and am rewatching and i am OBSESSED. #.announcements

[cringecannon]

thinking about gortash & him chaining you up and being so so normal about it

It’s better for everyone- how else can he trust that you won’t run off while he's busy? He's more than aware of the kind of trouble you can get yourself into. This really is the most sensible option.

His gauntlet taps against the iron manacle holding your wrists together, sneering down at you. Quit glaring. You look better when you smile. His free hand grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to meet his eyes.

If you can't manage that look, he doesn't mind scared.

#apologies for the lag in posts i got obsessed with the fallout show and i'm heavily considering a second blog for random fics because uh. #bark! I need that cowboy more than I need air #.enver gortash #.bg3

[cringecannon]

Haarlep would gag you then tell you to use your words while having their wicked, wicked way with you as you writhe underneath them from overstimulation.

The game truly is simple. All you have to do is say a single thing clear enough for them to understand, they really don’t get what you’re struggling with.

You ache. Their mouth follows you wherever you manage to crawl to, trying to bring you to as many orgasms as they can manage before you fall unconscious. The gag in your mouth stretches your jaw uncomfortably, muffling every plead and beg for them to stop.

You manage to flip onto your front and away from them, but the relief only lasts a second. They wrap their arms around your waist and yank you back against their face. They said it earlier, darling. They’d be more than happy to stop if you just asked. They’d never want to make you uncomfortable.

#.haarlep #.bg3 #notsfw

[cringecannon]

We need more Haarlep love... They're so cute.. and evil..

I like the HC that they can adjust the size of their cock... So imagine Raphael's already painful cock, but while Haarlep is holding you down and nonconning you (as punishment for sneaking into the house,, they want Raphael to give them more rewards~ <3) it suddenly gets bigger, longer, the spikes flare up... The knot somehow gets EVEN bigger... You can't escape, you'll be bred by Raphael's incubus... And when he comes home he'll have to breed you himself..

If anything, they’re doing you a favor. Sex with Raphael would be unpleasant at best… so, out of the goodness of their heart, they’ll get you broken in.

Aren’t they sweet?

Misery flows through you. You can feel your pulse between your legs from the ache of them stretching you out, just as unbearable as when they first started. Anytime you finally start to adjust, they swell inside you again and ensure you don’t get a second of relief.

If you hold your breath for a moment and focus, you can identify some of the different pains. Being stretched out like this is a searing, terrible feeling, not helped at all by their uncomfortably hot body temperature. The raw, torn up feeling from the spikes is ever present. Even after they shifted their form and dulled the edges, the stinging sensation still hasn’t gone away.

They had changed their form over and over again, adjusting to keep you in the worst possible state they could. It required concentration- too little, and you get your fight back. Too much, and you’d lose consciousness. You almost did when they had tried knotting you the second time. You can’t give up this early, little mouse. It will be hours until Raphael comes to play, and they can’t have you ruining all their hard work.

#in my head I’ve always wanted to slip in fucky haarlep shapeshifting but never felt like the time is right #like me personally i’d love if while they were hitting it they randomly grew a pair of tits or their claws get sharper or literallyanything #i just never knew whether it’d be too self indulgent #.haarlep #.bg3 #notsfw

[cringecannon]

I'm obsessed with Rolan lately, have anything for him? Something about the enemies to lovers hate sex hook ups that got me fucking goooinnnggg. I want him drunk at last light taking out all his frustrations on poor hero Tav

After the argument and harsh reprimand at the bar, you obviously couldn't just let him wander off on his own. You ask your travel companions to stay behind a moment, ignoring the huff of derision from Astarion as you leave. It's hard to make out every word, but you're sure it's something about how you don't always have to shove yourself into everyone's problems. It's a sentiment you heard often from him. He may have a point, but surely one more intervention couldn't hurt.

That's what you told yourself, anyway. When you manage to catch up to the stumbling wizard, you expect it to be an easy interaction. Stop him, talk him out of being stupid, send him back to the inn. Your silver tongue has saved countless others, how hard could he be to crack?

Incredibly, is the answer. Before you could even get a second word out he had spun around, seething as he presses a finger to your chest. He almost loses his balance a couple times while insulting you. You let him go off, waiting for him to catch his breath before trying to talk him down one last time.

You expect to win him over. You'd expect him calling you more names and storming off. Hells, at this point you wouldn't be surprised if he hit you.

You don't expect him shoving you back against the stone wall, sharp teeth digging into your lip from the force of the sudden kiss. His hands are everywhere, but he finds enough focus to grab your thigh and pull it around his waist. Heat blooms in your stomach as his tail snakes around your calf, holding you in place so he can sloppily grind against you. His mouth drifts down to your throat, biting down cruelly to try and elicit any noise from you he can. Some curious part of your mind wonders how long he's wanted this. You'd always assumed he'd hated you.

There could still be hate here, but whatever's left in him is being quickly replaced by need. Just from grinding between your legs you swear he's holding back noises of his own, pawing at your armor to try and find some weak point to touch you through. You help him, of course, guiding his hand under your clothes. He almost whimpers when his fingers find skin.

You almost feel bad. Almost. It's hard to focus with him looking up at you so prettily.

#.rolan #.bg3 #notsfw

[cringecannon]

I am back requesting more durge content.. how they might reward and punish you as they mold you into their plaything. Durge giving you a treat for performing that sacrifice so perfectly

I am SO obsessed with the way you write durge that it isn’t even funny. Hope you’re doing well 🫶

They’re incredibly dedicated to your training despite their involvement being wholly unnecessary. Honestly, they should just pawn you off onto the nearest unholy assassin, but where’s the fun in that? Getting to play with you is the highlight of their week.

There’s no shortage of rewards for good behavior or progress. While they hope you’ll learn to see viscera and blood-soaked hands as a reward in of itself, they understand it’s not to everyone’s taste. If they have to ply you with gold or pretty clothes or their head between your legs, so be it. They enjoy seeing you happy.

Unfortunately, most the ‘rewards’ are punishments to the average person. Sacrificing someone more brutally than you thought yourself capable of in the hopes that it would earn a break backfires. Now they think you’ve finally gotten a taste for violence and are all smiles as they gift you an extra victim to play with. They’d sit behind you and help of course, you did so well with the first that now you get to take it slow. They want to make an entire date out of it, candles and dinner and all.

Not even mentioning when they force you and their banite together. The only solace you can ever take when that happens is he seems to be just as displeased as you are.

Punishments are much rarer. They recognize the lifestyle they’ve forced you into is a torture all of it’s own. Never mind the fact that they believe they have as much time as they want to mold you into a perfect little weapon. There’s no urgency to this whole affair, so you have to really fuck up for them to earn any significant disappointment.

Even with good behavior, random torments are a given. They are a cruel creature- it’s in their nature to destroy. They may wake up in the middle of the night and decide that it’s the perfect time for them to carve their name into your leg again. Bloodletting is a favorite pastime, second only to seeing how long you can hold your breath for. They love to see you choke and gasp for air when they finally let you back up, laughing as you throw up water. Suffering is good for the soul, they assure you. You’ll get used to it someday, little blade. Everyone does.

A real punishment (by their definition), is reserved for only the worst actions. Attempting to kill them is expected, but if you get too close to actually doing it? It’s nothing a mock hanging couldn’t fix. Well, mock hanging for now. If you slip off the teetering bucket beneath your feet, it’ll become a true hanging in seconds.

Refusing to kill is the easiest way to earn suffering. They don’t want to force you, but they don’t have much choice when you’re being such a brat. Threatening to take a finger tends to guarantee cooperation. If you keep refusing, they’re more than willing to show you they never make empty threats.

#durge is such a babygirl i love writing for them sm #i need to write about default durge eventually for the monsterfuckers. also because i’d love to describe an appearance for once. #i never describe their appearance bc in my head its a custom char but i’m pretty sure most people visualize the default anyway #.durge #.bg3 #notsfw

[cringecannon]

Something about Raphael breaking in a virgin Tav? Sacrificing virgins to the devil is a timeless classic after all

I’ve touched on it before (a long ass time ago, but still) and I think he’s a Total freak about virgins. You honestly don’t even have to be a virgin in the traditional societal sense, he’ll take any and all of firsts that he can get his claws on.

Never been with a devil before? Let him show you what you’ve been missing. His wings are unfurled and massive, posed in a way that prevents you from seeing almost anything in the room but him. Sharp teeth skim your neck as he pounds away, his skin uncomfortably hot against your body. His eyes glow brightly, watching hungrily as you twist and writhe beneath him.

If you’ve never been with multiple partners, it’ll be one of the first experiences he takes from you. You’ll be pressed and twisted in almost every position possible between him and Haarlep, both delighting in how flustered they can get you. It’s almost a game, seeing how embarrassed they can get you before you give in and enjoy it.

If you’re a virgin in the traditional sense, he’d play it slow. He wants to charm you, pulling you in step by step until it’s too late to back out. A smirk pressed against the back of your neck as his hands spread your thighs, he’d laugh at the situation. Such a whore, letting him ruin you. He expected more of a fight. You’re lucky he’s taken it upon himself to do this for you. Most wouldn’t be so kind.

#.raphael #.bg3 #notsfw

[cringecannon]

Whos the most into cockwarming and why is it Gortash?

I’m still a firm believer that Gortash is one of the laziest lovers I write for. Not that he can’t flip you around and bend you over and twist you all sorts of ways, just that he’d much rather make you do all the heavy lifting if he thinks he can get away with it.

He’s a big fan of anything where he can lounge back, especially if he can multitask. After sex, why bother pulling out? Much more time efficient to just stay inside you. Paperwork? He can just let you sit on his lap and entertain yourself while he signs off on whatever doctrine is in front of him. If you’re really unlucky, he may not even let you slide off when someone comes in to speak with him.

#not saying gortash doesnt love a fight (i mean come on he’s durge’s number one simp) #i just think he’s a whore who loves laying back and watching you ride him knowing you hate every second of it #.enver gortash #.bg3 #notsfw

[cringecannon]

I wish more people did this idea but astarion or gortash or even raphael grabbing a tiefling tav or durges tail in order to pull them back so they can fuck them

Astarion isn’t nearly cruel as the other two. One hand holds your hip and the other wraps around the base of your tail gently before pulling you back onto his cock. He chides you teasingly for running away, slims fingers rubbing the textured skin of your tail soothingly. Ascended or not, he’d always prefer to give you pleasure over pain. His hand drifts down your spine, praising you as he keeps up a slow, smooth pace. He would like nothing more than to have you like this forever.

With a Durge, Gortash has no choice. Sex is a game- a violent one- and he has to take every opportunity he can to come out on top. You kick his knee out from under him and bolt, getting out from under his weight as fast as you can. You don’t anticipate him recovering as quickly as he does, fingers wrapping around your tail and yanking you back. His arms encircle your waist, holding you in place as he struggles to press himself back inside you. You kick and snarl and snap your teeth, but it’s replaced by an arched back and a gasping laugh when he slips back in. He’s distracted you… for now. He may have won the battle, but you’ll win the war. You’ll remind him as much when he lets his guard down.

Raphael is just mean. He’s much more knowledgeable of your anatomy which makes him much more willing to play rough. His grip on your tail is bruising, yanking you back over and over to meet the snap of his hips. The pace is brutal, suffocating, and you have to fight to not lose focus. Every pull of your tail drags out a pained moan, but it’s countered by the pleasurable repetitive motion of him bottoming out inside you. You feel like you’re walking a thin line, but he won’t let you tip over to any specific side yet. He revels in keeping you stuck on that precipice, curious how long it will take you to beg him for any scrap of mercy.

#my fav pc is a tief durge and shes my baby so i’m always down to write tiefs #i need to grab a new pfp since i’m redoing her run on ps5 and her appearance got an update #.enver gortash #.astarion #.raphael #.bg3 #notsfw

[cringecannon]

screaming and crying and punching the wall before sliding down it tumblr drafts my beloathed

#have to rewrite an entire request because i clicked post before saving and tumblr was like fuck you actually. die #im gonna work on a smaller request for tonight because Fuck That #.off topic

[cringecannon]

You know, Gale does all of the camps cooking…. It’s be a shame if he put a little extra something special into your portion

You never used to sleep this deeply, you think. Birds chirp in the distance as the morning chill soaks up the unnatural heat of your body. You’re only conscious for a few moments before a feverish chill runs up your spine and your teeth start to chatter uncontrollably.

Astarion is already awake and notices your state immediately, watching curiously as you curl in on yourself. Oh, how rude, he pouts. You drank without me?

You don’t have the energy to respond, wrapping your arms around yourself. The conversation drew in someone with a better bedside manner, a hand pressing against your forehead and soothing the heated skin. You sigh softly at the contact, eyes fluttering open to see who it is.

Gale is looking down at you, worry written all over his face. His eyebrows are drawn together, his hand flinching away when he sees you watching him. He stammers over his words, wringing his hands as he apologizes. He swears his intention wasn’t just to invade your personal space, but you are burning up. Hold on just a moment, while he looks for something to help.

You want to make a quip about how you won’t go far, but both men have disappeared and you’re far too miserable to bother saying anything out loud. You had assumed he had run off to collect Shadowheart, so you’re a little surprised when he comes back alone. He kneels beside you, helping you up until you’re sitting. Well, sitting as well as you can manage, anyway. Your shoulder leans against his for support, watching him uncork the potion bottle carefully. Here, he mumbles, carefully holding the bottle to your lips and urging you to drink.

Your eyes drift closed as you drink, your body heat lowering dramatically. Thank the gods. Much longer, and he worries it might have fried your mind. Gale pulls the bottle away, using his thumb to wipe away a dribble of the liquid from the corner of your mouth. He seems to regret what he’s done immediately, pulling his hand back like he’d been burned. It’s his turn to heat up, the tips of his ears reddening in embarrassment as he apologizes.

He moves to stand, but you touch his arm gently with a small smile. You thank him earnestly, and his blush deepens. He stammers, struggling to look at your face as he tells you it was no problem at all, he’s always on call to help a friend. He winces a bit at the admission but you just pat his arm, laying back down to recuperate. You feel him next to you a bit longer before he departs to make breakfast, but he says nothing else. You don’t mind. It gives you time to think.

With your fever broken, you can think a little clearer. Your dreams come back to you in bits and pieces, swirling colors and strange imagery coming back to you in a confusing blur. The dream was fuzzy, your body was not your own as you were stuck in midair. You couldn’t be sure whether you were right-side up or not, shimmering water mirroring the glittery sky in a such a way that you couldn’t tell which is which. Ribbons of blue and purple and green cut through the infinite universe around you. You were weightless but sluggish, immobile and free-falling all at once. It was dizzying. It was beautiful. Awe and terror filled you in equal measures, and all you could manage was staring into the glittery abyss with wide eyes.

You didn’t flinch when a hand touched your hip. You thought it might have been accidental at first, the barest skim of fingers. The second touch is more purposeful, a prod. Then a whole palm lays flat against the skin, sliding up to feel your waist. Another hand joins, groping your chest clumsily. It confused you. You couldn’t understand the hurry… wherever you were, time didn’t seem to move.

Whoever this was didn’t share your calm. A hand dips between your thighs and you gasp, throwing your head back. Sensations are amplified by hundreds, each caress feeling like it goes on for hours. When you finish against the hand, arching your back with a whine, the heat never leaves. The burning ache inside you only gets worse when the hands retreat, leaving you alone in the shiny abyss once more. That too eventually leaves you to your misery, nothing but inky black nothing holding you suspended in that boiling stasis.

The fever may be gone, but you can’t fight the general unease that’s settled in your stomach. You glance over to Gale, his hands busy with cooking. He catches your eye, giving you a small smile and a wave before turning back to his work. The gesture is sweet, but does little to ease your growing tension. You choose to ignore it, sitting up carefully and stretching. Maybe you’ll feel better once you help Gale cook. You’d never talked to him much before this, but… it’s odd. After how sweet he was earlier, you find yourself wanting to spend more time with him. Hopefully he doesn’t mind the company.

#.gale #.bg3 #notsfw

[cringecannon]

thought about forced thigh grinding and all the blood in my body went south so fast it made me lightheaded

#that + forced exhibitionism is bark bark bark #.off topic #notsfw

[cringecannon]

I’m obsessed with the idea of there being some Normal Person ™️ who was kind to Astarion when he was a vampire spawn that maybe he’s a little unhealthily obsessed with. Maybe they’re a bartender at one of the establishments where he picked up victims for Cazador, maybe a seamstress who gave him thread for his embroidery or to patch up his clothing, maybe just someone who had kind words for him and didn’t try to hit on him, who knows? But it would be verrrrrry interesting to see an Ascendant Astarion encountering that Normal Person again, maybe deciding to “reward” them for being kind to him when he was nothing. Though I’m not sure if his idea of a reward would be what they would consider a reward….

(Also as an aside, I love your writing! I check your blog daily and my friends and I are constantly sending each other your Gortash and Astarion posts like “wake up, babe, new cringecannon dropped”)

He wasn't entirely sure why he was so enamored with you. To put it bluntly, you were just so... plain. Unassuming. Normal. Sure, you were nice. Plenty of people were nice to him though, and he didn't spare them a second thought. He watches you over the chalice of wine in his hand, seated in a dark corner of the bar.

Dark eyes follow the movement of your fingers as you carefully flip the page of whatever book you're reading. He glances up to your mouth, memorizing the twitch of your lip as you half-smile at some thought. Vanity rears it's head. You must be thinking of him. You had spoken to him for maybe a minute, one transaction out of hundreds, but how often did you get to see a face as pretty as his?

Not often, he hopes. A bolt of insecurity cuts through him. He feels pathetic, desperate. It sickens him. He could take anyone in this tavern home with him, and he's not going to sit around and let you make him feel inferior. His eyes settle on some pretty thing sitting alone at the bar and takes his wine with him, swaying over to his mark. Out of the corner of his eye, he tries to see if you're watching. You're not, staring down at your book like it's the most important thing in the room. He refuses to let you deflate his ego. His master wouldn't want you anyway. He'll waste no more time obsessing over some boring nobody.

He does, though. Watching you becomes a treat for him. Speaking with you when he he shops becomes a whole event. The last time he saw you, you'd finally started to recognize him. A warm smile lit up your face as you reached for the exact kind of thread he always comes in for. It was fate, of course, that he'd be abducted the next day.

That first night in camp he wonders if you'll miss him. If you'd think about him as fondly as he thinks of you. Reality crashes in, and the fact that you probably won't is bittersweet. He had been playing a dangerous game with you. Any closer, and Cazador probably would have found out. You'd have been just another thing to take away from him. It was safer this way.

He doesn't think about you much after that. Facing death everyday tends to do that.

It's not until Cazador's blood has long since dried on his hands that he thinks of you. He washes his skin absentmindedly, trying to remember all that he could about you. It wasn't much, honestly. He didn't know your name, but he knew the kind of books you liked to read and the way your eyes shined when your hand touched his when he paid for his thread. It was a start. No one else in camp had kept his attention long. He needs someone to sit by his side and look good for all eternity, and you'd do just fine.

That settles it, in his mind. When the elder brain business is over, he'll start courting you. He thinks he should start by buying the shop you work in. Get rid of the owner somehow, and then he'll give it to you. Once you fall for him (and you will, because you're just too perfect to be so ungrateful after receiving such a thoughtful gift), he'll invite you to live in his new manor. If you're a bit more stubborn, it won't matter. He's not yet sure what hovel you live in, but he's sure you'll appreciate the upgrade.

He sits up a little taller, a small smile on his face as he dries his hands. Should he make you his spawn before he marries you, or after? On one hand, it'd be the perfect way to start the honeymoon. On the other, if he turns you early your cooperation would be guaranteed. He hums to himself. Decisions, decisions. Honestly, it's too soon to worry about it. He has the rest of his everlasting life to woo you. No point stressing over it now.

#this ask is old but it's crazy how many friend groups used to share my content with each other #.astarion #.bg3

[cringecannon]

someone floated the idea of sursur bark collars several months back and it's been chewing on my hindbrain ever since especially fun to think about with primary caster classes like sorcerers & wizards - the contrast between being an unholy terror on the battlefield when they have spells vs. helplessly trying to smack someone with the quarterstaff they technically have weapon proficiency in... good shit, especially if the person who collared them is mocking them about it :3c -☄️

Gortash knew you'd turn on him. It was a matter of when, not if. So he made some... preparations. As you entered his quarters, something felt off. The closer you get to him, the weaker you feel. When he makes a motion with his hand and the watcher lunges, you barely have time to react. Throwing yourself to the ground and aiming your staff, you cast a spell as quickly as you can manage. To your horror, nothing happens. The watcher grabs your legs, dragging you kicking and snarling to Gortash's feet. He sneers down at you, engraved collar in hand.

You aim your staff for his knees, but your swing is intercepted by the watcher. It's metal hand wraps around it and pulls, ripping it out of your grip. You watch as it snaps the staff in half, throwing it to the side. You redirect your glare to the Arch Duke, holding his smug gaze even as the watcher grabs your face. It pulls you up until you're standing, then tilts your face even further forcefully, exposing your neck to him. He hums appreciatively as he slips the collar around your throat, tightening it more than necessary. Aren't you just a good looking pet? Let me see you properly, dear.

The watcher lets go of your face, holding your arms instead. His eyes are half-lidded as he reaches for your face. He barely manages to pull back in time to avoid your teeth snapping together where his fingers just were. He laughs at the scowl marring your face. Oh, he's going to enjoy breaking you.

#.enver gortash #.bg3 #☄️ anon

[cringecannon]

RAPHAEL KNOT RAPHAEL KNOT RAPHAEL KNOT RAPHAEL KNOT RAPHAEL KNOT RAPHAEL KNOT RAPHAEL KNOT RAPHAEL KNOT RAPHAEL KNOT RAPHAEL KNOT RAPHAEL KNOT RAPHAEL KNOT -

Also barbs... Many many barbs... Devilish anatomy to make sure their mates can't escape,,,, especially their mortal and unwilling mates <3

I’m just sayin’, realistically there should be a few more downsides to bedding devils.

Knowing he’d set his sights on you was bad enough. You’d heard of cocks described as ‘angry’, but you’re convinced those people had never seen something like this. His cock was cruel looking, dark red and sharp. You punch at his shoulders and cry and beg, but the only mercy you get is the fact that it’s flared. Despite your struggles, the head slips inside you easily. He pushes in further and you swear it’s ribbed, ridges dragging against some sweet spot over and over. You grit your teeth and arch your back and whimper, but nothing you do can stop him.

Regardless of your thoughts on his sexual prowess, it honestly doesn’t matter how fast he comes. He finishes as far inside you as he can manage, and it’s hot. Uncomfortably hot, warming you from the inside out. Pair that with the feeling of being stretched out even further, and you feel even worse. Something has grown inside you, and no matter how hard you try to slip away there’s no give. He nuzzles against your jaw, content in the afterglow as disgust settles in your stomach.

When you finally feel the knot shrinking, your fight begins anew. The grin in his voice is audible. I wouldn’t do that if I were you, love. You ignore him, of course. You pull, and struggle, and right as you start to make some progress, you feel it. A terrible dragging pain whenever you get some of him out. The devil laughs, stroking a soothing hand down your side. Poor dear. He forgot to warn you. He pulls this time and you moan in pain, eyes squeezed shut as you grip the blanket in both hands as hard as you can. It’s torturous. He’ll pull out a bit, then thrust back in shallowly just to make you more miserable. Hot hands squeeze your hips, his smooth voice ringing out in your ears. You should never have come here.

#barking growling rolling around i love fictional anatomy #.raphael #.bg3 #notsfw

[cringecannon]

besides kar'niss, which chars would enjoy just completely tying you up? (i'm just imagining kar'niss using his web on you 👀)

Kar’niss is 100% into it not even a question. Webbing holds your wrists together above your head, hanging you precariously from the ceiling. Your shoulders should ache, but he’d never let that happen. He hold you up dutifully, mouth drifting over your chest, sharp teeth skimming sensitive skin. One-sided worship feels more holy to him. You’ll have to keep your hands to yourself this time.

I’ve talked about Astarion and this before, and it’s also a no-brainer. While he’s not against more extreme kinds of bondage, he’s always been partial to ribbons and silk holding you spread out and pretty for him. He gets to be as slow as he wants with you, trailing fingertips up the inside of your thighs teasingly. You are just a treat wrapped up for him like this… He’ll enjoy taking his time with you.

Shadowheart likes it a bit harder. Shocking, I know. She wants pure submission, tight knots and black rope keeping you in a strict position for her. Stalking around you, she’s unable to keep a straight face for long. She pulls your head between thighs, looking down at you with a smug smile. Bedding her is a privilege. You’ll have to earn it.

#.kar’niss #.astarion #.shadowheart #notsfw

[cringecannon]

ohoohho you're back!!! been backreading everything <3

anyway pls give more dominant gortash. brat-tamer (more like breaker) gortash my beloved

As an advisor for the Grand Duke, you had a front row seat to the weasel's whole shitty charade. You never made a true stand against him because you didn't have a death wish, but you were as verbally repulsed as you could get away with. Honestly, you weren't entirely sure why he hadn't forced a tadpole into you yet. The few advisory meetings he did hold were all just for show, and as the only person not under his control (literally or willingly), you took it upon yourself to be a minor nuisance.

You lounged lazy in your seat, swirling a chalice of wine as he discusses his brilliant new crime prevention plan. You skim the propaganda poster he's handed out, making a game out of how loosely you can hold it before it slips from your hands.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see everyone else around the table has focused on you. You hadn’t noticed the sudden hush that fell over the room until now. Adjusting your chalice slightly (you had been using it to block the sight of him), you find the Arch Duke watching you expectantly. Ah. You've been formally asked a question. How cute. You ask what you've missed, and his smile doesn't falter as he repeats himself. You've been abnormally quiet. He's just curious what your thoughts are on his proposals.

Looking back to the poster in your hand, you read more intentionally. Frankly, it's a joke. You’re honestly a little offended he even put this in front of you. Outwardly you shrug, unimpressed, and crumple the paper up a bit before dropping it onto the table. It's ambitious.

Is that all? Usually you have so much more to add.

He’s watching you carefully, and you give him nothing to work with but a shrug. You ask if he’d like you to warn the morgues in advance that half the city will be under their care in the next six months, or if it should be left as a fun surprise.

You swear you see his gauntlet twitch, fingers tightening around his quill. Satisfaction blooms in your chest. You love getting under his skin. He stares at you, face unreadable. It pains him that you think so little of him. He stepped up to save the city, and his criminal policies will ensure the city stays saved.

You laugh quietly, rolling your eyes. They’re criminal policies, that’s for certain. Murmurs break out among the advisors, and Gortash’s eyes narrow.

If you have something to say counselor, speak plainly.

You glance over, searching his face to see how much further over the line you should go. It was a clear warning, but you’ve never taken kindly to being threatened. You sit up in your seat, clasping your hands together and smiling politely back to him. I have no other comments, m’lord. Just a quick question; how much longer will this meeting take? I need to order a few thousand more axes. I’m not sure our current executioner’s supply will be adequate for your plans.

Gortash seethes and you lay your chin on your clasped hands, smiling as serenely as you can manage. You’re the only one in the room who doesn’t jump when he barks for everyone to get out, immediately. You don’t bother getting up, not at all surprised when he specifies that you are staying here.

The door slams shut on the last advisor, and you find yourself alone with the Arch Duke. You weigh your options in your head as he walks around the table. As much credit as you try to give yourself, you can’t take him in a fight. You might get a few bites in, maybe even take out an eye, but his watchers would turn you into a red smear on the wall before you could do anything lethal. You just have to play nice, get back on his good side. Should be easy enough.

He sets his hands on the back of your chair, pushing it in until you’re forced to sit up straight. Why do you think he keeps you around? An interesting question. You hazard a guess that it’s because of your stunning good looks. A small, polite chuckle from behind you. Close. You entertain him, he tells you. His hands slip to your shoulders.

It entertains him that despite how little power you have, you think you can talk to him like you’re better than he is. His fingers dig into your skin and a small feeling of unease settles into you. It entertains him that you dance around and laugh like this is all some big comedy you’re in. One hand moves to the back of your head and you only have a second to prepare before your face makes contact with the wood table, your vision flashing bright white and then black. You can’t open your eyes, and you’re not entirely sure what exactly hurts. The chair is yanked from under you and you struggle to stand, your legs uncooperative. His hand holds your head down, forcing you to stay bent over. You’re vaguely aware of him pressing himself against your ass, but you can’t bring yourself to care all that much.

Listen, and listen good. His gauntlet slips under your clothes, scratching at the skin of your hip painfully. He’s had enough of your games. He let you run off leash for far too long, and it’s time for him to rectify that mistake. He grinds against you, using one foot to kick your legs apart. You stay as still as possible, eyebrows drawing together when his hand slips between your legs. The gold claws painfully drag against the inside of your thigh, and he leans over your back to murmur into your ear. He will bring you to heel. No matter how long it may take. It’s his solemn vow to you. Bend… or break. He’ll be satisfied either way.

#always a pleasure to write a snarky reader #.enver gortash #.bg3 #notsfw