/y/ Fantasy Switcheroo

Yander the Bastard, Yander the half-blood – they had called him that and more in the early years. The young paladin had worked hard to earn his place in glorious service to the Red Knight, Goddess of Military Strategy and Tactical Warefare. It bred a certain kind of paladin when they served in the Red Fellowship – perhaps the most dangerous kind of paladin, intelligent ones. Yander waged war against darkness the way a general did – careful planning, tactics – and most importantly, what the paladin called 'recruitment'.

“We have to make people believe in the cause of Good. What is a paladin without the wholehearted support of the peoples of the world behind them? Just maniacs with swords, punishing people for seemingly no reason!” This is what he said, a mission statement. It really was mostly true – the young paladin had an energizing presence, and when he spoke of what Good was, people listened...

Yander wasn't the greatest paladin ever, however. He most certainly wasn't the most sterling. Ultimately, even righteous champions are still people. They have damage, they have secrets, they have good reason to pursue the darkness – and most often, as it was particularly in Yander's case,  it was to hide from the darkness that festered within... A young half-elven boy's body, curling against the form of an older human man, full of his cock, confused – afraid... The young paladin's rape and suffering played through his head whenever he brought his sword to bear against the darkness...

Yander's eyes shot open.

The half-elf's head lulled a bit, and he slowly looked up, eyes the shade of aquamarines adjusting to the darkness. It was so dark, not even his eyes could full pierce the shroud. What he saw was... Plants, vines, covering the walls – dark and black like veins of ink up stone walls, covered in thorns like some great rose bush. Petals bloomed from the vines, and as Yander stared at the vivid red roses, he couldn't help but feel familiar with them, as if...

“Mmh... As if they were you, yourself?” A thick, husky voice worked its way from the darkness. The sound of nails clicking on stone greeted the half-elf's ears. “Fascinating, no? This particular plant is from the Abyss – the blossoms contain little pieces of your own soul, eventually – sucked from the essence of your blood?”

“Who... Are you?” Yander's typically clear, bright tenor was gruff and harried – and the very act of speaking shook him from some sort of ennui that had settled over him. The paladin groaned in pain as he felt slick, cold vines around his wrists, arms and legs. Thorns dug into his flesh.

“Names have power, little falcon. Name... Name... Dominus will do, for now.” A figure came into view on the edge of the darkness beyond Yander's vision. A being of the male ideal strode toward him; tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. A large organ hung freely between his legs, slapping back and forth against his thighs, and two egg-sized balls. His skin was the color of an old bruise, his eyes the shade of rotten eggs – horns curved from his head,  and small, nub-like horns curled out from the skin down both sides of his chest and hips. “Yes. Dominus will do nicely.”

“Demon. How dare you restrain me!” Yander spat out the words with a sudden fury, perhaps trying to hide the arousal the creature instinctively inspired in the pits of his Id. The paladin pulled at the vines, but his muscles were so weak from the loss of blood – they were just weak tugs. This was beginning to look bad...


“I had always been under the assumption that paladins were boring, little falcon. Sterling silver without tarnish.” The incubus casually ignored him, walking closer and closer, running clawed fingers along the  half-elf's exposed thigh. “But you... Are fascinating. Watching the darkness within you play out in your gentle rest was most amusing.” The incubus' hand slid up Yander's thigh slowly, causing gooseflesh to raise across the paladin's entire body. “Perhaps we of the Abyss are wrong to slay your kind outright.”

“Don't... Don't touch me!” Yander continued trying to tug free of the vampiric vines that bound him. Deft, demonic fingers began to easily undo the belting that kept the paladin's codpiece on.

“Your mouth says no...” The incubus tugged the codpiece off, crushing the enchanted red steel in his palm. Yander's own cock fell free, half-hard and quickly growing under the minstrations of the incubus. Dominus' hand slid up and grasped the erection firmly in one hand, slowly peeling back the foreskin. Yander's skin was pale and fair, a call to his elven heritage, but the head of his head cock had a dark, ruddy color. “Ah, but this says yes... How gorgeous.”

At the touch to his organ, the paladin jerked up and let out a low groan, turning his head away. He began to pray softly to the Red Knight – calling to his stern, domineering goddess to give him the rational state of mind he so desperately needed. The incubus let out an amused noise, looking up at the praying paladin.

“Surely you have realized at this point that you are expendable, little falcon...? You could be with me. You could be my pet. I could give you mind-blowing pleasure for the rest of time. You would never be expendable, to me...” The incubus laughed, leaning forward to draw his tongue up the paladin's hard organ. Yander couldn't resist moaning loudly, his cock immediately beginning to leak out clear pre.

“I... I've always known. I will never be your sex toy, demon.” The paladin growled the words away, not losing his focus – bringing all of his self control to bare. The incubus opened his mouth, letting out a serpentine tongue that flicked in the air. The demon it belonged to curled up against his bound prey, mouth inching around the paladin's twitching, engorged organ...

Until a loud explosion rocked the ground – sending some of the vines falling down onto the ground, causing them to coil around themselves wildly, trying to find some sort of vertical surface to climb. The  demon lurched away from his prey, and let out a low growl. “And what is this...? Perhaps you are not as expendable as I thought, my tarnished little falcon. Make sure you, uh... Don't go anywhere.” Dominus laughed quietly as he lowered himself, and then jumped with preternatural quickness into the heights of the crumbling temple.

Yander crumbled, sagging loosely. His breath came in sharp, rabbit-like inhales. The paladin's head rolled back, inspecting the vines that drank his blood, that held him in place. “... Some way out of this... Think, Yander...”

“Ya was never real good at thinkin', Yandy.” A familiar voice spoke from above.

Yander's head jerked up, and his eyes widened, his face brightening. “... Florian! Thank the Gods.”

Florian waved – dressed in his typical all-covering red and white clothes. The assassin was always at the height of fashion, simply because he wore whatever he pleased and thought looked good. An assassin and a paladin weren't likely to be friends, but something about Florian had always drawn Yander – and likewise of the young half-drow assassin, who was never far from Yander's side unless he was off commiting the gravest sin of murder, but Yander did never hear about those stories...
The half-drow dropped down from his perch into a skillful roll. He stood up, dusting himself off. “The whole feckin' church of Tempus is attackin', tryin' ta spring ya.”

“Really? I... How did they even know I was...” Yander's mouth opened to say more words, but the paladin's conciousness wavered for a moment. He was running purely on zeal and survival instinct, at this point. It helped that Florian was perhaps the only person alive that the paladin wouldn't mind seeing him half-nude and at full mass...

“Whoa, Yandy. Less talk, more daggers...” The assassin produced throwing knives from his sleeves, and let them loose, slicing the demonic vines. The large, vile plant let out a loud hiss as the paladin it held slowly fell free and flopped onto his knees. Florian walked over, and kneeled down next to the paladin, settling a holy symbol in his lap. “Ya aren't expendable, ya idiot. Don't ever say that again.” His tone was firm.

Yander picked up the holy symbol – a piece of pure ruby, cut into the shape of a knight chess piece. “... I'm... Sorry, Florian. You... You're right.” He clutched the symbol close.

“Well. I stole that back fer ya. Let's get outta here.” The assassin drew one of his daggers.

“Wait. Just a moment.” Yander turned around slowly, to face the enormous, demonic plant that grew up the wall behind them. Yander raised his holy symbol, chanting softly in Celestial to his goddess. He leaned forward, pressing his holy symbol into the mass of thorny vines. A loud screech filled the room as pure crimson flames raced up the plant's form – the symbol of the Red Goddess' rage made form.

Florian didn't wait. He grabbed the paladin (who the half-drow reasoned was acting so stupidly due to bloodloss) by the shoulders, and began to drag him quickly from the room as fire engulfed the demonic  vines. “Ya feckin' idjit...”

Yander drifted in and out of conciousness as the much smaller half-drow chugged a few potions and slung the heavy paladin into a piggy-back position, quietly complaining about how stupid the paladin made him the entire way. For the first time in years, the paladin felt safe. Florian always smelled like warm, freshly baked cookies or cakes, or chocolates... The assassin had a bakery as a cover business for his contracting (though, those whom suggested he use poisoned confections to do his work often ended up dead themselves). Yander couldn't resist tightening his grip around Florian into a tight hug.
“... T... Thank you so much...”

“... Yeah, yeah...”

The rest of their escape was a blur of darkness and occasional flashes of color and light. When the paladin finally awake again, he was resting atop the bed in what he recognized as an Inn room. He blinked a little bit, still half-awake as he looked around for Florian. He found the half-drow standing in front of the fire place, dressed only in a loose wrap around his middle.

To the uneducated, Florian would likely look like a full-blooded drow. His skin was darker, ashen-colored, but with flesh-colored patches at the tip of his ears and his nose and chin. He had long, soft blonde-white hair, and eyes like rubies. The assassin was shorter, probably more average for the normal human than Yander, who was quite tall. When in private like this, Florian always wore little – a way to recoup for how much clothing he was forced to wear in public.

So much forced the two apart – good and evil, mercy and vengence, even elf and drow. As Yander thought, he realized just how much drew them together. Both of them were outsiders, both feared and respected by the average folk... Both abandoned by their fathers. He and Florian had forged, through all these difficulties and differences, a working friendship. In many ways, the paladin and the assassin were the only true friends both had ever had.

“F... Florian?” His voice was still weak. The half-drow paused, and turned around.

“Awake, eh?” Florian walked over, picking up a small box from one of the side tables near the bed. He opened it up, and put took out a small chocolate bonbon – one of the ones the assassin himself handmade for sale – and rested it against Yander's lips. “Hazelnut praline, ya favorite.”

Yander smiled, biting down on half of it. Florian plucked the rest away and ate the rest. It was something the two of them did – share food. Both had elven appetites in a human world where large portion sizes dominated. They had overcome this little problem by simply sharing whatever food they had together.

“So, uh. Incubus, eh?” Florian, notably, looked like he was trying to keep his gaze strictly to Yander's face.

“Yes, foul demons of lu...” Yander paused, glancing down his form. The paladin was still rock-hard, his  cock standing full-mast in the air. The paladin scrambled to cover himself up, with a large flush. “I, uh.. Sorry...”

“Too late ta apologize now. Thing was grindin' inta me tailbone the whole way out.” Florian rubbed the back of his head, flushing a bit himself – though, a flush on his dark skin looked more purple than red.

“Oh, Gods... That's... Really embarrasing.” Yander covered his face in apparent shame. “Just thankful you're the only one seeing me like this.”

“Yeah, well. I figured ya wouldn't want all the pretty little priestesses fightin' over who gets ta heal ya. Is this sorta thing common with incubi?” Florian sat on the edge of the bed next to Yander.

“I think so...? The creature played with my mind, made me imagine...” Yander paused, coughing a bit. He kept his crotch covered as best he could. “... All the darkest thoughts in my mind.”

“And those thoughts just happened ta get ya hard? A likely story. Ya just can't resist me.” Florian began to pose comically. Yander laughed quite hard, it was a nice feeling after what he had gone through. Florian smiled just a little, but he looked away – the half-drow rarely allowed Yander to see his true smiles. “... Mmh. Ya lost a lot of blood. I'd say cause it all went south – but, ya were even paler than usual. I wrapped up the places were ya were all cut up by that weird plant thing. Should be okay in a day or two, Yandy.”

“... Thank you, Florian. I don't know what I'd do without you.” Yander relaxed, laying back against the headboard. “I intend to pay you back. I know you like to hear secrets... So, between you and me...”
Florian lofted an eyebrow, turning to face Yander. “Yeah? Spit it out.”

“... The demon did make me think of you once or twice.” Yander rubbed the back of his head.

“Really. And what, exactly, was I doin'?” Florian was focusing intently on Yander now, eyebrows furrowed.

“Come on, I don't want to... A demon was playing tricks with my mind!” Yander pouted his lips a bit – but Florian remained unmoved, his gaze insistent. Yander sighed. “... Alright. You were... Tied down to a bed, on your belly. A broom stick was pressed up under your pelvis to keep your hips hitched up. I was... Ontop of you. Inside. We were... Mmh... Doing it really hard.” The paladin squirmed, looking away as he spoke.

“Tch. This proves it. All paladins are kink-fiends.” Florian snorted, worrying his lower lip with one of his canines. “... You ain't gonna tie me up, but I may or may not have been hard the whole way out when ya was grindin' inta me arse...” He fiddled with the cloth on the wrap around himself for a moment, and then he started to slowly pull it off. “So, we're even.”

Yander watched the cloth fall off of Florian's form onto the floor, eyes wide. “... What are you doing...?”

“Ya can't just stay hard... Figure I might as well help with the, uh... Healin' process, fer once. It's good ta change things up every now and then, right?” Florian stood up, Yander's eyes getting a good view of the tight, flexible muscles in Florian's back, and the bubbly curve of his ass.

Florian didn't give the paladin much time to complain as he crawled up Yander's prone form. Yander's eyes went down the assassin's slim hips, and the little white patch of hair above his own organ. Florian was flushed dark. “No one's ever looked at me like this, so... Ya know...”

“You put the Incubus to shame, Florian.” The words fell out of Yander's mouth without his permission – and he immediately sputtered, and looked away. “... You look incredible.”

“R... Really?” Florian looked down over himself – every inch of the half-drow was flushed, and his trademark confidence was notably absent. He sat on Yander's lap, and let both their stiff cocks slap against one another – dark on light, but both heads flushed ruddy and dark and throbbing.

“You know I'm forbidden from lying...” Yander just leaned back. Something in him wanted the assassin to be in control.

“Tch. Hide behind your vows as usual, shitehead.” Florian snorted, and started to roll his hips – their sensitive cocks grinding against each other. Florian let out a low groan, a dark, calloused hand grasping both their cocks as he started to roll his hips. Yander kept noises down in his throat, sapphire eyes absorbing the pleasured look on Florian's face as he started to grind their organs together. Yander spread his legs wider apart.

Florian didn't need much encouragement – he started to eagerly rutt his hips, his other hand going down to roll both his and Yander's balls between his fingers. Florian wasn't quiet at all when his cock was involved – he let out a litany of deep, throaty moans. Yander soaked in the noises – he adored the half-drow's voice. Yander rolled his hips up against Florian, and was rewarded with even louder groans.
“... Your voice... More?” Yander asked quietly, his hands reaching out to travel up Florian's navel and flat, muscular belly.

“Uh... Uhuh...” Florian nodded, and then immediately groaned loudly when Yander's fingers started to twist and pull on his mauve-colored nipples. “F... Feck! Kink-fiend! You-are-a-kink-fiend!”

“I am your kinkfiend right now...” Yander's voice was low – the usual kindness in it had faded, replaced with desire. The assassin who had saved his life, kept him safe – Yander needed to see him in pleasure, needed to see the sadness the assassin hid inside abated, for just a moment.

“F... Feck you.” Florian threw his head back, hips rolling eagerly. His hair was spread around his shoulders, and his cock wept freely with precum. Florian bit his lip – and turned the tables when he lifted up his hips, pressing the head of Yander's cock right between the cheeks of his bubbly ass. Yander  let out a loud moan at the sensation – the threat – of sex.

“That... You are cheating!” Yander's voice was breathless, and he was totally still – as any movement would be a firm thrust upward.

“... Oh, sorry, when did I take a feckin' vow that said I couldn't cheat, ya stupid paladin?” Florian wore a large smirk, and started to slowly ease himself down. He half-shut one of his eyes as he felt Yander's slick cockhead press up against his entrance. Yander immediately started to moan and squirm – the paladin was under Florian's thumb, and he knew what Yander wanted. Florian really wanted it too...

And so, Florian started to slowly ease himself down, feeling Yander's cock slowly open and widen his hole. The invading feeling wasn't terribly pleasant, at first, but hearing Yander's desperate moans and seeing him thrash and pull at the covers was reward enough. Florian shuttered as he felt Yander's cock head suddenly pass by the tight ring of muscle in his entrance and plunge into his insides. /That/ felt incredible, and Florian let out a gutteral moan.

Yander's hands were immediately on Florian's chest, touching every inch of him. The banter was clearly over, as either man had lost the capacity for coherent speech. Florian mostly let gravity do the work for him as his body slowly slid down Yander's organ, and a pleasant sense of fullness spread into his insides. Florian really was in control – and it was surprising how safe he felt with a paladin this near...

Yander was likewise happy to let Florian have full control. Being inside of the half-drow was bliss – he wouldn't dare risk this type of intimate contact with anyone else. He wanted to be inside of Florian, he needed to be... Save for the occasional little roll of his hips, Yander didn't do anything besides worship Florian's slim, perfect body.

When Florian felt Yander's pubic hair against his taint, the half-drow finally looked down at Yander's face – and he found those intense blue eyes, full of softness and warmth. He wasn't expecting that – desire was there, but... It was safe. Florian leaned forward, his confidence fleeing him again. “... So, uh... W... What now?”

Yander leaned forward, and nuzzled Florian's cheek. “Hold me down... And move your hips.”

Florian nodded a bit, sucking in a breath. “Yeah, right. Makes sense.” He leaned forward pressing his hands into Yander's pecks, pressing him down onto the bed. The half-drow shifted a bit so he was kneeling on his knees, and began to slowly lift himself up. Two things happened – one thing, Florian expected, the other was so beyond his conception of control that he found himself detatchedly surprised. The first thing was the blossom of intense pleasure that raced up his spine, causing him to moan out animalistically. The second thing was how his own hips forced themselves back down, hilting Yander's cock deep inside of himself. Florian just started to move – he needed the cock in him, again and again. His own organ began to weep out bright white cum as Yander's shaft massaged the half-drow's prostate.

Yander's eyes remained on the half-drow's face, his hands moving to rest on Florian's hips. This is what Yander wanted – seeing the assassin feel safe enough to open himself up like this... Yander loved the weight on his pelvis, the warmth around his organ, the sounds assaulting his ears. He was going to be fucking Florian often, after this...

The two moved in unison, deeply held secrets, bitterness released in their joined, intimate contact. Time  really meant little, as both were interested only in being joined together for as long as possible. Florian eventually found himself drawing close, a heavy load building up right at the tip of his cock. He started to thrash and groan loudly as electricity exploded down his spine and at the tip of his organ. When the half-drow cracked open an eye, he saw Yander looking back at him, dumb-founded – cum covering his face and chest.

Florian couldn't help himself, the poor paladin's confused expression caused him to roar with laughter, leaning forward.

Yander pouted, and began to thrust up his hips rather violently in response. Florian's laughter became choked with moans as the paladin shut his eyes and focused on getting as much of Florian's soft, velvety insides as he could. It wasn't much longer until Yander groaned loudly, and Florian was treated to seeing the handsome paladin – face covered in his own seed – utterly lost in rapture and bliss as pumped cum deep inside of the half-drow's tired body. Florian lifted himself up straight and forced himself down hard, instinctively trying to get the cum as deeply as he could.

And then, the assassin flopped bonelessly atop the paladin, mumbling. “... Yeah... We're even. Should save ya more often, Yandy.”

Yander was breathing hard, and started to stroke Florian's hair. “... Don't know what I'd do without you, Florian...”