#and that Drow moment is what made it clear to me

[kittyplayz1cantmsg4somereason]

I wish there was a dialogue option to tell that Drow in Moonrise that doesn’t seem to take no for an answer about Astarion biting her that you have a different suggestion for how she could experience the sensation she described imagining experiencing from a vampire bite and basically threaten to slit her throat because that’s what I wanted to do in that moment

[moonselune]

Telling the men that your pregnant!! I absolutely adore pregnancy tropes. I just Know that Wyll would be such a sweet father. Son would Halsin and Gale!! Ugh, I love them. Actually, if you could, probably also Minthara somehow? Only if you want. Have a good day <3!

Hey hey so I have actually done this request here but I will add Minthara and Raphael x Because if we can have dragons we can have w/w pregnancies xoxo

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The flickering glow of the campfire cast long shadows across the forest clearing as you sat beside Minthara, the night quiet except for the distant sounds of nocturnal creatures. The air was cool, and the two of you were wrapped in each other's warmth, the world around you seeming to disappear as you shared this rare moment of peace.

Minthara’s strong arms were wrapped around you, her touch as familiar as the rhythm of your heartbeat. You had always felt safe with her, protected in a way that transcended mere physical security. Tonight, however, there was something more you needed to share, something that would change everything.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding as you turned to face her. Her eyes, those piercing, fierce eyes, softened as they met yours. You could see the love there, the adoration she rarely showed to anyone else. It gave you the courage to speak.

"Minthara," you began, your voice a mixture of nervousness and excitement. "There's something I need to tell you. Something important."

Minthara’s brow furrowed slightly in concern, her grip on you tightening just a fraction. "What is it, my love?" she asked, her voice low and hushed, as though she already sensed the gravity of your words.

You placed a hand on your stomach, the gesture subtle yet significant, drawing Minthara’s gaze downwards.

"I'm pregnant," you said softly, the words hanging in the air between you. "We’re going to have a child, Minthara. A child of our own."

For a moment, Minthara simply stared at you, her expression unreadable. The silence stretched on, and you wondered if perhaps she was in shock, struggling to process what you had just told her. But then, slowly, the edges of her lips curled into a smile—an expression so rare and beautiful that it took your breath away.

"You’re carrying my child?" Minthara’s voice was filled with awe, her hand reaching out to gently touch your stomach, almost as if she couldn’t quite believe it herself. "You’re carrying my heiress?"

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the certainty in her voice. "Heiress?" you teased lightly. "How do you know it’s a girl?"

Minthara’s eyes met yours, and there was a glint of possessive pride in them as she smirked.

"I can just tell," she said, her tone confident, almost as if it were a challenge for you to question her instincts. Without hesitation, she leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your stomach, the touch of her lips sending a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the fire nearby.

The kiss was filled with reverence, her possessiveness flaring in a way that was both intense and comforting. When she looked back up at you, her gaze was fierce with determination.

"This child," she whispered, her voice low and possessive, "will be our legacy. Our bond, our love, made flesh. She will be strong, like you. She will be fierce, like me. And she will be ours."

Minthara’s hand remained on your stomach, as though she was staking her claim, ensuring that you knew, and that the world knew, that this child belonged to both of you.

"No one will harm you, or her," Minthara vowed, her voice growing more intense. "I will see to it that you are both protected, cherished, and revered. You are mine, and so is she."

You could feel the intensity of Minthara’s emotions in every word, every touch. The fierce drow warrior, who had always been so strong, so unyielding, was now revealing a side of herself that was vulnerable and deeply protective. It made your heart swell with love for her, and you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

Minthara pulled you close, her embrace both gentle and possessive, her lips brushing against your forehead as she whispered, "You’ve given me a gift beyond measure, my love. I will not fail you. I will not fail her."

In that moment, you knew that Minthara’s love for you, and for the child you carried, was unbreakable. And as you leaned into her, feeling the strength of her arms around you, you knew that no matter what came next, you would never be alone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Raphael:

The grand, opulent room of Raphael’s abode was dimly lit by the soft glow of enchanted lanterns. The rich, crimson curtains were drawn, casting a warm, inviting hue over the elegant furnishings. You paced restlessly, feeling the weight of the news you needed to share with Raphael pressing heavily on your shoulders. His usual aura of confident elegance seemed more distant than ever, and you could sense his sharp eyes watching you with curiosity and a hint of concern.

You had tried to summon the courage to tell him earlier, but each time you opened your mouth, the words seemed to falter. Raphael’s disdain for children was no secret, and you couldn’t help but fear how he would react to the news of your pregnancy. It wasn’t just a matter of his feelings towards children; it was about the future you both shared and how this new life might change everything.

Raphael, sensing your distress, had taken it upon himself to investigate. His elegant footsteps echoed softly as he approached, his eyes narrowing with a mix of frustration and worry.

“Darling,” he began, his voice smooth but tinged with concern, “I can see something is troubling you. You’ve been unusually distant lately. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

You stopped pacing and turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. His piercing gaze seemed to demand an answer, and you couldn’t avoid it any longer. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

“Raphael… I have something important to tell you,” you said, your voice trembling slightly.

Raphael’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of genuine curiosity crossing his face. “Oh? What is it, my love? You know you can tell me anything.”

You hesitated, then finally forced the words out. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, there was a stunned silence. Raphael’s eyes widened further, his usually unflappable composure momentarily shaken. He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more urgent tone. “Pregnant? You… you’re with child?”

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yes. I was worried about how you would react, especially given your… feelings towards children.”

Raphael’s expression shifted from shock to something softer, a hint of hurt flickering behind his eyes. He stepped forward, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm.

“You think so little of me that you’d believe I would cast aside you and our child?” His voice, though gentle, carried an edge of reproach.

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with regret. “I just wasn’t sure how you’d feel. I know you’ve never been fond of children, and I didn’t want to burden you with this.”

Raphael’s features softened, and he sighed deeply, as though releasing a long-held breath.

“How could you think that I would reject you, or our child?” he said, his tone earnest. “Yes, I have my reservations about the little brats that plague this world, but you and our heir are different. You are my love, and this child… this child is a part of us.”

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the affection that he had always hidden behind his devilish charm.

“I would never abandon you or our child,” he continued, stepping closer and cupping your face in his hands. “I may not be the most traditional of fathers, but I will embrace this responsibility. You have my word.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, your worries melting away as Raphael’s words sank in.

“Really? You mean it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Raphael nodded, his gaze unwavering. “Of course, my love. The thought of our child brings me a sense of… unexpected joy. I suppose it’s a sign of my affection for you that I am willing to embrace this new chapter.”

He leaned in and kissed you gently, his touch tender and reassuring.

“We will face this together,” he murmured against your lips. “You, me, and our little one. We will build a future that is ours alone, one that defies expectations and embraces our unique bond.”

You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. “Thank you, Raphael. I was so afraid of what you might say.”

He smiled, his eyes reflecting a genuine warmth you rarely saw. “There is nothing to fear, my dear. As long as we have each other, we can face anything.”

As you held each other, you felt a deep sense of peace and gratitude. Raphael’s love and acceptance made the future seem bright, and you knew that together, you would welcome this new life with open hearts.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[justporo]

Could I request no. 44 (Public Kisses) please?

Maybe the kisser proving the kissee that they don’t care who’s watching and that they’re proud to be with them

(with either Astarion being worried about Tav being seen with ‘an undead’ or Durge worrying about Star being seen with a Bhaalspawn).

Thank you!

Last one for the kiss prompts - allow me to take the "not caring who watches" a bit further even. I fully didn't intend this to become this long (like always...) but here we are... Oh, and then I edited it and it became even longer. Enjoy Tav making clear they belong to Astarion and vice versa!

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) | Wordcount: 2,2k | Warnings: light mention of violence / Act 2 spoilers

MASTERLIST | AO3

Affirmations

Everyone was staring - all the time.

It wasn't enough already that, entering Moonrise Towers again, meant venturing deep into the lion's den. But to add to this you couldn't even go unnoticed.

Of course not, you were a True Soul! In touch with the Absolute itself! Destined for great things! So there wasn't a single moment without a pair of eyes upon you. And you hated it - deeply.

Quite frankly, it seemed like the primary requisite to becoming a cultist of the Absolute was being way too fucking nosey. But you had to be honest with yourself you were at least partly to blame with the scene you had caused with this godsdamned drow yesterday.

Just thinking about her made your blood boil again. Just the way she had looked at you, but most of all Astarion. The arrogance, the unquestioned privilege - it immediately conjured another wave of bile rising up within you.

If not for the sake of the greater mission you would have very much liked shredding her to pieces so she would have never been able to even look at Astarion again. You would have done it with a pleasant smile on your face. But alas, it would have only complicated matters even further

Your visceral reaction had been surprising even to you. Normally you weren’t one for excessive blood shed. Actually you much more liked solving things without weapons: talking your way out of situations, tricking others. That was much more your style. But your bloodlust, brought on by a powerful urge to protect Astarion, had almost taken the better of you yesterday.

It had shaken you; not least  your companions as well - and most of all Astarion.

All the way back to camp the vampire had been barely able to hide his wild mix of feelings - shock, admiration, insecurity. You had felt his wide red eyes on you the whole time and had known that something was about to happen. A tipping point had been reached.

But you hadn't even remotely been prepared for what had followed when Astarion had approached you when everyone else had already retired to their tents for the evening.

On the other end of the night the two of you had come out with a new layer added to your bond: fresh still, barely fully formed - but fueled by both of your deep desires to hold onto the other and not let go.

Immediately, it had been weird for the two of you after. The next morning you had barely been able to look at each other. Simply because this was daunting for either of you. Hells, not even the two of you knew how to go on from this but you were determined to make it work. And unsteadiness had quickly turned to small glances, short touches in passing as you all got ready for a new day ahead, affirming smiles - and some suspicion from your fellow companions.

When you had made your way back to the godsdamned towers you had felt uneasiness rise up again, tendrils of negative feelings forming a tight knot in your chest.

And in an overly brave moment you had grabbed for Astarion's hand when you had been about to enter the towers again - repeating a gesture from last night. Wishing to feel same kind of warmth and steadiness again and also relaying the same sentiment to the vampire you saw slightly nervously move his head to loosen the tension in his neck.

It had made the vampire almost recoil as he looked at you with shocked wide eyes and you were sure you had heard a surprised gasp from your other companions behind you. But when you had tried to let go again, immediately regretting your short-circuit action, you found that Astarion had been lightly holding on to your hand and had thrown you a small smile. You would have called it coy with anyone else but him.

The gesture hadn’t gone unnoticed by Lae’zel whose eyes had been steadily narrowed at the both of you from there on out.

Only when you had come across the first guards had Astarion let go, but not without squeezing your hand in his a last time. 

You had stayed close to each other walking through the headquarters of the Absolute, trying to investigate this damned place further. An unsettling feeling was filling all of you but the only thing you could do was trying to pull through.

In the main hall - Ketheric's throne thankfully empty - most of the cultists had gathered for some strategy discussion. So, an excellent opportunity to listen in on them and maybe find someone to squeeze for some more information.

Thankfully, Gale and Shadowheart had somewhat taken the lead today giving you and Astarion some time to recover from everything that had happened. You were standing next to the vampire - your partner now, you reminded yourself - stealing glances up at him from time to time. He usually caught you while he stood there, arms crossed over his chest, throwing you a small smile in response that always made you turn away again, slightly blushing. But then you also noticed him peering at you out of the corner of his eyes. And despite your dire situation as a whole you couldn’t help but feel a little giddiness inside of you - maybe all wasn’t lost after all.

At the moment, Gale was talking to another higher-up drow, trying to convince her to give up some more details about Ketheric Thorm. She very much was having none of it, but the wizard kept deliberately trying. Shadowheart, meanwhile, did next to nothing to keep him from verbally digging his own grave.

It was then that you felt the hairs of your neck stand up and felt someone staring at you. With a sinister suspicion, you turned to look over your shoulder to find: Araj Oblodra looking at you angrily. The drow from the day before was openly staring at the two of you, after having just entered the hall, wearing a massive displeased snarl on her face.

You immediately felt your own face sour, a deep fold forming between your furrowed brows. At your negative reaction Astarion’s brows drew together quizzically and he looked over his shoulder as well. When he found what you were looking at his nose scrunched up in distaste, mirroring you closely. You even heard a low growl rumble in his chest. Had he been unsure yesterday how to react you had worked wonders to help him draw a line. Astarion’s repulsion was radiating off him, almost physical.

The drow kept staring. And so did you - not willing to give her the impression that her presence was bothering you.

Moments became minutes while Gale kept rambling with some half-hearted support from Shadowheart (the rest of the group staying painfully silent). Meanwhile, others noticed the silent staring contest across the room. Even more pairs of eyes were observing you now. Probably everyone here knew to the tiniest detail what had gone down yesterday. And the longer this moment was drawn out, the more you felt your grip on your emotions slip. One of your hands had formed into a fist at your side - nails biting into the flesh of your palm and leaving crescent moon indents behind.

Then an idea, or just an impulse really, sprung to your mind. Your eyes jumped to Astarion who was still staring down Araj through his brows, crimson eyes sparkling dangerously. One of his hands had casually wandered to the dagger at his side, wrist languidly resting on its hilt. A leisure threat, but an open one.

“Astarion,” you whispered silently to him, “you trust me, yes?”

The vampire’s brows furrowed a bit more, gaze flitting to you, then back to the drow still glaring at you.

“Of course, my love. Why-,” he began and quickly looked at you again. Then he interrupted himself. He must’ve seen your intention on your face and now he turned his head to fully look at you. His fingers unconsciously clenched around the pommel of his dagger now, focused on something entirely else than making barely hidden threats.

You threw him a questioning glance as you took a deep breath. He lightly nodded, a soft smile curling up one side of his mouth while he turned to you.

And then, before you would get too scared, you moved to grab Astarion’s face with both hands, stepped even closer to him and stood on your tiptoes to reach for his lips with your own.

There was another short moment before your mouths met in the kiss: his full lips slightly parting, his eyes open almost vulnerable, glinting with something much different from the anger before, if not less passionate.

A shaky breath left you as you stared up at him. You knew you must be pretty much mirroring his expression at this moment.

And you were sure that this, all of this, had been the right decision.

Then your lips met. A sigh immediately wandered from your mouth to his as Astarion kissed you open-mouthed, softly opening up yours. Then his tongue shortly ran over your lips, then entered your mouth, taking up yours in a dance you were already familiar with.

Astarion’s arms moved around you. He placed his hands on your hips but immediately let them wander to your behind to pull you closer to him, making you almost slam into his body. You felt him grinning as he did that. A yelp left your mouth, pleasantly surprised by his initiative, but didn’t break the kiss for a single moment.

You had done this dozens over dozens of times, almost the exact same motions. It had been enticing and electrifying each time, enjoying each time it had happened.

But this was different. Everyone’s eyes were on you. You were making it very official what you were to each other. Not only to your friends but for the whole world to see. And in that sense it felt very much like a first kiss altogether.

The passion was there, as Astarion kept deepening the kiss, turning his head, looking at you intensely as you batted your eyes open for a short moment. His hands were stroking up and down your back while yours had entered his hair, tugging on some curls, pulling his head closer.

Somewhere in the middle you had almost forgotten that you weren’t alone. You felt him smile as you desperately wanted to keep going. Gods, you never wanted to let go again.

But Astarion slightly withdrew, his lips hovering slightly over yours, looking at you through his lashes. His voice was sinful. “Think we’ve given them enough of a show, darling?”

You frowned, shook your head. And without another word you pulled him in again as you heard a low laughter from him vibrate through his chest and by proxy through your body as well. He was intoxicating and he knew it. You’d given him the room to start feeling good about it. And you were merely getting started.

The kiss went on for another few moments although becoming softer now, slower. Less a show than a treat for the two of you. Then you softly lifted your mouth from his and looked up at him: breathless and a little shaky now, but a wicked smile already forming on your lips from the passionate kiss as you were still on your tiptoes.

Astarion mirrored your smirk before he pressed a quick peck to the tip of your nose - in just a whim of the moment. His arms were still firmly around you, holding you close to him. You kept smiling at him.

And then your smile grew icy and vicious as you turned to Araj who was looking at you in shock now. You let your tongue run over your bared teeth as you kept up the eye contact, daring her. And eventually the drow turned away, unsettled while your grin grew even broader.

You noticed that almost everyone else around you had also turned away from the public show of passionate affection. Only some still dared to look at you out of the corner of their eyes.

A victorious smile crept onto your face as you looked at Astarion again who looked at you with his signature smirk and a keen sense of pride he didn’t even try to hide.

Then, after a while, you turned to the other side.

And were faced with your friends staring at you in disbelief, just blinking at the two of you. Even the unshakable Lae’zel looked slightly irritated, not being able to hold your gaze for long

“Hot!” Karlach exclaimed, her expression of shock quickly turning to a smug, broad grin. And in true Karlach fashion she gave you a thumbs-up and a wink - causing you to blush and bite your lip. “Get a tent, am I right?”

You must have gone a little overboard with your public display of your newly formed bond. Your heart dropped a little. But Astarion only softly laughed at that and affectionately bit into the tip of your pointy ear. Seemingly the ice for public displays of affection had been broken for him - with a cannonball.

“So, you guys are official now?”, Wyll asked while cocking his head, looking kind of sceptical. Shadowheart just rolled her eyes, while Gale seemed stuck in a state of being too flustered to react.

“I guess you could say that, little lord”, Astarion answered, grinning smugly, one eyebrow twitching and pulled you to his chest again with one arm casually around your waist. He couldn’t keep a proud tone out of his voice as he looked down at you again.

Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06

[thiriann]

The Ascension and the sexual implications of it

We all remember the post from a few weeks ago that circled here. I didn't go through with the Ascension from a purely game sense "this is clearly evil " standpoint. I didn't really understand why it's evil or even more why it's sexual. Some analyses have floated around here and tumblr that mentioned it's because "vampires are a sexy fantasy". Well, yes but you're getting a vampire either way, aren't you?

I didn't manage to connect the dots until I started looking into possible ways for him to walk in the sun. It seems the only reliable one is a “Wish” spell. But that seems to turn the vampire mortal again. Now, that didn't sit right with me. If Ascension was changing him, this was even more of an "I'll fix him" situation. But I thought, would he even agree? He's so power hungry probably giving up on being a vampire would be the last thing he'd agree on. But the more I thought about it, the more it became clear to me that he actually has a strong dislike for being a vampire. If you tell him his reflection is a small price to pay for vampire powers he answers "To you, maybe." He loves seeing the sun again, all the colors. He can't see or remember his eyes, which if we take into literary view, eyes being the windows to the soul we could say it shows his disconnect with his soul, with his humanity. He absolutely hates the hunger urges that come with vampirism, saying they make him pathetic and it's the worst version of himself. And of course, the sexual part. He hasn't actually seen any perks of vampirism, just that it makes you an object of desire, a thing used only for sex. That is the only side of vampirism he has managed to experience and that is what he connects it with.

The point in the story that clearly connects his vampire nature to sexuality is the talk with the blood merchant. She is a drow, her society already views men as slaves good for one thing. But she doesn't ask him for sex, she asks him for a bite yet it's just as sexual. It shows the player that vampires are sex objects yet again. But whatever is left of him, of his soul and humanity is very separated from his vampire form. He doesn't take being a vampire as an identity but separates himself from it, calling it an affliction, or condition. So why push him further into nature that he doesn't accept or enjoy?

At many points he mentions there's almost nothing left of the man he was, whatever little is left of his soul, etc. He believes he doesn't have much to offer, especially after sex is off the table. That is why it's so important to remove sex from your romantic relationship for him. While obviously, it's a time for healing, it's also a time to actually connect to the person behind the vampire. The person he used to be before he became a sex object.

And that is the same if you choose his spawn romance ending. You pick the man he managed to remain despite everything that happened. That's why his post-scene at the grave is basically a rebirth of him, of his humanity. While the romance post-scene of the Ascension is a rebirth of you. You chose to reduce him to a vampire, to an object, and even went as far as to objectify yourself as well by accepting the vampire nature. And ultimately, that's all that's left of him, the vampire. The person he was is gone completely.

I'd just like to add that a lot of people like to bring up that they let the other characters make their own choices but that's a weak point. Shadowheart's choice is very influenced by your choices/approval and let's not forget she would actually kill Lae'zel if you don't get involved, you literally have to choose if you sell Wyll's soul or not, and Lae'zel would kill you if you don't stop her.

Also, there is the argument that he wants this. And for that, I can only guess based on my speculations, that despite all the power hunger brought from whatever feelings, survival, fear, selfishness -until the very last moment he hadn't made up his mind. He even tells you this before you enter Cazador's chamber. He won't know what he'll do before he faces him. His turmoil is obvious. You can tell him this isn't him, not really. And he responds that it should be, he doesn't want to be pathetic.

The choice for the ascension never was his, as it never was for him. He himself saw no way out, just like when he was under Cazador. And the temptation that was obviously present at the idea of being just like Cazador. The choice there was for you.

For the player, whether it'd be as a lover or a friend.Do you want the man or the vampire?

[pursuitseternal]

“Possessing:” jealous, possessive Astarion in a double smut update for “Our Blood is Thicker,” featuring a first-time flashback 💞

Astarion x Cordehlia (F!OC) | E | 8.7 K possessive and first time smut

Summary: the Shadow-Cursed lands resurrect more for Cordehlia than an old enemy— more memories and griefs that Astarion can’t recall. If only there was some way to show Astarion their past… memories that kindle the same possessive desires of the past and new professions of… love in the present.

CW: angst, longing, jealousy, possessive Astarion, Kind Uncle Vibes Halsin, arrogant young Astarion, first time hand job, first time fingering, teenage sneaking for sex, inappropriate tadpole use if you squint, absolute feral rutting once the memory is done.

Previous Chapter | AO3 | Masterlist

Chapter 10: Possessing

🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️

Astarion could feel the rage building in his love, shuddering with tension off their leader. They all could. Waves of scarlet temper fluctuating as the Drow inside Moonrise Towers insisted on talking despite Cordehlia’s death stare… insisting on talking with Astarion. This Araj… as she introduced herself with the overconfidence of youth and privilege.

Cordehlia hated her already for both. And more.

Her companions held their breath, watching for those quick and deadly fingers of hers to reach for that shining dagger. And they all wanted to close their eyes the moment they heard the Drow, some expert in blood magic and potions, slather her attentions on The Spawn who pressed at Cordehlia’s side. “I’ve always dreamed of being bitten…”

“Uh oh,” Wyll bemoaned under his breath, taking the opportunity to grab at the she-elf’s elbow and whisper in her pointed ear while the Drow was busy making all her intentions known to Astarion. “Have care, for as much as you would like to run the monster throgh, it would not make things easy for us. Unless you wish to face Ketheric from the inside of a cell…”

“Or dead,” Gale added in her other ear.

Cordehlia gave a single, unwilling nod, rolling her shoulders and crossing her arms. Just as the expert in all things sanguine returned her dark eyes on the rest of them. “Can’t you talk some sense into your charge?”

Cordehlia’s fiery eyebrows raised slowly at that. “My charge?” she spoke between pressed lips. A wave of rebuke held back barely by their need to remain inconspicuous. “My vampire is his own being, he can choose who he bites, who he fucks, whom he loves, who he kills…”

“I’m sure he truly believes that,” the Drow laughed. Disparaging.

“Want a demonstration?” Cordehlia added quickly, a single corner of her mouth turning towards a smile.

“It’s alright, darling,” Astarion turned to meet her stare, caught somewhere between aroused and intimidated himself as it turned to lock those narrowed, hungry, enraged eyes on him.

“Oh, oh I see,” Araj gave a disparaging laugh. “You think he’s yours. All yours. I promise, I’ll leave your lover’s lower regions untouched, I only want a bite. In exchange, I’ll give you a potion so great, you’ll never find another like it in the realms…”

“I’ll thank you to never mention my lower regions again,” Astarion hissed.

“And he said no to you,” Cordehlia snapped, closing one step between her enemy and her beloved. “You can keep clear of us, Drow, of me, my companions, and my vampire. What need do we have of watered down power like blood potions when we have the blessing of the Absolute. I wonder why they keep you here at all.”

That made everyone behind her stiffen, every set of eyes scanning for enemies. Just in case.

But Araj laughed. “Fine, linger in your ignorance with your lover. Savor it while your bodies still haven’t burst into a mess of tentacles. See how romantic your nights of coupling are then… True Soul…”

Three sets of hands pressed against Cordehlia’s back then, but only one pulled her into his arm, tugging her along and back into the halls of Moonrise Towers. “Gods,” Astarion scolded her gently right into her ear as they paused on the outer walls of the tower, “your jealousy nearly got us all killed.”

Was he… angry?

She snapped her neck, turning to scowl right into his face. But that raging expression melted the moment she looked into his. He was so soft, so adoring, head tilted slightly as those crimson eyes widened and brushed over her face.

Until they rested on her lips, pursed tightly.

“That pleases you?” she managed to rasp as her tempers cooled.

“To hear you might just risk bringing the whole army of the Absolute down on us because some other female is pining for me to take a bite?” he smirked wickedly, completely possessive and naughty as his eyes looked to her neck. “And they say romance is dead, darling…”

Just as his palm cupped her cheek, tilting her face so close to his, her warm breath filled his undead lungs and coated his tongue with her taste… Gale cleared his throat.

Loudly. Distracting. Intentionally.

“Need I remind everyone that we stand literally on the precipice of the Absolute’s power? That Ketheric Thorm and his army are literally everywhere…”

“And all you two want to do is fuck,” Karlach burst in with a laugh. “I mean, it’s not a bad plan, it’s just not a plan to take down our enemies, soldier.”

Cordehlia rolled her eyes, gripping the back of his neck in her gauntleted hands. Unable to deny herself just a quick kiss, even at the heart of their enemy’s domain. “Fine,” she sighed. “We find the secret to bringing down this… General, but if anyone comes to try to take any of you from me,” she tapped a finger on Astarion’s perfect, aquiline nose, “especially you… they will find it very hard to think with a dagger buried in their skull.”

“Again, such poetry, such romance,” her vampire purred, his arms struggling to release her. Not that he wanted to either.

They made their way back inside the Tower, and thoughts swirled in Cordehlia’s head, the haze of memories beginning to pierce through that constant blanket of lust Astarion seemed to draw about her at all times.

“Right,” she huffed under her breath. “Let’s go find this imposter who calls himself the General….”

“Imposter?” a deep voice rumbled quietly as Halsin turned around. “How do you mean?”

Cordehlia stopped, the others continuing a few paces ahead. “Ketheric is dead, weren’t you there? Did you not fight in vain glory for his defeat alongside Harpers and Druids and Elves? Did you not see the countless souls sacrificed to put that monster in a tomb?”

“I did,” his pale green eyes scanned her face with all the wisdom and insight three-hundred years lends. “You speak as one who knows of such things yourself, young one.”

Cordehlia’s mouth shut tight. Locking her lips in silence, keeping whatever it was that simmered behind her silver eyes within her.

“I may have joined your band to help break this curse that darkens the land, but make no mistake,” he paused before turning to follow, “I will help do whatever is necessary. But to do so, I need to know more than I can read on your own wizened face.”

She shrugged, pushing past the enormous Druid to rejoin the others. “In good time, perhaps…”

But her words dried up the second she stood on the edge of the gathering in the throne room.

He was there. In flesh. Ancient, grey, undead flesh.

Ketheric Thorm, half-elf, great general, and dead no longer.

Cordehlia heard nothing as she watched with frozen horror the scene before her unblinking eyes. An ax, launched from the hand of some goblin about to be punished for their failure, sliced right into the General’s armor. His great, gauntleted hand pulled it free, as if it were no more than a dull knife in butter.

Immortal. Just as they all had said… back from the dead…

And as she tried to steel over her face and steady her nerves, she forced more of those shadows from her past deep down inside her. They would have to be ignored. For now.

It wasn’t until they were back on the shadow-cursed trails, sent to find the mysterious relic that granted the immortal Ketheric Thorm his power, that Cordehlia finally felt her tenuous hold on reality and on her past begin to slip.

It was a century ago… a lifetime ago, a time when she wandered between losing the love of her life and falling under the spell of bloodlust the Bone Picker loved. Before she found herself totally alone. Not-quite widowed, but decidedly orphaned.

And now, her feet traced the same paths and vaulting roots from dying trees he must have…

Her father.

She kept herself busy, hurrying at the front of the group as they moved headlong into the dark and cursed forest.

“We really should make camp,” Shadowheart commented, “there are many dangers ahead, and we wouldn’t wait to face those exhausted.”

“A wise idea,” Halsin affirmed. “We can get a new start with the dawn… or,” he grinned a bit sheepishly, looking at the lands cursed to eternal darkness, “…if not dawn, at least when we are all rested.”

A few laughs sounded from the group as they headed for safer ground. But not Astarion. And not Cordehlia. She gave that smile that didn’t meet her eyes, holding her shoulders slumped down as if she carried that massive, invisible weight. He could almost feel it himself, just by looking at her. Slowly, he drew nearer, falling within earshot. Within arms reach, should she need him.

But she kept her attention on the Druid, locked in as they headed up the path. “Halsin…” she added, voice shaking just a bit, “you… fought to bring Ketheric down… the first time I mean?”

“Giving up your claim of being an imposter?” the Druid teased, instantly regretting the jovial tone as he saw the lines of her face. As he read her pain. “What troubles you?”

Cordehlia glanced beside her, face easing to find Astarion at her side. First in her heart. Always at her side. “These… ruined battlefields, where so many lives were lost, you’ve been here, Halsin. Tell me, did you fight beside the elven hosts?”

Halsin stopped short. That weight in her voice flooded with knowledge. He froze, nearly mid-step. “I thought you looked familiar…” he commented, almost to himself, eyes scanning the she-elf.

“Why?” Astarion interjected, curious if not a tad bit defensive at the familiarity.

“Of course, Star Elf, red hair that shock of brightness. A temper to defy the gods. You’re the daughter of General Aquilae, aren’t you? You’re just as ferocious in battle, just as passionate and hot-tempered.” The Druid tilted his head, starting to walk again. “I am… sorry for your loss. Sorry his sacrifice must feel like it's in vain with Ketheric back from the dead…”

“Don’t assume to know how I feel,” Cordehlia snapped, chin jutting up, barely meeting the large male’s chest-height. But fierce in demeanor. “Sorry,” she relinquished, that defiance instantly retreating back inside her carefully crafted shell.

“Quite alright. You’re in pain, grieving. But even grief heals, all things heal. Nature will heal, as hearts will too,” Halsin grinned gently, “but it takes time and… many ways of seeking solace…”

Astarion couldn’t fight the way his eyes tweaked in suspicion, hackles raising at the informality. As long as it was his tent that her solace was sought for…

“Aquilae…” Astarion let the name roll off his tongue. Something inside his mind thawing, something creeping into the light. “Is that… your name?”

What normally would have made a tender smile come to her full, pink lips made them scowl instead. “For once… for once, it would be a boon to have you either remember your past, or not ask such obvious questions.” She bit at every word. Her shoulders squared at him, armored and taught.

Those crimson eyes narrowed at her, his mouth hardened into a flat line. An exterior of equal adamant to resist her anger. And to hide his hurt.

“Well, darling,” he shook his head quickly, derisively. “I apologize for my shortcomings,” his gaze darted to the Druid who still lumbered beside her. “And I’ll leave you two to… reminisce correctly, then.” The vampire pushed his way between them, heading for the bustling group as they hurriedly and anxious made a small camp, setting magic wards and torches against the Shadows.

Cordehlia’s heart sank, her stomach knotted, making her want to puke right there and then on cursed grounds, watching him stride from her so quickly.

That exterior of injured pride, that mask of indifference hiding his own pain. Pain she caused. Pain flowed from her own.

Halsin cleared his throat softly. “He means a great deal to you, the Elf. The others gossip about your past constantly. Your Wizard, in particular, seems rather… put out that Astarion has meant so much to you,” the Druid sat himself down on a log, the wood creaking beneath his sheer mass.

But Cordehlia was too uncomfortable to do anything more than sway in place as her eyes darted between her Druid and the rest of her party. Not as if she were watching for every pissed-off dart of her silver-haired vampire in the mix.

“I… believe I know your history, or at least as much of it as the rest do…”

She scoffed, fingers beginning to unbuckle her armor methodically, absentmindedly. “More than he probably recalls,” she huffed under her breath. “If only… things were easier. Not just the tadpole and the Absolute… but with him.”

“Nature does not have regrets, young elf, only growth,” he smiled slightly, his scarred face turning with that wise happiness. “Besides, for as much as you resemble your father, the General…”

“He still seems like the pampered, arrogant, devastatingly handsome son of our High Lord and Lady?” she sniffed, suddenly feeling the warm pull of those years, however ancient they may be.

“I suspected as much. Your father only ever spoke to us briefly, to the point, not unlike his formidable daughter when she feels the need…”

That made Cordehlia grin softly once more.

“He had said once, on the eve of battle, he regretted risking his daughter to lose another… that you had already lost so much of your heart, an engagement to the next High Lord ending in tragedy.”

Halsin paused, turning to follow her own sharp, unerring gaze into the mess of companions. Watching as her eyes followed her lover through the crowd, her whole being growing heavier with grief each second that passed.

He let her breathe in silence a moment, waiting for her to speak. At last, something seemed to ease within her. “He was my everything, Halsin. My childhood playmate, my first kiss, my… first of many things…” Her voice was steady, aching with grief and joy mixed into one weighty tone. “He defied his parents to ask for my hand, well… his weakness for planning ahead worked that once, for as much… shame as it could have brought on us both. But I didn’t care. I had him.”

“The son of the High Lord and the daughter of the General must not have been such a match to frown upon,” Halsin sounded.. wistful. Cordehlia wasn’t sure. But she turned to look anyway. “At least now, for whatever darkness you both have endured, you share in one another’s burdens. But you can’t fault him for how he has… survived his pain by pushing down his memories. They will return, in time, as all things…”

“In nature heal,” Cordehlia finished with a laugh. “You’re rather predictable, Druid.”

“Three-hundred and fifty years, and you learn the value of consistency, young one,” he laughed, standing from the log. “Now, we better return before your vampire’s jealousy turns its hungry attention on me as a threat.”

Cordelia gathered the plates of her armor she had removed, walking them towards camp. And then she paused. Cursing.

Of course… as it had been of late, since that night in the Emerald Grove, all her things were in… his tent. Her stomach sank. She… wasn’t ready to face him yet. Wasn’t ready for his chilled anger or his glare of simmering rage, or his little frown of hurt.

But she swallowed her dread and headed towards that stretched structure of red and rose fabric.

It was already so dark, just the flickers of torchlight dancing to show her the way. Pausing, her hand hesitated before it pulled back the flap so she could enter. Cordehlia swallowed, why was she so nervous, he night not even be inside. Might be out hunting… or helping… or…

Before any other thought could make her hesitate longer, a pale hand shot out at her from within, wrapping its cold, undead touch around her wrist, and dragged her inside his darkened domain.

His tent was blacker than pitch. Even for her elf-eyes, it took her a moment to adjust her sights. But she could feel him around her, grabbing her from behind, hand around her chin, arm clutched around her waist, as he pulled her within.

“I didn’t think you’d come, darling…” his voice chilled her marrow, all the jealousy she had imagined inside him biting his words. “Thought you’d be too busy strolling down memory lane with someone who could walk with you…” his lips pushed against the edge of her ear, nipping it with his fangs, “just as you’ve always wanted…”

“You know what I want…” she murmured, arching against the confines of his body.

“Hmmm,” he taunted, and she could feel his breath trailing down her neck. “I thought I did… I’m surprised that you’re here, not indulging in some time with your warm-blooded companion who knows you… and most likely wants to… know you.” His mouth sucked on her ear, “carnally, to be clear.”

“Tch, tch,” she forced her body to twist in his hold, landing the point of her elbow in his gut to make his grip ease. Savoring the little grunted “oof” he made. “Don’t think so low of yourself, my love,” she breathed, scanning the way his face twitched between suspicion and arousal. “As if I could take anyone else, now that I have you back with me at last…”

She meant it, every word. Those eyes soft with sincerity, those lips already slightly puckered to invite him closer.

But he still had too much jealousy gripping his undead heart, too much ice flowing in his veins yet. “You’d rather have someone remember, I know, someone who knew your name, your father, someone who recognizes the family resemblance of your temper to match your hair… someone who can match the… intimacy you seek with your memories in the same way they might with your delicious body.” He pouted, those full lips of his frowning in taunting disapproval. “If only there was some way for us to share thoughts and memories, mind to mind…” he turned to give her the full power of his gaze then, and it made her lose her breath with his beauty, his intensity. That rakish cant of his brows and the haze of hunger in his eyes.

Her brows raised slowly, her smile spreading. “What are you suggesting, Astarion?”

He let his fangs show, his hands gripped into the soft flesh of her upper arms. “Show me, show me everything. Use the parasite, link your mind to mine, for I’ll be damned if anyone…” he growled with a snap of his jaw, “anyone lays a claim to you more than me.”

“Why, Master Ancunìn,” she smirked, running the pads of her fingers down that sharp cut of his jaw, “jealousy does rather become you.”

He stiffened beneath his touch, the muscles of his jaw tweaking as he clenched.

“You’re… not just jealous, are you?”

His eyes cast to the side. Just enough hint of remorse, of regret and longing softened his face.

“I… can’t explain it,” he whispered, almost sounding frightened to let the words out. “All I have known for so long is to manipulate, to do as I was commanded, to use my body and bury my mind, my feelings so far down, I… forgot what it was to think or feel for myself.”

His hands began to wander, to stroke her smooth skin and taught muscles beneath her shirt.

“And then, I found you, or rather, you found me. You forced me to confront those parts of me I neglected in order to survive. You made me rediscover what it meant to want a person…to want anything for myself. Like how you almost tore the throat of that vile Drow today, just for assuming you could compel me to bite her fetid flesh.”

He breathed, that jealousy still crept close by, his fingers insistent on her flesh, even with all the vulnerability that flooded his voice.

“I… should say thank you, my darling, but I would rather show you my gratitude. Rather stand at your side as equals, knowing everything that makes you… you.”

“That makes us… us,” she added, a smile soft on her lips. Her hand held his, pulling him down along with her, sitting on the mess of his blankets and pillows he called a bed. Before he could even settle completely, she crawled in his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist, cradling his cheek in her palm. His eyes bore into hers, the intensity, the possessiveness, the curiosity burning bright in the deep red of his eyes. “What would you wish to see?” she asked softly.

“Show me your father, show me you… show me our first moments, our sweetest moments, our most sensual, our most painful,” he rasped, brows furrowed with his ardor. “I want to recall… everything…”

She paused for a breath, eyes closing as if she searched those memories. Finally, her silver eyes opened, her gaze was languid, distant, and desirous. “Open yourself to me,” she whispered so close to his own parted lips.

A single brow arched in humor, “That's my line, darling…”

Before she could tease him or roll her eyes, their minds smashed into one another, their tadpoles humming as the world around them instantly disappeared….

———

“What do you have to say for yourself, lordling?” General Aquilae stared at him with those piercing dark eyes. Sharp like the eagle, the bird of prey after which he was named. “Son of the High Lord, caught watching our daughter bathing, you know there will be repercussions even your parents can’t pull enough strings to free you from…” The warrior’s voice rumbled like thunder, towering over where the young elf male stood in his study.

But Astarion gave no ground, arms crossed over the pale green of his tunic, the golden threads of its intricate embroidery catching the firelight as night began to fall. His sharp features smiled slightly, his deep violet eyes dancing as he watched the warrior pacing back and forth, that silver shock of hair barely tamed, same as he was as a youth, barely more tamed than the willful elfing that ran about with his daughter.

And now… now they would be inseparable. They had to be.

“You know what you have done has sealed Cordehlia’s fate as much as your own, little lord?” the general added. His voice sharp, direct.

“I would hope so, Commander,” Astarion purred in reply, “I thought my affections for your daughter were on… full display this afternoon.”

General Aquilae pressed his thick fingers into his temples, rubbing them as if to ease a headache. “You know, Astarion, most young males court their intendeds with letters or poems or art or song… not their cock in their hand as they watch them bathing.”

Astarion shrugged, coolly and casually. “I have never been like most young males, Commander. You have always known that, as loyal friend of my parents, their faithful General…”

“You can leave your parents out of this, boy,” the general straightened. “What will you do to make this right by Cordehlia? Leave her to the shame you’ve inflicted? To the gossip and the ostracization of her peers?”

“I intend to make her mine, General,” he replied. Steadily, those hard, smirking lines of his face easing as his smile dropped.

The commander turned to round one more time across his study, his boots falling harshly against the wooden planks of the floor. Until he drew up short. “It’s close, but you need to be clear, Ancunìn. You’ll make her your what? Mistress, whore…”

“Bride.”

It was a simple word. Uttered so clearly, so matter-of-factly, all ears that heard it frozen.

Her father. And Cordehlia. The sneaky she-elf who peered through the smallest chink in the wall, who held her breath to hear two men discussing her future. But at that word, her heart soared, scared, excited, terrified and… something else she didn’t know. Something that stabbed her like a hot poker in the gut and flooded her abdomen with heat. She could see Astarion’s face perfectly from here; he looked so regal, so confident. So happy. Especially at making her father draw up short and stop, at a loss for words.

“Well, General?” Astarion grinned, smiling so self-assured, so cocky, “do you need me to repeat, sir?”

“No,” the older elf cleared his throat loudly and repeatedly. “Thank you.”

Astarion bowed his silver-tousled head. “If that is set arights, then perhaps I can break the happy news to my intended myself?”

“Firstly,” General Aquilae raised a single thick digit at the boy, “I will set you straight on this point, lordling. You are both far too young by the rights of our people to marry. Prepare yourselves for a long engagement, one where you had better show her nothing but the respect and devotion befitting a female of our status…” he narrowed his large silver eyes down at the boy, “even if it is still beneath your own, Master Acunìn.”

Astarion flashed a bright smile, a deferential bow of his head and shoulders, hand placed graciously over his heart. “On my honor,” he crooned, magnanimous in tone. Just like his parents. “The lady and I will wait for years, for decades, if that is your sage guidance.”

“Not decades, no,” he sniffed in rejoinder. “Don’t be so grandiose, boy. Five years hence at most until you may wed, unless any unexpected, little… surprises… come up in the meantime…”

Violet eyes wide, Astarion remained still at the implication. He swallowed hard, much to her father’s satisfaction. “Yes, General,” he murmured in reply. The meaning was clear enough.

General Aquilae almost laughed at the submission, the immediate effect of discomfort that smacked the boy across his pristine, handsome, and youthful face. It would be enough to scare the boy into caution for the time being. And that would be enough for now. “Allow me to fetch your intended, then.” He crossed towards the door, but paused when the boy gave that signature boisterous giggle.

“No need,” he giggled again. “Cordehlia already has her ear pressed to the wall, eyes peering through keyholes, I shouldn’t wonder…”

That violet, glinting gaze looked right at her… where she had one eye locked through the crack in the wall. A smile dancing on his thick, parted lips.

Quickly, she moved and held her breath, flouncing her gown and making her way as if she were simply strolling by the study door, a little book in hand as if she were lost in reading. Her father threw open the dark wooden door. “Daughter,” he ordered. No other words needed. His lined brow furrowed to see her, in fact, so close to his study.

“Yes, Father?” she lilted, tucking the book neatly against her chest as she folded her arms. “Is… is there something the matter?”

“I’ll let you find out for yourself,” he replied, walking out the door, “but no, nothing the matter.” His rough hand caught his daughter’s fingers from her book, giving them a tender squeeze before he left them to it.

Her heart raced, slowly turning to face that smirking youth in her father’s study. The one who went toe to toe with her father, and lived to tell the tale.

“Astarion,” she beamed, open and exuberant to see him against her better judgment to be coy. “It is late, you know.”

“No better time for a man to call upon his beloved, his intended…” he grinned, all feline and subtle, striding to shut the door behind her. “I don’t need to regale you with all the negotiations do I? You were listening ever so intently from your little hiding spot, weren’t you?”

“Of course,” she smiled, taking a few steps away from where he felt so close to her. Crossing, she sat on the little couch near the fire. And she regretted it the instant he sat immediately beside her. “I… I suppose I should thank…”

“Don’t,” he interjected. “Tch,” he sucked his teeth, a habit of his when teasing her lately, “I told you I would get what I wanted, Cordehlia.”

“And, what was that?” she forced her face into a blank, innocent expression. Wide-eyed and pouting, hiding the laughter that bubbled inside.

“You,” he slowly seemed to lean in. “Despite my parents’ plans for a marriage alliance… despite your father’s hesitations…” his eyes cast down the front of her down, scanning the intricate weave of laces and ribbons that held her in, even as her chest heaved with panting and her bosoms threatened to spill out the top. “Despite even your own thoughts of self-inadequacy…”

“Oh, I do not doubt my own measure, Astarion,” she chided in reply, “I doubt that I will be enough to satisfy you and your… ambitions.”

“Wanting great things out of life means nothing if I can’t share it with you, my…” he whispered, that edge of pretend leaving his silken voice. A single finger pressed under her chin, feeling her throat swallowing and her jaw bobbing as she nervously met his gaze. “Hmmm, what shall I call you now?” he grinned. “My friend seems too unromantic. My intended, my betrothed… those seem so cumbersome.”

“Something simple, sweet and flirtatious,” she smiled, leaning into the heat of his touch, more of his fingers beginning to sweep over her cheek. “Nothing too saccharine… just a little something… darling…”

“Oh,” he gave that secretive half smile of his, “aren’t you just darling? So sweet and yet deceptively strong… that hint of irony behind it.. yes. Yes, it’ll do nicely, darling…”

Her eyes darted away, feeling so hot, cheeks flushed and burning, his hand still holding her face. But that heat swirled in her gut, her mind still reeling over the events of that day, and while her skin was clean from bathing, her mind had turned to only images and questions that were so, very dirty. “So…” she paused, feeling his face drawing nearer, his breath washing over her. “What was it you were caught doing exactly?”

Astarion’s eyes flashed, wide and dilating as he stared at that impertinent grin. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean… I wish to know… what… you were doing while you watched me,” her voice grew quieter, deeper in her throat the more she spoke.

“I was… pleasuring myself,” he managed to say, watching her cheeks growing pinker and pinker.

“Show me,” she whispered. Her chin jutted out in that over-confident way of hers.

Astarion cocked his head, a single corner of his lip curving slightly. “What?” he drolled.

“Show me… what you were doing…” she whispered, eyeing the door shut beside them, pure mischief in her silver eyes. “Show me, please…”

“I do so like it when you ask so sweetly,” he raised his brow, grinning widely as he leaned towards her breathtaking face. “So refined and smoothed over your edges, and yet…” His fingers pressed on her chin, tilting her upwards and drawing her close to his lips, “I still see that willful, feral playmate of mine who never once treated me like the son of the High Lord…”

“Quit your stalling, Acunìn,” she snapped, smiling all the while. Her body was pulsing, hotter than the fire before them should have made her. Her skin grew tighter the more he touched her.

“I can show you,” he whispered, smirking as his eyes darted towards the door. “But I’ll not do it in your father’s domain. Not when I’ve just garnered his dissenting approval.”

Her breath grew heavy, her dress suddenly too tight. “Where… when…?”

“It’s your home, darling. Can’t you think of someplace quiet… someplace intimate…”

“The gardens,” she couldn’t reply quickly enough. “I can slip from my terrace, if you meet me.”

“Then I shall be there,” his voice was thick, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. It made her stomach knotted and fluttery. Made her skin burning and her blood pounding. Whatever it was she was about to learn, she could barely wait the few moments it would be to sneak away.

Then he kissed her, more than just the little pecks as children. More than the courtly press of his mouth on her gentle fingers. He spared her nothing, for she knew full well already the twist of his tongue around her own, the sucking of his lips and the clack of his teeth against hers. But this kiss, this devoured her. Sucked her breath and filled her tastebuds with him alone. Until she forgot to so much as breathe.

A loud footstep outside the door made them suddenly draw apart, the turn of the handle making Astarion shoot right up from the couch to stand coolly at the mantle, a chilled, contented smile on his lips as her father returned.

As if those lips weren’t just consuming his daughter.

“It’s late, Master Acunìn,” the General commented, always direct, always commanding.

“Yes, well, there will be many years ahead of us for goodnight and goodbyes, isn’t that right, my darling?” the young elf nodded his head to his future bride. Who, very wisely, kept her flushing face away from the sight of her father.

“Yes, Astarion,” she replied, all joy and music in those two words. “Goodnight to you both,” she stood to dip a curtsy. “I am ever so pleased with our arrangement,” she added, smiling as she made her way from the room.

“As am I,” Astarion replied, locking eyes with the General. “Goodnight, my future bride and father. I can see myself out.”

“So long as you don’t see yourself back in, boy,” her father laughed under his breath. A cold sort of laugh, wisened by experience past the machinations of youth. “You have years for that. The blink of an eye for our kind.”

Astarion nodded his head, eyes still fixed on his exit. Careful not to give away the racing of his heart in anticipation. Gratified that his instincts were sharper than the General, the aging elf whose eyes he could feel until the moment he shut the door to their home behind him.

It would be an easy deception, to head down the path towards the road and double back to the little garden. The moon was bright, and the stars even brighter. Hanging arbors of bright purple and rosy blooms covered the walls and trellises.

She had chosen well, a secluded spot, hidden and muffled. He watched her room, a little cutaway on the ground floor, as he had before. Her shadow moving in the light, the flicker of candles gutting out as he heard the door to her terrace open.

He peered out from behind the arbor, her eyes instantly setting on him, her mouth parting in a smile. Hoisting her skirt, she ran over the little tiled terrace, scrambling, almost vaulting over the balustrade to land in his arms.

“I can’t believe you did that, Astarion,” she panted, instantly pressing her lips against his. “You’re so much trouble…”

“Yes,” he breathed in between her moving lips, “but aren’t I just worth it?”

“Show me what you were doing and we will see,” she growled into his mouth, his hands already skating over the silks of her gown, pawing beneath the edges of her robe. His fingers traced down her arm, weaving into her hand. Pulling her, they reached the little bench, nestled among the hanging vines of sleeping flowers. All was quiet and shadow. The air was cool against their burning skin, the stone of the bench even colder as they slammed into it, tumbling down to sit side by side. Pressed so tightly together, her leg draped between his. His arms pulled tightly around her waist.

“First day giving me your word you’ll be mine,” he panted, “and already all you want to know is how to pleasure me?”

“Well,” she shoved him away, hand planted firmly on his chest. “I already know how to tease you, to best you, to anger you and calm you…” she tilted her head with a sultry, knowing smile. “I’m sure there is much I have yet to learn… and I am eager for you to teach me.”

“You’ve come a long way from flinging mud in my face and threatening to tattle on my father, darling,” his words tickled her cheek as he hovered over her ear. “If you wish to learn, this lesson will be completely… hands on.”

“Save your wit, Astarion,” she hissed, a smile on her face, her hands already straying over the soft fabric of his tunic. “Need I remind you, after today, you had the advantage of knowing the sight of me… all of me. I have yet to have the same pleasure.”

“All in good time, after all…” he pulled away to stare into her eager eyes, so bright as they caught the starlight, “we have years ahead of us now.”

His hand covered hers, sliding it lower, letting her fingers brush over his belly that clenched as he struggled for air. Astarion said nothing, just giving her that half a smile that made her blush. His eyes watched her face blanch as he moved her hand even lower, to press it against where he was hard yet again that day. Slowly, he moved her fingers up and down it, her mouth hanging open slightly to feel its length from where it met his pelvis to the tip that pressed somewhere down the leg of his breeches.

She swallowed hard. Her breath was harsher than ever. Than even after sprinting.

“Well,” he finally purred as he kept their hands working over him slowly. “I only saw the parts of you that glittered in the water above its surface, and I have never been more jealous of some dewy drops on your skin before.”

Cordehlia smirked, beginning to move her hand more freely, fingers tracing the rounded edges of whatever it was beneath. “Now poetry? I prefer you razor wit…”

“How about nothing more than the sounds we make all on our own?” he breathed, his hands pulling the laces from his breeches free. She felt it shift as the fabric released. That hard thing twitching as he reached inside. She couldn’t look away, the sight of him making her mouth water.

And her body even hotter than she had ever been in his presence, in his arms before.

She shut her jaw, clenching it as she watched his hand wrap around its width, watched as it jerked and twitched as he beat over it back and forth. “It’s not like you to hesitate or to balk when something is… hard.”

One hand shoved his shoulder, the other wrapped to join his grip around that… thing. She exhaled as she squeezed, the skin so smooth, the whole shaft so hot and pulsing with the beat of his heart. And so hard as he had joked. Rigid and silken, hard and smooth. Her touch straying towards its tip, she saw it dripping, little white, almost clear drops as she touched it. She swept it in her fingers, tacky and slick over that fleshy tip.

He groaned as she did so, and instantly she pulled away. “Sorry,” she hissed, her cheeks growing even redder in shame to hurt him.

“No,” he panted, grabbing her hand back to encircle that tip again. “The opposite, it felt amazing, the way you touch my cock…”

“Oh,” she smiled, reapplying the same sort of stroke over that little slit, feeling it seeping again as she touched him. “So…” she tilted her head, meeting those dilated, violet eyes, “…you like this?”

“Mmm, very much, even better than when I touch myself and think of you. The real thing is so much better,” he groaned again as she stroked harder, faster, like he had before. Head thrown back, he closed his eyes, savoring that no-longer-timid touch.

“What happens next?” she asked, somehow breathless herself.

“The best part,” he replied through clenching teeth. “Whatever you do, don’t dare stop…” he was growling, his hips raising as she kept that beat. He rocked on the stone bench, hands gripping into the edge. She watched as he contorted, seeming to be in agony, that cock in her hand growing harder and hotter, but she didn’t dare stop. Like he asked.

She felt it shudder in her fingers, his body clenching as he groaned. Collapsing forward, he kept shaking as noise after pained and panting noise came from his mouth. More of that sticky white drips shot from him, and Cordehlia held her breath, so certain she had hurt him.

A fear that was dispelled the moment she looked at his face now. His slack-mouthed smile, his eyes wide and glowing in the moonlight, he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her against him. Lashing his mouth to hers, he muttered such sweet things into her lips. “That was…” he paused to breathe, “amazing. You were perfect. Better than I had dreamed…”

“It looked painful,” she replied, breaking away with a push on his chest again. Turning her head, she looked where the stones of the terrace were discolored and wet, where his cock still dripped a little more of that gleaming whiteness. “And you call that pleasuring yourself?”

“I assure you, he grinned, brows raising, lips quirking, “it is quite the opposite of painful.”

“Hmm,” she hemmed, skeptical as she turned to look back into that face.

“You look like you need some.. convincing…”

His hands wrapped around her waist, slowly starting to gather up the thin silks that covered her perfect, pale skin.

“I think I can show you, if you let me,” he crooned, mouth smiling wider.

“You’re going to teach me how to… pleasure myself?” Oh, she was so haughty, so confident and daring. Even when she was wrong, it was stimulating.

“Really?” She kept that hand firmly on his chest, even as her body gave her away, her hips sliding slightly closer as his hands pulled her skirts to her knees. “I take it this knowledge was not garnered from first… hand… experience…” she tested him.

“No, no,” he shook his head, smiling with reassurance, “I read it in a book, a most fascinating book…”

“So fascinating that it made you pursue release in… pleasuring yourself after?”

“Seems like you know more than an elegant, righteous she-elf should…” he touched her skin then, sliding two fingers higher from her knee. “You weren’t watching me, were you?” he taunted, fingers tracing back down only to dare higher beneath her skirts.

“No, that seemed to be your duty, my darling,” she laughed as she spoke, low and slick. Her breath came heavier. Her skin flamed hotter the higher he touched.

Then, she looked right into his eyes, all that taunting evaporated, her smile softened, her eyes wide and pleading as she could do nothing more than breathe and lean back even more.

And he kept touching, awed by that look of trust and… love. And then, he slunk those fingers beneath the thin line of her undergarments.

She was… wet. Hot. Those folds he had read about, observed in drawings… it was so much better now. But he needed more.

His other hand gripped her knee, pulling those strong legs of hers apart. A gasp tore from her throat as she let him. Her fingers clutched at the back of his head, locked into his hair as if she was about to collapse.

And then, his touch slid inside. Her eyes shot wide, her face contorting like his had, now she knew why.

He slid those fingertips back and forth, dragging that hot slick more and more through that seam. At last, he circled through that point at the apex, drawing his touch over that hard little spot. Just as he had read. But the way it made her clench and groan was even… more magnificent.

Her cheeks were so pink, her forehead beading with sweat. “What… is that…” she managed to speak, breathless and deep in her throat.

“Give me you hand, sweet Cordehlia, and you can tend to your own needs when I can’t be with you in the shadows.”

She obeyed, keeping that one grip tight around his neck. But the other slipped in to join his so quickly. Pushing harder, sweeping faster, his fingers tried to keep up with the way she was… touching herself.

“Gods,” he groaned, “how does it feel?”

“I… can’t…” she panted, eyes shutting hard as she groaned.

So he slid his fingers in deeper in… in her quivering walls.

“Ah!” she mewled, forgetting they were still in danger, forgetting anyone could hear them.

But Astarion didn’t care, not when she clenched hard and tight around his fingers, not when his cock was pulsing again, aching for another round of his own release.

She shook so hard, she almost pulled him down, her arm releasing instead to hold herself up. Her eyes looked at his body again, settling on where his cock still stood hard and twitching in his lap. “I want to watch you… watch you touch yourself while I…”

“Yes,” he growled, hand slipping from her skirts, rubbing that slick that coated his whole hand over himself. “Gods, Cordehlia,” he couldn’t keep his eyes open, not needing much more than a few more pumps on his cock to set him nearly off again. One last glance of her face wracked with ecstacy, the sound of her orgasm as she beat her own fingers into that hot slick he could smell… it was enough.

It was more than enough.

He watched as she bit her lips and screamed through them, hearing that wet squelch of her fingers beneath her skirt grow somehow wetter sounding.

She was divine. Worthy. Beyond compare. Worth all the wagging tongues of the nobles and disapproving scowls of his parents to make her his.

His.

And with that, he groaned and came again. Harder and more intensely than ever before. Spurting streams of his cum covered the tiles and dripped from his hand.

He looked at her then, her eyes glazed with lust, with sated desire and yet burning up for more.

He was hers as much as she was his…

And he would never be the same.

————

She released his mind. His mouth hung open, his breath ragged.

His heart warmed over, despite being dead, all fluttering and hot. Maybe a fragment of his soul returned to him, he wasn’t sure. The way her silver eyes beat open, that ember of desire in them from the memory of so long ago… it made him realize just how achingly hard he had become.

More than her blood in his stomach, more than the sight of her bathing… it was an ache in his groin and his chest that only one thing could satisfy.

And he could smell the same need between her legs, could hear it in the way her heart raced and rapped in her chest.

Swift and sure, her hands clutched into his shirt, grabbing him hard and pulling him. To make him climb on her body, to cover herself in the only remedy to quell her burning. She pushed his clothes off his skin, his voice reduced to a growl in his throat. Those eager, dexterous fingers ripped his own clothes off, relieved only once he was freed. Once they both were freed, nothing but their skin and desire to share.

“I was your first,” he rasped, crushing her with his body, consuming her with his mouth. “The first to know you, to touch you…”

“To taste me and pleasure me and have me…” she purred, “and I you.”

“And none shall have you like I have… like I do…” Astarion groaned, slipping his fingers into her, just as he had perhaps a million times before. Her arousal was so hot and plentiful, all resistance was gone.

As if her body was made for him. The same way a key can slip so perfectly into its lock.

After those memories, he wouldn’t be surprised if it were so. “You enjoyed learning from me,” he grunted into her mouth, the visions of their memories still flaring in his head. “Didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she sighed back. Her hips bucking hard, riding each crooking touch he made deep inside her.

“Your little shakes of excitement, your wide, innocent eyes and pink little lips wet for me…”

“Yes,” she sighed again, arching and clinging hard around his neck.

“Your lips, your breasts, your honey-dripping cunt… Gods, I want to fuck them all, make every inch of you mine, make them swollen and marked by my bite…” he looked down at her then, teeth glinting as he gave a wide-mouthed grin. “Not the Druid, not the Wizard, not a single one that looks at you would doubt you are mine…”

“Astarion, I’ve been yours,” Cordehlia said, hands gripping hard as she shuddered, feeling her own juices beginning to gush around his fingers, his thumb commanding her with all the dexterity he plied, all the knowledge of her body he now recalled from centuries.

He crooked his fingers even harder through her orgasm, working and fighting against every time she bore down in ecstacy. Panting, she softened around him, beneath him. Yielding to every part of him, body and soul. “Your turn,” she rasped, face nestled against his shoulder. Her hand gripped around his cock, slick already from the drips that already leaked from its tip.

Hips bucking into her fist, his lips peeled back to bare his teeth. “May I?”

“Bite me a dozen times so everyone sees your markings? Yes,” she snickered, rubbing over his shaft just a little faster until he groaned. From her touch or her words, she wasn’t sure. But she loved it either way.

The base of her neck, the throbbing of her jugular, the crest of her collarbone… one after another he nipped and drank. Each bite making her fist clench so tightly around his cock, he had no choice but to let his body rut into her grip. His tongue lapped all over her own ivory skin, her crimson blood thick in his throat as she pleasured him.

That age-old touch that commanded him, pleasuring him as only she could. Thousands of forced lovers over hundreds of years, and for once, he reclaimed that feeling of intimacy, that near-first-time thrill he thought long dead. Making love to one he wanted. One he…

“I love you,” he whispered between her blood-dripping breasts.

“I have always loved you,” the reply couldn’t leave her lips fast enough. Her fingers gripping into the locks behind his pointed ears, pulling his dripping copper-tanged mouth to hers. Furious. Crazed. Matching that possessiveness stroke for stroke with her tongue, nip for nip with her teeth on his lips. Her hand dragged through the pooling blood on her body, running that warm, thick liquid over his cock.

Making him shudder as she ran her touch up and down it again. He groaned with that hot slick gliding over his length. The scent of her blood was too delicious to resist. “As fun as it was to cum all over you when we were young, I’d much rather be invited inside, my love.” He tried to sweeten his voice, but that play on his cock already had him undone.

She only chuckled, guiding him inside her so quickly, he barely could tell what was her fist and what was her folds until her thighs clenched tight around his waist, her hips bucking hard against his own. Riding him with every little bit of passion she had stored inside for him alone.

Possessing her for centuries. Making certain he never forgot now that he was hers to possess as well.

[calypso707]

hey i adore your writing!

i was wondering how astarion would take care of his s/o who suffers from migraines and severe photosensitivity. my friends always call me a vampire because of it so i thought it’d be a funny dynamic 😆

this one is actually funny because i suffer from migraines as well, so here we are! I don't know if I'm proud of what I've written, but it was fun to do! enjoy! ❤

OS - Astarion x gn drow reader : Simple things.

Living on the surface had proved more complicated than the Underdark. Being born, growing up and spending a significant part of your life in the darkness had certainly had its advantages, but now that you were living on the surface, you realised just how different things were. Whether it was people's lifestyles or all those bright colours. So yes, there were bright colours in the Underdark, but they were often signs of danger, such as explosive mushrooms or plants releasing deadly spores.

You may have been used to the dark and could see in the night better than your companions, but constant exposure to the sun had its drawbacks. So, sure, it was nice to feel the light warming your skin, you could now appreciate things like the colour of the sky, listen to birdsong or even hear the sound of the wind, but your eyes still couldn't handle so much brightness. And on top of that, you had a tadpole in your skull that was not only making its own little nest but was also giving you migraines on a regular basis.

But you still tried to stay positive, because thanks to all the adventures you'd been through, however farfetched, you'd met your current companions, who had turned out to be loyal allies and faithful friends.

And above all, you had met Astarion.

A magnificient two-century-old vampire.

It was almost poetic, two beings of darkness who found themselves having to survive under the sun. So what was it between you two? It was a tricky question, but you cared about him as much as he cared about you, and knowing that was more than enough. Though, Astarion was handling the conditions and opportunities this adventure offered him better than you were. He had always loved sunbathing as soon as the first lights appeared. You enjoyed them too, but in small doses.

While you were enjoying a moment's respite from this chaotic and probably deadly mission, you had given yourselves a break and were strolling through the alleys of Baldur's Gate. Astarion was describing the things his former master, Cazador Szarr, had made him do, a certain bitterness in his voice. You tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but the sun was at its zenith, there were no clouds in the sky to dim its brightness and you felt as if your eyes were burning and your skull was splitting in two.

"Are you even listening when I am talking to you?", grumbled Astarion.

"Sorry… Can we take a short break?" you asked, using your hand to shade your eyes as you looked at him.

"My dear, are you sure that you are not a vampire?" said Astarion with a smirk.

"Hilarious" you sighed.

You took a few steps into the shadow under a stall on the main street leading to the Wyrm's Rock fortress. Astarion was looking at you with a slightly concerned expression; he seemed to be thinking.

"Hm.. I think I have an idea. Stay put." It was almost an order.

Before you could reply, he was heading off into "Carm's Garm" shop. You wondered what had gone through his mind. You decided to wait for him and you leaned against the stone wall behind you, watching the passers-by go about their business, carefree. You listened the trout seller shouting about how fresh his fish were and the wholesaler who was delighted with his harvest.

Long minutes passed, during which you examined everyone who passed in the street. You didn't hear Astarion come back, and you were startled when he cleared his throat once he was beside you. You looked at him and noticed that he was holding several hats under his arms. You tried to hide your smile but it was complicated.

"Let's see…" He put the pile of accessories at his feet and picked up a first hat and placed it on your head. It was a sort of pointy wizard's hat with hideous embroidery that went all the way around, and before you could even give your opinion, Astarion took it off, shaking his head and frowning. "Awful"

He then picked up a sort of adjustable steel helmet, and didn't even take the time to let you try it on before he tossed it aside, doing the same with a brightly coloured top hat. Finally, he took a simple brown hat with silver wings embroidered on the stiff leather and placed it on your head as gently as possible. The brim of the hat was wide enough to keep your face in the shade.

He stood back and examined you for a few seconds, his index finger resting on his chin: "Hm.. I think this one will do, darling. Of course, I still am the fashion icon of our group, but I can assure you you are not far from it now."

You readjusted your hat slightly and took a long look at him, biting your lower lip to hold back your smile. You were pleasantly surprised by his gesture and his words made you chuckle. Astarion moved closer to you and put his hands on your shoulders, pressing them lightly as you put yours against his chest.

"I am impressed, so you are able to do sweet things." you said.

"Sweet? What an idea" He grinned before tilting his head to the side, a thin smile on his lips. "It just should not be so unbearable to enjoy the simple things of life."

And he was right.

═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═ ═

thanks for reading this OS, i hope you liked it!

don't hesitate to read my other writings on Astarion! ❤

Astarion x gn druid tav : On your skin.

Astarion x gn tav : No place for love.

Astarion x gn tav : A thousand thanks.

Fiction - Astation x fem!tav bard : Fruit of The Poisonned Tree

[novarex]

Allright, I'm doing DROW SMASH OR PASS, Legend of Drizzt and Waf of the Spider Queen characters. I've seen this back in the tags and I want to play.

Drizzt Do'Urden - PASS - idk, he's not really my type, and he's just a little bit boring. It would also feel wrong somehow, and I don't know how to explain it. I mean... I wouldn't say no if he asked, but Cattie-Brie would have to be dead and I'd probably ask if he's sure like 10x.

Jarlaxle Baenre - SITUATIONAL - Don't get me wrong, he's lovely, but his personality is too close to mine, and there isn't enough air in one room for the both of us. But get me drunk, and I'd do it for sure.

Gromph Baenre - SMASH - Slamming the smash button until it breaks. If you know me at all you know I'm in love with this pathetic wizard man. He is both brilliant and stupid, and just the right amount of sarcastic, arrogant, sad, and pathetic. I would marry him. He wouldn't get a moment of peace because I'd be trying to entice him into bed 24/7. It's like he was written specifically for me to fall in love with. When he went missing in WOTSQ, I would have turned the city to rubble and made the rivers run red with blood looking for him. I know Cattie-Brie was pissy about the suggestive fantasies he put in her head with psionics, but I would literally learn psionics just to play a game of horny thoughts tag all day.

Zaknafein Do'Urden - SITUATIONAL - a bit too self righteous for my taste, and I think I'd probably get on his nerves. But I'd never turn down that legendary dick if I had a few shots in me. He's got some anger issues I'd prefer to steer clear of.

Kimmuriel Oblodra - PASS - I just don't think he'd be into it. I would also be incredibly uncomfortable with him having that much access to my thoughts. Unless, of course, he's into the wild fantasies that my brain cooks up...and in that case... we might turn this into a smash.

Rai'gy Bondalek - PASS - Strong possibility that he'd just make me self conscious. He's certainly intriguing, but he'd hate me for sure.

Dinin Do'Urden - SMASH - Dinin, my love. I would scoop him up and take him to a cottage in the woods and make sure his belly is full and his balls are empty and have all of his babies. I would brutally torture and maim anyone who ever dared to hurt him. I would burn cities to ash and end bloodlines for him. Dinin deserves so much better. I'm desperate for more Dinin, especially after the events of Lolth’s Warrior.

Rizzen Do'Urden - SMASH - I'd keep him as a pet. What malice did to him is unforgivable.

Nalfein Do'Urden - SMASH - I don't even know why other than he's pathetic in thre way that I like.

Beniago Baenre - SMASH - He's adorable. I would insist on him in his natural drow form, however. I bet he's a good lover too. In One Eyed Jax, Jarlaxle teases him a bit because he's definitely into human women. He smart, personable, and he definitely knows how to please a woman.

Braelin Janquay - SMASH - He deserves everything. I find him irresistibly adorable. He's spent more of his life outside of Menzoberranzan than in and has a pretty strong disdain for Lolthian culture. He is smart and clever and Jarlaxle adores him. Braelin has also suffered a lot and remains so loyal to Jarlaxle. Everything about him is attractive to me. He has quickly rocketed to my 3rd favorite, with Gromph as my #1 and Dinin as a very close #2.

Valas Hune - SMASH - I feel like we might genuinely get along. He'd be good to go camping with somewhere far from everyone else. I really thrive with one on one interactions, especially someone who needs personal space too.

Ravel Xorlarrin - SMASH- I have amended this to smash. He has grown on me considerably. He's clever and not easily intimidated. I respect that.

Brack'thal Xorlarrin - SMASH - Ok, I know he's only in one book (Charon's Claw) but he checks all of the "he's pathetic and tragic in all the right ways" boxes. His whole story makes me want to swoop him up and carry him off. Charon's Claw starts off so strong with him being kicked around that I just immediately wanted to protect him. His whole story just has me in a grip. It's really a shame we only got one book of him.

Tiago Baenre - HARD PASS - Fuck no. No way. I mean maybe if it gave me the opportunity to cut his throat, then I would make that sacrifice. He's the only irredeemable fuck face I can't find anything to like about. I'd kick him in the nuts.

Dantrag Baenre - SMASH - He definitely knows how to fuck. He's big too, which would be extra fun. I also have a weakness for Baenre boys.

Berg'inyon Baenre - SMASH - He seems like he'd know what he's doing, and if he didn't, he'd learn real quick.

Pharaun Mizzrym - SMASH - Let me be clear... I would not trust him at all. But come on, you know that sex has to be amazing. He knows what he's doing, is so good that he's an arrogant shit about it, and you'll definitely have a lot of orgasms. You know your legs won't work for a week after. There's a reason he's such a pain in Gromp's ass and it's because he's a wildly competent shitass.

Ryld Argith - MAYBE - He's just so practical it hurts. He also just doesn't seem to care that much about anyone other than Pharaun.

Nimor Imphrazel - SMASH - Half drow half dragon rabble rouser? Absolutely sign me the fuck up.

Allright. I'm not sure if I've missed anyone.

Tagging @vspin, @grandma-kei, @drizztdohurtin, and anyone else who wants to play. Feel free just to do the ones you know or add to it. I know I just did dudes.

[grandmother-goblin]

Apotheosis - Chapter 4

Ao3 - Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Halsin gives Zilvira an explanation for the unfortunate comment that she overheard as they try to get past the Flaming Fist.

Relationships: Halsin x Female!Tav

Rating: Explicit (18+) for eventual smut.

Word Count: 3.7k

Chapter Tags: Mentions of past trauma, implication that Halsin has PTSD, mentions of sexual assault.

Notes: A big, huge, thank you to @tragedybunny for beta-reading!

Shame burned across Halsin’s face, blazing over his cheek bones to the tips of his ears, intense enough to nearly mask the icy stillness in his chest.

When those words had come out of his mouth, he had thanked Silvanus that Zilvira hadn’t been around to hear them.

He hadn’t meant them.

It hadn’t even taken a second for regret to seep in, sliding into a simmering stew of confusion, melancholy, and quiet, long-forgotten, rage. He should have taken the words back right then and there, but he didn’t. Not even after Shadowheart gave him a look so scathing it would have made Shar smile.

“Why?” Zilvira’s choked question might as well have been a dagger piercing his heart.

Actually, Halsin might have preferred a dagger; at least he knew how to deal with those. But this? He wasn’t sure where to begin.

While Halsin had already reflected on what he had said in his nightly meditations, he never thought he would need to articulate it. He never thought he would be confronted with his mistake, nor have to apologize for it. At worst, he thought he might have to have an awkward conversation with Shadowheart.

Gods, Zilvira didn’t deserve to hear his moment of weakness. Some part of him was angry at her for eavesdropping on what he thought was a private conversation. Angry at the entire situation. And maybe that anger was justified.

But what he had said wasn’t.

“What did I do?” she asked, her voice so small and unlike anything he had heard from her before.

“You didn’t do anything,” he assured. “I never should have said that.”

Slowly, as to give her plenty of time to refuse his touch, Halsin gathered her delicate hands in his, needing that physical connection to ground him.

Damp, wine-red eyes reflected the moonlight as they met his. “Then why did you?”

That was the question he didn’t want to answer. But she deserved the truth — even if it was something that he was ashamed of. Something that he would have rather discussed when they were both in a sound state of mind.

But if he didn’t answer her now, he had a sinking feeling that she wouldn’t hear his answer later.

That he would lose her.

Clasping her hands tight, Halsin sat back on his heels and gazed up at her like a worshiper before the idol of a goddess. He swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly feeling dry as nervousness twisted in his gut.

“A long time ago,” he began, trying to keep his voice steady as not to betray his nerves. ”I found myself… a guest, one could call it, of a noble drow house during one of my expeditions to the Underdark. While I began my stay as a willing guest, it quickly became clear that I was anything but. The matron wanted me as a consort, a prisoner, and chained me to her bedchamber for three years.”

Before he could continue, Zilvira wriggled one hand from his grip. “Halsin, I’m so sorry,” she said as she clasped his hand in hers. “I had no idea.”

Halsin shook his head. “It was a long time ago, and it just isn’t something that normally crosses my mind,” he replied. ”But when we first got to Sharess’ Caress, Sorn and Nym somehow recognized me from back then. Though they didn’t say anything to my face, Sorn mentioned one of my captors by name.”

He remembered how Sorn’s eyes darted over him, as if noting his height and the tattoos on his face. How he had leaned toward his sister and whispered, “Doesn’t he remind you of Aunshalee’s old plaything?”

Aunshalee.

The name was like stone thrown into once calm waters, disturbing it for the first time in centuries. The last he heard that name, it was bellowed from the throat of a drow warrior, predatory and taunting as the woman called for Aunshalee’s head. Halsin didn’t stick around to find out if the warrior ever claimed her prize.

Hearing the name again, knowing that there were people who knew of his association with her even after so much time had passed, triggered something in his psyche. Something that made it feel like no time had passed at all. Like he was still a prisoner at the mercy of Aunshalee’s whims.

Part of him wanted to tell Zilvira everything about his time in the Underdark, about his relationship with Aunshalee, but she had already been through so much tonight. He didn’t want to turn the conversation to his past when Zilvira was hurting in the present.

“Aunshalee was a scholar who specialized in medicinal plants native to the Underdark, and she found me while I was doing research of my own,” Halsin continued. “When she learned that my research aligned with hers, she offered her aid. To teach me what she knew in exchange for a ‘surface-dweller’s’ insight on her work. Of course, the fool that I was, I accepted.

“I will spare you all of the details, but after weeks of working together, I got sick. Despite being a somewhat accomplished healer at the time, I couldn’t do anything to cure myself. When things got dire, Aunshalee brought me to her home and nursed me back to health. By the time I realized she had been the cause of my illness in the first place, she and the other drow wouldn’t let me leave. I was her prisoner from then until the day I escaped.

“Hearing her name again, and knowing that the twins recognized me from that chapter of my life, reopened some old wounds that I had long thought healed.” Halsin gave a shaky breath and shook his head, feeling a sense of nausea that he knew was all in his head.

Zilvira squeezed his hands. ”I’m sorry,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“You are the one who deserves an apology, not me,” he replied and held her hands just as tight as she held his. “I thought I hid how it had affected me, but Shadowheart seemed to notice my change in mood. As we spoke, more memories resurfaced. Resentment. Fear that my captors were lurking just around the corner. My mind went down a dark path and my past mixed with my present. For a moment, I had my guard up again.”

“And you were afraid I was like the drow who hurt you? Like Aunshalee?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, the thought crossed my mind,” he confessed. “But I don’t truly believe that. Unfortunately, that acknowledgement came after I made an ass of myself. I am sorry.”

What he had said was wrong, and he couldn’t unsay it no matter how he regretted it. He could only hope that she would give him a chance to prove to her that he didn’t mean it.

And he could only hope that she would truly believe him.

Zilvira swallowed and her eyes drifted from his. “Do you think all drow are like the ones who kidnapped you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t,” he said. “But I will admit that, my time in the Underdark aside, my only other experiences with drow have been… less than ideal. You’re the first one I’ve met that hasn’t tried to harm me in some way. Unless you count the time you elbowed me in the stomach because you thought I was an undead.”

A small upward twitch at the corner of her lips might as well have been a full blown smile. In her defense, she replied, “You snuck up on me.”

Halsin chuckled. “Not on purpose.”

Strangely enough, despite how she had knocked the wind out of him, that moment was one of his fondest memories with her. He remembered the utter mortification on her face and the way her hands clasped over her mouth as she muttered dozens of apologies while he laid supine in the dirt. Her seemingly endless apologies only ceased the moment Halsin had started laughing. Once she was absolutely certain he had nothing more than a bruised diaphragm, she had joined him.

It wasn’t the way any of the drow women he had ever known would have responded to the situation, and that moment had given him some reassurance about her that he didn’t know he needed.

Zilvira lifted her hand from his to swipe away another tear from her cheek. “Gods,” Zilvira said, her tone lighter than before. “Here I was, thinking you secretly hated me or I did something wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

As if absorbing his words, she nodded slowly. Her eyes flickered back to where the spider had been building its web — a perfect masterpiece of nature sequestered in a dismal city alleyway — but the spider was nowhere to be seen.

“Are we okay?” Halsin asked after a few moments of listening to the waves below and the distant chatter of people. Though he felt the conversation went as well as it could have, uncertainty lingered in the forefront of his mind.

Part of him feared that his explanation and apology wasn’t enough. That he had ruined things between them all because of some careless words and she would never forgive him. Maybe he didn’t deserve her forgiveness. Or her friendship. If he lost her over this… well, he had a feeling a few bottles of wine would go missing from their camp supplies.

Zilvira sniffled. “We’re okay,” she said. “I’m still a little mad at you, but I’ll get over it.”

A rush of relief washed through him like a broken dam, relaxing the muscles he didn’t realize he was tensing and easing the tension coiled in his chest. “If it would help, you’re welcome to elbow me in the stomach again. I’ll give you one free shot.”

She playfully pushed his shoulder. “Given my coordination right now, I’d probably miss,” she said with a tired laugh. “I’d rather just go to bed.”

Halsin couldn’t help the grateful smile that tugged at his lips. “Come on, then,” he said, and carefully helped her to her feet. “Let’s get you back to camp.”

—

After days of dealing with feelings of hurt, betrayal, and heartache, after failing to hold back her tears, part of Zilvira’s mind didn’t want to forgive him. He hurt her, so he couldn’t be forgiven until he felt the same hurt too, right? Yet, the reasonable part of her mind chided her, telling her that she was being petty and immature.

That she still loved him. And because she loved him, and he went out of his way to explain himself, even if it didn’t paint him in the most flattering light, she forgave him.

She was still a little miffed about the entire situation, but she forgave him.

If that made her weak, then so be it. She could at least look him in the eye again and know that he didn’t secretly hate her.

Zilvira adjusted her hold on Halsin’s arm as they slowly made their way toward the entrance to Wyrm’s crossing. With the Shar’s Oblivion lingering in her system, she still couldn’t completely trust her feet. If it wasn’t for Halsin keeping her steady, she would have stumbled over the cobblestone or drifted into a civilian passing by a half a dozen times by now.

The Emperor had been right before: Halsin has always had her best interest at heart. Even when she was trying her damndest to avoid him, it didn’t stop him from caring when she needed help.

Prior to overhearing Halsin’s unfortunate comment, she had never once doubted the sincerity of his friendship. That he cared for her the way she cared for him. While his explanation for his comment wasn’t what she expected, she believed him when he said he didn’t mean it.

From what little he told her, and judging by his reaction, she had a feeling that his experience with the drow was far worse than she imagined. Then for him to notice two strangers casually recognizing him from a horrendous chapter of his life, one he thought he had left behind, out of nowhere? If she had been in his shoes, she might’ve responded poorly as well.

She would never be able to fully comprehend what he had been feeling at the time — any bad experience she had couldn’t begin to compare to what he went through — but she could accept it. Sometimes, that had to be enough. Even if she couldn’t completely understand or relate.

Later, perhaps sometimes tomorrow, they could discuss it more if he was willing. But for now, all she needed to know was that he said those words in a moment of foggy antipathy, that he didn’t mean them, and he was sorry.

That was enough.

“We may have a problem up ahead,” Halsin said, stopping the two of them in the shadow of a closed market stall. One that sold fish, from the smell of it, and Zilvira wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Halsin cocked his chin toward four Flaming Fist soldiers and a Steel Watcher guarding the gate that would lead them into Rivington. “If Jack kept his word,” he whispered, “they’re going to be looking for us. It’ll probably be safest if we go around.”

Go around?

Oh no. Nope. She did not like that idea one bit.

There was an outdoor storage area, just under the gate’s guardhouse, that was only a few feet away from the steep hillside that anchored Wyrm’s Crossing to Rivington. On a normal day, the jump was easy enough for her and her companions to clear, but the consequences for missing that jump were falling dozens of meters into the bay. Or, with her luck, breaking every bone in her body on the rocks on the beach. In her current condition, she couldn’t trust her feet to play hopscotch.

“You want me to make that jump?” she asked Halsin, slowly and incredulously.

He made a humming sound as his lips flattened into a thin line, as though he were trying to think of alternatives. “If we don’t want to be here all night, I don’t think we have much of a choice,” he said with a sigh. “I should be able to get you across without issue with some vines.”

Though the idea didn’t exactly instill the confidence Zilvira would have liked, she was far too tired to argue with him. She just wanted to get back to camp, and be surrounded by people who made her feel safe. If Halsin said he was able to get her across the gap, then she would have to trust him.

She let him guide her toward the far side of the guard tower, then carefully down the stairs that wrapped around the wooden exterior to the storage room beneath. Dim yellow light from the room above them seeped through the floorboards, telling her that there was likely someone in the room above. Probably more Flaming Fist. As long as she and Halsin didn’t draw any attention to themselves, she wouldn’t need to find out.

They slipped between stacks of crates and, fortunately for them, no one had bothered to fix the broken railing that opened up the storeroom to the hillside.

“I’ll jump across,” Halsin said in a hushed tone, turning to her in the darkness, “and then—”

A door slammed and Zilvira’s heart leapt into her throat.

“There you are, asshole,” boomed a male voice above them as the sound of footsteps and shadows grew closer. “You could’ve told us you weren’t going to show. We ended up having to pay tonight.”

“I got thrown out,” a nonplussed voice answered, but one she immediately recognized.

Her stomach sank as she looked to Halsin, hoping that perhaps the long night was making her hear things. But when he stared back at her, with his brows drawn and his jaw tense, there was no mistaking that he recognized the voice too.

Jack.

“Yeah, Byan and I heard you picked a fight with someone twice your size,” the first voice said. “Fucking idiot.”

“Rhenn, I’ve fought Goliaths,” Jack replied as if Rhenn was the one who was a massive idiot.

Zilvira knew the answer: they were both morons.

The faint smell of cigar smoke wafted through the floorboards as Jack continued, “I know how to deal with the big guys,” he said as if holding something in his mouth. “The guy seemed like a pussy. Didn’t expect him to turn into a fucking bear.”

“Oh, so you can handle a Goliath but not a bear?” another voice, presumably Byan, quipped. He sounded much younger than the other two — definitely not a child but certainly no older than his early twenties.

“Caught me off guard,” Jack said defensively. Ash from his cigar drifted through the floorboards and directly onto Halsin’s leathers, and Zilvira brushed it away. “Not used to dealing with druids, especially not ones who can change shape faster than I can throw a punch. Fortunately, he’s easy to keep an eye out for. Now, pull up a seat, play cards with me. We can try again tomorrow.”

Wood scraped against wood, and shadows crossed over her and Halsin as the men dragged chairs to the spot directly above them. Halsin wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled them into a crouch, putting a bit of distance between them. Though there was little chance that Jack and his friends could spot them through the floor, getting low and ducking into the shadows made her feel a little bit safer.

But not by much.

“I should make you pay me back for the whore I had to buy so we didn’t blow our cover,” the one called Rhenn said, talking as if he were just business over a cup of coffee. “I was looking forward to fucking the drow chick. Did you see her lips? They would’ve looked so good around my cock.”

There was a snort of laughter.

“What? It’s true.”

Jack circled back to the original point. “If you didn’t want to blow your cover, why didn’t you two—”

“No way,” Rhenn said with a chuckle. “I’ll share a girl with a guy or two, but that’s as far as I‘ll go. I wouldn’t touch Byan even if you paid me to.”

Byan gave a sigh that said he was used to this sort of talk. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Beneath her hand, Halsin’s muscles tensed. Zilvira caught a glimpse of golden light cutting across his eyes as he clenched his jaw. Then, he breathed deeply in through his nose and out through his mouth. In and out. Holding himself back.

If Halsin wildshaped now, she doubted the men just above them wouldn’t notice the transformation. Even if they couldn’t see it, Halsin’s bear form wasn’t known for its subtlety.

“Halsin,” she whispered close to his ear, having no idea where she was going with that sentence. What could she say? Please don’t get mad on her behalf? Calm down? Because telling someone to calm down when they were agitated always went over well.

Hells, she had no business trying to calm Halsin with the way a high-pitched ringing sound built in her ears and her stomach contorted itself. Her cheeks chilled from the blood draining from her face, the implications of what could’ve happened to her that night rushing into her head all at once.

She felt like she was going to be sick.

But being sick would have to wait, because she had an angry druid threatening to turn into a bear next to her.

Zilvira placed her hand over Halsin’s chest, his warmth seeping into her palm, and leaned her cheek against his bicep. “Halsin, please,” she said, hoping that her presence and her touch might rein in the beast.

Fortunately for both of them, it seemed to work. The aureate glow emanating from his eyes dimmed as he shook his head, as if the small motion could alleviate his remaining tension. When he looked at her, her pulse quickened at the intensity of his gaze — one that was protective and underlying with barely restrained rage.

Possessive.

Then he closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers. “We should go before I kill them,” he mumbled, barely loud enough for her to hear him, and she wasn’t sure how literally he meant those words.

At that moment, she hoped he meant them very literally. In the morning she knew she would regret thinking that way, but after everything she had just been through… she could have some vengeful ideations.

With his arm still firmly wrapped around her, Halsin turned his attention to the hillside across from the storeroom. Slowly, with just a simple gesture of his hand, thick vines sprouted from the earth and grew toward Halsin as if they were chasing sunlight. As more and more grew, building a makeshift bridge, Halsin directed them to weave around the floorboards at their feet.

“Shame that powder ended up wasted,” came Rhenn’s voice again as Halsin tested the sturdiness of the vines. “How much do you have left?”

“At least a dozen doses,” Jack replied as Halsin gathered Zilvira into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “Now let’s play. I don’t want to think about this shit any more tonight.”

That was a sentiment she could agree with. She just wanted the night to be over. To cuddle into her blankets and meditate on happier times.

She looped her arms around Halsin’s neck as he cautiously, but confidently, crossed the vines and the voices of those awful men faded behind them. Once they were safely across, he withered the vines with another gesture of his hand, letting the dried and dead plant matter collapse into the water below.

“Do you think you’ll be able to walk back with me, or do you want me to carry you the rest of the way?” Halsin asked as they reached some flatter ground.

“I can make it as long as you’re still willing to help me,” she replied.

Gently, he set her down on her feet, keeping his hands on her waist until he was certain she had found some semblance of balance. “Of course,” he said. “Whatever you need.”

Zilvira felt her face warm at the way he said those words, his striking hazel eyes locking onto her own. That warmth faded as she caught a bit of movement over his shoulder from the window of the guard tower and she swallowed.

Jack had spotted them. For a moment, she watched him watching her, fighting the urge to run.

And by the time Halsin turned around, Jack had disappeared.

---

Beginning

Previous Chapter

[chelseaknoo]

𝓐 𝓻𝓸𝔂𝓪𝓵 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓮

Stan x reader x kyle

Pt 1

Plot:the elf king Kyle just proposed to you and you excitedly accepted now you’re going to have a wedding but there’s one thing.. his friend the knight Stan marshwalker has a crush on you and wants you to be his wife. WHO WILL YOU CHOOSE?

Waring: sexual content and foul language

Kissing my gloved hand, the elf king of the drow elves gazed into my eyes and whispered, "y/n, will you marry me?" The setting was nothing short of ethereal, with twinkling stars and a full moon casting a warm glow over the lush forest surrounding us. I felt a swell of emotion rise up within me as I looked into his emerald green eyes, their depths mirroring the love I felt for him. It had been six months since we'd started dating, and in that time, Kyle had swept me off my feet with his charm, his wit, and his unwavering devotion to not only me but his kingdom as well.

As I searched for the right words to reply, he leaned in closer, his breath tickling my ear. "I've loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you, y/n," he whispered, his voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down my spine. "And I want to spend the rest of my life with you, making you happy and showing you a love that knows no bounds."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I took in the sincerity in his words. I knew, without a doubt, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life by his side. "Yes, Kyle," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rustling of the leaves around us. "Yes, I will marry you." And with that, he pulled me into an embrace so fierce it made my heart skip a beat, his lips finding mine in a passionate kiss that sealed our fate together.

As we pulled apart, the excitement of the moment building inside us both, Kyle grinned widely, revealing his sharp teeth. "Now, my love," he exclaimed, his voice practically reverberating with excitement, "let us have a feast fit for a king and his queen-to-be!" With a wave of his hand, the sound of music filled the air, and a procession of elves emerged from the forest, carrying platters of food fit for the gods themselves: succulent meats, fresh fruits and vegetables, artfully crafted breads, and of course, an endless supply of wine and other spirits. The smell was intoxicating, and my stomach growled in anticipation.

I glanced over at Kyle, who was watching me with a twinkle in his eye. "Do you have anything special planned for our first dance?" I asked, hoping that perhaps he'd give me a hint as to what song he had chosen. He smiled, taking my hand in his. "Oh, my dearest y/n," he began, leading me to the makeshift dance floor at the center of the clearing, "you know very well that I've been practicing a special dance just for this moment." And with that, he swept me into his arms, moving effortlessly across the floor, his steps matching mine perfectly, as if we'd been dancing together for centuries. The music swelled around us, and I couldn't help but feel that this was only the beginning of a beautiful, magical life together.

Around us, the other elves had gathered, forming a circle to watch us dance. Some clapped in time with the music, while others swayed gently, their eyes fixed on our every movement. As we twirled and spun, I felt a sense of belonging and love wash over me, and for a moment, it seemed as if nothing else in the world mattered. When the song finally came to an end, we were breathless, our bodies pressed tightly together, but neither of us wanted to let go. It was as if we were two halves of the same whole, meant to be together always.

Kyle leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. "What do you say, my queen?" he whispered, his breath sending shivers down my spine. "Shall we continue the celebration?" I nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of my lips. "Yes," I breathed, "let's dance until the stars come down from the sky." And with that, we began again, lost in the music and each other, our love a beacon of hope and light in a world that was often dark and uncertain.

As the night wore on, the feast continued, with course after course of delicious food being served to us by our attentive subjects. We drank wine and danced and laughed, and for a brief moment, it was as if the world outside the forest didn't exist. But we both knew that soon, reality would intrude once more, and we would have to face the challenges that lay ahead. But for now, we were content to bask in the glow of our love and the adoration of our people, savoring every precious moment together as the future unfolded before us.

Finally, as the last rays of the setting sun painted the treetops with a warm, golden light, Kyle excused himself from my side, murmuring something about seeing to the guests' comfort. I watched as he moved gracefully through the crowd, his presence commanding and his charm irresistible. It was then that I realized that I was no longer simply his fiancée, but rather his equal; his partner in every sense of the word.

I wandered away from the main gathering, drawn to the edge of the forest where the trees parted to reveal a small, secluded glade. The air was thick with the scent of flowers and the sound of rustling leaves, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over me as I stood there, taking it all in. I heard footsteps crunching on the grass behind me, and before I could turn around, strong hands gripped my hips and pulled me roughly against a familiar, hard body.

"My queen," Kyle breathed into my ear, his voice husky with desire. "I've been waiting for this moment all night." He pushed me back against a tree, his lips finding mine in a hungry, urgent kiss. His hands roamed over my body, tearing at my clothes, his need for me palpable. I could feel his arousal pressed against my stomach, and with a low growl, he pushed me to the ground, positioning himself between my spread legs.

As he entered me, his teeth grazed against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I arched my back, meeting his thrusts with my own, our bodies moving in perfect harmony, the rhythm of our lovemaking echoing through the forest like a primal call to the wild. The sensation of being claimed by him, of being his and his alone, was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before, and I knew in that moment that there was no place in the world I'd rather be than right here, with him.

As we moved together, lost in the intensity of our passion, I could feel the last vestiges of the day's worries and fears slipping away, replaced by a deep, abiding sense of contentment and belonging. And as our climax swept over us, our bodies twisting together in a tangle of limbs and desire, I knew that this was only the beginning of a beautiful, extraordinary life, shared with the man I loved, the man who was destined to be my king.

Everyone was happy that day. We’ll mostly everyone

Stan sits at his post as he hears his best friend’s sex noises while anger and jealousy boils up inside him.

[meanbossart]

I'm curious: was Drow's story already planned when you created his character? Or is it something you carry forward “instinctively”, giving answers to the asks about his lore by thinking about it at the moment? Is there something that inspired you to create certain aspects of it (for example his relationship with Orin)?

Hope this makes sense lol

Nope! I got Baldur's gate 3 because I wanted to pet digital cats. I picked Dark Urge because that sounded weird and fun, and made a big scary drow because I like big scary men, and drows are really funny as a race.

I got a lot of his lore and story made up as I played the game by basically doing what *I* wanted to do and then trying to figure out the character's logic behind it in-universe. Then I started planning ANE and a lot more of his backstory became clear. Answering asks and discussing it here has without a doubt helped flesh things out further but the "base" of everything was done by the time I finished the game.

His relationship with Orin is the way it is because it explains a lot of the canon for me - why she betrayed him, how she would even be able to trick him in the first place, and why she was so closely related to The Chosen's plan despite the dark urge being more of the "head" of the bhaalist side of the operation. Also, I wanted to draw parallels between herself, her mother, and Astarion - and generally just wanted to add a little more to her character since she's kinda barren, but by drawing inspiration from what was there instead of making too much stuff up.

Drow himself is loosely inspired by some of Peter Steele songs and lyrics. His and Astarion's relationship encompasses a lot of things I wished I saw more in the romance genre, but concepts of sadomasochism, fetishism, and navigating unclear power dynamics are major underlining themes.

[michanvalentine]

So, I played Baldur's Gate 3, and I played it later than many others. All thanks (or perhaps it would be better to say fault?) of a friend who told me "you absolutely have to play it"! And so I did, completely losing myself in the world of Faerûn. It was really difficult to reconcile my duties as a wife and mother with the desire to play and discover everything about the plot and the characters. In fact, it took me forever to finish! Also because I am the classic player who has to go and sift through every single jar, corner or place forgotten by the gods to make sure I don't leave anything out. I'll start by saying that I played it completely blind and that it was a heroic playthrough. So here I am with my thoughts after finishing my first run.

Morween: Hi! I am a Seldarine drow. I am a cleric of Selûne. I'm a heroine! I spit in my father Bhaal's face and I'm proud of it! Oops! I accidentally killed an innocent bard...

I don't want to talk about the game and how well made it is in its entirety. We all know this, I think. I only need to talk about my very personal relational experience with the character who won me over despite my resistance.

In a roundabout way, while I was trying to conquer the beautiful Shadowheart, I found myself in a relationship with Astarion. I had fun with him at the tiefling party more out of curiosity than anything else, plus I didn't even think he liked me and that it was just fun for him too. Up until that moment we had done nothing but argue and clash over our respective visions of the world. And the “disapprove” message was constantly over my head (along with that of Lae'zel)! Nonetheless, having him around was a delight for this reason too (in addition to the fact that I found his jokes funny). The contrast and our discussions made the interactions seem particularly real to me...

I wanted to talk with him. First of all because I found our hypothetical conversations about getting killed or which of our companions to drink extremely funny. But I wanted to understand. And I wanted him to understand too. And every time I saw "the glimmer" I felt even more motivated to bring out everything he had inside. A lot of stuff, I later discovered...

Obviously at the beginning, as a player, I was trying to understand how the game worked and my female Durge was trying to understand who the people around her were and where their misadventure would lead her. So I only understood many things later!

Morween: Wait, ehm… Whaaat?!?! Am I the weird one or... no, never mind.

In any case, when Astarion thanked me for not giving him up to the blood merchant, I wanted to make this clear to him, so I selected the "I care about you" dialogue option. But I honestly didn't realize that this would mark the beginning of my relationship with him. Afterwards I didn't feel like reloading. Even if I had to abandon the beautiful Shadoweart (with whom I had only shared a bottle of wine and a passionate kiss until then). I thought that things had happened that way for a reason and my game, my choices, had naturally led me that way. Honestly, I had to stop with Gale too, because even my favorite wizard didn't disdain the company of Bhaal's offspring too much. And it broke my heart, because every single one of them deserves to be loved, dammit!

Morween: We got problems, you and I. Big. Deadly. Serious problems. But we're also so dangerously cute together!

What followed was an intense journey full of very strong emotions, as I think it was for everyone who played Baldur's Gate 3. I became attached to my traveling companions as if they were friends in the flesh. And of course I ended up falling madly in love with my pixelated vampire boyfriend.

He's truly a well-rounded character. The thing that literally drives me crazy is that he's a fucking vampire, a real one. A vampire who acts like a vampire and has all the instincts of a vampire. He likes killing, the smell of blood intoxicates him, he has a hunger that devours him from the inside, and he can very well lose control. Finally! An accurate and truthful depiction of what it means to be a vampire. And not just a spicy detail to add to a story for horny teenagers. So the character of Astarion earned admiration points from me. Why? Because despite everything he is able to travel with different "blood bags" without necessarily attacking them and sucking them to the core. It takes great willpower to keep such appetites at bay. And yes, I know, there's that first night when the pale elf tries to attack you while you are sleeping... but hey, surprise of surprises, everyone makes mistakes. Few are those who learn from mistakes. And Astarion is more than willing to learn, another of his qualities, and he is willing to do so throughout the entire journey!

Morween: Yeah, sure, I could judge him... If I hadn't also tried to kill him while he slept...

Side note, when the urge calls and Astarion finds himself in the same situation, he is ready to forgive Durge's mistake in the blink of an eye. Because he knows, dammit. What's more, he is willing to stay there, next to them, to help them control themself. And there I thought: fuck, I want to be there for him too.

Of course Astarion has his own personality, his own flaws; and I love him for it. He's a chronic liar, yes, and he's quite selfish with a nice propensity for lust for power. All perfectly explainable and understandable, considering his past. I was shocked at the amount of abuse he had to endure. I didn't expect it, not so deep, not so real and so detailed, especially for the psychological aspects and the reaction to trauma, considering we're talking about a character from a video game. And my heart broke. 200 fucking years under Cazador. It's no wonder he's a broken man, but not finished. And it's wonderful to see his survival instinct gradually transform into a real desire to live. He is a dangerous man (elf?) but the moment you realize that he can change, he can be rehabilitated, he can heal and be better (up to a certain point, he is still a vampire, a predator with the instinct of kill and with a passion for blood), you know it was worth it. No matter if as a friend or a lover, you are the hero he has been waiting for 200 years. And, for heaven's sake, when he trusts you completely he is capable of unprecedented sweetness and sensitivity. Of course he's still the scoundrel with the sharp tongue and easy sarcasm, but after all that's why he's adorable!

Morween: I confess, Mother Superior, saving the innocent is right, but it is too obvious and easy. Redeeming the bad guys is sooooo much better, that's a real challenge! What heroine would I be otherwise? How do you say... you are not interested? Yes, right... let's talk about Shadowheart.

So when at the end of his quest he thanked me for saving him from himself (even though I only gave him a nudge), with that honest smile on his lips, my satisfaction was immense. He knows, he appreciates, he has grown. He knows exactly what loving him means and is grateful for it. It took patience and a lot of trust, even when it was an objectively stupid thing to do. It took the ability and the will to go further, to see something in him, that he could be better, and to believe in him. Believing that he was enough just the way he is. This is loving someone and making them feel loved. And it was a beautiful conclusion to his story arc.

It also took a lot of delicacy, I would add. I played the entire game and experienced my relationship with the character of Astarion with the concrete feeling that losing him would have been very easy. After all, running away, hiding, even attacking, are perfectly natural responses to fear. And as we know he is legitimately terrified of everyone.

About this: when I met Sebastian it was another shock for me. I wasn't prepared. The whole sequence is heartbreaking, but what blew my brain was the response I got from Astariom when I asked him if Sebastian had hurt him.

God. In my mind the picture suddenly became untenable. No god answered his prayers, no hero deigned to save him and the only worthy salvation for him would still have been a stake in the heart because he was considered a monster. Cazador forced him into prostitution and when he was lucky enough he only had to live with the horrible knowledge that he had delivered another innocent victim into the hands of his master. Otherwise even his own targets would do violence to him, as most were not good people. And maybe in case of a failed delivery, Cazador would also punish him later. It is no surprise that he has learned to completely dissociate himself from everything, to become numb to the events and people around him.

For him everything and everyone was suffering.

And another thing that I really appreciated was the possibility that the game gives you to allow Astarion to rediscover himself and his relationship with others, to experiment with his own limits within a finally safe space (the camp, the companions, Tav/Durge).

In any case, for me it was a truly satisfying experience. I regret nothing, not even releasing 7,000 vampiric spawn into the underdark. Perhaps this is also why I was surprised when by browsing through various social media I come across so many cruel comments and harsh opinions regarding the character of Astarion. Everyone has their own sensibilities and tastes, obviously. But damn... how much repressed anger and aggression...

Anyway, I could go on for hours writing, but a treatise on the phenomenology of the Astarion was not my project! I just wanted to vent my fangirl soul a little and share my experience with you.

I'm currently starting my second run as Astarion. My plan is to conquer the beautiful Shadowheart without a certain someone getting in the way. Maybe, if my daughter and husband don't abandon me on the highway first, I might even consider a third adventure to sink into Gale's arms (and library)! I still feel sooooo guilty for dumping him, he seemed really hurt.

But for now... and they all lived happily ever after...

[peripecias-i]

So, I'm not one to write long things on here, I'm normally commenting on posts and such. However, I've seen so much bitterness under tlovm tag (not even the criticism one) so, lets start with a DISCLAIMER: I DO have my criticims, not the post for those. So, without further ado, in this post we have - The bard didn't lament, Vax and the necrotic thingy, Cabal's Ruin is drowing just like to hope of some.

BARD'S LAMENT (BL), Tary. Yes, we had hints and the build up, however, Scanlan didn't made his promisse to Kailey, he didn't die and was not resurected in a humiliating way in front of said daugher which was the biggest part of BL for me. We can still hit the feels of it in season 4. After an year with Kailey, Scanlan is changed, he even sent a letter to Pike about it. Of course when he comes back to VM he feels the same to the group, he doesn't need to show this to them he knows his place and importance in the group, but deep down he knows and his daughter knows and that is what matters. He dies, when he comes back he is half naked, dirty in sexual innuendo food, in front of the one person he changed for, everything he's built, in his eyes, tainted and destroyed. BL with some ajusted lines, Terry is in and then gone because Vax is dead and Vecna is THE problem, not A problem anymore.

VAX, the necrotic diseased. Audiences need hints for things, CR does not have 100 hours to process and justify decisions and things that happens in the campains. IF in the animated series Revenant Vax came with that big of a consequence without a warning, can you imagine? Raven Queen warned Vax and he chose to break the rules of death itself. It's a consequece to show future consequences. I don't think is a disease that will spread, i think it's a mark, something to always remember (I might be wrong). It's something for Vax and us to understand what meddling with those forces do. It's a different medium guys, this need to be clearly and hiddenly forshadowed enough to work, if it's to clear or to hidden, the a-ha moment will never be satisfying. Vex will feel guilty about it? OF COURSE, she still dislikes the RQ to this day, she started the moment she realized his death meant their destinys were intertwined and she lost her brother to his choices. She can't blame Vax, she has to blame someone. And when Vax's destiny and choices on death will never be his blame it'll be HERS.

Cabal's Ruin is under the sea (and we have a druid). Percy was dead for the dragon's fight (Glintshore will come in a next post) no need for it for now. The twins know where it is, mythcarver can find it. We have a druid who needs to master water, and a vestige under water, what a fun combination! It was a mistake calling the episode Cloak and Dagger and not Glitshore, 'cause let's be true, there was no cloak, no dagger and no vengence. They will get the cloak. Percy will absorb the damn Meteor Sworm.

3.5 Maybe part Glitshore came earlier than I tought. But looking at our Percy, and how he forgave people but never himself, how this, leting go of vengence makes him suffer consequences but even so he chooses it because the more he does, maybe he will get to the point he can forgive himself? He screaming to be free and found, but at the same moment not feeling worthy of being saved? Urgh

So, we still have: Glintshore; Kash perma-death; The Bland Uninspired COWRDLY end of ep 12, Call me child one more time, and more that I can maybe came upon.

Hope you guys comment with all kinds of opinions 'cause I love this kind of interaction (please coment!) . Also, I have not seen the campain in a loooooong time and I might (probably will) bite my words when the MN adaptation arrives they are MY people, but, I don't like being bitter, so maybe not.

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

Can I request Halsin reacting to Tav telling him that how you love him & you only want him too after he confessed please?

Ask and you shall receive my darling ❤️

The tender moment spent together in the tavern brought you closer together, you would not say you were official but there was something between the both of you. You yearned to be official with Halsin,wanting to be the only person in his arms and mind. Yet you respected his autonomy, Halsin had always been open to invite another person into your situationship that you now had. Admittedly you did consider it after seeing the drow twins, but you shook your head and cast the thoughts away. Ever since Halsin proclaimed his affections to you that night in the tavern he was all you could think about, desiring nobody but him.

After the night at the tavern camp had been calm, people were no longer restless now that they had gotten their fill of alcohol and merriment. You were not so placid, you were ever on edge wondering how to approach Halsin, you had come to the conclusion that you wanted to be exclusive, for you to belong to him and him to belong to you. Halsin had always been open minded and free which is what scared you, you did not want to force him into a monogomas relationship if he did not truly desire it, yet you did not want to share him either. You could either have him or you could not this is what you had to wrestle with.

Camp was quiet, it had been for a while, since reaching Baldur's Gate most of the camp mates felt more at ease, you could see Halsin was uncomfortable though, not wanting to be in the bustle of the city.

"I'm sorry you have to be here Halsin, I too wish we could be back in the thick of nature" You shrugged your shoulders, nothing could be done about your current situation, you were both stuck now in Baldur's Gate, at least you could try to bond more with him now over your desire to be in the wilds of nature, feeling the grass upon your bare feet and the smell of the wind as it rustled through the trees.

"My heart, as much as I dislike this place I am here for you, not even this dreadful city could tear me from your side" Halsin's voice was tender as he took your hand in his, kissing softly against the skin of your hand. "Once this venture is complete and you feel whole again after treating your tadpole issue, I promise we can retreat back into nature, were it so that everywhere could embrace the wild but it is not to be so" Halsin's smile was gentle as he held your hand, this was to be your moment if you ever had one, the moment you could finally ask for him to be yours and you to be his.

You cleared your throat at tried to appear confident but your posture gave you away, seeing Halsin furrow his brow in confusion at you only made you more nervous before him, trying not to dwell on your jittery hand that he was holding so delicately.

Your words were rushed, barely making sense as you spat them out in a hurry, an act that only made Halsin endear himself towards you even further, hearing how you wanted only him and hoped that he would choose you too, detailing the life you could both have together, far off in the wilderness, in the full embrace of nature.

Halsin lifted your hand towards his face and kissed it gently once again before holding the palm of you hand to his chest. "My love do you feel that, the beat of my heart? It beats for you alone. Ever since I felt your warm embrace I have truly desired no other. The Oak Father himself could give me no greater honour than your love for the rest of my existence." Tears welled in your eyes as you heard his soft voice, you threw your arms around him almost knocking him off balance with surprise, the dream you had of sharing a life of tranquility now within your grasp, truly giving you something to fight for and come back to.

[pupmkincake2000]

Some thoughts.

Okay, Halsin, what the hell?

When I was playing Gale origin, I didn't know what lines to choose so I pushed any friendly dialogue button I saw so it felt okay when Halsin offered me to be his lover. Everything I had to do was to refuse his offer. This time (playing Astarion origin) I was extremely careful and didn't choose a single line that could trigger such a dialogur, even friendship ones. I did not ask him about his past (lovers) or whether he has potential partners, I only talked about helping to save Thaniel, but Halsin still offers me a polyamorous relationship and sex! Hinting that he went to Baldur's Gate with us because of... us, right after a fight with Ketheric. With Gale it felt normal because, again, I didn't know what lines to pick. But with Astarion it feels at least strange.

I mean, why? I didn't cross the line when talking to him this time. When I played Gale origin, I wasn't sure what lines would trigger his proposal, but now I've carefully avoided anything undesirable and yet he still offers me sex! God, I do love this bear, he is the walking embodiment of everything I could love in a man, both his appearance and personality is a masterpiece, except for polyamory, because it is not my cup of tea, not in this case at least, but now it is his behavior that makes me feel disapointed in him. And what infuriates me most is the confidence with which he says I also feel attracted to him, although - again! - I carefully avoided any potentially dangerous lines that could trigger his confession. What's going on with this character? So to be just friendly with him is enough to get these scenes?

Since my Astarion is in a relationship with Gale, I decided to look at his (Gale's ) reaction if he was offered such an open relationship. I decided to try different lines and it really made me smile that Gale’s first thought about adding a third person to the relationship was a child.

Also, as I thought, Gale is monogamous in a relationship and is not ready to share. I like that he speaks openly about it and to some extent even with anger that he does not agree to this, in fact, that’s why I like him.

And it was really painful to choose a line about breaking up, even if it was just to see his reaction. I never want to see that pain on his face again. This only lasts a few moments, but his disappointment in love, in the very concept of relationships, is very palpable.

I think that after such a “betrayal” he wouldn't soon decide to open his heart to someone or would not dare at all. I think that's why I like him so much. And that's why I like their relationship with Astarion. Gale is ready to give his all for someone he loves, and Astarion (at least this is very much in his character after so many years of hardship and suffering) will tightly hold on to what he considers his.

Of course, Gale can be persuaded to have sex with the drow twins (I checked this too), but I consider this a flaw on the part of the developers. You may not agree with me, but I think it isn't in his character.

Because a person who so vehemently argued that two lovers should be dedicated only to each other would hardly agree to such a thing. Same story with Astarion. People say he agrees to have sex with the twins once he's completely free of Cazador, but the narrator's words make it abundantly clear that he's still not into it: "his mind is miles away."

And the fact that Gale has to be persuaded… his first reactions tell a lot. This is clearly not in his character too. I would never believe that a person who kicks the cat out of the bedroom while changing clothes would easily agree to such a thing.

Most likely, the opportunity to persuade him to do something like this is necessary for the variability of the game, no more. In addition, Gale leaves his copy in a room that just watches this makingout, he takes no part in it. People might assume, of course, that he shouldn't/cannot have sex because of the orb, but there was nothing stopping him from sleeping with Astarion before they reached Baldur's Gate. However, it seems strange to me that after this he does not break up with Astarion/Tav/whoever or at least discusses the thing. It’s probably still a flaw on the part of the developers, because Gale doesn’t react to the situation at all. And this despite the fact that he only recently screamed about how he categorically does not accept such things.

Therefore, I believe that in order not to mislead people, the developers need to stick to the character's personality as they were intended. If a character is meant to be monogamous, then why do they need lines that suit polyamorous characters only? I understand that the game is variable, but this is not about the plot, but about the characters, whose personality has already been developed and established.

Just saying.

[whimsiandwild]

Between a Druid & a Drow

Pairing: Minthara x Female!Tav x Halsin

Word Count: 1500

Warnings: Sex. Oral (giving and receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, fluff

A/N: It would have been downright selfish not to share this with you all. Also, there may be a part two, who knows? Enjoy!

It wasn’t often the two of you got the tent to yourselves, and you were very much making the most of it. Your fingers were gripping the loose tresses that spread across her pillow like a halo, Minthara’s smile blissful as you peppered her face and neck with kisses. Her hand grasped your leather-clad backside tightly, one hand coming down for a swift, teasing smack that had you mewling against her flesh, much to her delight. You were so lost in your lover, and she in you, that neither of you noticed another enter the tent.

“Gods, apologies, ladies,” Halsin’s husky tones sent a jolt through you and you bit down on Minthara’s neck gently. “Forgive me, I shall return later.”

“A moment, druid,” Minthara lifted herself onto her elbows and smirked at him, your eyes wide with unspoken panic as you stared at her. “I believe your presence isn’t unwelcome. Perhaps you could stay a while?”

“What are you doing?” Your whisper came out strained and a low chuckle left her as she sat the two of you upright, her hair hanging beautifully below her shoulders.

“Of course, I can stay if you wish, but wouldn’t I be intruding?” Halsin asked, his confusion clear as he let the tent flap drop, trapping the three of you in the suddenly small space.

“It has come to my attention that my little one has a modicum of affection for you,” Minthara continued, your face hot as you flushed, covering your face with your hands. “I came to the conclusion that, between the two of us, we could show her just how much we appreciate her.”

“A very wise idea, indeed, Minthara.”

You didn’t have to look at him to hear the smile that had split his face, another chuckle from Minthara sending a thrill of fear through you; she knew you too well, though it wasn’t a detriment.

“Minnie, really, we don’t have to. Poor Halsin might not-oh!”

He’d knelt behind you and you could feel him against your lower back, still restrained by the fabric of his pants but- gods! How were you supposed to take that?!

“Don’t worry, little one,” Minthara purred as she pulled the lace keeping your bodice tied, squeezing your breasts tightly as it fell open. “I’ll make sure you’re ready for our dear druid.”

Before you could retort, Halsin’s callous fingers were turning you to face him, his lips crushing yours in a furious kiss, swallowing the sounds that fell from you as Minthara began swirling her tongue around your already taut nipple as she made quick work of getting your bottoms undone. Halsin lifted you, much to your surprise, and Minthara slid the offending garment off and aside, grinning like a cheshire cat as he sat you down between his legs. Hooking your legs over his massive thighs, Halsin spread you wide and you flushed, suddenly feeling very exposed. Minthara raised a brow in approval.

“I could enjoy having you around, druid,” she winked at him and dived into your core, your head falling back with a groan as she began devouring you.

Her hands wrapped around Halsin’s thighs and he huffed as she squeezed, one of his hands cupping your breast as the other gripped a handful of your hair as he kissed you once again. Minthara was working her usual magic with her tongue, everywhere at once, before adding two fingers and making you cry out against Halsin’s mouth.

“Enjoy yourself,” he murmured, his lips finding the delicious spot on your collarbone that drove you wild. “Let us please you, little one.”

Minthara hummed approvingly into your cunt, devouring you as she felt your orgasm building. The nickname should have sounded wrong falling from anyone else’s lips but from Halsin… gods, you wanted to feel him. All sensible thought left you however, as it began to build, your chest heaving as you whimpered, your head falling back as you struggled not to scream; they were completely overwhelming you.

“Let go, little one,” Minthara commanded softly, curling her fingers at just the right moment, your back arching as you covered her fingers.

She kissed you hotly as she worked you through your bliss, your tongue licking her clean, the drow moaning softly against you as she lifted her hand.

“Patience, Tav,” Another command, gently given, but it was enough to make you swallow and nod, She sat back and gazed at her fingers before looking up at Halsin with a sultry smile. “Do you wish to taste her, druid?”

A throaty chuckle left him as he leaned forward, Minthara biting her bottom lip as the druid sucked and licked your essence from her digits, your mouth falling open as you watched; you’d never been so turned on in your life.

You couldn’t decide who you were lusting for more as you gazed between the two, feeling very small and submissive; you’d do anything they asked at this point. Suddenly, Halsin released your legs, your limbs feeling like jelly as you reluctantly closed your legs. Minthara’s finger hooked your chin and pulled you to her, kissing you slowly, sensually, as she ran her hands through your hair. Once she’d pulled you onto all fours, she smirked and shimmied backwards, undressing slowly as Halsin settled himself behind you. Your mouth opened in a silent moan as he began to slide his huge length between your sopping folds, a growl rumbling in his chest as he moved. Minthara settled herself back on her elbows, leaning against the pillows in her bare beauty as she watched the two of you. The head of Halsin’s girthy cock pressed against your entrance and you mewled.

“May I, little one?”

You could do nothing but nod, your mouth once again falling open as he stretched you, inch by inch, the druid exhaling a contented breath as he sheathed himself in you. Tears pricked your eyes as he filled you completely, stretching you beautifully, and you panted as you tried to adjust to him.

“Are you alright?” he asked, one hand on your hip, the other resting gently on the bottom of your back, concern etched into every word.

“Yes,” you breathed, licking your lips as you stared at the floor, your arms shaking as you took a deep breath. “Move, Halsin. Please.”

Like a gentleman, he started slow, allowing you to accommodate him, groans falling from you ceaselessly until his thrusts picked up speed. Before you, Minthara’s legs fell open to reveal her glistening core, her fingers teasing at her clit as she exhaled happily, her eyes filled with lust as she began to pleasure herself.

Never in your life had you ever expected to be in this situation, the man of your dreams fucking you whilst your beautiful lover touched herself at the sight. Your mind stopped working, drool falling as Halsin began to slam into you, hitting all the right spots as he grunted, his grip on your hips tightening. Minthara was biting her bottom lip, and you knew that meant she was getting close.

“Minnie,” you panted, reaching out for her. “Let me taste you.”

“Gladly,” she chuckled, scooting forward until she was inches away from you, intoxicating you.

You didn’t need much prompting, gripping her soft thighs tightly as you began to suck on the sensitive bundle of nerves, Minthara moaning loudly as she bucked her hips. You could feel the coil in you tightening for the second time and knew you weren’t going to last much longer. Minthara on your tongue and Halsin destroying your cunt… it was almost too much.

You delved your tongue into her, her fingers gripping your hair tightly as Halsin began to swell and throb, his thrusts growing sloppy as he panted.

“I won’t last much longer, little one.” he licked his lips as he held you a little tighter, his fingers leaving marks on your skin. “Did you want me to release elsewhere or-?”

You shook your head furiously and Minthara gave a breathy laugh that was followed by a gasp as her walls began contracting around your tongue.

“It seems our little one is feeling greedy tonight. Fill her, druid.”

You screamed into her as your coil snapped at her words. It was already enough that she was willing to share you with someone else, but to let Halsin spill into you? You don’t think you’d ever experienced a more intense orgasm in your life. Evidently, that was all the prompting the other two needed, Minthara spilling over your tongue as she arched into you, Halsin’s primal growl as he came only thrilling you more.

Your head rest on Minthara’s stomach, her hands grazing your hair lightly as you tried to catch your breath, frowning a little as Halsin pulled away and left you empty. He did, however, appear beside Minthara within seconds and cradled you between them. His arms were strong as they wrapped around your waist, Minthara’s hand sliding over your stomach as she placed a soft kiss between your shoulder blades. It only then occurred to you that the two of them planned to stay like this, the three of you clutching each other until you eventually had to move.

You could get used to this.

[littlemourningstarr]

Lovesick

Astarion always thought flowers a waste of a gift- but maybe, just maybe, he had been wrong about that.

Read on AO3!

Pairing: Astarion x Transmasc tav

Part of the Eternally Yours series!

Tags: fluff, like TOOTH ROTTING fluff, silly little vampire in love

The moment Astarion stepped into Bonecloak’s he was hit with a wave of different scents- all the herbs and flora mingling together in the air. It was different from the way Sekh’s workshop always smelled- his always had an Earthy undertone, a hint of fresh soil as he always had living specimens.

Derryth glanced up from the counter, where she had been jotting something into what appeared to be a large log book. Perhaps doing the numbers for the day’s sales.

She didn’t smile at seeing him, but did quirk her brows in recognition. Astarion moved quickly from the door, letting it shut behind him, the city’s nightlife rising behind him now that the sun had set. “Did your other half send you on a last minute errand?” she asked, voice still gruff but not unkind. Astarion presumed she was just never an overly friendly person.

“Not quite.” He paused at the counter, glancing about at all of the herbs hanging in clumps, quickly thinking he was in over his head- and that this had been a rather stupid idea. “Sekh doesn’t know I’m here.”

She closed her log book then, looking intrigued. After a moment of heavy silence and her unyielding stare, Astarion had to glance away.

“I was hoping you might be able to… guide me. I’d like to get some…” Astarion waved his hand around, “herbs or plants or whatever that he might find useful. And might also… look nice.”

He felt rather silly, as she continued to stare him down. “That look nice?” she repeated.

Yes, this was an incredibly stupid idea.

Astarion cleared his throat. “Something that may compliment a few… flowers.” The last bit was mumbled, and he could feel a bit of color along his cheeks, his ears. Gods how had anyone ever done this? He was right to think flowers were an utter waste of a gift.

Derryth finally cracked a small, bemused smile. The crinkles around her eyes deepened. “Most folk would just get flowers.”

“I’m not most folk,” Astarion retorted, adding, “besides, what use would he have for flowers? They would sit and die on a desk or a shelf. At least something here would be useful.” He gestured around him again. “But hells if I know what exactly.”

She moved around the counter, motioning for Astarion to follow her. He did, further into the shop, swearing he was seeing plants he had never seen before. He didn’t think that was even possible at this point- not with Sekh’s obsession.

“What color flowers were you thinking,” she asked, adding, “and what mayhem has that drow been up to in his lab? Maybe we’ll get lucky and we can compliment the color and his work.”

*

Astarion continued to feel utterly ridiculous, walking through the city, clutching a mess of herbs and flowers, all tied together in a golden ribbon. Was this what lovesick youths felt like? He couldn’t remember, but it had to be the most daunting feeling. He swore everyone was staring at him.

Most nights that would be fine, but this felt- embarrassing? As if everyone knew exactly what he was up to. As if everyone could read that he was going through some overrated, ridiculous, sappy romance tradition.

It was only worse that Sekh hadn’t gone out to the Elfsong that night for a drink, but had made his way out to Sharess’s Caress. Which, again, any other night Astarion would have been utterly amused by this, would have wondered what trouble the two of them might get up to-

His thoughts all jumped to a screeching halt as he stepped into the brothel, dodging a few already drunk patrons who were chasing about one of the courtesans- a pretty half elf with a long blond braid, who gave Astarion a little smile as he moved past him.

Astarion slipped past the patrons, off into the curtained room where music was giving the air a new life. It took a moment, but he found Sekh across the room, sitting casually with Sorn and Nym as if they were simply sharing a drink in any tavern. Which, he knew, was how Sekh was seeing it. He’d chat up the other drow happily until one of them was pulled away for a patron. There were plenty of nights where patrons tried to employ Sekh, even- drunk enough to notice realize he was in fact just a patron like them.

Astarion had scared off plenty of those types, in the past.

He made his way over, his drow glancing up when he was only a few paces away, the cup he was lifting to his lips pausing and hovering near his mouth. Astarion was far too aware of Nym and Sorn watching, as well, when he finally reached Sekh.

He cleared his throat, offering out the flowers and herbs, all tangled in their gold lace, feeling as if his voice simply didn’t want to work. “These are for you,” he mumbled, adding even softer, “my love.”

Sekh set his glass down, stood up and gently covered Astarion’s hand holding the flowers with his own. His mismatched eyes were dancing. His other hand was gently touching the petals of one of the flowers- a large white bloom that Astarion had no idea the name of. He had just gone on instinct.

He was truly thinking his instincts were broken, in that moment. His pulse was alive despite that he hadn’t fed yet, his heart thumping painfully in his chest, banging against his ribs. Why was he nervous? Why did something so trivial as giving flowers to his lover make him feel like crawling out of his skin? It wasn’t as if he needed to impress Sekh, he knew. They had years together now. And yet-

Sometimes, it all still felt so new.

Sekh’s mouth curved into a soft, sweet smile. He leaned past the flowers, pressed a very gentle kiss to Astarion’s cheek. “You,” he whispered, “are a ridiculously sweet man.” He took the flowers himself, carefully examining them, as Sorn and Nym both gave soft laughs as they watched.

“Flowers? In a brothel?” Nym mused, tracing her finger around the lip of her own wine cup. “You are indeed a strange one, Astarion.”

And while he couldn’t argue that, he also couldn’t bring himself to tell her that the idea had just struck him that day, and if he didn’t go through with it now he would have lost his nerve. Over flowers. Gods what had he become?

“I guess romance is far from dead,” her brother added, as Astarion glared at both of them. They took his annoyance with nothing but more smiles.

“Is this Weavemoss?” Sekh asked suddenly, fingers dancing along the purple wisps. Astarion turned his attention back to his lover, as Sekh added, “and this is Mergrass, and this…” he trailed off, his gaze lifting from the bundle in his hands to Astarion.

The vampire shifted awkwardly. “What good would just flowers be for you? I thought you could… use those…” He waved his hand, before he reached up, covered his own eyes. “I think you should simply stake me now Sekh, it would be less painful.”

Instead of the requested stake, however, Astarion got Sekh’s arms tightly around his neck, his lover embracing him. Astarion was barely able to lower his hand from his eyes in Sekh’s grip, as the drow peppered his cheeks, the corners of his mouth, with kisses. The strange, embarrassing dread was quickly replaced by a sweet soaring feeling, as Astarion drowned in the delighted sound of Sekh’s laugh.

“You said flowers were a waste,” he teased. The way Sekh was looking at him made the world melt away, around them. If Sorn and Nym were still watching, Astarion was oblivious.

“Well they are,” he said, even if he couldn’t bring his heart into the statement. “But perhaps… I thought you might like them.”

“Oh, I love them,” Sekh said, adding, “just like I love you,” before leaning in, giving Astarion a proper kiss. The vampire’s hands drifted to his waist, squeezed gently, as he began to feel dizzy over the warm sensation of Sekh’s mouth, the taste of wine clinging to his lips, his tongue. He felt…surreal.

When Sekh pulled back, he leaned up on his toes, pressed his forehead to Astarion’s for a moment, before he eased back, glanced over at Nym and Sorn.

“I think I’m going to take him out for a little hunt,” Sekh said, “then take him home. Seems only appropriate I get the chance to let him feel… special too.”

Sekh glanced at Astarion, and the vampire’s stomach was up in the most pleasant mess of knots.

“What a bore,” Sorn said, resting his chin on his palm. “Fly away lovebirds. Perhaps you’ll entertain us another night.”

Nym only rolled her eyes at her brother, before she shooed Sekh and Astarion off. The vampire felt Sekh take his hand, tangle their fingers together, as the drow led him quickly through the brothel, back out to the bustling streets. Sekh turned them away from the gates back into the city, his other hand still clutching his flowers and herbs tightly to his chest.

“Let’s find you a little beastie to devour,” Sekh said, “so I can devour you.”

Astarion felt his heart race over the idea. Yet- “I didn’t… darling, you don’t have to-”

Sekh paused, tugging Astarion up against him. The vampire could smell the subtle floral scent, mixing with the herbs- it was oddly soothing. “You didn’t do this just to get me on my back beneath you, I know,” he teased, “you don’t have to even try for that, Starshine. But I think I’d quite like to whisper into your ear all night how much I utterly adore you, if that’s agreeable?”

Astarion swallowed thickly, lost in the scents and the cool night air and Sekh’s dancing eyes. Had he ever felt so utterly a fool and yet a king before, in his life? Had there ever been a time, before this man, where he had actually known what it was like to be so hopelessly in love?

He swore that even if there was, lost in the recesses of his long dead memory, it would still pale in comparison to what he felt now. That giddy, safe feeling, that excitement over just seeing his lover smile.

That feeling that wherever Sekh was present was home- and he was finally safe to think that.