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Sunday Snippet!

Thank you for tagging me @verbenaa & @khywren !!! 🩷❤️🩷❤️🩷❤️

I just posted chapter 9, but I feel like a little teeny bit more is due since Astarion and Ofelia left off on bad terms for this most recent chapter.

Please enjoy these 2 idiots not understanding how friendships work.

“You can be a bit overwhelming with this whole caring act, you know.” His voice is tired yet still posh and she scoffs.

“It’s not an act, Astarion. I actually give a fuck, believe it or not.” She’s sure to place some humor beneath the words, trying to be the least bit abrasive as possible. He’s like a wounded animal when he isn’t nibbling at her neck, which makes her wonder if that still means he’s like an animal anyway… “Do you not want to talk about it?” She prods a little harder, tucking the lute onto her back. With the sun fully set the air begins to cool, and Ofelia sighs as a breeze drifts by, relishing in the temperature change at last.

“Fine, darling.” He concedes, his pout almost cute. “Drinking from thinking creatures comes with strings I hadn’t anticipated. Is that what you’d like to hear?” Her curiosity is definitely piqued.

“What kind of strings?” He stares at her, not answering, his eyes strange and what she can only describe as contemplative.

“When I was turned by Cazador, I started to lose everything from when I was alive.” He crowds a bit into her space as he weaves the mental image, his tone imposing and melancholy. “I can’t remember anything except the days leading up to it. I barely even remember my name.” There’s hurt in his voice, but he still seems so guarded that it’s hard to tell if he’s opening the door or holding it closed. “Until you.”

Tagging all you amazing people 🩷❤️

@preciouslittlebhaalbae @ladyduellist @elinorbard @justabiteofspite @roguishcat @allymcfee @inkymoonbunny

With Stars to Fill My Dream (9) - Darkness Helps Us All to Shine

Hi everyone!! Chapter 9 is here! ❤❤

Please forgive me for the lack of Karlach screenshots, I thought I'd have gotten them by now but life has been a little crazy so I haven't been able to fix up my game and mods since Patch 7 released. 💗

Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

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: 7,352

Opening under the cut!

Ofelia stares into the flames as she warms her hands, listening to her companions getting ready and packing up for the day before they start to filter out.

She hadn’t slept a wink. She’d been torturing herself over and over with the thought that if she did, she’d find them all standing around her, demanding she leave when she woke up. The idea of going out alone in this world had been enough to wire her nerves and keep her alert, even when the rest of the clearing was as silent as death.

Ofelia pokes at the logs in the fire, watching Wyll cross the camp towards her. She regards him warily, concerned at his intentional approach.

“Morning,” He smiles, sitting beside her. He gives her some room, tension hovering in the air between them. He doesn’t look angry, or distrustful. With his face so open, she almost feels more terrified. Many meetings with case workers had prepared her for the sickly sweet words and body language that preceded her removal from a foster home. Usually through deliberate fault of her own, so she can’t really complain.

“Hi.” She mutters, setting the stick she’d been holding down on a stone to dangle over the flames. Her voice is defensive, measured. It’s been a while since she’s had to use this inflection.

The chill still clings to her and she shrugs the spare blanket up over her shoulders, watching Wyll tap his knee before snapping and searching his pockets. He pulls a small brown package out and unwraps the cloth, revealing a wedge of cheese within. He motions to it, indicating that he’d like to share, and she nods, watching him pull his knife out to cut a piece off and hold it out to her. She takes it carefully, not one to pass on cheese, even if it’s a bit of a placating gift before he brings the hammer down. Once she places the pad of it on her tongue, she hums in approval- it reminds her of sharp cheddar and with a small sting to her eyes she nibbles on the rest.

With Stars to Fill My Dream (9) - Darkness Helps Us All to Shine

Hi everyone!! Chapter 9 is here! ❤❤

Please forgive me for the lack of Karlach screenshots, I thought I'd have gotten them by now but life has been a little crazy so I haven't been able to fix up my game and mods since Patch 7 released. 💗

Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

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: 7,352

Opening under the cut!

Ofelia stares into the flames as she warms her hands, listening to her companions getting ready and packing up for the day before they start to filter out.

She hadn’t slept a wink. She’d been torturing herself over and over with the thought that if she did, she’d find them all standing around her, demanding she leave when she woke up. The idea of going out alone in this world had been enough to wire her nerves and keep her alert, even when the rest of the clearing was as silent as death.

Ofelia pokes at the logs in the fire, watching Wyll cross the camp towards her. She regards him warily, concerned at his intentional approach.

“Morning,” He smiles, sitting beside her. He gives her some room, tension hovering in the air between them. He doesn’t look angry, or distrustful. With his face so open, she almost feels more terrified. Many meetings with case workers had prepared her for the sickly sweet words and body language that preceded her removal from a foster home. Usually through deliberate fault of her own, so she can’t really complain.

“Hi.” She mutters, setting the stick she’d been holding down on a stone to dangle over the flames. Her voice is defensive, measured. It’s been a while since she’s had to use this inflection.

The chill still clings to her and she shrugs the spare blanket up over her shoulders, watching Wyll tap his knee before snapping and searching his pockets. He pulls a small brown package out and unwraps the cloth, revealing a wedge of cheese within. He motions to it, indicating that he’d like to share, and she nods, watching him pull his knife out to cut a piece off and hold it out to her. She takes it carefully, not one to pass on cheese, even if it’s a bit of a placating gift before he brings the hammer down. Once she places the pad of it on her tongue, she hums in approval- it reminds her of sharp cheddar and with a small sting to her eyes she nibbles on the rest.

So... I thought chapter 10 was all squared away. I was wrong- rewriting in progress!!

With Stars to Fill My Dream (9) - Darkness Helps Us All to Shine

Hi everyone!! Chapter 9 is here! ❤❤

Please forgive me for the lack of Karlach screenshots, I thought I'd have gotten them by now but life has been a little crazy so I haven't been able to fix up my game and mods since Patch 7 released. 💗

Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

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: 7,352

Opening under the cut!

Ofelia stares into the flames as she warms her hands, listening to her companions getting ready and packing up for the day before they start to filter out.

She hadn’t slept a wink. She’d been torturing herself over and over with the thought that if she did, she’d find them all standing around her, demanding she leave when she woke up. The idea of going out alone in this world had been enough to wire her nerves and keep her alert, even when the rest of the clearing was as silent as death.

Ofelia pokes at the logs in the fire, watching Wyll cross the camp towards her. She regards him warily, concerned at his intentional approach.

“Morning,” He smiles, sitting beside her. He gives her some room, tension hovering in the air between them. He doesn’t look angry, or distrustful. With his face so open, she almost feels more terrified. Many meetings with case workers had prepared her for the sickly sweet words and body language that preceded her removal from a foster home. Usually through deliberate fault of her own, so she can’t really complain.

“Hi.” She mutters, setting the stick she’d been holding down on a stone to dangle over the flames. Her voice is defensive, measured. It’s been a while since she’s had to use this inflection.

The chill still clings to her and she shrugs the spare blanket up over her shoulders, watching Wyll tap his knee before snapping and searching his pockets. He pulls a small brown package out and unwraps the cloth, revealing a wedge of cheese within. He motions to it, indicating that he’d like to share, and she nods, watching him pull his knife out to cut a piece off and hold it out to her. She takes it carefully, not one to pass on cheese, even if it’s a bit of a placating gift before he brings the hammer down. Once she places the pad of it on her tongue, she hums in approval- it reminds her of sharp cheddar and with a small sting to her eyes she nibbles on the rest.

Chapter 10 is back on track thanks to my lovely friend @preciouslittlebhaalbae ❤️❤️❤️❤️

We are now cooking!

With Stars to Fill My Dream (9) - Darkness Helps Us All to Shine

Hi everyone!! Chapter 9 is here! ❤❤

Please forgive me for the lack of Karlach screenshots, I thought I'd have gotten them by now but life has been a little crazy so I haven't been able to fix up my game and mods since Patch 7 released. 💗

Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

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: 7,352

Opening under the cut!

Ofelia stares into the flames as she warms her hands, listening to her companions getting ready and packing up for the day before they start to filter out.

She hadn’t slept a wink. She’d been torturing herself over and over with the thought that if she did, she’d find them all standing around her, demanding she leave when she woke up. The idea of going out alone in this world had been enough to wire her nerves and keep her alert, even when the rest of the clearing was as silent as death.

Ofelia pokes at the logs in the fire, watching Wyll cross the camp towards her. She regards him warily, concerned at his intentional approach.

“Morning,” He smiles, sitting beside her. He gives her some room, tension hovering in the air between them. He doesn’t look angry, or distrustful. With his face so open, she almost feels more terrified. Many meetings with case workers had prepared her for the sickly sweet words and body language that preceded her removal from a foster home. Usually through deliberate fault of her own, so she can’t really complain.

“Hi.” She mutters, setting the stick she’d been holding down on a stone to dangle over the flames. Her voice is defensive, measured. It’s been a while since she’s had to use this inflection.

The chill still clings to her and she shrugs the spare blanket up over her shoulders, watching Wyll tap his knee before snapping and searching his pockets. He pulls a small brown package out and unwraps the cloth, revealing a wedge of cheese within. He motions to it, indicating that he’d like to share, and she nods, watching him pull his knife out to cut a piece off and hold it out to her. She takes it carefully, not one to pass on cheese, even if it’s a bit of a placating gift before he brings the hammer down. Once she places the pad of it on her tongue, she hums in approval- it reminds her of sharp cheddar and with a small sting to her eyes she nibbles on the rest.

Pre-WIP Wednesday

I'm slamming my fist down on my desk and gifting you all a snippet from the next chapter- I am not fucking around with this one, it's time for the yearning to begin. 💗

“Well!” She slaps his upper arm with enough force to make him jump, plastering a bright smile over her face. “What else are friends for?” She slips out from under him while he’s still surprised, gleefully prancing over to a patch of flowers when she spots them- bright white daisies, shining like salvation from beneath a scraggly tree. Her mama’s old wildflower book comes to mind like a saving grace, and for some reason, the section on flowers and their meanings floats back through her memories. “Here.” She scoops some up and presses them into his hands, earning another confused look. “What are these for?” He analyzes the petals as if they’ll speak up and she smiles, feeling her anxiety leech down into the earth. “They’re symbolic- and I’m really impressed that they’re growing here.” Her heart finally starts to slow back into a normal pace, fingers resting over the stems of the ones that he cradles in his palms. “They’re meant to convey friendship and trust when they’re given to another person.” She carefully closes his hands around them, the soft smile of nostalgia covering her mouth. “Stuff like that meant a lot to my parents- my first parents. And it means a lot to me, too. Even if it’s kind of silly.” He holds them up, closer to his face, before flashing her an oddly strained expression. He looks like he’s trying to make sense of her, and perhaps he is. She’d slammed the brakes and veered into a completely different direction than where he’d been taking them, but if she let him keep going she would have made a proper fool out of herself and that’s not a show she’d like to put on right now. Or ever. “Uh… thank you. Darling. I think.” She watches him lift a stem to his collar before tucking one of the flowers into the neckline. It looks pretty with his hair and she feels her cheeks flush again, moreover bashful that she’s considering him pretty in the first place. “Here,” He echoes her, stepping forward. She flushes harder, letting him tuck a stem behind her ear as he chases the wavy lock to her neck. His palm lingers over it for a moment, a vague longing passing over his eyes before he meets hers and pays her a charming smile. His hand falls back to his side, and her skin tingles beneath the collar of her armor, yearning for the contact, yet embarrassed for wanting it all the same. “Thanks,” She clears her throat, hearing their companions beginning to crest the ridge. Dread falls heavily over her mind as she meets his eyes, a rock sitting in her stomach. It’s too much to think about right now. But he doesn’t seem to notice, and she exhales the breath she’d been holding when they finally turn to meet them.  Everything’s… just fine.

Tagging my loves 💗 I miss you guys 🫂

@preciouslittlebhaalbae @verbenaa @inkymoonbunny @khywren @ladyduellist @elinorbard @justabiteofspite @roguishcat @pinkberrytea

WIP Wednesday!

Thank you @xxnashiraxx for tagging me (your WIP was so good - I'm so excited!) and everyone who has tagged me over the past Snippet Sunday and WIP Wednesday! I love getting to see all of your WIPs and I'm always excited to actually have something to share on the actual day lol.

Here is part of a WIP for chapter 13 of my bg3 isekai, Indelible Imprints! 💖

You can read chapters 1-12 on Ao3 or through the pinned post on my blog!

Tagging 💖: @justabiteofspite @elinorbard @ladyduellist @bhaalsdeepbat @verbenaa @inkymoonbunny @sashitf @roguishcat @kalmiaphlox @chaoticbardlady99 @celaenamyers if you all have something to share! 💖

"when I vowed we'd save you: we will save you."

Friday Snippet/WIP Whenever

I like it when he's a creepy undead creature ❤🦇🩸

Felt like updating again! I'm now working on Chapter 11- on a roll!

WARNING: Just a bit bloody?

She does the only thing she can think of to shut him up and slashes down the center of her forearm, wincing from the pain as a river of red gushes from the cut and runs down her angled arm into her palm. “Nice warning,” He mutters, nostrils flared and eyes that pretty, bright crimson. His fangs are digging into his lower lip and he looks like he’s fighting an invisible battle as he tilts the cup and lets her dangle her hand over it. Drip. Drop. He paints a vivid picture of the undead- menacing and frozen. The uncanny pale of his skin and the way his chest remains still, free of breath, makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. There’s a soft wheezing noise and she’s drawn back to the way his pupils unnaturally fluctuate, jaw shifting back and forth unconsciously. “Astarion… are you breathing?” He startles and looks up at her, gasping around an inhale as it creaks through his hollow lungs. “I wasn’t… can’t, really… it smells too strong.” She nods, pitying his state, as her blood slowly starts to fill the chalice. A bright idea flashes through her mind, too fast to catch up to logical thinking, and she quickly anchors the razor between her teeth before breathing deeply and swiping the sharp edge against her thumb. He watches intently, every muscle taught, but she squeezes the flesh until blood seeps out of the cut. “Open up,” He obeys, lips parting as scarlet fluid starts to weep from the wound and drip onto his tongue. A full-body shiver runs down his limbs, his dark lashes fluttering shut over his cheeks. Hers burn at the way he swallows, his hands trembling and his chest finally beginning to rise and fall. His free one comes up, presses her thumb to his mouth, and gently licks until the bleeding stops. It lights some kind of forbidden, hungry feeling inside her, and she makes a muffled whine of frustration before he brings the cup to his lips and drinks.

Tagging you all again if you've got more fun stuff to share! 🖤

@verbenaa @inkymoonbunny @khywren @preciouslittlebhaalbae @ladyduellist @justabiteofspite @elinorbard @pinkberrytea @kalmiaphlox @roguishcat @sashitf @bhaalsdeepbat

Friday Snippet/WIP Whenever

I like it when he's a creepy undead creature ❤🦇🩸

Felt like updating again! I'm now working on Chapter 11- on a roll!

WARNING: Just a bit bloody?

She does the only thing she can think of to shut him up and slashes down the center of her forearm, wincing from the pain as a river of red gushes from the cut and runs down her angled arm into her palm. “Nice warning,” He mutters, nostrils flared and eyes that pretty, bright crimson. His fangs are digging into his lower lip and he looks like he’s fighting an invisible battle as he tilts the cup and lets her dangle her hand over it. Drip. Drop. He paints a vivid picture of the undead- menacing and frozen. The uncanny pale of his skin and the way his chest remains still, free of breath, makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. There’s a soft wheezing noise and she’s drawn back to the way his pupils unnaturally fluctuate, jaw shifting back and forth unconsciously. “Astarion… are you breathing?” He startles and looks up at her, gasping around an inhale as it creaks through his hollow lungs. “I wasn’t… can’t, really… it smells too strong.” She nods, pitying his state, as her blood slowly starts to fill the chalice. A bright idea flashes through her mind, too fast to catch up to logical thinking, and she quickly anchors the razor between her teeth before breathing deeply and swiping the sharp edge against her thumb. He watches intently, every muscle taught, but she squeezes the flesh until blood seeps out of the cut. “Open up,” He obeys, lips parting as scarlet fluid starts to weep from the wound and drip onto his tongue. A full-body shiver runs down his limbs, his dark lashes fluttering shut over his cheeks. Hers burn at the way he swallows, his hands trembling and his chest finally beginning to rise and fall. His free one comes up, presses her thumb to his mouth, and gently licks until the bleeding stops. It lights some kind of forbidden, hungry feeling inside her, and she makes a muffled whine of frustration before he brings the cup to his lips and drinks.

Tagging you all again if you've got more fun stuff to share! 🖤

@verbenaa @inkymoonbunny @khywren @preciouslittlebhaalbae @ladyduellist @justabiteofspite @elinorbard @pinkberrytea @kalmiaphlox @roguishcat @sashitf @bhaalsdeepbat

Mauria (Tav) and Astarion are so broken, they deserve each other. 

Chapter 10 coming out soon!!! Have some pics of Karlach I meant to share with Chapter 9 but wasn't able to. ❤️

I don't know what to do about the quality, I may need to get a better picture editing thingy. 🔥

With Stars to Fill My Dream (9) - Darkness Helps Us All to Shine

Hi everyone!! Chapter 9 is here! ❤❤

Please forgive me for the lack of Karlach screenshots, I thought I'd have gotten them by now but life has been a little crazy so I haven't been able to fix up my game and mods since Patch 7 released. 💗

Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

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: 7,352

Opening under the cut!

Ofelia stares into the flames as she warms her hands, listening to her companions getting ready and packing up for the day before they start to filter out.

She hadn’t slept a wink. She’d been torturing herself over and over with the thought that if she did, she’d find them all standing around her, demanding she leave when she woke up. The idea of going out alone in this world had been enough to wire her nerves and keep her alert, even when the rest of the clearing was as silent as death.

Ofelia pokes at the logs in the fire, watching Wyll cross the camp towards her. She regards him warily, concerned at his intentional approach.

“Morning,” He smiles, sitting beside her. He gives her some room, tension hovering in the air between them. He doesn’t look angry, or distrustful. With his face so open, she almost feels more terrified. Many meetings with case workers had prepared her for the sickly sweet words and body language that preceded her removal from a foster home. Usually through deliberate fault of her own, so she can’t really complain.

“Hi.” She mutters, setting the stick she’d been holding down on a stone to dangle over the flames. Her voice is defensive, measured. It’s been a while since she’s had to use this inflection.

The chill still clings to her and she shrugs the spare blanket up over her shoulders, watching Wyll tap his knee before snapping and searching his pockets. He pulls a small brown package out and unwraps the cloth, revealing a wedge of cheese within. He motions to it, indicating that he’d like to share, and she nods, watching him pull his knife out to cut a piece off and hold it out to her. She takes it carefully, not one to pass on cheese, even if it’s a bit of a placating gift before he brings the hammer down. Once she places the pad of it on her tongue, she hums in approval- it reminds her of sharp cheddar and with a small sting to her eyes she nibbles on the rest.

With Stars to Fill My Dream (10) - Let the Dystopian Morning Light Pour In

EVERYBODY!!! 🖤🖤 We've made it to Chapter 10!! I am so happy we've gotten this far! I don't think I've ever made it this far with my writing, and I'm really proud of myself and my perseverance- I care so much about this story and its characters, and I have so much more material written with no end to my inspiration and motivation in sight! I hope this train keeps rolling full steam ahead because I've made so many friends on this journey and I wouldn't be here without them! 🖤🖤

Anyway, I'll quit my yapping so you can enjoy the chapter! Please see some bonus screenshots below!

(P.S. The screenshots are meant to be enjoyed from afar because my editing stuff is not so good. 🖤🖤)

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: 9,053

Opening under the cut!

Their group scatters to the winds to check out stalls and mill about as Ofelia and Alfira discuss a few lessons she can learn right away. Wyll and Lae’zel join Karlach and they descend to the blacksmith’s area, Astarion hangs off to the side, not quite in the circle with the two bards but not a part of it. Gale and Shadowheart head off to the apothecary and general goods vendor for potion ingredients and food supplies and in the meantime, Ofelia learns. She learns until her fingers hurt from overuse and twilight begins to overtake the evening sky. The ache is a pleasant reminder that she’s nailed a few spells, her delight overshadowing any exhaustion.

“Can I try one on you?” Ofelia attempts an icebreaker as she walks up beside Astarion, gesturing to her lute. He’s leaning against the weathered rock with his eyes closed, pretending like he hadn’t heard her. If she can free them from whatever rut it is that they’ve been stuck in, she’d like to try.

“I learned Bardic Inspiration, it might be a good idea to practice my skills-”

“Absolutely not.” He mutters sharply, lids still closed. She frowns.

“You’ve been nothing but cold to me all day. I’m sorry about Shadowheart, but whatever this-” She waves her hand in front of him though he can’t see it. “-is, it’s got to stop. The others are starting to notice.” Her voice is like a blade, slicing through his nonchalant demeanor. His eyes snap open and he glares at her- it makes her flinch gently, and it’s clear he notices.

“Let them,” He turns, walking down the ridge and she follows, anger boiling in her blood.

“What’s going on?” She shouts, grateful to be away from her tiefling teacher as he stalks toward the hillside. “What have I done to you? I’m sorry I almost killed you- I didn’t mean to! I couldn’t control it! What happened from when you left me at the river to this morning? What did I do?” She can’t keep the hot rush of emotion from pouring over her words to coat them in betrayal. What happened? They were conversing so easily yesterday- he’d been a bit bristly about her intentions to provide him with her blood, but she thought they’d at least come to an understanding…

“Nothing!” He growls, throwing his pack down on the ground to stake a claim on the dirt he stands upon. “All you do is suffocate me with your kindness- why? Do you like taking pity on a monster? I hate being treated like a charity case.” She freezes, stiff and stung. When she takes a soft step back, he glares at her and she feels herself shrink.

What spurred this on?

If anyone should be considering themselves a monster, it’s her.

With Stars to Fill My Dream (10) - Let the Dystopian Morning Light Pour In

EVERYBODY!!! 🖤🖤 We've made it to Chapter 10!! I am so happy we've gotten this far! I don't think I've ever made it this far with my writing, and I'm really proud of myself and my perseverance- I care so much about this story and its characters, and I have so much more material written with no end to my inspiration and motivation in sight! I hope this train keeps rolling full steam ahead because I've made so many friends on this journey and I wouldn't be here without them! 🖤🖤

Anyway, I'll quit my yapping so you can enjoy the chapter! Please see some bonus screenshots below!

(P.S. The screenshots are meant to be enjoyed from afar because my editing stuff is not so good. 🖤🖤)

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: 9,053

Opening under the cut!

Their group scatters to the winds to check out stalls and mill about as Ofelia and Alfira discuss a few lessons she can learn right away. Wyll and Lae’zel join Karlach and they descend to the blacksmith’s area, Astarion hangs off to the side, not quite in the circle with the two bards but not a part of it. Gale and Shadowheart head off to the apothecary and general goods vendor for potion ingredients and food supplies and in the meantime, Ofelia learns. She learns until her fingers hurt from overuse and twilight begins to overtake the evening sky. The ache is a pleasant reminder that she’s nailed a few spells, her delight overshadowing any exhaustion.

“Can I try one on you?” Ofelia attempts an icebreaker as she walks up beside Astarion, gesturing to her lute. He’s leaning against the weathered rock with his eyes closed, pretending like he hadn’t heard her. If she can free them from whatever rut it is that they’ve been stuck in, she’d like to try.

“I learned Bardic Inspiration, it might be a good idea to practice my skills-”

“Absolutely not.” He mutters sharply, lids still closed. She frowns.

“You’ve been nothing but cold to me all day. I’m sorry about Shadowheart, but whatever this-” She waves her hand in front of him though he can’t see it. “-is, it’s got to stop. The others are starting to notice.” Her voice is like a blade, slicing through his nonchalant demeanor. His eyes snap open and he glares at her- it makes her flinch gently, and it’s clear he notices.

“Let them,” He turns, walking down the ridge and she follows, anger boiling in her blood.

“What’s going on?” She shouts, grateful to be away from her tiefling teacher as he stalks toward the hillside. “What have I done to you? I’m sorry I almost killed you- I didn’t mean to! I couldn’t control it! What happened from when you left me at the river to this morning? What did I do?” She can’t keep the hot rush of emotion from pouring over her words to coat them in betrayal. What happened? They were conversing so easily yesterday- he’d been a bit bristly about her intentions to provide him with her blood, but she thought they’d at least come to an understanding…

“Nothing!” He growls, throwing his pack down on the ground to stake a claim on the dirt he stands upon. “All you do is suffocate me with your kindness- why? Do you like taking pity on a monster? I hate being treated like a charity case.” She freezes, stiff and stung. When she takes a soft step back, he glares at her and she feels herself shrink.

What spurred this on?

If anyone should be considering themselves a monster, it’s her.

LOOK!!! THEY'RE HUGGING!!! LIKE IN THE CHAPTER!!!

hehehehehe they're so cute 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 I made this 🥰

With Stars to Fill My Dream (10) - Let the Dystopian Morning Light Pour In

EVERYBODY!!! 🖤🖤 We've made it to Chapter 10!! I am so happy we've gotten this far! I don't think I've ever made it this far with my writing, and I'm really proud of myself and my perseverance- I care so much about this story and its characters, and I have so much more material written with no end to my inspiration and motivation in sight! I hope this train keeps rolling full steam ahead because I've made so many friends on this journey and I wouldn't be here without them! 🖤🖤

Anyway, I'll quit my yapping so you can enjoy the chapter! Please see some bonus screenshots below!

(P.S. The screenshots are meant to be enjoyed from afar because my editing stuff is not so good. 🖤🖤)

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: 9,053

Opening under the cut!

Their group scatters to the winds to check out stalls and mill about as Ofelia and Alfira discuss a few lessons she can learn right away. Wyll and Lae’zel join Karlach and they descend to the blacksmith’s area, Astarion hangs off to the side, not quite in the circle with the two bards but not a part of it. Gale and Shadowheart head off to the apothecary and general goods vendor for potion ingredients and food supplies and in the meantime, Ofelia learns. She learns until her fingers hurt from overuse and twilight begins to overtake the evening sky. The ache is a pleasant reminder that she’s nailed a few spells, her delight overshadowing any exhaustion.

“Can I try one on you?” Ofelia attempts an icebreaker as she walks up beside Astarion, gesturing to her lute. He’s leaning against the weathered rock with his eyes closed, pretending like he hadn’t heard her. If she can free them from whatever rut it is that they’ve been stuck in, she’d like to try.

“I learned Bardic Inspiration, it might be a good idea to practice my skills-”

“Absolutely not.” He mutters sharply, lids still closed. She frowns.

“You’ve been nothing but cold to me all day. I’m sorry about Shadowheart, but whatever this-” She waves her hand in front of him though he can’t see it. “-is, it’s got to stop. The others are starting to notice.” Her voice is like a blade, slicing through his nonchalant demeanor. His eyes snap open and he glares at her- it makes her flinch gently, and it’s clear he notices.

“Let them,” He turns, walking down the ridge and she follows, anger boiling in her blood.

“What’s going on?” She shouts, grateful to be away from her tiefling teacher as he stalks toward the hillside. “What have I done to you? I’m sorry I almost killed you- I didn’t mean to! I couldn’t control it! What happened from when you left me at the river to this morning? What did I do?” She can’t keep the hot rush of emotion from pouring over her words to coat them in betrayal. What happened? They were conversing so easily yesterday- he’d been a bit bristly about her intentions to provide him with her blood, but she thought they’d at least come to an understanding…

“Nothing!” He growls, throwing his pack down on the ground to stake a claim on the dirt he stands upon. “All you do is suffocate me with your kindness- why? Do you like taking pity on a monster? I hate being treated like a charity case.” She freezes, stiff and stung. When she takes a soft step back, he glares at her and she feels herself shrink.

What spurred this on?

If anyone should be considering themselves a monster, it’s her.

With Stars to Fill My Dream (10) - Let the Dystopian Morning Light Pour In

EVERYBODY!!! 🖤🖤 We've made it to Chapter 10!! I am so happy we've gotten this far! I don't think I've ever made it this far with my writing, and I'm really proud of myself and my perseverance- I care so much about this story and its characters, and I have so much more material written with no end to my inspiration and motivation in sight! I hope this train keeps rolling full steam ahead because I've made so many friends on this journey and I wouldn't be here without them! 🖤🖤

Anyway, I'll quit my yapping so you can enjoy the chapter! Please see some bonus screenshots below!

(P.S. The screenshots are meant to be enjoyed from afar because my editing stuff is not so good. 🖤🖤)

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: 9,053

Opening under the cut!

Their group scatters to the winds to check out stalls and mill about as Ofelia and Alfira discuss a few lessons she can learn right away. Wyll and Lae’zel join Karlach and they descend to the blacksmith’s area, Astarion hangs off to the side, not quite in the circle with the two bards but not a part of it. Gale and Shadowheart head off to the apothecary and general goods vendor for potion ingredients and food supplies and in the meantime, Ofelia learns. She learns until her fingers hurt from overuse and twilight begins to overtake the evening sky. The ache is a pleasant reminder that she’s nailed a few spells, her delight overshadowing any exhaustion.

“Can I try one on you?” Ofelia attempts an icebreaker as she walks up beside Astarion, gesturing to her lute. He’s leaning against the weathered rock with his eyes closed, pretending like he hadn’t heard her. If she can free them from whatever rut it is that they’ve been stuck in, she’d like to try.

“I learned Bardic Inspiration, it might be a good idea to practice my skills-”

“Absolutely not.” He mutters sharply, lids still closed. She frowns.

“You’ve been nothing but cold to me all day. I’m sorry about Shadowheart, but whatever this-” She waves her hand in front of him though he can’t see it. “-is, it’s got to stop. The others are starting to notice.” Her voice is like a blade, slicing through his nonchalant demeanor. His eyes snap open and he glares at her- it makes her flinch gently, and it’s clear he notices.

“Let them,” He turns, walking down the ridge and she follows, anger boiling in her blood.

“What’s going on?” She shouts, grateful to be away from her tiefling teacher as he stalks toward the hillside. “What have I done to you? I’m sorry I almost killed you- I didn’t mean to! I couldn’t control it! What happened from when you left me at the river to this morning? What did I do?” She can’t keep the hot rush of emotion from pouring over her words to coat them in betrayal. What happened? They were conversing so easily yesterday- he’d been a bit bristly about her intentions to provide him with her blood, but she thought they’d at least come to an understanding…

“Nothing!” He growls, throwing his pack down on the ground to stake a claim on the dirt he stands upon. “All you do is suffocate me with your kindness- why? Do you like taking pity on a monster? I hate being treated like a charity case.” She freezes, stiff and stung. When she takes a soft step back, he glares at her and she feels herself shrink.

What spurred this on?

If anyone should be considering themselves a monster, it’s her.

Kinktober 2024 Day 1: Mirror Sex

pairing: Astarion/f! Tav | Astarion/f!OC (Ysera) rating: 18+ MDNI word count: 4.3k tags/warnings: piv sex, fingering, established relationship, porn with feelings, soft Astarion ──────── summary: Astarion watches the way her face lights up as she speaks about him, affection for her warring with the disappointment he feels that she doesn't extend that same kindness to herself, that she either cannot or does not see herself the way he does. It's a feeling he's all too familiar with. He knows the way those kind of thoughts can fester. If he does nothing else tonight, it will be to ensure that she never has cause to doubt herself like this again. AO3 ┊ kinktober 2024 masterlist

Ysera's never been to a fancy ball before. Wyll himself had dropped by their home the week prior at the behest of his father, inviting both her and Astarion to the High Hall to celebrate the one year anniversary of the fall of the Netherbrain. “A most regal affair,” he had called it, a night full of celebration, dancing, and feasting.

Ysera had gladly accepted Wyll’s invitation, realizing only after she had taken a cursory glance at her wardrobe that she had nothing appropriate to wear to the celebration. Astarion had balked when she'd suggested they pay a visit to Figaro to commission something, insisting that he would much rather do it himself (by which he meant properly) than pay the haughty dwarf even a single copper for his services. 

With less than a week before the ball, Astarion had already finished his own ensemble. The jacket alone featured a damask motif embossed into the fabric and hand-embroidered embellishments of gold and silver, both of which would be sure to turn more than a few heads.

Her own gown would be its twin, and although Ysera would have been just as happy in something far less ostentatious, the thought of playing the part of a wealthy noblewoman for the evening did fill her with at least a little excitement. As a child, she'd often daydreamed about what it might be like to live in a fancy palace and spend her days entertaining various lords and ladies, and this was perhaps the closest she'd ever come to fulfilling that childhood dream.

Presently, Astarion kneels before Ysera and busies himself with her gown, measuring and marking as he goes. His brows are knit in concentration, mouth pressed into a thin, taut line. Ysera feels almost swallowed by the amount of lace, tulle, and other fabrics, struggling to see Astarion at all over the voluminous skirts that flow down to her ankles. Her feet hurt from standing for so long, but Astarion had insisted it would be easier for him to properly hem and make adjustments to the garment if she was actually wearing it rather than fussing with it on a mannequin.

Ysera glances sidelong at the mirror beside her, golden eyes tracing the outline of her gown and the intricate details Astarion has embroidered across the bodice, made of the same embroidered fabric as his jacket. The gold and silver thread he's used to accent the dark fabric glimmers in the candlelight, a sea of shimmering stars across a sky of midnight black. The bodice displays just enough of her chest to be tasteful and tapers at her waist, accentuating her curves. The skirts allow her plenty of movement – the only request she had made – almost too full but certainly appropriate for such a high-class celebration.

She should be pleased to wear something so lovely, and yet…

As her eyes drift from the gown to her reflection, her expression sours. Lovely as it is, it only serves to highlight her own imperfections: her face, plain by comparison, the scars that mar her cheek and neck, as well as the other various blemishes that are suddenly glaringly apparent. Her waist and hips have filled in somewhat during the past few months, and her body has lost much of the lean, toned muscle she had acquired while traveling across Faerûn with Astarion and the rest of her companions. The skirts of her gown thankfully conceal most of her lower half, but that doesn't stop her from feeling self-conscious.

The thought occurs to her that maybe Astarion had styled it that way on purpose, to draw attention away from the less appealing parts of her body, but she refuses to entertain such an absurd thought for any longer than necessary.

And it is an absurd thought, isn't it?

The more she looks at herself, the less she likes what she sees. With a soft sigh, she turns her head away, but she can't help but frown. Her own appearance had never been anything of much importance for most of her life. Some of her previous partners had been rather attractive, but none of them had been nearly as handsome as Astarion. And at any rate, most of them had been nothing more than a one-night affair, where looks were largely irrelevant once the lights were out.

Astarion is the only man who's ever made her want to feel pretty. A shame that she hasn't lived up to her own expectations. What must he think when he looks at her? Is he disappointed?

As if he's read her thoughts, Astarion glances up at her, and their eyes meet briefly before she looks away. She prays he hasn't noticed something is off, but to her dismay he clears his throat to get her attention.

“What's the matter, darling?” Astarion asks. His expression softens when her face falls. “Do you not like the gown?”

Ysera shakes her head quietly.

“No,” she replies, her own voice sounding foreign as it comes out small and timid. She tries to smile at him but she can tell by his reaction her face is anything but happy.

“I love it. It's just…” She hesitates out of embarrassment. Finally, she admits to him, “I feel like it might be wasted on someone like me.”

A frown furrows Astarion's brow. He gets to his feet and sets his tools aside, turning his full attention to her. The troubled way he looks at her makes Ysera feel guilty, and she chews absently on her bottom lip.

“What do you mean?” he presses. Astarion's voice is heavy, not with anger or disappointment, but with concern. He takes her hands in his own, leveling a glance at her that she's reluctant to return. She doesn't want to look into his eyes, to see the pain she knows she'll find there. He waits patiently, smoothing his thumbs over the back of her hands.

Talk to me.

“It's beautiful,” Ysera concedes glancing down at his handiwork. Astarion's talents have grown significantly in the past months, and this gown in particular may be his best work yet. But then again, he pays no expense when it comes to her. It's obvious he intends her to make a statement at the ball, one way or another.

“It’s a gown fit for a patriar’s daughter.” She expects him to preen beneath her praise, but his expression remains troubled. Ysera sighs again.

 “And I'm just… well, me.”

Plain. Ordinary. Certainly not worthy of such splendor, even if she is one of the famed heroes who saved the city. She hadn't chosen any of it, of course; she was simply a random victim plucked off of the streets who happened to luck her way into survival.

Astarion tenses and tugs her off the stepstool she's been standing on for the past hour, and her bare feet brush against the floor as she tumbles into his arms, where he catches her. He still hasn't finished fitting her bodice, and the fabric almost slips off her body before Ysera gathers it up and holds her arms around herself to preserve her modesty.

Astarion's eyes widen slightly as if in surprise before narrowing again. She knows he isn't pleased with her assessment.

“When have I ever given you the impression that you were anything short of perfect?”

Ysera's chest tightens at the strained tone in his voice; it's clear he blames himself for her lack of confidence, and she hates the way that makes her feel more than anything. 

“Never,” she assures him. He's been nothing but supportive since the night he first confessed his feelings for her – longer than that, if she really thinks about it. “But you're obligated to –”

Astarion cuts her off with a vehement shake of his head, his frown deepening. She lets him spin her around so they're both facing the mirror, but her attention is trained on Astarion as he stands behind her. 

“I am not obligated to do anything, Ysera.” She can't see his face, but it's easy enough to make a guess about how stern he must look by the sound of his voice. It's a tone that brokers no room for rebuttal.

“Do you remember the night I asked you to be my mirror?”

“Of course,” Ysera says. It's one of her fondest memories, one of the first times he trusted her enough to let the mask slip, if only for a moment. The way he had asked her opinion of him so earnestly, the sadness and longing in his eyes making her second guess everything she thought she knew about him.

Recalling what she'd said to him is effortless. “I remember telling you how much I loved your eyes,” Ysera says. “Your smile. The way you laugh when you tell a particularly awful joke.” Her reflection smiles back at her, beaming as she thinks about everything she loves about him. The list is much longer now then it had been back then, and she takes the time to properly admire every entry she's mentally catalogued during their time together.

Astarion watches the way her face lights up as she speaks about him, affection for her warring with the disappointment he feels that she doesn't extend that same kindness to herself, that she either cannot or does not see herself the way he does.

It's a feeling he's all too familiar with. He knows the way those kind of thoughts can fester. If he does nothing else tonight, it will be to ensure that she never has cause to doubt herself like this again.

With a resigned sigh, Astarion admits to her, “Did you know that at the time, I was convinced that you were simply telling me what I wanted to hear? You wouldn't have been the first person to do so, after all.”

Ysera's mouth opens to refute his words, but a firm squeeze on her shoulder convinces her to listen to whatever else he has to say.

“But the first time I saw myself through your eyes – truly saw myself – I knew then that I had been wrong.”

She had done more than simply tell Astarion what she thought of him that night. With his permission, she had used their tadpoles to let him look through her eyes, to see himself for the first time in two hundred years. Once he had processed exactly what it was he was looking at, had studied every inch of his face and nearly turned away in revulsion, he had felt it: Ysera's affection for him, undeniable and so sincere that he hadn't known what to do with it at the time. He was a monster, and yet she had looked at him without a trace of fear or hatred in her heart.

“Of course you were,” Ysera says in protest. “You're –”

Astarion clicks his tongue in disapproval and shakes his head.

“Shh,” he scolds her, not unkindly. His arms wrap around her waist from behind as he molds his body to hers, chest flat against her back. He rests his chin on her shoulder. The fabric of her gown bunches beneath his arms, but without his reflection she can't see the tender way he holds her as she stares at herself in the mirror.

“This isn't about me, love,” he murmurs, sensing her distress. It's not the first time he's wished they were still tadpoled, this time so he could show her just how perfectly she fits in his embrace.

Astarion presses a chaste kiss to her cheek.

“Now… would you like to know what I see when I look at you?”

Ysera’s breath hitches, and she considers his offer.

“Yes,” she breathes, after a time, voice hardly above a whisper. She cranes her head to look at him, but he gently guides her attention back to her reflection, insistent that she does not look away. It pains him that she still thinks so little of herself after all this time.

“I see a woman who is kind and resilient,” he tells her, “who isn't afraid to throw herself head first into danger to protect the people she cares about.” The ribbon holding back her hair comes free with a quick tug, and her pink tresses spill over her shoulders and frame her face.

Astarion continues: “I see someone who was dealt an extraordinarily bad hand but kept fighting, despite the odds against her. And most importantly… I see someone who is loved.”

There are tears welling in her eyes when Ysera turns in his arms. She lets go of the dress, and without the additional support the loose fabric falls gracefully to her feet in a pool of inky black, leaving her in nothing but her underthings as she takes Astarion's face in her hands and kisses him. His mouth yields effortlessly to her, opening enough so that she can sweep her tongue between his lips and show him just how grateful she is for his kindness. He kisses her back, slow and soft.

“Don't sell yourself short, darling,” Astarion says, capturing her chin between his thumb and forefinger when they part for breath. His eyes are a deep, dazzling red, half-lidded and full of longing. “I won't hear another word of it.”

Ysera blinks away her tears and looks up at him. She can't help the grin that spreads across her face, the way her heart seizes in her chest as his words finally begin to sink in. Oh, how she loves him.

“Thank you, Astarion.”

“Oh,” Astarion says with a huff of laughter, fangs gleaming as he throws her a playful smile. He scoops her into his arms and sets her on the edge of his work table amongst the array of sketches and bolts of fabric scattered across the polished surface. “You thought I was finished?”

Ysera's face grows hot beneath his scrutiny. She should be cold, dressed in so little clothing, but the way Astarion looks at her makes her whole body feel warm and tingly. 

“I haven't even told you about those striking golden eyes of yours,” Astarion murmurs, “and the way they blaze more brightly than the sun.” He cups her face with his hand, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the jagged scar beneath her eye. “Or your scars that remind me of how strong you are.” He can see the effect that particular compliment has on her almost immediately. Ysera leans into his gentle touch, the coolness of his skin, and sighs.

“And here…” He presses his fingertip between her covered breasts, dragging it slowly down her stays. Ysera flushes a deep red and squirms in embarrassment.

Astarion laughs in amusement. “Your heart , love,” he says, rolling his eyes dramatically. “What did you think I meant?”

She pouts at him, but it's all for show. He loves to tease her, and she makes it so easy for him. After a moment, Astarion places his broad hands on either side of her ribcage and slowly drags them down her body. Ysera shivers as gooseflesh blooms in their wake. His eyes have darkened slightly, and when the candlelight catches them she sees shades of black interspersed between ruby reds.

Astarion's fingers sink into the soft swell of her hips, tender but possessive. She bites back a noise but can't completely conceal the soft moan that escapes her lips.

“Those gorgeous hips of yours,” Astarion says now, “so perfect for digging my hands into when I kiss you.” To substantiate his claims, he dips his head to capture her mouth in a searing kiss, tongue pressing against the seam of her lips before she opens for him. He hums in approval, kissing her with a slow, purposeful intensity as his tongue explores her mouth, savoring the taste of her.

He pulls away just as Ysera's eyes flutter closed, leaving her breathless and panting slightly. Astarion's gaze lingers on her face a moment longer before trailing downward, admiring every inch of her body before halting between her legs. Ysera follows his line of sight and flushes again when she realizes where he's looking.

Astarion's voice is low and playful when he says, “And don't even get me started on your –”

Ysera swats at him before he can finish, too embarrassed to hear him say the words. “Astarion!”

The corner of his mouth quirks upwards, brows raised. She laughs softly and gives him an apologetic glance. 

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Her tail twirls happily, not a trace of her earlier uncertainty still present in her expression. Like a wilting flower exposed to sunlight after languishing in the darkness, Astarion's affirmations have breathed new life into her.

She really is beautiful. And he would very much like to kiss her again.

So he does. This time there is more passion in his movements, and she slips a hand into his hair as her ankles lock behind the small of his back to pull him closer. 

With one hand still anchored on her hip, Astarion takes her other hand and guides it between his legs. Her breath catches when she feels his hardening erection, the outline of it stiff beneath his trousers. He breaks the kiss and keeps his face close to hers, close enough for her to hear the growl in his voice.

“Do you see what you do to me, Ysera?” he says to her. “How badly I want you? How much I need you?” She brushes her hand over his clothed cock and exhales another sigh. Her golden eyes are wide, pupils blown as she looks up at him and nods quietly. 

“My beautiful girl,” Astarion says, and it's somehow this above all his other praises that makes her heart flutter. Her hands lift to the buttons on his waistcoat at the same time he reaches behind her back to unbind her breasts, and in only a few short moments they've undressed each other completely. Ysera's eyes are everywhere: his sculpted torso, his nimble hands; the perfect angles of his face, and of course his cock, now fully hard and eager for her.

The way her eyes rove hungrily over his body stirs something deep inside him. He wants her – gods, does he ever want her – but he can be patient. For her, he can do anything, will do anything.

Ysera's legs part with only a little coaxing as Astarion slips between them, their bodies flush together as he positions himself in such a way that her head rests comfortably on his shoulder. When her vision focuses, Ysera sees he's purposely positioned her to watch herself in the mirror she had been so hesitant to look into before – to see how she looks at the peak of her pleasure.

Without Astarion’s reflection to interfere, her full body is on display, and she stares anxiously at herself as Astarion commands, “Don't look away, my love.”

She swallows and nods, composure broken the moment Astarion's hand works its way between her thighs and his fingers part her folds. A sharp gasp tears itself from her throat when he brushes past her entrance, gathering her arousal and spreading it along the path he traces to her clit. As his fingers spread her open, Ysera struggles not to squeeze her eyes shut, whimpering when he teases the bundle of nerves with gentle passes of his dexterous fingers. He is gentle and patient, pleasuring her for the sake of her own enjoyment over his own.

Ysera's hands settle around his back and she clings tightly to him. Astarion has her moaning incoherently before long, but she keeps her eyes trained ahead, even though her vision swims. The hand not currently occupied between her legs traces the curve of her spine, his blunt nails dragging a path down her back as she arches into him.

“Are you watching, Ysera?”

Ysera murmurs the closest thing she can to a “yes,” fascinated by the way her body accommodates the two fingers he begins to press into her dripping cunt. Her thighs tremble as he sheathes them inside her and caresses the spot inside her that ignites every nerve ending in her body with pleasure. The sounds she makes are music to his ears.

Ysera watches as Astarion pumps his fingers inside her, dragging soft whimpers from her throat each time he pulls out before pressing in deep once again. He is silent but for the occasional groan when her walls clench around his fingers, careful not to distract her from her reflection. Each time he spreads her open she can see the arousal gathered between her thighs, how eager her body is for more of him.

Only someone as intimately familiar with her body and its needs as Astarion is could bring her this much pleasure. He remembers what she likes because he loves her, because she is important. Because he wants her to enjoy every second of their time together.

“I am not obligated to do anything,” he had said.

Ysera's heart constricts in her chest before fluttering beneath her ribs like a caged bird. He knows she's finally beginning to understand.

“That’s my girl,” Astarion purrs. “Are you ready for me? I want you to see how stunning you look when I'm inside you.”

“Uh-huh.”

As soon as she gives her consent, Astarion pulls away from her, just enough to line his cock up with her entrance as he spreads her arousal over his length. Her mouth falls open as he slips his fingers over her tongue, letting her taste herself before he kisses her again. Ysera's eyes fly open as he pushes himself inside. Her body barely has to adjust to the intrusion, the combination of her wetness and his earlier efforts more than enough to make it easy for him to sink himself to the hilt.

Astarion meets her gaze briefly before she looks over his shoulder once more. Her body rocks in time with his thrusts as he fucks into her and messages her breasts in his hands. It's much easier for her to abandon her intrusive thoughts when he's lavishing so much enthusiastic attention on her, reassuring her that his praises are far more than just empty words.

His cock stretches her wide each time his hips roll forward, burying himself inside her inviting heat. There is no urgency to his rhythm, and she can feel every inch of his cock that much more precisely as he makes love to her – and that's what it is, for there are no other words to describe how gently he holds her, how focused he is on pouring his passion into every thrust of his hips, every open-mouthed kiss he places across her neck.

“Look how well you take me, Ysera,” he groans into her ear. “We were made for this – for each other.”

How could it be anything but true? She can see the evidence of it herself, there in the mirror, how her body molds to him, his precome and her own slick glistening between her parted thighs as he makes her feel so complete. Her face is contorted in pleasure, slicked with sweat, hair damp and clinging to her shoulders. 

When Astarion releases her to place one hand on her hip, her breasts bounce freely between their bodies. His other hand grips her chin, averting her gaze back to his face. 

“Do you understand now?” he pants. Astarion looks at her with a strange sort of reverence, his gaze soft and intense all at once. 

“Yes,” Ysera breathes. “Yes, Astarion.” Flawed though she may be, that is why he loves and admires her – not in spite of her imperfections but because of them. There is no one else like her, no one who even comes close. And if ever she should doubt herself again, this night will be the only reminder she needs that her fears are completely unfounded.

“I'm sorry,” she apologizes, throwing her legs around his back and tightening the grip of her arms around him. Astarion sighs and offers her an affectionate smile before shaking his head.

“Hush, darling,” he says. “You've nothing to apologize for. I've lived long enough without a reflection that I know how easy it can be to lose sight of yourself. My only regret is that I didn't notice sooner.”

Astarion slots his mouth against hers as they share a tender kiss, and Ysera's hands rise to cup Astarion's face as he begins to move faster, their soft moans muffled in the infinitesimally small space between them. His cock rubs against that sensitive spot inside her, building her pleasure to a blissful crescendo. Each of her moans is swallowed by Astarion's hungry kisses, the hand on her chin sliding into her hair to keep her close.

Their eyes lock in the final moments before she comes undone, hands threading through Astarion's soft white curls as she gasps his name like a prayer. He follows her with a groan, emptying himself inside her as they both ride out their orgasms together.

In the silence that follows, Astarion rests his forehead against hers, reveling in their closeness and the familiar sound of her heart as it calms its wild pace.

“I love you,” she says.

Astarion smirks at her through his fangs.

“I know.”

Ysera exhales loudly, and Astarion can feel the crease in her brow as she pouts at him. Her tail slips behind his back, and she gives him a good whack. “Stubborn man. Wonderful. Terribly handsome. But still stubborn.”

Astarion laughs to himself in satisfaction and presses an apologetic kiss to the tip of her nose.

“I love you too, darling.”

Indelible Imprints

Chapter 13

Word Count: 7.4k

Summary:

-Astarion is jealous and a lil angsty for half a second

-Astarion, Gale, and Erin do some stuff in the Blighted Village

-Erin agrees to let Astarion try feeding from her directly again

-Erin is confused (so is Astarion tbh)

-SPOILER: A tiny bit of smut. As a treat.

As always, comments & reblogs are very appreciated! If you like this chapter, PLEASE for the love of GOD tell me because I AM SO NERVOUS about it. Have pity on my poor soul. 😭 (It’s my first time posting smut).

Ao3

Previous Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

Tag list: @roguishcat @thisisew @chaoticbardlady99

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GORGEOUS COMMISSION DONE BY @bby-bel OF A SCENE FROM THIS CHAPTER AT THE BOTTOM!!!

Astarion

Astarion stared at the ceiling of his tent. After watching Erin and Shadowheart lying together for however long he’d stood in their doorway, there hadn’t been much else for him to do but go back to his own tent and brood. He couldn’t stand to look at them any longer anyway. 

This was stupid. What even was there to brood about? He’d been foolish to let himself get swept up in some fantasy simply because he’d spent one night in her tent with her. She’d been upset, in need of comfort, and he was just a warm body. Well. A body, at least. It could have been anyone. There was no reason to think that night had been anything more than that. Nothing had even happened. 

Maybe this was for the better. He had been so uncertain about his plans to seduce her, and with her freely giving him her blood and protection, there was really no need. The cleric was even the one who had been helping her draw blood for her little donations. He glanced at the bottles of blood Erin had left for him the other day, unopened in the corner of his tent. Shadowheart would probably agree to help her protect him, if she asked. Probably.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the pang of disappointment. Now he’d never get to replace the memories of when she’d put her mouth on his against her will with a moment where she was herself, and willing. 

Not just willing. Wanting. He realized with a sting in his chest that he wanted her to want him. To want to kiss him. To touch and hold him like she had last night, when she’d been too emotional to care about being embarrassed. He didn’t know why, but he did. He wanted her to seek comfort in him, just like she had in that moment. 

Now that she was with the cleric, she probably never would again.

Sitting up, he looked back at the blood jars. He should drink at least one of them. The animals he’d been feeding on the past few nights hadn’t filled him much, and he could feel an emptiness gnawing at his stomach. Still, something within him twisted even more than his hunger at the thought of taking any more of her blood from those bottles. They only reminded him of why she wouldn’t let him drink directly from her in the first place, and he didn’t want to think about that.

But then what was the point of all this, if she was giving him exactly what he wanted and he couldn’t bring himself to take it?

This is what you wanted. Why can’t you just drink it??

Lying back down against his bedroll, he tried to ignore his hunger. He’d just save the jars for an emergency. He didn’t want them yet. If he focused on that thought long enough, maybe he’d believe it.

***

Once everyone had finished breakfast the next morning, it was decided that some of the group would go on ahead to scout the goblin camp before they all went in together. The rest would stay behind to thoroughly loot the village for anything useful in the fight ahead. Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart would go ahead, while Erin, Gale, and Astarion stayed behind. 

Astarion was relieved to see Erin agree readily to the split, with no attempts to keep the cleric close. It did make sense for Shadowheart to leave with the scouting group. She was the healer, after all, and they’d need her there more than they would at camp if the group ran into any trouble. Still, he watched them closely to see if they were disappointed to be separated. They didn’t seem affected at all. Had the night before not gone as well for them as he’d thought? They certainly weren’t acting like lovers who had just consummated their relationship. What had he seen last night, then?

He couldn’t help himself. Just as the scouting group had gotten out of earshot, he leaned toward Erin and spoke low in her ear.

“What? No goodbye kiss for your new lover?”

She jumped, clearly startled by his sudden appearance behind her. She was far too easy to sneak up on.

“Shit!” When she caught him smirking, she smacked his chest, but there was no real effort in it. “You can’t just sneak up on me like that. I’ll have a heart attack.”

He chuckled at her overreaction. “We can’t have that, can we?” 

Settling from the shock, she asked, “Sorry, what were you saying before I jumped out of my skin just now?”

“I was asking about your new lover. I thought the two of you might have been more inclined to stay together after your tryst last night.”

She looked confused. Her brows shot up, creasing her forehead when she asked, “My… what?”

His expression dropped. Was she purposely being obtuse? “Really, darling. It’s not as though the entire camp didn’t see you leaving the same place this morning for breakfast.”

Realization finally set in her eyes, but instead of blushing she made an annoyed snorting sound.“Oh my god. You’re just as bad as she is.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“About?” he prompted her, attempting to mask his frustration.

“Making assumptions about my sex life, apparently. Nothing like that happened last night.”

His heart lightened. “Oh? Did you want something to happen?” he asked, hoping she’d say no.

She rolled her eyes. “Again, you’re just as bad as she is. No. She’s my friend and I don’t see her that way. You guys act like we don’t have anything else to worry about,” she added, sounding a bit incredulous. “Sex has kind of been the last thing on my mind with these worms in our brains, and all.”

 “You poor thing,” he teased, grinning wide. “So repressed you can’t even distract yourself with the simplest of pleasures?”

A small offended noise escaped her mouth and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m not repressed,” she protested, “I’ve had plenty of se-“ she stopped herself and glared at him. “You know what? I’m not talking about this with you.”

He grinned even harder, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled so much. “Oh no, do go on!” 

She crossed her arms and turned, walking away from him. “I’m leaving. Bye.”

He chuckled to himself as he watched her go. The thought of her being with others wasn’t exactly his favorite, but he was in too good a mood to dwell on it. Besides, he liked seeing her flustered. The blush that spread to her face was adorable, and reminded him of the blood coursing underneath. 

She and Shadowheart didn’t have sex. He was more relieved than he should have been.

Erin

Erin was watching Gale stir ingredients into a pot, trying very hard to listen to him as he narrated the steps he took to brew the healing potion he was making. It turned out that one of the houses in the village had belonged to an apothecary, and most of their stores seemed untouched. Gale had been delighted, immediately noting they had enough to make potions to last them a while. Erin had asked him if a person needed magic to make potions, and when he said it wasn’t necessary, she asked him to teach her. Since she was the least capable of the group in a fight, she figured the least she could do was learn to make a few potions so she could help keep them stocked. Besides, she was more prone to injury than the others and it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra healing potion or two on hand so they wouldn’t have to worry about her.

She also needed a distraction. After her chat with Shadowheart last night, she couldn’t stop thinking about Astarion. She’d dreamt of him again, and she tried to convince herself it was only because Shadowheart had kept teasing her about her attachment to him. All the talk about sleeping with him just put it in her head. It wasn’t her fault that he ended up in her dreams. Again. 

But she couldn’t stop thinking about the things Shadowheart had said. Did he really look at her so differently than the others? Was it so obvious?

Of course he does, you let him drink your blood. Shadowheart even said it, he looks at you like he wants to devour you. You’re just a meal.

She blushed, embarrassed for letting Shadowheart get to her head. He was her friend. Just because he teased a bit didn’t mean there was anything else there. He’d even spent the night in her tent without anything happening. Surely someone as flirty as him would have actually made a move then, if he’d been interested. 

No, he was just being a good friend, comforting her while she was sad. Guilt tugged at her chest, convinced that she’d made him feel trapped into doing so, unintentional as that was. Being close to people didn’t seem like something he was actually comfortable with, but there she was, constantly forcing proximity. He didn’t seem to begrudge her for it though.

It wasn’t fair, that stupid hag had put all of this into her head. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him in ways she shouldn’t since that day in her den. They felt like nightmares at first, flashes of her licking his lips in her dreams in the aftermath. But, that night he held her in her arms, her dreams were softer, sweeter. Their hands were in each other’s hair as they sighed into each other’s mouths. Those dreams played out more like fantasies, and the way he touched her in them made her chest feel warm. It felt good. She tried to ignore it.

But then Shadowheart had to insist on talking about them like they were a couple last night, stoking the fires of Erin’s dreams no matter how much she denied them while awake. She’d had a genuinely nice time with Shadowheart that night, comforted to be close to a friend, but as she drifted into sleep, the arms holding her became his again and she didn’t mind it at all. 

When Shadowheart woke her this morning, she panicked for a second, as though she would somehow know what she’d been dreaming about and judge her harshly for the unbidden fantasies that came to her while she slept. 

Everybody has sex dreams. They don’t mean anything. Shadowheart was talking about sex last night so of course that’s what you dreamed about.

Astarion wasn’t helping. The way he’d lowered his voice when he spoke into her ear this morning had shocked her, and sent a spark of heat into her belly. And all to suggest she was sleeping with Shadowheart? If this was the way he teased her over things that didn’t even happen she was grateful he couldn’t see the things she dreamed about. She’d probably die.

“Erin, are you listening?”

“Hmm?” She looked up to see Gale watching her, waiting for an answer. “Oh, I’m sorry Gale. What was the question?”

“What ingredients do you need for this potion?”

“Oh, that’s easy, she answered. “Rogue’s morsel, which is the weird phallic-looking mushroom, and salt.” 

Gale blushed. “Ah, close, but no. Firstly, it’s salt of Rogue’s morsel, and second, you need to add it to a suspension.” He paused, turning a slightly deeper shade of red. “Um, and the mushroom you were describing was actually Bonecap. Rogue’s morsel has a cap that looks more like a pointed hat. It’s not as, ahem, phallic… as the Bonecap.”

“Ha!” Her eyes lit up. “Not subtle with naming your plants here, huh? BONE-cap?” she cackled. 

Gale rolled his eyes at her immaturity and gave her a lighthearted shove. “All right, that’s quite enough. At least until I have better knowledge of your own world to tease you with.”

“Ask me anything,” she gave him a mischievous grin. “We have mushrooms shaped like dicks over there, too.”

“Duly noted,” he chuckled.

“By the way,” she started. “Have you figured anything out with my phone yet?” She didn’t want to seem impatient, but she was hopeful that he might get it to work again soon.

“Ah, not quite yet,” he gave her a sympathetic smile. “Given that I’ve only got a couple of chances, I’m taking my time with finding a solution. As you said, I don’t want to just ‘shoot’ lightning at it.”

“Oh,” she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. Still, she was grateful he was being careful. “No worries, Gale. Take your time.”

Astarion burst out of the apothecary’s house, excitedly hurrying to where they stood over their potion at the campfire.

“I found a secret cellar. Someone come with me so we can raid it for good wine and dirty secrets.” He said, downright giddy.

“What makes you think there are dirty secrets to find?” Erin asked him.

“Please. A hidden cellar is hidden for a reason. It’s probably positively depraved.”

“Let Erin go with you, then,” Gale said, winking at her. “After our little discussion, she’d probably love it.”

“Don’t be a Bonecap, Gale.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Astarion looked back and forth between the two of them. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing. Let’s go.”

“You never tell me anything,” he scrunched his nose at her. “You’re no fun.”

***

The cellar turned out to not be particularly depraved, but it did seem to contain a few secrets. While Astarion raided the stores of wine and dug through various notes, Erin looked through the shelf of books and desk nearby. She found a key in a drawer and slipped it into her pocket, in case they found a locked door later. There was suddenly a ‘click’ and the sound of stone dragging. She looked up to see the wall ahead of her sliding open and called out to Astarion.

“Astarion? Was that you?”

He appeared out of the corner he’d been digging in. “Yes, I found a lever behind those crates, and what do you know? A secret cellar within the secret cellar.” he laughed that high-pitched, airy laugh that Erin was growing fond of.

“It’s cute, the way your fangs peek out like that when you laugh,” she blurted out before she could think better of it.

He stopped laughing, eyes widening just a little as he looked at her. He didn’t look unhappy, but she was a little sad to see his smile gone so quickly.

“Anyway…” Pivoting from the awkwardness she’d just created, she nodded to the room the hidden door had just revealed. “Shall we?”

He cleared his throat before answering, and his expression looked normal again as he gestured ahead of them. “After you, darling.”

Erin immediately noticed a small grate that looked like an old prison door and walked up to see what was inside. It was a small room, with nothing but a book sitting on a dusty stone table. She looked down at the padlock on the door and pulled out the key she’d found earlier, ready to unlock it.

“Before you do that, mind if I check for traps?” Astarion asked from behind her. “Something about it being the only locked door in this house makes me think we should err on the side of caution.”

“Oh,” Erin felt a little stupid. “Yeah, that makes sense. Go ahead.” 

He knelt down before her, inspecting the door and the floor below it. “Aha. Go ahead and step back a moment, darling. Just to be safe.”

She did as he said as he pulled his tools out of his back pocket. She tried not to watch his hands too closely as he worked.

“There we go,” he said after a moment, standing. “You can go ahead and use that key now.”

She slipped the key in the lock and opened the door. She looked down at the book. It was disgusting. The cover looked like it had been bound in the skin of someone’s face and she really hoped it was just a really gross, albeit detailed, leatherwork design. She tugged her sleeve down to cover her hand so she wouldn’t have to touch too much of it and pulled the book from the table. Sitting on the floor, she set it down and looked at it, wondering why it had been locked away and guarded with a trap. 

Astarion leaned in close, looking at the book over her shoulder.

“That looks terribly heavy. Why don’t you let me carry it for you?”

She smirked at how obvious he made it that he wanted the book. “Here,” she handed it to him. “It’s yours. A gift for finding that trap and saving my life… again.”

“Of course,” he took the book from her and slipped it in his bag. “I’m happy to save your life if it means I keep getting books and favors.”

“And not my company? I’m hurt.”

“Well that goes without saying.”

“Does it?” She looked at him, surprised.

He met her gaze and then looked away.

“Well I suppose it does now.”

His expression almost seemed shy, despite that being one of the last adjectives she’d use to describe him. 

*** 

After they’d cleared out what they could from the basement, Erin and Astarion walked back to put it all in the center of camp for organizing. After spending a bit of time going through it all, they decided to take a short break so Erin could eat and take care of the rest later. Gale had been taking inventory of everything, scribbling what they had and how much of it there was in a small book. He told Erin he’d write some recipes for a few basic potions that she could follow later in it as well as they ate. Astarion had gone to his tent, and she remembered she had found something she wanted to give him yesterday.

She excused herself from lunch with Gale and went back to where she and Shadowheart had slept last night. After finding her duffel bag, she reached in and dug around for the headband she’d found on one of the ogres they’d fought when they got to the village yesterday. Pulling it out, she gave it a quick look for any blemishes she could wipe clean. It looked alright. More than alright, it was extremely pretty. It was made of silver, with small branches sticking out and surrounding a cracked blue stone. The crack didn’t take away from its beauty, and after she’d cleaned it yesterday, she couldn’t help but think how nice it would look on Astarion. She hoped he would like it.

Approaching his tent with the headband in hand, she called his name. 

“Hey, Astarion? Can I come in for a second?”

There was a pause, and then he answered. “Sure, darling.”

She ducked under the flap and crawled inside his tent. He was sitting with a small chest in front of him. He picked the chest up and set it aside. She looked around, a little shocked at the mess inside. He had empty bottles everywhere, and rags stained with blood scattered around the floor. Instead of a bedroll, there was a wooden plank in the corner of the tent with a single dirty blanket that didn’t look big enough to even cover him comfortably. Her heart suddenly ached to think he was living like this. Why did he keep all of his nice things outside of his tent? Surely he could have brought a few of the pillows in here and at least thrown out some of the trash to make it a little cozier in here.

“Did you need something, dear?” he asked, sounding slightly anxious as she stared at the plank of wood on the floor.

“Oh, no,” she said, looking back to him. “I just wanted to give you this.” She handed him the headband she’d been holding. 

He took it, then squinted at her. “Why?”

She sighed. “Aren’t you the one who told me I should just take the gifts you’ve given me? I just thought you might like it.”

“You don’t want it?” 

“To be honest, I think it would look much nicer on you.”

He smirked, “Yes, well most things do.”

She rolled her eyes, ready to tease him for being so full of himself, but her eyes landed on the bottles of blood she’d given him, still full.

“Hey, isn’t that the blood I gave you? That was a few days ago, why didn’t you drink them? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, no, everything’s fine.”

“But, you said animal blood wasn’t enough? Is there something wrong with what I gave you?”

“No, nothing! I just… It’s a bit odd to drink it this way, honestly.”

“From a bottle?”

“Yes… I suppose it just feels a bit unnatural. I’ll drink it when I need to.”

“Aren’t you hungry?” She paused. “Do you want to try drinking from me again?”

“What?”

“From me. Like you did the first time. Well, hopefully not exactly like the first time.”

“You trust me enough to try it that way again?”

“Astarion, you’ve saved my life enough now that I can’t imagine not trusting you. I mean, you were starving the first time. I can understand how you ended up going overboard. But you’re not starving anymore. We can try again.” 

“Really?”

“Yes. Just… eat something beforehand. Probably best for you not to try this again on an empty stomach.”

“Of course, darling. I can go hunt now if you wont mind trying once I get back.”

“Sure. Just meet me in my tent when you’re back.”

Astarion

He stood outside her tent, almost unable to believe she’d invited him there. That she was allowing him to drink from her again. After what he’d done the first time, he was sure he’d never get to do it again. Now that he was about to, his fangs ached at the thought of sinking into her skin. As soon as she’d left his tent, he downed the bottles she’d given him as quickly as he could, wiping the drips that had spilled past his lips with a stray rag before he left to drain the first animal he could find. 

Now he was here, outside her tent, waiting for her to meet him. She’d gone off to grab a snack when he’d come back and met her by the campfire. When she came back, she had a banana in her hand and a book under her arm. She held the tent flap open for him and followed him inside.

“Good book?” he asked.

“It’s pretty fun, actually. Gale loaned it to me. ‘The True and Impossible Adventures of Tenebrux Morrow.’ She’s had some very interesting adventures so far.”

“Oh, yes, that’s a good one. She applies the word ‘true’ to her tales a bit liberally, though.”

“Don’t ruin the illusion for me. She was on her way to being my new hero.”

Astarion laughed and she smiled.

“Alright, so how do you want to do this?” she asked, setting the book and the banana down for later. 

He hesitated. “I… I want to try something, if you’ll let me. I think it might prepare the flow of your blood better and make the initial sting less painful for you.”

“I mean, if you’re worried about blood flow, I could always take a quick jog? Or do some jumping jacks.”

“Oh no, I believe this will be quicker, and a little less inconvenient for you.”

“If you say so. So what is it you want to try?”

“Would you allow me?”

“Um, sure. Should I move?”

“No, no. You’re perfect right where you are.”

He crawled to sit behind her, crossing his legs rather than spreading them around her and pulling her into his lap like he’d like to do. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pulled her closer, so he could access her neck. She was awkward and tense, clearly trying to avoid leaning against his chest or touching him in any way. 

Gods, but he wanted her to. He ignored the thought and carefully pulled her hair away from her neck as she tilted her head to the side for him, caressing her skin with the tips of his fingers under the guise of brushing the hairs away. As he watched the trail of goosebumps follow in the wake of his touch and heard her heart skip a beat, he couldn’t help but think how much he wanted to caress her skin with no pretense at all. He didn’t want to need a reason to touch her. He wanted to be able to do it simply for the fact that he wanted to. 

“So what now?” She asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“Hm,” he started, unsure of how he’d explain it to her. “Well, it may be easier for me to just show you. You can stop me at any time, of course.”

She tilted her head further in assent, so he leaned forward and pulled her a little closer. His lips hovered above her neck, and he longed to drag his tongue up and down the length of her throat, just to hear the way it might make her gasp. Instead, he gently placed his mouth over the juncture between her neck and shoulder and gently started to suck the skin without biting, keeping his tongue respectfully still.

Her heart skipped another beat, and at the sound of her breath hitching, he sucked a little harder, willing his tongue to stay still against her skin. 

Suddenly, she pushed herself forward, breaking the contact. She whipped her head around to look at him and he tried to hide his disappointment when he asked, “Something wrong, darling?”

“That was your idea? Giving me a hickey?” She reached up to rub her fingers over where his mouth had just been and he noted the way they lingered over the small bruise instead of wiping away the moistness he’d left there. 

“Well,” he fidgeted with his hands a bit. “I thought it would be a quick way to warm the area up a bit and increase the blood flow…”

“You could have at least told me you planned on leaving a mark. I’d have had you do it to the side of my neck you’ve already bitten. How am I supposed to explain a random hickey if someone asked?”

“Why do you care?” he asked.

“People might get the wrong idea.”

“And what idea is that?”

“That we’re… you know what it would look like.”

“So what? What’s so bad about that?”

“Besides the fact that it isn’t true??”

“Would it be so horrible if it was?”

“What?”

He leaned closer. “Would it embarrass you so much? To have been with me?” He whispered, nose nearly touching hers.

“No, I,” she swallowed hard, and he could hear the way her heart was thundering in her chest now. She turned to look away from him and her eyes landed on something behind him and she squinted at it.

“Wait,” she said, and he watched her crawl toward the stack of clothes he’d left in her tent last night. She pulled the shirt lying on top into her hands and looked at him questioningly. “What’s this?”

“That would be a shirt. Blouse, if you prefer. A more general term might be garment.”

“No, I know what it is…” she tenderly brushed her fingers over the embroidery that had been added.

“Did you do this?” she asked him.

“Yes, well. I told you I’d wash it for you the other night.”

“And this?” she pointed to the embroidery.

“It’s nothing, really. You had holes that needed patching up. Really, darling, you’re terrible about picking at fabric. Don’t you dare pull on that embroidery.”

“Oh, I guess I am… I’ll take care of it… Thank you.”

“See that you do.”

There was a pause, and while she stared at his embroidery, he cleared his throat to break the silence.

She looked up from the shirt and met his gaze. “Oh, right,” she set the shirt down and moved to sit in front of him again. “Where were we?”

“You were chastising me for leaving an extra mark on your skin. Would you like me to try over the bite mark instead?”

“Yes, that would be better,” she breathed.

He held her gaze as she nodded, then dipped his head to the other side of her neck, pressing his tongue against his old bite mark and taking her skin in his mouth again. He sucked harder than before, and when a small gasp escaped her lips, he swirled his tongue around the tender flesh of her neck as he sucked, throwing aside the restraint from before. He groaned in spite of himself and leaned further into her, pushing her lower and caging her beneath him with his arms on either side of her. Hoping to hide behind his hunger, he pulled back to bare his teeth, preparing to bite, but she stopped him.

“Wait, Astarion.” she said. 

He was disappointed, but not surprised. Of course this was too much, something she didn’t want. Slowly, he lifted his head from her neck to meet her gaze, but she didn’t say anything. She reached out to touch his cheek and guided him closer, his face hovered above hers. She brought her other hand up to cup his cheek, thumbs brushing against his cheekbones, and looked at him in a way that made him shiver, despite the warmth of her hands. 

Everything went quiet, and all he could hear was her slow breaths as she looked into his eyes, her brows canted slightly upward, a cute little crease forming between them. She’d never looked at him like that before. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want this closeness to stop. So he lowered his face toward hers, searching for a sign that she didn’t want it to stop either as he brought his lips just above her own. Their noses brushed ever so slightly and they were so close that when her heart skipped a beat, it felt like his did too.

Suddenly, she brought her hands to the nape of his neck and pulled him down to her, closing the gap. Her lips were soft and warm against his as they pressed together slowly. 

She was kissing him and he was kissing her back and it felt so good. What had started soft and slow grew quickly heated and urgent, as she threaded her hands in his curls, pulling him impossibly closer and gently scraping his scalp and he nearly moaned at the sensation. He grabbed her waist, needing to touch her, and let his hands roam up and down her sides. 

He swept his tongue against her lower lip before pulling it into his mouth and gently nipping at it, careful not to cut her on his fangs. She let out a soft little “mm” and he gave her lip one last suck before slipping his tongue into her mouth. She let him in and circled her tongue over his in a way that made him want so much more. She was running her hands down his sides and as they settled on his lower back he brought his own up to cup her cheek.

He started leaving a wet trail of kisses from her mouth down her neck, and she gasped, but before he could go any further she pushed against his chest, stopping him. Her heart was racing and she was out of breath. He looked at her mouth, pink and shiny from their kissing, and wanted desperately to keep kissing her. 

Why did she stop?

Confused, he looked down at her and saw only shock in her expression. 

“Darling?” he asked, “Is everything alright?”

She pushed herself up but turned away from his face, as though she were suddenly unable to look at him. 

“Yes, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?” He didn’t understand what could have changed in such a short moment. Couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong.

“We should not have…” she paused, still looking anywhere but at him. “I shouldn’t have done that. We shouldn’t do this,” she said again, then voice trembling, “I’m sorry.”

He was too stunned to say anything as she got up to leave, so he watched her go and sat in her tent alone. 

Erin

What the fuck were you thinking?? That was so stupid. You’re so stupid.

She ran back to the room she and Shadowheart had shared the night before, hoping Astarion would eventually leave her tent on his own. She couldn’t think of what possessed her to kiss him like that. What was wrong with her?

And he kissed her back. Somehow that made it worse. 

What she’d said to Shadowheart the night before had been true. She couldn’t do this. Eventually, she was going to get home, and she couldn’t start something that she knew would only end. And she definitely didn’t want anything casual. With someone as beautiful as Astarion, that would only end up with her getting hurt. 

She liked Astarion. He was rude, but he was also funny and just fun to be around. He was the only one in their group of companions that she truly felt she could talk to. Besides maybe Shadowheart, but he’d shared far more about himself with her than she had so far. She could fight with him, because he’d fight back. He challenged her, and because of that she felt like she could be honest with him. He’d saved her life multiple times and she hasn’t known another person she’d been more grateful to have in her life. He never held what had happened with the hag against her, even though it would have been so easy. 

He was her friend. She didn’t want to fuck that up.

She brought her fingers up to her lips, and she could still feel his kisses there. She dragged her fingertips down where he’d left a trail of kissed along her neck and shivered.

He had kissed her back. 

***

Astarion had left her tent at some point while she was gone, and she was grateful she didn’t have to face him when she came back for dinner. She had a nice chat with Gale about the book he’d given her and he quizzed her on some of the more basic potion recipes he’d given her earlier that day. It was fairly quiet without the others back yet. After dinner, she said goodnight to Gale and went back to her tent to sleep. With only three of them in camp, it didn’t feel safe for her to spend her night too far away, so the bed was out of the question.

Unfortunately, being in the tent where she’d kissed Astarion only hours ago made it very difficult for her to stop thinking about that kiss. The way he’d been so careful with her, even when he nipped at her lips, sent a shiver through her body. And then the way he pushed his mouth harder into hers, as though he were hungry to kiss her, more than he was for her blood, grabbing her waist so firmly it made her ache inside.

She was becoming flustered all over again. 

It’s just because it’s been a while. You’re stressed and pent up. 

Closing her eyes, she reassured herself that that’s all this was. She just needed to do something to relieve the stress a bit. She told herself that maybe this would help her sleep. She pushed all thoughts about him out of her mind and repeated these things to herself over and over again as she slowly slid her hand beneath the waistband of her pants.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” she whispered to herself as she lightly scraped her nails against her underwear.

She tried eliciting something, a tingle, a shiver, anything. But her ministrations along with her repeated mantra was too clinical. She couldn’t do it like this.

Maybe she could drop the mantra to allow space in her head for something a little sexier…

White curls and pale skin came to mind.

No! Think of a celebrity or a character from a movie like a normal person!

She continued her touching while she tried to summon an adequate fantasy.

Why couldn’t she think of anything? It was like every man and woman she had ever found attractive had been wiped from her mind. Fine. She’d focus on the actions, the feelings, instead of the face.

She dragged the hand that wasn’t in her pants up, skimming past her stomach and up to her breast, pushing her shirt up and out of the way. Without a blanket covering her exposed skin she felt a chill, and suddenly imagined cool hands spreading across her body.

She dipped a finger into her folds and the coldness of it was a relief, finally sending a thrill through her as the nipple under her hand pebbled at the sensation. She sighed and slid the finger up and down to spread the slick that was growing with her arousal, undulating her hips slightly into the rhythm. she rocked into her hand until she ached so much she couldn’t stand it and dipped her finger deep inside.

It was at that moment she’d realized who the cold hands she’d been imagining belonged to, as an image of Astarion above her, his hands touching her bare skin, came rushing into her head. 

“Ughn,” she whined into her shoulder.

No! Not right now!

She closed her eyes, but that only made the image clearer. She felt the pressure rising inside her core and didn’t want to stop and lose that feeling.

Keeping her pace, she searched for something to replace him in her mind. Nothing would come. Frustrated, she whined, and when she did, an image of him smiling down at her, amused by her pathetic sounds came to mind.

Fuck it.

She stopped fighting the fantasy.

Astarion

He’d heard her whine from inside her tent.

It was the middle of the night and he could hear Gale snoring from his tent. She was alone tonight.

Worried, he came closer. When he was just outside of her tent, he heard her again. Not a whine. A moan. A muffled moan. 

He stood there dumbly as he realized what she was doing. Now that he was closer, it was obvious. He could hear her heart starting to race and the slick sounds of her fingers working.

Oh gods.

He heard her sigh and he felt an ache deep in his core.

He should not be here. He should go. Leave her to her own business. He could ignore the growing tightness in his pants, or take care of it in his tent, but he should go.

But then he heard it. The slightest whisper released into a sigh, barely perceptible, but he heard it.

“Astarion…”

He didn’t ignore the throb in his cock this time. He palmed himself and inhaled quietly, thankful that his lack of need for air gave him incredible breath control for involuntary responses like this. He crept behind her tent, fully out of view of the camp and softly lowered himself into the grass beside it.

“Ahhh,” she whined.

She sounded muffled and he imagined her moaning into her shoulder, bared and naked, as he loosened the ties of his trousers. He thought of her undressing, slipping out of her pants and pulling off her shirt before she touched herself. 

While she thought of him. He had to fight the moan that threatened to escape him at the idea that she was thinking of him while she fucked herself. 

Oh gods, he wanted to lick every inch of her skin. He wondered what her blood would taste like mixed with her sweat and slick as he freed himself from his pants. Taking himself in his hand and pumping slowly, he listened to the rhythm she set for herself and tried to match it. Closing his eyes, he leaned onto the ground and let his head roll back as he thrusted into his hand. 

Why was she doing this to him? If she wanted him like this, why did she stop their kiss? He could have done so much more to her than she could achieve with those little fingers. 

The thought of her hands slippery and wet from touching herself, wrapped around his cock as she kissed him soft and slow like she did earlier in her tent sent his eyes rolling to the back of his head. 

He imagined skimming his fingers down her sides, making her shiver while she sat on his cock and he rolled her hips into her. 

She was working herself faster now and he could her her heartbeat speeding up in response. In the fantasy playing out in his head, she was riding him fast and hard, chasing her release as he felt every part of her he could touch and lick and kiss. 

Quickening his own pace to match hers, imagining it was him thrusting into her instead of her fingers, he felt himself getting closer. Then, she gasped, her breath stopping for a moment even while her fingers kept going. Just imagining the feeling of her walls clenching around him was enough to push him into his own climax. He forced himself to stay quiet, riding it out while he listened to her shuddering exhales in the aftermath of her own release. 

He wiped his hands on the grass beside him and lied there beside her tent, listening to her breathing. After a while, he heard the tell-tale sounds of her slow breath and steady heartbeat, letting him know she'd fallen asleep. Lying there a little while longer, he wondered if she looked flushed and pink in the aftermath while she slept, and wished she sleeping in his arms again. 

Why isn't she? he wondered, as he put himself together and got up to start walking, not quite ready to go back to his tent.

She could have been sleeping in his arms now. She could have kept kissing him earlier today in her tent, and he would have let her, kissing her back until both their lips were raw. He couldn't think of a time when kissing someone had felt so good. He didn't want it to stop.

But then it did. She did. He was sure he'd fucked things up somehow, replaying it all in his head, looking for where he went wrong. For a moment, sitting there in her tent, he'd wondered if he'd forced her into it, caging her beneath him and getting close like that.

It was her that closed the gap, though. She kissed him.

So why did she stop?

In that moment, he'd have kissed every inch of her skin if she'd have let him. Let him. He nearly laughed at the thought.

He'd spent so many years wishing for a day he'd never have to touch or be touched by another person again. Done so many things to bring others pleasure while he wallowed in disgust and self-loathing. And here he was, wanting to do so many of those things to her. She'd just brought him pleasure he didn't think he was capable of experiencing anymore and she didn't even know it. She hadn't even touched him to get him there.

What in the hells was wrong with him?

His aimless wandering brought him standing in the room where he'd found her lying with Shadowheart the night before. Although he knew now that they weren't romantically involved, his insides still twisted into knots as he thought about the closeness they'd shared. He wondered if she'd let him get that close to her again.

Sitting on the bed, he realized it still smelled like her. He crawled to the side where her scent was the strongest and laid down, pressing his face into the mattress. Staying like that, inhaling her, he let himself drift into sleep, hoping he'd dream of her.

Behold! The art I commissioned from the incredible @bby-bel of Astarion and Erin after their first kiss!! Behold it!!

WIP Whenever!

Hehe, thank you for tagging me @verbenaa 🖤🖤 I've got so much in store, some kinktober stuff (yes, the infamous incubus fic that has been in the works since July) but have some Chapter 12 dance stuff!!! Because I have really pretty art to share with that chapter and I'm so excited since the person who made it for me put so much beauty and hard work into it!

His companions dance, embers stretching up to the stars. He watches, listens, hears the words wash over him, and feels the drum resonate in his chest, the lyrics lighting over his subconscious. When she’s exhausted, her body radiating heat, sweat clinging to her skin in a glossy glow, he stares brazenly. She walks over to him, her cheeks flushed red, her hands raising to settle on his shoulders. He thanks the ithbank Wyll had passed around for her warm eyes as she rests against his chest, arms wrapping around his neck while a soft melody, unlike the one before, billows around them. Unsure what else to do, he settles his hands on her hips, swaying slightly as she sighs. “Thanks for carrying me back.” She murmurs into his chest and he snickers softly, knowing someone would have told her. “You’re very welcome.” She laughs this time, pulling away to look into his eyes. Her gaze distracts him, not noticing Shadowheart slow-dancing with Wyll while Gale casts a copy of himself for Karlach to twirl. Lae’zel is sitting on the ground, a half-empty bottle in her hand, looking satisfied and surprisingly content. He wants to ask about their talk in the windmill, about her reluctance but lets the questions die on his tongue as she smiles at him. He wants to pull her in close, maybe work some kind of magic to entice her into a kiss, but she doesn’t seem to need it. On her own, she moves closer and he closes his eyes, waiting for her soft lips to touch his, but it never comes. Instead, she leaves a featherlight peck on his cheek, gentle, before resting her head against his shoulder. He looks at her hair, and the pink tips of her ears, at a loss for words as the music takes them the rest of the way through the evening.

Tagging all of you again if you feel like sharing 🖤🖤 @preciouslittlebhaalbae @inkymoonbunny @justabiteofspite @elinorbard @ladyduellist @roguishcat @khywren @kalmiaphlox

WIP Wednesday

Was tagged throughout the past few weeks by @inkymoonbunny, @xxnashiraxx, @preciouslittlebhaalbae, and @verbenaa, so here's a hefty piece of lonely reflective Ascended Astarion angst since I didn't post anything last week.

Just for context, this is a Bad Ending AU set years after the brain where my Durge, Henri left A!A before being turned into a spawn, going off by herself to become a famous bard and has only just now returned to perform at Astarion's engagement party to an important elven figure as part of his political strategy. So this is him reflecting back on their relationship before talking to her for the first time in a long time.

When was the last time he had bedded her? They had been taking a break from the activity because his former self couldn’t handle it, the weakling. Astarion couldn’t help but wonder if that was a reason she ended up leaving after all. Even with his power he couldn’t fix himself fast enough. If she had let him bed her the night after he ascended, surely he could have gotten her to stay. Fix the times before that where he’d been out to use her and she had seen right through it. “It wasn’t difficult, you know, to see that whatever it was that you wanted out of this, it wasn’t me. Well, more than what I could provide. And you were clear that these nights together were just us having fun, nothing serious. I liked you beyond that but I didn’t know how quickly these urges were going to escalate. So why not go along with it and pretend? I get to experience a bit of life I’m not going to get to otherwise. And you’d move on to some pretty elf after we get to Baldur’s Gate where you have more options. I wouldn’t be leaving someone behind hurting after I needed to be...put down.” “Well, you’re not getting put down like some sick dog, for one, so let’s agree on that first,” Astarion snapped, feeling like he was going to vomit, “We are killing whatever this is and freeing you just like we’re killing Cazador. Alright?” She smiled softly, her eyes glassy, “Alright.” “Second, some pretty elf? Really? I’m already a pretty elf, my dear, why introduce competition? Where the hells did that come from anyway? Don’t tell me you think you’re unattractive in any sense of the word.” “Oh, I know I’m attractive just...you don’t seem to care for tieflings in general and between that and me looking like I walked off an autopsy table I thought I was more of a novelty item than anything else.” “Well, you’re not. So, there.” Gods he’d made a mess. “And as soon as I figure all this nonsense out, we’re redoing all your firsts with me. Properly this time. Real. Because I never want to make you feel like that again.” But Astarion never had the chance to fulfill his promise. And now he’d gotten himself a pretty elf and Henri was stuck with those memories of him using her.

No pressure tags: @elinorbard, @batbuska, @ladyduellist, @roguishcat, @tealfling

(If you already wrote something, feel free to just tag me in it!)