Astarion X Female Tav - Tumblr Posts

Pointy Ears

Summary: You accidentally find just how sensitive Astarion is when it comes to a certain part of his body…

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Sub-ish Astarion. Ear sensitivity. Blood drinking. Fangs. Astarion being a whimpering mess. He's also a big shooter (idk if there is a more accurate terminology in fanfiction haha). Handjob. Cumplay. Praise kink. Edging (if you squint). Nipple play.

Word count: 1.8k

You could feel Astarion was nearly done, as your fingers raked across his scalp and through unruly curls, the warmth of your blood spreading gradually across his skin.

He was comfortably nestled between your legs, occasionally bucking his hips into you as his cock hardened with each passing second.

Even as your vision began to blur, the pleasure vastly overcame the impending sense of dread. After all, he could easily send you over the edge between life and death if he lacked the restraint to stop himself.

Your other hand caressed the lukewarm skin of his arm and traveled up to his neck, where you could feel his throat shift rhythmically under your touch as he downed mouthfuls of your blood.

“Astarion…” you whimpered faintly, as life slipped from you dangerously fast.

He grunted once but didn't budge.

Bringing your hand to his face, you felt a growing wave of panic take over.

He had never gone too far.

But dizziness and chilling shivers quickly enveloped your body, rendering you nearly helpless.

“Astarion…”

He rolled his hips into you but kept his mouth firmly latched onto your neck, his concentration never wavering.

With eyes pressed shut, your fingers reached up until they faintly brushed past the tip of his ear.

And then he instantly froze.

As if stung by some unseen entity, he quickly pulled back from you, wide-eyed and lips stained with blood.

“What's wrong?”

He reached out for the scroll of Lesser Restoration on the bedside table and placed it in your hand before rolling off of you and onto his back.

You uttered quick words and watched as the piece of paper dissolved into thin air, quickly feeling your life force being restored as warmth and vigour sprawled along your body once again.

“Astarion?”

He had his eyes closed shut, and you watched as his hand hurriedly made its way to unlace the front of his trousers, alleviating the constricted erection.

Had you done something wrong?

He didn't seem troubled or uncomfortable, and merely let out a sigh of pure relief as he freed his cock.

“Do that again. Please.”

You arched an eyebrow as you rolled on your side, utterly confused. “Do… what?”

“My ear… touch it…”

Oh?

Your eyes landed on his flushed, pointy ear, and you proceeded to give the sharp edge a tentative caress with the pad of your thumb.

His lips parted with a soft gasp and he arched his back ever so slightly.

This was new.

Your gaze shifted to his lower half, noticing how his hardened cock twitched as you brushed the warm skin of his ear.

Seeing his cock fully hardened and with this faint blush to it thanks to your own blood coursing through his body, never failed to send the most delicious jolts of pleasure between your legs, effectively igniting a gentle throb.

“Does that feel good?” You cooed, staring back at his face again as he let out a few whimpers.

“Ridiculously good.”

That was all the incentive you needed, bringing your forefinger to his ear and giving it a soft squeeze between your thumb.

“Gods…”

This time, he rolled his hips, and you could only stare in complete awe as the first beads of precum began to drip from the tip.

You involuntarily licked your lips and lowered your head to rest on his unmoving bare chest.

He felt cozily warm from having fed on you and couldn't help but to reach down with your other hand, tracing a finger along a single bulging and thick vein that spread along his cock.

Your feather-like touches kept drawing out the most beautiful whimpers and gasps from him.

His mouth watering cock was always so responsive to your touch, that you found yourself grinding your hips instinctively against him.

A needy moan parted your lips slightly at the mesmerising sight of a single string of precum bridging the flushed tip of his cock to his lower abdomen, and beginning to pool on his skin as a few droplets threatened to spill down.

Once again, you ran your finger along the protruding underside of his length, too entranced with how it twitched so eagerly for you.

Unsurprisingly, Astarion reached down with one hand, wanting to wrap his fingers around his length, but you intercepted him halfway through.

“Allow me, lover.” You whispered sweetly, lifting your head to take a look at him.

As expected, he looked positively ethereal; his face tinted with the faintest blush and his half-hooded crimson eyes set on you.

“You don't have to.”

You shifted higher, letting go of his hand, which he dropped to his side, and you leaned in until your lips brushed against the pointy edge of his ear.

“Do you want me to?”

He chuckled lowly. “If I want you to pleasure me? What a silly question, darling.”

You smiled at his bluntness before darting out your tongue to join your fingers.

Another guttural groan escaped his lips, and his eyes fluttered shut once again.

Leaning back, you positioned yourself to sit next to him, wanting to keep your focus on both his cock and ear.

His eyes flew open, and he began to prop himself on one elbow and hand reaching out for your trousers, clearly trying to be the one setting the pace.

But you shoved him back with a chuckle. “Just lay back and allow me to take care of you.”

He arched an elegant brow at you.

He was too used to being the one taking the lead. It was instinctive for him to have control over each other's pleasure.

But you wanted him to lose himself in the moment, not having to concern himself with anything but his own bliss.

“Pretty,” you said truthfully as his eyelids nearly dropped when you brushed a finger along his tip. “So pretty…”

He immediately whimpered, lust-blown eyes never leaving yours. “Yes. Yes, you are.”

Gods…

Astarion was truly a natural at leaving you speechless with his words.

You kept the gentle and unwavering caresses along his sensitive ear.

As you shifted your gaze, you noticed the pool of precum on his lower abdomen already overflowing, droplets rolling down his skin.

Instinctively, you swiped two fingers to collect some of it, and began spreading them along his cock, earning a hiss of approval.

“You delectable little vixen.” He groaned out with a few rolls of his hips.

The swell between your legs throbbed viciously from his praise, and it had you wrapping your fingers around him.

His own wetness aided you in your initial strokes, feeling the bulging veins under your touch caving in momentarily before filling up with your blood once more.

You could get used to having Astarion like this for eternity.

Just too lost in genuine pleasure and lust.

Trusting you to guide him to unheard of heights and fully letting go.

The pace was set.

The perfect balance between steadiness and tightness, and more than enough to have him jerk his hips upwards as he fucked your hand.

You reckoned he wouldn't last long given how his whimpers intensified each time you applied the slightest pressure to the shell of his ear.

Suddenly, he moved one hand to your chest, and you gave him a disapproving pout, not wanting him to take over.

But…

“Let me see them…”

His words came out laced with desire and whimpers, eyes set on your eyes as the hint of a plea made you gasp.

You kept the pace on his cock as his experienced fingers tugged at the lacing of your shirt. He worked his way down agonisingly slow, chills spreading throughout your body as more and more of your skin was exposed to his gaze.

He halted once he found what he was looking for.

With a soft tug, he moved the fabric out of the way, your swaying breasts in full view.

A violent jolt of pleasure nearly has you halt at once, too taken aback by the eroticism of all of it.

“Keep going, darling…” he urged, honey dripping from his words. “You can grip it tighter, can't you?”

Gods above…

He then brushed his thumb across a hardened nipple and your mouth fell open in a strained gasp.

Your breasts moved in unison with the pace on his cock, lewd sounds echoing around the room.

You had to bite down hard on your lip to muffle the moan stuck in your throat.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he tutted disapprovingly, his thumb releasing the trapped lip and moving to press down on your chin to pry your mouth open. “Let me hear those sweet moans.”

It annoyed you how he was so quick to reverse the roles and how easily you fell for his traps.

But you weren't ready to let him win just yet.

"Maybe you shouldn't make such demands when I have you in the palm of my hand - quite literally."

The glaring pun made him scowl.

You offered a devious smile instead.

Then, you increased the pressure on his ear, and the effect nearly had you chuckle viciously at the sight of him immediately crumbling down, back pressed flat against the mattress again.

“Gods!”

The whine of frustration mixed with a moan let you know you were victorious in having him right where you wanted.

His hips snapped more aggressively into you as you squeezed him even tighter.

He was so close.

There was something so incredibly hypnotic about having this man coming undone for you.

Because of you.

You couldn't think of a more effective ego-booster.

So by the time he reached his peak, you could only glare in utmost wonder as you felt his cock twitch violently under your palm as the first spurts of cum shot out, reaching as far as his chest - one even reaching his neck.

Your mouth fell open.

He had balled his fists, gripping the bedsheets so fiercely as he rode out the untameable wave of pleasure. His head was thrown back as he arched and shuddered, profanities spilling from his pretty lips.

And the sound of fabric tearing echoed in the room.

Oh.

You aided his cock as best you could, squeezing the final drops of cum, mesmerised by the amount of thick liquid that now covered him.

Still driven by your own unrequited pleasure, you leaned to swipe your tongue across his nipple, collecting as much as you could.

His hand moved to the back of your head, silently urging you.

It only took a couple of swipes to gather enough cum to pool on your tongue.

Astarion's half-hooded eyes met yours. “Does it taste good?”

With the most sultry look you could conjure, you swung your leg over his torso, effectively straddling him as your mouth hovered over his.

“You tell me.”

He furrowed his brows inquisitively.

And you promptly took his lips in yours, which he eagerly parted. You seized the opportunity to push your tongue against his, allowing the liquid to drip down.

He groaned as he tasted himself on you, deepening the searing kiss, both hands on your hips, grounding you.

Yes.

You could definitely get used to this.

Masterlist

Oral Fixation

Summary: Astarion is quite sure you are going to drive him insane from how adorable and clueless you are when eating those juicy fruits around him... and he just has to do something about it.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Oral fixation. Slight corruption kink. Oral sex (m receiving). Innuendo. Cumplay.

Word count: 2k

Astarion was sure he was going to lose his sanity.

Whether it'd be from the tadpole or you, he wasn't certain yet, but he had a vague idea.

He just couldn't tear his eyes away from your lips as you took a bite from an apple.

With each passing second, he could feel his cock harden more and more.

From the way your eyes closed to the way you hummed when swallowing... it was all driving him closer to the precipice.

But what made him more obsessed than ever was just how adorably clueless you truly were of what you were doing.

As he sat down next to you by the campfire, he could tell you felt totally at ease with him.

You trusted his company and he just couldn't tear himself away from you.

A few droplets of juice began dribbling down your chin and along your neck, and he promptly reached out with his thumb to collect them.

You flinched slightly under his sudden touch and glared at him with a smile. "Oh! Didn't notice you next to me."

Gods.

You were too sweet for your own good.

"Yes, you were distracted keeping that mouth of yours busy," he said so casually that others might have missed the innuendo.

And, in fact, you did.

He adored hurling those at you when you least expected, knowing you missed every single one of them as he kept edging himself.

He then brought his thumb to your lips and you quickly parted them, allowing him to slide it in.

His cock twitched violently and he felt the familiar droplets of precum begin to drip from his tip.

The sight of you sucking gently with an innocent look on your face could easily make him come, so he would need to tread lightly.

"Are you still hungry?" he asked, trying to remain as nonchalant as he possibly could.

Your tongue swirled around his thumb as you nodded.

He pulled himself out of you, much to his disappointment, feeling an intense wave of lust take over him.

As adorable as you looked suckling on his thumb, he wanted your lips around his cock.

He needed to feel your warmth and he felt his cock throb at the thought of you struggling to get past the first few inches.

"Gale found some apples and peaches in a nearby cellar," you chirped happily, smiling widely at him. "Wish he wasn't so tired, so that we could all share."

Astarion wasn't bothered by the wizard's absence.

At all.

In fact, he was more than grateful to have your undivided attention this late at night.

"Well, you are our leader, so it seems only fair that you have the best of the best."

He shifted slightly closer to you, grabbing a peach from the basket on the ground, offering it to you.

You gave him a genuine and heartfelt nod of appreciation, leaning in to sink your teeth into its soft skin.

"Does it taste good?" he cooed, nearly wincing from the unbearable increasing tension inside his trousers.

The ripe fruit nearly melted under your hungry bite, its juices pouring down from the corner of your mouth.

"You should use your tongue more," he suggested.

Your eyes met his and he spotted the usual hint of confusion.

"Look. You are ruining your shirt," he explained, tugging at the now stained fabric that covered her chest. "Your tongue can be helpful, ensuring you can keep it all in," he finished, fearing the implication in his words had been too on the nose.

He had certainly gone too far.

But...

You merely chewed your bite away and nodded with a smile.

And he grew even harder, if that was possible.

Astarion felt like a hypocrite as he could feel his own mess down below, and it would take long for all that precum to seep through the fabric unless he found a way to deal with this.

Suddenly, you took the peach from his hand and took another bite, darting out your tongue to collect the overflowing juices.

"Like this?"

He swallowed, bringing his hand to his waistband, trying to discretely tug at it to alleviate the maddening strain from his cock.

"Almost like that."

You frowned. "Then how?"

You were making this too easy for him.

"I could teach you."

The two of you had been quite intimate in more ways than one before, but it had all been quite chaste.

Still, he was more than content with how things had naturally progressed, even if his body yearned for you to loosen up just a bit more with him.

He wanted to truly show you how much of a devoted lover he could be, and he wanted to teach you how to enjoy every single moment of it, while also giving back.

You sat up straighter, looking eagerly at him. "Then tell me. It shouldn't be that hard, right?"

Oh, it's quite hard, alright, darling...

He felt a few more droplets of precum seeping through the fabric of his underwear.

"I could just show you."

You nodded, waiting.

He rose to his feet and offered you his hand. "Maybe in my tent?"

You joined his side, staring at the basked filled with fruit. "Why not here?"

"It's getting quite late."

You nodded.

The shift in positions had him realise just how much precum he had already leaked for you, his underwear clinging to his strained cock.

"Besides, there are other sweet things for you to taste.

Not only that, but he wasn't about to have you take his cock in your mouth in the middle of the camp, risking getting caught.

No.

He wanted you all to himself.

"Oh. Alright, then," you said with a soft smile.

Gods... he wished he could devour you right there and then and turn that sweet smile into a whimper of pleasure.

He guided you to his tent in silence, occasionally glancing around to ensure no one was going to disturb this.

As you walked inside and he closed the flaps behind him, you turned to glare expectantly at him.

"So...?"

He tugged downwards on your hand.

"You want me on my knees?"

He nodded, desperate to free his aching cock.

"Wait... why?"

As you did what he expected from you, you were then able to eye-level with his crotch, the candles providing enough light source.

And then your eyes widened.

"Oh... oh... you're..." Your voice trailed down, and he nearly moaned from the way you gulped.

"Painfully hard? Yes."

Your eyes didn't move and he took the chance to finally undo the lacing of his trousers, letting out a groan of relief as he freed his cock.

What a complete mess...

He was completely soaked in his own precum, a few drops dangling from the tip before hitting the carpeted floor of his tent.

Your eyes widened again and your lips parted. "I've... never... I've never done this..."

He brought his hand to grip your chin, caressing your jaw with tender fingers.

"Would you like to?"

Shifting closer, Astarion watched as his hard cock hovered over her face.

Your eyes met his. "I don't know what to do."

Astarion was quite positive even your worst attempt would effectively bring him to completion.

As a matter of fact, he was already certain he wasn't going to last long just from how you faintly pouted at him and because he knew you were a perfectionist at heart.

That you would struggle to take his cock, but would be too stubborn not to try.

"I can teach you, darling."

You were burning under his touch, contrasting beautifully with the coldness of his own skin.

He then shifted even closer, and a string of precum dripped onto your lower lip.

You immediately darted your tongue out to swipe across the tender flesh, and he couldn't hold back a low growl.

"Open your mouth for me. Wide."

And you did.

Of course you did.

You were always so eager to learn from him.

You had been appointed to lead the group, but in the privacy of his tent, he was the one leading you.

"Tongue out."

He wrapped his fingers around his cock and gave it a tight squeeze, drawing more droplets of precum from it, so he could have them land on your tongue.

In the back of his mind, he wondered how his cum would taste mixed with the sweetness of your mouth after having indulged in those apples and peaches.

He tugged on your chin and pressed the underside of his cock flat against your tongue. "No teeth."

You immediately nodded, resting your hands on your thighs, waiting for him to make the next move.

He really wasn't going to last long.

But he wanted to at least make it to the back of your throat, if you could even take him that deep without gagging.

Your warmth and wetness welcome the first few inches, and he hissed as your hands flew to his clothed thighs for support.

"Easy now, darling... don't bite off more than you can chew," he tutted, caressing your flushed cheek.

His other hand kept you in place, thumb pressing down on your chin, parting your mouth wider for him.

"You can take more, can't you?"

You nodded, but he could tell you were beginning to struggle slightly, breathing heavily through your nose and eyes wavering.

Astarion took pride in being gentle no matter how badly he wanted to reach his peak.

And you deserved that.

You deserved it all.

And so, he took a moment to let you adjust to his girth all the while trailing soft caresses along your cheeks.

"You are doing so well, my sweet," he cooed, loving the sight of your mouth stuffed with his cock. "Just a bit more..."

It took all of his willpower not to buck his hips as you reflexively swallowed around him, trying to ease him in deeper.

He pulled his shirt up just so he could properly watch you take more of him.

Your fingers gripped him tighter and he kept on showering you with praises, unable to look away as yet another inch of his cock disappeared past your lips.

"You look so beautiful..."

Almost there...

But as he was about to hit that sweet spot at the back of your throat, you began tapping on his leg, and he immediately slid out.

He immediately took your face in both hands. "Are you well?"

You coughed, wiping a few tears away, spit mixed with his precum coating your lips and chin. "You're just... too big..."

Astarion was actually average, but your inexperience was truly endearing, and he would still take that as a compliment.

He brushed his thumbs along your cheeks.

"You are doing amazingly, darling."

You gave him a slight pout. "Let me try again."

Stubborn as always.

He nodded, and you resumed your previous stance.

"I am not lasting long," he warned, wanting to make sure you understood the implications of carrying on. "Do you think you can swallow?"

You looked unsure for a while. "Maybe.... you can just come on my tongue and... I'll slowly swallow?"

His cock twitched at your suggestion and he groaned in approval.

By the time he slid back inside, he could feel his peak approaching more and more rapidly.

He wanted to fuck your mouth so badly, but he knew he had to hold back for your sake. After all, he could always make this a regular occurrence.

And practice makes perfect.

You began to tentatively suck and Astarion nearly burst right there and then.

That innocent suckle tied with your eagerness was a powerful combination, and he no longer cared that others might hear his grunts of pleasure.

"Good girl... you can suck harder if you want to," he encouraged, feeling his eyes nearly dropping shut from the overwhelming sensation.

You hummed around him, pressing the flat of your tongue against the underside of his cock.

And Astarion just lost it.

He barely had time to pull out before the first spurts of thick cum were being squeeze out by his hand.

"Tongue..." he barely managed to say before you promptly spread your lips, tongue fully out as he emptied himself on it.

He fucked his hand a few times as he rode out the blinding wave of pleasure, quite surprised he was able to keep his eyes on you the entire time.

He couldn't remember the last time he had come this much.

You did try your best to keep it all on your tongue, but his cum began to dribble from the sides, down your chin, neck and finally staining your shirt.

As he slowly came down from his high, he quickly unbuttoned your shirt, wanting to see the thick liquid coating the top of your breasts.

What a sight...

He could get hard just from it alone.

As he squeezed the final drops onto your tongue, he saw a single string of cum bridging your lower lip to his tip.

"I do apologise for the obscene amount," he said truthfully.

You merely grinned as you allowed some of it to slide down your throat.

But before you could swallow all of it, he got down on his knees and took your lips in his, wanting to taste your sweetness mixed with him.

You pushed some of it against his own tongue and he eagerly swallowed it, caressing your jaw.

He tasted sweet and salty and he reckoned he could get addicted to this.

When you finally parted from him, your eyes kept that expectant glint on them. "So... how was my tongue?"

He leaned in to press a soft peck the corner of your lips.

"Could use some more work, but the road to Baldur's Gate is long, and I believe we can make the time to practice.

A/N: sorry... got carried away.... haha....

Masterlist

Unexpected

Summary: Astarion has barely ever considered starting a family with you in the old-fashioned way, but an unexpected conversation might just trigger that urge.

Pairing: Astarion x femalex!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Breeding kink. Creampie. P in V sex. Body worship. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Precum.

Word count: 2.2k

As far as Astarion was concerned, babes were merely drool and poop dispensers.  

He could definitely do without having to be around one for more than the strictly necessary.

And today was one of those days.

You had offered to look after one of your friend's toddler, but he had somehow been left on duty as you worked around the kitchen.

Typical.

He glared at the tiny human that stood on his thighs, wobbling dangerously and was only kept upright thanks to his firm hold.

Astarion glanced around to ensure that you weren't nearby before he mischievously bared his fangs at the baby.

He expected fear or a screech.

But no.

She merely glared at him for a brief moment before bursting into a high-pitched laughter that pierced through his ears and made him wince in pain.

Had it not been for his fast reflexes, she would have had her tiny and prying paws inside his mouth as she tried to reach for his fangs.

“No – these are no toy,” he grumbled in utmost annoyance.

You walked into the room, straightening your dress whilst giving him a taunting glare. “Look at you! Bonding.”

He held the babe as far as he could from his face as she giggled enthusiastically, clearly finding in him some amusement.

He scoffed. “Please. Even the Nine Hells can't be as torturous as this.”

Clicking your tongue, you approached to sweep her into your arms, which caused an infernal reaction from her as she broke into a screech that would put a banshee to shame.

“See? She prefers Uncle Astarion.”

He rolled his eyes, returning his focus on the book had been peacefully enjoying before this unfortunate ordeal.

As you managed to quiet her down by shifting her attention to a stuffed owl bear toy, two soft knocks were heard on the front door.

Finally.

You allowed your friend inside who promptly took her babe in her arms.

“Please tell me she behaved,” she said apologetically. “She's teething and her temper can be overbearing at times.”

“It was no bother. She was absolutely delightful and even bonded with Uncle Astarion.”

She chuckled alongside you.

He could feel a frown grow on his face as she turned to him. “How come you two haven't considered having one of your own?”

Astarion's eyes nearly bulged out.

“Oh, it has never crossed our minds, really,” you immediately blurted out, pinching the babe's cheeks affectionately. “We're better off this way.”

Now that set him off.

“Actually, I have considered it.”

Far more often than he dared admitting, but it was not more than wishful thinking.

He was fortunate enough not to worry about unwanted pregnancies, as being a vampire spawn made the feat nigh impossible.

But he still wondered how you'd look carrying his child.

Especially with you being such the motherly type.

His eyes fell to your heaving chest for a moment, and he vaguely imagined how your breasts would swell.

“Oh? You have?” you sounded more surprised than shocked.

Your friend shifted a glance between you and him. “I'm sure Astarion here would warm up to the idea fast – so to speak.”

How he detested puns.

Once she bid her farewell and you parted ways with a gentle kiss to the babe's temple, he found himself content as silence took over.

“You meant that?”

He pressed the book in his hands closed. “Us having a child?”

You nodded.

“I don't see why not.”

You began undoing the laces of your dress as you paced into the room.

“Well, it's not like we can physically do it.”

Astarion stood on his feet, following you closely behind.

“We can.”

Your head turned abruptly to him. “You're just having a laugh, aren't you?”

Astarion had read enough about half-vampires – dhampirs – to know it wasn't as hard to achieve as one might think.

He would just need to be very persistent and be well fed. 

“It is possible.”

You chuckled. “I think we would be on babe number four if it were truly possible.”

As he walked up behind you, he planted a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, moving his masterful fingers down the lacing of your corset.

He adored having you wear the most exquisite clothes he could embroider for you, but he equally adored helping you get undressed.

Just for him.

“But the real question, darling, is… would you want me to?”

As the corset loosened around you, he could see your breasts expand into fullness.

“Want what?”

The chemise underneath hid most of them from sight, but he could see your nipples faintly protruding against the sheet fabric.

He could feel himself already hardening from the topic of the conversation alone.

“Do you want me to breed you?”

His blunt words made you gasp. “You always come inside, Astarion… and nothing happens.”

Was that disappointment he detected in your voice?

Gods above…

That only served to fuel his lust.

You stepped out of your crimson dress and he shifted languidly until he was on his knees in front of you.

“What are you doing?”

He lifted your chemise just above your navel, and trailed soft kisses along your lower abdomen, feeling you occasionally flinching under his cold lips. 

Your fingers tangled in his curls as a soft gasp left your lips. “Astarion?”

He did his best to ignore the ever-growing twitch against his trousers.

“Maybe we should rectify this predicament.”

You ran the pads of your fingers along his scalp in such a loving manner that he found himself humming in approval as his cold lips began to travel downwards.

“And how could you even do such a thing?”

Oh. You still thought he was bullshitting you?

He glared up at you with half-hooded eyes. “Hold on to that pole and place your leg on my shoulder.”

Astarion took pride in being a giving and caring lover who resorted to words laced with sensuality, to get you all worked up for him.

You arched a brow at him, but held onto the iron rod of the bed canopy while lifting your leg and resting it on his shoulder.

From this new angle, he was able to spot a growing damp spot in your underwear that nearly made him salivate.

The fabric clung to your folds, allowing him to spot the outline of your throbbing swell.

It seemed that your body was already getting ready for what was to come.

Hungrily, he leaned forward to place an open-mouthed kiss on the already damp fabric.

You bucked your hips instinctively against him as he teased your folds with his tongue.

He felt the first drops of precum staining his own clothes, and had no choice but to undo the lacing at the front so he could ease the unbearable strain.

The heel of your foot dug into his back as he kept adding more dampness to your underwear with his saliva, enjoying the sight of the outline of your folds.

With one hand firmly closed around his cock, he moved his lips to your inner thigh, earning a groan of protest from you.

He chuckled against your heated skin, squeezing some more precum from his tip, enjoying how it dribbled down his knuckles.

“Stop teasing…” you groaned, softly tugging at his curls.

But Astarion had something else in mind.

“I should be well fed before attempting this, if the words on those books and scrolls are to be trusted.”

A soft whimper spilled from your mouth and you pulled your underwear to the side with a sigh of relief.

But Astarion found no relief in that as he couldn't tear his eyes away from your soaked folds and the swell that peeked between them.

His cock gave him a warning twitch, as more precum dribbled outs from the tip.

You had broken his concentration with a low blow, but he still managed to part his lips, raking his fangs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“You've… never….” you gasped in astonishment as the realisation of his intentions hit you.

“There's a first time for everything, darling.”

Unlike your delectable neck, he had no experience catching your pulse in this area, so he had to drag his lips slowly, in search of that rhythmic pulsing that drove him insane.

“Astarion…” you moaned, rolling your hips.

Once he found what he was looking for, he dragged his tongue along the sweet spot before sinking his fangs into it.

He had anticipated you would squirm under his touch, so he anchored you in place by hooking his arm around your thigh.

Astarion reckoned he would never tire of feeling how hard and warm his cock would get whenever he fed on you, your blood rushing through his body like molten fire. 

As he kept downing your blood and keeping you steady, he began to feel the veins that snaked around his cock bulging and he nearly lost it.

Your fingers were still buried in his hair, tugging firmly as your hips rolled on pure instinct.

Through his bloodlust, he managed to shift his gaze only to be met with strings of your wetness dangling from the entrance.

Gods… you were so ready to be bred.

He could feel your arousal.

He could taste it on his tongue.

His hand was doing an adequate job at giving his now heated cock some relief, but he knew he would only find true solace in being buried deep inside you.

Your blood had begun to spill from the corners of his mouth and he felt it trailing down his chin and neck.

With all the willpower he could muster in that moment of blinding hunger, he managed to tear away from you skin, rising to his feet as your leg dropped from his shoulder only to be caught on his arm, effectively keeping you spread for him.

His cock accidentally brushed against the twin marks on your inner thigh, blood coating the leaking tip of his cock.

He let out a hiss as the warm liquid dribbled down his length, mixing with his precum.

Your hand dropped to the back of his neck and you pulled him into a searing kiss, tasting yourself on his soaked lips.

With ease, he shifted closer until the tip of his cock was nudging at your entrance.

You broke the kiss. “Do you think you drank enough?”

His cock twitched violently from the despair in your words.

“There is only one way to find out, darling.”

You licked your lips, jerking your hips to have his tip slide inside.

Then he felt your hand snake in between your bodies until your fingers were wrapped around his length, giving it a trying squeeze.

“You're so, so hard, Astarion…”

Astarion could get even harder just from your praise.

His cock twitched again and he couldn't stop his hips from bucking, gradually burying himself deep within your warmth.

He sank all the way through, bringing his other hand to close around the one you had around the iron rod of the canopy, desperate for support as he thrusted into you.

Soon enough, you had matched his tempo, moving in unison with him.

From this angle, he could see the faint streaks of blood spread around his cock as it spread your folds, allowing him to see how swollen you were for him.

“So eager to be bred, aren't you?” he said in between groans.

You whimpered in response, unbuttoning the front of your chemise.

Astarion nearly came as your bare breasts came into view, swaying with each thrust. Your nipples had hardened completely and he felt his balls tighten.

“I want to see how big they will get.” he moaned more to himself, knowing he was getting closer and closer to his release.

Your mouth fell open but no words came out.

Instead, he felt you squeeze his cock desperately, drawing a primal growl from deep within him.

He truly wanted to know how bigger your breasts would get from carrying his child.

His balls tightened even harder and he felt the familiar wave of overwhelming release wash over his body.

He somehow managed to keep his gaze on your swaying breasts as he spilled deep inside you, feeling his cum shooting rhythmically inside you.

Desperate to feel your own contractions, he placed his thumb between your folds, circling your swell and slowly but surely driving you over the edge.

“Let go, darling…” he urged desperately, wanting the last drops of his seed to be milked out of him forcefully by your contractions.

As your breath quickened and your arms looped around his neck, he knew you were a goner.

You stilled momentarily, rhythmically contracting around him with a gasp.

He glanced down to see the bulging veins along his cock being squeezed as cum began to spill out around him.

Astarion had no idea how much cum he had spilled inside you, but what he did know was that he would gladly spend it all if it meant getting you pregnant with his child.

As you shuddered against him, he placed a soft kiss to your temple.

“Do you think it was enough?”

He chuckled. “I won't stop until it is.”

Masterlist

Astarion X F!Tav. Mindless Fluff as usual. Post game settings.

Relationship scenario: Missed Birthday. In my HC, elves do not celebrate birthdays; they celebrate Name Day, which occurs about every four years. It's probably some private setting I inhaled during my tabletop days.

another comm <3

Indelible Imprints

Chapter 8

Word Count: 6.9k

Summary:

-Astarion gets carried away and he and Erin have to deal with the aftermath.

Ao3

Previous Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Hi! Here we are, it’s bite night! I’ve been looking forward to this chapter, so I really hope you like it!

P.S. - I edited very lightly so please forgive my grammatical sins. :) <3

Reblogs, comments, and the like are always super appreciated! It means a lot to me to see that people like this story.

Chat with me in the comments! I’m always excited to talk about this game and my favorite vampire. <3

Tag list: @roguishcat @thisisew

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

Astarion

"Ow! Godsdammit, that hurt!"

Astarion put his hand to his head where the lute had hit him. At the sound of his voice Erin gasped.

"Astarion?! I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was yo-"

She paused, stopping herself. "Wait, no. That's dumb. I'm not sorry!" She squinted at him in the darkness. "What the hell are you doing in here?? Turn on my lamp right now!" 

Despite being unable to see, Erin pulled her lute back, holding it like a bludgeoning weapon, and glared at him through the darkness.

Not wanting to be struck again, he quickly muttered, "ignis," and a small flame came to life in the tent.

He was caught. Panicked, he reached through his mind for something, anything to say.

"Darling, I simply came to check on your condition. I wanted to make sure no more wounds had reopened."

Her hands gripped the lute a bit tighter, and the lamplight intensified her glare as she stared at Astarion. 

"Try again. What were you doing hovering over my body in the middle of the night while I slept? You were NOT hovered over my injury."

He held his hands up protectively to shield himself in case she tried swinging the instrument at him again.

“Wait, no! I swear, this is not what it looks like!” Lying about it wouldn’t help him now. “I just needed a little… Well, blood.” He chanced a glance at her past his hands, still in front of him.

Her grip on the lute slackened. She let go with one hand to reach toward him and pushed his hands away from his face and looked at him. 

“What?” She asked, bewildered.

He fought the urge to bring his hands back up to cover his face so he wouldn’t have to look at her.

“Well, I suppose there’s one small detail about me that just hasn’t come up naturally yet. I’m… a vampire.” He breathed out an uneasy laugh, deeply uncomfortable.

“No way,” She whispered. “No way vampires are real.” She paused, thinking hard. “What does that even mean here? You’ve got to be different from the vampires from stories back home. I mean, you can stand in the sun, and you’re definitely not sparkly or anything like that. I guess you’re pale, but not much more than me. Do you have fangs? Can I see them?”

Astarion cleared his throat awkwardly. This was not the response he’d expected. He noticed she’d let go of the lute entirely and took it as a sign that she didn’t intend to whack him with it an again or stake him, at the very least. 

“I’m not sure how to answer your first question. Although the fact that I can stand in the sun is an anomaly gifted by the tadpole. Without it, I’d be cinders. As for your last two questions; Yes, I have fangs. No, you can’t see them.”

“Oh, come on,” Erin whined, “Why not?”

Astarion arched a brow, “Well, to be frank, you’re being a little weird about it.”

She laughed. “I’m weird? You’re the one who tried to snack on me while I slept in the middle of the night, and I’m weird?” 

He frowned. “I mean, a little?”

Exasperated, she shrugged. “Whatever. You don’t have to show me your teeth. I just don’t understand why you didn’t say something sooner.”

She said it as if it would have been the easiest thing in the world to have told her before. As if he wouldn’t have been run out of camp immediately. As if she didn’t see him as some sort of monster.

“What in the nine hells are you talking about?” He laughed bitterly, “At best, I thought you’d turn me away. At worst, I thought you’d drive a stake through my heart. Of course I didn’t say anything. I needed you to trust me.”

She rolled her eyes at him. "So you thought the best time to tell me that you're a vampire and you need blood was right after I got gravely injured and lost a lot of it already? What was your thought process here?” 

Dropping her voice, she started imitating him the way she had in the forest the night before. “Oh darling, you’ve already lost some blood, what's a little more?” Giving him a pointed look, she returned to her normal speaking tone, “Really?" 

“Well, no-” he started, but she cut him off.

"No, wait, that's wrong. Because you weren't even going to tell me any of that or even ask for it! You seriously thought you could bite me while I slept and I wouldn't notice? Are you kidding me?"

He ducked away from her reproach as though she’d hit him again. The lute may have been preferable to the scolding. It wasn’t normal for him to be so sloppy, and she was illuminating just how much the lack of proper feeding had been affecting him in a way that left him feeling embarrassed and raw.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t know what else to do! I’m weak. I haven’t had anything substantial in days.” 

Years, actually.

He continued, “It’s been affecting me, making me slow. Tired. Then you were hurt and there was so much blood, the smell was so strong I couldn’t think clearly. And that’s when I got shot with that damned arrow.”

“You got hurt?”

“I don’t blame you for not noticing. You were preoccupied.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, just with the minor inconvenience of being chewed alive. But I’m so glad you’re not upset I wasn’t paying attention to you in the moment.”

His eyes darkened. “It shouldn’t have happened. If I hadn’t been so weak, it wouldn’t have.”

For a moment, Erin just stared at him, working something out in her head. He wished he could hear her thoughts and briefly considered using the tadpole before deciding he didn’t need to give her another reason to be angry with him.

“You weren’t lying when you said you were hungry last night.” She finally said.

He looked to the ground before answering. “I was starving. I needed to find something to feed on.”

Her brows pushed together, and she looked sad as she watched him. “So you’ve just been struggling this whole time?”

“I wasn’t sure if I could trust you. I needed you to trust me first.” He finally met her eyes. Concern creased his brow, and his eyes looked wide and earnest. “You can, by the way. Trust me, I mean.”

“I do.” She said it so easily, without any hesitation. He searched her face for any indication to the contrary, but couldn’t find any. She looked at him plainly. Honestly.

He risked it. “Do you… think you could trust me a little further? I’d only need a taste, I swear.”

It was quiet for a moment while he watched her think. Desperate, he added, "Perhaps you could consider it your favor for the archery lessons paid!"

Her eyes brightened and she laughed. "You didn't give me a lesson, remember?"

Damn.

"Paid in advance, then." He suggested.

Erin sighed, and he worried she was about to send him away. Instead, she put her hand on his shoulder.

"Stop it. I'm not worried about the favor. I'll help you. Just… don’t take more than you need, okay?”

“Really?” He was elated. He couldn’t believe she’d actually agreed. “I - not one drop more. I promise.”

He reached over her and pulled the lute from her side, setting it back in the corner of the tent. Then he nodded to her bedroll.

“Let’s get a little more comfortable, shall we?”

She nodded slowly and laid back down, pulling her covers up over her body, leaving just her neck and above exposed. “I’m gonna roll over on my side, if that’s okay?”

It was more than okay. This way, he would hardly have to touch her. He simply nodded and she turned. 

He leaned over her once more, reaching out to gently cradle her head and hold her arm. Lowering his head to her neck, he pressed his lips to her skin. He felt her pulse at the juncture between her shoulder and neck and gave it a thankful peck before setting his teeth against the spot. She took a deep breath, and as she let it out, he snapped his jaw shut. After he’d pierced the skin, he relaxed his jaw to gulp down mouthfuls of the blood that poured out. 

It was unbelievable. He’d hardly registered the short gasp she’d let out. When she winced he gripped her tighter; not wanting to waste a single drop. He was so hungry. Nothing he’d had before had tasted even remotely like this. 

How have I lived so long without this?

He drank, and drank, and drank. It felt like what he was supposed to do, the only thing he should have ever been drinking his entire afterlife. He’d never had a choice before, and did that ever make this taste all the sweeter. 

He didn’t even have to steal it. She gave it freely, absolving him of any guilt he might have felt for it. Not that he would have felt much after tasting her. How could he, when she was so delectable? It felt good to drink from her. Why did it feel so damn good? He gulped greedily, wanting more, needing more. He only stopped when he realized he was having to suck much harder than before to pull any blood out of her wound.

He jerked his head back and away from her. She hadn’t been exaggerating before, she was already very pale to begin with, but now she lacked any color whatsoever. The pink flush in her cheeks was gone. Panicked, he focused his hearing on her breath. It was weak, and slow, far too slow. Giving her shoulder a gentle shake, he asked, “Darling? Are you alright?”

She didn’t answer. 

No! Godsdammit, no!

He was panicking. Looking quickly around the tent, he saw a few of the healing potions Shadowheart had left by Erin’s bedroll. They wouldn’t be enough. 

Shit. Shit. Shit!

Then he remembered. After the fight at the grove, the wizard had passed the scrolls around to everyone in the group. 

In case we wind up in a predicament like this again, he’d said, I’ve taken it upon myself to procure scrolls of Revivify for everyone in the group. We got very lucky with our friend, but I shudder to think what might have happened had Shadowheart’s magic been depleted. This way we will all be a little more prepared to help one another.

Giving her one last glance, Astarion snapped up and sprinted as fast as he could to his tent. It wasn’t far, but if the wizard was to be listened to, he didn’t have much time. Throwing the flap up, he’d reached inside and grabbed the half-unfurled scroll from the corner he’d tossed it. 

He hadn’t considered he’d actually use it when the wizard handed it to him. He merely scoffed and tossed it aside. 

No one had ever saved him, why should he be expected to do it for anyone else? That wasn’t true anymore, though. 

Erin had saved him. She could have screamed and alerted the whole camp, could have had them kill him, could have done it herself. She could have refused him and sent him away. But she didn’t do any of that. Instead, she trusted him. Let him drink from her. 

And he killed her. 

She saved him and he killed her. 

Now, he was racing to her side to save her.

He ducked under the flap of her tent again and sat beside her. He didn’t hear anything. No breath, no heartbeat.

No, no, no!

He unfurled the scroll and frantically recited the words. The scroll illuminated, then fell away from his hands, disintegrating into nothing. He watched her closely for what felt like far too long.

Then she heaved a stuttering breath. 

He quickly snatched one of the healing potions at her side and unstoppered it, shoving it in her mouth and sealing it with his hand so it didn’t spill out. 

“Drink, you must drink it!”

Tears flowed from the corners of her eyes and she gulped the liquid down. When the bottle emptied, he pulled it from her mouth and reached for the next. She let out sob, her breath coming quick and uneven. The tears didn’t stop coming. He brought the next bottle to her mouth and she yanked it out of his hands.

“NO!” She shouted, pushing him away.

“Darling, please. You need more to recover.” He pleaded.

“And whose fault is that?!” She shouted again, and when he tried to motion for her to lower her voice, she looked as though she might combust. “Don’t you dare shush me right now! Get out! Right now!” 

This was it. The response he’d been expecting from the start. She was sending him away. And he deserved it.

She continued, “I don’t want you to touch or be near me right now.”

Right now?

She drank the potion he’d handed her in one big gulp, then tossed it at him. “Go get a few more of these potions and leave them outside my tent. We’ll talk in the morning.”

He couldn’t understand. “In the-”

“Please, Astarion. I’m too angry with you right now. Just go away so I can sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

Relief flooded him. She wasn’t sending him away. He had a little more time.

“I - Of course.” He backed away from her and out of the tent. He went back to his own and retrieved the potions she’d asked for and left them outside her tent as she’d instructed. He cleared his throat before leaving, so she’d know he’d left them there, then went back to his tent. 

He didn’t know how long it would take for him to slip into a trance, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep the thought of tasting her blood from his thoughts. Or the guilt that followed.

***

Erin

When she woke the next morning, Erin was surprised to feel… fine? Physically, at least. After everything from the day before, she’d expected to be in unbearable pain that morning. 

If the aftermath of having had a wolf chomp down on her abdomen wasn’t enough to cause some discomfort the next day, she’d thought maybe dying and being brought back to life would have some more obvious repercussions. She thought maybe she’d wake up to find herself dry and shriveled up like a raisin after what had happened. He just drank so much, she thought there’d be nothing left. 

What surprised her most though, was how it hadn’t even hurt. Sure, there had been the initial sting of his bite that made her wince, but after that there was no pain. Just a slight tingle and a sense of weightlessness that slowly spread through her body. It may have been because she’d been tired and had already lost a lot of blood, but it had been an oddly soothing sensation. Until she woke up and realized he’d killed her. 

He killed her.

She died.

Erin didn’t know how to feel. There was an ache deep within her and a buzzing anxiety tensing her shoulders and neck. She had been worried she’d die here, but she never allowed herself long to dwell on the fear. If she’d spent more than a moment considering her own mortality in this horrible, dangerous place, she’d be too inhibited by fear to function. So she avoided thinking about it too much.

She never thought a friend would kill her. 

Is he my friend? She wondered. She had thought so. At least, she thought they were getting there. She wanted to be his friend. He seemed like he needed one. 

Her heart had ached when he’d told her how he’d been starving. There was a sadness to him in that moment that made her believe he’d been suffering much worse than just hunger. She wondered what had happened to him, that made him so afraid. 

He seemed so confident before, if a little showy. She hadn’t realized until last night how much of an act it was. How could such a beautiful person with supernatural powers have anything to be afraid of? Wasn’t he the one for others to fear?

He killed her. She should be afraid of him.

He also brought her back to life. Saved her from what he did. There was panic and worry in his eyes when he’d shoved the potion in her mouth. He hadn’t meant to kill her. She couldn’t find it in herself to be afraid of him anymore. 

They’d talked with each other enough over the past few days that she knew he wasn’t just some monster. He may not be the most honest or kind person she’d ever met, but he was a person. When he wasn’t being an ass, he could be funny and companionable. In those moments, she enjoyed his company. He was her friend. Whether he thought so or not.

She needed to talk to him. As she started to sit up, pushing the covers off her body, she heard someone step just outside her tent. A moment passed before she heard a little, “ahem” from the other side of the flap.

“I need to check on your wounds. Are you awake yet?” Shadowheart asked, although she didn’t wait for Erin’s response to push open the flap and let herself in. She looked down at Erin with a small smile. “You’re up. Good.”

Shadowheart sat beside her and pointed to Erin’s sleep-shirt. “Would you lift that a bit?” It was the university tee she’d been wearing when they met. Someone had washed it for her when Shadowheart was tending to her yesterday. “I want to see how it’s healed. I was hoping there wouldn’t be too much scar tissue, as it could cause you discomfort in the future.”

Erin obeyed and lifted the hem of her shirt up to her ribs. Shadowheart knelt closer to observe the remaining marks and gingerly touched them at different spots, asking if there was any pain or tightness when she applied pressure. It reminded Erin of going to the doctor’s office. For being occasionally curt, Shadowheart had a pretty decent bedside manner. 

“Okay, that’s not too bad. Although I had expected you’d have healed more by now. Did you sleep well last night?” Shadowheart asked, inspecting her face for signs of weariness.

“Uh,” Erin shrugged and tried to think of what to say. 

Astarion had been too afraid to tell them he was a vampire, she didn’t feel like she should share it now. They hadn’t even had a chance to talk about it yet. It should be up to him. She looked back at Shadowheart.

“I guess I slept as well as I could have after everything. If it helps, nothing hurts. I don’t even have a headache.” It wasn’t a lie. Erin was still surprised about the lack of pain.

Shadowheart nodded. “Well, I suppose it’s to be expected. We’re not exactly laying our heads down on feather beds at night. I probably should have tried to find you some more pillows to help you rest yesterday.” She glanced over at Erin’s single pillow at the top of her bedroll. 

“Wait,” she squinted at the pillow. “What’s that? Did one of your wounds open in the night? There wasn’t blood there when I left you.” She looked back at Erin, concerned. “I don’t remember you having an injury above your middle.” She started to reach out to inspect Erin’s upper body for the injury.

Panicked, Erin moved to her side to hide Astarion’s bite mark from her view. Unfortunately, she had forgotten where he’d bitten her and turned the wrong side away from Shadowheart. The bite mark was on full display, and the few potions Astarion had given her were not enough to completely heal the bruising there. He’d taken too much of her blood.

Shadowheart grabbed Erin’s shoulders, yanking her closer so she could inspect the wound.

“This was not here yesterday.” Her eyes flitted back up to Erin’s, appraising. “Why are you hiding it?”

Erin tried to back away, but Shadowheart kept her grip on her shoulders, preventing her from moving as she looked at the ground nervously. She was considering feigning ignorance or making something up when a familiar voice called from outside the tent.

“Good morning, Darling!” Astarion ducked his head into the tent, holding the flap up with his arm. “How are you feeling?”

Relieved to have a distraction from Shadowheart’s questioning, Erin relaxed a little.

“I’m okay. Just a bit woozy.”

Shadowheart cut in. “You didn’t tell me you were feeling woozy. Is it that wound on your neck?”

Erin paled at the mention of the bite in front of Astarion and before she could help it, she reflexively looked at him. His eyes were on the wound, and they widened for just a moment before his expression became passive and unreadable. It seemed as if he’d stopped breathing, and his entire body looked too stiff.

Shadowheart caught it. She followed Erin’s gaze to Astarion.

“What’s going on?” She glared at him. “Did you do this?”

Before he could say anything, the words flooded out of Erin’s mouth.

“He didn’t mean to! It’s okay, Shadowheart, it was an accident, he just got carried away but he brought me back so it’s—

Shadowheart cut her off, whipping her head around to look at Erin. “What do you mean, he ‘brought you back?’” Her head snapped back to him, “What did you do, vampire?” She practically spat the last word.

He held his arms out in front of himself protectively. “Well, hold on!” He started.

Erin cut in again. “He didn’t do anything that he hasn’t already fixed, or that I didn’t give him permission to do. Please, let it go. I’m fine, okay?”

Shadowheart dropped her glare and looked at Erin. “So. we have a vampire in camp. I guess that explains the pallor. You’re okay with this?” She asked.

Erin nodded.

“Well… I suppose we’re all monsters-in-the-making here, with the tadpoles and all.” She gave Astarion a pointed look. “I don’t want to see another bite on her body. She almost die-” she stopped herself, apparently realizing Erin actually did die last night. She frowned at him and continued. “She’s still healing.”

“Of course,” was all he said as his gaze slid from Shadowheart back to Erin. 

Shadowheart looked between the two of them and sighed, crawling up to leave. “She needs to rest.”

Once she was out of the tent, Erin looked back up at Astarion.

“We should talk,” she said. “But I should get dressed first. Can I meet you outside your tent?”

His eyes lingered for a while on her neck, where he’d bitten her. Finally, he nodded, then turned and left the tent.

Erin sighed and lied back down in her bedroll. She would get dressed soon, but for now, she just needed a moment.

***

Worried about leaving Astarion by himself too long without talking, she didn’t take too much time to herself. Erin was starting to realize that it was probably best not to leave him to his own devices with any uncertainties hanging in the air between them. He was an impulsive man.

Someone had set some clean folded clothes in the corner of her tent for her. Probably whoever had cleaned her sleep shirt. Erin picked them up and changed, making a note to herself to ask who had done it so she could thank them. 

She reached into her duffel and pulled out her toothbrush and toothpaste. It was a new tube, and she had been using it very sparingly, hoping it would last her until she found a way home. She squeezed a small dot of the stuff on her brush and shoved it in her mouth, idly wondering what the others’ oral hygiene routine was like as she brushed. 

Astarion’s teeth came to mind. They were quite pretty, what she had seen of them. Clean and fairly white. Could vampire fangs get cavities? What if they did? Would they pull them out and wait for a new one to pop out? Did they floss? 

Imagining Astarion attempting to floss his fangs only for them to snap against the sharp canines every time made her giggle to herself. 

She spit into the bowl next to her bedroll that Shadowheart had used to clean her wounds last night and set her brush on the cleanest spot she could find on her bedroll so it could air out before she put it back in her duffel later.

She dug around in her bag for a few more things and set them in front of her. First, she picked up the deodorant and reached it up under her shirt to swipe under her arms. She was going to feel absolutely disgusting once her toiletries ran out. Still, she’d use them as long as she could. 

Maybe there was an alternative she could use here. So far, none of the others seemed to have a bad case of B.O. outside of a long day spent being active in layers of leather and armor. 

In fact, the others smelled quite nice when they were in camp. They had to be using some kind of perfumes or oils. Shadowheart smelled sweet and spicy, she had a smoky floral scent to her. Gale smelled like books and leather, cozy and clean. 

She had almost immediately noticed the way Astarion had smelled, probably because he’d kept close to her from the moment he’d joined their group. He smelled fresh, almost like citrus. She didn’t really know what it was, but she liked it. 

It wasn’t until last night that she’d noticed another layer to it. Underneath the initial citrusy freshness was… petrichor. Something like damp soil and leaves on a crisp autumn day. It brought her comfort when he hovered over her before the bite. 

Thinking about the bite reminded her of what else she’d pulled out of her bag. She tossed the deodorant back into the duffel and picked up her makeup bag. It was small, and didn’t have a lot inside, but there was a compact mirror and some foundation she could use. She pulled them out of the small bag and opened the compact to inspect the marks on her neck. 

It wasn’t very pretty. However, she could see how Shadowheart might have missed it, being more focused on her abdomen when she’d come in. The mark was just above the crook of her neck and could easily be obscured if she left her hair down. 

Still, the bruising around it was ugly, and she was surprised it didn’t hurt. She gingerly touched it with her fingertips, testing to see if putting something there would be painful. 

After a moment’s inspection, she made up her mind and dabbed a little foundation on the cushion from her compact and gently applied it to the bruise. She didn’t use much, just enough to lighten the bruise and hopefully keep others from noticing. 

Once she was satisfied with her blending, she brushed her hair and separated two sections at the top of her head to tie off into buns and hide a bit of the greasiness in her hair, letting the rest fall loose and obscure her neck a bit.

She looked back into the compact for another moment. 

That’s probably about as good as it’s gonna get here, she thought.

She left her tent and headed over to Astarion’s, only to see the others heading there as well. 

Rushing to meet him before the others got there, Erin greeted the group.

“Morning, guys! Did… Shadowheart talk to you all?”

Of course she had. 

The group started expressing their feelings about vampires, Gale explicitly stating he’d tasted awful to Astarion, and for a moment Erin wondered how he’d know what his own blood tasted like. She snapped out of the thought and addressed the group. 

“You guys need to calm down. I trust him. Besides, he won’t feed off anyone else. Just me. Right, Astarion?”

Astarion had been standing there wide-eyed, like a deer caught in headlights, until she’d spoken up. He gave her a confused look. She raised her brows and slightly gestured to the group with her head, trying to get him to say something to reassure them. He got the idea and slowly started to speak.

“Erm, yes. Right. I’ll keep my fangs to myself.”

Erin let out a breath of relief. “See? It’s fine. I’m fine. We’re fine. We’re all fine. Nothing else to see here.” 

The group eyed him warily, but conceded. They each gave him their own unique warning against biting them, which Erin felt was a little uncalled for after the matter was settled, and wandered off to their own chores for the morning while Gale set to making breakfast.

“Crazy start to the morning, huh?” She chuckled, looking back at Astarion.

He eyed her suspiciously. “You seem… better. Since last night.”

Right. That.

She sighed. “Yeah. Have anything you’d like to say about that?”

He winced as though she’d hit him. She remembered that she had hit him and fought the smile that crept up her lips at the ridiculous memory. Not a bruise on his face, though. She guessed it was a perk of vampirism.

He studied her face for a moment before responding.

Warily, he asked her, “Do you?” 

He asked the question with so much hesitance, and looked as though he was bracing himself for her to say something devastating. She remembered how panicked he’d looked shoving the potion in her mouth the night before and thought he must have been feeling some sort of remorse now as well. 

“I’m not going to lie and say no harm done or anything. But. I’m not going to hold it against to you. It was an accident. We’re good.” She added, “It was an accident, right?”

His answer was immediate. “Of course it was an accident! You don’t think I’d have done it on purpose just to bring you back so you could stake me for it?”

She raised her hands in a placating gesture. “I’m just checking! Anyway, you don’t have to worry about me staking you. Like I said, we’re good.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “Really? Just like that?”

“What were you expecting?”

“You were quite upset last night… I thought you might kick me out of camp. Or leave me to the others.”

She raised a brow, looking at him. “And you still stayed?”

“Well…” He shrugged. “I hoped you wouldn’t.”

A big grin spread wide across her face. “Sounds like someone’s starting to trust me, too. You want to be friends, don’t you Astarion?” She waggled her brows at him, very satisfied with her conclusion.

He scoffed. “On second thought, maybe I’ll just take my chances—” he started to turn, as if to walk away from the conversation, but Erin stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Oh stop. No use denying it now,” she laughed. “Besides, we need to figure out how we’re going to feed you from now on.”

He rolled his eyes. “I thought you’d made that quite clear just a moment ago? I’m to feed exclusively on you now if I recall correctly.” He paused, looking at her again. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?” He asked uncertainly.

She waved the question away. “No, no. You can still drink my blood. But we need to figure out a different way to do it.”

He looked at her like she was crazy. “What do you mean?”

"The previous method didn't work, if you'll remember. After last night, I don’t think you should bite me anymore."

His mouth gaped. "What? That was an accident! You're fine now, aren't you? It's not as though I didn't bring you back."

"I'm not fine.” She poked his chest. “I died. That's something I thought I would only have to experience once, preferably of old age, and not have to remember. But I do remember. And it sucked."

He smirked, and she swatted him on the arm for it.

"You don't get to laugh at an accidental pun about how you killed me."

His smirk dropped and his brows lifted slightly, giving his eyes a wide, soft appearance.

"You're right, darling. I - I'm sorry. I just - you-" he paused, looking to the ground. He looked back to Erin, his face tilted away as though he might run away. Was he... embarrassed?

"The truth is... you were my first." he cleared his throat and looked down at one of the many pillows he had lying on the carpet laid out before his tent.

Erin was shocked into silence as blood rushed straight to her cheeks. 

"What?" She asked.

"You were the first... thinking creature I've drunk from. I've only ever fed from animals before you."

She didn’t quite know how to respond to that.

"Are you new to being a vampire or something?"

She couldn't think of another reason for her to be his first person to drink from. Astarion didn't strike her as someone who would have a moral code against feeding from thinking creatures, as he put it. 

"Ahah!" He laughed, a more bitter edge to the sound than the silly high-pitched one she had grown used to.

"Oh goodness, no. I've had this… condition for nearly two hundred years."

Her eyes widened. She couldn’t fathom being alive for that long, let alone hungry. 

“Was there any particular reason you didn’t drink from a person until now?”

He scowled. “Yes.” He didn’t say anything else.

Erin decided now wouldn’t be the best time to pry. She continued on.

“Well, after being hungry for so long, I think drinking from a person might be something you’ll have to ease yourself into. I want to help you, but I don’t want you to get carried away again, whether or not you mean to.” 

She wondered at what she could do. She didn’t like the idea of cutting herself with a knife. With her luck, she’d get tetanus. Shadowheart seemed to be pretty good at treating wounds, but she didn’t know how far those abilities extended. If she was at home, she could go to the doctor for an infection like that. Here, she didn’t know. Thinking about her doctors’ office did give her an idea though.

She looked at Astarion. "One second,” she said. “I have an idea. I'll be back."

Erin ran toward Shadowheart's tent before he could ask any questions. 

"Knock knock!" She said, standing just outside the tent flap.

She watched as Shadowheart lifted the tent flap just enough to give her an amused look through the opening. 

"You know, I don't think you can knock on a tent flap."

Erin grinned. "Which is why I said it! Do you have a minute? I'd like your help with something."

Shadowheart lifted the flap open further and nodded at Erin to come in.

The smell of incense filled her lungs as she stepped in. Looking at the small set of items laid out in what looked like a makeshift altar, Erin thought she must have interrupted Shadowheart praying or something.

Shadowheart watched Erin, waiting for her to tell her why she was there. A few hours had passed since she’d come to check on her that morning, but she still looked wary.

"Since you're a healer, you wouldn’t happen to keep any medical supplies with you, would you? And before you ask - my wounds are still fine."

Shadowheart narrowed her eyes at her.

"What kind of supplies?"

Erin thought it would be too much to hope for anything similar to what they used to draw her blood when she donated at blood drives back home.

"Do you have any needles?"

"I have a kit for stitching wounds. What do you need it for?"

Ignoring her question, Erin asked her own. "Do you think you could help me draw blood with it? About a pint of it?"

"Why?"

"Because that's about the amount I'm used to having drawn. Any less might be too little, and any more might make me faint."

"Why do you want me to draw your blood?" Shadowheart asked again.

"Do you think you could accurately get a vein here?" Erin tapped her inner elbow, where she was used to phlebotomists sticking her. "My veins are a little small, I don't drink nearly as much water here as I'm used to drinking back home, but I'm more active which probably helps with the bloodfl-"

"Erin." Shadowheart interrupted her tersely, "Why. Do. You. Want. Me. To. Draw. Your. Blood."

Erin huffed. "So you're allowed to keep things to yourself, but I'm not?"

Shadowheart's expression remained stony.

"Not when you want my help with whatever it is you're doing."

Erin sighed. "Fine. It's for Astarion."

"I knew it!” Shadowheart slammed her fists down on the floor of her tent. "Why would you give him more after what he did to you? Do you really have no sense of self-preservation whatsoever?"

"He didn't do it on purpose! He brought me back as soon as he realized what he'd done!"

Shadowheart laughed humorlessly. "That was the very least he could do! Why are you defending him?"

"Because he's not a bad person. He made a mistake, and he apologized. I know that doesn't magically fix everything, but he's still my friend and I want to help him.” She gave Shadowheart a pleading look. “He needs blood, and I'm not going to judge him for something he can't control. I can't deny him it anymore than I could deny you water."

"The difference is I'm not dependent on you for water. I don't take it from your body." 

"He's not taking, I'm giving,” Erin corrected her. “And it's not even that big of a deal. I used to donate my blood for people who needed it back home. The procedure was similar to what I'm asking you to do now." 

Shadowheart gave her a long, hard look.

"Fine." She relented. "I'll help you. If only to keep you from letting him bite you again. But I want you to be careful. You might not be willing to stake him, but I am."

Erin looked down at the floor of the tent between them. "Please don't joke about that, Shadowheart."

"Who's joking?"

Erin frowned deeply at her.

Shadowheart sighed, rolling her eyes. "Oh fine. But if he kills you permanently, it will be his end."

"He won't." Erin replied softly.

***

When Erin returned to Astarion’s tent, she was carrying three bottles in her arm. She looked tired, but pleased with herself as she reached out to offer him one of the bottles.

He looked down to the proffered bottle, then back at her.

"What's this?"

"What do you think?" She laughed, setting the other two bottles down on the small table he kept outside his tent.

He watched her set the bottles down and looked back to the one in his hand. "Where did you get it?"

"Again, where do you think?" She laughed again, tapping the inside of her wrist where Shadowheart had drawn the blood from. There was a small pinprick there.

"I thought it'd be easier this way," She said. "We don't have to worry about you getting carried away, and I can give you blood pretty regularly. I thought I'd only be able to do about a pint at a time, but those nifty healing potions seem to replenish what I've lost pretty fast!” He was staring at her, his face unreadable, and she looked away from him as she went on.

“I could probably do a little more once I’ve had a few days to rest from the wolf bite, and, well. Dying. I might not always be able to do a lot, depending on how exhausting our day was, but I wanted to give you as much as I could tonight since you've gone so long without.” She still hadn’t met his gaze again, and she started shifting her weight from one foot to the other, lightly bouncing in place as she kept talking.

“Anyway, you might be able to cut it with some animal blood to make it last a bit longer? That way you'd get the benefits of having some human blood while still being able to drink enough to be well-fed. I know it's probably not your ideal diet, but—"

"Erin,” he finally interrupted her. “Stop talking."

"Hmm?” She looked at him again, a little surprised, and looked away again. “Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to ramble. This was just the only thing I could think of—"

"Erin."

She met his gaze.

"This... it's- I-" he paused, "Thank you."

She smiled back at him. “Of course.”

Back at the campfire, Gale called to the camp, letting everyone know that breakfast was ready. Erin waved at Gale over her shoulder, then looked back at Astarion.

“Well, now that you’ve got your breakfast, I guess I better go get mine.” She chuckled softly.

Astarion nodded, watching her go as she walked toward where Gale was ladling out bowls. 

@verbenaa!!!! Thank you for tagging me!!! ❤ Please have my idiot MC trying to pretend she doesn't want to kiss the vampire!

“Tell me you want me to kiss you.” She bites back a whimper, trying to turn her face away, but forgets his hands and the sound escapes when he holds her there, eyes fluttering open to stare up at him. “I… don’t…” She struggles to get out, heart slamming into her rib cage. He shakes his head, thumbs circling her skin slowly. “I said no lies,” She gulps, weighing everything as time seems to stop around them.  What he’d said in the windmill still tears at her, but his tenderness at the river… his arms during the dance, his kiss on her forehead… God, everything feels so complicated, twisted in a maze that she can’t navigate. She needs his lips like she needs breathing, every part of her aching to indulge and end her pining, to satisfy the burning desire that takes hold of her thoughts every waking minute. It’s so painful… pretending not to like him, pretending that she doesn’t want to press their mouths together and let him devour her, to end the vicious punishment she keeps putting herself through. It’s like stepping through broken glass, and it’s every bit as shitty as you’d imagine. Yet… if she does, does he even know what it means to her? Does he even want her past satisfying a night of pleasure? If she ignores all her doubts and leans in now, she’ll need to decide if she’s okay with that, and if she’s not… if she wants more… she’ll need to figure out whether or not she wants to stay in Faerun or find a way home. There’s no getting around it. She’s smitten with him, and the thought of returning to Earth without him makes her feel like a hollowed-out shell. But that’s… a whole other can of worms. “I…” She bites her cheek, breathing ragged. His pink ears stir her already fast pulse, and his lips look so perfect and flushed- invitingly soft… She swallows again to lubricate her throat, inhaling sharply as the decision makes itself and she shoves all the rest of it down. “I need you to.”

Hehe, I think you've all been tagged ❤ Thank you!!!

wip wednesday

can you all believe I ACTUALLY MANAGED TO POST THIS ON WEDNESDAY???? me either, but here we are 🥹 thank you to @khywren for tagging me, you're the bestttttt ✨

have a little snippet of chapter 7 from to eden, which I might be able to swing posting this weekend?? maybe???? idk but it's coming along and close to being done!

The tightness in her chest doesn’t go away inside the warmth of the Last Light Inn but it loosens the smallest bit in the hustle and bustle of it all, no longer strangling around her insides as a candlelit glow washes over them and the Harpers mill about on all sides. The goblet of wine she hold in her hand doesn’t hurt, either.  Jaheira—the one and only fabled hero of many a tale—looks at her from across the wide table, the strange upwards tick of her lips and carefully blank look in her eyes nothing but suspicious. Rin takes a delicate sniff of the goblet in her hand, smelling a slight medicinal bitterness that doesn’t quite belong swirling amongst the red liquid. “Jaheira, I have to ask. Did you poison my wine?” “This vintage is over a century old. I’m sure a few drops of truth serum won’t affect the taste. Much.” The druid’s smile widens as she regards Rin with an appraising look, eyes narrowing as she waits to see her next move.  “Well, in that case, even more reason to drink.” Rin takes a dainty sip of the burgundy liquid, eyebrows raised pointedly towards the other woman as she swallows down the wine, the taste of it just a touch too bitter as she refrains from grimacing at the acidity. “Have you poisoned many people or am I one of the first? It’s an honor, either way.” She doesn’t see but hears Astarion sputter behind her, face contorted into what she can only imagine as an expression of pure disbelief, positively aghast at her impulsivity as he scoffs. With a shrug, she downs the rest of the goblet, an aggravated noise escaping from Astarion where he stands behind her. “Still better than what the tieflings gave us back at the Grove.”

tagging to participate if you want to! @elinorbard @preciouslittlebhaalbae @ladyduellist @xxnashiraxx @kalmiaphlox @roguishcat

no pressure and if you've already been tagged i'm sorry!!!

RUBY POSTED RUBY POSTED RUBY POSTED

The Arrangement (15) - Acquaintances

Summary: Astarion meets a friend of old and quickly realises it might have just cost him something very dear to him.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past trauma and abuse. Mentions of abuse.

Note: This post on reddit shed some light on Cazador, so I definitely giving it a read!

Word count: 3.3k

Series masterlist . Ao3

In times past, Astarion would have found momentary solace in the person standing right before him. After all, silence and whatever could be called normalcy were hard to come by in Cazador's palace.

The servants had been the very embodiment of the life he had long lost. In fact, they had been the only life that roamed the vast halls. All had accepted  being there willingly and under the foolish illusion that Cazador would one day grant them the gift of immortality. 

If you could actually call it a gift…

And even though they were loyal to the vampire lord to a fault, they were, for the most part, quite amicable to his spawn as well. Some would even tend to the vast and deep wounds inflicted by Cazador after he had spent his wrath.

Astarion had been quite fortunate to be on the receiving end of their mercy on numerous occasions, when his field of vision was nothing but a pool of blood – a sore reminder that crossing Cazador Szarr was not to be taken lightly.

Eyla?

He did remember her name and her kindness and gentle touch amidst his wails of pain.

“Surprised to see me?”

The slim figure took a few sure steps in his direction as he cradled your limp form in his arms, still overrun with shock.

Astarion tried to talk, but no words left his mouth.

“I suppose your silence is a novelty,” she said, coming to a halt as she pushed the hood down, revealing her pleasant face. “After all, you were always the loud and troublesome one.”

For better or for worse, navigating through undeath and the unpredictability of his circumstances ever since he was snatched from Baldur's gate, had taught him a thing or two about being prepared and always on guard.

The dagger tightly strapped to his thigh was proof of it. He would only need to move his hand slightly under you to reach the hilt.

“What have you done to her?”

The woman's lips were pressed into a fine line for a long while, as if examining his question.

His patience was running thin, and he tried hard to keep her engaged enough so he could find a way to incapacitate her.

“Do not fret – she will be fine,” she said with a sigh, drawing even closer. “Not that it wouldn't give me great pleasure to put an end to the so-called hero of Baldur's Gate and her role in what you did to the master.”

Ah.

He should have known that this had something to do with Cazador. It seemed that he was destined to have him haunt him even in true death.

The sudden realisation hit him so hard he held you even closer to his body, shifting along the bench as if that would create a safe distance from Eyla.

Surprised was soon drowned out by the ever-growing anger that took root within him. He was known for his temper and outbursts, and clearly not the most sensible man when cornered.

But this was something else entirely.

Astarion had over two hundred years of having the worst atrocities being inflicted upon his body and mind. As far as he was concerned, he had managed to find useful ways to deal with imminent threats to him.

But he wasn't so lenient when it came to you.

You were off limits to anyone.

And he wasn't going to allow any harm to befall you.

“You'd be wise to undo this right now, or this conversation will be rather short.”

She had the nerve to snicker, eyes flickering under the moonlight. “Freedom has made you even more insufferable and entitled. Godey ought to have been harsher to you back then. I reckon one hundred more lashings would have made a difference each time you crossed the master.”

Rage swirled throughout his body like poisonous fumes, and he found it hard to stay put through the taunting.

But she was a fool to think she could best him in his natural element. After all, he had a tongue sharp enough to rival the blade of his dagger.

“Well, darling,” he started, slipping nearly effortlessly into his usual demeanour, “Godey is now nothing but a pile of dust, so unless you intend on joining him for a tea party in the afterlife, I'd make sure to tread lightly.”

And like clockwork, the first cracks began to show.

Her face dropped ever so slightly and he figured he had one - maybe two if the gods above even cared to bestow him any grace - sneer remark left before she lashed out at him.

“You insolent and ungrateful brat,” Eyla spat out through gritted teeth, both fists clenched at her sides, allowing him to infer 

Well, he had clearly exhausted her patience already, hadn't he?

No bother.

His right hand now gripped the handle of the dagger firmly, as he readied himself for an imminent physical confrontation.

But something made him freeze almost instantly, and his gaze dropped briefly to your face.

Maybe, just maybe, it was merely his mind playing tricks on him and feeding off his desperation, but he could swear he felt you shift slightly against him.

And then he saw your face tense.

A sudden wave of relief washed down on him, his free hand giving you a reassuring squeeze.

Good girl.

It was in moments like this that he vaguely wished – much to his utter disgust – that the wriggling worm was still a . He would have made good use of them, 

More than relief, he felt pride.

He had yet to meet someone quite as resilient as you. Whatever incantation had been cast on you surely wasn't enough to contain the tempest within you.

You had been shaped by the elements and woven into a sorcerer whose magic wasn't so easily put out. He had been foolish to think a mere vampire lord servant could ever be a match against your mind.

“Isn't it enough that you turned on your master and betrayed him?”

Oh, what a bloody nuisance. He had no patience to entertain speeches of heartbroken servants whose wet dream had been crushed.

However…

You shifted again, but no sound came from your parting lips.

Astarion knew then he had to play the waiting game. There was no denying you were slowly but surely coming to your senses, but he couldn't draw attention to it.

More than friends, you two had grown to become teammates, taking in on each other's queues to know when to make the right move.

He knew you needed time, and time he would give you.

Meeting her eyes with defiance, he took on the challenge. “What Cazador sold you was naught but a fantasy.”

Your hand shifted next.

Mentioning his name so blatantly made her visibly shudder. “How dare you? You utter his name with no regard that he saved you from certain death.”

He leaned back with a roll of his eyes, further reeling her into his trap. “Oh, please. And what would he save you from, exactly? Idiocy? I am afraid it would take more than a vampire bite to fix such ailment, dear Eyla. Eternal life can only do so much.”

Warmth began spreading under his palm, letting him know that you were returning to him.

Still, you needed more time.

“Your words might work on the weak, but not on me.”

“And yet… you managed to serve a vampire lord who had no intention to ever deliver his promises.”

Eyla was young and naive, so he couldn't truly fault her for being so passionate and loyal. Cazador's grasp reached far and viciously. Astarion had once fallen for his 

“That does not make me weak.”

A crooked grin curled his lips. “Just an idiot, then.”

He tugged on his dagger slowly, allowing his fingers to glide down across the blade, knowing that, sooner or later, he would have to make use of it.

Eyla scoffed, crossing her arms, apparently unaware that you were no longer unconscious.

Come on… you're almost there, darling, he urged sweetly in his head as if his words could ever reach you.

“The others warned me that you had become rather insufferable.”

Others?

“Oh, how very interesting,” he said, trying his best to ignore your hand clawing at his shirt. “Ava?”

Were they… friends? In on this together?

Her brows furrowed. “The monster hunter whore you befriended? Don't insult me.”

Clearly not.

Well… 

“Does this rendezvous even have a purpose?” Astarion said with a forced yawn. “Are we to swap snarky remarks until one of us perishes? I had more engaging plans for this evening.”

The serenity in her face had given her away. 

She wasn't alone and he was a master of shadows.

Even in the poorly lit area, he could see silhouettes drawing near right behind her. That was certainly yet another nuisance he would have to deal with.

“Astarion…”

Your voice snapped him out of his bloodbath scheming right away.

For a brief moment, he let his guard down by meeting your hazy eyes.

“There you are.”

His voice was almost shaky from relief, but it would come at a cost.

It had been an unfortunate distraction.

He wasn't sure how he managed to tap so quickly into his reflexes, but he soon felt the warm and familiar splatter of blood hit his face, making him wince from bloodlust.

In the midst of chaos and footsteps and hisses surrounding him, he was able to spot the man he had hurled his dagger at, slicing clean through the pulsing artery in his neck. The obscene gush of blood that ensued as he hit the ground was enough to drive any vampire mad.

And he was not immune to it.

He hadn't fed in days and he could use this to his advantage. In fact, he reckoned it would be the only way out.

Droplets streamed down his face, hitting his lips, and he wasn't strong enough to deny himself of an added burst of power. As such, his tongue darted out and a rumbling groan tore through him as the liquid progressively took over his senses. One by one.

Blood was blood.

He would have preferred yours, but he was far too hungry to be picky.

He had pushed you right behind him as he leapt from the bench, determined to take on anyone who dared to come close.

By the time he had managed to retrieve his dagger, Eyla had a smile dancing on her lips. One that had his eyes wide.

Astarion was fast and agile, but he was also severely outnumbered.

Two other men had rushed to his side, and he flinched as something began poking at his lower abdomen.

Wooden stakes.

“Astarion…”

Your voice was still void of the life it usually held. It was evident that you were still weak and in no condition to fight.

And, in truth, he wasn't even sure he wanted you to.

“Drop the dagger.”

It wasn't a request.

It was a command and he wasn't sure how to dodge this one. He usually carried knives and other daggers on him just to be on the safe side, but he didn't think he would need those tonight.

Fucking idiot…

No amount of self-deprecation would get him out of this one.

They wanted to kill him for what he had done to Cazador. They wanted revenge and he wasn't sure how his wits and snarky replies would talk him out of this one.

He groaned as one man drove the stake harsher against him, from under his shirt. Still, the pressure wasn't enough to break skin. Not yet, at least.

As a reflex, he immediately let go of the dagger, hearing it land with a muffled thump on the grass.

Eyla's spirit had been renewed and she took measured steps towards him. 

He heard grunts from his side as you struggled to sit down on the bench, flickering snaps of lightning emerging from your hands.

That almost made him smile.

You were a fighter through and through, and he wouldn't mind parting this world in these terms. Knowing you had been enough to ease the pain of centuries of hurt. He had been given a second chance at life when he met you and not when he was made immortal. 

He had never felt more alive than in the moments he had spent with you and he would wish to have more, but he couldn't wish for that at your expense. After all, you had your whole life ahead of you. 

He had had his fill. 

He was ready to meet whatever fate awaited him, as long as you were kept safe.

“You're coming with us.”

His brows furrowed, caught by surprise.

“Do not harm her.”

Eyla was so close he could feel her hot breath on his skin, fanning the blood on his face that had begun to dry into sticky patches.

“We are not harming anyone,” she said viciously. “But we've had enough of you running around unscathed after what you've done.”

He wished he could tear his eyes from you, but it was like a force field. Your arms trembled as you tried your best to rein in the elements inside you. Lighting and fire swirled erratically from your hands. 

Yours was wild magic.

Hard to harness and bend to your will.

Even harder when thrown off balance unexpectedly.

“Look at me, Astarion.”

The two men pressed the stakes harder and he had no choice but to comply, meeting her eyes again.

“Did you really think we were going to allow you to have your happily ever after? That you could off into the sunset with her once you found a way to not burn to ashes?”

She was mocking him… goading him, knowing he was rendered immobile.

“Have you been the ones sabotaging this all along?”

A surge of outrage nearly burst from deep within as her silence answered his question. 

“Surprised?”

That would be an understatement. He couldn't even begin to describe the turmoil that gripped him from the inside out.

“Why…” His voice faltered momentarily, “why not just kill me right when you had the chance?”

At this, Eyla laughed. “Is there a bigger punishment than the illusion of freedom? Killing you would have been the kinder way out for you,” she went on, each word dripping with poison. “No. No, Astarion. You were a fool to hope. You were a fool to hope your misery was over.”

A part of him was still in shock at the revelation, and he had no smart jabs that could possibly help him right now.

But the truth was that, the rest of him, had begun to accept that. He had been a fool indeed to think he could have had any other ending than this.

That he could have had a semblance of happiness with you.

“But I think that we are tired of playing this game. Maybe it's finally time to kill you.”

Just like a punch to his gut, he was quickly overtaken with dread as he heard a faint whimper from you.. “If you're going to kill me, don't do it in front of her.”

“You are in no position to make demands.”

“Please.”

He was running out of time. 

He thought he had bought enough for you to recover, but you couldn't even bring yourself to sit upright, let alone save him from whatever awaited him.

Most importantly, he was running out of ways to ensure you weren't scarred for life for witnessing him being destroyed.

“Oh, you're going to beg? The way you used to beg Cazador to stop carving the scars you carry on you, hmm?” Eyla said, visibly satisfied with the effect her words had on him. “Get on your knees and beg, then.”

“No… fuck…” you said in between groans. 

He'd rather you had lost consciousness once again, for each word from you was as a dagger that was carved into him.

“Astarion. Do not kneel…”

The two men holding him tight chuckled darkly as his knees began to cave in, but before he could go through with it, Eyla raised one hand, halting him.

“What if we kill her instead?” she chirped, making her way to you. “I think we should. Astarion would have an eternity to suffer for having killed the only person he has ever truly loved.”

Blinded by anguish, Astarion lurched forward, feeling both men struggling to keep him in place. He felt the sharp tips of the wooden stakes break skin just enough to draw blood, but he powered through the fear that loomed over him.

“I will fucking kill you if you touch her!”

With a click of her tongue, Eyla sat next to you, one hand caressing your head as you spilled curses at her, still drained from whatever magic had been cast on you.

“You'd be staked before you could even reach me, silly boy,” she said, revealing a knife from under her sleeve. “Now that I think about it, killing her seems the most reasonable choice here.”

You tried to flinch away from her grasp, and Astarion felt himself go mad from the sight in front of him.

He was about to scream when they muffled him with a piece of cloth, robbing him of his voice.

Reflexively, he tried to break free once more, but he was far too weak to put up a fight.

He knew it was futile, but he had abandoned all reason. Even though he had savoured blood, he was still too weak to break through the hold they had on him. Each pull from him and each attempt to break free were quickly met with an immovable force.

When his eyes met yours, he saw you mouth something.

And it broke him.

He didn't need to hear it.

He knew what you were attempting to say.

Thank you.

He doubted any torture Cazador had ever inflected on him could ever match the pain he was currently experiencing.

Eyla suddenly grabbed a vial from her robes, spilling the clear liquid along the sharp blade.

“Isn't it poetic justice that you are a master of poisons, and she gets to die at your hand?”

He recognised the vial as his.

It was his poison.

He couldn't tell which one, but it hardly mattered. Each poison he concocted was terrible through and through. They were designed to hurt and, ultimately, kill.

Soon, you began to sob, swirls of fire engulfing your hands as frustration gripped you. You were unable to get your magic under control and you were going to die.

For him.

Because of him.

Eyla threw him a final glance, positioning the top of the knife right across your neck. You stilled immediately, knowing any sudden movement could have the blade slice right through.

He tried to speak again, but all his words came out unintelligible. 

“If you scream, they'll stake you.”

Eagerly, he nodded, and they swiftly removed the cloth from in between his teeth.

“Please. Don't!” Astarion said in sheer despair. “I will do whatever you want!”

She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment. “You have nothing to offer us.”

He had to try.

He had to try to buy himself more time in the hopes that someone had heard him and might 

“You want eternal life, don't you?”

Silence. Dreadful and agonising silence.

“I can find a way to help you. There are other true vampires out there.”

Eyla tapped the side of her blade to your skin as she pondered his words. She then exchanged looks with both men.

“Should we take his offer?”

Had he made it? Had he managed to bluff his way out of this one? To possibly get you somewhere safe?

Hope.

Eyla lifted the poisonous blade and Astarion felt a crushing weight being lifted from him.

She locked eyes with him for what seemed like a lifetime.

Please. Please. Please. 

Eyla clicked her tongue with a pout. “I don't think so.”

And he watched in horror as she moved her hand to swiftly bury the knife into your abdomen.

“NO!”

Astarion felt his body go limp as his field of vision got flooded with a golden and warm beam that tore through the night sky akin to how the sun breaks the dawn. 

Next chapter: When All Things End

With Stars to Fill My Dream (1 & 2)

IT'S FINALLY TIME!!!!! I have taken a deep breath, poured over these two damn chapters all day, and I'm finally ready to upload!! 🖤 Special thanks to all the hype I got from this gang- I love them so much 🖤 Thank you for hyping me every step of the way!

@preciouslittlebhaalbae @inkymoonbunny @verbenaa @justabiteofspite @elinorbard @ladyduellist @bhaalsdeepbat @sashitf

Please enjoy Ofelia, my idiotic Earthling Tav/OC, trying to survive and make friends in Faerun after getting kidnapped from her realm! This is a fun, sometimes dark and angsty isekai adventure- what would happen if BG3 wasn't a thing on Earth, or D&D? How would you fare?

Opening of Chapter 1: Chasing Rabbits under the cut!

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count for Both 1 & 2 Combined: 12,093

When logic and proportion,

Have fallen sloppy dead.

And the white knight is talking backwards

And the red queen’s off with her head

Remember what the dormouse said

Feed your head…

***

An eerie quiet moves through the streets, cars fewer and farther between than normal. An unsettling feeling crawls over Ofelia’s skin and she shrugs her coat closer to her body, warding the night air off as she turns down a familiar alley. Her tiny apartment window glints at the end of the shadowed corridor and she grins, reaching into her pack to step back into her rollerblades. This last stretch has always been the most fun, and perhaps it’s the trepidation hanging in the night, but a smile and some exhilaration seem like the perfect medicine. She just has to get home, kick start her weekend with a cocktail and a good book, and tomorrow she’ll finally be able to adopt the cat of her dreams.

With the last lace tied, she secures her skirt and hunches over, preparing to rocket down the alleyway. She feels her muscles tense, sets her jaw- prepares to beat her personal best. She can taste the moisture in the air and the warning of the impending storm approaching, feels it in her bones as she mentally counts down.

3… 2… 1…

She never moves. Something flickers out of the corner of her eye, large and black and hulking in the night. It roils and undulates in the sky above the city, sweeping over the buildings like a dark tidal wave. She doesn’t have time to scream when the mass careens towards her, doesn’t have time to raise her arms in defense of a hit that never comes. She’s only greeted with total black as her world spins out of control and she falls unconscious.

to eden | chapter seven

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: If there was ever a moment that Rin regretted drinking all of that wine it would be now as Astarion peers at her with thinly veiled interest, baiting her. All it takes is those few words for the mood of their conversation to change, Astarion twisting it to something darker and more seductive.

She absolutely hates the way her body reacts at the sound of his voice nearer to her, a familiar fire kindling deep in her belly and her heart skipping a beat.

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/F!Tav

𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 5,814

𝒶/𝓃: hey let's just pretend it hasn't taken me 5 weeks to write this, ok? but for real, I'm so happy to be back on my regular grind and posting again! I hope you all like this chapter, and I'm excited to keep writing for these two idiots 🫡 let me know your thoughts in the comments and thank you to every single one of you who take the time to read, like, comment, reblog etc. you all mean the world to me!!!!! love you all byeeeeee

ao3 here

masterlist

Something in the air is wrong.

Whatever that something is, though, Rin can’t quite place her finger on. 

But there’s something off in smell of the air, the cloying scent of rotting leaves and decay sickening her, souring her stomach as they creep along the narrow pathway. 

Or perhaps it is the dead breeze that rattles bare branches as it carries the memory of death on its ghostly wind, the feeling of it making her shudder and turn in on herself with every brush of it against her skin.

All of it just wrong, wrong, wrong.

Rin bites her lip as she moves down the narrow path carefully on their trek further and further into this cursed world, fingers aching to grab at the blade she keeps strapped to her back if only to make herself feel a little bit better lest anything decide to surprise her by launching itself into stabbing range. 

Her chest is uncomfortably tight here, a subtle fear she will never admit out loud curling around her ribs, squeezing itself around her lungs with every breath she takes. 

Even Astarion has been left on edge, his hand gripping tight around a knife as he walks on Rin’s left, ever silent as he steps with care and his eyes rove back and forth along the darkness.

Perhaps the most wrong thing, though, is the one that they follow. The one who she had summoned with that lyre she had pilfered off of the corpse of that drow weeks and weeks ago in the depths of the goblin’s lair; plucking at its strings to play a haunting melody befitting of the horror that skitters on eight legs ahead of them along the trodden path towards Moonrise Towers.

Kar’niss, with his too many eyes and lips pulled into an eerie grin that the light from the moon lantern he carries does nothing to soften the lines of, sharp claws curled around the long post.

The Absolute really did pull a certain type, didn’t it? 

Rin sighs softly as her steps quicken, abhorring the idea of being any closer to Kar’niss than necessary but her fear of whatever it is lurking out in the darkness far surpasses her distrust of the drider.

But as they round a corner, she sees a movement in the shadows of a ruined building just beyond the path—subtle, barely recognizable in the darkness. Another a sweep of her eyes and she notices that there are people—real, living people—hiding all around them with weapons drawn and at the ready.

She’s not the only one who notices either, Astarion already adjusting his grip on the dagger as he readies it to throw and Shadowheart brandishing her glaive as she calls upon her dark Lady. 

And as Kar’niss calls for battle against the so-called heretics hiding in shadows, one thing becomes crystal clear: the Harpers’ mean to kill.  

It’s a split second decision, one she communicates through the rarely used tadpole that sits idle in her brain.

Kill the drider, he’s not the only ticket into Moonrise. 

They’ll manage without him.

Rin shares a brief, sweeping glance among her companions, all of them meeting her gaze in resolute agreement, and whether that agreement is for the sake of morality or for violence she doesn’t care, as long as they’ll fight along her side against whatever horrors await on the path ahead.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

The tightness in her chest doesn’t go away inside the warmth of the Last Light Inn but it loosens the smallest bit, no longer strangling around her insides as a candlelit glow washes over them and the Harpers mill about on all sides.

The goblet of wine she holds in her hand certainly doesn’t hurt, either. 

Jaheira—the one and only fabled hero of many a tale—looks at her from across the wide table, the strange upwards tick of her lips and carefully blank look in her eyes decidedly suspicious.

Rin takes a delicate sniff of the goblet in her hand, scenting a slight medicinal bitterness that doesn’t quite belong swirling amongst the red liquid. “Jaheira, I have to ask. Did you poison my wine?”

“This vintage is over a century old, you know. I’m sure a few drops of truth serum won’t affect the taste. Much.” The druid’s smile widens as she regards Rin with an appraising look, tawny eyes narrowing with interest as she waits for her next move.

“Well, in that case, even more reason to drink. Have you poisoned many people or am I one of the first?” Rin takes a dainty sip of the burgundy liquid, eyebrows raised pointedly towards the other woman as she swallows down the wine, the taste of it just a touch too bitter as she refrains from pulling a face at the acidity. “It’s an honor, either way.”

She doesn’t see but hears Astarion sputter behind her, face contorted into what she can only imagine as an expression of pure disbelief, positively aghast at her impulsivity as he scoffs.

Astarion’s apparent annoyance at her drinking the wine only serves to strengthen her resolve—a lovely, if unexpected, bonus that makes her smile.

With a shrug, she downs the rest of the goblet, another aggravated noise escaping the vampire from where he stands alongside Shadowheart, who releases a deep, weary sigh. “Still better than what the tieflings gave us back at the Grove.”

The wine goes down easily despite the taste of the truth serum, the flame of the taper wavering slightly as she sets her now empty goblet down onto the table between them. “So, what sort of burning questions do you need to ask me so badly that you decided to spike my drink in order to get the answers?”

“I had to know if you could be trusted. One can never be too careful when dealing with the Absolute. So I decided to add a few drops of a truth serum to your wine to speed up the process.” Jaheira finally takes a drink of her own wine, her eyes darting down to the now empty goblet resting innocuously between them. “Though I didn’t quite expect you to drink all of it.”

“One must live beyond expectation, don’t you agree?” An ungentlemanly snort sounds from behind her that Rin ignores, her most winning smile plastered on her face as she eyes the druid in front of her. 

The truth serum feels…strange as it begins to work its way through her body and up into her head; a certain weightlessness taking hold of her mind, as though she had drank one glass too many of wine, though with all of her thoughts and inhibitions still perfectly in place—not a one muddled or confusing or unnecessarily scandalous.

There is a certain inclination that rises up over all the others, a peculiar feeling that begs to break free of her lips with every question Jaheira asks, no lies able to be told under the potion’s spell.

And thus, the truth spills free from Rin’s lips.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

Rin slouches inelegantly against the back wall of the great room, eyes bouncing from person to person as she surveys the space. Such lodgings were more than they could have asked for, really. 

At least, in terms of what she expected to find on their little jaunt to these lands.

It certainly beats camping out at Moonrise, or she assumes as much. Rin doubts that whoever’s in charge over there would have the hospitality to serve her wine upon arrival much like Jaheira had, even if it was technically poisoned.

And so, under the famed druid’s blessing they had successfully made their camp and put away their armor—exchanging hard leather and heavy metal for worn-in linen and thin spun cotton, blissfuly free from the pressing darkness of the shadow curse and the menace of the Absolute, if only for the night.

Really, Rin’s only problem was the fact that her ankle still smarts somewhat from where Jaheira’s vines had held her a bit too tight for her liking earlier, leaving behind a small twinge of pain that she should probably have Shadowheart heal, if only she could be bothered to go find the cleric wherever she was busy sulking.

That, and, maybe the truth serum she had drank a little while ago that was still swirling around happily in her brain, though she can feel the power it holds over her weakening as the minutes go by. 

It was perhaps not her brightest idea to drink the wine. Her companions were quite vocal of their disapproval of such a decision afterwards. But it had earned them Jaheira’s tentative trust, and what good was it to make allies if they weren’t going to be heroes of legend? 

An evening spent with a little bit of klauthgrass in her system was a small price to pay for such a boon.

Or so she hoped.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rin sees a familiar figure making their way towards where she lurks at the back of the room, clearly intent on ruining her peace if the look of discontent Astarion levels at her as he stalks over is anything to go by.

Oh Gods, must it be him? She would gladly take anyone else’s conversation on a night like tonight, where truths threaten to break free when faced with nothing more than a mere question. She had already put in hard work of avoiding him earlier as they built their camp, finding reason after reason to skirt away elsewhere anytime he seemed to near her.

With a bracing breath, she takes a long drink from her cup to mentally prepare herself for whatever scolding it is that will fall from those beautiful lips with razor-sharp accuracy. 

He’s had the time to prepare it, thanks to all of her efforts to stave him away so far that evening.

Astarion sidles over to her, somehow managing to look more elegant than usual when he leans back against the wall next to her—perfectly casual and the picture of charm as he props a leg up, knee bent and arms crossed in front of his broad chest. He looks almost mesmerizing in the warmth of the inn, dancing candlelight reflecting off his snowy hair and illuminating his pale skin to near perfection. 

It’s a pity that the illusion of it all will be ruined by that poor attitude of his.

“Do tell, darling, was the wine worth it?” Irritation sparks on the edge of the words as they slice through the air, the level of judgment so easily revealed by such a simple sentence almost impressive.

She readies herself for the now familiar pull of the klauthgrass in her mind as it loosens her lips, any number of truths ready to slip free at his urging of her, and she has no doubt that Astarion is intending to waste such an opportunity.

Rin sends him a cursory glance as she takes another sip from her goblet, painting an easy smile on her lips. “I would say so, yes. It’s not everyday a girl like me from the Lower City gets to drink from such an expensive bottle.”

“Next time you want a nice bottle of wine, let me steal it for you instead of doing something utterly stupid that could have ruined our entire plan,” Astarion speaks through gritted teeth, voice kept low as he growls at her. 

“I thought you liked a little chaos in your day.” Rin can’t help the snicker that sneaks into the words, hiding it behind the cup that she raises to her lips.

“There’s sowing a bit of chaos and outright idiocy. You, my dear, are straddling the line a bit too close.”

“Why, Astarion, I didn’t know you cared.” The words are simpering in the way she knows Astarion will just hate, daring a glance up at the vampire beside her just in time to see his eyes roll.

“I don’t,” Astarion says cooly. “but I’ve been forced to go along with all of your awful little ideas so far and I would hate to see all my efforts wasted when I could have been enjoying myself in a tavern somewhere else instead.”

“Oh, please,” Rin huffs as she rolls her eyes, taking another drink. “You know perfectly well that you’re welcome to walk away whenever you feel like it.”

She shifts her weight as she attempts to ignore the imperious look Astarion sends her, wincing slightly as her ankle protests the movement.

Astarion gives a questioning look to the leg in question, his gaze assessing her for any weakness that he can exploit, much to her eternal chagrin. “Problem with your ankle, darling?”

She should have known that he would have noticed, eventually. He had been watching her all night, after all; a scowl etched onto his pretty features as he followed her every move with narrowed eyes as she talked to everyone else but him, no doubt preparing his every complaint for her. 

“Mm, yes,” Rin hums in confirmation, the word sneaking out without her consent thanks to the truth serum. She glares down at her dusty boots and the well-treaded rug covering the floor, its pattern long faded. “Jaheira’s vines were a bit tight for my liking. Not my preferred way to be restrained, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Oh?” Astarion’s voice drops an octave as he leans in further towards her, almost conspiratorial as his eyes gleam at the opportunity he hears in her words. “Do tell, what is your preferred way to be restrained, then?”

If there was ever a moment that Rin regretted drinking all of that wine it would be now as Astarion peers at her with thinly veiled interest, baiting her. All it takes is those few words for the mood of their conversation to change, Astarion twisting it to something darker and more seductive.

She absolutely hates the way her body reacts at the sound of his voice nearer to her, a familiar fire kindling deep in her belly as her heart skips a beat.

“With ribbons, obviously. Or maybe silk.” Her cheeks flush. Damn the klauthgrass.

She’s never been tied up, at least not like that; though the image is one that’s hard to brush away. She can see it far too easily in her imagination: Astarion between her legs, a lovely length of ribbon tied around her wrists, an actual bed— 

Rin brushes the thought away with a cough, taking a long drink from her wine in hopes of distraction.

“Oh, so is that the way you like it? Who knew that our little leader wants the nicest bottles of wine to drink from and the prettiest of ribbons to be wrapped all around her.” He’s teasing her and Rin wishes she could be angry with him but the image he paints is one that’s far too tempting for her to simply ignore.

“I do.” The truth pulls free from her once more, and she bites her lip in an effort to avoid saying anything else incriminating as a smirk slides across plush lips that she would like nothing more than to press her own against.

“And tell me, sweet thing, what else do you like?” Astarion leans in further, his lips practically brushing against the shell of her ear. She still can’t help the blush that has stolen its way across her face though she’s more than willing to blame it on the alcohol or the truth serum rather than his effect on her.

Rin stands perfectly still, resisting the urge to turn towards him as she sips from her wine, eyes looking at anything but him. She knows he expects her to reply with some sort of temptation that he can file away to tease her with later, at a moment when it’s most inopportune. 

But instead, another sort of answer comes to her mind first. One that she can barely stand to admit to herself, let alone speak aloud to him or anyone else.

She won’t allow the words to come out, working as hard as she can against the truth serum as it works its way deep into her mind, speaking to her with whispered words to let it out, let the truth set you free, tell him, tell him. 

“I like lots of things, Astarion. I love a good book, some well-aged cheese, winning a game of cards…I’m afraid you’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”

It’s a blessing, at first, that Astarion doesn’t answer her, the silence between them dragging as she mentally releases a sigh of relief that he abandoned that particular line of questioning and accepted the string of truths she managed to utter instead of the one that is bursting to be let free.

But when another beat of silence goes by unfilled with his honeyed words and she finally turns to look his way, her head snapping to the side, she finds his gaze on someone else.

Rin’s brow furrows as she follows Astarion’s line of sight only for her frown to deepen when she sees exactly who it is that has captured his attention. 

There, on the far side of the room sitting at one of the lanceboard tables that line the wall lurks an unfortunately familiar face. One that she had rather hoped to not have to see again after their last meeting outside of the Blighted Village.

Rin breaths out a noise of disbelief as all of the ease and relief she had been feeling earlier disappear into the ether. “Does he have no one else to bother?” 

Astarion deigns to leave her question unanswered, simply shooting her a look with a brow perfectly raised that stirs suspicion deep in her stomach, whatever idea it is brewing in that brain of his one Rin has distinct feeling she will not approve of.

Grim determination settles along his features as he pushes off the wall and strides forward, stepping confidently across the worn floorboard and threadbare rugs without waiting to see if she will follow.

Rin hastily sets her goblet down on the bar several steps away, the wine sloshing over the side of the silver cup in ruby red drops and onto the stained wood below. One of the tieflings from the Grove, Rolan if she remembered correctly, briefly looks up from where he is buried in his own drink to send her a glare as he broods pitifully in his seat.

She barely manages to catch up, arriving just in time to hear Raphael’s low drawl, swallowing down the grimace that threatens to break free and instead settling for a placid smile that gives nothing away to the cambion now in front of her.

“Well, well, well. And what is it we have here?”

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

The smell of brimstone is still thick in the air after Raphael’s little disappearing act, cinders drifting down to dust the worn herringbone floors where he had been standing. 

Fucking Raphael and his fucking deals.

“He really has some nerve, doesn’t he?” Rin’s arms are crossed in front of her chest as she hmphs, turning to Astarion to hear what she assumes will be his agreement.

But instead, her vampiric friend is mysteriously absent from his place next to her; and with a turn of her head she sees Astarion stalking out of the large doors of the inn, pace clipped as he weaves through a sea of Harpers.

“Astarion!” Rin spins around, calling after his retreating figure once before following after him.

An unwelcome frustration bubbles in her chest alongside the beginnings of distress and she quickens her pace, his lithe form no doubt clinging to whatever shadows he can find outside. She’ll be lucky if she’s able to spot him at all with all the darkness that exists here, even with the incandescent glow of Selûne’s blessing reflecting off of everything it touches.

“Astarion, wait!” Rin’s voice caries across the yard as her feet patter across the patchy grass, dodging the armored bodies of the Harpers as she goes. Wherever Astarion is, he either doesn’t hear her or refuses to hear her as she moves closer and closer towards the outer edge of the protective circle of magic. 

Her steps slow as she enters their campsite and the liveliness of the inn seems worlds away here in the silence. There are no animals here—no birds chirping or bees buzzing, only an otherworldly quiet that has her ears buzzing.

With a turn of her head, she finally sees Astarion exactly where she thought he’d be, standing tense at the edge of the riverbank as he faces the bleak landscape across the black water.

“Was it necessary to walk so fast?” They’re all alone as she nears him, her footsteps painfully loud in the otherwise quiet of the night.

He whirls around to her, agitation rippling off of him in waves as he glares at her. “Do you not know how to take a hint, or are you really that dim?”

Rin rolls her eyes, breathing out a sigh of agitation. “I’m the dim one? What are you even thinking to consider making a deal with Raphael?” 

“What am I thinking? I am thinking that there is more to whatever the thing is that Cazador carved into back. I am thinking that I have to figure out what it is. I am thinking that Raphael is my best chance to get the information that I need.”

His voice echoes off the bare branches of the trees as he yells, bitterness coloring his tone as he glares at her, the precise shade of his eyes—an angry incarnadine, she thinks—cementing itself into her memory.

“I understand, Astarion. I do. But I don’t think you should make a deal with him. Not with Raphael.” Rin wrinkles her nose in distaste at the mere thought of the cambion being able to hold anything over any of their heads, but especially over Astarion’s.

“You do not understand a thing.” He seethes at her. “I have one chance, and one chance only, to get this information. You will not stop me.”

“I’m not stopping you,” She stands strong in the face of his anger, fingers curling as she balls them into fists, nails biting crescents in the flesh of her palms. “But do you really think Raphael can be trusted? What if he makes you sign your life away for it?"

“And do tell, dearest Rin, why do you care so much about what I do with my life?” He spits out the words as though they burn, eyes glinting with the knowledge that he can ask her whatever he wants and she’s powerless to do anything but answer.

With a start, she realizes it’s the first time he’s ever said her name aloud, at least to her own ears. The revelation settles over her with a hazy sort of wonder that has no place in their fight as she replays the sound of her name formed by lips in her mind, turning it over again and again.

And it’s suddenly so perfect—so Astarion—that the first time he ever utters her name out loud isn’t when he tries to charm her with cheap pick up lines or in the midst of pleasure as he takes her to bed, but instead practically shouted at her in anger during an argument. 

Frustration eddies out of her like the tide rolling back out to sea and an aching, unfamiliar tenderness for the man standing in front of her fills in the space that it leaves as her expression softens.

“Because I don’t want to see something bad happen to you, you idiot. Is that really so difficult to understand? Do you need me to spell it out for you word by word?” Rin’s hands reach out to grab at his shoulders, as though she could shake some sense into him.

It’s a truth she doesn’t mind speaking, not when Astarion just stands there staring at her in vague disbelief as the cogs in his brain work to solve the puzzle of her words and the ire that had burned so readily in his gaze extinguishes, somehow giving way to everything and nothing all at once—confusion, distrust, vulnerability. 

“I’ll make you a deal, instead. I may not be a devil but—”

“You’re devil enough, I assure you,” Astarion cuts in with a lukewarm murmur.

“As I was saying,” Rin glares up at him halfheartedly as her grip loosens on his shoulders. “let me make you a deal. I swear, upon my grave, that we can and will find another way. Without using Raphael’s help.”

Astarion looks at her curiously, arms held straight by his sides as he stands perfectly still underneath the warmth from her palms. “At the rate we’re going, your grave is likely to be on an unmarked hillside somewhere between here and Rivington, darling. Pick something better to promise me with,”

Her fingers move to absently run over the line of his shoulders as she shifts her attention to his collar and the ostentatious ruffles that decorate the front of his shirt, slightly rumpled and not at all put together the way Astarion likes to pretend himself to be.

“Is swearing on my grave not devilish enough?” Her fingers run lightly over the ruffles of his shirt, the linen softened by time as she fluffs them back to rights. “How about my soul then?”

“It’s a step in the right direction, at least.” He’s infinitely haughty as he huffs, glancing away to look instead at one of the nearby trees that surround their campsite.

“You’re impossible.” Rin lets out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, then. I swear to you, on my soul,” she waves a hand through the air to add embellishment to her words. “that we will find a way without Raphael’s help. We can figure it out, I have faith.”

Rin knows her words have no actual binding, no infernal magic present to swirl around them and make her words true. She knows that it’s not even a real promise she can make, and certainly not a good enough one to ever tempt him. 

But it’s all she has to offer him, and she can only hope it will be enough.

Astarion’s eyes snap back to hers, narrowing as he raises an elegant brow. “Faith in what? I hardly think the Gods are listening. Or care, for that matter.”

“Well,” Rin’s fingers stop, biting her lip in consideration at his question as she waits for an answer, the true answer, to come to her unbidden with the help of the truth serum that still lingers. “faith in us, I suppose.”

It’s maybe the worst thing she’s ever said, the words coming out far too soft and—ugh, gods—sweet. But the most terrible thing about it is that she doesn’t hate the way that the truth feels slipping free from her lips nearly as much as she knows she should.

She needs to stop talking before she digs herself into an even deeper hole. Perhaps she should start taking off her clothes in hopes to distract him.

Her hands return to action in the wake of her honesty, smoothing them over his collar once, twice, before averting her eyes from his to glance at where her fingers begin to twine around the ties at his throat.

“That’s a terrible plan, you know.” 

Rin pulls at one of the strings perhaps a tad harder than necessary as she looks up once more with a glare at the ready. Any retort she has dies on her lips as she meets his eyes; wholly unprepared for the sheer intensity simmering there in the depths of his gaze.

Her hold softens on the laces, fingers going slack as she swallows. She’s unsure exactly of what name to put to look she sees—not lust, or anger; but something else—as those familiar dark crimson eyes flit down to her lips and she suddenly finds it much harder to breathe.

“Well, it’s better than anything you could ever come up with, that’s for sure.” She speaks in barely a whisper, Astarion watching every single word fall from her lips before his eyes trail their way up and over her features as if memorizing every detail before finding her own gaze.

A new kind of anticipation, one that she’s never felt before, curls in her stomach as Astarion releases a vexing sigh. “I haven’t the faintest idea of what you could mean. My plans are always excellent.” 

The words are pompous, irritating; and a part of her wishes desperately that she could hate him for all his arrogance and put-on charm, but instead something in her chest swells as she huffs out a short laugh.

With an impossible slowness, Astarion dips his head towards her, lashes half lowered over darkened eyes that still stare at her own, no doubt a fever-bright green as her freckled cheeks flush under the fullness of his attention. 

A breath catches in Rin’s throat as she angles her face up to meet him, the tips of their noses brushing as his lips close in on her own. She’s eager for the feeling of his kiss, has been wishing for it all evening—a fact she’s only willing to admit with the help of the truth serum.

And as her lashes flutter shut against her cheeks and her palms press flat against the planes of his chest, heart jumping against her breast as his lips are nothing but a hairsbreadth away; a familiar voice booms out from some distance behind them.

“Oi, Rin, Fangs!” The moment shatters as Karlach’s voice fills the camp, carrying far as it breaks through the silence surrounding them.

Rin’s eyes blink open wide just as Astarion takes two hasty steps backwards, surprise flashing over his features before he covers it masterfully, an impenetrable wall back in place within mere seconds.

Her hand raises to her still untouched lips, mourning the loss of his closeness as she stands bewildered by their almost kiss.

Astarion straightens his shirt, brushing out an imaginary wrinkle as he looses a breath, refusing to meet her eyes. “I will keep your…offer in mind, darling, but no promises.”

“It’s your choice in the end Astarion, but…I don’t like it.” Rin fights to keep the minute disappointment she feels from crossing over her features. She knew it was nothing more than a fools’ errand to try and sway him, but she doesn’t regret it. 

Not yet, at least.

“Well, it’s a good thing it’s not your decision to make, isn’t it?”

A frown settles between her brows as Astarion finishes his assessment of himself and finally looks at her again, any figment of emotion that had been there mere moments ago effectively washed away as he dons the mask of a charlatan once more.

“Right. Well, goodnight. Don’t you worry your pretty little head over it.” Astarion sends her one of his trademark smirks as he rolls his shoulders back, standing up straight as he looks down his nose at her. “Unless, of course, you want to be thinking of me. In that case, feel free to worry over me to your heart’s content.” 

With one last, maddening little wave he retreats to his tent without sparing her a single glance, leaving Rin to stand there alone in the middle of camp, a hand still poised over her lips and discontent coiling in her chest.

Karlach finally emerges from between two tents, a frothy pint in hand that she uses to gesture towards Rin, ale threatening to spill over the edge as she inclines her horned head in greeting. “Hey, Solider! Want to come join for a game of cards or some shit like that?”

With nothing else to do, Rin turns towards Karlach with a smile and a nod before she heads back towards the wavering light of the inn in the distance with the intent to drink herself into absolute oblivion.

It’s easy to follow Karlach and fall back into the familiar routine of indulgence—to drink more wine and lie to herself that the blush that stains her cheeks the rest of the evening is from the klauthgrass, or the alcohol, or the laughter she shares with her friends and not at all because of the fact that Astarion had almost kissed her. 

It didn’t matter that they had shared far more than kisses already, bypassing the standard order of things and jumping straight into sleeping with one other. 

That was what they had both wanted, wasn’t it? 

And it was what Astarion’s silly little game has always been about, had it not? She still hadn’t been able to figure out the rules, but she was sure it had to do with her as his conquest—his prize—though for what reason she’s yet to glean. 

It was one thing to be friends who slept together. 

But it was another thing entirely to be friends who simply kiss, and the thought consumes her for the rest of night no matter how many more glasses she downs in hopes to chase it away.

It’s late when Rin finally lays down in her bedroll that night, the klauthgrass blissfully absent from her body yet her mind still swirling with the revelation that she is perhaps far more fucked than she would like to admit. 

She’s signed, sealed, and delivered her fate just as surely as she’s sealed another letter to him with a cheap wax seal, written when the last of that terrible, evil truth serum still poisoned her mind along with a few cups of wine too many. 

That stupid letter, one that is never to be delivered; the contents of which contain the answer to that damned question he asked her earlier.

And tell me, sweet thing, what else do you like?

And so she did the next best thing she could think of to rid herself of words that still begged to be spoken aloud; grabbing a piece of parchment and her quill and ink before sitting down to write the answer, hoping that she could seal the feelings into the ink on the page and leave them there to dry, freeing herself of them forever.

If she had any mind at all, she would march out of her tent and throw the letter into the roaring fire at the center of camp so that the words it contains could burn to cinders, never to be read.

Because Astarion could never, ever know that what she really liked—more than his body, his clever words, his awful sense of humor, or how lovely he looks when he focuses on his sewing next to her by the fire at night—was him.

With Stars to Fill My Dream (1 & 2)

IT'S FINALLY TIME!!!!! I have taken a deep breath, poured over these two damn chapters all day, and I'm finally ready to upload!! 🖤 Special thanks to all the hype I got from this gang- I love them so much 🖤 Thank you for hyping me every step of the way!

@preciouslittlebhaalbae @inkymoonbunny @verbenaa @justabiteofspite @elinorbard @ladyduellist @bhaalsdeepbat @sashitf

Please enjoy Ofelia, my idiotic Earthling Tav/OC, trying to survive and make friends in Faerun after getting kidnapped from her realm! This is a fun, sometimes dark and angsty isekai adventure- what would happen if BG3 wasn't a thing on Earth, or D&D? How would you fare?

Opening of Chapter 1: Chasing Rabbits under the cut!

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count for Both 1 & 2 Combined: 12,093

When logic and proportion,

Have fallen sloppy dead.

And the white knight is talking backwards

And the red queen’s off with her head

Remember what the dormouse said

Feed your head…

***

An eerie quiet moves through the streets, cars fewer and farther between than normal. An unsettling feeling crawls over Ofelia’s skin and she shrugs her coat closer to her body, warding the night air off as she turns down a familiar alley. Her tiny apartment window glints at the end of the shadowed corridor and she grins, reaching into her pack to step back into her rollerblades. This last stretch has always been the most fun, and perhaps it’s the trepidation hanging in the night, but a smile and some exhilaration seem like the perfect medicine. She just has to get home, kick start her weekend with a cocktail and a good book, and tomorrow she’ll finally be able to adopt the cat of her dreams.

With the last lace tied, she secures her skirt and hunches over, preparing to rocket down the alleyway. She feels her muscles tense, sets her jaw- prepares to beat her personal best. She can taste the moisture in the air and the warning of the impending storm approaching, feels it in her bones as she mentally counts down.

3… 2… 1…

She never moves. Something flickers out of the corner of her eye, large and black and hulking in the night. It roils and undulates in the sky above the city, sweeping over the buildings like a dark tidal wave. She doesn’t have time to scream when the mass careens towards her, doesn’t have time to raise her arms in defense of a hit that never comes. She’s only greeted with total black as her world spins out of control and she falls unconscious.

FINAL REBLOG (for now!)

Have some images of Ofelia and the gang in chapter 1! PS- there is currently no mod to add a classic diner dress, so I was forced to use the nurse uniform from Act 2 🖤

I also just realized I didn't share this before- the title of this work is from a line in Kashmir by Led Zeppelin, which I feel really fits the theme of this story! 🖤

With Stars to Fill My Dream (1 & 2)

IT'S FINALLY TIME!!!!! I have taken a deep breath, poured over these two damn chapters all day, and I'm finally ready to upload!! 🖤 Special thanks to all the hype I got from this gang- I love them so much 🖤 Thank you for hyping me every step of the way!

@preciouslittlebhaalbae @inkymoonbunny @verbenaa @justabiteofspite @elinorbard @ladyduellist @bhaalsdeepbat @sashitf

Please enjoy Ofelia, my idiotic Earthling Tav/OC, trying to survive and make friends in Faerun after getting kidnapped from her realm! This is a fun, sometimes dark and angsty isekai adventure- what would happen if BG3 wasn't a thing on Earth, or D&D? How would you fare?

Opening of Chapter 1: Chasing Rabbits under the cut!

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count for Both 1 & 2 Combined: 12,093

When logic and proportion,

Have fallen sloppy dead.

And the white knight is talking backwards

And the red queen’s off with her head

Remember what the dormouse said

Feed your head…

***

An eerie quiet moves through the streets, cars fewer and farther between than normal. An unsettling feeling crawls over Ofelia’s skin and she shrugs her coat closer to her body, warding the night air off as she turns down a familiar alley. Her tiny apartment window glints at the end of the shadowed corridor and she grins, reaching into her pack to step back into her rollerblades. This last stretch has always been the most fun, and perhaps it’s the trepidation hanging in the night, but a smile and some exhilaration seem like the perfect medicine. She just has to get home, kick start her weekend with a cocktail and a good book, and tomorrow she’ll finally be able to adopt the cat of her dreams.

With the last lace tied, she secures her skirt and hunches over, preparing to rocket down the alleyway. She feels her muscles tense, sets her jaw- prepares to beat her personal best. She can taste the moisture in the air and the warning of the impending storm approaching, feels it in her bones as she mentally counts down.

3… 2… 1…

She never moves. Something flickers out of the corner of her eye, large and black and hulking in the night. It roils and undulates in the sky above the city, sweeping over the buildings like a dark tidal wave. She doesn’t have time to scream when the mass careens towards her, doesn’t have time to raise her arms in defense of a hit that never comes. She’s only greeted with total black as her world spins out of control and she falls unconscious.

Hello, friends! Here is a snippet of Chapter 9 of my bg3 isekai fanfic, Indelible Imprints! You can read the whole chapter on Ao3! I'll be posting the chapter to Tumblr tomorrow!

Another snippet? Another snippet.

This is from Chapter 9 of my bg3 isekai fanfic, Indelible Imprints! You can read the full chapter in Ao3 or in the pinned post on my blog!

It's WIP Wednesday and I woke up too early, so here's a lil bit of Chapter 10 of Indelible Imprints! You can read chapters 1-9 on Ao3 or here on on my blog!

Initially I wrote chapters 9 & 10 as one big chapter, but it got away from me and I had to split it. The upside of that is that chapter 10 is mostly finished and should be posted in a few days!

Reblogging mid-week with a snippet of Chapter 3: Forgotten the Taste & Smell of a World That She's Left Behind. Going up this coming Sunday, sitting at 6,693 words!!!

“Hmm, noted.” He sniffs, their gazes tethering for a moment before he continues. “I suppose I did have another reason for coming down here.” She swallows thickly as he rises, hands tucked behind his back. “I must know… How are you so at ease? Your world must be much like this one if you’re so… comfortable here.” She absorbs his words, taking her time to really turn them over as her eyes fall to her body beneath the water. How is she so calm? The fear of existing in this chaotic world, being beholden to it to rid her of the parasite… it’s all a little overwhelming. Thoughts plague her mind for a moment before one answer fights to the forefront, demanding the spotlight. She plucks it from the fray, the rest of her thoughts blooming around it as she decides to give him the truth. Why not? It’s not like he would have much use for it. “They’re not alike at all, and I’m definitely not.” She smiles humorlessly, nails digging into her thighs. The shape of her lips feels wrong- off. “This place is huge, dangerous, and I’m completely out of my depth… Still…” She sighs, resting her chin on her arms as the water rises to lap at her neck. “I’m used to being alone back home… I may be lonely here, but it beats what I had before. Whether I die tomorrow or live long enough to get this gross little worm out of my head… at least that fact won’t change.” She doesn’t hear anything for a few seconds, absently wondering if he’d left after she finished speaking. She chances a peek up at him and sees that he’s staring at her, open and considering, before schooling his features once their eyes meet. Odd. “You’re not alone. We’re all bound by this… mind flayer business. As long as you don’t wallow in self-pity, you’ll survive.” His silly gestures make her want to laugh, his brow furrowed in determination. She hadn’t seen him wear this expression yet, and it’s kind of endearing. “Learn what your strengths are, lean into them, and whatever else you’re not good at… pretend.” When he turns his crimson gaze on her again, she nods, his speech oddly comforting.

With Stars to Fill My Dream (1 & 2)

IT'S FINALLY TIME!!!!! I have taken a deep breath, poured over these two damn chapters all day, and I'm finally ready to upload!! 🖤 Special thanks to all the hype I got from this gang- I love them so much 🖤 Thank you for hyping me every step of the way!

@preciouslittlebhaalbae @inkymoonbunny @verbenaa @justabiteofspite @elinorbard @ladyduellist @bhaalsdeepbat @sashitf

Please enjoy Ofelia, my idiotic Earthling Tav/OC, trying to survive and make friends in Faerun after getting kidnapped from her realm! This is a fun, sometimes dark and angsty isekai adventure- what would happen if BG3 wasn't a thing on Earth, or D&D? How would you fare?

Opening of Chapter 1: Chasing Rabbits under the cut!

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count for Both 1 & 2 Combined: 12,093

When logic and proportion,

Have fallen sloppy dead.

And the white knight is talking backwards

And the red queen’s off with her head

Remember what the dormouse said

Feed your head…

***

An eerie quiet moves through the streets, cars fewer and farther between than normal. An unsettling feeling crawls over Ofelia’s skin and she shrugs her coat closer to her body, warding the night air off as she turns down a familiar alley. Her tiny apartment window glints at the end of the shadowed corridor and she grins, reaching into her pack to step back into her rollerblades. This last stretch has always been the most fun, and perhaps it’s the trepidation hanging in the night, but a smile and some exhilaration seem like the perfect medicine. She just has to get home, kick start her weekend with a cocktail and a good book, and tomorrow she’ll finally be able to adopt the cat of her dreams.

With the last lace tied, she secures her skirt and hunches over, preparing to rocket down the alleyway. She feels her muscles tense, sets her jaw- prepares to beat her personal best. She can taste the moisture in the air and the warning of the impending storm approaching, feels it in her bones as she mentally counts down.

3… 2… 1…

She never moves. Something flickers out of the corner of her eye, large and black and hulking in the night. It roils and undulates in the sky above the city, sweeping over the buildings like a dark tidal wave. She doesn’t have time to scream when the mass careens towards her, doesn’t have time to raise her arms in defense of a hit that never comes. She’s only greeted with total black as her world spins out of control and she falls unconscious.

Howdy y'all!

Chapter 10 of my bg3 isekai fanfic, Indelible Imprints, is up on Ao3 and the pinned post on my blog for those who prefer reading on Tumblr!

I really love this chapter, and I hope you do too! 💖 As always, comments and reblogs are so SO appreciated, I'm so happy to make friends here and talk with you all!

Here's a longer snippet to entice you!

Content Warning: Possession, forced self-harm, descriptions of violence and blood, and allusions to sexual assault appear in this chapter.

What Am I Supposed to Do (But Sink My Teeth in You?)

pairing: Astarion/f!Tav | Astarion/f!OC (Ysera) rating: 18+ MDNI word count: 6.7k tags/warnings: shameless smut, piv sex, fingering, pwp, sex pollen, established relationship, multiple orgasms, minor spoilers for Act 3 ──────── summary: It takes no more than fifteen seconds for Astarion to pick the lock, dexterous hands finessing the pins into place with unmatched ease. Ysera's too busy focusing on his fingers to hear it click before the door swings open, preoccupied with how those same precise movements have taken her apart beneath him time and time again. And how badly she wants to experience them now. ────────────────────────────── In the heat of battle, Ysera unknowingly casts an aphrodisiac spell on herself. With her resolve waning, Astarion is more than happy to let her whisk him away. AO3 ┊ masterlist

“You think that's the last of ‘em?”

Karlach lifts the heft of her greataxe over her head and rolls her shoulders. Gale is busy smoothing out his robes, and Astarion is wrenching his arrows out of several of the Bhaalist cultists he felled, tucking the good ones away for future use. 

It feels wrong to leave the bodies out in the open, but there's nowhere here to hide them. The commotion had driven the would-be onlookers away, but now it's only a matter of time before Gortash’s Steel Watch descends upon them. It's better to avoid any potential conflict if they can, even if they have declared one another temporary allies.

“Probably not,” Ysera groans, turning her eyes away from the carnage. Her magic had taken its toll on their assailants, ripping and tearing and burning through them with a ferocity that had surprised even her. 

The last week has been… a lot, if she's honest. Between the revelation of the Emperor's true identity to the quakes that have shaken the city – not to mention the small army of bloodthirsty minions Orin has sent to slaughter them – it's more than any of them bargained for. A thousand smaller fires popping up everywhere and running them ragged.

It would have been difficult enough if those were the extent of their troubles. Ever since they reached the city, Ysera's magic has been increasingly erratic and unpredictable, and the incinerated corpses at her feet are only a single instance of the destruction she has unleashed. 

Her blood always runs hot with adrenaline after a battle, but now… she feels even more strange than normal, a wave of delicious heat snaking its way through her body and curling low in her belly. She bites her lip and glances among her companions, grateful none of them seem to have heard the quiet moan that has just slipped past her lips.

Instead, they're looking at Astarion, who has already taken a stance with his arms crossed over his broad chest, expression twisted into a grimace.

“Honestly,” he gripes, scoffing. “You leave the city for five minutes and everything goes straight to shit. What’s next? Ghosts? Hoards of the undead?”

Gale's saying something now, finger in the air as he nods sagely, but Ysera hears none of it. When Astarion glances in her direction, the way his eyes widen before narrowing in silent acknowledgement sends another intense wave of pleasure through her, and her heartbeat quickens under his scrutiny.

Has he always been this handsome? Her gaze sweeps over his face, admiring the way his ivory skin almost seems to glow as the sun makes its descent below the horizon and the deep, shifting reds of his eyes that draw her in like a moth to a flame. His muscles flex beneath his armor as he steps forward, and she sucks in a breath when his scent reaches her. The heat has moved to her face, but it's more than embarrassment that's coloring her cheeks.

“ – okay?”

“Huh?” Ysera reluctantly looks from Astarion to Gale, whose brow is furrowed in concern.

“I asked if you were okay. Forgive me, but you appear to me to be quite feverish. I have just the remedy for that back at the Elfsong,” he says, flashing her a broad smile. “A delicious herbal tea that’ll have you feeling right as rain in no time flat.”

“I – I'm fine,” she says quietly, shaking her head. “It's probably just the heat.” Ysera catches a glimpse of Astarion's face on the edge of her periphery, his expression anything but convinced. She's certain he can already scent her growing arousal, despite the way she's got her legs pressed tightly together beneath her robes.

Even if she doesn't know exactly what's causing her current predicament, she does know one thing: she needs to be alone, or at least somewhere else with no one but Astarion. Already her mind is becoming hazy, her only dominant thoughts of Astarion and Astarion alone.

Bare-chested. Hair unkempt as it falls over his eyes. The way his fangs gleam in the light before he pulls her close and pierces her eager flesh. The way only she has seen him.

Her mouth is dry, tongue like sandpaper as she swallows thickly.

“You two should go on ahead,” she suggests, the inflection of her voice surprisingly steady. “There's something else I want to show Astarion before we head back.” If she avoids Astarion's discerning gaze, she can almost pretend it's nothing but an innocent request.

Karlach seems suspicious and lifts an inquisitive brow, but she shrugs and says nothing. Ysera silently thanks her for her compliance.

“If you're certain,” Gale says. His eyes flit to Astarion, who nods despite the worry clearly etched across the wizard's face. “I'll steep a kettle for you just in case.”

“Don't be late for supper,” Karlach says over her shoulder as she and Gale turn to leave, “Or I'm eating your portion again!”

“It was one time,” Ysera whines, heaving a heavy sigh.

The moment they're out of sight, she grabs Astarion by the wrist. He sputters in surprise at her sudden urgency but lets himself be pulled down a series of narrow side streets, before they slip into the first alleyway they find. Thankfully, they're alone, attracting only the occasional glance from people passing by.

“Are you going to tell me what the hells this is all about?” Astarion demands as Ysera slumps against the wall. She runs a hand over her face. Gale was right; she's feverish and unsteady on her own two feet, relying on the wall to keep her upright. The stones feel cool against her back, a momentary but welcome distraction.

“I don't know,” she says piteously, biting back a whimper as the friction of pressing her thighs together becomes suddenly unbearable. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

“Like what?” Astarion presses. Instinctively, he stands between Ysera and the mouth of the alleyway, keeping her hidden from view. She looks a mess, hair falling out of the ribbon she usually ties it back with, eyes half-lidded and mouth open slightly as she stares at him with what he can only describe as desperation in her eyes.

“Like if you don't touch me, I'll go mad.”

Perhaps she already has.

Astarion tentatively reaches out towards her, intending to take her face in his hands, but Ysera recoils from him instantly. Hurt flickers in his eyes, masked quickly by confusion.

“I don't understand,” Astarion says. “Did you not just tell me that you wanted me to touch you?”

“I know,” Ysera replies, fixing him with an apologetic look. “But it's not fair to burden you with this. It's my problem to solve. If I could just find somewhere quiet, I could take care of this myself, I could just –”

Her rambling thoughts come to a screeching halt when Astarion lays his hand firmly on her shoulder. She instinctively leans into the touch, sighing softly. The roaring inferno inside her body is contained, but not completely extinguished. Already she can feel her renewed desire for him pushing away every other insignificant thought that flits even briefly through her mind.

“Don't be stupid,” he mutters, though not unkindly. “If it's your problem, it automatically becomes my problem. That's how this whole relationship thing is supposed to work, right? Do you honestly expect me to just stand by while you suffer right in front of me?”

His concern makes her heart ache for him all the more, his inexperience and uncertainty writ plainly across his face nothing short of endearing.

“I'm not asking you to,” she clarifies, mouth pressed into a firm line. She takes a deep, bracing breath, wringing her hands in her lap as she sits on a discarded wooden crate. “I just don't want you to feel obligated to do this, even for my sake. We don't even know what this is, or that anything you could do would help.”

Astarion's gaze softens. Of course she would put him first, even now. He looks at her with nothing but affection playing across his features, glad she isn't watching when he smiles despite himself. If it was anyone else, he knows he would be far less forgiving.

But he will always make an exception for her.

“Ysera, look at me.”  She shudders when his fingers slip beneath her chin, beckoning her to lift her gaze. The sound of her name sounds so lovely on his tongue, saccharine and sweet as honey, and with grim determination, she obeys.

Shadows have long since flooded the alley as the moon begins to rise overhead, but from this distance Ysera can easily make out every detail of his face. He looks resolute as he finally gathers her face in his palms, smoothing the pad of his thumb over her cheek.

“I'm not offering to do anything I don't already want to do. You have my word.”

His tone brokers no room for rebuttal.

Ysera pushes herself to her feet, her restraint waning. “Good,” she says, “because I don't know how much longer I’m going to last if you keep looking at me like that.”

Astarion huffs a laugh, threading their fingers together. He knows that just the contact of his bare skin is enough to overstimulate her, but neither of them trusts her feet to lead her without guidance. Ysera holds his hand tightly, following him out of the alley and into the winding back streets of the Lower City. She keeps her head down, focused only on putting one foot in front of the other.

Desire ripples through her every time Astarion tightens his grip to pull her around another corner, and she finds it nearly impossible to contain the moans and whimpers that make it past her lips.

Astarion finds what he's looking for before long, a small flat tucked away on a dimly lit street. The windows are boarded, and the door is secured behind an impressive looking lock – in short, the exact kind of place where no one will disturb them.

When the coast is clear, he releases Ysera's hand, retrieving the set of lockpicks he always keeps stowed away in his pocket. It takes no more than fifteen seconds for Astarion to pick the lock, dextrous hands finessing the pins into place with unmatched ease. Ysera's too busy focusing on his fingers to hear it click before the door swings open, preoccupied with how those same precise movements have taken her apart beneath him time and time again. And how badly she wants to experience them now. When he takes her by the hand and pulls her inside the tiny space, the renewed sensation of his cool, marble skin against her own searing heat drags a guttural moan from somewhere deep in her chest. She laughs breathlessly, drunk on her own arousal, and follows him inside.

A cursory glance confirms what Astarion already knew: the place is unoccupied. It's a good thing too, because she'd likely tell him to take her in the nearby alley otherwise, and he's not convinced Ysera has enough forethought to be quiet enough for that anymore.

Normally, he wouldn't care about the impropriety – he's guilty of far worse, after all – but this situation is far from normal. She is his – the first person he could truly call his own – and he will share neither her nor her pleasure with anyone.

Ysera's back hits the door as Astarion advances on her. He wastes no time before burying his face into the crook of her neck, featherlight kisses pressed into the smooth scars there as he inhales the scent of her hair. Ysera moans again and arches her back. Her hands fly into his hair, caressing the sensitive points of his ears.

A shuddering groan rumbles in his throat, bottom lip caught between his teeth. She repeats the motion, and his hips buck against her, a flash of white-hot arousal setting his nerves alight. 

Oh, she is dangerous when she wants to be.

With their bodies flush against one another, he can feel the way her body trembles at even the slightest touch, the symphony of the Weave in her veins. Her magic roars into a crescendo, threatening to overtake them both, but Astarion slips his hands into hers again, entwining their fingers at either side of her head.

His tadpole reaches out, connecting them together. The link comes so easy now, so effortless in the way that everything has become with her.

I am not afraid, he tells her. I'm right here with you. My heart, my love.

Pride surges within him as he feels the tension in Ysera's body ebb away beneath his tender affirmations. She finds his eyes when he lifts his head to look at her, the softness of his gaze a testimony to his devotion. She rests her forehead against his brow, his scent more calming now that she's beneath him, but no less alluring.

Bergamot. Rosemary. Brandy.

The scent of home, the truest one she's ever known.

I love you, she tells him.

She gives his hands a squeeze and releases a breath. Her mind conveys the words her mouth can't seem to form.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

When the racing of her heart has grown less frantic, Astarion dips his head low again and deliberately drags his fangs across the column of her neck and the soft curves of her jaw, and she whimpers with need before he captures her mouth in a bruising kiss. It drives him mad, how eager she is to taste him, lips parting as their tongues meet between panting breaths. 

All it takes is a light press of his palms against the backs of her thighs for her to know what he wants, letting him hoist her up so she can latch her legs around the small of his back. With her arms thrown over his shoulders for extra support, Astarion spins her around without breaking the kiss, carrying her partway across the room.

In a stunning moment of clarity, Ysera's eyes fly open, and she reluctantly tears her mouth away from his fevered kisses.

“Wait. We shouldn't – this is someone's home, isn't it? We can't just…”

She's panting now, fighting every instinct in her body that calls out to him. He can see it in her eyes, pupils blown wide, hair spilling in loose, disheveled waves over her shoulders. Her grip on him tightens, and Astarion watches with rapt attention the moment she feels the ridge of his hardening cock brush against her backside.

Even when her mind is so addled with lust she can barely think straight, she still has the presence of mind to worry about the morality of what they're doing. It's so very like her that he can't help but laugh.

“Relax, my love,” he reassures her, pressing a series of indulgent kisses across her face. But instead of leashing her desire for him, it merely fans the conflagration blazing inside her.

“Take a look around; whoever lives here clearly hasn't been home in quite some time. They won't even know we were here.”

He's right, of course. Aside from the neglected furniture, the most abundant thing in the room is the thick coat of dust that covers every surface within view. 

When he sees she's satisfied, Astarion carries Ysera the rest of the way across the tiny living space, depositing her on the oak writing desk in the corner of the room. He nestles himself between her spread legs, and the slow drag of his cock against her clothed core makes her tremble so much she accidentally knocks an old inkpot off the desk, where it shatters on the stone floor.

She pouts at him disapprovingly.

“They will if you keep doing that.”

“Want me to stop?” he asks, already leaning in to lavish more attention on her neck while his hands slip beneath her robes, searching for the swell of her breasts.

Ysera's breath hitches when his hands touch her bare skin, and she throws her head back with a satisfied sigh.

“No.”

A wolfish grin finds its way to Astarion's lips.

“I didn't think so.”

With her robes pushed open, the fabric falls down over her shoulders, exposing her collarbones and the tops of her breasts beneath her brassiere. Astarion palms at them beneath the cotton fabric, lips pressed against her throat as Ysera arches her back into his touch. He loses his resolve the moment he feels her nipples stiffen beneath his fingers, nearly tearing the garment off of her in his haste to enjoy her properly.

Ysera's breasts settle warm and heavy in Astarion's hands, and when he sweeps across her nipples and pinches the taut buds between his thumbs and forefingers, she cries out and rolls her hips against him. Her legs shake on either side of him, an indication that she's already close to coming undone for him. He had intended to take his time with her, but it seems as if whatever has taken hold of her has other plans in mind.

“Not just yet, my sweet,” he drawls, drinking in the delicious little noises she makes for him as he kisses her deeply. “We've only just begun.”

Ysera whines in protest when Astarion pulls away from her kiss-swollen lips, leaving her breathless and panting. But when Astarion sinks to his knees on the stone before her, she sucks in a breath, enraptured by the sight of him between her thighs. She's already kicked off her boots by the time Astarion slips his fingers beneath the waistband of her pants, and as she lifts her hips off the desk, one good tug pulls them down past her knees along with her underwear.

With the rest of her clothing quickly discarded, Astarion pushes Ysera's legs apart, greedily taking in the sight of her naked body. Her sun-kissed skin looks absolutely stunning, her slick core quivering as she stares down at him through her lashes.

Ysera leans back against the smooth wood grain, propping herself up on her elbows. The conflagration within her is all-consuming, her need for him encompassing every fiber of her being.

“Astarion…”

“Yes, my dear?” Astarion runs his tongue over the tips of his fangs, balancing her legs over his shoulders as he presses a series of slow, teasing kisses along the expanse of her thighs. Ysera whimpers and squirms beneath him, her arousal pooling onto the oak desk beneath her. She grasps blindly at the shelves behind her, gripping them so tightly the wood nearly splinters.

“What is it?”

“Please,” she begs, holding her breath as Astarion moves ever closer to the place she needs him most. “Make me come.”

A low, gravely chuckle rumbles in Astarion's throat.

“With pleasure.”

He's surprised she doesn't unravel the moment he presses his nose against her clit and drags his tongue through her slick folds, even as the feel of his mouth on her punches a long, languid moan from her. Ysera's entire body tenses as she squeezes her eyes shut, only for them to open moments later when his lips wrap around the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. He sucks gently and alternates the pressure of his lips, employing decades of practice and the intimate knowledge he has of her body to make her instantly delirious.

The oak desk groans as Ysera fights against her body, hips undulating as she struggles not to write too much beneath Astarion's mouth. His hands glide over her waist, holding her in place as he feasts on her, groaning when her cunt clenches around nothing. He'd normally have a sly remark prepared for just such an occasion, but the taste of her is too intoxicating, and he's loathe to stop pleasuring her for even the short moment it would take to tell her how much he's enjoying the way she murmurs and whines and begs for more.

He revels in bringing her this uncontested pleasure, safe in the knowledge that no one has ever made her feel so whole, so complete. His eyes rise to meet her own, so dark with lust that the rich gold of her irises has become like molten honey. She watches him with rapt attention, committing the moment to memory as best she can.

With several quick flicks of his tongue, Astarion brings Ysera to the very precipice of her climax, fingers curling into the soft flesh around her hip bones as his name tumbles from her mouth like a mantra. But before she can find her release, he purposely pulls away, much to her dismay. She knows what he intends to do, to draw out and intensify her pleasure, but tonight she lacks the patience required to be teased so cruelly.

Ysera locks her ankles around his shoulders and coaxes him back against her, groaning in relief when Astarion resumes his exploration. Nose pressed firmly against her clit, he slips his tongue inside her, a slow, torturous drag that leaves her gasping around her broken cries of pleasure.

“Please,” she begs again, head thrown back as an intense wave of ecstasy builds within her. “It's so good, you're so good, Astarion, Astarion –”

She's so close now, babbling incoherently as every swipe of his tongue unravels the final threads holding her together. She grinds her hips against Astarion’s face, losing herself in the feel of him against her flushed and oversensitive core.

“That's right, love,” he growls against her, “let go. I've got you.” He thrusts his tongue deep inside her, pressing into the spot that drives her past the point of no return.

With a ragged cry, Ysera comes undone, back bowing off the desk as she rides the cresting wave that crashes over her with such ferocity that she almost loses complete control over her body. The wood beneath her hands collapses, the desk ruined beyond repair as Astarion guides her through her climax with gentle but persistent licks of his tongue. She tastes divine, and his cock strains itself against his laces, eager to be inside her.

When Ysera finally comes down from her high, Astarion rises to his feet, face still slick with her arousal. Her chest heaves with each gasping breath she takes, vision hazy as his face floats into her field of view.

“It seems you don't know your own strength, darling,” he teases her, a lopsided grin plastered across his features as he surveys what's left of the old desk.

“‘S… your fault…” she mutters between breaths, absolving herself of whatever meager guilt she feels about it. Truth be told, she stopped caring the moment his mouth dipped between her thighs.

Astarion fixes her with an affectionate look, gathering her into his arms and letting her wrap her legs around his waist. “You're still burning up, darling,” he murmurs, nestling his face again in the crook of her neck. The coolness of his skin is less intense than before, but the heat simmering in her core hasn't abated entirely. She clings to him, fingers carding through his soft curls as he kisses her flushed skin, chasing the thrum of her pulse through her veins.

“It's not that bad,” she assures him. “Not like before. But I still…”

“Hmm?” he prompts, dragging his nose along her neck and nipping gently at her earlobe. “Tell me what you need.” Palms splayed across her back, he caresses the curve of her spine, tracing idle patterns over her sweat-slicked skin.

Her voice is hoarse, raw from overuse, and she swallows thickly. “I want…” Ysera hesitates before correcting herself, “need – need you. Inside.”

“Oh, love.” Astarion's lips are impossibly gentle as he kisses her, soft and slow, letting her taste herself on his tongue. The sweetness of her arousal mingles with the salt of her sweat, a heady ambrosia that stokes the sleeping embers within her back to life.

“Let me make it better, sweet girl.”

Astarion lifts her back into his arms and carries her the short distance to the bed, laying her gently on the duvet. The mattress is surprisingly soft, and Ysera sinks into the sheets. Astarion peels his armor off, discarding it in a heap at his feet. Ysera watches him with bated breath, and he pauses halfway through undoing the laces of his trousers to huff a quiet laugh at the way her reverent eyes watch his every move.

He might as well put on a little show for her while he has her undivided attention. 

Astarion slides a hand over the sculpted muscles along his lower abdomen, fingers dripping just beneath the waistband of his pants. His eyes narrow, trained on Ysera's face as he takes his time undressing.

“Do you see,” he groans, hissing as the waistband of his pants and underwear brush over the weeping tip of his cock, “what you do to me? How badly I ache for you?” A fat bead of precome glides down the length of him, inciting her growing hunger. Saliva pools on her tongue, and she bites back a whimper as another wave of pleasure surges through her.

“Show me,” she says softly, a quiet, desperate plea. “Come and take your pleasure.”

She doesn't need to tell him twice. Astarion steps forward, catching the single beam of milky moonlight that spills in through the old planks nailed over the front windows. And just for a moment, Ysera almost forgets to breathe.

“How do you want me?” he asks, kneeling on the mattress at her feet. Ysera twists around, tucking a pillow below her stomach as she arches her back and spreads her legs wide. From this angle, Astarion can clearly see how eager she is to take him, thighs wet with the slick that drips obscenely from her waiting cunt.

“Hard,” she groans through gritted teeth. Her tail winds itself around his thigh, spaded tip twitching in anticipation. “Hard and deep.”

The husky growl in her voice sends a bolt of arousal straight through him, and Astarion's cock twitches with renewed interest. He strokes himself several times, stretching the soft foreskin over the swollen tip, a breathy, “A-ahh” slipping past his lips as the cool evening air caresses the arousal gathered there.

With one hand braced on the ample curve of her ass, Astarion guides himself forward, the blunt head of his cock barely slipping inside her before she moans and whines and rolls her hips against him. He pushes deeper, sheathing himself within her velvet heat, and although her body accommodates him with little resistance, she is still so fucking tight.

A low, satisfied groan builds in her throat, face pressed into the mattress as she adjusts to the fullness of him inside her. No matter how many times they've done this, each time feels like their first all over again, the delicious stretch of him as he fills her sending ripples of the sweetest pleasure coursing through her body.

“Fuck, Ysera,” Astarion groans, testing the feel of her with a few slow, shallow thrusts. Her walls pulse around him, encouraging him to fuck her harder, faster, just the way she wants.

And so he does.

Astarion snaps his hips forward, driving into her soaking cunt with every thrust, bottoming out each time he collides with the backs of her thighs. Ysera claws at the sheets, a string of oaths falling from her lips before she all but screams his name.

“That's my good girl,” Astarion praises her. “You're taking me so well, aren't you? Is this what you needed?”

Ysera fights to keep herself upright, her legs nearly buckling as he fucks into her hard and fast. He feels so good, so good, he's fucking her so good and she's already so close –

The hands anchored on her hips slowly slide up her back, fanning out over her shoulders before Astarion sinks them into the rosy pink waves of her hair. She lets out a choked sob when he wraps his hands around the base of her horns, holding her head aloft as he uses the extra leverage to find the sensitive spot deep inside her that makes her vision go white.

“Oh gods,” Ysera whines, her movements sluggish and clumsy as she shoves a hand between her legs and searches desperately for her clit. Astarion feels her fingers as they brush against the underside of his cock, and when she finally finds what she's looking for, it's only a matter of time before he makes her shatter.

“Come on my cock, Ysera,” he growls, primal and low. “Show me how good it feels. You can do that for me, can't you?”

“Yes,” she sobs, fingers rolling uncoordinated circles around her aching clit. “Yes, Astarion, yes…”

The pressure in her core is immense, a coiled spring waiting to snap, and when it finally becomes too much to bear, she loses herself completely, coming hard around him even as he refuses to slow his brutal pace. Astarion fucks her through her second climax, rolling his hips to push himself as deep as he can while her toes curl and she collapses, boneless, beneath him.

It's a miracle he doesn't tumble over the edge after her, her slick walls pulsing rhythmically with her racing heartbeat. His body fights him every step of the way, but he withdraws from her completely, and she whimpers in protest at the loss of him.

“Shhh,” he soothes, helping Ysera onto her back when she no longer has the strength to do so herself. “It's all right, love.”

Ysera's eyes are half-hooded and drowsy, and she struggles to look at him. The gnawing hunger she's felt for him ever since the battle seems to finally have been sated, and even though her body is utterly exhausted, it's her mind that has regained some sense of clarity.

“Astarion,” she calls out to him, reaching for his hands in the darkness. Astarion takes hers in his own, bringing her fingers to his mouth to press a series of tender kisses against the soft skin between her knuckles. 

“Yes, darling?”

“What about you?”

He purposely hadn't finished, preoccupied with making certain she was satisfied before chasing his own pleasure, despite what she had instructed him to do earlier. Ysera frowns when he shakes his head, turning her face away when he bends down to kiss her.

“You deserve to feel good too,” she murmurs, and although she's quiet Astarion can hear the stubborn insistence in her voice. 

“Is that what you want?”

“I want you to enjoy yourself,” she clarifies. The intensity of her gaze would have brought a flush to his cheeks were such a thing possible, and he lets out a resigned laugh.

“If you're certain.”

Ysera scrunches her nose and rolls her eyes, taking his face in her hands and pulling him into a kiss. Astarion's mouth falls open when her tongue runs across the seam of his mouth, and he lets her kiss him for as long as she wants, savoring the way he sighs contentedly against her.

“You're still worried about me,” she realizes, gazing up into the rich, wine-dark reds of his eyes. His expression softens with something like guilt, concern clearly visible across his features.

“Can you blame me?” Astarion asks, cupping her jaw with one hand as he bends down to kiss her again. “You didn't see yourself the way I did.”

“Whatever it was, it's gone,” she reassures him. “I'm fine, I promise. But that doesn't mean you have to stop… not if you don't want to.”

When Astarion sits up, his eyes travel down the length of his body. His cock has grown soft already, even though he still feels a lingering urge to bury himself inside her once more.

“Ah…” he says sheepishly, “about that.”

Ysera's gaze follows the same path, and she flashes him a wicked grin.

“Let me take care of that for you, darling.”

She takes his soft cock in her hand, working him back to full hardness as she strokes the full length of him. Astarion's cock swells beneath her eager fingers, filling her palm, and he tips his head back and releases a languid moan when Ysera's thumb brushes over his tip. 

“Better?” she asks, already knowing the answer. But she wants to hear it from him anyway.

“Yes,” Astarion groans, pushing her legs apart with his knee and settling between them. He flashes her a sly grin of his own. “You're absolutely insatiable, you know.”

“What can I say?” Ysera laughs, giddy and still a bit fuck-drunk. “I'm a woman who knows what she wants.”

“Oh?” Astarion purrs, lifting her leg beneath the knee and spreading her open. His cock is fully hard by the time he slides it through Ysera's still-slick folds, teasing but not breaching her entrance. “And what, pray tell, is that exactly?”

“You,” she says without hesitation, pulling him down for another passionate, breathless kiss. “Always you. Only you. For as long as you'll have me, I'm yours.”

Astarion groans in satisfaction as he slips back inside her warm, waiting cunt, dragging his cock against her walls as he fucks into her slow and deep, savoring the feel of her around him.

“Forever,” he promises, rolling his hips into her and drinking in her soft, breathy moans. “Forever. You have brought me more happiness than I deserve, more than I even thought possible.” He keeps his pace steady, stoking the heat that roars to life within him, taking his time as he slowly builds himself up to his inevitable end. He wants to stay like this forever, enveloped in her warmth, her scent, her touch.

“No,” Ysera protests, her chest rising and falling with each rapid, shallow breath she draws in. “You deserve everything and more, do you hear me? I love you, Astarion. I love you.”

Their eyes meet briefly before Astarion dips his head and murmurs something incoherent against the shell of her ear. The pace of his thrusts quickens, and before she can question him, Ysera hears his voice in her mind, connected through their tadpoles. She sees her face reflected in her mind’s eye, writhing beautifully beneath him, the full force of his emotions flooding into her.

I love you too. My darling. My dearest. 

Gathering her hands in his, Astarion lifts Ysera's arms over her head, splaying her body beneath him and pinning her to the mattress. She whimpers his name and arches her back, unable to hold back her cries of pleasure when he angles his hips to brush repeatedly against her sweet spot.

“Is it good?” she asks, the question tapering into another whimper. That familiar pressure is already building, and she knows she'll tumble over the edge with him when the moment comes.

“Always,” is his swift reply. “I'm almost there… gonna come for you, feels so good…”

Ysera throws her legs around the small of his back, holding him closer. Astarion follows her lead, burying himself deep inside her with rapid, erratic thrusts that quickly begin losing their rhythm.

He won't last much longer, helpless to do anything but follow that tug that pulls him towards the precipice of oblivion.

“Just a little further,” Ysera encourages him, the words muffled against his lips as she leans up to kiss him. “Wanna feel you come…”

Astarion finally lets go, coming with a deep, shuddering groan. He buries himself to the hilt with one last thrust as he empties himself inside her, filling her with his spend as she cries out and swiftly reaches her own peak yet again. Her walls flutter and clench around him, prompting a few last thrusts before he pulls out of her completely once she stills beneath him.

Ysera feels weightless and blissfully numb as Astarion collapses behind her on the bed, sticky with sweat and equally spent. The air inside the flat is warm and damp as she inhales deeply, the scent of roses and bergamot and sex permeating every breath she takes. 

They lay there for a moment as an easy silence falls over them, listening to the quiet sounds of the city outside. After a while, Ysera glances over her shoulder at Astarion, who's only just rolled over onto his side towards her.

“Do you think Karlach will be mad we didn't make it back on time?” she asks with an awkward little laugh.

Astarion's face breaks into a sly grin.

“Hardly. I'm sure she'll be absolutely delighted to help herself to your share of supper again.”

Ysera's head falls heavily onto her pillow, and she hums thoughtfully. “Hmm… you know what?” she concludes. “I think you're right. We're practically doing her a favor by being so late.”

Astarion's arm wraps around Ysera's stomach and he presses his lips against the curve of her spine as he chuckles in agreement. “Exactly, darling. Now come here. I'm not quite ready to let you go just yet.”

He pulls her flush against his body, their legs tangling together over the sheets. Her warmth makes him feel alive in ways he never thought he could again, and the way she scoots back against him and lays her hand over his is only one of half a dozen constant reminders of how lucky he is to have her.

Ysera's eyes feel impossibly heavy. She's in no mood to return to the Elfsong just yet, and Astarion has no intentions of spoiling the moment. Together they drift off, content to enjoy their time together for as long as fate will let them. 

────────────────

Ysera's not certain what wakes her first: the muffled voices outside the flat as the city springs to life, or the singular sunbeam that slowly sweeps across her sleeping face. She squeezes her eyes shut and scrunches her face, rolling over to escape the bright light. When her hand reaches out and connects with something solid, her eyes fly open, and she finds herself face to face with Astarion, still deep in his trance.

He looks to be resting peacefully, his face placid in a way she's so rarely seen before. A slight smile graces the corners of his lips; whatever he's seeing, it must be something pleasurable.

And then it hits her. Morning. It's morning. 

Oops.

Ysera is hesitant to disturb Astarion, but they really shouldn't stay, and not only because they're trespassing. She indulges in the planes of his face for just a while longer, unable to hold back her smile. The serenity suits him in a way none of his sly smirks and devilish grins ever could.

His body is soft and cool as she snuggles against him, tucking her head against his chest.

“Astarion,” she says softly. “Astarion, wake up. You shouldn't have let me sleep so long.”

Astarion's eyes flutter open, and he drapes an arm around her, pulling her close. “You're welcome, darling,” he murmurs, voice heavy with sleep.

She grumbles in protest but lets him pull her up for a kiss all the same, his lips satin-soft against her own.

“At this rate, Karlach's going to eat my breakfast too,” she groans, fixing him with a look of distress.

“How unfortunate,” Astarion drawls, dragging his lips over Ysera's jaw, where he presses them against the thrumming vein on her neck. He finds the familiar spot he prefers when feeding, the smoothed-over scars that adorn the soft skin there. “Luckily for me, mine seems to have been delivered directly to me.”

“Oh no you don't,” Ysera huffs, palms flat against his chest as she pushes him away. “Keep those fangs to yourself.”

She rolls to the edge of the bed, Astarion's arm chasing after her in vain. He whines something about her being cruel, how he'll surely starve now that she's denied him his meal.

“I'll be lucky to make it back, even with all my blood,” she says, throwing a pout over her shoulder as she slips back into her clothes. “If I don't get something to eat soon, I think I might actually die.”

Astarion joins her before long, arms encircling her waist from behind as he rests his chin atop the crown of her head between her horns. He sighs into her hair, chuckling softly.

“We can't very well have that, now, can we?”

Ysera slips her hand into his, pulling Astarion towards the door and into the morning light. He follows her happily, basking in the sun's rays as the pleasant warmth seeps into his skin.

“After you, darling.”

I thought I'd reblog this with some screenshots from this chapter! These are some of my faves so far!

With Stars to Fill My Dream (1 & 2)

IT'S FINALLY TIME!!!!! I have taken a deep breath, poured over these two damn chapters all day, and I'm finally ready to upload!! 🖤 Special thanks to all the hype I got from this gang- I love them so much 🖤 Thank you for hyping me every step of the way!

@preciouslittlebhaalbae @inkymoonbunny @verbenaa @justabiteofspite @elinorbard @ladyduellist @bhaalsdeepbat @sashitf

Please enjoy Ofelia, my idiotic Earthling Tav/OC, trying to survive and make friends in Faerun after getting kidnapped from her realm! This is a fun, sometimes dark and angsty isekai adventure- what would happen if BG3 wasn't a thing on Earth, or D&D? How would you fare?

Opening of Chapter 1: Chasing Rabbits under the cut!

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count for Both 1 & 2 Combined: 12,093

When logic and proportion,

Have fallen sloppy dead.

And the white knight is talking backwards

And the red queen’s off with her head

Remember what the dormouse said

Feed your head…

***

An eerie quiet moves through the streets, cars fewer and farther between than normal. An unsettling feeling crawls over Ofelia’s skin and she shrugs her coat closer to her body, warding the night air off as she turns down a familiar alley. Her tiny apartment window glints at the end of the shadowed corridor and she grins, reaching into her pack to step back into her rollerblades. This last stretch has always been the most fun, and perhaps it’s the trepidation hanging in the night, but a smile and some exhilaration seem like the perfect medicine. She just has to get home, kick start her weekend with a cocktail and a good book, and tomorrow she’ll finally be able to adopt the cat of her dreams.

With the last lace tied, she secures her skirt and hunches over, preparing to rocket down the alleyway. She feels her muscles tense, sets her jaw- prepares to beat her personal best. She can taste the moisture in the air and the warning of the impending storm approaching, feels it in her bones as she mentally counts down.

3… 2… 1…

She never moves. Something flickers out of the corner of her eye, large and black and hulking in the night. It roils and undulates in the sky above the city, sweeping over the buildings like a dark tidal wave. She doesn’t have time to scream when the mass careens towards her, doesn’t have time to raise her arms in defense of a hit that never comes. She’s only greeted with total black as her world spins out of control and she falls unconscious.

snippet sunday 🖋️

thanks to @khywren and @xxnashiraxx for tagging me earlier this week for wip wednesday but since I'm a little late it's now snippet sunday 😅.

I had hoped to get chapter 8 of to eden posted over the weekend but I have been in NYC the past week and drastically overestimated the amount of energy I would have at night for writing after walking all around the city during the day. but I am back home and now back to writing, I think I'll be good to post by this coming weekend~

ANYWAY since it's taking me so long, please enjoy some smut 🤭😏

She’s terribly close when his mouth leaves her, and she mourns the loss of his tongue for mere seconds before he fills her with fingers that press urgently, curling just right as his lips kiss their way to her thigh. “Do it.” She spreads wider for him, and she can hear his satisfied hum against her skin before he opens his mouth and sinks his teeth in the soft flesh of her inner thigh. The familiar ice of his bite hurts far too good, the icy pain warring against the heat surging through her body as he drinks from her, blood running in scarlet rivulets down her thigh to stain the worn blanket beneath her. Astarion’s messy as he drinks, her hips writhing in time with the fingers still artfully working inside her. Her back arches as she tries to quiet her cry, a fist curling into the blanket beneath her. The metallic scent of iron tinges the air of the tent as he drinks and Rin can’t help the moan that fall from her open mouth at the feeling of his lips on her skin, sucking and licking and—gods, kissing.  “There, please.” His fingers hit perfectly over and over again and her thighs tremble. “Please don’t stop.” Astarion sucks hard at the bite as she begs, fingers keeping pace with the movement of her hips as he drinks down another surge of her blood. With only a few more presses of his fingers, curving just right to hit exactly where she needs him.

tagginggggg @elinorbard @ladyduellist @inkymoonbunny @preciouslittlebhaalbae @khywren @xxnashiraxx and anyone else who wants to join in because I can't think (too much smut writing SORRY ABOUT IT)