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#there's an elf under there i promise
solarespeon · 1 month
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this is rook he likes ravens a normal amount
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deer-with-a-stick · 8 months
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The more time I spend explaining Tolkien lore to my brother the more I realize that Tolkien was just batshit insane
#yes the world is flat and a globe at the same time#and yes if you go off the edge you fall into the void with Satan 1.0 (assuming the Straight Road doesn't just railroad you)#he calls Valinor “The place under some trees where everyone smokes weed” and honestly I wish they would do that instead#bilbo and frodo bring weed to valinor quick#i tried to explain the miriel-finwe situation and he's so confused#“so they died and they were all sad even though they didn't have to stay dead?? but she couldn't come back because he remarried??”#“but then he dies and says 'yo ill stay dead instead' and she's find now??”#does the big God just keep making elf and human souls or do they just. appear#i told him about Gil-Galad Son of Plothole#he is quickly realizing that yes#the valar are a bit incompetent#its fine#elrond's dad is a star his mom is a bird and his great great grandma is an angel#my sister gave up two seconds in despite sparking this by asking me about elf lore#apparently she actually just wants to know about legolas but not legolas' father because of the hobbit movies#let me rant about feanorian politics it'll be interesting i promise#shut up about your elf backflips you wanna hear about nirnaeth arnoediad and the kinslayings#tolkien#lotr#lord of the rings#silmarillion#the silm#is this a shitpost? idk#he's batshit insane but the world is great i love it#we still don't know where hobbits come from#they appeared one day#like potatoes#i had one tidbit of legolas lore and that was#the guy showed up several years late in a homemade boat with a dwarf#incomprehensible screaming
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What is a common misconception about made Marion cast? What do people assume about them which is either incorrect or misconstrued?
Hmm, there aren't many misconceptions floating around out there that aren't purposeful on my part.
The one big one we've had, though I haven't seen it lately, is the theory that there are love interests who are secretly non-human. I may lie sometimes, but I'm not lying about this. All love interests are 100% human, both in the main game and the DLC. Please do not be disappointed when this turns out to be true!
Fortunately for fae-snugglers, one of my fine fellow devs is creating a 100% fae love interest game. Check out the Morai Myths Tumblr!
And sometimes there are assumptions about what our characters might do or be like based on the closest available trope from either old-school English language romance novels or Japanese visual novels. I hope they will surprise you when you read their routes. :D
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blurglesmurfklaine · 29 days
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Can’t stop thinking about dnd aus for multiple fandoms it’s actually a problem
#dnd#baldur's gate 3#okay so like for klaine I think Blaine would be a cleric and Kurt could be a Druid#and I have THOUGHTS about Kurt being a Druid#because like.#him being a half elf and his mom giving up every connection to his eleven heritage to be with Burt#but then she dies when he’s 8 anyway and not only has he lost his mother he’s severed any tie he has to his culture#but one day soon after she passes he’s sitting by her grave#thinking about how nice it would be if he could find some flowers to pick for her headstone#and instead… a circle of mushrooms blooms right before his eyes#because out of death there is life and something something the magic of nature#for Javey obviously David is a cleric and Jack is a rogue#I am legit so unwell about this#David and Sarah get a letter one day and travel to the elven city they were banished from#and it’s their mom (in this au she would be Not Great) and she’s like. I need you to take this young elf to moonrise towers (or smth idfk)#and long story short the young elf is Les!#David and Sarah are charged with safely getting him to where he needs to be#under the promise that upon his safe arrival they’ll be allowed to live in the forest again#(they were not allowed because they’re half human and racism is a thing in dnd)#anyway#out in the city they meet Jack (human rogue) - Race (drow fighter) and a few others along the way#and they get sidetracked and have adventures etc#a few key moments that stick out to me are: David being reluctant to use his magic but finally using it in a scuffle to save Les#Jack dying and Davey bringing him back#just a lot of really intense combat moments#oh and also them fleeing combat from the Fucking Frog#and sitting and pouting about it like ‘what the FUCK was that?’#and they never bring it up again bc they NEVER retreat
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helloporcelain · 8 months
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Doux
Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Astarion/fem!Tav Rating: explicit (18+)  Tags: oral sex (involving period blood), piv sex, blood drinking, mutual pining, slow burn, orgasm denial, mentions of Astarion's trauma (but not graphic), there's also like the TINIEST mention of rimming & breathplay but i promise it's so mild, oneshot Summary: Tav seemed perfectly normal in their day to day, but Astarion knew that she was avoiding him. It had been that way since the last time he had fed on her. Read on AO3 if you prefer
Tav couldn't help but celebrate. 
The last couple of days had been grueling. Gods, it had felt so good to finally get back to camp. A dip in the cool river, followed by a change into the lovely dress Alfira had gifted her, had Tav feeling like a brand new person for the night. She had stuffed herself so full on a feast of cheese pies and grilled pork belly that she nearly threw up, and then after, she dramatically retold the story of the goblin slaying to the group of wide-eyed children. It felt like a massive weight was lifted off her shoulders – she and her companions had been awarded a win, one they really needed.
Grateful tieflings swarmed Tav the entire night, showering her with wine-fueled hugs of gratitude. She waved off their praises, insisting that it had been a team effort and encouraged the others to accept their share of recognition as well, because there was no way she could’ve done it all by herself. Eventually, Tav found herself sandwiched between Shadowheart and Karlach on a log. The two women were drunk and engaged in unabashed flirtatious banter with each other. Tav, however, kept her wits about her. She took a swig from a tepid mug of ale, her eyes locked onto Astarion across the camp. He was visibly annoyed by the children surrounding him, all clamoring to catch a glimpse of the bow he used to slay goblins.
In the midst of all the chaos, he caught her staring at him through the dancing tieflings. Astarion tipped his head sideways, as if asking a question. Startled, she choked on her drink, inadvertently spilling some on Karlach. 
“Oops,” Tav said, as Shadowheart leaned over her lap to wipe off the ale from Karlach’s pants before the sizzle of the burning liquid caused her to yelp and quickly withdraw her hand.
“We really need to fix that, don’t we?” Shadowheart muttered sarcastically, fanning her injured hand, attempting to cool it down.
“Maybe lay off the wine,” Tav suggested sarcastically. “I’m going to go make my rounds. The people need their gracious host.”
She set off to mingle with the others, and felt the stare radiating through her as she joined the nearby chatter. Lia and Cal, to be exact, were begging for Rolan to present some fireworks. Rolan conjured a rather underwhelming prestidigitation spell, prompting Tav to tuck her mug under her armpit and offer a polite clap after an awkward pause. Round and round, Tav meandered through the camp as she talked to everyone, hells, even Withers, avoiding Astarion as if her life depended on it. With each new person, they topped her mug off with fresh ale. 
As the night wore on and the ale warmed her cheeks, Tav found herself growing increasingly uninhibited. By the time she reached Halsin, she couldn’t resist flirting with him. Who could blame her? Halsin’s gigantic muscles had called out to her, and he was nothing if not good natured. The mountain of an elf laughed off her inebriated advances gently – his head was elsewhere, not that she blamed him. 
“There are many grateful people here who would want to spend time with you,” Halsin said, a glint in his eye. Tav wanted to follow the look, but chose not to, knowing where it trailed behind her. “I must not keep you all to myself. As enjoyable as that may be.” 
She offered something of an agreement before she wandered off to the nearby river, seeking solace and a moment to contemplate on her thoughts, away from the songs and dancing. 
**
The first time Astarion fed on her, Tav had accidentally fallen into a trance one night outside her tent. She had insisted the rest of her companions get some sleep while she cleaned up from the mess they made at supper. After washing the cauldron out in the river, she lugged it back to the fire and had meant to sit down for just a second of rest. Before she knew it, she had drifted off, only to awaken with Astarion hovering over her, teeth bared, wearing an expression she had never seen before. With a dagger pressed to his chest, the look was gone, replaced by a frantic attempt to explain why he had loomed over her so ominously. She couldn't fathom why he was scared; he knew her knife skills were almost as poor as Gale's.
When he confessed the truth, Tav's heart grew heavy – heavy for the way he asked for her trust, no, insisted that she could trust him. Every instinct in her screamed she would be foolish to, but she did.
But she was firm; he could feed on her this one time. After that, it was enemies only, or else. Companions weren’t food, they needed their strength just as he did, and he would not become accustomed to using her – or any of them, for that matter – to satisfy his needs.
Not that any of the others lined up to be his bloodwell... though the group tolerated Astarion, there’d been a sense of uneasiness among the others about the truth. 
Tav braced herself for discomfort at best (and suffering, at worst), but she was completely thrown when all she felt was desire. The unexpected pleasure took her by surprise, though it made sense in hindsight. If it were nothing but pain, vampires wouldn't have gained their notorious reputation for seduction. It felt as though Astarion had plunged his fingers into the depths of her chest and held her heart in a vice-like grip. The more blood he drew from her, the more she wanted for Astarion to take everything he needed, even at the cost of her own life. In the briefest second, Tav felt herself fading away to the gentle chill of her lifesource dwindling, her neck so numb she couldn’t parse out where his fangs were.  In the end, she barely pushed him off her, doubting his self control. Tav noticed the change in Astarion immediately – his face looked brighter, his eyes less dull. Before he left, he promised he wouldn’t forget the gift that she had given him. 
Two weeks later, Tav surprised herself by offering her blood to him a second time.
The camp was quieter than usual. It had been a long day and it had taken its toll on them all. Auntie Ethel turned out to be much more than they had anticipated – offering no cure, only trouble. Shadowheart had gone to her tent for her evening prayers. Gale blew his candles out early, claiming eight hours of sleep was necessary for his mind, body, and complexion. The rest sat by the fire, settling for a bit of relaxation before they retired for the night. Lae’zel, Wyll and Karlach were engaged in a very competitive game of cards while Astarion lounged nearby, engrossed in a book he had stolen from the hag’s teahouse.
Tav had been writing furiously in her journal next to him, when she reached down to her satchel, rummaging through to find an apple for dessert. She couldn’t help but peek at him through the corner of her eye. Astarion had been unusually silent since their return to camp. She had a feeling he was tense from their run in with the monster hunter earlier that day. During the exchange, she noticed a second of panic run across his face as Gandrel revealed who he was searching to capture. The monster hunter never did end up accomplishing his job – courtesy of Astarion and his dagger. 
“If you have something to say, Tav, darling,” he said, his eyes fixed on his book. “You should just say it. It’s ill-mannered to stare.” 
Tav turned the apple over in her lap, contemplating if it was smart to broach the subject, then began nonchalantly, “I don’t suppose you want to address what happened earlier.”
“You want to hear about Cazador,” Astarion said with a tired disdain. “My old master. Before the mind flayers took me from him. Before this strange, twisted freedom.” He slammed the book shut with one hand, and Tav listened intently as he painted a picture of Cazador. A cruel, paranoid master who tortured Astarion for two centuries. A monster obsessed with power, a monster of which it was very clear that Astarion would go to great lengths to never return to.
It was so much worse than Astarion had let on. 
“Why do you think he wants you alive?” she asked.
Astarion pursed his lips. “Maybe he wants to make an example of me. To show what happens to runaways.” He cast his eyes aside before giving her a solemn look. “Or, maybe, he thinks death is too good for me.” 
Tav had always known that Astarion wore a mask, but she had never realized just how often it was in place. It was a remarkably well crafted one, but every mask was bound to slip off at some point. From the very first day they crossed paths, she had found something about him to be perplexing, though she couldn't put her finger on it.  She had thought of him as arrogant, a little malicious, and selfish. Yet, in that moment, as his gaze drifted far away into the embers of the fire, she saw something else—a hint of fear.
“I’m sorry, Astarion,” she said with sincerity. There wasn’t much else for her to say, and she doubted he wanted empty platitudes. 
Astarion nodded appreciatively. “Thank you, but – this isn’t about sympathy. It’s about knowing what we might be up against. The mind flayers aren’t the only monsters out there, hunting us. All I’m asking is that you keep your eyes open, and watch out for anything lurking in the shadows.” 
Her hand inched closer to his fingers, an inhumane chill radiating from them. Tav thought about putting her hand over his in comfort, but thought it too intimate of a gesture for them. “As long as I’m around, I’ll watch your back,” she promised. “You will never go back to him. I won’t let it happen.” 
Astarion’s posture relaxed as he pulled his hand away from the warmth of hers, and gave her a smile – the one that never reached his eyes.  “What more could I ask for? Now, is that all?” 
His fingers tapped a restless beat on his book, as though they might start flipping the pages on their own. Tav studied his face. He had deep mauve bags under his eyes, and his gaze had darkened to the color of oxblood. She wondered how many animals he must have voraciously consumed to still remain so far from the vibrant state he had been in after she had shared her blood with him. Tav weighed the decision to offer him her blood again. She pictured Astarion feeding on rats as if daintily sipping tea from a tiny cup and it was somewhat amusing, but mostly it just made her pity him.
“I was thinking…” she paused, looking down to the apple in her lap. She brought it up to her face and peered at it, checking it for worms. 
“Oh no. That’s never a good sign.” 
Rolling her eyes, she continued, "...that you looked more weary than usual. Perhaps you might fancy a bite?" His fingers slowed their tapping as his eyes fixated on her mouth. Tav crunched into the apple and cocked her head at him.
"Well," Astarion replied, a hint of pleasant surprise in his tone. "I suppose if you're offering a treat, then who am I to turn you down?"
“Don’t misunderstand me,” Tav said, expression stern as she emphasized her words. “We won’t make a habit of this. But… we do need you strong for when we reach the goblin camp.” 
Astarion’s smile changed into the nefarious smirk that she was familiar with. “If you say so,” he purred, leaning closer to whisper in her ear.  “Come to my tent after the others have fallen asleep.” 
Two hours later, she cursed herself for picking the furthest possible area from him to lay down her tent.  Tav quietly crept across the camp to Astarion, pausing every couple of steps just to listen for snores. She just didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea; as the unofficial leader of the group, feeding Astarion was a purely strategic move.
Sneaking past Karlach was nerve-wracking – she had an open tent, explaining that she ran too hot in an enclosed space. Luckily, the barbarian slept still like a boulder. It was Scratch, who dozed at her feet, that made Tav pause. She brought her finger to her lips and gestured for the dog to stay quiet, his sleepy eyes following her until she reached Astarion's tent. She crouched and leaned against the closed fabric. 
Not knowing what to say, Tav whispered, “Dinner’s here.”
“Cute. Come in, darling.” 
Tav poked into the tent and found him reclining on his bedroll, propped up by an excessive number of pillows, more than anyone else had. He had stolen them in Waukeen’s Rest, grumbling about missing the comfort of a proper bed like a civilized person. It was her first time seeing the inside of his tent, and she couldn't resist taking it all in. The inside was dimly lit by a single candle atop a stack of looted books, and next to him was a tray hosting an array of colorful rings and necklaces he collected from both unsuspecting innocents and dead bodies. Even out in the wilderness, Astarion was opulent. He had changed into his fine nightclothes and looked at her with a raised eyebrow – she was still wearing her muddy, fight-stained cloak.  
“Ah, right.” She looked down at herself. “I washed up, promise. Just didn’t want to traipse around at this hour in my nightshirt.” She shrugged the coat off onto the ground, revealing a plain night outfit. “I don’t plan on being in here long.” 
"Well, make yourself comfortable nonetheless," Astarion beckoned, sitting up and gesturing towards the snug space they now shared. “Just be very quiet and our little midnight rendezvous will stay a secret.” He shuffled on his pillows, inviting her closer.
“I should’ve hoarded some pillows like you,” Tav remarked. “You’re resting like a little princess.” 
Astarion chuckled. "Oh, my dear, you'll be sleeping quite soundly after I'm finished here. Come, sit on my lap." She hesitated, making a reluctant face. 
"Now, don't be difficult," he continued with a playful grin. "It'll be far more comfortable for you this way. I wouldn't want to accidentally suffocate you again, as I nearly did last time." Tav inched towards him, careful to not touch anywhere but the bedroll. She knelt down and followed his request, straddling him while placing a hand on his shoulder for support. A sudden shiver ran down her spine as she felt just how icy he was, catching her off guard.
"Sorry," Tav broke the silence, "You’re so cold. I grew up with the chill, but you’re different."
“I have bad circulation,” Astarion replied dryly.
Tav shifted her body on him, hoping he didn’t realize how mortified she was. "Are you comfortable?" 
He responded with an earnest chuckle and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. "You're rather adorable, aren't you?" He gently pushed her face to the side, positioning her neck at the perfect angle for him. "I knew you liked this more than you let on."
“Don’t speak nonsense,” she spluttered, her head snapping back to look at him. “I am doing you a favor.” 
Astarion adjusted her face to the side again, his hand now more firmly gripping her chin. “Don’t be coy,” he murmured, low and seductive. “Your body has already given you away.” 
He leaned into her neck, taking in her smell, lips hovering over her bare skin. “I could feel it, you know, as I was getting lost in your neck. Your little shakes of excitement.” Tav’s back stiffened and she felt the urge to leap and run out the tent, but his other arm tightened its grasp around her hip. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”
Her body betrayed her when she gasped as his mouth pressed against her skin, goosebumps prickling her arms and the back of her neck.
“You don’t have to say a thing. I already know how you feel. I feel it too.” 
And then he sunk his fangs into the pulse of Tav’s neck, her fingers digging into his arm. Her stinging skin parted under his sharp teeth with frightening ease. Tav never thought of herself as delicate, but she felt as vulnerable as a little rabbit torn apart by a hound.
She jerked suddenly when Astarion bit down harder, willing her frantically beating heart to pump more blood faster into his mouth. He made a small noise, something resembling relief, as each droplet surged past his lips. Sucking away and lapping at the wound at the base of her neck, as if he were merely cleaning up a small mess he made, caused an electric sensation to shoot through her spine and then down to her groin. His hands dug a tighter grip into the sides of her body as he sucked and sucked and sucked. Black dots slowly speckled her vision as if distant stars were blinking into existence. She let out a choked whimper, her body quivering beyond her control.  Blissed out crimson eyes met hers as he pulled away briefly, his lips glistening with her life's essence. His gaze burned into her, the hunger swirling in his eyes.
“That’s a strange definition of quiet.” 
Before she could reply, Astarion placed a firm palm over her mouth. With his lips away from her neck, she felt her blood flow down her collarbones, dripping into the hollow of her chest. He tongued at the trail at the top of her shoulders, lapping up the burgundy rivulets. She shuddered as he went lower to her ruffled nightshirt, and he gently pulled down at it just enough to lazily clean up the remaining droplets at the top of her breasts. 
Her chest rose and fell as she struggled to control her breathing, and that was when Tav noticed the hardness pressed underneath her. “Just a little more, darling,” Astarion panted.
His tongue scorched on her skin as he licked up the trail, fangs grazing her skin on his way back to the puncture marks. His hand fell from Tav’s mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head as another gush of warm blood hit his tongue, coating every crevice of his mouth.
“Astarion.”
His name tumbled out from her in a moan, as she was painfully aware in equal parts both of the erection against her and the wetness soaking through her undergarment. He didn’t respond, but he did stop suckling at her neck. “You can stop now.” 
Then with a degree of reluctance, he removed his lips from her, mouth and chin so completely covered in her blood that it looked morbidly lewd. Tav looked up at him with wide eyes, heart pounding. 
“We could get some privacy,” Astarion murmured after a few seconds passed. His fingers traced down her back, sending a tickle through her backbone. She stiffened, keeping her eyes fixed on his, a reply trapped in her throat.  “To enjoy ourselves more. I know somewhere quiet, not far from here.” He shifted his lap and pressed himself against her, to show her what he meant, if he wasn’t clear enough. 
Tav’s resolve wavered for a moment, but she quickly composed herself and moved to push herself off him, though his arms behind her back kept her in place. “That– that's enough, actually,” she responded, her ragged breath catching up to an even pace. She wasn’t going to respond to his suggestion. Tav knew he was toying with her, that he thought her naive.
“You’re looking better already, for a dead man,” Tav said coolly. He huffed in annoyance and leaned back, granting her space to stand up from his lap. “Your eyes,” she observed. “They glow when you feed on me. A person’s blood does wonders for you."
Astarion lifted his hand up to his mouth, swiping off the wet, shining blood. He coated his fingers with what remained and languidly sucked, keeping a fixed gaze on her that made her want to run for the hills. 
“That is the understatement of the century, my dear.” 
Tav tried to hide the way her fingers trembled as she attempted to button up her cloak, haphazardly connecting the wrong ones. He watched her intently as she covered up his bite with the garment.  She opened the flap halfway and, before she left, turned to face Astarion, her voice firm. “Don’t expect this again.”
Astarion offered a wry smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
**
Astarion didn't fancy himself a connoisseur of puzzles and riddles. He loathed prolonged attempts at figuring things out. Patience was a virtue he seldom possessed, especially if figuring out something – or someone – took too long. He supposed he'd grown accustomed to resolving things rather quickly, a skill honed during centuries of servitude to his demanding master, Cazador.
Well… former master. But Astarion didn't want to regard Cazador in past terms, not just yet. He didn’t feel he had the luxury. Not while the wicked vampire lord was actively searching for him. Astarion was skilled at deception, but he refused to lie to himself; fear gnawed at him relentlessly and he found himself barely able to meditate in peace most of the time. He was plagued by nightmares of Cazador finding him and dragging him back into his clutches. So, he conceived of backup plan upon backup plan. He didn’t entirely rule out Raphael – the devil potentially had the power to free him from Cazador, but it would undoubtedly come with strings attached. Would the worm wriggling behind his eye be key to his freedom? Perhaps, if he didn’t turn into a mindflayer first. 
Ironically, all of those possibilities just meant merely shifting him from one master’s control to another.
Astarion sighed, keeping a watchful eye on Mol. She thought she was being quite sneaky, attempting to pickpocket him. He flicked the child in the forehead as punishment, and sent her scampering away with a handful of rings he had deliberately allowed her to take.
Why had he been granted a second, well, technically third chance at life, only to be confronted with one grim option after another? What had he done in his previous life to deserve this? He had been so young when he turned, Astarion couldn't quite recall the details anymore. He remembered working for the government—and probably was not the most benevolent magistrate back then—but surely, he couldn't have been any worse than any other charlatan. It’s not like he kicked children or orchestrated an illicit gnome trafficking ring, right?
His chain of thoughts broke at the sight of Tav’s bright eyes locked on him from across the camp. She averted her gaze when he returned the look. After that, all he could see was the curtain of her hair veiling her face as she maneuvered around the camp, chatting with everybody else.
Tav seemed perfectly normal in their day to day, but Astarion knew that she was avoiding him. It had been that way since the last time he had fed on her. And she was right to avoid him; it was a foolish thing she had done, trusting Astarion like that. She just couldn’t help herself, could she? Anyone who batted an eyelash at her and cried a sob story got a helping hand from her, it didn’t matter who. She didn’t stop to think that it wasn’t how the world worked – some people weren’t destined to be helped, no matter how often they prayed to the gods.
Tav was good and it sickened him. 
Without her, Astarion thought, he would’ve been content to let the tieflings meet their fate, either slaughtered on the road or at the hands of the druids – it didn’t make a difference to him. In fact, he doubted the others really cared to resolve the whole Druids vs Tieflings dispute in the midst of their tadpole predicament. But Tav rallied them just the right amount that none of them could ever say no to her.
The others genuinely valued her opinion, and often looked to her for guidance, whether they realized it or not. Being on Tav’s good side was the intelligent thing to do, Astarion had quickly gathered. She had vouched for him when the others recoiled at his true nature – most would have stabbed a stake through his heart for what he stupidly attempted to do that night. He needed her on his side. Astarion wasn’t sure what would end up happening after reaching Moonrise Towers, and he was ashamed to admit he didn’t want to go at it alone. He didn’t know how to be alone. The entire concept of solitude unsettled him.
The men and women he was accustomed to manipulating for Cazador crumbled before him with little effort. Seduction had been his modus operandi for over two centuries. Honeyed words and enticing caresses were second nature to Astarion, always serving as a sinister means to a grim end – delivering innocent victims into the clutches of Cazador for torture, death, or worse.
This was precisely what made Tav simultaneously so magnetic and so frustrating. She hadn't succumbed to his charms as expected. Astarion had even briefly entertained the possibility that maybe she just wasn’t interested in men, but that idea was dismissed when he overheard a late-night conversation between her and Lae’zel, who had made quite an aggressive advance – one she promptly rebuffed. So, what would it take to make her more receptive to his advances?
“Sulking will ruin your pretty face, Astarion.” Shadowheart’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I thought you, of all people,  would know how to have a little fun tonight.”
He scoffed at her, dramatically eyeing her figure up and down. “If that were possible, then you would be the ugliest one here, my dear.” 
Shadowheart stared at him for a moment and then broke out into an uncharacteristic giggle. “We have a long road ahead – be happy that we are all still in one piece, and celebrate for just one night.  I know I am,” she said, waving a bottle of wine towards him. 
“Is that Marsember Blush?” Astarion narrowed his eyes, recognizing the fine vintage wine. “Where did you unearth that? I know that didn’t come from the tiefling’s sorry supplies.”
“You’re not the only one with sticky fingers,” Shadowheart replied, a sly smile on her lips. “And no, I’m not offering any to you. I already have someone to share it with.” With that, she made her way back to the fire near Karlach, who was engrossed in showing the tiefling children her burning Hellion heart. 
He scanned the area for Tav and he found her staring at Halsin with an adoring look. Astarion couldn’t help but feel envious that he wasn’t the recipient of the smile, so gentle that it betrayed the notorious reputation that followed dark elves. He frowned, thinking of Shadowheart's words – she was right. He would have a little fun tonight, and he would get Tav to adore him so thoroughly that she wouldn't ever entertain the thought of betraying him.
Astarion impatiently tapped his foot, waiting for Tav to approach him, but she continued on, disappearing around a corner and heading toward a waterfall beyond the camp. Deciding to follow, he snagged a bottle of wine from a passed-out bard and made his way to her. Astarion found her sitting against a boulder, her head tilted back as she gazed at the stars above.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Astarion said. “Done basking in the limelight, Tav? Got tired of having high praises sung to you?” 
She fiddled with the collar of the lovely dress that she wore for the occasion. “I needed a moment to myself. I don’t get them often lately.” Tav looked up at him, her slate gray skin glowing in the moonlight. Despite the mismatched eyes (thanks to her trusting Volo a little too much), she was beautiful, he noted, and he did have a fondness for beautiful things. Bedding her wouldn't be torture; it could have been worse.
“I’m glad I was able to help them, to show that we’re not all Lolth’s servants. It’s usually a little funny, but sometimes being looked at like a monster is tiring,” Tav confessed.
He blinked, taken aback by Tav’s unexpectedly sincere admission, wondering if he had picked a bad moment to approach her. However, she patted the ground next to her, inviting him to sit, and then she chuckled. "Sorry. Did I ruin the mood?"
Astarion settled down against the rock, bumping his shoulder against hers. Tav watched him intently as he worked on removing the corkscrew from the wine. When he tilted the bottle in her direction as an offer, she declined with a shake of her head, prompting Astarion to take a sip himself. He grimaced from the acrid taste. 
“Well, I never pictured myself as a hero. Never thought I’d be the one people would toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” he paused, taking another mouthful.  “I hate it. It’s awful.” 
“It’s not that bad. Think of all the nasty little goblins you got to kill.” 
“True…” Astarion smiled impishly, thinking fondly on the many different ways to murder. Regular arrows dipped in poison or set ablaze with fiery magic, the thrust of a dagger into vulnerable flesh. The memories were invigorating.
“That was fun," he mused. "Still, I would've liked more for my trouble than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine. All I want is a little excitement tonight, is that so much to ask? The good kind – not the 'we might turn into hideous mind flayers at any moment' excitement." He sighed dramatically and raised the bottle for another sip.
Suddenly, she swiped the bottle from him, and took a long swig. When she lowered the bottle, he watched as her face juggled through a few emotions, ultimately landing on disgust. “See what I mean? Awful.” 
“Absolutely dreadful," she remarked before bursting into laughter.
This close, her scent was intense, sending a thrill through his body. She had a distinct aroma, one that he could uniquely parse out from everyone else’s. Tav smelled of amber and spiced honey and pink pepper, even through the grime and chaos of their adventures.
“Well, you’ve heard the saying? Beggars can’t be choosers,” she slurred slightly, playfully hiding the bottle behind her back.  
“Look at you… my treat with her cheeks all flushed,” he tutted. Astarion peered into her eyes with practiced adoration. “I’m amazed you managed to keep your mind clear enough to fight. I’ve been thinking about our last night together ceaselessly, you know.” 
Astarion wasn’t lying. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of the last time she visited his tent. 
He recalled vividly how she had melted under his teeth, the way her body went limp like a puppet cut from their strings. He had felt profoundly powerful, and she had tasted exquisite, nothing like the rats he had been forced to sustain himself on for centuries. An excitement he had never felt before coursed through his bones at the first droplet. Astarion told himself afterwards it was only because she was his first. He had hoped to have her then, to get the chase done with, as he could smell her arousal clear as day. She had obviously wanted more. And yet, she ran from him. Playing hard to get, he surmised.
“You could just ask for more blood,” Tav responded bitterly. “I knew the goblins weren’t for your refined palate.” The bottle was pushed back into his lap. “You don’t have to woo me with your—” She made a wild gesture with her hands. “—vampiric charms.”
He had hoped a wine-addled Tav would be easier to seduce. 
“Darling, you wound me.” Astarion put a hand to his heart dramatically.  “I saw you earlier, with Halsin. Well, everybody did. Subtlety is clearly not your forte. The way you looked at him had me positively green with envy. Well, I guess I can’t fault your taste, he is a fine specimen.” 
Tav’s ears flushed with embarrassment and she looked away, fixating intently at the fish nearby. They swam down the stream and it reminded Astarion of her, eager to get away from him. 
“That was nothing. Just laughter between friends,” she downplayed.
“Is it so hard to believe that hearing that brings me relief?” 
Another truth. She would be considerably easier to have if she wasn’t attached to someone else. 
"Is it so hard to believe…" He extended his hand to caress her cheek, his touch gentle and tender. “That I want you? That there’s not a single soul tonight, here or otherwise, who I’d rather be with.” When she met his gaze again, Astarion thought he might have caught his little fish by the hook after all.
“Such bewitching lies,” Tav marveled. “I almost believe them. Oh, you’re good.” 
“You don’t have to believe what I say, darling. You just need to believe how I feel .” 
He inched towards her, allowing the wine bottle to roll away from his lap and into the river. Astarion pressed a feather light kiss to her jaw, then her cheek. His fingers held her chin, guiding her to him. When their lips finally met, a sigh escaped her, and Astarion couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as her mouth willingly parted to welcome him. Despite the foul wine, she tasted sweet. And he found that he didn’t mind it, not at all. 
Tav grew more enthusiastic, deepening the kiss. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue in,  and clamped his teeth onto her bottom lip, drawing the flesh into his mouth. She moaned, muffled against him. He had drawn blood. He broke the kiss to lap the blood from her lips, and he felt his cock twitch. A natural reaction for any vampire, he told himself. Blood was simply too exciting. 
Tav drew away from him, breathless, her lip bruised.  “Are you…hungry, Astarion?” she asked. 
Astarion considered her question. He could tell her yes. He could answer that he was always hungry, that he could drink and drink and there'd still be something missing, gnawing away in his chest. It was an insatiable yearning, an emptiness that no amount of blood would ever fill—a bleak hunger that defined his existence, a constant reminder of the curse that haunted him.
Or he could choose to play pretend instead. That would be easier to swallow.
He put on a mischievous smile. “In what way?” 
"Don’t be cheeky," she said, a blush gracing her cheeks as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I had a feeling you might be. It’s been some time... and you always seem so much stronger and happier when you've had your fill."
"And your point is?" Astarion asked, though he already had a sense where this was going. He just wanted to hear her say it.
“That I can help you. That you might as well continue to use me.” She winced at her phrasing. “I don’t have to be a vampire to understand that animals aren’t the same. I suppose if we come to an agreement about it, the others will have to mind their business. Just tell me when you need it. That is – if you want to, anyway.” 
His eyes darkened at the proposition. “How delightfully pragmatic of you,” he purred in response. 
Tav had given him a refreshing game of cat and mouse, but she succumbed to his beauty, just like everyone else before her. Astarion wished he could say he was surprised, but it’d be a lie. This was how it always worked. You want something, you need to give something. He would shut his brain off, bed her and give her a night of earth shattering pleasure; in return he was not only basically guaranteed protection from Cazador, but was also given a reliable source of blood. Two birds, one stone.
There was nothing else he needed to hear, so Astarion swiftly pulled her into his lap, a surprised squeak escaping her lips. “Hey–”  
He pressed a finger to her lips and kissed behind her ear, then her neck. Tav let out a sigh of defeat and leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. Astarion’s curled fingers traced at the healing puncture marks with admiration, thumbs pressing half-moons into her skin. He dragged the tip of a fang over her skin, slicing a neat line. Small beads of blood began to well up along the thin cut, and he closed his mouth over it and sank in. His third time, and yet it was just as exciting as the first – Astarion was well aware that anyone would be appetizing in contrast to his dismal vegetarian diet, but still wondered if others would be better, compared to her. 
If that was possible. He wasn’t sure at that moment. 
Astarion lost himself in an instant as he buried his senses in her neck, a haze of sensation enveloping him like an intoxicating fog. He had understood then Cazador's obsession—how could one not want to ensnare a person, to chain them in perpetual captivity, to render them an unwilling pet, when they tasted like this?
“Not too much,” Tav breathed heavily, her voice trembling. “I might –” She shuddered against him, and he groaned in response, but his hunger drove him forward. Astarion was starving, didn’t she understand? After two hundred years of shit, pure shit, he deserved something better. He was never going to return to the days of deprivation; he would do anything to ensure that pathetic version of himself was gone for good.
Tav’s fingers grasped around his curls, trying to pull him away from the shadow of her neck, but in her weakened state, it was no use. If anything, it spurred Astarion on. Euphoria clouded his judgement, eyes glazed over with sanguine lust as his fangs disappeared deeper into her tender flesh, blood bursting around him. He tugged at Tav’s hips, pressing her down against him, eliciting a whimper from her. His cock had swelled with arousal and Astarion tried to recall the last time he had gotten so hard of his own volition. He couldn’t.
You are still a slave, an unwelcome voice from the depths of his consciousness sneered. A slave to your innate desire. Why deny your true nature?
It took every ounce of willpower in his body to not drain her completely, to disregard the sinister suggestions. Astarion found the strength to pull away, his nose nuzzling against Tav’s jaw as he regained his composure.
"There's a clearing in the forest," he spoke with a steady voice, his fingers gently stroking her hair as she struggled to catch her breath. “I have been waiting to have you. Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you.” 
Tav snorted. “I don’t believe you.”
“Don’t you?” He looked at her with steeled eyes, masking the irritation that simmered in him. He kept the thorniness out of his tone. “I think you want to be known. To be tasted.” 
“And what do you want?”
Astarion’s voice hushed in a sensual murmur, the kind he found most weak willed people were prey to. “What do any of us want? Pleasure. Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To lose yourself in me.” 
“You act like you know everything,” Tav replied, finally looking at him. Her expression was inscrutable, but the smell of desire radiating off her was unmistakable. 
“A pretty man and his prettier words.” She cupped his face, as if she were to lean in and kiss him. But she didn’t. “I’m tired. I hope I was able to help you.” 
Astarion watched dumbfounded as she pushed up from his cradle and his arms fell limp to his side. She rejected him again, he thought incredulously. He didn’t look away until she had turned and disappeared back into camp. Then he wiped the remaining blood off his face with his fingers, fully intending to savor what was left. But then something stole his attention—a motionless fish floating in the stream. Without thinking, he plunged his hands into the water to catch it. Astarion had it for a second, until it wriggled its way out and plopped back into the water, swimming away in a swirl of crimson.
** 
They had been venturing through the labyrinth of the Underdark for countless days. It was a quiet familiarity that Tav was thankful for, despite the fact that she had left for the world above many years ago. After everything that she’d gone through recently, she welcomed something that still made sense to her. She understood it  – tricky paths to avoid, what poisonous plants you shouldn’t go near, the right grounds to make camp on. Due to the nature of the journey she was on with her companions, however, she grew to anticipate unwelcome surprises. 
Still, it hadn’t made it any easier to accept that her cycle had started – Tav had completely forgotten all about amidst the chaos of their tadpole predicament. Drow females only bled every three months and their cycles were extremely heavy and painful. It hit her one day as they were on the trail towards Grymforge, crossing paths with Filro the Forgotten and his hook horrors. The man hadn’t even let her utter a greeting before he attempted to murder them.
“What happened to hello? How are you? My name is?” Gale had complained, jumping out of the way.
Tav was in the middle of casting a fire spell when she felt a heavy gush in her underwear. She stuttered, registering the feeling, and attempted the spell again. This time, her aim was off, narrowly missing the wizard and instead scorching the hair on the top of his head. 
"My friend, have you lost your mind?" Gale shouted at her. "We discussed the value of my own life at length! To kill me is counterproductive!"
Her hand went to her abdomen instinctively as the cramps lurched through her. “My bad,” she stammered.  She took a few steps back, watching Karlach charge ahead with a hammer to whack the vulture-like monstrosity just a hair's breadth away from the wizard’s face. 
"To be sure, I am also averse to being bludgeoned!" he yelled at Karlach. A dripping, acid-coated arrow flew overhead from behind him and pierced the Filro’s right eyeball. Gale threw his hands up in the air with exasperation and quickly teleported himself away to higher, safer ground, muttering something about the stars not being in his favor.
Lae’zel probed at Filro’s lifeless body with her foot. “The elf is dead,” she confirmed, sounding disappointed. 
Astarion stepped up beside Tav, tucking his arrows away. “Did one of those wretched creatures manage to swipe at you?” His tone displayed concern, but his face betrayed a hint of intrigue. 
Shadowheart whipped her head around at his question. “Are you hurt?” she asked, scanning Tav’s body for noticeable wounds. “I’ll tend to you when we’ve set up camp for the night.” 
“No!” Tav blustered, causing Shadowheart to raise her eyebrows in confusion. She quickly clarified: “I’m fine . Astarion is mistaken. I think you might do well to take a look at Gale, though. I may have caused a bald spot.”
In the hours that followed, Tav maintained her distance from Astarion – as he had made it abundantly clear that he could smell her – while they all continued their search for a spot to set up camp. Eventually, they stumbled on an area with access to freshwater, a true blessing. By this point, Tav was simply relieved to have her long cloak, otherwise the others would’ve known for sure that she was bleeding through her trousers like a youngling. She diligently set up her tent, choosing a spot far away from Astarion and close to the lake.
Astarion had not asked to feed on her since they left for the Underdark, and Tav had no intention of offering, especially considering the situation unfolding between her thighs.
Their interactions had remained normal as can be, largely because Tav had bigger matters to occupy her mind than pondering her feelings for him, as if she were a little girl with a crush. Time was a valuable commodity lately and she wouldn’t use her precious free moments dwelling on a man who almost certainly didn’t give her a second thought, unless it was to take something from her. Tav scolded herself every time she found herself looking at him too long or when she thought she saw something softer underneath the shield of malevolence he wore. It was all just a game to him, she told herself, like it was to most vampires. 
After everyone had gone to bed, Tav finally snuck out to wash her clothes at the lake and go for a dip in the water. She wasn’t a prude – she had bathed many times with the women, but sometimes she just desperately needed a moment to herself. Even for something as silly as scrubbing the stains of her cycle out from her pants. She finished cleaning up and made her way back to her tent, dismayed that her fresh cloth was already getting ruined. Tav nearly jumped out her skin when she walked into her bunk and saw Astarion lying nonchalantly on her bedroll. 
“Are you mad?” she hissed at him. “You’re lucky I’m not human, or I would’ve had half a mind to stab you in the darkness.” 
“We both know you wouldn’t have been quick enough to,” Astarion drawled, sitting up. “You sorcerers leave much to be desired when it comes to your hand-eye coordination.” 
They looked at each other for a beat, both listening for any stirring sounds from the others. 
“Why are you here?” Tav demanded.
Astarion replied with a sly grin. “I happen to recall a certain somebody making the generous offer that if I ever got hungry, I could come to them.” 
Tav’s fingers combed through her damp hair as she reflected back on an offer she did indeed make.
“I did say that, yes,” she admitted. “But we can’t tonight. Not until I–”
She halted, a painful cramp pulsing through her.
“…Until I’m done with my bleeding. I’ve lost too much already, I’ll be too weak for you to feed on and Gods know if you end up draining me, you’ll have to wake a very cranky Shadowheart up.” 
Tav opened her tent and held her arm out, signaling for him to get out. “We can revisit this in a few days. I’ll let you know when.” 
“Revisit? What, like we’re discussing tactical advances?” Astarion bristled with frustration as he stood up.
"My dear, I don't believe you grasp the... gravity of the situation. Your scent–“ He accused, his tone growing more intense. "–has been tormenting me for hours. It has taken every ounce of restraint in my being to resist the urge to drag you away from the others and drink until I’ve drowned in your blood. I am utterly and maddeningly ravenous.”
Her hand faltered from the tent flap, closing them in the obscurity of her tent again.
“It won’t have to hurt like usual.” His pupils dilated wildly as he inched closer. Astarion looked feral. “No biting required. I’d hate to waste precious resources.” 
Tav’s face paled when she realized what he was suggesting. She didn’t think she was comfortable with the idea, and yet a warmth started blooming through her.
“And it might provide a distraction from the pain in your belly,” he hummed, latching her tent shut. “I’d say this benefits the both of us.”
“Who’s the pragmatic one now?” Tav answered, her toes tingling. It was a very bad idea, she told herself, way too intimate for what she originally offered.
But when Astarion kneeled down, his fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns up her thighs before he pressed a gentle kiss against her abdomen, and whispered, "Please, darling," she made up her mind.
It was the sensible thing to do. In fact, she reasoned with herself, if she gave Astarion perfectly acceptable, readily available blood now, she wouldn't have to put herself through any more bites for a while. His intense gaze met hers as he looked up, his eyes filled with a potent mix of hunger and desire. His nails gently scraped against the back of her knees, willing her to answer him.
“Be quick about it,” she finally relented.
Astarion wasted no time. He turned her around and pushed her onto her bedroll, tugging at the waistband of her pants, shimmying them over her knees. He fingered at the sides of her underwear, leaning down to kiss the top of her navel.  Tav’s insides fluttered from the sensation of him peppering her from top to bottom. His nose pressed against the dampness of the fabric and she nearly blacked out of embarrassment from the deep inhale he took. 
“You smell intoxicating,” Astarion groaned. “Like the very essence of temptation.” He nearly ripped her bottoms off, throwing them to the ground thoughtlessly along with her soiled rag. His cold breath tickled against her. "It's like I'm a moth drawn to a burning flame. I didn't know it was possible for you to smell even more enticing," he said, genuine bewilderment coloring his tone.
“No need to provide commentary…” Tav mumbled, averting her gaze.
Astarion pushed her legs up over his shoulders, spreading her thighs apart to reveal her slick mound. She started to drip with arousal, a stark contrast to the inky blood that painted her folds. 
“Like honeyed fire, so rich and delicious it ensnared me. I felt it – tasted it – in my throat before I came anywhere near you.” 
He dipped the tips of his index and middle fingers to spread her apart, dragging his tongue in one icey, long lick. The chill, a shock to her core, made her twitch as he licked her agonizingly slow from clit to tailbone. He lapped around her inner thighs, nipping at the flesh, forcing a shiver up her spine. Astarion let out a noise when she involuntarily jerked her body against his face, thighs clenching around his head. He swirled his tongue all around, his nose grazing her nub. 
“Oh,” Tav moaned. Her eyes widened in alarm at the unapproved noise, as if it was an admission of weakness, but it only seemed to encourage him to tongue her faster. Biting down on her knuckle was the only way for Tav to suppress the noise that threatened to spill from her mouth as he ate her like a savage animal having its final meal. The sounds of him lapping up and down at her cunt was obscenely erotic, and she felt herself dripping another gush of blood and arousal into his mouth. He slid his tongue as far as he could inside her slit, attempting to clean her inner walls from the nonstop trickle of blood.  She felt his thumb move to her clit to stroke it in slow circles and another whine fell from her mouth. 
Why didn’t he just get his fill and leave? What was the point of toying with her? Tav needed Astarion to stop, she thought foggily. 
He slurped up as much as he could of her blood, then shifted his attention on her swollen clit. Her legs shook against him, threatening to drop, but he kept her up like she weighed nothing. Tav finally mustered up the courage to look down at Astarion, and he must’ve sensed it, as his blown out eyes met hers. She gasped at the sight, her slickness painting his face so beautifully her cunt practically purred in response. 
“Please.” 
Her desire and uncertainty tangled in that one word. She wasn’t sure what she was pleading for. For him to go? To continue?
Astarion responded with a muffled, guttural groan. Her heels dug into his shoulder blades, urging him on, while his lips locked around her clit with a hunger that left her gasping. He suckled her so desperately that his teeth brushed against her, causing her legs to unconsciously spread further, surrendering to the feeling. Tav didn’t know how long they stayed like that; with Astarion dragging his tongue through her slick folds, alternating between frenzied licks and focused suctions on her clit. Before she knew it, an intense orgasm washed over her, prompting a bite on her own fingers to stop her from keening.  She yelped when she broke skin and her fingers shot to his curls as her sex throbbed. But Astarion didn’t stop – he had gone back to tasting her in lazy, drawn out strokes. 
“It’s sinful,” he muttered against her flushed skin. “It's divine.”
Tav pulled at his hair, hoping he would come off from her, hoping he would leave then.  “You’ve not had your fill?” she croaked.
“I would lay here drinking from you all night until I fell asleep, if I had my way. ” 
She watched him lick the inner corners of her thighs, fangs grazing against her flesh, threatening to bite down. Astarion moved up, trailing kisses under her belly button, then maneuvered her legs around his hips. His hands slid up her sides, scrunching Tav’s top up to show just a hint of her breasts, nipples hardened against the sheer fabric. He pulled away, baring a sharp smile, hair disheveled, teeth smeared with her blood, then pressed his clothed cock against her.  “You can stop your little charade now.” 
Before Tav could reply, he caught her lips in a deep kiss, rutting against her in his strained pants. The comedown from her orgasm had caught her with dull inhibitions as she couldn’t help but return the kiss, tasting her fluids on her tongue, coppery and vaguely salty. Tav couldn’t say she shared his sentiment regarding her blood, but she didn’t pull away, brain spiked with his tongue in her mouth. 
“Let me love you,” Astarion whispered tenderly.
Tav suddenly jolted, breaking out of her spell. She pushed at his chest, her body straightening like a lance.  She seethed with frustration. “Get off.” 
He stiffened, pulling away to meet her glare. “Did I do something wrong, my sweet?” 
“Enough with the fucking pet names,” she practically spat. “You don’t owe me. You don’t have to pretend to want me. I didn’t lie when I said I wanted to help you, so don’t lie to me and recite sonnets and play pretend lover. ” 
He peeled himself from her, and for once, Astarion didn't respond with a quip or a sly remark.
“I… see. I didn't mean to upset you.” 
Her expression softened, though she couldn't help but feel that if Astarion had wanted to pursue it, he would make a great actor. But Tav didn’t want to put herself through a show, no matter how much she had wanted to watch it. 
Tav sighed, her throat feeling parched as she spoke. "It's alright," she murmured, avoiding his gaze while she reached for her pants. “You know, sometimes, people just want to help you. Because they care about you, and they don’t expect anything back.” 
“Everybody wants something.” Astarion remarked.
“You’re right,” Tav acknowledged quietly, nestling herself in her bedroll and turning over. “I want to get some sleep. Good night, Astarion.” 
** 
Halsin's warning about the Shadow Cursed Lands had been clear: it would be a wasteland where even the animals would be too ghoulish for Astarion to feed on.
So for the rest of their journey towards Gymforge and beyond, Astarion gorged himself on as many creatures as he could. Bats, cave goats, owls, giant lizards – everything was fair game. He even contemplated the bulette at one point, but it smelled awful. He drank from anything and everything that moved, all in an effort to stave off the need to ask Tav for her blood. He didn't want to risk upsetting her again. Astarion was still a wanted man, and as long as she tolerated him, he was safe from Cazador.
Though he was satiated on animal blood, it was like eating plain porridge multiple times a day—nourishment, yes, but completely devoid of pleasure. But that was fine; Astarion didn’t want to grow used to Tav, he was disturbed by the way his body reacted everytime he fed on her. 
After the last feeding, he left for his tent with an aching cock. He had tried to will it away, but Astarion had felt too drunk on delirious bloodlust. Back in his bed, he tugged at himself feverishly, in need of the release that was denied to him. Her smell, taste, body – everything, everything about Tav made him throb with desire. It was only logical, a primal urge, nothing more than that. He had, after all, succumbed to the pleasures of the flesh in the past, no matter how unwilling. 
He understood all too well that the body could respond even when the mind wasn't fully present.
And yet, Astarion remained restless at night. When they all retired to their beds, his mind inevitably turned to think of her. He couldn’t shake the memory of how she ran hot against his bone cold body, hugging him like a furnace. His longing for her went beyond the hunger for her blood, and that realization left him uneasy, causing him to distance himself even more from her. However, he stole glances at her from time to time. Sometimes it happened when they gathered around the campfire for supper, sharing plans and stories. Astarion was particularly drawn to her smile, so sweet that her eyes wrinkled at the corners. He couldn't ignore the knot that twisted in his stomach when he saw her smile for anyone else.
"What will everyone do when this is all over?" Tav asked on one of the rare evenings when everyone remained awake.
“Whatever Lady Shar calls for me to do,” Shadowheart answered with determination.
Lae’zel scoffed dismissively. “Chk. It’s a waste of time to ponder.” 
“Well, I miss my Tara terribly,” Gale confessed sadly. “First thing I do, I would like to see her immediately.”
Karlach leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. “Aw man… at least you have someone to return to!” 
Wyll flashed a grin at her. "You could always join me, Karlach. We could be the Blades of the Frontiers together, dispensing justice across the land of Faerûn." He dramatically extended his arms to illustrate the vision. Karlach smiled in response. "I'll hold you to that, soldier."
"I'm afraid the grove needs a fresh start without me," Halsin admitted. "I have a feeling I'll be required elsewhere, though I'm not entirely certain where."
Tav flicked her eyes to Astarion and then looked away while she spoke. “I should hope that no matter where we end up, that we all see each other every once in a while.” She rubbed at her arms and then laughed. “Gods, I know I sound so sentimental. But I’ve grown to truly like you crazy fuckers. And it’s going to be really hard to relate to people after this.” 
“You can say that again,” Wyll agreed. 
Astarion hummed, raising his wine goblet with a flourish. "Don’t fret, my dear friends. I’ll host the most extravagant of parties each season in my grand, opulent palace, and you’ll all be my honored guests. I'll personally hunt you down if you fail to attend or neglect the dress code."
“Hear hear!” Karlach cheered. They clinked their glasses together and Astarion’s breath caught when he saw the corners of Tav’s lips curling up. She was smiling at him. And his cold, dead, unbeating heart felt like it had swelled up so large he thought it might burst out of his chest. 
Fuck, Astarion thought. 
** 
The Last Light Inn was a welcome respite for their weary bodies. Each of them had their own rooms with real beds, and they had all ran to claim their rooms. 
However, as usual, trouble had a knack for finding them. Barely an hour into their stay, they were attacked, though they did manage to defend the inn and its people. Tav sat down hours later on a barstool in the tavern, tossing a coin to a tiefling child who was doubling as the barkeep. The little one handed her a mug, only filled halfway, and she chuckled to herself.
"Guess I won't be drowning my sorrows tonight.” 
She took out her journal and went over her notes. There was so much to keep in mind, so much to go over. Tav scribbled away for an hour or two, and as the common area gradually emptied with everyone retiring to their rooms, she remained absorbed in her journal until a familiar voice broke the silence. “You’re up late.” Tav looked up, finding Astarion standing at the edge of the dimly lit hallway. It had been a while since they had been in the same vicinity as each other alone, and she couldn’t help but feel nervous at the sight of him. He made strides to move towards her, stopping only to stoop down and give His Majesty a little scratch behind its ears.
"Says you," she replied. "Though... well, vampires are nocturnal, aren't they?" 
"Well actually, I’ve grown to quite enjoy watching the sunrise." Astarion said as he grabbed a cup from behind the counter. “Can’t wait to get out of this wretched place. I’m afraid the real reason I’m still up is a bit more mundane—I'm feeling a bit on edge." 
He dipped the mug into a barrel of wine and raised an eyebrow at her disapproving look. "What? Free ale is the least we deserve for saving this sorry little inn from destruction." 
Tav couldn't argue with that. She scooted over on her stool to make room for Astarion, and he joined her without a word. Astarion drank and she wrote in her book and they didn’t say anything to each other; it was a comfortable silence, one they both needed. After a while, Tav couldn't stifle a yawn, her eyes bleary from exhaustion.
"If you yawn any more, I'm going to have to toss you into your room," Astarion remarked dryly, his fingers curled around his fourth glass of wine. "You should get some rest."
She looked at him and noticed his cheeks were gaunt. There was no luster to his appearance, and he appeared more tired than she felt on the inside, likely due to a lack of nourishment. Tav had been waiting for him to ask to feed ever since they stepped foot into these cursed lands, but he never sought her out. There were no animals out in these lands, and most of the people they killed were tainted. Unless one of the others felt like offering, he was short on fuel. Astarion was probably starving, and that’s why he was restless.
Maybe she had been too harsh with him. Tav had been the one to offer blood in the first place, and then she had to go and make things awkward with her outburst. A pang of guilt washed over her.
“You too,” Tav replied. “You honestly look a little awful.” He tensed at the comment and she hurried to add: “You’re hungry. When was the last time you ate?” 
With a subtle lick of his lips, Astarion brushed off her concern. “I'm perfectly fine. I'll feast on some True Souls once we reach Moonrise, and you'll see, I'll be right as rain.”
"You're obviously not fine, Astarion," Tav insisted. "I'm not a stranger. I know you."
His eyes searched hers like he was looking for something, a certain melancholy to them that she couldn’t parse out. Then the look vanished, replaced by an empty expression. 
“I don’t think you do.”
She almost believed a few times he cared for her, in his own way. But it was clear now that her original instinct had been correct: it really had been a game for him, and now Astarion was so bored of her, he’d rather starve. Tav knew that if she were smart, she would feel relieved that he no longer wanted to use her, that he had backed off. But all she felt was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. 
**
Astarion still grieved for his past life, but any memories of family, lovers, or friends remained lost to him. At times, he preferred it that way. Ignorance, after all, had its virtues. Caring for others meant extending a piece of yourself to them, one you often couldn’t get back, and that was a risk he didn’t want to take. Not when he so desperately needed to care for himself. What was so bad about being selfish, he wondered. Astarion couldn't afford to put himself second, not after everything he had been through.
He had come into this world alone, suffered alone, and he would depart this earthly realm alone. 
The second night at the inn, Halsin had gone to find Thaniel, leaving the rest of them to defend his portal while they awaited his return. They hadn't expected the overwhelming forces drawn to destroy it. Wave after wave of undead assailants descended upon them, and they found themselves severely outnumbered.
Tav, determined to protect the portal, was casting a wall of stone when a wraith suddenly teleported and slashed at her, breaking her concentration. Her cry pierced the chaotic battle, and Astarion whipped around at the sound. She crumpled to the ground, clutching her stomach in agony.
"No, no, Tav! Get up, damn you!" Astarion shouted. Without hesitation, he lunged forward with his daggers and tore into the wraith until it dissipated into a shadow of smoke. 
"The portal—" Tav choked out, blood spluttering from her throat. He knelt down and pulled her up against him.
“Fuck the portal,” Astarion grit his teeth. “Shadowheart!” 
Shadowheart, engrossed in protecting Karlach and Lae'zel from cursed Harpers trying to break through, couldn't hear him. He yelled for Shadowheart again, but her attention remained focused on the women. Tav had made a promise to Halsin to keep the portal open, and the others were determined to honor that promise. Astarion cursed them all.
As he looked down at Tav, he saw her eyes dimming, her hand outstretched towards the portal. 
She mouthed, "Halsin."
The druid had come back with the child. 
Astarion would’ve turned back time and seen Halsin dead and the Shadow-Cursed lands forever damned if it meant that he would never again have to feel the fear that struck his heart when Tav went slack in his arms.
** 
“She’ll be alright,” Shadowheart assured, the back of her palm against Tav’s forehead, feeling for her temperature. “She just needs some rest.” 
Astarion had been pacing at the end of Tav's bed, unable to leave her side since their return to the inn. "How long?”
“Can’t say. Maybe a few hours.” Shadowheart put the rest of her scrolls and potions away into her bag. “She’s tougher than she looks, Astarion. Don’t worry too much.”
“I’m not worried,” Astarion huffed, fixing his face to a smooth nonchalance. “But… I’ll stay here with her. Just in case. You should get to bed. You know, vampire and all, we're creatures of the night and whatnot.” 
Shadowheart gave him a knowing look before she left.  “Let me know if she still feels poorly.” 
Astarion quietly pulled a chair closer to Tav's bedside, taking care not to stir her. As he sat there, he wondered what he would say when she woke up. He hadn't planned beyond his initial rush into her room. Hours passed, marked by the gentle rise and fall of her breathing and he never got up from his seat. The exhaustion of the day slowly overcame him and though he tried to fight it, Astarion drifted off into a trance.
Tav woke up after some time, groggy and disoriented. After she checked her body and found nothing out of place, she blinked a few times, surprised to find Astarion sitting nearby.
“No,” Astarion mumbled, his fingers gripping the armrest of his chair. “No. I'll never come back.” 
In his nightmares, Cazador taunted him — to his master, he was akin to a mere child who had simply gotten carried away with the infantile joys of freedom. His relentless pursuit haunted him through the forest, and no matter how far into the void Astarion ran, he could still hear him. Oh, how foolish of him to dream of a life that was his own — he would never escape. No matter how far he fled, Cazador would inevitably find him...
"Please, no, Master —" he cried out.
Tav reached her hand out to gently cover one of his. "Astarion," she said, her voice soft and soothing, despite her sore throat. 
His eyes fluttered open, the rims around them inflamed, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. 
"Cazador," he sputtered, still caught in the grip of his night terrors. 
"You're safe. He's not here," she reassured him, trying to withdraw her hand, but he held it firmly. "You were having a bad dream."
Astarion nodded. “Yes.” His eyes closed as took a deep inhale, calming himself from the remnants of his nightmare. “I didn’t intend to wake you.” 
“No, no, it’s okay. I woke up on my own.” Tav replied, her expression equally laced with concern and suspicion. “Um. Is something wrong? What are you doing here?”
Astarion was quick with his answer. He didn’t want to tell her that, no, actually, he had gone sick with worry and had practically barked at everyone to clear the way as he rushed into the inn with her injured body. “Everything is fine. We just wanted to make sure you were alright. Everyone else is asleep right now.”
“I should’ve been more aware of my surroundings,” Tav frowned apologetically. “I didn’t mean to worry you all. But Halsin came back with Thaniel, didn’t he?” 
He scowled, recalling how his forehead vein nearly burst when Halsin confirmed that Thaniel was of no use until they located his missing half. "I could've strangled Halsin for taking as long as he did. All for some comatose child."
Her eyes bore into him. “I would’ve gone through the pain a thousand more times to help Halsin cure this land. You can’t blame him for anything.” 
Tav was light and goodness and hope and everything Astarion was not and he wanted to throttle her and tell her that this miserable, revolting world didn’t deserve her. 
“I can, and I will. But thankfully, you’re okay. No need for anyone’s head to roll.”
“Ugh. You are so dramatic,” she laughed, her hand splaying under him. His finger rubbed a circle on the back of her palm. Then she paused, and they stared at each other, and Astarion almost shrank from the intensity of her gaze. “I appreciate you watching over me. I’m good, really. I can take it from here. You can go now.” 
“If that’s what you want,” he replied. 
”I…” She hesitated, her eyes shifting slowly between his, searching for something in them. "What do you want?"
Tav had asked Astarion this question once before, and he had delivered his answer, every word rehearsed and refined countless times with various people.
“I’m not entirely sure,” he confessed. His eyebrows furrowed as he pushed himself to continue. "I… want to free myself from my constant thoughts of you.”
An unfamiliar tightness gripped his throat. Astarion had always thought of her softness as a horrible weakness, but now, with Tav before him, he understood that to be soft was a terribly difficult thing to do.
“I want…” he continued, voice barely above a whisper. “... to kiss you.” 
Tav echoed his previous response. 
"Well, if that's what you want."
He was careful, the way he rose to caress her cheek, and agonizingly slow as her lips parted and his cold thumb brushed against them. Astarion closed the gap and pressed a kiss on her, so gentle he thought he only imagined doing it. He tilted her head up, the kiss deepening with a swift graduation of intensity that made Tav cling to him as if he were the only solid thing in her dizzying world. 
This was different, Astarion marveled — this felt like undeniable need.
“I can’t summon up any clever words,” Astarion breathed against her lips. “Just that I want you.” 
“Then shut up for once and have me.” She twined her arms around his neck and his tongue glided past her lips to taste her, eliciting a sound from her that redirected all the blood in Astarion’s body in a sweet rush. Every movement of her lips sent a jolt through his body, fanning the blaze that was shared back and forth between them. 
How maddening was it, that one second Astarion was afraid to falter, and the next she reduced him to desperation.
He devoured her with tongue and teeth, pushing her back into the mattress, only stopping when it felt like they would die from lack of oxygen. Astarion broke away from her embrace, peeled his shirt off and hurled it to the ground, then tugged at her pants; she clumsily arched herself up to help him strip her clothes off. Next was her top, then her underwear; his eyes swept over her, committing every detail and every curve to memory. 
“You, my little dove, truly are a vision.”
Tav laughed with embarrassment, but her laughter dissolved into a moan as Astarion's lips met hers. She kissed him like she was untangling him, and he kissed her like he wanted to own her from the inside out. Then she gasped, the sound shooting straight to his cock. “I’ve wanted you. Everytime. But I was scared.”
He groaned and released her from his mouth, then captured her lips in his again. Astarion had never wanted so hopelessly to see someone come undone under him. 
“I know darling. I’m always right,” he chuckled against her lips, the arrogance hiding the relief he felt. She tsked at him and his fingers gently wrapped over her throat, as the other hand thumbed at her lips. “I’m jealous of your neck,” he mused. “It gets to hold your lovely head up, when it could be my hands instead.” 
It was sickening, Astarion thought, how unbelievably, excruciatingly hard he was, and he had barely even touched her. Tav watched him curiously, her eyes raking over his body with lust.  “I want to taste you,” she pleaded breathlessly. “Let me.” 
“Not tonight,” he said simply, wanting nothing more than to see her pretty lips wrap around his cock and to see her struggle for air. But he’d be lying if the simple act of denying her didn’t turn him on. Astarion prodded at her lips with his fingers, knocking at her teeth, slipping two into her mouth. “You can work for that.” 
She opened her mouth without further complaint.  He pressed down on her tongue and she sucked as he slowly twisted his fingers around. Astarion lowered a trail of kisses down her face, peppering her jaw, neck, collarbones, the dip between her breasts. Then, he took his spit slicked fingers out with a plop, saliva trailing out from her lips, before moving down to spread open her wet folds. Tav was dripping with arousal, eyes fluttering in anticipation of pleasure, and Astarion thought he’d like to keep her like this forever. He pinched at her clit then rubbed firm and slow; her hips twitched against him, silently asking for him to go faster, harder, anything, to make her cum. 
But Astarion wasn’t going to let her, he had never intended to let her cum – at least not yet, it was too soon, not when he wanted to unravel her more.
“Get on your knees for me, darling.”
Tav had no choice but to roll over and prop herself up on her elbows. She looked back at him, her eyes glassy with frustration. He could barely hold himself together to whisper sweet nothings into her back, something that had been so vile to do before and so easy to do now. Astarion ached to have her: anywhere, in every position, in every possible way, to mark her and make it so that everyone would know that Tav was his to have. 
He tried to shake away the obsessive thought but it burned through him so deeply that it nearly pushed Astarion to rage. His kisses dragged lower and lower until his hands squeezed at the undersides of her ass. Astarion spread her thighs apart and opened her up like ripe fruit with his thumbs, watching her drool drip down her folds. He lapped his tongue up from her glistening folds to her rim and Tav’s knees buckled under the sensation.   
Astarion wasn’t just eating her out, he was tonguefucking her; he delved deeper, groaning against her as she pushed back into his face and her musk clouded his mind. The taste of her constant, dripping wetness was intoxicating, second only to her life-giving blood. It threatened to drown Astarion, like a violent wave crashing at the shore of his senses. 
He snaked in and out of her puckered hole, back to her cunt, everything growing slick and sloppy and sensitive, wet sounds mixing with moans spilling from both of them. The contrast of the cold of his tongue and the hotness of her cunt was exquisite, and he thought Tav deserved the gift of his fingers again. His index and middle fingers slid through to part the lips of her sticky cunt, then disappeared, quickly thrusting in and out of her. 
“I need–” She made a strangled sound before she buried her face into her pillow, not wanting to make any more noise should the rooms next door hear.  Then, she nearly sobbed at the sudden loss of his lips against her, though his fingers were still deep at her base. He reached forward to tug at her hair abruptly, bringing her head up from the bed. 
“You need what?” Astarion feigned ignorance, not slowing down the pace of his fingers fucking in and out of her. Tav reached down with her hand to press against her clit, grinding her palm flat against her pubic bone. She humped against her hand and back into his fingers, again and again until he released her hair and snatched her hand and held it against her back as he buried a third finger into her cunt. 
“Fuck, Astarion.” 
The way Tav cried out his name made Astarion want to drag this out, to deny her the way she had done to him for so many weeks. Until she was a sobbing, pleading, pathetic mess. He pressed a wet kiss against her cunt and barely held back a wicked smile when she shook as his fingers curled, pulling and pushing in her.
“Sorry pet, I can’t hear you.” 
“Fucking...“ Tav grit her teeth, her temper rising when she realized he was playing with her. “All this time you've been accosting me and now you want to tease?"
"Little known fact about me, I'm actually hard of hearing in one ear," he lied, pushing a fourth finger into her squelching cunt. Tav pushed her face into the pillow and groaned in frustration, before picking her head back up, choking out the words.
"Astarion, I need you to fuck me." 
“Oh,” he replied, like the answer hadn’t been so obvious. “All you had to do was use your words.”
He withdrew his fingers from her. Tav strained her head to see him tugging his pants down, cock springing out, beautiful and veiny, precum leaking and turned on to the point of agony. Astarion gave himself one firm stroke from root to tip and back. She bumped against him, but he pushed her back down and dragged the tip through her cunt. 
“So wet.” He slid the head between her slick folds, rubbing up to her clit, and back down. Again and again, each time dipping closer to where she needed him most in a torturously unhurried pace. “You’re always so wet for me, aren’t you, my sweet?” 
She moaned an agreement into the bed and ground herself against him, hard enough that Astarion felt relief all around his painfully erect cock. It was truly difficult to stop himself from fucking her deep into the mattress, but the novelty of how much he enjoyed seeing her squirm under him was too new, too enthralling.
“Looks like you enjoy the pet names after all.” 
“Astarion,” Tav cried, rutting desperately on his cock. She looked like she would either break down in tears or hit him. He thought he would enjoy either option. 
Astarion flipped her over on her back and summoned the best of his self control to kick off his pants. Then he kissed her deeply and pushed in, slowly, stretching her out; mesmerized by the needy look on her face and the way her lips parted in a gasp. He wanted to savor this, to paint a picture in his mind to look back on in case it never happened again, but it only lasted a few seconds before Tav wrapped her legs around his waist, willing more of him into her. 
“Tav,” Astarion stuttered, grabbing hold of her hips roughly. “Cheeky little pup — so desperate.”
He slowly dragged out of her until only the tip of his cock was left, holding her legs apart so he could admire the view of her taking the entirety of his length as he pushed back in leisurely. 
“Astarion, fuck me, please, I can’t breathe until you do.” 
Would he ever tire of his name being used like a prayer? Astarion growled in response, pulling and burying himself at the hilt of her cunt. Then he fucked her faster - the pace brutal and unrelenting - and her walls clenched so tight around him that it hurt, a smooth and velvety pain along his cock. When Tav’s eyes rolled back he freed a hand to grab her throat, forcing her to look at him.
“I would tear myself open limb from limb if you could only see the mess you’ve made of me,” he panted. 
Tav choked around his fingers, unable to reply, eyes wide in disbelief; Astarion released her throat to grip the back of her thighs and pin her knees to her chest with bruising strength. He lost himself, he didn’t stop moving, didn’t let up. Fucking her felt both sacred and like sacrilege, like being eviscerated by divine rapture, like something he simply didn’t deserve. He would have chained himself down at her altar and would've ripped through his own ribcage with his bare hands to offer his lungs as sacrifice if that's what she demanded. 
“Yes, it’s so good, Astarion—” Tav babbled incoherently under him, her breasts jiggling with each thrust. “You’re so good. So fucking good.” 
Astarion lurched forward with a groan and buried his face into her juncture between her neck and shoulder, inhaling sharply as his nose nudged at her fading wound. It was wholly unnatural to resist biting her, but he did. He wasn’t good, he had probably never been good in any lifetime. But he wanted to be – would try to be – if that’s what she wanted. Astarion fucked her to the ragged rhythm of his name, hard and deep and devastating, hissing everytime her walls flexed and gripped around him. 
“Bite me,” Tav begged, her arms sliding around him, one slipping into his hair and the other clawing at the scarred skin of his back. “You don’t have to ask. Never.” 
Astarion wavered, but only for a second. His teeth dragged over her skin like the point of a knife and she leaned into it, the pounding of her heart echoing in Astarion’s ears. Tav let out a needy pant of encouragement when he sank in, nothing careful or gentle about his bite. Hot pulsing blood rushed into his mouth; it poured into every vein in his body, exploding everywhere at once.
Tav thrashed under him, threading her fingers through his curls and holding him in place.  He drank and sucked until the skin underneath him spurted so much blood that it spilled out past the corners of his mouth, drenching their chests as they rocked against each other. He dragged a finger through the rain of blood and when it was coated he smeared it on her swollen clit, working frenzied, clumsy circles on it. His arm grew tense with the speed and intensity of it but he didn’t stop. Tav’s sopping wet cunt sucked him in messily in the silence and a dark satisfaction curled through Astarion’s gut, knowing that it was impossible to not hear them throughout the inn.
“You’ll be my undoing,” he told her, less of a statement and more of a promise. Astarion kissed her through the film of blood that coated the inside of his mouth, wet and metallic and sweet. He groaned when she licked the taste of her off his lips and he fucked into her like an animal, spurred on by the cries she tried and failed to stifle. When Tav came, she clamped down so blindingly tight on Astarion’s cock that an orgasm ripped from his body forcefully, shooting through him and spilling into her as deeply as her cunt would allow. 
**
"You'll stay here?" Tav's words were a barely audible request, masked as a question. The persistent voice that had carved out an unwelcome home in his brain urged him to get up and leave. But Tav curled around him like it was the most natural thing in the world, and he couldn’t find the strength to listen. 
Maybe she would ruin him. Maybe they’d consume each other. Maybe he’d wake up in the morning and pretend tonight never happened. Or maybe some things just burned brighter in the wake of destruction. Astarion was drawn to the fire now, even if it meant risking his wings. 
Astarion pressed a gentle kiss to her damp forehead and drew her closer to his chest. Tav hummed a satisfied sigh, the heat from her body radiating and wrapping him like the thickest blanket in the dead of winter. In that fleeting moment, he wondered if there was a way to bottle her warmth and tuck it away for his loneliest hours.
He chose to settle for a simple truth.
“Yes.” 
2K notes · View notes
ellecdc · 2 months
Note
Hi! I’ve never requested to anyone before, but I really love how you write Regulus. Could I request an arranged marriage with Regulus, where Regulus was head over heels for Reader at Hogwarts but kept her at arm’s length knowing he was bound to an arranged marriage? And him not knowing what to do now that they are finally married. With a calm and observant Reader. I hope it’s not too much trouble 😬😊Thank you!
such a sweet idea! thanks for your request!! I hope you do again 🫶
The Arranged Marriage of Regulus' Dreams
Regulus Black x fem!reader - arranged marriage (no Voldemort AU)
“You’re fucking with me.” Regulus hissed to Narcissa as he watched you and your parents walk through the door of 12 Grimmauld Place.
Narcissa smirked and nudged her younger cousin out into the hall. “Nope, now go on cousin, say hello to your fiancée.”
Regulus thought he was dreaming. No. Certainly he was dead. Would he have gotten into heaven though? Surely not. But if he wasn’t in heaven, then what were you doing here?!
“Mr. L/N, Mrs. L/N. Miss. L/N.” Walburga Black greeted the family as the Black family house Elf, Kreacher, took their outer robes.
“Ah, not Miss. L/N for much longer though.” Your father laughed as he jostled your shoulder a little too roughly, causing you to teeter slightly in your heels.
Regulus wanted to kill him.
“Of course! Tomorrow’s the big day, hm? The most important moment in a young woman’s life.” Orion Black proclaimed as he ushered everyone into the dining room. Regulus noticed your slight grimace at his father’s words, but your face softened as you made eye contact with him.
He smiled softly and bowed his head, taking your hand in his to place a chaste kiss to your knuckles – just like a proper pureblood heir ought to when meeting their betrothed.
Regulus had no idea it was you he was bound to marry. 
Most noble and high-ranking pureblood families partook in arranged marriages. The heir of the family was the most important – most coveted. Regulus wasn’t always the heir – so his engagement wasn’t announced to him until his 5th year – the year that Sirius ran away from home.
The Black’s were readying their new heir; getting their affairs in order.
Regulus could admit that he didn’t really agree with everything his parents stood for. Sirius may have been able to escape his parent’s clutches, but Regulus wasn’t as lucky. 
He found the idea of arranged marriage to be a little archaic, but he was nothing if not a loyal, devoted son. No matter how much it hurt. 
No matter. Regulus understood his duty.
He had been crushing hard on this pretty witch in the year below him at Hogwarts for years, but he never felt confident enough to act on it. By the time he was confident enough to act on it – he’d been promised to someone else, so he never ended up pursuing it. What was the point of falling in love when you were bound to be married for business?
And here that witch was…with her parents…in his home…the evening before his wedding…as his bride. 
No…certainly this was a prank. A joke. A stroke? He was dead. In heaven? Maybe this was his hell.
He must have been running on autopilot, because suddenly he was seated beside you at the formal dining room after he had tucked your chair in under you, listening to the adults the parents discuss business.
He didn’t feel much like an adult right now.
He felt like a prepubescent schoolboy with a crush. 
How humiliating. 
“So, Orion and I will be leaving tomorrow immediately after the wedding.” Walburga announced. “Regulus will be the official head of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black along with his wife Y/N, and we will leave the affairs to them.”
“What are your plans for after the wedding?” You father asked Walburga.
Regulus wanted to roll his eyes. Isn’t that the kind of question people are meant to ask the bride and groom?
“Where’s the honeymoon? What are your plans afterwards? Where will you be living? Do you plan on having kids?” 
Regulus had to stop his train of thought – getting a little too excited thinking about his marriage…to you.
Surely he was dead. Surely.
“We have a few properties in France.” Orion interjected before Walburga continued.
“We’ll be residing in a vineyard in the South of France. Retirement will be good for Orion.”
“How lovely. You’re resigning from your position in the Wizengamot?” Your mother inquired.
You and Regulus shared a look and a shy smile before returning to your plates.
“Regulus will be overtaking my position in the courts, as well as the Black’s affairs in the Ministry. We donate a lot of money to keep that government running.” Orion stated proudly. Regulus fought the urge to grimace. 
“It’s a good thing too – Salazar knows that place would be run by mudbloods and halfbreeds if we weren’t careful.” Walburga added.
Regulus had to hand it to you – the only sign you even heard his mother was the slight raising of your eyebrows before the returned to their rightful place above your eyes.
He was smitten.
“Well, our darling Y/N will be a wonderful addition to the Black legacy. She was top of her class, she’s a powerful witch, and loyal to her kind.” You father proclaimed, jostling your shoulder once again.
Regulus couldn’t help himself; he gently placed his hand on the same shoulder your father’s hand was and brushed it – effectively shooing your father’s hand away. He rubbed your shoulder consolingly before returning his gaze to the table.
But not before he caught Narcissa’s knowing smirk as she eyed the two of you.  
“Marvellous. I think this will be a very wonderful match.” Walburga proclaimed.
Regulus didn’t often like agreeing with his mother – but he couldn’t help but feel the same.
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The house was disturbingly quiet after the affairs that took place today. 
The trip to the ministry to get your marriage license. Your ceremony on the grounds of Malfoy Manor, and the reception that here at 12 Grimmauld Place, where your image and name were added to the Black Family tapestry. 
This is where Regulus found himself now, in the formal living room – hiding from you.
Not hiding from you.
Sort of hiding from you.
Regulus never grew up expecting much; at least not much of what he wanted. He lucked out getting to play quidditch, but everything else had been decided for him.
His house at Hogwarts was decided for him. His friends were decided for him. His marriage was decided for him.
But now that he had this? A marriage with you – the one witch he would have actually chosen for himself?
Well, he just didn’t know what to do with himself.
So, he was hiding in the formal living room, staring at the Black Family tapestry where your name and portrait was woven in beside his. 
He had never felt this lucky before.
His eyes, as they often did, wandered over to the place where Sirius’ name and portrait had been blasted off some years ago.
Regulus got what he wanted in you… he only wished his brother had been there too.
This is how you found him, standing against the back of a settee with the sleeves of his button-down rolled up, shirt untucked and tie loosened. 
“Oh, hi L/N…erm…” he trailed off awkwardly as you smiled kindly at him.
“I supposed you’ll have to call me by my name, now that we’re married.” You stated plainly as you moved to stand beside him to look at the tapestry.
“Did you know?” Regulus asked quietly after a few moments of silence.
“Know what?”
“Know that it was going to be me? That you were to be married to?” He clarified.
You shook your head in the negative. “I never bothered asking. Didn’t think there was much sense, seeing as there was nothing to be done about it.”
Regulus nodded in understanding. “Are you disappointed?”
“That it was you?” You asked. Regulus nodded. “Not at all.”
Regulus hoped his relief wasn’t as evident on his face as it felt. 
You turned your head back to the tapestry before pulling your wand out and stepping towards it. You pointed it gently at the place Sirius’ name was and murmured something quietly. 
Regulus watched in awe as the strands of the portrait stitched themselves back together, proudly displaying his big brother again.
“Is this alright?” you asked as you turned to observe him. He nodded dumbly as he swallowed against a painful lump in his throat. His eyes flitted to Andromeda’s burn mark. 
“Do you mind doing that one too?” He asked quietly.
You smiled softly and turned back, repeating the spell until Andromeda’s name was once again displayed on the wall.
“The Black’s can be whoever you want them to be now, you know?” You murmured quietly, eyes intent on Regulus’ form.
“I’m happy with the newest addition, so far.” He admitted shyly, wishing he was bold enough to proclaim exactly what he thought of you.
You smiled bashfully, and Regulus delighted in the slight flush that coloured your cheeks. “What else should we do?”
Regulus thought for a moment before a devious grin grew across his face.
“I say we start by pulling the funding from the Ministry. What do you think, my dear wife?”
Your smile looked like it was trying to be as wicked as Regulus’, but you fell painfully short. Regulus doubted you could ever manage looking anything but sweet.
“Sound’s perfect, darling.”
Regulus was in heaven – surely. 
762 notes · View notes
lendeah · 4 months
Text
Bubbles and battle wounds
Prompt: Astarion comforts you after a bad day featuring a bathtub.
Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader
Words: 1.3k
Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort.
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The day had been brutal, filled with never-ending battles against a seemingly endless enemies. Karlach, Wyll, Gale and yourself had fought tirelessly, your bodies pushed to the brink of exhaustion and beyond. But even during such chaos, there was one failure that weighed heavily on your mind - the gnomes at the factory who died despite your best efforts. The guilt gnawed at you relentlessly as you stumbled back to the Elfsong Tabern, your body battered and bruised. You didn't even have the strength or will to say goodbye to the rest of your companions before heading to Astarion's bed. The elf lies stretched out on the bed, with his eyes glued to a book. Despite this, you know that he is still aware of your presence as he raises a brow.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here? Looks like someone's had quite the day," he says with a sly grin. "Do tell me all about it. Who did you fight? Did you put up a good fight?"
He slowly sits up on the bed, his gaze traveling up and down your body before finally resting on your face. His expression shifts from curiosity to concern as he takes in your appearance. Your legs tremble uncontrollably, a clear indication that something is seriously wrong.
“I-I need a bath,” you say, on the verge of tears.
He gets up from his bed and walks over to you, placing a hand on your arm to steady you with preoccupation etched on his face. "Of course, my dear. Let me help you," he says, his voice soothing and comforting.
You quietly make your way to the bathroom, and you feel like in a daze. Astarion's arm is securely wrapped around your waist as he supports your trembling body. Every step feels like a struggle, so you are grateful for his assistance. The room is small but cozy, with a large tub taking up most of the space. A faint smell of lavender fills the air, calming your nerves slightly.
Without a word, Astarion begins to run a bath for you, carefully adjusting the temperature to your liking. He then gestures for you to sit on the edge of the tub as he helps you out of your armor and clothes. He seems to be searching for any wounds on your body, but doesn't seem to find anything too serious. You feel vulnerable and exposed under his gaze, but also comforted by his familiar presence.
Once you are fully bare, you get into the bathtub, hugging your knees to your chest and sobbing slightly. He also undresses and gets in the tub behind you, having you between his legs. Your mind is filled with images of the battle you just fought, and the guilt and pain are overwhelming.
After a few seconds, you feel his hands on your back, gently massaging and washing away the dirt and grime from your skin. His touch is tender and soothing, making the tension in your body slowly melt away. You lean into his touch, grateful for his presence.
"Do you want to talk about it, my love?" he finally asks in a gentle voice, breaking the silence.
You shake your head, tears now falling freely down your face. "I couldn't save them," you say between sobs. "They trusted me and I couldn't save them."
He leans forward and wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling your body close to his chest. You feel his familiar cold and soft skin, slowly calming your racing heart. "It's not your fault," he whispers in your ear. "You did everything you could."
But you can't help but feel responsible. You had promised to protect them, and yet they fell in battle while you survived. It feels like a betrayal of their trust in you. You sigh, laying your head on your knees again. He starts massaging your hair and scalp and you feel the tension start to leave your body, as the water around you both turns brown with blood and grime.
"You don't always have to be strong for others," he whispers softly. "It's okay to let yourself grieve."
You nod slowly, letting out a shaky breath. The sobs come out in full force now, racking your body with each wave of pain and sadness. Astarion holds onto you tighter, whispering words of comfort as he lets you cry it out. Eventually, your tears run dry and you lay there spent and exhausted.
As Astarion continues massaging your scalp, he notices the water turning brown with grime and blood. He frowns slightly.
"Let me take care of this," he says softly before pouring some fresh water into the bathtub to replace the dirty water.
You watch him silently as he steps back in, and resumes carefully washing your hair, his touch gentle and soothing. The newly warm water and the smell of soap lull you into a state of relaxation, and you close your eyes.
"You have beautiful hair," he comments, running his fingers through the strands.
You open your eyes and turn to look at him, surprised by his words. "Thank you," you say softly.
When he is finished, he pulls you back toward his chest, embracing you. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek affectionately before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "Even with bruises and blood, you manage to be the most captivating sight I've ever beheld," he says sincerely.
Turning around in his embrace, your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as you hold on tightly, hugging him in response. Astarion's hands move from your hair to your back, caressing your skin gently. He leans in and presses a soft kiss against your shoulder, his lips lingering for a moment. "You truly are a wonder, my dear," he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity. "Even amid chaos and despair, your spirit remains unyielding. It's no wonder I am utterly infatuated with you."
His words wash over you like a balm, soothing the ache in your heart. With Astarion by your side, the weight of the world feels just a little lighter. Leaning against Astarion's chest, you let out a contented sigh. "Thank you," you whisper softly. "For being here."
His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer. "You don't have to carry it all alone," he murmurs against your ear. "Lean on me when you need to. I'll always be here to catch you."
A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You reach up and brush a strand of hair away from his face, your fingers lingering against his cheek. "You should lean into me too," you whisper, feeling a sense of hope blossoming within you.
He smiles softly before leaning closer and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is gentle yet filled with unspoken emotions. You feel yourself melting into him, reveling in the warmth and safety he provides. Astarion brushes his fingers against your cheek before pulling away. "Let's get out of this grimy water," he says with a smirk, offering you a hand to help you stand up.
Astarion helps you out of the bathtub and wraps a soft towel around you before grabbing one for himself. You both dry off quickly and he leads you to the bed, where he hands you one of his clean shirts.
"Put this on," he says, handing it to you. "We can't have my dear hero looking like a ragamuffin."
You take the shirt from him with a smile, and slip it over your head, reveling in his lingering smell on the piece. Astarion watches you with a smile, clearly pleased with how you look in his clothes.
"Mmm, you're finally looking presentable," he purrs, raking his fingers through your damp hair. "Now, let's get some rest. We have a full day of scheming ahead of us."
You nod in agreement and climb onto the bed, snuggling into the soft blankets. Astarion joins you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him, as his fingers gently trace soothing circles on your back. As you drift off to sleep, you can't help but feel grateful for having Astarion by your side. Despite all the chaos and danger surrounding you both, he brings a sense of peace and comfort that you never knew was possible.
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fangsandfeels · 5 months
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Got hit with more thoughts about spawns and Cazador...
...and naturally, I'm posting it here because I'm no longer a functional human being.
I remember the lingering question that Astarion seemingly being only one of the spawns using seduction to lure victims in. At least, there is no menition of other’s doing so, except for Petras. So, why is that? Why Astarion was the only one?
In my opinion, it stems from Cazador’s very particular choice of victims. In all these years, he acquired only seven spawns (except for the thousands of Turned nobody knew about), and almost all of them used to be accomplished or talented people:
- Violet, a beloved and talented songbird from Reithwin;
- Dalyria, a respected doctor working in the Parliament;
- Leon, a sorcerer (a spell modifiaction he came up with shows how good he is at his magic);
- Astarion, a magistrate with a promising future, centuries of life ahead of him, and a beauty worthy of a thousand paintings.
Following this tendency, we can assume that Yousen, Aurelia, and Petras also were similarly talented or good at something enough to attract Cazador’s attention and make him envious.
The bastard thinks very highly of himself. He calls himself the most intelligent and beautiful creature out there, and spends hours writing letters to other vampire lords, trying to convince them of his grandeur. He attempts to inflate his ego, making it finally big enough to overcompensate for his miserable inferiority complex, in any way he can: so, whenever he spies someone with a talent or potential, someone who might be better than him at anything, he snuffs them away, adds to his collection, and then breaks them over and over, making them believe that they’re nothing. He is the father who gives them purpose; they are his spawn who owe him everything; and everything they have belongs to him.
And maybe, aside from tortures, and humiliation, and gaslighting, and forcing “siblings” to hurt each other, he came up with one more way to break them - when he forces them to hunt, he forces them to use everything that made them special, loved, respected, and admired for the most gruesome things.
- Violet, previously a talented singer whose voice was fondly remembered up to Reithwin’s fall, using her voice to catch attention; using her image and charm to lure people into the palace to their death.
- Dalyria, picking her victims around apothecaries and temples that responded to the people's suffering by closing doors in their faces, seeking out refugees and ailing citizens low on coin, offering to help them, kindly inviting them to “her place” (if we take Karlach’s family as an example, finding a healer who would agree to help a less-than-wealthy family is quite a problem at the city).
- Leon, using his talents and magic to nab people from the street, to drag them to Cazador without a fight while knowing that he will never be able to use the same power against the bastard himself.
- Astarion, a previously sophisticated, proud, and beautiful elf, stripped of his dignity and pride, using his body to either seduce poor young and inexperienced souls (fulfilling their image of an ethereal and caring lover) or let himself be pawed at by drunkards and brothel-goers.
I don’t think any of Cazador’s choices were accidental. I don't think he had to roam the streets at night, looking for potential candidates; that he ever Turned any of them by chance.  
They all caught his eye at some point, became an object of his obsession, and then fell victim to a scenario where they were confronted by a promise of salvation - and each time, it made Cazador giddy with excitement and a sense of self-importance. He took them away from the world because he could. He will twist and shape them to his whim because he can. And then, he will take everything from them, reducing them to miserable wretches because this is who they should be, compared to him.
They will belong under his heel, scared, helpless, and obedient, worshipping him and fearing him. Forever.
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jujoobedoodling · 3 months
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Let us enjoy these fleeting moments in time, for we know not what sorrow the future holds.
as promised some sappy sylvaina (on the brink of disaster)
it took me a while to figure out dalaran apprentice jaina but i hope i captured that wide-eyed idealism and sense of hope/optimism. and sylvanas is just some very important elf with some thousand years under her belt give or take who fell in love with a human. i mean who can blame her when jaina looks that cute
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astarionapologist · 3 months
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My head too is full of bg3 so I'm gonna go ahead and suggest/ request a Halsin x female Tav fic, smut is very welcome hehe :)
Also I'm of the opinion that this man definitely has a breeding kink so if that's something you would write, I'd be really happy about it ^^
Have nice day :)))
OHHH FUCK YEAH DADDY HALSIN ‼️‼️
but no seriously he’s such a big sweetie pie I love him sm
Warning 18+ minors please don't interact!
Includes breeding kink and biting and soft horny Halsin
Nature’s embrace: Halsin x reader
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After you finally arrive to baulder’s Gate your next mission is the most important one yet! It’s time to go find a nice spot to set up camp. Exhausted and tired of walking Astarion begs you to take a break! Stay at a tavern for a bit! Stay under some shady buildings! Hells under some trees maybe! Point is he’s done for the day and is begging you along with the rest of the group to agree with him for break. In which you all decide to rent out a room for a couple nights in the Elfsong tavern.
After unpacking and changing out of your armor into more casual clothes your realized how starved you were after such a long journey here. Little did you sense the tall rugged elf was beside you.
“Hungry aren’t you?” He says grabbing both your shoulders in an attempt to scare you.
You let out a shriek and push him away from you unaware of who it truly was.
“GAH HALSIN- you can’t do that to people!” You huffed
“I’m sorry little dove, I couldn't resist, and I overheard the growl of your stomach. It seems you're in need of your next meal. Would you care to join me downstairs? I wouldn't mind covering the expenses, of course."
“Oh? Sure that sounds great thank you! I’m starving! I need to get my hands on something to eat soon or I’ll go crazy” You said slightly daydreaming of all the tasty food you smelled walking past the kitchen to the rooms upstair.
“Me too” Halsin whispered under his breath as his eyes traced the outline of your body.
Your cheeks blushed as you overheard this but since he wanted to be quite the jokester earlier you decided to pay him back~
“What was that? You said as you looked up at him purposely with big doe eyes
“"Oh, uh, me too. I find myself quite starved. To uphold our strengths, we should venture forth and procure something to eat, don't you think?” He said with a hint of panic in his voice
He lets out a small sigh “Let us be on our way”
The two of you head down stairs and sit down at the bar table. You order a bowl of mushroom stew with a wine to complement the mushrooms undertones. Halsin unsurprisingly orders a large juicy steak with a heaping pile of steamed vegetables on the side. Along with you he decides to order a glass of wine. Enjoying each others company you finish your dinner together and decide to head back upstairs. However almost everyone was already asleep in their sections of the floor.
“Ahhh it is getting late little dove, you should go and get some rest. We can always chat more some other time.”
You would be foolish to deny the small trace of sadness that lurched in your heart as he spoke. Unfortunately, your eyes held a bit of sadness that the old Druid could easily detect.
“Oh dove but please don’t worry, I promise we can spend more time together just the two of us eventually if that’s something you’d enjoy?”
You look up at him and give him a small smile and nod.
“Yes I would love that, your company is more than wanted.”
He smirks a little and smiles back. The two of you walk back upstairs to call it a night after enjoying your evening together. Finally, in the comfort of your bed, you slowly drift off to sleep... That is until the middle of the night when you wake up, startled by the sound of commotion near one of the beds beside you. You open you eyes to see Halsin getting ready to leave to who knows where.
“Halsin?….” You whisper at him
“Oh no.” He clears his throat
“My sincerest apologies, I did not mean to wake you from your slumber.”
You get up and sit towards the edge of the bed, you’re a bit groggy still but you decide to ignore it worried your companion is in trouble.
“What is it? Is something wrong? Why are you up so late? You asked in a hushed whisper as you turn on a dim light next to you.
As you look at him, the tall elf blushes, realizing his problem is now more obvious to you. You slowly looked down to see a large tent in his pants. How his crotch looked painfully erect it was almost begging to be attended to.
“Ah… I see…”
“I’m so sorry- it’s just the city is so stressful and I’m having trouble adjusting… not to mention how you-..” He stops talking and swallows a bit of fear as he realizes he just mentioned you.
“How I?” you blush a bit already knowing what he means. Unsurprising enough, Halsin and you have always had a habbit of giving each other bedroom eyes from time to time. You've always noticed how often he’d look at you, especially how his eyes would stare at your ass and thighs. However you both never really acted on anything, you were always too busy on the mission at hand….that is until now.
He sighs “Please you tease me enough as is…. The way your hips sway as you walk… your deep and longing stares….it all drives me mad.”
He turns away from you and says, “I never wanted to do or say something because I thought the timing was always off... And I understand if you wish to ignore me now. I am sorry for disturbing your rest.”
You get up from your bed and hug him from behind.
“Halsin… please don't leave, I would love to be able to spend the night with you… if you’d allow me?”
He chuckles “If i’d allow you?”
He grabs you by the wrist and twirls you to face him. Then he quickly picks you up carries you on one of his shoulders.
“I hope this will suffice as an answer.” He says with a light growl
He takes you to more secluded part of the floor away from any of your companions. He carefully plops you onto a large bed and begins undressing himself. When he’s finished he carefully picks you up yet again and plops you down on his lap.
He looks deeply into your eyes as his hands graze the first button on your shirt. You carefully nod and take a deep breath as he takes no time to undo all the buttons of your shirt. Luckily for Halsin you typically always sleep in your dress shirt and nothing else.
His eyes lit up as he saw the perkiness of your breast appear from underneath your shirt. Without wasting time he takes one into his hand and plays with it while taking the other one into his mouth. He swirls his tongue over your sensitive nibble slightly grazing it with his teeth. This earns a slight low moan from you as you wrap your arms around his shoulder.
He releases your breast from his mouth and kisses you deeply and hungrily. He grabs you by the hips and ass and slowly begins to move you across his large muscular thigh.
“Ha-… halsin.. please I need more,” you say as you grind needily on his thigh.
“You’re not ready, I don’t want to hurt you little dove” he says while kissing your cheek
He then slowly moves you off his thigh just enough for him to stick two fingers inside you. You gasp and hold onto him tighter as he slowly pumps his fingers into your soaking wet cunt.
He uses his other hands to spin small light circles around your clint and begins to speed up his fingers as he continues to pump them inside of you. By now yours seeing stars as you tilt your head back breathing deeply as you feel the druids fingers deep inside you. He can tell you’re close by the way you begin to tense up around him. He curls his fingers making sure to rub you sweet spot of yours to allow him to hear the wonder sounds you make as you come undone around his fingers.
You take a deep shaky breath and looked back into his eyes.
Gods. He thinks to himself, he could have easily finished just watching you come undone by just his fingers alone.
He flips the two of you over so that you’re now underneath him. You moan as you feel his tip rub against your hole.
“Are you ready? I don’t want to hurt you.” He says attempting to suppress how needy he truly is.
“Oh god yes, please hurry! We’ve both waited long enough.” You begged
He carefully slides in slowly so you can take your time adjusting around him. With a small hiss, he bottoms out and is completely inside you. He pauses for a moment kissing your forehead before he slowly begins to move. A slow yet deep pace was set as the druid gripped your hips hard as to not lose control.
You bite his neck in order to keep quiet, yes your other companions are sound asleep and unable to see the sinful acts that are taking place however you still attempt to keep quiet. The sound of skin slapping slowly starts to get louder as Halsin begins to speed up. You look up and make eye contact with him, his eyes are glowing a beautiful shade of gold.
“You drive me wild little dove…. I want to fill you up so badly.” Halsin grunts as he continues to pound deep into you.
“I want to see you squirm underneath me full of my cum…. I want…. Nothing more than to see that.” He huffs and growls out the last part.
“Fuck Halsin… I need you, I need to feel all of you, I need to be filled with you.” You say in between gasps
You’re both extremely close, he grunts as he feels how you quiver and shake around his angry and sensitive cock. He grips your hips tighter and begins to pick up the pace, lifting one of you legs up in the process. You let out a whine as you feel yourself getting closer and closer. Then suddenly a heavy feeling of pleasure consumes your body. You shake and grip his body as he continues to pound his way through your orgasm. When a deep and heavy grunt he finished deep within your cunt, making sure to get every drop deep within you. He pulls out and collapses next to your exhausted figure.
He pulls you in tightly to his chest and kisses your forehead before gently rubbing circles on your back. You slowly drift off to sleep as you hear him quietly say
“Goodnight my little dove”
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HOLY FUCK I ACTUALLY FINISHED THIS
like always I did not proof read 👆but I still hope you enjoy, sorry if this was a little rough it’s my first time writing smut.
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jksprincess10 · 2 months
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Down by the river || Halsin x f!reader
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A/N: This is my first time writing for this fandom and this character, I hope my numerous hours spent in BG3 shows haha. Thank you to @perotovar for the title.
CW: race of the reader unspecified, but she is smaller than Halsin (the man is 7 feet tall), wet Halsin is a warning in itself, oral and fingering (f receiving), innocentish reader, multiple orgasms, Halsin has a hugeeeee cock, unprotected p in v, good old pulling out method (please don't), pet names (my heart, etc.)
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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You didn't mean to spy on him.
You had simply intended to find a quiet spot to bathe. Alas - it was already taken. You hid between branches as you admired him.
Halsin looked like he belonged here - strong body coming out of the water like a siren. His arms, strong with thick muscles, strained as he washed his hair - hair that was untied, freely moving against the wind. The water started just under his navel, a line of hair trailing down, the rest of him hidden in the soft waves.
You had intended to go back. But when you moved, a branch cracked beneath your foot. The large elf looked in direction of the noise, aware and careful of any dangers awaiting him.
But it was just you. You came out, eyes closed, even though his naked form was burned behind your eyelids.
"Apologies. I did not know this spot was already taken."
"Ah, thank Silvanus it is you. Why don't you join me?"
You took the invitation, wanting to be closer to him. You felt warmer, somehow. But you turned around, and undressed, letting your camp clothes form a pile near Halsin's.
"Beautiful. Just as nature intended." You could hear the grin in his voice, you could feel the warmth of his gaze lingering on your body.
You turned around, shyly, and stepped into the water. It was refreshing, and you tried to forget about Halsin’s eyes on you, your eyes strained to the water moving slowly around your moving body. You could feel goosebumps rising on your skin, and your nipples peaking with interest as you remembered how close Halsin was.
“Now, please, my heart… Do not be shy. I have seen the way you look at me.” You looked up at his face, and you felt your cheeks burn as he flashed you a toothy smile. He approached slowly, like he was trying to tame a scared wild animal. Two of his big fingers rested on your chin so you couldn’t look away, as he looked into your eyes. His were shades of blues and golds. “I contemplate you in the same manner when you are distracted.”
Your heartbeat got faster as your heart threatened to jump out of your chest. “Halsin…” Your hands laid naturally on the expanse of his pectoral muscles, as you got on the tips of your toes to capture his mouth. His free arm encircled your waist, holding you close. His mouth opened to you, and you swallowed him whole, tasting the honey and the fire on his tongue. You felt something big pressing against your stomach between the two of you, and you could only imagine what it was.
“Apologies, I do not mean to get ahead of myself…” Halsin whispered, panting, as he rested his forehead against yours.
“No need to… I like it.”
“You… like it?”
“Take me, Halsin.”
He let out a sound that resembled a growl, before taking you in his arms and lifting you up to bring you to the edge of the water. He laid you on the grass, bare and open for him, as he licked his lips like a predator.
“I beg of you, stop me if I am being too rough.” He pleaded, crawling to you. You watched as droplets of water fell off his body, taking in the view of this man getting on his knees for you.
“I promise.”
One of your hands found his hair, loose, wet and wild, that you held in a ponytail as his scarred lip kissed where your hip bone was located, going down and down until he found your pubic bone. He kissed the skin there, making you whimper and squirm in impatience.
“No one ever….” You admitted, your grip on his hair tightening as he got closer to your wetness. A soft smile traced his lips.
“I promise it will be pleasant for you, my heart.” Halsin’s fingers parted your folds, leaving you exposed to his animalistic gaze. The flat of his tongue licked at the exposed flesh, and already, you felt thunder striking in your veins. His eyes were attached to your face, analyzing every change of expression as he pleasured you selflessly. When he found your clitoris with the tip of his tongue, you gasped and pulled on his hair, making him growl. “There it is.” He whispered against your heat, goosebumps raising on your skin.
“Halsin, please, I beg – ah” Your words were cut off by a long moan as he sucked on your clit. It didn’t take long before you fell apart, tugging on his hair and face. But he did not stop, relishing in your fresh scent. He kept licking with a purpose, as one of his fingers entered your heat. Your walls tightened around him.
“I need to help you, so you can be disposed to take me. Please, settle down.” He took a pause to kiss your thighs and you loosened your legs a bit. “I do not wish to harm you.” You inhaled and exhaled as you took one more of his fingers in, his lips still latched onto your bud of pleasure. When his fingers curled and hit a particularly delightful spot, your body tensed once again as your juices emptied on his fingers. His name was on your lips like a prayer, you had never felt this good. Your hands grabbed on to his face and you brought him to your level, as he pressed his palms on the ground so he wouldn’t crush you beneath his weight.
“Halsin…” You caressed his wet hair with a shy smile. “You are… exquisite. I am yours. Please, take me.” You kissed his scars, his smile lines, the corner of his lips.
“Are you sure? It’s… quite a lot to take in.”
“I trust you.”
Even his hand looked small around his girth as he guided the tip inside of you. You knew it would be as remarkable in size as he was, so you tried not to flinch. Halsin distracted you with soft kisses, his hands helping you wrap your legs around him. Your walls slowly accommodated his size. You were already delirious on pain and pleasure.
“Oak Father preserve me.” He prayed under his breath as he stilled, his soft eyes making sure your expression had no trace of discomfort. He moved his hips slowly, in fact, he barely had to do anything for you to feel all of it. You prayed to your God as your eyes rolled in the back of your head. Between the pressure of not wanting to hurt you from the inside and not to crush you, the large elf had the idea to roll in the grass, so you could lay comfortably on top of him. He was still in control, his hands moving down to your ass as he thrusted his hips upwards, and you met him halfway. Your cries only got louder as he picked up the pace, and you were worried the others would hear you, even if the camp was further in the forest. Your walls tightened around him as you came undone once again. He would not last longer, and he pulled you off as spurts of thick white liquid painted his stomach. You laid beside him on the grass and watched him with a content smile.
“Thank you. It was… most fulfilling.” He said as he pulled his hair back.
You heard familiar voices calling for you from the forest, and you got dressed in a hurry, not wanting to get caught by the others, you would never heat the end of it.
“Maybe… you should go back in the water.” You watched Halsin’s naked form one last time, before running back to the forest.
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dancingbirdie · 6 months
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This request is really out of the blue but, i need I CRAVE i require a fic where tav and astarion finally find a cure for his vampirism (in dnd5 it can actually happen yay!) and he manages to see his reflection again and finally have his natural eye color again (blue bc he's prob a moon elf but I don't mind other colors too). The fangs can stay or not, idc, i just want my boy happy, in love, and cared for. Bonus points if there's cuddles too
OK first of all, thanks for this prompt!! Second, I had to break this up into two parts because I'm afraid of how unwieldy it would get otherwise. So see part 1 below. I'm actively writing part 2 and should have that posted within the next few days. Hope you enjoy!
UPDATE: Chapter 2 available here!
I Promised You (Chapter 1)
Rating: G
Pairing: Astarion x GN!reader
Word Count: 3.1K
Warnings/Tags: mentions of unconsciousness, cheeky banter, domestic life, post-events of BG3, potentially problematic levels of self-sacrifice by reader.
***
“All right. I think you’re ready,” Gale affirmed as he peered over your shoulder, analyzing your hand movements as you practiced the incantation. 
“You think? Shouldn’t we wait until you’re sure?” you replied, heavy skepticism coloring your tone. 
“I can’t give you my complete assurance because you haven’t actually cast the spell,” the wizard sighed. 
The two of you had had this argument many times over the past several months as you studied and practiced. And studied and practiced some more. The conclusion was always the same, but your anxiety always managed to convince you that a different outcome would be had if you just asked him again. 
Conjuration magic was one of the most difficult forms to master. Yes, you had specialized in it during your formative years, under the tutelage of several learned wizards across Faerûn, but this spell was perhaps the pinnacle of feats in conjuration. Only a handful of wizards could perform it. Thankfully Gale was among that number, which is why you had come to him for help.
“As I’ve said, this isn’t a spell you can just cast for practice runs,” he continued. “You have one chance. And if it works, the sheer power of it is undoubtedly going to knock you unconscious.” 
“I know, I know,” you grumbled. “I just… I need to be absolutely perfect. I have to do this. For him.” 
“Have you told him what you’re planning yet?” Gale prodded.
“No. Not yet. I didn’t want to get his hopes up. Or have him tell me how unlikely success will be. Not until I was absolutely sure I could do this.” 
“I see,” the wizard returned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Well, tonight is as good a time to tell him as any. There’s nothing more I can teach you to prepare for this. You know the incantation by heart. You perform the gestures almost through muscle memory now. You’re ready.”
“I’m ready,” you repeated, as if saying the words would will it to be so. 
“Send me a missive if he wants to go through with this. I’ll come to the cottage and oversee the spell’s casting.”
“All right,” you nodded.
“It’s going to work. You have to believe it’s going to work,” Gale encouraged, meeting your eyes with a serious, stern sort of expression.
“It’s going to work,” you agreed. “It’s going to work.” 
***
It was dusk by the time you returned to the cottage. It was a modest home you shared with Astarion, situated just outside the city walls. It had a lovely view of the rolling hills that surrounded Baldur’s Gate, and proximity to the Chionthar River gave the air a refreshing, misty feel. Pastoral communities dotted the countryside with sheep and cattle grazing freely during the day, though they had returned to their stables long before your return.
Astarion was no fan of the bucolic lifestyle, as he was wont to remind you. But you both agreed that this living situation afforded him better meal prospects than the rats, cats and errant stray dogs that dwelled within the city limits. At least this way, he had more fulfilling options for food, since the livestock attracted their fair share of large predators. A mild, perpetual confusion charm that you cast kept the neighbors from questioning why – unlike their peers in neighboring villages and towns – their animals were never plagued by roving bears and panthers. 
Astarion was lounging listlessly in the bay window of the den when you entered your home, one leg dangling off the ledge of his reading nook while he carelessly flipped through a book. Probably one he had pilfered from Gale’s stockpile a few weeks ago, you surmised. There had been an uptick in the wizard’s grumbling about discrepancies in his library catalog of late. 
“Anything interesting?” you asked as you shrugged out of your traveler’s cloak and hung it on the coat rack by the door. 
“Ugh, hardly,” Astarion grouched. “Nothing but debunked theories and philosophies from bloated scholars who died a hundred years ago.”
“You’re going to have to return Gale’s books to him eventually, you know. He’s beginning to realize how many from his library are missing.”
“Haven’t the slightest clue what you’re referring to, darling,” he replied breezily.
“Of course, love,” you chuckled, planting a kiss on his forehead as you passed him by to make your way into the kitchen. 
“Care for a glass of wine?” you called.
“Mm, yes,” Astarion returned. “Red, please, dear.”
Uncorking the bottle and pouring the glasses gave you a brief moment to collect your thoughts. To steel your nerves for the conversation looming before you. Drawing a deep breath in and exhaling it slowly, you made your way back into the den and braced for the inevitable. 
“Darling, do you have a moment?” you asked as you offered Astarion his glass before taking a seat next to him. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”
“Gods, it must be serious,” he teased, straightening from his reclined pose to take the proffered glass and make room for you. “You like you’re about to be ill. Go on then, love, before you faint and spill this vintage all over the floor.”
“It is rather serious, in fact,” you began, clearing your throat that had suddenly become tight with nerves.  “I’ve waited to tell you until now, but I’ve been researching some more difficult conjuration magic with Gale the past few months…”
“Oh?” Astarion prompted as you paused. “For what purpose, darling? I thought you had already mastered the school of conjuration.”
“I have. But this is a more specialized form. More… niche, I guess one might say. And, well…” you trailed off again, hesitant.
“Go on,” he encouraged. 
“I’ve-been-researching-a-spell-that-cures-vampirism-and-I-think-I’ve-found-a-way,” you spat out all at once, the words tumbling into each other like a wagon train gone wild. 
Astarion met your eyes with a blank stare, seemingly forgetting that his one hand had been in the process of lifting the wine glass to his lips. 
“I beg your pardon?” he asked hoarsely.
You coughed to clear your throat. “What I mean to say is: I’ve been working with Gale for months now to learn a spell that can cure your vampirism. He and I believe I’m ready to perform it. If you would allow me to try, that is.”
“If this is your idea of a joke,” he murmured, a slight quiver in his voice. “Then I have to tell you, it’s absolutely not funny at all.”
“It’s not a joke!” you assured. “I swear to you, Astarion. It’s not a joke,” you continued, squeezing one of his hands in yours. 
He nodded absently, his gaze trained on your thumb as it soothed over the knuckles of his fingers.
“H-how?” he whispered finally. “How can you cure it? I’ve read every tome I could get my hands on for over two hundred years. Nothing, nothing, I’ve read has ever offered a solution.”
“Because this is a highly guarded spell. It’s only passed down through oral tradition among wizards who specialize in conjuration magic. Which is why I’ve needed Gale’s help,” you explained. “I broached the topic with him some time ago, told him how we were going to look for some way to cure your vampirism. Being a master of magicks himself, I thought he would be a good source of information for me to begin my research. I wasn’t even aware of the spell until he shared it with me. He’s been teaching me the mechanics of it since then. It’s been a difficult spell to master but–” 
“What’s the cost?” Astarion interjected suddenly, meeting your gaze with a new intensity.
“It will cost you nothing, obviously,” you retorted, disliking where the conversation was heading. 
Astarion huffed through his nose. A caustic, frustrated sort of sound. “Don’t play cute with me, darling. You know what I mean.”
“No. I don’t,” you hedged.
“What will the spell cost you,” he bit out through a clenched jaw. 
You bit your lip, hesitant to reply. Astarion’s gaze never wavered. 
Finally you sighed. Better to reveal the consequences of it all than attempt to hide the downsides from him. Even though they were negligible in your eyes, compared to the wonder that would be returning his elfhood to him, you knew he would resent being told only partial truths. You couldn’t fault him for it. You would feel the same, were the roles reversed. 
“It will permanently weaken me. There’s a small, very small, chance it could kill me if I perform it wrong,” you confessed.
“No,” Astarion responded bluntly, without a hint of hesitation. He rose from the bench and made to leave the room. As if the matter had been settled and it was time to crack on. 
“Wait! What do you mean, ‘no’?” you blurted. Jumping to your feet, you snatched at the sleeve of his nightshirt. 
He turned to peer at you with a haughty gaze, one eyebrow arched delicately. “Exactly that. No. You’re not risking your life on the off chance of this working.”
“But it’s not an off chance. It will work! And the likelihood of me dying is incredibly slim!” you protested.
“But the likelihood of you being ‘permanently weakened’ is essentially certain, yes?” 
You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as it sounds. And besides, I don’t mind. I want to do this, Astarion.”
He scoffed. “Have you gone absolutely mad? ‘It’s not as bad as it sounds.’ Do you even know what will actually happen to you afterwards?” he shot back angrily.
“No,” you admitted, a bit quieter. 
He deliberately widened his eyes at your response, crossing his arms across his chest as if to say See? My point proven. 
“But I know I can handle it! And I love you enough to try!” you retorted.
That appeared to be the wrong choice of words. You realized it immediately as his expression morphed from outright anger to something darker, icier.
“Well then, it seems we’re at an impasse, darling,” he growled. “Because I love you enough not to have you go through with this.” 
You opened your mouth to object once more, but he continued, ignoring you. 
“AND, since it is my body and my life we’re discussing, it means I have the final say on the matter. My answer is no.”
You had anticipated this conversation going many different ways. You thought you had prepared for the most likely scenarios. But, in all your pondering, you hadn’t seriously considered the possibility that Astarion would reject this opportunity outright. 
Your eyes welled with tears. Hot, angry, disconsolate tears. 
“Astarion,” you murmured, desperate. Angry though you both were, you couldn’t resist the urge to curl into his embrace. Gently, you pulled at his arms in an attempt to un-cross them. With a soft sigh, he allowed you to manipulate him so that you were pressed chest to chest. Your arms banded around his waist, locking him against you. Slowly, he raised his arms to mimic your stance, peering down at you.  
“Astarion, my darling, this is your chance. It’s the only chance we’ve found in over two years of searching. I know I can do it. And you can win it all back. I can help you. Let me do this,” you pleaded. 
“Darling, how could I ever ‘win it all back’ when there’s a possibility I could lose you forever? Or that you could be seriously harmed in the process?” he lifted a hand to cup your cheek, smiling sadly. “I would never forgive myself if you were harmed in an attempt to cure me.”
You closed your eyes, tears slipping freely down your cheeks. “Please. I know I can do this. Please let me do this. I want to do this for you.”
“Come, pup, no more tears. I’ve given you my answer,” he murmured, swiping a thumb across your cheekbones to catch each tear.
You opened your eyes to glare at him. “If the roles were reversed, would you want to try this for me?”
“Of course,” Astarion huffed. “But that’s obviously different, I –”
“WHY? Why is it different?” you cried, clutching him. 
“Because you’re worth it!” he implored, arms vibrating as though he were resisting the urge to shake sense into you. “Your soul is worth a thousand of mine! It’s not marred by death and torture and sacrilege. Can’t you see that? Don’t you see?”
“No, I don’t,” you argued obstinately. “Because you are worth it to me. Your soul is priceless to me. I love you. You’re the love of my life.”
Astarion said nothing, just stared at you with sad eyes. You couldn’t tell if his silence meant you were persuading him, but you couldn’t relent without giving at least one more desperate plea. 
“I promised you. Remember? After everything that happened, I promised you we would find a way for you to walk in the sun once more. I didn’t make that promise lightly. I want to do this for you.”
“Darling…” he murmured sadly, shaking his head. 
“Astarion, please,” you beseeched, shifting to clutch his face between both of your palms. “I’m literally begging you to let me try. Gale and I have been practicing for almost a year now. He wouldn’t tell me I was ready unless he was certain. I know I can do this. Please. Let me try.”
“Don’t you have any regard for your own life?” he whispered. “How is it that I’m more concerned for your well being than you are?” 
“Darling, all of us have the slightest potential of dying every single day we continue to breathe. Anything poses some risk to our lives. I’m telling you, the risk of me dying from this is the same as the risk I take casting any other magic.”
“But there’s still a permanent cost to doing this. Have you even asked Gale to elaborate on what that entails?” 
“No,” you admitted a bit sheepishly. “I didn’t really think about it.” 
Astarion rolled his eyes but planted a kiss against your forehead. “You’re ridiculous, you know.”
“I’m sorry that I was so ecstatic about finding a cure that I leapt straight into studying it!” you said defensively, although your tone lacked teeth. 
He chuckled and wrapped you in a tighter embrace, resting his cheek on the top of your head. The two of you stood like that for some time, arms wrapped around each other, lost in thought. 
After a while, Astarion cleared his throat. “I want us to speak to Gale. I want to know the full details, the consequences of a spell like this.”
You jerked your head up in surprise, staring at him with wide, elated eyes. 
“I’m not saying yes,” he clarified, attempting to tamp down your burgeoning excitement. “But I’m willing to hear more about this… possibility.”
A delighted squeal rocketed up your throat. Quick as a flash, you jumped to wrap your legs around his waist. Long used to your ebullient antics, Astarion caught you with a practiced ease. His arms banded under your thighs and across your lower back, squeezing gently. 
“I love you, you daft, feral thing,” he chuckled, nuzzling your cheek. 
***
“I would have gone over this months ago, had you afforded me the opportunity,” Gale had groused upon arriving at the cottage the following evening. The three of you shared a bottle of barrel-aged Callidyren while Astarion peppered the wizard with umpteen questions about the spell’s mechanics. To his credit, Gale managed to assuage Astarion’s concerns. At least for the most part. 
The permanent effects of casting the spell, you both learned, would diminish your inner well of magic, rendering you unable to cast as many spells as you currently could before resting for a longer period of time. Almost as though the cost of performing the spell would revert you back to the strength you had had as an apprentice so many years ago. You would still be powerful, capable of wielding even the most intricate of spells. But your endurance would be shorter, more concentrated. It was a price you were more than willing to pay. Even more so now that you had actually allowed Gale to describe the effects in detail. 
“I still can’t believe you didn’t press for more details,” Astarion grumbled. 
“It didn’t seem important at the time,” you sniffed, waving a hand dismissively. “Still doesn’t, in my opinion.”
“You know, in some schools of thought,” Astarion countered dryly, “people believe the difference between bravery and complete idiocy is so fine a line that it frequently gets crossed.”
“So I’ve heard,” you crooned. “But, alas, I’m nothing if not an incredibly adept fool in love.” 
Gale observed the two of you warily, as if uncertain whether this exchange constituted harmless domestic banter or an undercurrent of severe agitation. 
“Yes, well,” he interrupted awkwardly, “as I said before, you’re as ready as you will ever be to perform this magic. I’ll be here to supervise and intervene, if necessary, though I don’t think it will be.”
“Bully for us. Is there anything else we should be prepared for, if we’re to go through with this?” Astarion snapped. “Sudden onset sliminess? Gills? Frothing at the mouth?”
You winced. He was always his most discourteous self when he was afraid. Gale might not realize it, but you knew him well enough to tell when his rudeness was obfuscation.   
“Ahem,” Gale coughed, clearly affronted by the impertinent question. “No, nothing of that sort. But this spell is incredibly demanding on one’s body. It’s very likely they’ll fall unconscious once it’s been cast. The effect shouldn’t last for more than a few hours. Enough time for a proper rest.”  
“You failed to mention that yesterday,” Astarion said peevishly, glaring at you from across the dining table. 
“Because it’s the equivalent to me needing a good sleep after a tiring day,” you quipped. 
Gale winced. “It’s a bit more serious than that, I’d argue.”
“Thank you,” Astarion intoned. 
“Tsk. An inconvenience at worst. Nothing unmanageable,” you retorted. “So, what say you, darling? Are you willing to give this a try?”
Astarion’s glare shifted between you and Gale, studying you both. 
“And you both swear to me that all information is now disclosed, yes? No partial truths, no hidden side effects?”
“I swear,” the two of you responded in unison. You reached for Astarion’s hand across the table. 
“My darling, this will work. I’m going to be fine. And you’re going to be cured,” you smiled gently. “Please, trust me.”
He squeezed your hand, crimson eyes boring into your own. 
Finally, after a moment, he gave you a terse nod.
“All right. Let’s try,” he agreed.
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elliewritesfantasy · 2 months
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Escape in the Night
A/N: I never thought I would be posting fanfiction on this account. However, Baldur’s Gate has captured my attention and my inspiration for months now. I don’t even know if anyone will see this, but I enjoyed writing it, and that’s all that matters.
Some protective dadstarion for you all. And strong boss Tav. Female Tav x Astarion.
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Snow fell in great white clumps, blanketing the forest in an eerie silence. Cold crept up your fingers, reaching further with every moment that passed. You remained crouched under the boughs of an old maple tree, the bare branches leaning under the weight of the snowfall. You were burdened with your own weight; a greatsword hung between your shoulder blades, a relic of your paladin oath long forgotten among other worries, and a bundle against your chest. It was the one spot of true warmth on this winter night. Your baby. Astarion’s baby.
Armelle.
Boots shifted, crunching snow and dirt.
“Astarion?” His name was barely a puff of air from your mouth.
“I’m here.” He appeared next to you, and knelt. His silver hair shone even on this starless night, a mess of curls barely tamed. His eyes searched your face, his hands clenched around his longbow.
“Where are the vampires?” you asked.
“They’re close. I need to get you out of here.” Astarion placed a hand on your shoulder, guiding you to your feet. “I’ve lost a lot of my vampiric senses, but not all.”
“I wish they would see reason.”
“I know.”
You had found a wish scroll for him long ago, as part of your promise after the defeat of the netherbrain. The wish scroll brought him not only the cure for him vampirism, but the promise of a wide open future free of having to hide in the dark. It brought him hope and the freedom to finally say that he could marry you without feeling like he had trapped you in a vampire’s nest for life. And it had brought him his second-most precious gift of all - the wrapped child you clutched with the strength of a mother’s fierce love.
The vampires didn’t know Astarion was cured. They thought he had sired a dhampir, the offspring of a vampire and a powerful being with hungers rarely fully sated. A dhampir would be an asset to their coven, and they wasted no time in searching you out in the two weeks you have had her. You hadn’t meant to have your baby on the way to Waterdeep for a companions’ reunion. She was early. A surprise. But you were already so far from home, it wasn’t worth it to turn back.
Maybe that was a mistake.
“Y/N.” Astarion broke you from your thoughts. “Waterdeep isn’t far. If you run, you can make it while I hold them off.”
“I can’t leave you.” Your soul burned with your paladin’s oath, and your hands itched to strike the vampires down with all of your holy might.
“Just for a second. I’ll meet you there I promise,” Astarion said. His lips lifted in his slightly crooked smile. “If we can survive the Absolute and the attempted end of the world, we can survive this.”
You steeled your nerves, drinking in his familiar confident expression, though it wavered just a bit as the bundle on your chest let out a small, sleepy whine. “Alright”
“I can smell you. I can smell her.” The crooning voice of the vampire master Kazimir cut through the dampened night. Your heart quickened.
“Run.” Astarion notched an arrow, his breath coming in quick, clouded puffs. “Run!”
You didn’t hesitate. Your boots dug into the snow, into the frozen mud and you sprinted with all of the strength left in your body. The lights of Waterdeep twinkled on the horizon. It wasn’t much farther. You could make it.
“Ah, not so fast.”
You skidded to a stop, your throat lurching with fear. Kazimir stood before you, red eyes shining with glee.
“I can’t let you go, not with that creature you have.”
“She’s not a creature,” you growled. You drew your greatsword.
“Oh, but she is. And what a delicious creature she would be to have. She should be raised by a real vampire, not a pithy elf and a weak spawn.” He drew his own blade, a wicked sharp rapier. “Hand her to me peacefully, and I will let you return to your spawn without fuss.”
“No.” You swung your greatsword in an arc, poised to strike.
“A shame. Then I will have to take her from you.” Kazimir lunged forward, blade catching on the woolen edge of your wrap. You lurched back, narrowly escaping his rapier. You raised your sword, letting the anger in your stomach explode outward, lighting the weapon with a golden light. The vampire hissed and shrunk back instinctually at the light. With a cry, you leaped forward, bringing your sword down in a blazing arc. The vampire recovered just in time, spinning out of the way of your smite, his cloak billowing out behind him. He vanished among the trees, flitting between them like a ghost. You reeled, then recovered, and grounded yourself in the snow. You had to be ready.
Your eyes searched the darkness desperately, your eyes struggling to perceive anything beyond the falling snow.
“Behind you!” Astarion ran from the trees, an arrow whistling through the air. It found its mark in the shoulder of the master vampire. He screamed, turning from you to Astarion.
A blast of blue light blinded you all in an instant. A dimension door appeared just to your left with a familiar hand reaching through it.
“Gale!”
“Come with me,” Gale emerged wholly, his hair whipping in the wind of the portal. “Quickly!”
“But, Astarion-“ you looked back the silver elf now fighting Kazimir with his dagger, locked in an expert hand-to-hand battle.
“You have something more important to think about now, eh?” Gale gestured to you once again. You closed your eyes tight, sheathing your weapon. With one last glance at Astarion, you let Gale pull you through the gate and into the candlelit drawing room of his tower.
Shadowheart was the first to run to you. “Y/N, what happened?”
You couldn’t answer, your body wracked with violent shudders and shakes. Some of it was from the cold, some from the fear that made your very soul twist. Shadowheart wrapped you in a blanket. Through a tendril of consciousness, you managed to pull aside your wrap to check on your baby. You collapsed into a chair at the sight of her, eyes still closed, asleep. Safe.
“I’m going back for him.” Gale began furiously searching for a scroll through the precarious stacks upon his end tables.
Shadowheart laid a hand on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t risk it. What if the vampire comes through this time?”
Gale shook his head. “I can’t leave him to that master. I remember how strong Cazador was.”
“We have to trust him,” Shadowheart argued.
You could only sit, your arms holding your baby to you, her head cradled in your hands. A prayer of safety rang through your mind again and again. You had been a thirty minute run from Waterdeep before, and with the fight, maybe it would take him an hour.
“Please, I need you,” you whispered. Gale and Shadowheart retreated, letting you hold your child and warm by the fire while your brain was wracked with thoughts.
Please. Please.
I should have stayed.
Please.
The door to the drawing room burst open. You ran to it immediately, blood rushing in your ears.
“I’m here.”
“Astarion.”
He was here, his armor streaked bright red with blood. His hair was clumped with gore, and a cut on his cheek shone. He drank your face in hungrily, then reached for the woolen wrap, pushing it aside to reveal the perfect girl curled at your chest, her fine, newborn-soft silver hair glowing in the candlelight. Astarion placed a hand on her head, giving her a soft kiss right above her brow. He pressed his forehead against yours, tucking you both into his chest.
Even years after his cure, the feeling of his body warmth was novel. You soaked it in.
“He’s dead,” Astarion said. He twined a hand through your hair, pressing you into his shoulder. “He will never bother us again.”
“I can’t believe you killed him.” You drew back, studying his face.
Astarion laughed, his brows crinkling. “What, you doubted me? Hero of the world, slayer of the netherbrain?”
“You know it was my sword that landed the final strike,” you teased.
Armelle stirred, drawing Astarion’s attention. Oh, how much he had changed. From only being able to care about his own survival, to dedicating his whole existence to the survival of two others. It scared him more than the impending end of existence did.
“It doesn’t matter anyway.” He traced Armelle’s rounded, flushed cheeks, taking in the hair that matched his own, the nose that matched yours. “I have everything that I need right here.”
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justporo · 5 months
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Laid Out Traps
Astarion has many masterful ways with which he keeps seducing you - traps laid out masterfully for you to fall into. And you are eager to let yourself get dragged under. But this time you're pulling him down with you.
MASTERLIST | AO3
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Author's Note: Well actually I wanted to write something else today, but here we are. Thoughts about how Astarion would continuously work on seducing you, making sure he's always on your mind didn't leave my mind. So enjoy some... not quite smut, but something sensual? Anyways, here goes.
Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: light smut, lots of tension, blood Wordcount: 3,1k ~~~
You were walking through some forestry bits during another day of crossing this godsdamned Mountain Pass. It had barely been half a day but you were already exhausted. The journey just didn't seem to ever get any easier. Hopefully there would a break soon and you'd find some peace to calm your body and sort out your mind a little. Your thoughts had been running rampant for a while now and you were thankful for a moment away from the others when you could just let go a little.
Astarion - and therefore the reason why your mind was so scrambled - walked behind you. And he was also part of the reason why you felt so exhausted. Not only because the two of you had made it a frequent habit now to steal away when the others had gone to rest. But also because no matter how often you had found your way into the vampire’s arms, your thoughts never seemed to stray far from the pale elf. The hunger and need for the other never really sated.
It very much wasn't the kind of thing where the anticipation and the buildup had held all the magic. It hadn’t been merely a fling where the urge was overcome and then matters were dealt with for good.
No, much rather the more often you sought his embrace the more tightly wrapped his hold on your mind was. And you were beginning to feel that it might not even stop with his claim over your body and mind. At some point you would have confess to yourself that the sassy vampire, whose eyes sometimes were universes away with sorrow, had firmly snuck his way into your heart.
And Astarion took every opportunity to seduce you, to lure you in. Wrapping his strings tighter around you.
You were well aware of it.
He'd laid himself out as bait from the very beginning. You had known. At least you had very quickly been sure that he wasn't just after a body to lose himself in. Therefore, his ways were way too elaborate.
And also there were those moments when you were with him when it seemed he wanted to be anywhere but. But his focus always snapped back. Especially when you were trying to address these moments of absence.
Then he'd usually double his efforts, desperately trying to make you forget whatever thoughts had just sprung to your mind.
And unfortunately, he was masterful at that.
A master at deceiving you, luring you in and then keeping you trapped, being an addiction. It would probably not end well for you. Most vices didn't.
But you just couldn't stay away - neither from the way he held you but also from just… him.
A break was announced at some ruins you'd come across. Everyone seemed relieved. You set down your backpack and stretched when you felt a light touch at your back.
You turned to see Astarion who was lightly touching your shoulder. He gave you a knowing smile while his hand was quickly wandering down your arm with his fingertips finding some bare skin as quickly as possible at your wrist. The vampire's red eyes with a barely noticeable lifted eyebrow were an open question - or a promise rather.
His fingers in the meantime had moved to ever so lightly loop around your wrist. Not holding your hand of course, but it felt pretty intimate nonetheless. His lips were slightly parted, the tip of his tongue running over them absent-mindedly.
Your eyes immediately darted to them, then back to his gaze. Astarion's eyes were sparkling now in the midday sunlight and his mouth grew into his signature smirk.
This was exactly how he did it, how he caught you time and again: he made a game out of it, an adventure. Touching you when the others weren’t paying attention, letting his hand linger just long enough for you to feel a little heated, saying something playful that completely caught you off guard, sharing a stolen glance which always was a promise for more, for later.
Once he’d left you a little note in his narrow elegant handwriting with a line of poetry the two of you had once talked about. You still had it neatly tucked away under your armour - close to your heart. Sometimes you took it out to just look at it. Asking yourself how it could be if he always left you notes like that. You were hopelessly lost.
He had a thousand little ways of keeping you on your toes - or on your knees, much more -  and you were so prone to comply.
You were enjoying it, the way he turned it into this back and forth as if you were forbidden lovers: trying to hide away your attraction while finding as many moments to get lost in each other. It made it all the more titillating and intense.
You were absolutely sure the others knew anyway even if it was merely talked about in innuendos. But this didn’t stop Astarion from playing his little games with you. And you really didn’t want him to stop.
And so you also followed your lover this time, coyly throwing a glance over your shoulder to check if one of the other’s might be noticing. Then you let yourself be led around the ruins until you were around a corner of a former building. There was nothing much there but some underbrush and smaller blocks of former buildings.
Astarion had let his hand wander further until it had covered yours completely. And immediately when you had rounded the corner the vampire lifted your hand while he turned to you and with a few rash steps made you walk back until he had you up against the remainder of the wall.
He pressed your joint hands up against the stones next to your head while a predatory but auspicious grin had crept onto Astarion’s face. The vampire lowered his head as his gaze darkened and he took you in - lips, eyes, the hammering pulse at your throat.
His hips were pressing into yours, immobilising you against the stone wall, and the fingers of your joint hands were now laced - his thumb softly caressing yours lovingly despite the pressure he applied to trap you there with him.
The moment he’d pushed you against the wall, your former storming thoughts had been silenced and almost disappeared completely. Now you could only focus on the sensation of his closeness. Your lips were parted in anticipation already, your heart racing, a pleasant kind of tension was forming in your lower stomach.
You too took him in for a long moment, trying to burn this into your mind: the way he looked at you with his unique red eyes - almost from under his eyebrows -, soft lips curled into a cocky smile, the tips of his fangs noticeable, some of his silky white curls falling in his face, the curve of his high cheekbones that became even more noticeable when he slightly turned his head.
Astarion lifted his other hand to your face. He cupped your cheek for a moment, then let the back of his hand lightly stroke down your face. The gesture almost seemed too innocent in contrast to him having you pinned against a wall. Your eyes just widened more at him.
Then finally, his long fingers settled under your chin, his thumb placed on your chin, forcing you softly to tilt your head back while he moved in closer still.
“Shouldn’t you be careful who you follow into the woods?”, he whispered teasingly in a low voice.
His thumb was on your bottom lip of your already open mouth now, stroking over it as you let out a gasp. He was so incredibly close now too. Your hot breath must have moved over his cool skin. There were no thoughts in your head, only the feeling of the vampire being so impossibly and deliciously near - if only he moved like an inch or two closer.
“I wouldn’t want you to get trapped”, Astarion whispered again, drawing out the last word. His thumb tugged your bottom lip down now with quite some pressure before he let it slip back. Another gasp - almost a moan - left your throat.
“Maybe I am already trapped”, you managed to whisper in response. You earned a low chuckle and saw how the vampire’s eyes lit up and his grin grew broader - pronounced canines now fully on display. Your throat was dry, all of your hairs felt like they were standing on end in anticipation and your heart felt like it might give out any second. He slowly closed in on you, pupils dilating even more the closer he came - a hunter closing in on his prey.
And then he finally bridged the remaining gap, pressing his open lips to yours.
You immediately rewarded him with a deep moan. Your free hand was desperately trying to find hold on his armour to pull him even closer while your other was still firmly held in place.
Astarion’s tongue almost immediately slipped into your mouth, searching for dominance you willingly gave him when you welcomed his eager open mouthed kiss.
It wasn’t tender this. It was a powerplay - but it was full of burning hot passion. Fires were set ablaze in your lower body and the earlier tension was now making your whole body hum, sing for being graced with his attention.
The vampire moved so one of his legs pressed firmly between yours, almost forcing you up onto your tiptoes. Being even more immobilised, you were held at his mercy: indeed stuck in his trap - and you liked the place you were in.
The kiss was all tongues and teeth. Heads moving around while your mouths never left each other. Breathy groans and gasps were exchanged while his hand at your chin moved to your throat, fingertips pressing lightly onto your thrumming pulse before they wandered up again to outline your jaw, slightly applying pressure. With that he made your head tilt back even further.
Astarion eagerly claimed your mouth as his while pressing his body against you and you against the stone wall that pleasantly twinged at your back. If he wanted you right here and now there wouldn’t be a moment of hesitation. The water wasn’t even up to your neck anymore, you had well gone under and were happy to let go completely.
But after long moments Astarion withdrew from you. Instantly, you almost slumped down against the wall. Partly because of Astarion not holding you up anymore but mostly because he’d devoured almost everything of you with just a kiss. Knees were wobbly as you tried to catch your breath. Your eyes fell on Astarion who had taken a few steps back and was looking at you. His crimson eyes were wide with arousal, his breath a little ragged too. But he was still very much in control - the chase was only paused, not ended.
“Tonight then?”, he simply asked with an eyebrow jumping up.
This godsdamned bastard - turning you almost into a puddle with some kissing and now this audacity. He’d returned to his familiar stance, not one fucking hair out of place, breath already returning to normal. As much as you enjoyed this all, this game, the teasing, the nightly rewards. The asymmetry was all of a sudden making you mad.
Astarion cocked his head and blinked at you several times, with a sassy expression on his face still awaiting your response. He knew exactly what he’d done to you - smug arsehole.
A thought formed in your mind. You immediately jumped to the execution before you could second guess yourself.
You cocked your head just as he was still doing. Then you started to saunter over to him. Your gaze was locked onto his as you tried to not let your intention show on your face.
For once, just once, did you want to be the one leaving him flustered and in desperate need for more.
Astarion’s smug facial expression shook slightly the closer you came. For a moment you thought you even saw a slither of fear and worry run over his face. But this surely must’ve been an illusion, right?
His eyes became wide and round. Probably unbeknownst to him, but yet another thing that made you fall for his trap harder. Whenever the vulnerable person beneath all the sultry jokes and the perfect mask showed you wanted nothing more but to keep him safe.
But this wasn’t your focus now.
You shortly stopped before him, staring into his open eyes. Then you stepped closer even until you were almost touching him and you could take in his smell again. He gasped silently, all while his gaze never left yours.
And then your hands shot up, grabbing his face, pulling him to you once more in a kiss. You made him do the same thing he’d done with you: with your body pushing him back step by step. Then when Astarion’s boot heel hit a low stone of the ruins, you gave him a little push, so he landed with his butt on the stone.
You immediately followed, pressing your legs to his shins and knees so he wouldn’t have a way to get up - trapping him.
Heat was coursing through your body as you looked down on him now.
Astarion was breathing heavily now through his open mouth. He held your gaze - his expression surprised but not scared. If anything it was dominated by hunger now, demanding to be fed.
And so you did: sitting down on his lap, straddling him with both your thighs firmly pressing around his hips, ripping a low groan from him. Immediately you ground against him, already feeling his hardening arousal.
You grabbed his face with both hands and without hesitation pressed your mouth to his once more. This time you were in charge, your tongue playing with his and exploring his mouth.
Meanwhile Astarion’s hands both moved to cup your behind, squeezing your butt with splayed fingers, earning him your moan.
One of your hands went to the back of Astarion’s head, gripping some of his curls so you could pull back his head some more and shift your weight on his lap. You were leading this, you had him pinned - and you were keen to draw out the moment.
Your other hand caressed his face, fingers spreading, then wandering over one of his pointy ears, softly tugging, caressing and teasing - rewarding you with what could only be called a pleading whimper.
You rolled your hips again while your lips were still eagerly moving on his, not letting up, not giving Astarion a moment where he might take charge again.
Again, you were ready to just go all the way. Strip down bare here and now and just give into the carnal need that threatened to consume you both - but where would be the fun in that? And also you had been taught by a master.
Your last coup was to drag your tongue slowly along Astarion’s teeth. Feeling the sting of the vampire’s sharp fang as you drew your tongue along it.
A coppery taste flooded you for a moment; you’d drawn blood. Good, just as you had intended.
Of course Astarion had also immediately tasted your blood. His grip on you immediately intensified. A low growl rumbled in his chest when your taste hit him.
Your eyes that had been closed for the passionate kiss, flew open when you heard the vampire’s sharp intake of breath. His eyes were open too now and you saw how the black of pupils almost drowned out the red of his irises.
You gasped as you were eye to eye with the predator. Shortly asking yourself if it had been a good idea to wander willingly into his arms - his trap, as he had said before - and offer yourself up so eagerly.
Because this was also when the tides turned again.
One of Astarion’s arms looped around you while his other hand went up to grab your face. He pulled you even closer as he shifted his weight. Your hands slipped from their grip in his curls and went to simply cup his face as the vampire leaned you back.
He held your face in his firm grip as he groaned and deepened the kiss even more, eagerly trying to taste you fully. His tongue ran over yours as he was claiming your mouth once more.
He was leaning forward so much now as he eagerly sucked up every last delicious drop of you that you were arching your back, leaning back into nothing but thin air on his lap. Held in place only by his arm firmly looped around your waist and his hand pressing your face to his.
But soon every last drop of you for that moment had been abundantly tasted and devoured. One carnal desire - if not filled - at least postponed to a later time. Leaving one other still.
The kiss had slowed a bit again. But you still felt Astarion’s and your own arousal pretty evidently. The one tasted pleasure had fueled the other. But you had always only planned to tease him. To give the vampire a taste of his own medicine.
You arched your back once more to press your body against his harder one last time. Meanwhile you dragged his bottom lip between your lips just for a short moment, making the vampire groan and squeeze you against him harder, one of his hands on your butt again.
But then - at the height of your eager teasing - you withdrew. Startling Astarion so much with how you just swiftly got up from his lap that he simply let you go.
His eyes were still wide and he was obviously still feeling the rush of tasting your blood and from the kiss. His chest was lifting time and again as he was obviously desperate to regain composure. Besides surprise, admiration snuck into his gaze and into the smile he offered you now while he leisurely leaned one of his arms on his knees. His white curls were now thoroughly dishevelled as you noticed with satisfaction.
You were very much pleased with yourself, especially since resisting the urge had been no easy feat and you could still feel the need to grab and feel Astarion right this instant. But for once you had turned the tables - having the hunter end up in the prey’s claws just this time.
“Tonight then”, you answered Astarion’s previous question with a smirk. And then you turned and left your catch struggle. To return to it at a later time - and finish the job.
Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess
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luveline · 6 months
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Hi lovely, how are you? Idk if you're doing the blurbs still but if you are, can you do something like Eddie taking care of a hungover reader that just partied to hard with her friends? Or something with hockey! Eddie because I love him and you ❤️
I'm good thanks! I hope this is ok ♡ fem
"Come on, loser. Eat up." 
"Can't eat." You stare up at your friend with pleading eyes. "Don't make me." 
"I'm not gonna make you do anything," Eddie says, sliding a plate of eggs and bacon in front of you at the kitchen table with a shrug. "Feel like shit forever, see if I care." 
You pick up your coffee with shaking hands. "You could stand to be a little nicer to me," you whine lightly, more pleading than annoyed. "I don't feel well and you're supposed to love me." 
You think even a dash of compassion from Eddie could cure you. He's not a mean guy —he's been known to hug you at random moments, or lick your wounds for you when things get tough— he's just having an 'I told you so' moment, of which he's prone. 
"This is your own fault." Eddie fills a glass of water at the sink and puts that next to your plate. "If you're going to drink coffee you need water, too. The coffee will make you feel worse in the long run."
"You're like a drill sergeant." 
He finally breaks, reaching across the table to squeeze your forearm. "I just want you to feel better, you dummy." 
Your eyes dry and your head pounding, you switch from coffee to water if only to see some approval in his gaze as he takes the chair beside yours and starts on his own breakfast. Steam drifts in the air, the greasy smell of bacon tickling your nose. You poke an egg yolk with your fork, grimacing as it breaks. 
"Could I make some toast or something instead?" you ask. You really would like to eat, but the egg and bacon is too heavy. You're afraid you won't be able to keep it down. 
He rolls his eyes. "I'll make you some toast, babe, just drink your water." 
He makes you some toast, plate to his chest so he can eat and watch the bread brown at the same time, eating in that boyish way where he leans down to the fork rather than bringing it up to his mouth. It's his fault you got so drunk, in a roundabout way, though you don't actually think that and you'd never tell him if you did. He was in his stupid elf costume from his favourite book, his hair sleek and out of his face, face painted pale. Will you do my makeup? had started innocuously and ended with his hands on your waist to hold you in place, heart in your throat, pulse a hummingbird under his touch. You had to drink to forget the feeling. To avoid ruining everything. 
He seems to be taking pity on you now, swapping your plate for a new one of toast. He dips down to kiss the top of your head Eddie style, smacking. "You should quit partying so hard." 
"It felt like a good idea at the time." 
"Sweetheart," he says, pausing as you take a bite of your toast like it's his mouth that's full. He sighs and wraps an arm around your shoulders to hug you. "Is it really bad?" 
"I feel dizzy." 
"Eat your toast," he encourages, softer now, not a dummy in sight. "You'll feel better once you've recouped your losses. I'll make you some pedialyte, if you want?" 
"Can't I just have gatorade?" you mumble, mouth full of toast, head full of his naked arm pressing to your collar. 
"Don't want much, do you?"
Still, Eddie hauls you to the couch with a bucket just in case and a promise to return. He drives the two miles there and back it takes to get you gatorade and he doesn't complain about it, just breaks the seal and presses it into your hand. 
It's the most peculiar thing when he sits down next to you and takes your hand. Almost hesitant at first, then like it doesn't mean a thing, he holds your hand for the few hours between breakfast and lunch until you feel better, gatorades drank, and an orange eaten between you. 
"Next year," he says, slinking down into the couch, the smells of lunch cooking on the stove, your hand once again taken and held to his chest, "we should go as a duo costume." 
"Like what?" 
"I don't know. Ferris and Sloane?" 
"No one would ever guess who Sloane was." 
"How about, uh," —he's speaking casually, voice dipped low and rough— "fucking, Baby, from that movie you like? Baby and Tommy." 
"Dirty Dancing? You want to go as Baby and Johnny?" you ask. It's the most coupley couples costume there is. 
"I'd have to cut my hair. I don't think I'm ready for that."
"Did you hit your head while you were out?" you ask. 
"Whatever. You can just go as something lame again." He finger runs down your forearm. "You looked nice, but you could've looked awesome. You could've been Arwen." 
"Oh, I get it now. You want a mental image for the bank." Eddie groans and pulls away from you. "No, it totally makes sense, you've been so lonely ever since Macy cut you off–" 
"Shut up, I cut it off with her." He shakes his head and stands. "You're starting to make me regret it," he warns, though the smile appling his cheeks shows that he's not as serious as he sounds. 
He leaves you there on the couch with that stunning implication, your thoughts racing, and when he comes back it's to act like nothing happened, your lunch nicely plated and an ice cold drink to match. "Try and eat it, okay?" he asks. 
"Sure thing, Dr. Hyde." 
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siopaofrog · 3 months
Text
Sex is a Losing Bet || Astarion x Fem!Reader
warnings: 18+, smut, biting, bottom sub to bottom dom
Tumblr media
“You like me like this, darling?”
The lilt in his voice and the glaze in his eyes caught you off guard. He looked frustrated and desperate beneath you. Drunk on unquenchable lust.
You leaned over him, tugging his bottom lip with your teeth. He smiled lazily, barely revealing a fang.
“I do,” you said, pressing kisses on his cheek. “You know what else I like?”
You slid your clit over his abdomen, slick after royally pounding the pale elf.
Astarion sucked in a breath of air. “Wh-what?”
You smacked his thigh, and he gnashed his teeth together, almost whimpering. “I mean—yes, my queen?”
He could barely form the words. You knew part of him hated it under there, under your body, under your rule. But somehow, in those garnet eyes, brimmed with lust, you saw a bigger part of him that liked it quite a lot.
Gods—that felt really, really fucking good.
Often, you and Astarion spent late nights sneaking into the woods, giggling as you ravaged each other under the stars. Stripping, bathing your bare skin in the moonlight. A nightly ritual you both sought after, day in, day out, and fervently at that.
Only this time, you didn’t expect him to slither beneath you—but he made a bet, and he lost. Terribly. He’d made a hasty promise to let you “have at him” after losing a fight to a demonic squirrel. How he lost is beyond you. But you also lured yourself into the delusion that he did it on purpose.
Either way, you made sure he kept his word.
“I like your fangs,“ you whispered in his ear. “So bite me.”
Something about those two little words sent him into a tizzy of laughter. Pure, high-pitched, glorious laughter. You loved his laugh dearly, but you wouldn’t flatter him now. Not when you finally had him in the palm of your hand. At least, for the moment.
“You are quite adorable,” he said at last, sneering. “But I’m going to have to say no.”
You tilted your head. “No?”
Astarion propped himself up with his forearms, lips nearly brushing yours. “Mm-hm.”
His silver hair stuck to his forehead, sleek with sweat, while his bare chest heaved up and down beneath you. You both were a mess, wet and exhausted, but you found yourself imagining him inside you again. You felt him press into you eagerly.
“Tell me, darling, what will you do?”
“Well…”
Your fingers traced his neck, his pecs, abs, until you felt his cock in your hands.
He grunted softly, beautiful eyes fluttering as you touched him. You pushed his head back down on the grass.
“How about this. You tell me, Astarion.” Your lips grazed the scar on his neck. “After two centuries… don’t you finally want someone to bite you?”
The vampire blinked heavily, then managed to hold your gaze. He smiled crookedly. “Mm. Now you’ve enchanted me.”
“Good,” you murmured, and kissed him. His chin, his jaw, until you found yourself gently nipping at his neck.
And he let you. He sang so sweetly for you, in fact—one hand gripping the nape of your neck, the other clasping your ass, pressing you closer.
“Now, now,” he panted, “while this has been a delicious experience, you should really let me take over—“
You squeezed your thighs, wedging him between you, pressing into his crotch. You stopped, denying him entrance.
He inhaled sharply. “Ah… Did I—eh-hem—maybe I misspoke.”
“Maybe?”
“I-I did. I did. I—”
You rolled into him, but only once. He gripped your hips, trying to implore you. You knew he was getting desperate. You smacked his thigh again.
“Uh-uh-uh,” you tutted. “Now I need a bite. And I need you to play nice.”
He looked at you. Looked galaxies away. Somewhere in your eyes he lost himself, and he bit hard on his own lip.
“I—”
You leaned in, grinded your hips into his, but still didn’t give him enough.
“Yes?” you purred.
“Please… Please,” he said at last, slowly and deliberately. He reached up and pressed his lips to your neck, suckling gently, moaning into your skin. Finally, he sank his teeth in and drew blood. He ran a hand through your hair. Massaging your scalp. This time, a soft moan escaped your own lips.
“Astarion.”
“Yes, my love,” he said, breathless, unable to hold back. He bucked his hips up into yours, grabbing your body with the kind of force you expected from the vampire—now, he wasn’t letting you tease him any longer.
The blood, you realized, did something to him.
He grinned widely and licked his teeth. Lapping you up, relishing your taste.
His eyes glittered. “My turn, sweetheart.”
Astarion ordered you to rock into him, to pull his hair—and, of course, you obliged.
“Yes,” he sang. “Be rough with me. That’s it. Just like that—fuck.”
You couldn’t deny how hot it was. Even beneath you he somehow took over, instructing you to pleasure him and send him into a thousand glorious worlds at once.
“You want me, darling? Hm? You want me to be your good little slut?”
You moved willingly now, moans escaping, completely extracted from the authoritative role you once took on. He lost the bet, you thought ridiculously. Not me.
But the words left your lips all on their own: “Yes, yes. I do. I… I want you to lose yourself in me.”
“Oh,” he purred, breath hitching between thrusts. “Trust… me… I will.”
At that moment, neither of you cared who was on top or bottom, who lost or won the bet—none of that mattered.
You just had to have each other.
But there was one thing he did honor: He didn’t move from his position. He commanded you from the lower decks, allowing you to keep the helm in sight—but it was a mere mirage of captaincy.
“I love you,” he murmured, as your bodies continued colliding, words that seeped through all the other lewd, ungodly sounds. His voice reached a guttural level. “Tell me you do, too. Tell me I’m not just divinely insane.”
Even amidst all the passion, all the pounding, you couldn’t help but feel flushed with surprise.
“You’re insane,” you said, huffing harshly. “You… don’t mean that.”
Something in him switched. He slowed his stride, until you both were stuck heaving and staring at each other. The tension had your head in a scramble. He then reached a hand up to your face, and stroked your cheek with his thumb, gently.
“I say many things I don’t mean, darling.”
Astarion slid his other arm behind you, leading you to rest on his chest. There, he wrapped you up in a tight embrace. “Bets or not, demon squirrel or not, this is one thing I do mean.” He kissed you, smiling.
“Ever so sincerely.”
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