* closed starter | @solomage

the stench of alcohol and cigar smoke pollute the young succubus’ senses as a human man twice her age murmurs degradations against her ear, rough hands far too eager, far too familiar, as they grope and prod at a hellish physique. she appears uncomfortable, a faint look of apprehension upon an innocent expression, the text embedded into her cheek wrinkles as she winces, sheepishly removing the man’s hands from her body only for him to replace them, more aggressively. he’s either too drunk to understand that she is subtly rejecting him, or he simply doesn’t care— her bets are on the latter, people like him never seem to care.

yes, she appears uncomfortable, to anyone who might be watching, but the pub is crowded and dimly lit— smoke from cigars creates a dingy atmosphere. and even if anyone is watching, she doubts anyone will say anything. they never do. this man thinks she’s vulnerable, thinks she’s powerless. so she appears uncomfortable as to not reveal her winning hand. why do they always seem to like you more when you’re afraid?

` let’s go outback, huh? just you and me? you’d like that wouldn’t you? tieflings have always been my favorite. `

there’s a threat in his eyes, as his hand grips her arm and he presses himself against her. that’s when she feels it— the cold sensation of a blade pressed flatly against her abdomen. she can feel it through the mesh of the black gown she’s wearing, and gods, it’s so difficult not to smile at him knowingly. she must suppress her condescension, at least until she’s got him alone. she can play the role so well now, the man doesn’t suspect a thing as he drags her through the back door.

and of course, no one helps. maybe no one noticed? she doubts it, though. people can be so disappointing. still, she is relishing in the fact that she can and will take care of this herself, and she’s going to enjoy every barbaric moment of it. she starts crying as he leads her through the darkness, through the trees, putting a little bit of distance between them and the patrons of the pub they left behind. she even manages some real tears, laying it on a bit thick, just trying to really sell it, you know?

it’s not until he has her against a tree, a greedy hand slipping beneath the flimsy fabric of her gown and between her legs that she blinks, and her eyes glow a bright white in the darkness. her once distressed expression quickly transitions into a wicked smirk as her hand closes aggressively around his throat in one rapid motion. a dark red mist envelopes her entire form, and she emerges from the magical cloud, enormous bat-like wings flapping away the rest of the mist. she’s a bit taller, her teeth and claws sharper, like unbreakable razors. she’s strong enough now to lift the man off of the ground by his throat, and she emits a childlike giggle at the sound of his choking. he’s so stunned he actually drops his knife. there’s a sadistic glee shimmering in glowing eyes as she brings him closer to her face, he’s desperately clawing at her grasp around his throat to draw the sweet breath she’s keeping from him, ` awe, what’s wrong, baby? i thought we were having fun, ` she drags her tongue up the side of his face before tossing him hard onto the ground, where he struggles to catch his breath and scramble away at the same time.

` ah, ah, ah, we aren’t finished, ` she’s able to grab his foot and drag him back toward her, where he cowards on his back as she mounts him, strong hands pin his above his head into the dirt below. he thrashes beneath her, quite vigorously, but he’s no match for her like this, ` yeah, just like that, i like it when you struggle, ` she taunts him, hoping these are words he’s used before to women less powerful than her, women who couldn’t protect themselves.

` what are you? ` his voice is almost a whisper, his breath trembling, and he’s so, so scared. nepharia savors this, the fear in his eyes, he deserves this.

` justice, ` is all she says in response before razor-like teeth sink into his throat, the taste of metal rushing into her mouth. she snarls like a feral animal, losing herself entirely for a moment as she continues to rip into him with her claws. barely alive and bleeding out by his throat, he still tries to shield his face from her claws with his arms, loosing parts of them in the process. fingers, a hand, all being viciously torn away and thrown in random directions. she doesn’t stop until he’s been disemboweled and she’s surrounded by his gore, a wicked, bloodied smile on her face. she breathes heavily from the rush, the adrenaline— and then there’s a nearby crunch of leaves.

her head snaps in that direction, and she spots someone, bright eyes able to see pretty well in the dark of the night. another man. ` don’t be shy. have you come to join in on the festivities? ` she asks, her tone is a soothing lull as she stands from the dismembered, unrecognizable corpse, ` there’s so much of me to go around. ` she doesn’t lunge at him, she simply stands above her kill, claws still dripping with fresh blood. she can smell his fear, but also something familiar. she smelled him at the pub too. what is he doing all the way out here?

Chapter 1: Happy Slime Day

It was Tuesday evening in the spring time in early April, Cashus was turning 22 years old today and worked at a local barbershop in the neighborhood he grew up in, anticipating to get off to start his celebration instead he was doing some last cleaning up around the barber shop he worked at. He loved to cut hair since he was a young boy, watching his father really rubbed off on him, there was a lot of self-taught barbers in those Cuban slums.

“Ayo pa, I’ma go ahead and get out of here….I’ll see you Thursday morning”. Cashus yelled from the front of the shop to the back to the owner.

As Donny the owner walked to the front he said “Damn son, you must got a young thing waiting on you” he laughed.

“Nah man, I’m just tryna get home to change and go meet the bros to celebrate” said Cashus.

“Aight my man, take it easy and enjoy your night, I’ll see you next time you work. Happy Birthday again.” Said Donny.

Cashus walked a few blocks and was on his way home to his Aunt’s apartment that he lived with. Aunt Keys real name Keyshia, was the sister in law of Cashus’s Father , which is his brother Fernando’s wife, and is currently incarcerated due to a stabbing at a bar one night five years ago. We’ll get into that later on down the line.

Finally making it inside, Aunt Key greeted me as I walked into the living room. “Heyyyy Cash, come give ya Auntie a hug, I thought you would’ve been home a little early today since its ya born day neph!”

“I knew my plans wouldn’t be until later on in the day, so I stayed to make some extra bread”.

“I know baby, you’re one hustling mother F’er. You remind me so much of your dad and uncle”. She said with a smile and slight tear drop rolling down her right cheek. “I seen that in you ever since you was a little boy, now my boy all grown and shit” she added while walking away lighting up a cigarette.

“Yeah yeah, I thought you was quitting them shits” I said laughing side-eyeing her.

“I’m a little stressed Cash….. your uncle hasn’t called today and that’s unlike him” She said putting the Bic lighter to her cigarette.

“I really do miss him” She cried as she took a puff while her other hand rubbed her head in stress.

I can’t lie like I don’t feel her, its times where I be in deep thought about my parents, seeing their faces one day and next day gone just like that, so can’t nobody on this earth tell me I don’t feel them on that pain tip! I’m staying strong for people, my Auntie Keys know she has nothing to worry about as long as I’m her nephew. Family is all we got, a code I live by.

Later that night I linked up with the bros and had some drinks at this bar in the city, then afterwards we headed to go gambling out Atlantic City. I grew up with these niggas since migrated to the states. My life in Cuba as a boy slowly faded over the years and I started a new life and I honestly can’t see anything past my mom and pops. People in my neighborhood became my family, but shit still wasn’t sweet out here. I done been through fights all throughout my school life, especially as a lil nigga when I my English was bad. Thirteen years ago all I knew was Spanish now all I speak is ebonics, I made my name in my hood. The ladies love my crew and I, but I’ve yet to wife up any of these broads because there’s no money in that particular sport.

After making it to Atlantic City, we gambled our ass off and got bent off the liquor and even rolled us a few spliffs in the cut of the casino. Honey’s was on us, you know they come from all over on the East coast to come out here for a good time.

“Man ain’t y’all tired of this area now?” I said hitting the weed.

“Bro yes! We should go gambling in Vegas next time.” My bro Zack said.

“Fuck no, I’m talking about forget the gambling shit and do big shit”

“How are we gonna do big shit without this money we make from gambling though bro?” My other bro Bryan added in.

“Y’all niggas need to expand ya minds more, the fuck we gonna keep studying this light shit, while its niggas our age getting to it for real out here”. I said dumping ashes of the joint and passing it.

“What the fuck? How we supposed get it, because I agree but my job ain’t paying me enough” Said Zack laughing looking at Bryan.

“I say we start taking niggas shit, I mean they doing that to another nigga anyways, we just gotta make our operation way more smoother than theirs.” I said with this crazy smirk on my face.

Yeah I forgot to mention I came from a family with a long list of dealers, robbers, and murderers. It was in my blood, my uncle been taking the most popular crews in the whole NYC since before I was born, he had fled Cuba and made a life over here after he vacationed her and met my Aunt Keyshia, Uh huh she was a bad shorty that used to set niggas up, which is how she met my Tio when he had boat loads of cocaine coming into Miami all the way to New York that my pops had sent off. A known dealer was trying to get my tio knocked off so he sent his what you call a bottom bitch to get at my tio and it ended up back firing when my uncle bagged his lady and they’ve been inseparable since. I know y’all thinking how could my uncle trust her after she was sent to do dirty work for another man, but hey when you a smooth wise guy like my uncle anything is possible. I say that to say it runs in the blood and I got no problem handling big business. My uncle serving time for brutally stabbing an unwise guy who tried to run down on him at a bar enjoying his night out with the wife. I promised my Aunt that I wouldn’t follow in his footprints or steps, whatever they say out here, but living by the rules will have you finishing in last place every time.

Later as the night got old in age we went to our room we had booked near the casino with three rooms in it and three ladies we was kicking it with. I was faded and all I knew was I had this girl on her knees giving me good head, I wasn’t even tryna sleep with her afterward or lick nothing so I sent her on her way and knocked out in my hotel bed. All in all I’m happy to see another year but something had to give ASAP, I sat in my thoughts planning a master plan for me and my crew to come up on smoking another spliff before I called it a night.

i thought it might be fun to write out my headcanon dynamics for neph and the companions in her party ( this is solely based on my playthrough and doesn’t necessarily reflect how neph feels about any of these muses in threads i might have with anyone, and neph’s feelings about companions also don’t reflect MY personal feelings of said characters, i promise i actually really like gale. ).

astarion ; nepharia started manipulating him from the beginning, very quickly picking up on the fact that he was doing the exact same thing to her. after each of them realized that the other was being disingenuous, and only using the other, desperately seeking someone they could trust in these stressful and dire times— an actual bond began to form. a trauma bond, mostly, opening up about their time as slaves to people more powerful than them. nepharia encouraged his hunger for power, just as he did her — they were partners, but ultimately realized they needed a friend more than a lover in the other. eventually, she helps him ascend.

shadowheart ; the cleric’s secrecy and incredibly reserved demeanor bothered nepharia none, because she didn’t want to talk about herself either. she didn’t want to reveal to anyone the true nature of what she was, lest they not trust her, or worse, leave her alone to deal with everything by herself. she respected shadowheart’s privacy, and never pushed for information that wasn’t willingly given. now with shadowheart, though— nepharia convinces her not kill the nightsong, not because she didn’t want to see shadowheart get the things she wanted, but because she knew that their next battles would be far more difficult without a powerful demigod on their side. neph even helped save her parents. :’) i like to think these two are close.

lae’zel ; the way lae’zel would compliment neph’s brutality in battle is what made this demon really like lae’zel. having lae’zel in combat was always such great motivation. and scary devil though neph may be, she knew better than to get on lae’zel’s bad side. did she think she stood a chance in a fight against her? honestly, it’s a 50 / 50 in the succubus’ mind, but only if she was in her true form. out of it, she stood less of a chance.

minthara ; as much as nepharia loves dabbling in her fair share of vicious and brutal bloodshed, releasing those atrocities on innocent refugees certainly wasn’t the succubus’ idea of a fun time. but it was the safer choice, better than going up against the entire goblin camp and risk blowing her cover as an unsuspecting tiefling, or worse, dying. she doesn’t reciprocate minthara’s advances at camp that evening, and not because she didn’t find minthara— intriguing, something about her immediately made nepharia curious. what was a woman who wields so much power and authority in the sound of her voice alone doing with a charge of… goblins? and why attack meaningless, minuscule tieflings, when she seemed so very capable of so much more than that? nothing about it seemed right, but nevertheless, the image of dead tiefling children etched into her mind was enough to kill any sensual mood, even for a succubus. it’s not until they meet again at moonrise towers, when nepharia smells the sheer terror and helplessness coming from the drow, that the devil for the first time empathizes with minthara. she’s known that fear, that helplessness. minthara becomes neph’s biggest motivator in every sense of the word, and encourages her to take control of her life again— she gives neph that fire back, that absolutely unhinged, feral drive that she lost long ago.

gale ; neph honestly almost didn’t pull him out of that portal as soon as she heard his voice, and then when she did, and he didn’t. stop. talking. she wanted to shove him back in. she resisted the urge for a very long time in the beginning to seduce and kill this man, the only thing really stopping her was the orb in his chest, not knowing whether or not it would kill them all off if she did. she found him unbearably sad and pathetic, but eventually— he does grow on her, as much as she’s annoyed by it, and she might not ever admit it. but he hated her guts for a while as well, especially after the grove raid…

karlach & wyll left the party. :’)))))