Hi, I’m Meesh (she/her). I have been writing fiction for over a year, although my writing career began in academia more than two decades ago (yes, I'm old, like 40+ old). The majority of what I post and reblog is BG3 but I occasionally share socialist, anti fascist, and lgbtqia+ information.
If you’re here, that probably means you found me through BG3-adjacent content. I know we all have our own headcanons. Please be respectful of others’ opinions.
This is a safe space for everyone no matter your gender, who you love, what you do for a living, or how you choose to live. Just make sure you’re not hurting anyone and we’re square.
18+ only please, minors DNI. I write explicit and mature themes and they are intended for an adult audience.
I do my best to tag my work with the most appropriate warnings. Please heed them and let me know if you feel I missed one. I’ll do my best to correct my mistake if I feel that it fits the situation.
Comments and reblogs are welcome. Thank you so much for reading and interacting. I cherish every one of you!
Two traumatized nubbins heal from their pasts. Lots of sex and violence ensues.
All It Cost Me is a post-game longfic with lore-accurate details weaved throughout. I spend a lot of energy researching the world of Faerun to make sure I get the details right. That being said, some of what I create to fill the gaps is homebrew. But I only do this when there isn’t defined lore in its place.
Hydie is a redeemed durge who managed to save herself, her love, and the world within a few days’ time. Despite all the heroics, she had never felt less sure of her abilities than the days after the fall of the Netherbrain. All It Cost Me picks up a couple months after that time. As the world around her was beginning to finally reestablish itself, hers suddenly became unsettled again.
Her last promise to Astarion, made only one day after they ended the Grand Design, was to give him the sun again. She knew it wouldn’t be easy. What she didn’t realize was that other enemies were lying in wait for their revenge.
All It Cost Me is fully outlined. I release a chapter every two weeks. I have at least four drafted in my backlog in case life takes over for a while. At the current pace, I estimate it will take another year to post.
“We’ve come this far. It would hardly do to fail now.” - Astarion Ancunin
To Find Your Heart
I was given a writing prompt in the form of a sexy gif. What I wrote was an AU one-shot about Astarion, who lost his unnamed Tav/Durge after the Netherbrain. He was doomed to roam the Realms alone, resolved to never fall in love again. To Find Your Heart is set in modern times, the 90’s punk scene in Paris, to be exact. Please read the tags before proceeding. The pairing is a bit different but still totally canon-compliant!
How to Be Trained by Your Dragon (Love and Deepspace)
What if you–and Sylus–were bold enough to explore the what-ifs after your naughty dream? This takes place during the No Defense Zone memory, which I think is early on in the relationship. MC trusts him enough to fall asleep on his couch but probably isn’t ready for the full ride, so to speak. Anyway, the brainworms conspired with the horny ghost and this one-shot was born.
Welcome Inside
I’m still drafting this one-shot for one of my dearest friends. She requested a specific character to pair with one of All It Cost Me’s antagonists. The timing of this story will take place after Chapter 4 of All It Cost Me. I’m sure I’ll post it eventually; I keep chipping away at it every few weeks.
Missing Pieces
This one-shot will likely be a two- or three-shot by the feel of it. I wanted to dig deeper into Hydie’s characterization so I began writing about one of her first nights post-nautiloid. The timing is that incredibly chaotic few days when she began hearing the durge voices.
Mind Over Antimatter (Love and Deepspace)
Sylus is injured by weapons you’ve encountered before. EVER seems to have improved their antimatter weapons since you first saw them during the Zoion Hunt. The bleeding seems to have stopped and this last bandage isn’t soaked through with crimson yet. As you tend to his wounds, you try to think of a way to ease his pain.
I post WIP snips, tag game responses, and other fun stuff here on Tumblr and my standalone works on Ao3.
When I decide to share links to my other social profiles, I'll add them here.
re my "read books that make you feel stupid" post: reading books you don't fully understand is probably the safest way to push yourself outside your comfort zone. you don't have to embarrass yourself in front of anyone. you can do it from your cozy bed. you can easily get help from book clubs or literary analysis online. you can go as slowly as you want. there's literally no risk.
I have said it before on many occasions but it's worth reminding people that Sylus is a WHORE. And I love it.
He gives major fuck you in the bathroom on the first date before dessert arrives energy.
Think about it.
In his vampire myth, this man was ten seconds in from meeting MC and had every single intention to kill her and he STILL made out with her. Zero memory who she is, ready to impale her to death after bleeding her dry and has the audacity to be like “hold on, give me a kiss real quick,” LMAO!
In his dragon myth when MC was sneaking him, and she started acting like she was trying to fuck cause she feels bored did you see the look on his face? He was down!
I'm convinced if it wasn't for her hating his guts on sight in main story, because despite that she does admit he is hot as fuck so I KNOW he would have taken her amnesia having ass to base and slutted her out regardless. All she had to do was say when.
Nobody can tell me otherwise.
Sylus is easy. And I love that about him.
Fake sleeping so he can get handcuffed to his bed wearing nothing but a silk robe.
Just stamp the words “Fuck me whenever” on your forehead Onychinus leader cause we all see you're about that life.
I genuinely keep thinking of how sylus has these giant boba eyes he looks at mc from that are so obviously full of love and yearning and how if he was even a little more aware of them he could use them to his advantage the way xavier does but like he doesn't bc sylus doesn't think he's cute in the first place and he's also not the type to"manipulate" in a sense-
Y’ever read something and have understanding that has eluded you interminably suddenly stop, curl up, and snuggle neatly into a fold in your brain because a new way way opened to it?
more thoughts with dragon!sylus and merman!rafayel...
♱⋅── nearly 2k of absolute monsterfucking filth
♱⋅── MDNI WARNINGS: pwp, cw monsterfucking, overstimulation, oral, uhh eggs mentioned, sylus (double d, marking, fighting as foreplay, freakishly long tongue,) rafayel (double d, thalassophobia, dubious consent, cw breeding). inspiration from this post by @mintmatcha, photo credit to @xxsyluslittlecrowxx
dragon!sylus
what is a dragon if not power incarnated? as such their mate needs to hold that same fire within them.
as it gets closer to the rare season when dragons can actually mate, you find that your little arguments and snappy comebacks make sylus pause, wings twitching as he simply watches you with a crooked, fanged smile. a worthy mate snarls, pushes back, bares their teeth despite knowing they are smaller. a good sign indeed.
sylus brings back larger and larger kills, watching you roast them over the fire as he looms behind you, purring in contentment when you lean back against him, nestled perfectly underneath his bulky, scaled form.
you have been saying yes for months. your raised chin. your easy sleep against his warmth. Your exposed throat, your racing pulse, the way you reach for him without thinking, the way your heart rate climbs in his presence and you do not run from it. he knows your body is not deceiving him, he knows that you are ready.
sylus doesn’t want to scare his poor human mate, but if you’re to take his clutch and raise his brood, then you’ll need to be prepped. no worries, he’s more than happy to make sure your body is able to withstand the mating ritual, even if you haven’t realized what you’ve agreed to. but surely you want this right? all of your preening, your increased heart rate around him, you willingness to show him your neck and exposed belly. you want this.
during the late hours of the night when you’re already half asleep you’ll sometimes feel his fangs bite—ever so gently, just enough to leave an indent for now—into the crook of your shoulder or plush of your hips or thighs, something deep and ancient rumbling in sylus’ chest as he pulls away, letting his rough, forked tongue lave over the raw marks.
not even a week after it turns possessive, sylus pinning your sleeping body to the floor of your shared nest as his massive wings surround the two of you, rutting the swollen heads of both his cocks between your ass as you whine in your sleep, unaware of the way sylus begins to lick and nip at the back of your neck, practically drooling at the thought of finally sinking his teeth there. soon.
he’s not as careful as he could have been, sloppy in his desperation, and one night you wake to him above you, his clawed hand pinning down the small of your back as the other is four knuckles deep in your soaked pussy.
“sy-” a moan, and you thrash despite yourself, completely immobile under his weight. “sylus, what the fuck are y-oooh- you doing?”
you’re gasping, keening as you’re feeling yourself regain consciousness and rise towards another orgasm.
sylus doesn’t even act like he’s noticed you’ve awoken, narrow-slitted gaze completely focused on the stretch of your cunt as he forces his clawed thumb in as well, spreading you wide despite your protests.
god, you have no idea how long he’s been at this, but you’re soaked enough to have already cum twice, pussy throbbing and sore from his relentless ministrations.
in a flash of anger and embarrassment, you blindly kick out behind you. your heel strikes sylus’ shoulder, and he freezes with a low, thunderous growl, glowing red eyes locking with yours. he doesnt budge.
his tongue briefly flashes across the wide expanse of his fangs.
“again.”
his nose drags along the back of your neck, inhaling deeply, the pinpricks of his teeth gliding against the delicate skin making your skin crawl. “my feisty little human, always fighting back, always demanding.”
a pleased growl vibrates through him.
“good mate.”
before you can even question what he means, his fingers pry you apart with more force than before, allowing your juices to trickle down his scaled arm as they stretch you out just enough so he can lean down, licking a long, wet strip up your pussy. Circling your clit once, twice, before dragging all the way up until his draconic tongue curls inside your cunt.
You buck against sylus’ face despite yourself, sleep drained from you as your back arches violently at the intrusion, screaming at the delicious press of the long, long muscle writhing against your gummy, sensitive walls. too much, too much!
too bad the sight of you fighting him only makes it worse.
the dragon’s instincts completely take over, and your refusal to take sylus’ eggs unless he proves himself worthy isn't the resistance you think it is. it speaks to the fire raging in every dragon’s heart, a wordless acceptance of his ritual as you challenge him, and you force him to show you he deserves it.
and he will show you.
sylus’ wings spread. his fanged smile does too.
the clawed apex of his wings comes to your shoulder blades, pushing your upper body against the floor as he drags your ass further up, giving him even easier access as he rips the rest of your nightgown, burying his face into your open, sloppy pussy. your struggle is futile against your dragon, and as soon as your whines turn into moans sylus knows you are ready.
his fingers thrust back in, careful so his claws don't scratch you even as all five spread you out, knuckle deep, tongue now flicking against the entrance of your cervix, leaving his saliva's natural relaxant until he feels your cunt loosen around him. your poor pussy is drooling around his tongue, sylus greedily swallowing everything he can as his claws force you into a deeper arch, tongue somehow getting longer as you babble incoherently into the floor.
"good girl," sylus purrs, the low sound humming from his lips and into you, deep and loud enough to echo up your spine as you sob from the vibrations. "good mate, accepting me. accepting my brood, my eggs."
you panic despite yourself, shaking your head and bucking your hips even though you could barely feel anything between your thighs except for overwhelming, numbing pleasure. "e-eggs? no, no..."
"shhh, fight and i'll make it hurt more than you want it to."
sylus' tongue finally curls out of you and you moan, the rough length tracing the sweat-slicked arch of your spine as he mounts you, wings cocooning the two of you in as you feel the unmistakable pressure of both his cock heads press against your numb entrance.
his fangs bite into the back of your neck, claiming you as he breaks skin, feeling the sweet scent of your blood coat his fangs as he purrs.
"you've fought well, now take everything I give you."
merman!rafayel
rafayel is the storm, all tempest and raging waters, ancient as the ocean itself, so his choice in bride is not one he’s taken lightly. after all, that would make you a goddess, and your heirs next to rule the sea.
he’s already brought you to lemuria in preparation for your betrothal ceremony, merfolk blessing this brave human vessel who will bear their future, all while you laughed and swam among them with a smile rafayel will paint again and again in reverence. the merfolk never ask if you’re staying. they ask what you need, what you’d like, as if the staying is already settled and only the comfort remains to be arranged.
there’s no need to worry you with the specifics of the ceremony. after all, he is now your god, your mate, it is his duty to worry about the specifics of consummation while you simply enjoy connecting with his world, his people. your people now.
it complicates things when you begin asking to go back to the surface, but rafayel is always gentle with you, taking you back to your old world when you ask, never quite letting you out of his sight before coaxing you back into the ocean.
and when you hesitate? he sings. a siren song, his webbed hand outstretched as he draws you to the beach again, cold water splashing at your ankles but your body unaffected as the lullaby weaves into your brain, soothing, loving, drawing you closer and closer still. you walk into the water smiling and he is already there, waiting, like he knew the exact moment your feet would find the shore.
after all, rafayel can’t have you running away again. you are lemuria’s queen now. you were their goddess the moment he decided you were, which was long before this ceremony, which was perhaps before you were born, which is the sort of thing he will tell you gently, later, when the permanence of it has had time to feel like home.
you don’t remember swimming out to the middle of the ocean. the waves are calm, a deep endless blue all around you as your kicking limbs all disappear into their depths. something brushes up against you. first, a scrape on your calf, circling you, but there is nowhere to hide. scales, rough and cold, wind against your legs, an even colder pair of arms wrapping around your waist as your body is completely ensnared in his tail. “shhh, I won’t hurt you cutie.” and then the song starts, and you forget once again.
you awake with sand under your skin and the soft lapping of waves, but there is no beach in sight.
no, it is just you and jagged rocks surrounding you. the waves are only the calm lapping of the pool in the center of the gilded cave, the one and only exit leading deep into the water, and lemurian territory.
your mating cove has been in preparation for months. the merfolk decorate it as they would a temple, soft things dragged in from shipwrecks, sea glass worn smooth, bioluminescent moss cultivated specifically for warmth and light. every piece chosen with the future queen in mind, and their future heirs. for your stay here is mandatory until the sea god’s brood takes. but surely you already knew this when you agreed to be his mate?
“what do you think, cutie?” a splash, and rafayel surfaces into your cove, razor-thin fangs gleaming up at you as he takes in the sight of you kneeling before the altar of his people. “not bad for a species of artists.”
“rafayel,” your voice is trembling, and he immediately coos at you. “please, take me back to shore. to land.”
you keep pleading, but the sea god ignores your cries. that isn’t what you want anymore silly, can’t you see? you’re the bride of the sea god, the next mother of tides, what your body and mind crave now is him. fully, completely. your poor human biology wants to stop you from fulfilling your role, but it’s okay. rafayel is more than happy to mate you as many times as you need for it to take.
he sings, hauling himself up to the sandy bank of the cave as his voice coaxes you into the water, bare legs splashing into the pool beside him as the first few feet of his enormous tail drag up onto the sand. soft, pillowy, a good bed to take you without risk of injury.
rafayel has done all your human rites of marriage, now it is time for you to do his.
once again you find yourself restrained underneath his powerful tail, your upper body still thankfully resting on the solid ground, but hips and under dragged into the pool as rafayel looms above you, squeezing and coiling his tail around your legs.
“t-tight, you’re squeezing me raf–” your legs thrash, however in doing so you only end up straddling the thick expanse of his tail, a low chirping sound echoing from deep within rafayel’s throat as he feels your wet, soft heat grind against him.
as soon as he feels you rub against the slit of his tail he keens, thrusting forward as the weight of all ten feet of him pins you down onto the sand.
“impatient,” rafayel laughs, and you tremble despite yourself at the sudden sharpness of his teeth. “don’t worry cutie, i’m impatient too.”
you feel it then, something protruding out from the slit as he continues to grind against you, the rhythm of the waves helping him forward and back, reaching a webbed hand down as you feel something curve and grow against the entire length of your stomach.
panic, red-hot and violent, seizes you as you look down to see his cock-no, two of them-lying side by side against your sternum, one already leaking copious amounts of slime-like substance on your skin while the other appears almost barbed, swollen and impossibly heavy at the shaft.
“shh, it’s okay.” rafayel is already soothing you, voice a melodic lullaby as he gently guides your chin up to look at him, just focus on him, don’t worry your pretty little head about making them fit. that’s his job. “that’s it baby, relax. sweet thing, beautiful mate, you’ll be the perfect host for my clutch, won’t you?”
you can only nod.
rafayel preps you for one at a time, his bigger cock already drooling relaxant all over your thighs and cunt as he grinds it over your little clit, allowing the head to hit it several times, your body becoming more and more pliant as he spreads the gentle venom. as soon as your soft breaths turn to moans he knows you’re ready, and drags you just a bit further into the water, enough so one powerful thrust is enough to have his first cock rammed right into your sweet spot.
it’s white-hot pleasure, your cries broken by a sob as rafayel speeds up, restless as he feels you tighten around him, cunt sucking him in further, accepting his first knot, driving him fucking insane with the way your moans sing to him like a mating song.
you’re perfect, already cumming around him as he feels his second knot swell, the pressure of his eggs rising as his instincts beg him to finish claiming you as his own. soon. soon, he can’t rush your poor, delicate human body, he can't risk breaking you.
the slight prick of fangs against your nipple makes you arch off the sand. it’s all too much, the feeling of being so impossibly full, rafayel’s tongue laving and squeezing your chest, his fingers thumbing at your clit and prodding at your already-full entrance, it all has you dizzy with need.
“more,” you’re begging in spite of yourself and your fear. “please, more.”
of course your god will provide.
the muscle relaxant his first cock has been pumping out has swelled within you, and with his spare hand he can begin to finger you open alongside his knot, curling against all the spots he knows make you sing. he then lines his second cock up with your entrance, and begins to push.
you whine, fighting it, hips bucking wildly, but the sheer weight of his tail keeps you pinned. the second cock is thicker than the first, rigid as it catches onto your fluttering entrance and squeezes past the first knot, copious amounts of his relaxant and your juices squirting onto your thighs and into the ocean. rafayel hums sweet nothings, petting you to soothe you, lips going back to swirl and bite at your nipples as you cum for him once more. he squeezes your breasts and wonders if you’ll still produce milk if you don’t have human babies. he hopes you do.
“pretty mate,” a low clicking sound, almost like whalesong fills the cave. he’s close. “wife, all mine. mine, all mine again.” rafayel gasps as his cock bullies yet another inch in, his egg sack bloated and heavy, waiting to be given to a worthy mate, and yet stuck until he can force the last few inches of his knot inside you.
desperate, a powerful slap of his tail drives him forward, slamming his hips into yours as both knots force their way into your cunt. the waves roar, spraying against the cave's walls as your vision whites out.
the pressure and stretch are overwhelming as you sob into the sand, cries turning into moans as rafayel’s fingers never ease up on your clit, numbness seizing your lower half as rafayel’s entire body begins to convulse with the press of the first egg into your womb.
Thank you for the tag @chaushaus, this one was fun and the perfect way to remind everyone of our dearest blorbos! Have your girls call mine, they'd be besties in no time!
I only have two ladies at the moment, one for BG3 and one in LaDS.
This pretty gal is Hydie, the OC from my longfic All It Cost Me. About half of her traits are self-insert. Good luck figuring out which ones are me! Being a reformed durge, she and Astarion struggle with the blowback of her murderous past. (artwork by the incredible emy-san)
This stunning lady is my MC from Love and Deepspace. I've only written a one-shot for her and Sylus so far, titled How to Be Trained by Your Dragon, but I have plenty more in the backlog! Her name is Meesh because she is basically 100% self-insert.
Show off your ladies if you want to, @bloodjune, @anacdoce, @olivedrop, @xxnashiraxx, and anyone else who would like to share.
To split or not to split (chapter 39). It's been ages since I posted and this chapter has been slowly coming together. I'll be at 9k before I finish my draft so then should I split it and post earlier? I dunno yet.
What I do know is I'm grateful to the lovely @unovafarm for the tag! Here is a random paragraph from the neverending chapter.
He knelt and pulled Hydie into his arms. "After what happened last night, I found myself feeling possessive." His words were a reverent whisper into the flesh above her panty hem. "The entire situation was unsettling at first and I had an overwhelming need to claim you for myself. But, once I thought about it, I realized what I want instead is for you to claim me."
All my love to everyone still following and reading. Thank you from the bottom of my stale and shriveled heart.
