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nerdallwritey · 4 months ago

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Cheeks All Flushed (Part 1)

***IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: Unfortunately this chapter was longer than tumblr wanted, so I've split it into two posts. The smut is in the other part if you'd rather skip shenanigans and Get To Business. And that's valid! Part 2 is here and also linked down below. Apologies! It IS all in one place on AO3 if you'd prefer that!

Summary: You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?” Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.” You snorted. “How’d that go?” “Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.” You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?” Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading. OR It's time for the Tielfing party! Antics ensue.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 23.1k (This particular part is 18.5k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of Astarion's past trauma, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, consumption of alcohol, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, reader likes kids, shenanigans amongst friends, general party antics Spoilers: Spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.) Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 3 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find Part 1 here and Part 2 here. Find the masterlist here.

a/n: Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who's read the first two parts!! It means so much to me that you guys are enjoying my writing and silliness. This chapter is much more slice-of-life than the last two parts, in that it's mostly fun at the Tiefling party with less smut. It's also the longest part so far! Apologies to those of you here for vampire penis, it'll show up again in the future surely, but tonight is more about tipsy/soft Astarion. I hope you all enjoy :) (Thank you once again to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) As a reminder of where Part 2 ended, you and Astarion just entered camp after dallying, even though Shadowheart told you not to. Rest in peace, you will be missed.

Taglist: @a66-1, @khaleesiofthewolves, @khywren, @lollipopsandlandmines,

@minestrones, @mizuki-nautilus

It was Wyll who spotted you first. He’d been wandering close to the treeline, gathering extra kindling for the fire, but something told you he’d also been keeping an eye out for you.

“You two are in heaps of trouble,” he muttered, ushering you behind Karlach’s currently vacant tent. “You’re lucky it was me who saw you first.”

“How is she?” you whispered, looking around to see if you could spot Shadowheart.

“I think seeing you might calm her down,” Wyll said, “but be prepared for an earful.”

“Oh please,” Astarion scoffed. “I’ve dealt with worse than an affronted cleric of Shar-'' He stepped out from behind Karlach’s tent and was met face to face with the cleric in question.

“What was that?” Shadowheart’s hands were on her hips.

Astarion retreated, shielding half of his body behind you. “Hello, Shadowheart,” he waved his fingers delicately and smiled awkwardly.

You leaned over to Wyll. “Save yourself,” you muttered. “We’ll be fine.”

Wyll gave you a sympathetic look and nodded. “Coming, Karlach!” he called, to which Karlach responded, “What?”

Shadowheart stood before you, looking frustrated and tapping her foot. You adjusted the pile of blankets in your arms.

“Got the blankets,” you said sheepishly. Astarion raised his pile up a little higher in agreement.

“What was the one thing I said?” Shadowheart ignored the blankets.

You sighed. “‘Don’t dally.’”

“Mhm. And what did you do?”

“We-”

“Astarion?” Shadowheart turned to the vampire.

He let out a reluctant whining sound. “We dallied.”

Shadowheart looked pleased by his admission. “Whose idea was it?”

You and Astarion shared a look.

“Don’t tell me, I already know it was Astarion’s,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes.

Astarion scoffed. “You don’t know that!”

Shadowheart raised a doubtful eyebrow and looked at you. You avoided her gaze. She looked back at Astarion. “Yes I do.”

“Darling,” Astarion hissed at you.

“I didn’t say anything!” you hissed back.

Suddenly Shadowheart grabbed Astarion’s left ear and your right ear and pulled you both out from behind Karlach’s tent. You and Astarion protested as you went.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!”

“Ah! Watch the hair, you heathen!”

Shadowheart flung her arms forward, releasing both of you and sending you stumbling forward towards the roaring fire. You caught yourselves before crashing into the flames.

“You could have KILLED us just now!” Astarion exclaimed.

Shadowheart ignored him. “Look who’s finally back,” she addressed the rest of camp.

Lae’zel scoffed, pausing the loud sharpening of her greatsword. “I must give you credit, Astarion, you last longer than I would have thought.”

Astarion straightened. “Thank you, I- hey.”

Lae’zel rolled her eyes and returned to her blade.

“Sorry, everyone,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. “We lost track of time, that’s all.” You adjusted the blankets still in your arms.

“We have nothing to apologize for,” Astarion said, moving close to you and going to kiss your cheek, but thinking better of it when he saw steam pouring from Shadowheart’s ears. “Sorry,” he said to her softly.

Shadowheart pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head disapprovingly. She clapped her hands together before she spoke. “Okay,” she said and turned to face you, “go wash those blankets and hang them to dry.” You nodded and she turned to Astarion. “Once you help carry those blankets to the lake, you are to help Lae’zel hunt for tonight’s dinner.”

Astarion made to argue. “But-”

“‘But’ nothing. I want the two of you as far away from each other as possible until everything is prepared for tonight’s festivities.”

“Here, here,” Gale agreed from over by the cookware.

“Oof, tough break,” Karlach smirked.

Astarion sniffed. “Just because some of us aren’t getting laid, doesn’t mean all of us should suffer the same fate.”

You hid your face in the laundry you were holding and groaned loudly.

“Watch it, Fangs,” Karlach warned.

Shadowheart took you by the shoulders and turned you towards the lakeshore. “Go,” she said, a bit of a bite to the word.

“Yes ma’am,” you sighed and started making your way to the waters gently lapping the sand by Withers.

“You too, Astarion,” you heard Shadowheart behind you.

“I’m going,” Astarion spat. His footsteps caught up with yours.

You dropped the blankets by the waterline and grabbed the bucket and soap that you kept nearby for laundry duty, one of your commonly assigned chores. Astarion’s pile of blankets joined your own, then his arms came around your waist from behind, and his chin came to rest on your shoulder.

“Sorry, love,” he murmured, kissing your cheek.

“At least we’re not dead,” you leaned into his caress.

“You are so incredibly out in the open it’s unbelievable,” Shadowheart called from a few yards away.

“GIVE US A MOMENT,” Astarion snapped back in her direction. He turned to look at you, his frustration turning into fondness. “I’ll see you soon.” He kissed the crown of your head just as Lae’zel began to complain.

“Let’s go, vampire. Before someone else steals what is rightfully ours.”

“I’m not anyone’s!” you complained to the sky above you.

“Is it truly so hard to believe that she actually likes me?” Astarion asked as he made his way to his tent to prepare for the hunt.

“You are handsome but weak,” Lae’zel informed. “Far from the optimal pleasure partner.”

“I could make you eat those words,” Astarion teased.

“You would not last a single minute with me,” Lae’zel said and then returned to her own tent to prepare.

You sighed, embarrassed but not surprised by the camp’s reaction to your delayed arrival with Astarion. There was no talking your way out of it, especially with Astarion’s line about getting laid. The bastard. He could be so annoying sometimes.

At least you didn’t have to dance around it. Even though less than twenty-four hours ago you would have insisted that there was nothing going on between you and the Astarion, now you smiled to yourself, happy that that was no longer the case.

“Thou hast now a bosom companion-”

“MISTRESS OF REVEL,” you yelped, clutching a hand to your chest to slow the pounding of your heart. You exhaled and turned to see Withers looking more or less unbothered. “You scared me, Withers.”

“Take care that thou are not distracted on thy quest, seeking the comforts of the flesh.”

You stared at him. “Gods, you sleep with a guy ONE time.”

Withers stared back.

“Okay, two times.”

The stare continued.

“Okay, so he made me cum, like, five times total, is that what you want to hear?”

Withers said nothing.

You groaned and picked up a blanket, hiking your pants up your legs. “Whatever, stop looking at me.” You waded out into the water, blanket in one hand, soap and bucket in the other.

“Recall that in time, all becomes dust and bone.”

“All becomes dust and bone,” you mocked quietly. “You’re a pretty morbid guy, you know that?”

You looked over at him and swore you could see a small smile before his expression faded into one of cool indifference as usual.

~~~~~

It had taken nearly all afternoon to finish washing and hanging all the blankets to dry on the makeshift clothesline you’d erected lining the water’s edge, but you’d done it. Shadowheart had been kind enough to cast Lesser Restoration on you to combat the fatigue of blood loss and to help fade the marks still leftover on your neck. As a result, all you’d suffered from washing was some mild back pain from constantly bending to dunk and soap the blankets and standing back up to hang them. Laundry out here wasn’t the easiest task, especially without the proper tools you’d usually find in the city, but you enjoyed the peace that came from the still waters of the lake. Today, you’d been extra thorough in your work and you were pretty sure the blankets were cleaner now than they had been when Astarion had nicked them from your companions in the first place.

Speaking of your companions, Shadowheart was doing her best to keep Astarion away from you for as long as possible. When he’d come back from hunting with Lae’zel, she’d made him help Gale prepare the meat.

“Even though I can’t partake in the meal,” he’d protested, “I have to help prepare it? Really?”

“Ah, relax,” Gale smacked him a little too hard on the back, “you can drain it dry first. Much easier if you go to town on the creature rather than letting me exsanguinate it myself with a blade.”

“I’m not some personal predator,” Astarion crossed his arms. A beat. “But fine, I suppose I can help this one time.”

After he’d drained tonight’s meal, a large wild boar, Shadowheart had sent him and Wyll to scavenge for more wine at the Blighted Village. He’d complained about the long trek and the poor quality of the wine they’d probably find, but Wyll had been able to drag him off after a bit of flattery and the batting of eyes. The man was too easy sometimes.

By then, the sun hung low in the sky and you’d asked Karlach to come stand by the blankets and act as a heater to speed up the drying process.

“Do you miss him already?” she teased.

“Who?” you teased back, adjusting another blanket.

“Do you loooove him?”

You sputtered. “What?! No! I mean- I don’t know! This is new for me, and new for him and we’re figuring things out, we’ve barely talked about it and-”

She laughed at your word vomit. “Was it good?”

You paused. “Was what good?”

Karlach rolled her eyes. “You know what.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and your heart begin to pound. “Can we not talk about this?”

Karlach groaned. “Come on Soldier, I’m so pent up it’s criminal! I know I’d ride him to the Feywild and back if I had the chance.”

“Karlach!” You whisper shouted. Luckily the others were too busy with their assigned preparation tasks to pay attention to the two of you huddled behind the damp blankets.

She didn’t say anything, but raised her eyebrows at you to encourage you to talk.

You sighed and avoided eye contact. “It was really good,” you muttered, hoping she might not hear you.

A smug smile graced her lips. “I knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, wringing the water out of one of the blankets on the end of the clothesline.

“He seems like the type who’d know his way around.”

“Yeah, well.”

“And how does he compare? Best you’ve ever had?”

“Um…” You pursed your lips.

“Wait, but you just said it was really good?”

“It was!”

“But-?”

“There is no but! He was really good!”

“You’re hiding something, Soldier, I can tell. He wasn’t the best you’ve ever had?”

“It’s just that… there haven’t been… others… to compare it to.”

Karlach stared at you. “WHAT?!” Her flames erupted to the point where you had to take a few steps back.

“Shh! Quiet!” You listened for your other companions but heard nothing.

“Don’t tell me Astarion was your first?!”

“And so what if he was!”

“The smug bastard,” Karlach muttered. Her face grew serious. “If he so much as looks at you wrong, tell me, and I’ll kill him.”

You laughed. “Shadowheart’s first in line to kill him, but don’t worry, I’ll have you waiting in the wings.”

“I’m serious. I’ll kill the pointy freak before he can hurt you, mark my words.”

You laughed again, moving closer to her now that her flames were calming. “Astarion and I are both adults. I’ll be fine.” Your voice went soft, “And I think he truly cares for me.”

Karlach huffed in disbelief. “Gross little vampire probably smelled your virgin blood and couldn’t keep away.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. He likes me.”

“We all like you,” Karlach sighed. “You’re a lot of fun.”

“Thank you.”

“But none of us would want to see you get hurt by the leech.”

“You know, I think he’s more sensitive than you all realize.”

“Astarion.” It was more of a statement of disbelief than a question. She raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“Mr. ‘Tell Me How You’d Like to Die?’ Mr. ‘Describe How I Look in the Mirror and Tell Me I’m Beautiful?’ Mr. ‘I Have A Troubling Relationship with Power Over Others?’” She looked at you pointedly. “Mr.-”

“Alright,” you cut her off.

“No wait, I've got another.” Karlach held up her finger like she was about to say something. “Nope. Lost it. Damn, it felt like a good one, too.”

“We all have our quirks,” you said, steering the conversion back on track. “Astarion, I think, has a few more than one might deem acceptable, but I trust him. He’s been true to his word about everything so far.” Your voice got small, “And I really like him.”

Karlach blew out a breath of resignation. “I know you do, Soldier.” Her hesitance turned into thoughtfulness. “And he did look pretty smitten when I found you both this morning.”

Your face went red at the memory. “Gods, that was so embarrassing. I still can’t believe we fell asleep out there.” Your brain took a second to process what she’d said. You turned to look at her, a small smile forming. “‘Smitten?’ Do you really think so?”

Karlach rolled her eyes affectionately. “Yes, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Your small smile grew into a smirk of satisfaction. You grew giddy. “You should have heard him, Karlach! He was so sweet, and gentle, and he kept checking in with me, and didn’t make me feel awkward or bad, and his body, oh my GODS, his body! When I say he’s unfairly beautiful, it truly is unfair because, how in the Nine Hells do you get abs like that and-”

Karlach was watching you with a fond smile on her face. She grinned and lifted a hand to stop you. “Okay, okay, I believe you. He took care of you.”

You sighed happily. “He did.”

“I’m glad.” After a moment, she sighed dramatically. “Okay, so maybe he didn’t just fuck you in some sort of weird vampire power play because you’re a virgin.”

“Karlach!” You furrowed your brows. “Seriously?”

“Oh, sorry,” she amended, “you were a virgin.”

You scrunched your nose at her. “You’re so lucky you’re a walking inferno, otherwise I’d punch you so hard right now.”

“You don’t have the guts,” she teased. “You’re too soft, Soldier.”

“I am,” you sighed in agreement.

The two of you stood in a pleasant silence while Karlach paced back and forth to dry the blankets evenly.

“I’d hug you if I could, you know,” she said quietly. “I am happy for you. And if anyone is getting laid around here, I’m glad it’s you.”

“Thanks?” you laughed.

“But if he gives you any trouble, you come find Mama K, yeah?”

You saluted her playfully and she mirrored you.

“Your guests dost approach from the east.”

“WITHERS,” you stomped your foot, pretending to be upset, but smiling over at him. “We need to put a bell on you to remind us that you’re still alive.”

“I am not still of this realm of existence,” Withers corrected.

“You know what she means, skelly boy,” Karlach grinned over at him and then at you. “Come on soldier, let’s go greet our adoring fans.”

Karlach led the way to the center of camp where sure enough, Halsin and the tieflings of the Emerald Grove were emerging through the brush. Halsin caught your eye and waved affably. You waved back, happy to see him looking so well after the rescue from the goblin camp.

Behind him, he tugged a cart meant for an ox, filled to the brim with food and booze and the eight troublesome kids who’d been kind enough to show you their hideout hidden beneath the Grove. Mol hopped out first, followed by Arabella and Mattis and the others who looked around briefly before zeroing in on the abandoned little temple past the waterfall in the corner of camp. They made their way over to it and disappeared inside.

Noted. You’d have to check on them later.

Suddenly a flash of blue and pink was launching itself at you and you stumbled backwards as it wrapped you in a tight hug.

“Alfira!” you wheezed, returning her hug.

She pulled away, grinning. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day!” She was positively giddy and her mood was infectious. “I need to get some wine in me first, but we must play something together!”

Your smile faltered a little. “I’d love to, but my lute’s a little worse for wear.” You led her over to your tent and gathered a few pieces of the shattered instrument from your bag.

“Oh, you weren’t kidding.” Alfira took the pieces and examined them closely.

Lakrissa found her way over to you. “Is this one causing trouble?” she asked, playfully slinging an arm around Alfira’s shoulders. “She was buzzing all afternoon about this shindig.”

“Hi Lakrissa,” you greeted happily. “No, I was actually just showing her the state of my lute.” You pulled a loose string out of your bag to emphasize your point.

“I’ve seen this before,” Alfira took the string from you and inspected it along with the few shards of wood you’d already handed her. “The music overtook you during a particularly powerful song and your trusty instrument suffered the consequences. Did you bash it into a rock in a fit of musical liberation? Been there.”

You gritted your teeth sheepishly. “I wish it was in a fit of musical liberation. No, I kind of got backed into a corner protecting Astarion from a bugbear attack.”

“The mouthy one?” Lakrissa asked.

“You’ve met a mouthy bugbear?”

“No, Alfie, I mean their mouthy friend. The one with the hair?” She lifted her hand up to her own head to try and emphasize the height of his hair.

“Oh yeah! Hard to keep track of you all,” Alfira shrugged.

You laughed, “Think about how we feel! There’s a billion of you!” You gestured around to the tieflings that were now acclimating to your spruced up camp.

Shadowheart had done a great job of tidying the clearing of fallen branches and mischievous weeds and had gone around making sure that everybody’s tents were in order. With the help of Lae’zel and Karlach, the three had managed to move a large log into the center of camp that was acting as a table that currently housed the booze your party had gathered, along with the food Gale had been preparing all afternoon.

Gale, as soon as he’d declared the meal to be sufficient, had gone around hanging colorful banners throughout the camp with a few magic words and the snap of his fingers. You’d offered to help him in his effort but he politely declined, citing Shadowheart’s wrath.

Now Halsin, Zevlor, and a few of the other adult tieflings were unloading the cattle cart and adding their hoard of food and drink to the table. Shadowheart and Gale were already filling goblets with wine and Lae’zel was chatting with (or maybe threatening) a tiefling that you recognized as one of the guards at the gate to the Grove. Karlach waved over at you from where she was talking with Dammon and you returned it happily.

You turned back to Alfira and Lakrissa. “Sorry Alfira, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to play with you tonight.”

“Nonsense!” She took you by the hand and led you and Lakrissa to the cattle cart. She pulled out two lutes and held one out to you. “One’s my teacher’s. I’ll play hers and you can borrow mine for tonight.”

You took the instrument she offered carefully, testing its weight in your hands. It was lovingly worn and smooth to the touch. You gave an experimental pluck at one of the strings. Perfectly in tune. You strummed a chord and minor illusioned Gale’s robes to go from deep purple to a loud, obnoxious orange.

Gale paused in his pouring of wine as Shadowheart snorted. He looked down at his robes then looked over at you smirking at him. “Hey…” He scolded with no ice behind his words. He addressed Alfira and Lakrissa who were holding back giggles, “You realize you’ve just given her a literal instrument to channel the weave more potently, and now she can make tonight extremely irritating for us all?”

“You missed my illusions,” you teased, strumming again and returning his robes to their royal purple hue.

“On the contrary, we were only gifted about twelve blissful hours without you tormenting us with your tomfoolery.”

You pouted at him teasingly. “How sad.” You poised your hands, ready to strum another chord. “I could make things so much worse,” you threatened, your voice lowered to a stupid octave.

“Behave,” Shadowheart raised her eyebrows at you, but you could see the amusement that played at her features.

“Fine,” you groaned and turned back to Alfira. “Thank you for this, I promise not to attack another bugbear with it for the sake of the mouthy one.”

A voice sounded from behind you. “The mouthy one?”

Astarion came to stand beside you, his hands clasped behind his back and skin speckled with blood spatter. For some reason, he absolutely stank.

“Oh gods,” you said, scrunching your nose and turning away. “Did you and Wyll wander into a stinking cloud or something?”

“Hello, dearest,” he purred, pulling you to him and puckering his lips for a playful kiss, but you pushed his face away, avoiding his mouth at all costs.

“Get away from me, freak,” you laughed as he was able to plant a kiss on your cheek with a loud “MWAH.” He looked very pleased with himself.

Alfira and Lakrissa, meanwhile, watched this display politely with their noses plugged.

Lakrissa gestured between the two of you. “When did this happen?” Her voice was nasally.

“He’s always been a jackass,” you said.

“She means, love, when did you finally pluck up the courage to confess your undying love for me?” The flamboyant lilt in Astarion’s voice made you smile.

“This just happened, actually,” you said, pointing from you to Astarion. “The stink is extra new.”

“Do you like it, darling? A gift from one of the goblins at that Blighted Village. They weren’t pleased we came for their wine, stink bombs were thrown, blood was spilled, a tale as old as time.”

“Did you get to murder a bunch of goblins?” Despite the topic, you spoke to him as if he were a child.

“I did,” he said, his voice gravelly, his face twisted in a wicked smirk.

“Good for you. Now get the hells away from us.” You pointed in the direction of his tent. “I don’t know why you haven’t already scrubbed your skin raw to get rid of that smell. You hate things of a vile nature.” You adjusted your accent to sound like him as you said the last bit. “Though you do love gore.”

“I had to share this delightful experience with you first, my sweet. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” You gave him a teasingly sour expression and pushed him off in the direction of his tent. “Get fresh clothes and go jump in the lake or something! Then burn that armor!”

Astarion grabbed your arm and pulled you closer again, much to your dismay and protest. He brought his mouth to your ear. “Care to join me?”

You met his gaze, which flickered down to your lips for a moment, only for a roguish grin to spread across his face. You grew flustered and looked away.

“Maybe later.”

He chuckled, “Can’t wait.” Then he spun on his heel and headed off to his tent.

“Sorry about that,” you said, turning back to Alfira and Lakrissa, only to discover that they’d already walked away. You spotted them pouring themselves some wine a little ways off and sighed.

“They left ages ago,” Astarion called over his shoulder.

“And you’re still here?” you called back, smiling.

He laughed and you settled Alfira’s lute safely within your tent before you meandered your way over to Rolan and his siblings who were seated not far off. Rolan was bent over, his eyes closed in concentration.

“Evening, folks,” you greeted and were met with joyful hellos from Lia and Cal.

“You’re just in time for Rolan’s extremely cool magic trick.” Lia teased.

“That is, if he’d hurry up and do it already,” Cal added.

“Patience,” Rolan said. “Have you no respect for showmanship?” He cracked his knuckles enthusiastically.

Cal leaned forward and whispered loud enough for all of you to hear, “Having performance issues, Rolan?”

“Hush, you,” Rolan rolled his eyes.

“I, for one, love a good bout of showmanship,” you settled in next to Cal. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Rolan gestured to you, vindicated. “Thank you,” he said through gritted teeth as he looked at his siblings. He took a deep breath. “And…”

A burst of colorful light erupted from his hands as he lifted them into the air.

“...behold!” He exclaimed as the colors faded into tiny bursts of light, dissipating like fireworks.

You clapped excitedly. “Beautiful!”

Rolan looked over at you, clearly pleased. “Adoring applause? You’re too kind.” He bowed dramatically, making a show of his gratitude.

Lia turned to Cal. “Remember when he could barely cast that?”

Cal nodded. “They grow up so fast.”

Something caught your attention from a ways off. Peeking out from behind the large cluster of rocks you found yourself facing was Silfy; the younger sister of Mattis, the tiefling child who tried to sell you a “lucky ring.” Astarion had halted your hand when you went to give him a coin, shaking his head and explaining that you were being scammed.

Now, however, Silfy seemed alone. You remembered how upset she’d been when you caught her trying to rifle through your pockets.

“Never have I met such troglodytes,” you heard Rolan laugh. “Now, pass the wine.”

“I have to take care of something,” you said as you stood up. “I’m sure I’ll see you again before the party’s over,” you smiled and waved, making your way over to Silfy’s hiding spot.

You saw her see you and duck behind the rock.

“Hello,” you coaxed gently, bending on your knee to level your height with hers. Silfy poked her head out but looked nervous. “It’s okay,” you encouraged. “You’re Silfy, right?”

She came out slowly and nodded.

“That was a pretty cool show just now, huh?” You said, referencing Rolan’s trick which she’d no doubt seen.

She nodded again and looked at her feet.

“What are you doing over here all alone?”

She sniffled. “Mattis was mean to me.”

You tilted your head. “What did he say?”

Silfy looked up at you. “He said Mol would never let me in her Guild in the city because I’m no good at pick-pocketing.” Her voice wobbled and you could tell she was trying not to cry.

You hid a smile. The things siblings fought about… And this particular fight was extra unusual. “Should we go talk to him?” you asked.

“Okay,” she said and watched as you stood.

“Come on,” you said and took her hand.

Together, you and Silfy walked around the length of camp, passing people as you went. You tossed out polite greetings and a few kind words, but eventually made it to the waterfall and the slippery log that connected your camp to the little temple where you knew the other kids were hanging out. You held tight to Silfy as you crossed the log.

Mol stood by the entrance. “Silfy!” she exclaimed, clearly happy to see her. “There you are.”

Silfy let go of your hand and approached Mol. “Sorry I’m no good at pick-pocketing,” her voice barely audible above the roar of the waterfall a few feet away.

“Is that what Mattis said that made you run away? Ah, don’t listen to him. You’ll get plenty of practice before we reach the Gate.”

Silfy stood up a little straighter and looked pleased.

Mol cocked her head towards the temple entrance. “Get in there,” she smiled.

Silfy smiled back and ran inside. Mol turned to face you.

“Thanks for that,” she said.

“Happy to help,” you said, attempting to subtly peer into the temple and see what the others were up to.

“You came through for us. That’s a change from most adults I know.”

You shifted a little to try and get a better angle. It was too dark.

“What are you guys doing way over here?” you asked absently.

“Watching a bunch of old folks get dumber by the dram-full. And when they run dry… I’ve got a few bottles tucked away to keep things flowing.” She grinned at her own ingenuity. “For a price, of course,” she added.

“Smart,” you nodded and crossed your arms. An idea had struck you earlier in the evening when you saw the kids slink over here. You readjusted your feet, trying to look like an authority figure but knowing Mol was probably immune to the act. “How would you guys like to get a little practice in, this evening?”

Mol looked at you curiously. “Practice what?”

“Scamming. Scheming. Stealing.”

“I’m listening.”

“One of the men I travel with, the one with the hair-”

“-long or floofy?”

“Floofy, for sure,” you answered almost immediately.

“Right. I know him.”

“Well he considers himself to be an expert at sleight of hand.”

Mol scoffed.

“I know,” you agreed. “I think you should all prove you’re better than him.”

“Easy,” Mol crossed her arms. “How?”

“Here’s my proposal: You each try to take something from his tent or off his person without getting caught. If you get caught, you’re out.”

“And if we don’t get caught?”

“Depending on what it is you took, I might let you keep it.”

Mol scoffed again. “What’s the point of stealing off him if there’s a chance we won’t be able to keep our spoils?”

You pursed your lips in agreement. “Honestly, I really want to prank him and I think it would be hilarious if you guys took his stuff. He loves his stuff.”

“I do love a good con…” Mol pondered for a moment. “Alright, counteroffer.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Since you happened to catch me in a good mood; we do this for you and we have your sworn loyalty once we establish ourselves as the best Guild in the Gate.” She thought for another moment. “Also two hundred gold.”

You sucked in a breath. “You drive a hard bargain, Mol.” You held out your hand for her to shake. “But you’ve got a deal.”

“Hang on, you’re not gonna try to talk us out of it? Not gonna haggle?”

“I already tried to talk you out of it back at the Grove,” you shrugged. “But you’re all way too clever for your own good and I know there’s no changing your minds. Besides, it’ll be nice to have some friends waiting for us in the city.” You smiled at her, your hand still outstretched.

She returned your smile and took your hand, shaking it firmly. “Deal.”

“A pleasure doing business with you,” you bowed dramatically and Mol snickered.

Mol made her way to the open door of the temple. She looked back at you. “I expect to see that two hundred gold before the night is through.”

“I’ll go get it right now,” you said pointing back towards camp.

Mol nodded, satisfied, then entered the temple. You heard her shout as you were leaving: “Alright, listen up! We’ve got a job.”

You smiled to yourself. You didn’t know what had come over you, and you knew that it was dangerous to be negotiating deals with con artists in the making, but you couldn’t help yourself. Especially after Astarion had crowded you in the aftermath of the stink bomb he’d been hit with. You loved watching him squirm and this was a great opportunity to do so. Mol and her gang of tiefling troublemakers were harmless as they were right now. They’d managed to take odds and ends from around the Grove, minus Arabella’s attempt to take the idol from the druids’ ritual. There was nothing currently at camp that couldn’t be replaced on the road. After all, you’d all crashed onto the same beach with nothing but the clothes on your backs. Well, except maybe the artifact Shadowheart concealed on her person, but you had just sicced the kids in the opposite direction towards the vampire.

You made your way back into camp, stopping to chat with Zevlor and Halsin.

“Gentlemen,” you acknowledged, trying not to seem guilty after conspiring with the leader of the child criminals a few yards away. “A pleasure to see you both.” You noticed Zevlor was enjoying a goblet of wine, but Halsin was not. “Not partaking in the revelry, Halsin?”

He chuckled. “I assume you mean my lack of a goblet of wine or a cask of ale?”

You nodded.

“In truth, I rarely imbibe. The stuff goes right to my head. Before you know it, I’d be breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I laid eyes on.”

“Oh, ho, ho.” You and Zevlor made amused eye contact. “You sure you’re not a bard, archdruid?” You elbowed Halsin playfully and he chuckled again.

“You’ve never heard me singing. Which makes you very fortunate.”

Zevlor laughed. “Yes, the singing we could probably do without. It feels so good to see these people smiling, let’s not ruin it. ”

“Then I shall not keep your ear any longer,” Halsin said, holding up his hands in playful surrender. He nodded to you. “There are many grateful people here who want to spend time with you. Go enjoy yourself. Seek out some wine before it runs dry; there are a lot of thirsty people around here.”

Zevlor raised his goblet to you. “Here, here.” You mimed raising your own cup to clink with his. You exchanged goodbyes and the men resumed whatever conversation they’d been having before you walked by.

Your tent wasn’t far off and you knew you had plenty of gold in your bag to spare for your hired thieves. You exchanged a few more hellos before making it over to your tent. You lit a single candle to help you search your bag in the dim light of your tent and tried to not draw attention to yourself. You started digging through your bag for your coin pouch.

Just as you’d counted out the last of the gold, you heard Astarion behind you.

“Here’s my little treat,” he purred.

You stood up quickly, miscalculating where you were located in space and hitting your head against the top of your tent.

“Agh!” you yelped, turning around to face Astarion and ducking to properly exit. You looked away from him, hoping he wouldn’t ask what you were up to.

He looked you up and down. “With their cheeks all flushed.”

“Hi,” you said, not knowing how to respond.

“Hello,” he smiled, drawing closer. “You’ll notice a distinct lack of blood stains and horrid stench to me.” He held out his arms and spun to show off his fresh, clean appearance. “It’s crazy what a little water and perfume can accomplish.”

“Well done,” you teased. “You’ve mastered basic hygiene.”

He moved even closer. “Go on,” he said, leaning towards you, “give me a sniff.”

“And smell more rotten eggs? I’ll pass.”

“Come on,” he said, rolling his eyes.

You looked at him skeptically, then leaned in a little and inhaled.

He smelled just as good as he had this morning, perhaps even better given that he’d just reapplied whatever it was he used to scent himself. You leaned in closer to his throat and inhaled again. It was a clean scent; one that was mature and distinctly male. It was delicious.

“What is that?” you asked, not pulling away.

Astarion chuckled lowly. “You like it?”

You finally pulled back and nodded.

“Just a little scent profile I concocted to mask the unfortunate smell of death that comes from being, well, dead.”

“Do tell,” you probed, just as you noticed Mattis and Silfy sneaking around, a little ways off, clearly on their way to you and Astarion. You did your best to hide your stare, but Astarion noticed when your eyes shifted back a little too quickly and he looked behind himself. Mattis and Silfy quickly ducked behind a nearby tent. He turned back to face you.

“Thought I saw something. It was nothing.” It was a bad excuse, was what it was.

Astarion narrowed his eyes but continued, excited to talk about his scent mixture. “Mind you, my undead smell is very faint, but it’s nothing a little bergamot, rosemary, and a hit of aged brandy can’t hide. It’s the perfect olfactory disguise for a corpse.”

“Sounds like you missed your calling as a perfumer,” you said, genuinely interested in what he was saying but noticing Mattis and Silfy out of the corner of your eye.

“I did, didn’t I?”

It was then that Mattis and Silfy approached you both.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mattis said, the picture of innocence. “Silfy and I just wanted to thank you again for finding her earlier.”

Silfy nodded.

“Oh!” you said, doing your best to sound shocked. You bent to get on eye level with her again. “I’m glad you’re okay, Silfy.”

Silfy sniffled and threw her arms around your neck. “Oh, thank you, Miss Hero!”

“Aw, this is too much,” you said, rubbing her back and making eye contact with Mattis. “I’m always happy to help.”

Mattis came around behind you and hugged you as well.

“Thank you for reuniting me with my baby sister.”

You felt his hand reach for your own and grab the pouch containing the two hundred gold for Mol. He concealed it expertly.

Both he and Silfy pulled away from you at the same time. “Well, guess we better head back to the others. It was so nice meeting you.” Mattis turned to leave but Silfy lingered.

“Come find us in Baldur’s Gate!”

You smiled at her. “We definitely will,” you squeezed her hands before she shuffled off to join Mattis walking back towards the temple.

You stood up, dusting off the front of your pants.

Astarion looked at you with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.

You pointed with your thumb over your shoulder in the direction the kids were headed. “That was weird.”

“Why’d you give them a coin purse?”

You sputtered. “Why did I-? Whaaaaat? I didn’t-”

Astarion placed his hands on his hips.

You sighed and looked at your feet. “Okay, I didn’t want to tell you this, but Silfy was upset because Mattis said she wasn’t good at pick-pocketing, so I went to the kids and said Silfy could practice on me.” You smiled lamely.

“So why did the brother pocket it?” He was onto you.

“I uh… think it was a round one type of thing. So next time it’ll just be Silfy.”

“Uh huh.” Astarion didn’t look convinced. “I’m going to assume you lost some sort of bet with Mol and her fleet of child criminals and that those two are the ones who came to collect.”

“Ah!” you exclaimed. “You caught me! I said I could beat Arabella in a staring contest and lost big time. Like, double or nothing lost.”

Astarion tsked and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You really must stop picking fights with children that you cannot win.”

“I can win,” you got defensive, even though you were lying through your teeth.

Astarion tilted his head in disbelief.

“I can!” You doubled down.

“Mhm.” Astarion leaned forward and kissed you deeply, tilting you back a bit and bringing his hand to your cheek.

He pulled away and you blinked back at him, dazed.

“I missed you,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “You and your weird soft spot for those urchins.” He pretended to gag, as if admitting such things was making him sick.

“Aw, shucks.”

He groaned. “I’m going to have to insist that you remove ‘aw shucks’ from your vocabulary immediately.”

“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Your eyes went to his mouth.

He flashed his fangs. “Don’t tempt me, darling.” He bent forward to kiss your neck and you tilted your head to give him better access.

“Astarion,” you half protested, “people can see us.”

“Let them,” he hummed against your throat. He moved his mouth so it was beside your ear. “Come to my bed tonight.”

A pleasant chill ran through your body. “I’ve seen your bed,” you sighed, thinking of the wooden pallet in his tent that was often covered with jars of half-drunk animal blood. “Come to mine instead.”

Astarion growled from the back of his throat and kissed your neck again.

“Yo, Astarion!” Karlach’s voice called from the food table.

He pulled back slowly and turned to her, his arms still resting around your waist. “I’m a smidge busy here, Karlach.”

Karlach held up her hands innocently. She made eye contact with you and winked. “I just wanted to know if you’d seen all the wine the tieflings brought.”

“Of course I’ve seen the wine, I procured half of- wait, the tieflings brought wine?” He immediately pulled away from you and marched over to the table, examining the copious bottles of liquor. “So I got a stink bomb thrown at me and it was for nothing?!”

Karlach sucked in a breath. “Seems like it. Sorry, mate.”

Astarion turned back to look at you, clearly distraught by this discovery. You withheld a laugh.

He turned back and picked up a bottle and goblet. “Well, we’ll see who’s the better sommelier: me or the half-fiends.”

Karlach turned quickly and whipped him with her tail.

“Hey!” He stumbled a little, but caught himself.

“Whoops! Sorry, you can never trust us half-fiends.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Oh,” Astarion backtracked. “Apologies, Karlach. I didn’t mean that.”

“Mmm,” Karlach crossed her arms. Then she smiled. “Wanna get drunk?”

“Gods, yes,” he sighed and uncorked a bottle, grabbing two goblets. He turned back towards you, still standing at your tent. “Care to partake?”

You smiled and shook your head. “I’m going to continue with my rounds,” you said, pointing vaguely towards the party at large.

Astarion shrugged and turned back to Karlach.

“Your loss, Soldier!”

“Save me a glass of the best stuff,” you called before walking in the direction of Gale’s tent.

“No promises,” Astarion sang as you rounded the corner and found Gale at his tent, a goblet of wine in his hand and a half eaten plate of food set off to the side.

“And how’s my favorite wizard enjoying the evening’s festivities?” you asked upon arrival.

“Ah,” he smiled, “come to turn my robes yellow this time?”

You held up your hands. “No lute. Sorry about earlier.”

“All in good fun,” he reassured. “I did miss your tomfoolery.”

“I knew you did,” you elbowed him playfully and he laughed.

“A beautiful night, don’t you think?” He looked up at the stars.

Your gaze followed his. “That it is.”

“Nothing like a brush with destruction to make one appreciate the majesty of the celestial canvas.”

“Yes, destruction by cleric would have been a tough way to go.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled and looked back up at the stars. “This is a view I once might have shared with my companion. Though definitely unaccompanied by such revelry.” He gestured over to Danis and Bex, drunkenly giggling with each other not far off.

He turned back to you. “She preferred it when we were alone, curled up before a crackling hearth with some ancient, esoteric tome between us, ink glinting by the firelight…”

You smiled at the wistful look on his face. “I hope you’re referring to your cat and not Mystra.”

“By Ahghairon’s lost nose- no!” His voice cracked a little as he exclaimed. “Tara is not any cat. She’s a tressym. And given your confusion, I’m guessing you’ve never met one.”

“Guilty,” you said, smiling sheepishly.

“They’re brilliant creatures; fine company for any self-respecting wizard. She’d be most impressed by our efforts saving these tieflings. Proud, even. And I’ve given her little to be proud of recently.”

“Not true! Gale, you have so much to be proud of.”

“You’re very kind,” he sighed. “She’s the one who discovered that the orb’s fury could be quelled with magically-infused items, you know.”

“You’re kidding! How’d she figure that out?”

“A lot of trial and error,” Gale laughed, holding a hand to his chest where the orb laid quiet for now. “I can still feel the phantom torment of her claws prodding me. Regardless, after so long being cared for by someone else, it feels good to repay the favor. Not directly to Tara, but these poor tieflings. I’m sure she would approve.”

You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I know she would.”

He smiled at you, then looked away. “So… you and Astarion.”

“Me and Astarion,” you bobbed back and forth on your feet.

“He has a certain charm about him, Astarion,” he nodded. “Then again, so does a tiger when it purrs.” He took a swig of his wine.

“Gale, if I did something that led you to think-”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted before you could finish the thought. “You did nothing of the sort. I think I’m just too deep in my cups.” He looked down into his goblet and sighed before looking back at you. “I’m glad you found each other. And better I have this revelation now than farther into our journey.”

“You’ll always be my favorite wizard,” you said, punching his bicep in playful camaraderie. “I hope this doesn’t change things between us. I value our friendship too much.”

He chuckled softly, his hand ghosting over where yours had just made contact. “This changes nothing.” A reassuring smile graced his features.

Movement to your left on the beach caught your attention.

“Is that Wyll?” you asked.

Gale followed your eyes over to his right. “Ah, yes I believe he’s been pensively staring at the water for a majority of the evening.”

“And you didn’t check on him?”

“I did, but he insisted on being alone. Though I’m sure he would much rather welcome your company than that of a babbling wizard.” He nudged you with his elbow. “But after that, go indulge in the frivolities! They’re good for the heart. And mine will be lighter, to see you enjoying yourself.”

You surged forward and hugged him. He held you tightly while still clutching his goblet. When you pulled away you pointed at him. “You still need to teach me lanceboard.”

“And you need to stop enchanting the pieces to attack each other.”

“I will when it stops making you laugh.” You grinned at him, then waved and headed towards Wyll.

Just as Gale had said, Wyll was standing alone by the water’s edge, past the drying blankets that swayed subtly in the evening air.

“Thought I smelled you over here,” you said, sliding down some rocks and making him noticeably flinch.

“Oh gods, do I still stink?” He raised his arm to his nose and inhaled deeply. “I fear I’ll never be fully rid of it.”

“I was teasing,” you came to stand beside him and looked at the lake. “Though, Astarion seems to have a promising career ahead of himself as a perfumer if you need his help.”

Wyll chuckled. “Good to know that your new beau smells as good as he looks.”

“Indeed he does,” you smiled at him and he smiled back.

After a moment, Wyll sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice I was gone.”

“It’s no party without the Blade of Frontiers.”

“Really? I’m honored.” He turned back to face the water. “In truth, I don’t feel in a festive mood. And I didn’t want to cast a grey cloud over the night.”

“What? Why?” It concerned you deeply that one of your beloved companions was feeling down and you hadn’t even noticed. “What brought this on?”

“I’m a devil,” Wyll scowled. “I love the people from the Grove, but I unsettle them deep down. As I seem to unsettle everyone nowadays. You don’t want a devil at your party.”

You were surprised he felt that way. Mizora had so kindly gifted him his devilish features not long after Karlach officially joined your team well over a tenday ago, and the people of the Grove had long since come to terms with the Blade’s new horns. He was still Wyll; kind, fiercely protective, and above all, a good man. Those who couldn’t see that were fools.

“Claws will pop the balloons, you see,” Wyll teased, trying to lift the mood. “And the sweetcakes don’t taste half as good as raw eggs with this blasted forked tongue.”

You smiled sadly. “You don’t unsettle me. Or any of us. You know that.”

Wyll laughed humorlessly. “If only half the world had half the heart you do.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “But off with you. This is your day! Have a dance. Enjoy the music.”

“I suspect you’re the best dancer among us, Mr. Upper City. I’d love to dance with you sometime.”

Wyll laughed. “In truth, I always enjoyed a bit of pomp.”

“You seem like the type,” you laughed.

“I once beat the Baldurian record for the most sarabandes dances in a single evening. Much to the exhaustion of the good ladies and gentlemen of the Gate.”

“I can see it now,” you said wistfully.

“I had years of lessons, but honestly, it’s all about your partner.”

You took a step back and bowed dramatically. “Well I hope one of these evenings I might be a proper partner to stumble along with.”

Wyll smirked and bowed back to you. “One of these evenings,” he agreed. He inhaled deeply and turned back to the lake. “I just need some time alone beneath the stars, and I’ll be back to my old self. Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you said, walking forward and hugging him. He returned it and you squeezed him tightly.

“Okay,” he jokingly wheezed, “you have my word.”

“Good,” you pulled away. “You know where to find me,” you said, nodding your head in the direction of the party.

“I do,” Wyll nodded, looking at you fondly.

You turned and called down the beach, “Keep an eye on him, Withers!”

Withers simply stared at you from his spot by the boats.

You placed your hands on your hips. “One of these days I will crack him.”

Wyll laughed and waved you off. “Good luck with that.”

As you reemerged into the party, you saw Zaki run past you holding a tin of one of Astarion’s hair products. You snorted and looked around to make sure Astarion hadn’t seen.

No, he and Karlach were still busy downing goblets of wine and comparing them to each other.

“Bitter!” Astarion exclaimed, sticking out his tongue and pulling the goblet away from his mouth as if it had bitten him.

“Ah, you’ve got no taste, Astarion!” Karlach clapped him on the back. “This one’s better than the crap you served three cups ago.”

Astarion scoffed. “That was a classic vintage! Gods, it’s like you know nothing of fine wines.”

Karlach rolled her eyes. “Um, hello? Ten years in Avernus, mate. Didn’t get much drinking in while enslaved. Anything’s better than fire wine.”

“Tragic,” was all he said in response.

Suddenly Alfira was running over to you. “There you are!” The sweet scent of alcohol wafted off of her and she held a goblet in one hand and her teacher’s lute in the other. “Now, this might be the wine talking, but I’m feeling inspired. Thinking of writing my next song… about you.”

“Me?” you asked, placing your hands on your chest and batting your eyes. “I’m flattered.”

Alfira nodded. “But I need an angle. Any ideas?”

You thought for a moment, then made your voice pompous. “Let it be only as truthful as true poetry would permit.”

Alfira grinned and matched your tone, “But of course.” Then she became serious, “You achieved something beyond mere fact by helping all of us. That deserves to be remembered.” She shut her eyes for a moment, regaining her thoughts. “Buuuut, like I said, I need more wine before I truly start waxing poetic. Shall we play a song together now?”

“Great idea,” you grinned and started making your way to your tent to retrieve her lute.

As you passed by Astarion and Karlach, you watched Arabella reach into Astarion’s back pocket and come away with what looked like a few coins. She made eye contact with you and smirked before running off.

Karlach clearly saw this occur and held in a laugh. She looked past Astarion at you and you held a finger up to your mouth, signaling for her not to say anything. She snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Astarion asked.

“Nothing, you just look so stupid when you sniff wine like that.”

“I do not!” he protested. A beat. “Do I?”

You shook your head to yourself as you made it to your tent and grabbed the lute, walking with Alfira to the center of camp by the fire.

“What shall we play?” she asked.

“How about a classic?” you suggested, strumming the opening chords to “Bard Dance.”

Alfira grinned and nodded, immediately picking up the harmonies to the song while you took the melody. A sudden whistling caught your ear and you turned to see Volo performing the song with just as much gusto as the two of you. Had he been here the whole time?

Around you, the tieflings and your companions gathered around to hear you both play. They were stiff at first, merely listening and swaying to the familiar tune they’d no doubt heard many times. It wasn’t long before Danis bowed to Bex, who curtsied back, and the two began dancing merrily around the clearing.

With the ice broken, others coupled off to dance together, and others formed groups of three or four.

Shadowheart clapped along to the beat as Gale approached her and twirled her around happily. Karlach joined the fray, swinging her hips and waving her arms, but was careful not to hit anyone by mistake. Even Halsin joined in on the fun, awkwardly marching back and forth to the beat and encouraging shy tieflings to join him. Lae’zel and Astarion remained on the edge of the crowd, but you could see Lae’zel tapping her foot to the beat despite her best efforts to remain unaffected by the merriment.

As your fingers danced over the strings, you sent off a few minor illusions of fireworks to add some dazzle to the performance. Alfira added her own dancing lights to swirl around the audience.

You made eye contact with Astarion who was smirking at you. He made to raise his goblet to you in a toast, but his hand was empty. He looked around himself to see if he’d misplaced it, but movement farther back in camp let you know that it was Meli who had absconded with the cup. You smiled widely at Astarion and shrugged. He shrugged back, smiling and reaching for a new cup.

As the jovial song came to an end, the audience clapped and a few members approached you and Alfira, thanking you for the music and placing a few coins in your palms.

“Marvelous!”

“Such fun!”

“Alfira, you simply must play for us on our journey to the Gate!”

“No praise for the wizard, Volo?” Volo complained to an unhearing crowd. He humphed and returned to scribbling in a notebook closeby.

You and Alfira thanked everyone before you handed Alfira her lute back.

“Thank you for this,” you said. “I’d love to play again with you some time.”

Alfira took the instrument from you and nodded. “Oh, yes please!” She looked at her lute for a moment, then held it back out to you. “You should keep this one.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” you shook your head. “You’ve clearly had it for a long time. It must hold sentimental value to you. I don’t want you to part with it, I’ll have a new lute in no time.”

“Please,” Alfira insisted, still holding it out. “You play so beautifully.”

“Don’t go inflating her ego now,” Astarion said as he approached carrying two goblets of wine. “She’s annoying enough as it is.”

Behind him you saw Mirkon run by with a set of thieves' tools.

Astarion handed you one of the goblets of wine and smiled at you. “Hello, my sweet.”

“Hi,” you said shyly, still not used to his full attention but enjoying it nonetheless.

“Oh, stop teasing her,” Alfira said, rolling her eyes. “Tell her how well she did and make her take my lute.” She held it out again.

“While yes, she did play wonderfully-”

You looked at Astarion, a little shocked. You weren’t sure he’d ever complimented your music before.

“-she won’t be needing the lute.”

“See,” you said to Alfira before pausing for a moment and turning back to Astarion. “I won’t?”

He shook his head at you. “It’s taken care of already,” he said to Alfira.

She understood what he was saying and nodded. “How very kind of you,” she said, smiling. She reached forward and squeezed your hand. “I’ll make sure to see you again before we leave.”

You nodded and smiled as she left to rejoin Lakrissa at the wine table.

You turned to Astarion who looked smug. He turned to face you and grinned.

“What was that?” you asked.

“What was what, darling?”

“With Alfira. ‘It’s taken care of already.’ Did you steal me a lute or something?”

Astarion brought his goblet to his lips, ignoring you.

You gasped, your mouth open in faux horror. “You did not.”

“And if I did?”

“Where?”

He groaned. “Enough questions. Come enjoy a drink with me.”

He took your hand and led you over to his tent. When you arrived, he dropped your hand and held up his cup for you to clink with his. He took a sip.

“You know, I never pictured myself as a hero.”

You snorted. “Bold of you to assume that’s what you are.”

He rolled his eyes and continued. “Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…”

He held you in suspense as he took another drink of his wine.

When he pulled the cup away, he scowled. “I hate it. This is awful.”

“Aw,” you said, walking forward and wrapping your arms around his neck before pulling back a little. “Is this okay?” you asked softly.

He nodded.

You continued. “It’s not that bad. Think of all the goblins you killed.”

“True,” he agreed. “That was fun. Still, I would have liked more than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine.”

You raised your eyebrows. “I’m sorry, weren’t you the one who curated the wine?”

“Yes, but it’s not like I had much variety to choose from. Plus the tieflings didn’t bring anything to write home about.” He cocked his hip to the side, then nodded to you. “Go ahead, give it a taste.”

You stepped back and swirled the wine in the goblet that Astarion had provided for you. You took a tentative sip of the heavy, rich red. It was dry and sharp. To be honest, it tasted like most other reds you’d had before.

Astarion leaned forward a bit to gauge your reaction. “See what I mean? Awful.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Why didn’t you pick a better one, then?”

“Darling, this is the best they had.”

“How sad,” you sighed, clearly not as upset as he hoped you’d be.

He held up a hand and turned away from you. “None of you have any taste.”

“I’m sorry, my love,” you brushed some hair out of his face. “You’ll have to share once you find something you actually like. That way I’ll know what to look for.”

He sighed heavily. “What would be the point? You probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Rude,” you scoffed, “but fair.” You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?”

Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.”

You snorted. “How’d that go?”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.”

You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?”

Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading.”

You looked over to Karlach who was still dancing despite the fact that you and Alfira had finished your performance several minutes ago. She was trying to get Dammon and Zevlor to join her but both looked like they were searching for escape routes.

You laughed. “Shame there’s no music to accompany her,” you said, half joking.

“An excellent point, my dear.” He turned to bend down, wobbling, but catching himself. He started rifling through his possessions. “Odd,” he mumbled, “I swore it was here.”

“What are you looking for?” you asked.

“Hmm?” He was clearly lost in thought. “Oh nothing, darling. But, um, do me a favor and go somewhere else for a minute.” He waved you away without looking at you.

You smirked. “Okay,” you said, pretty sure he was looking for the lute he’d snatched for you. As you were about to step away, you paused, remembering the gang of young thieves actively stealing from Astarion. “I-” you shook your head. “Nevermind, keep looking.”

“I will, now go away.” He got up to look behind his tent.

You held in a laugh and made your way over to Shadowheart, who you just witnessed pour herself a fresh glass of wine.

“Hello,” you said, joining her at the refreshments table and popping a grape into your mouth. The crisp snap of the grape reminded you how hungry you were and you began to fill a plate with food.

“Hungry?” Shadowheart laughed.

“I haven’t eaten all day,” you said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “I missed bread and cheese this afternoon.”

“Uh huh,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “And whose fault was that?”

You slowed your chewing and slouched. “Mine.”

“Uh huh,” she took a swig of wine and smiled at you. “I think it’s safe to say you learned your lesson.”

You nodded as you took a large bite off a bread roll.

Shadowheart took a step back to rest against the table. She surveyed the party at large.

“Everyone seems to be in high spirits.”

You swallowed heavily and willed yourself not to choke, clearing your throat instead. “You put together a great party, Shadowheart.”

“I know,” she smiled. She shimmied closer to you and nodded over to Astarion’s tent where the man was still searching around, looking deeply confused. “I saw you and Astarion have been reunited.”

You lifted your gaze to Astarion’s tent, your expression melting into one of pure adoration. He was such an idiot. Even though you knew you were the cause of his ignorance. You shook your head, snapping out of it.

“Sorry again.”

Shadowheart blew out a puff of air. “Far be it from me to keep you two apart any longer. Besides,” she nudged you playfully, “blood must still be running hot. After everything.”

This time you did choke. Shadowheart’s eyes widened and she smacked you on the back.

“I’m fine!” you insisted. You cleared your throat and took a sip of wine.

Shadowheart laughed. “It’s fun getting you flustered.”

“I’m sure Astarion would say the same,” you agreed.

She sighed happily next to you and returned to looking into the party.

“You know who I never thought I’d find myself caring for?”

You stuffed your mouth with a hunk of cheese on a cracker to the point where you could barely get out the word, “Me?”

Shadowheart looked at you and laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I mean, desperate people… like these refugees. Never gave them much of a thought. Certainly not this bunch from the Grove. Yet we came through for them. We saved their lives. Odd.”

You nudged her with your shoulder. “I hate to say it Shadowheart, but you’re a good person. Though given your sentimentality, it sounds like the wine is talking,” you teased.

“It’s not talking enough for my liking.” She turned and grabbed the bottle you’d seen her pouring from moments ago. “Share a bottle with me?”

You looked at her skeptically. “Just a bottle? You’re not trying to poison me for disobeying you earlier, are you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just a bottle of poison free wine. You’ve suffered enough. Besides, I think you have other plans afterwards. Wouldn’t want to keep you.” She kicked her foot out towards Astarion’s tent which was now vacant, minus Doni slinking away with a hairbrush.

Before you could give her an answer, she was filling your goblet to the brim, despite the fact that you hadn’t finished the wine that was already there. She poured the rest into her own goblet, shaking the bottle to get out the last few drops.

“There,” she said. “Liquid courage.”

She tapped the brim of her goblet against yours and took a long sip. You joined her. Mixing the two wines hadn’t been a bad idea after all. There was a pleasant fruity aftertaste that you enjoyed. You went back in for another sip.

She watched you as you drank. “Do try to get some rest tonight if you can. Tomorrow’s another day.”

“Yes, mom.”

She smacked your arm. “How dare you! I’m nobody’s mother.” She took another swig of her wine just as Lae’zel approached with her greatsword.

“Are you aware that the child thieves are taking our belongings from camp?”

Shadowheart choked a little. “Excuse me?” She patted herself down and was relieved when her hand made contact with the artifact still on her person. She didn’t dare pull it out in front of everyone and instead looked at you.

“Oh, that,” you said smiling. “I told them they could.”

“And why would you tell them that?” Lae’zel narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t worry,” you sat up straighter. “I told them they could only take from Astarion.”

Shadowheart snorted. “What?”

“Yeah, I thought it would be funny if the rogue got robbed by a bunch of kids.”

“Chk,” Lae’zel scoffed. “He is failing miserably at what he claims to be very good at.” She eased her stance and loosened her grip on her greatsword.

You laughed. “I think it’s partially Karlach’s fault. She suggested they both get drunk.”

“That’ll do it,” Shadowheart nodded, taking another sip of wine.

“Hang on, Lae’zel, were you planning on attacking the kids?” You pointed at her sword.

Lae’zel eyed the weapon, then looked at you. “All children should know how to defend themselves from enemy attacks. I had already killed two of my cousins by the time I was their age.”

You nodded slowly. “Killing isn’t as much of a priority when you’re a kid here.”

“You make that blatantly obvious everyday with your oafish battle stance and shoddy swordsmanship.”

You scoffed and Shadowheart laughed. “I’m a lot better at fighting now, thanks,” you smiled at her, not actually offended. You knew she’d been raised on an entirely different plane, and who were you to judge their customs? At this point in your adventure, you knew not to take her harsh words personally. Even though she was usually right.

Lae’zel looked you up and down. “Perhaps so. I have seen the kith’raki tear a screaming neogi’s legs from its belly to fashion into blades.”

“Ew,” Shadowheart scowled.

Lae’zel kept her eyes trained on you. “Yet, they could not match your nerve at the goblin camp. It was enough to drive me to madness.”

“Oh,” you said, a bit taken aback. “Thanks?”

“I smell their blood on you still. I smell your sweat.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh gods, I thought I washed that all off-”

Shadowheart set a hand on your shoulder and shook her head. You turned your focus back on Lae’zel.

“I meant to taste that sweat. Pity for us you’ve already promised your body to Astarion.” She crossed her arms, annoyed.

“Ah,” you nodded, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Lae’zel, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

“Chk,” Laezel rolled her eyes. “It is your loss. Come morning you will wonder. You will wonder how my lips might have tasted. How my fingers on your skin might have felt.”

You looked down at the ground, feeling guilty for not picking up on her intentions sooner. Shadowheart laid a comforting hand on your back.

“Enough, Lae’zel,” she said. “She was bound to make a choice sooner or later. Let’s respect her decision.”

“And what a foolish decision it was. Astarion can’t even handle a few children. I would skewer them the moment they touched one of my belongings.” She thrusted her greatsword forward as if to demonstrate.

You swallowed. “Then let’s be glad they aren’t after your belongings.”

Lae’zel looked down her nose at you. “Let us hope that continues.”

“Hope what continues?” Astarion approached the three of you and grabbed another bottle of wine, not bothering to pour it into his goblet and instead opting to drink directly from the source.

You shook your head, feigning annoyance. “Are you following me?”

“Darling,” he purred, sidling up next to you, “didn’t I tell you last night that I wasn’t going to leave you alone anymore, especially after we-”

Lae’zel groaned loudly. “I’m going to keep a vigilant watch for any of those whelps stepping out of line.” She turned on her heel and headed back to her tent, but not before intimidating a few unfortunate tieflings milling about nearby.

Astarion took another swig from his bottle and winced, not enjoying the taste. “What’s with her? Apart from her usual Lae’zel…ness?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, sipping your own wine and feeling warmth spread through your chest.

Shadowheart leaned over to look at the vampire. “Enjoying yourself, Astarion?”

Astarion did a double take, apparently having not noticed her when he first walked up. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you protectively.

“Ooohh no,” he said, “you’re not sending me out on another long errand to keep me away from her.” He sounded whiney, likely from the buzz he was still nursing with the wine.

You and Shadowheart laughed.

“It’s okay, dearest,” you teased, poking his nose. “We’ve made peace with Shadowheart.”

Astarion looked from you to Shadowheart skeptically. “No more errands?”

Shadowheart smirked. “Don’t dally again and we won’t have to find out, will we?”

That answer seemed to satisfy Astarion, who pulled away from you and continued to drink from his bottle. “I suppose that’s fair. But to answer your question, yes, surprisingly I’m having a delightful time.”

You scrunched your nose. “What happened to hating all the attention and the bad wine?”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Must you always question the details, darling?”

You laughed. “Yes, evidently I must.”

Astarion waved his hand in the air, ignoring your answer and continuing to address Shadowheart. “It’s been centuries since I’ve been able to really let loose at a soiree such as this without being told what to do or hunting for something.” He wrapped you in his arms again. “Not when I already have my prey for the evening right here.”

Your eyes widened at Shadowheart and you avoided eye contact with her, flustered.

“Astarion,” you muttered as he kissed your shoulder from behind.

Surprisingly, when you looked back at her, Shadowheart had a small smile on her face.

She addressed you when she spoke. “Seems like you’ve really captured this one under your spell.” She nodded her head towards Astarion who had his nose pressed against your neck.

He pulled back and looked shocked. “Is that what this is? Have you cursed me? Vile witch!” He smiled at you like a dope. He snapped his fingers at Shadowheart. “Remove this curse, cleric!”

Shadowheart grabbed his hand and set it back at his side. “What you’re not going to do is snap at me as if I were a dog.” She looked at you. “Who knew liquor would make him even more insufferable?”

“We should have accounted for this,” you agreed.

“I am right here,” Astarion pouted.

You reached for one of his hands wrapped around you and squeezed it. “We know, dummy.”

His slightly unfocused eyes went gooey. He looked at Shadowheart. “You know, Shadowheart, we were each others’ firsts.”

You went rigid under his touch and Shadowheart inhaled her wine by accident, coughing briefly.

“That can’t be true,” she said looking between the two of you.

“Astarion,” you elbowed him.

Astarion scowled. “Oh, perish the thought, she was the first thinking creature I ever drank from.”

Shadowheart nodded slowly. “Congratulations?” She looked at you. “You didn’t drink… his blood too, did you?”

You shook your head and Astarion laughed.

“No dear, I took her virginity.”

You elbowed Astarion with a good amount of force.

“I will kill you,” you muttered exasperatedly.

“You will not,” he wheezed.

“I will not,” you sighed, looking up at Shadowheart, whose eyes had gone wide.

Her expression morphed from one of shock to one of anger. She stood and walked over to Astarion. Her hand glowed with the makings of a guiding bolt. You stood quickly and stepped in front of Astarion, shielding him.

“Shadowheart!” you exclaimed. “It’s alright!”

“He’s a vampiric freak,” she said loudly, drawing the attention of a few party goers. “He’s using you for your blood and your innocence!”

Astarion scoffed and stood, stepping to the side, rendering your body shield useless.

“How dare you,” he said, stomping his foot. “While, yes, that does sound like me, and was my intention originally,” Shadowheart raised her glowing hand and you held up your arms to stop her, “I did not make passionate love to her for no reason!”

You brought your hands to your face and ran them down your features slowly. This was mortifying.

“Can we keep it down?” you asked quietly.

Shadowheart rolled her eyes and dropped the prepped guiding bolt. She crossed her arms and looked at Astarion expectantly. “And what was the reason?”

He groaned dramatically. “Gods, I only brought it up as a joke for a laugh, do we have to keep it up?”

“Astarion,” both you and Shadowheart warned.

“Fine,” he avoided looking at you. “I like her, alright? More than like her, she’s- well, I don’t know what she is.” He took your hand in both of his own. “But isn’t it nice not to know?”

You looked at each other for a moment, his face soft, but a little concerned. You smiled and brought the back of his hand to your mouth for a kiss.

“So you didn’t bed her for the sake of gaining power from her virginity or something?”

That snapped Astarion out of his focus on you. “What? No, of course not! I’m a spawn anyway, so even if I wanted to I couldn’t.” He smiled at you. “But I didn’t want to!” He added quickly.

“Nice save,” you teased, ruffling his hair, then thinking better of it and moving it back into place. “Let’s keep our sex lives to ourselves from now on, okay?”

“Gods below, if I’d known she’d react like that-” Astarion looked up at Shadowheart who was crossing her arms and looking at him as if daring him to finish the sentence. He cleared his throat. “Noted.”

Shadowheart shook her head and rolled her eyes before perching on the refreshments table once again.

“If he hurts you, I’m going to kill him and not revive him. And I’ll pay Withers for him to stay dead.”

You patted her shoulder. “I know. Thank you.”

Astarion leaned over to look at her. “To be clear, I don’t plan on hurting her.”

Shadowheart changed the subject. “What were you looking for over there?” She nodded her head towards Astarion’s tent.

“Hmm?” he looked confused as to what she was referring to, then caught on and perched on the refreshment table again beside you. “Oh, just a little something for our beautiful bard here.” He started playing with the ends of your hair.

Shadowheart returned to her wine. “Couldn’t find it?”

“You know, it’s the strangest thing, I’ve been misplacing things all evening. Must be because of this delicious buzz I’ve got.” Astarion remembered the bottle he’d set down mere moments ago and returned to it.

Shadowheart lifted her eyebrows at you over her goblet. “Strange,” she said with an air of “We know exactly what’s happening and Astarion doesn't.”

You sighed, thinking he’d suffered enough at the hands of the kids. You took his free hand and hauled him up from the table.

He eyed you curiously but made sure to take the wine bottle up with him. “What is it, darling?”

“Come on,” you started leading him towards the temple.

“Oh ho,” he chuckled, stumbling a bit behind you, “wanted to get me alone, did you?” He sped up a little and gently bit the tip of your ear.

You gasped at the sensation and he pulled back to smirk at you. You blinked and shook your head. “Trust me, you’re not going to want to ravish me in there,” you nodded ahead to the temple.

Astarion caught you by the waist and lifted you a little, forcing you to stop moving. You yelped and he pulled you back so that he could whisper in your ear. “I can take you wherever I damn well please,” he growled.

You shivered as he set you back down. “As sexy as you are, my love, you’ll see what I mean momentarily.”

You grabbed his hand again and led him across the log bridge and into the temple.

Only to find it empty.

Your stomach dropped. Uh oh.

Astarion sighed. “I don’t see what the problem is, dear.”

He took advantage of his grip on your hand and pulled you back to him, then spun you around so that your back was against the damp stone wall of the now truly abandoned temple.

His knee came between your legs and he pinned your hands above your head.

You were too shocked to say anything.

He grinned, and leaned into your ear again. “I could take you right here and right now,” he bent to kiss your throat and moved his thigh to rub deliciously against you. When you let out a small noise of satisfaction, he pulled back to look at you, his voice low, “If that’s what you want.”

“Astarion,” you whined, closing your eyes and rolling your hips.

“Yes, sweet girl?” he smirked at the pathetic look on your face.

“Kids, Astarion,” you exhaled shakily as he adjusted his thigh to give you a better angle.

He paused. “Kids?” Then he chuckled. “I don’t think you need to worry about that, darling.”

You opened your eyes and gave him a confused look.

He gave you an equally confused look. “I’m dead,” he said slowly, “I don’t think it’s possible?” He raked his eyes over your body and rested on your stomach. “Is it?”

You gently whacked the side of his head. “No, idiot, I’m talking about the tiefling kids.”

“Oh!” Astarion let out a relieved laugh. “What about them? You didn’t lose our entire camp over a game of hopscotch, did you?”

You rolled your eyes and pushed off the wall, looking around for any sign of the kids. It was dark and you couldn’t make out a thing. You groaned loudly up at the ceiling and ran your hands down your face.

“I shouldn’t have trusted them…” you muttered.

“What did you do?” Astarion asked, sounding prematurely annoyed.

You ignored him and opted to march out of the temple and up the log back into camp.

A small laugh rang out from behind Gale’s vacant tent a ways off.

It sounded distinctly childish.

You huffed some hair out of your face and marched up to Volo who was near Wyll’s tent, still writing in his journal.

He lit up as you approached. “Aha! There you are! Come now, settle in. I do hope you have partaken in something bracing? This may well take up all night.”

You grabbed him by the arm. “No time.”

He protested as you dragged him towards the edge of camp. “I say! Unhand me! I’d hate to see your name slandered in an upcoming tale of your heroic escapades!”

You ignored him and spun him to face you. “How loud can you whistle?”

Volo puffed his chest proudly. “I’m surprised you have to ask, given my accompaniment to your performance earlier this evening.” He cleared his throat and stood up straighter. “As loud and as lively as necessary.”

“Great. I’m going to need one sharp, loud whistle on my say so.”

He leaned in conspiratorially. “Ah, drawing attention, are we? Giving a rousing speech? Toasting to your fine accomplishments?”

“Neither.” You cupped your hands up to your mouth. “MOL AND COMPANY.”

The party grew silent.

Volo tilted his head. “Oh. Interesting choice of audience. But, children are the future-”

You elbowed him. “Do it now.”

“Right.” As instructed, Volo lifted his fingers to his mouth and blew harshly, emitting a loud, high pitched whistle.

You saw heads turn to you, as well as the figures of the kids clamoring to look at you from behind Gale’s tent.

“TO ME,” you called firmly, making eye contact with Mol and motioning for her and the others to come to you.

As the children filed towards you, Volo shrunk back. “Do you need-”

“You can go.”

“Thank heavens. Good evening.” He tipped his hat to you, then scurried off back to his post by Wyll’s tent.

Mol came to a stop in front of you, crossing her arms and scowling at you. “What do you want now?”

You looked down at all eight of the hired thieves. Most avoided eye contact but Mol and Arabella, who smiled at you. You crossed your arms.

“It’s time to go over your spoils.”

“What, in front of him?” Meli asked, pointing behind you at Astarion, who lingered behind you looking rather in awe of what was occuring.

“It’s been long enough,” you confirmed. “You all did very well and I’m very pleased with your efforts.”

You watched as the kids grew smug and shared excited looks with each other.

Mattis spoke up. “What do we get in return for doing so good?”

“So well,” Astarion corrected.

“Didn’t ask you, did I mate?” Mattis snarled.

Astarion flashed his fangs in retaliation and Mattis shut his mouth.

You placed your hands on your hips. “Well let’s see what you gathered, huh? Then we can determine.”

Mol clicked her tongue. “I already told ya’s, we have her support when we get to the Gate.”

“Lame!” Zaki exclaimed. “We should get some kind of physical prize or something.”

Doni made a noise of agreement.

Mirkon shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s nice that we have the support of the hero of the Grove to help us.”

Arabella smirked. “I kind of want to see what else she has to offer.”

You did your best to stay stoic in front of them all, but you were too endeared by their curiosity and felt a smile tugging at your lips.

“Alright cretins,” you teased loudly, “show me where you buried the loot.”

Silfy giggled. “We didn’t bury it, silly!”

“Silfy,” Mattis hissed.

She grew quiet. “Sorry.”

“Be nice,” you warned, resting your hands on your hips. You took a deep breath, thinking about how to proceed. “Alright, first one to show me where you hid the loot gets their prize first.”

“Prize?!” Zaki gasped and Meli was already running across camp.

The other seven raced off after him.

You sighed fondly, choosing to walk after them at a leisurely pace.

Astarion caught up and strolled beside you. “Am I to understand that you had the urchins steal my belongings this evening?”

You clasped your hands behind your back and looked straight ahead. “Perhaps.”

Astarion chuckled. “I’d kill you if I didn’t desperately want to kiss you right now. Seeing your command over those children was really something.”

You cleared your throat. “Later. We need to get your stuff back first.”

He nodded, his brows furrowing. “You seem to like kids. Not just those brats.”

“I do,” you smiled. “They can be the best audience. Plus they’re hilarious in their own ways without even trying most of the time.”

Astarion nodded. “A collective of child criminals is rather funny from an objective point of view.”

“They’re pretty good, too,” you bumped his hip. “Got past our master rogue all evening.”

Astarion tsked. “I blame the wine, darling.”

“I think you’re getting sloppy.”

“Would you STOP FLIRTING and GET OVER HERE?” Mattis yelled from the boats near Withers.

Arabella leaned against the boat closest to the living corpse. “Bone Man here said we could hide our stuff in the boats.”

“Withers!” you exclaimed with no actual anger in the cry.

“I did no such thing,” he denied, as stoic as ever.

“Uh huh,” you said, then leaned in conspiratorially to the kids. “He hides our stuff all the time.”

The kids snickered, looking from you to Withers.

“I do not,” he said, his tone holding the same inflection as always. “I hast no need of thine earthly possessions.”

You clicked your tongue. “And yet you require compensation from us whenever we need something from you. Where’s the money going, Withers?”

Silfy giggled.

Withers didn’t budge.

You turned back to the kids. “He absolutely hides our stuff.”

They snickered again.

You moved closer to the boat to peer inside. Doni stepped in front of you, blocking your view.

“Alright, alright,” you laughed, taking a step back, “who wants to show me what they took first.”

“So you really are going to reward them for this behavior?” Astarion crossed his arms and you ignored him.

“I got here first,” Meli said, stepping forward with his hands behind his back, “just so we’re clear.”

“You did not,” Zaki protested, “Doni got here before any of us.”

“Doni doesn’t count! He’s the best sneak of all of us!”

“He does count and that’s why he won!”

“Quiet, you two,” Mol said with a bit of an edge to her tone. “Doni did win fair and square.”

“Told you!” Zaki stuck out his tongue.

Meli rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He stepped forward and addressed you. “May I present…” he pulled his hands out from behind his back, revealing Astarion’s wine goblet from earlier.

“You little whelp,” Astarion hissed but you held up a hand to silence him.

Meli smirked at the vampire. “You’ll notice,” he tipped the goblet forward so you could look inside, “not a drop wasted.”

Sure enough, the goblet still contained a hefty portion of deep red liquid.

You applauded his effort and a few of the other kids joined in. “Well done, Meli. But, uh, you didn’t drink any, did you?”

Meli scowled. “Yuck, no thanks. I don’t know why adults like this stuff.”

Astarion bent forward. “I’ll be taking that,” he swiped the goblet back, “thank you.” He took a long, deep sip, then wiped a drop that rolled down the side of his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Who’s next?” you asked.

Silfy reached into the boat and pulled out a small brooch, covered in rubies and emeralds. “I got this from his tent.”

You got down on your knees in front of her again. “Oh Silfy!” you said, in awe of the craftsmanship. “This is lovely! Good job.” You turned to show Astarion.

He looked uninterested. “That was my mother’s.”

You stiffened briefly, then relaxed. “No, it wasn’t.”

He snorted. “Of course it wasn’t. I swiped it off some dead-” You made a face at him and nodded towards the kids, reminding him that young ears were listening, “-teddy… bear?”

“People die,” Mattis said flatly. “We’re not idiots.”

“I’m missing a gods damn eye,” Mol pointed to the bandage around her head.

You sighed. “I don’t know why I’m even trying, you guys are way too smart.” You turned and handed the brooch back to Astarion who pocketed it without question.

“The smartest,” Mol grinned, looking around at the other seven.

Mirkon stepped forward. “Me next!” he reached into the boat and pulled something out, concealing it behind his back. He looked very pleased with himself when he revealed a set of thieves' tools.

Astarion laughed once, humorlessly. “I have a million of those.”

Mirkon smirked. “Yes, but only one on your person.”

Astarion’s face fell and he patted himself down. His mouth raised into the smallest smile. “Not bad.”

Mirkon tried to look cool, but he burst into a grin and stepped back to rejoin the others. You handed the tools to Astarion who hid them on his person once again and took another sip of his wine.

Zaki reached into the boat. “Here’s what I got.” He held out an unmarked tin but one that you recognized as one of Astarion’s beloved hair products.

Astarion spat a bit of his wine. “Give that here,” he held out his hand and Zaki clutched the tin closer to his chest.

“Why should I?”

“Um, Zaki?” You made eye contact with him and shook your head.

Zaki sighed and handed it over to Astarion reluctantly. “Tasted terrible anyway.”

You laughed and Astarion sputtered. “This is NOT to be ingested, you twerp.”

“Weirdo man!” Zaki exclaimed in response.

“Oof,” you turned to Astarion, “that’s gotta hurt.”

The kids laughed. Astarion narrowed his eyes.

He examined the contents of the tin to see how much was left. When he saw that not much had been sacrificed, he sighed in relief. “This is a fine hair product from a particular salon in the Upper City that I was able to snatch while on the road. I only have the one container, if you must know.”

You turned back to Zaki. “Well done,” you clapped for him. “It’s like you stole his baby.”

Zaki blushed and smiled before Doni stepped forward.

He made a small noise and held out a hairbrush.

Astarion gasped and snatched it from Doni quickly. “This was actually on my person during the Nautiloid crash.” He held it close to his chest. “I had it hidden away, how’d you find it?”

Doni responded with another unintelligible noise.

Astarion looked at the other kids.

Arabella shrugged. “We try not to question his methods.”

You patted Doni’s arm. “Great job, Doni.”

He smiled and Arabella took his place.

She held out a small coin purse. “Tah dah!”

Astarion bent forward to examine it closer. “Sorry darling, that’s not mine.”

Arabella smiled. “I know.” She loosened the string to the purse and emptied the contents into her hand. A substantial amount of coins fell into her palm. “But these are.”

Astarion gasped and felt around his person again. You and Mol laughed at the look on his face. “Har har, I’d like those back now, please.”

Arabella handed the coins back a little too eagerly.

Astarion rolled his eyes. “All of it.”

Arabella’s shoulders slumped and she reached into the pocket of her skirt, handing him another handful of gold.

“Work on your poker face, darling.”

Arabella pursed her lips but nodded.

“Mattis,” Mol said, motioning for him to step forward.

Mattis nodded and looked between you and Astarion with a smirk.

He extended his arms, revealing a dagger in each hand. “Whoa,” you said cautiously, motioning for the other kids to step away.

Astarion laughed. “Be careful with those, kid.” He knelt next to you, looking Mattis in the eye. He elbowed the tiefling gently in the ribs, but it was enough to shock him into loosening his grip. Astarion caught one of the daggers and expertly grabbed the other one by the hilt and yanked it from Mattis’ hand.

Before Mattis could even register what happened, Astarion was back on his feet, sheathing the daggers through his belt.

You looked at him with a shocked expression. He raised an eyebrow.

“What? Oh please, I didn’t hurt the child, and now he’s no longer armed. You’re welcome.”

You turned to Mattis. “You okay, Mattis?”

Mattis rubbed his chest and nodded. He looked up at Astarion in awe. “You have got to teach me that.”

The other kids agreed and crowded the vampire.

He laughed uncomfortably. “There are… so many of you.” He looked to you for help.

“Alright guys, let’s give floofy hair some space.”

“Floofy?” Astarion brought a hand up to his hair as the kids dispersed.

Mol stretched her arms over her head. “Best for last, I suppose.”

She went to reach into the boat for what you had to assume was the lute Astarion had hidden away for you. What she pulled out made you audibly gasp.

You’d expected something tattered, nothing special. Something plucked from the road by someone who didn’t understand the intricacies and nuances of musical instruments, but you knew you’d be content to make due with it because someone you deeply cared for had taken the time to pick it up and take it home to you.

Instead Mol presented you with a lute that looked like it hadn’t even been played yet. It was crafted from rosewood, giving it a pinkish hue and its surface shined as if it were just polished. Delicate roses were carved into the face and the strings were coiled tightly along the neck.

“Oh,” you breathed out.

Mol raised an eyebrow. “Okay there, hero?”

You shook your head to break the spell. “I- yes.”

Mol turned to Astarion. “And what does this one mean to you? You had it stowed away so carefully with all those pillows and rags. Must be pretty special.”

Astarion cleared his throat. “It’s um… a gift.”

Mirkon giggled. “For who?”

Arabella crossed her arms. “It’s a lute. Clearly it’s for the bard.” She gestured to you with a nod of her head.

Mattis blew out an unimpressed breath. “I saw her already carrying one around the Grove. Some gift.”

“So what?” Mirkon argued. “I think it’s nice.”

“So do I,” you confirmed, looking at Astarion, who caught your eye then turned away sheepishly. You turned back to the kids. “Want to know something funny?”

The kids looked intrigued and nodded, a few of them giving “yeah’s.”

You leaned in to whisper loudly and placed a hand next to your mouth as if telling a secret. “He broke my other lute,” you pointed your thumb over your shoulder at Astarion.

He scoffed. “I did not!”

You tilted your head at him disapprovingly. “It’s your fault it broke.”

“I-” he tried to dispute you, but came up short and shut his mouth.

Mol laughed. “No wonder she wanted us to swipe your stuff. Although, seems kinda pointless now.” She handed you the lute.

It was a comfortable weight in your hands and you tested the sound. It would need a bit of tuning, but it was good enough for you to cast a minor illusion of fireworks around the kids, who all looked up in awe. You flipped the face of it up towards you and ran your fingers over one of the rose etchings.

You turned to Astarion who was avoiding eye contact by drawing shapes in the dirt with the tip of his shoe. “Where did you find this?”

He looked at you and perked up, gaining an air of confidence that you usually saw when he was showing off in battle. “Found it on the Risen Road. Some poor soul perished with it hidden away in their belongings under a bunch of useless junk.” He examined his nails, feigning disinterest. “It was from the same horde where I found my hair product. I suspect some Upper City patriar accidentally stumbled into a pack of hungry gnolls on their way back to Baldur’s Gate. One can only imagine why they were all the way out here. But their loss was our gain.” He laughed airily.

You stood and held your breath. “You’ve held onto this for that long?”

Astarion deflated a little, caught. “I… may have been saving it for a special occasion.” He saw you move towards him. “Don’t be weird about this,” he warned, holding up a finger. “If you really annoyed me I was planning to give it to you and then destroy it. The look on your face would have been priceless.” He laughed again.

You ignored his deflection and took one of his hands in your own. “You’ve had this since before we-” you paused. “Since before last night.”

Astarion smiled softly. “I told you I liked you.” He looked away again when he asked, “But you like it?”

You bent forward to kiss his cheek. “It’s gorgeous. I love it. Thank you.”

“Gross,” Mattis moaned. “Can we just get our prizes now?”

You turned away from Astarion to face the kids again. “Right.” You clapped your hands together. “GALE!” You shouted, not bothering to turn your body in his direction, knowing he’d hear you anyway.

Not even a second later, he misty stepped beside you. “Yes?” he asked. “How can I help?”

“Gale,” you said, your tone implying that you needed him to play along, “the kids did a great job of stealing from Astarion tonight.”

Gale furrowed his brow in confusion, but sensed the kind of answer you wanted. “Oh, that is most excellent news.”

You nodded and placed your hands on your hips. “I think we need to discuss their reward.”

“Absolutely,” Gale agreed. He motioned over to a patch of grass a little ways away, “Shall we?”

“Be right back,” you said.

As you and Gale walked, you heard the kids talking to Astarion.

“So why do you have fangs? You some kind of demon?”

“My father was a bat.”

“Cool, can you fly?”

“No.”

Gale spun on his heel to face you. “So,” he started, “what’s going on?”

“Fair question. I wanted the kids to rob Astarion.”

“Sure,” Gale nodded. “Why?”

You shrugged. “Thought it would be funny. Didn’t think that far ahead.”

Gale nodded again. “Let me guess, you didn’t want them to actually keep the loot and now you need to satiate their desire for spoils of some kind.”

“You got it,” you confirmed.

He held a finger to his chin, lost in thought for a moment. “Alright. Play along.”

“Can do,” you said and followed after Gale back towards the kids.

“Why would I need echolocation if I’m not blind?” Astarion asked, exasperated.

“I don’t know!” Zaki shouted in the same tone. “You’re the one who’s half bat!”

“Tell me you can screech at least?” Meli asked.

Gale cleared his throat and the kids turned to face you.

“I don’t see no prizes,” Mol said, crossing her arms.

“An astute observation, Mol,” Gale agreed. “That’s because I’m going to summon your prizes from the Astral Plane.” Gale raised his eyebrows at you, talking out of his ass.

“Ooohhh,” you gushed, making what he said seem really impressive.

“You’ve been to the Astral Plane?” Mirkon asked excitedly.

“Of course,” Gale lied.

Arabella cut in. “How do we know you’ve actually been?”

Gale chuckled. “How do you think we met our Githyanki friend?” He pointed to Lae’zel over his shoulder who was in the process of skewering watermelons with her greatsword as a few others watched.

The kids looked back at Gale, seeming to accept his reasoning.

Astarion rolled his eyes.

Gale rubbed his hands together, his fingers sparking with the purple glow of the weave. Something you suspected he was doing to try to further impress and convince the children.

“Who’s first?” he asked.

Meli was about to step forward, but Arabella stopped him.

“Doni got here first, he gets his prize first.”

Meli groaned. “I’m next, then.”

Gale smiled at the boy before him. “Well Doni, it’s Githyanki tradition that their most skilled warriors receive Crowns of Valor.”

You placed a hand on your heart, further playing along. “Gale! You can’t mean-”

“Oh, that’s right,” Gale nodded. “These young, intrepid adventurers deserve the highest of honors.”

You looked at the kids and raised your eyebrows. “That’s amazing!”

The kids shared excited glances and giggles as Astarion leaned in to you.

“To be clear,” he whispered, “Crowns of Valor don’t exist, right?”

“Correct,” you said through an unmoving smile.

“And I knew that,” Astarion said unconvincingly.

Gale spun his hands through the air, the purple glow of the weave glowing brighter and brighter until a small, Doni sized crown appeared in Gale’s hands. It was of simple construction, made of tin with pointed peaks at the top, like the paper crowns you would make as a child. Then, Gale moved his hands some more and the crown molded itself into something similar to Lae’zel’s armor that you’d first met her in; polished silver with delicately raised patterns throughout, adorned with shining red jewels.

“Whoa,” you said, genuinely impressed.

Gale smirked and lifted the crown above Doni’s head. “I now bestow unto you the Githyanki Crown of Valor. Well done, lad.” He placed the crown on Doni’s head, who smiled widely and stepped back for the other kids to observe.

They ooh’d and ah’d, a few even reaching to touch it, but Doni brought his hands up to the crown to keep it on his head.

Meli excitedly jumped forward. “Me next!”

One by one, the kids stepped up to receive their incredibly real and not conjured on the spot Crowns of Valor from Gale.

“Thank you for the lute,” you said quietly to Astarion as the two of you watched the parade of children marching up to the wizard.

Astarion clicked his tongue. “I’m not sure you even deserve to keep it, given that you hired a bunch of children to steal it for you.”

You sighed loudly. “Just admit you were bested tonight and move on. I won’t think any less of you for it.”

He hummed in acknowledgement. “Don’t use this one as a club.”

“No promises,” you lifted the lute to mime hitting another imaginary bugbear.

When Mol received her crown, the last of the kids to do so, Gale stood.

“Oof, the knees,” he muttered before rubbing his hands together to convey that his work here was finished. “Well then! I believe everyone has been thoroughly rewarded for their hard work.” He looked at you and winked. You mouthed a thank you.

Mol took off her crown and inspected it. “Hypothetically, how much could a Githyanki Crown of Valor sell for?”

You and Gale gasped dramatically.

“Why would you want to do that?” you asked, scandalized.

Mol rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Just tell us how much coin we’d get.”

Gale thought for a moment. “Hypothetically, if it were to be appraised, maybe about-” You elbowed him. “-a lot. Despite the absolutely priceless nature of the objects, you’d probably get a lot of coin.” He sounded pained to be saying such things.

“Excellent.” Mol said, examining her crown and then placing it back on her head. “Now,” she said, placing a hand on her hip, “do you need anything else from us? Or can we go? There are drunk adults to swindle.”

“Charming,” Astarion said flatly.

You straightened. “Yes, you’ve all done an excellent job tonight and are free to go.”

As the kids were about to leave, you stepped in front of them, blocking their path.

“No more stealing tonight-” you said and a few of them groaned, “-but it’s fair game again when we see you next. Which will be in Baldur’s Gate when you’re members of a highly respected new guild.” You smiled at Mol who looked at you smugly and nodded.

“Damn right!” she said proudly.

The others buzzed with agreement and started dispersing after saying their goodbyes. You hugged Silfy, Arabella, and Mirkon, and waved to the others who promised they’d be careful on their journey to the city.

You stood back and watched them go, flanked on either side by Astarion and Gale.

Astarion examined his nails. “Those weren’t worth anything, were they?”

Gale shook his head. “Not unless transmuted tin suddenly gains a lot of value amongst merchants and traders. I’ve been gathering different alchemical items and ingredients all throughout our journey, and that tin that I used was actually from-”

“Ugh, stop talking,” Astarion interrupted. “I merely asked if they were worth anything in case I needed to nick one of them off one of the little roaches before they leave and we never see them again.”

“Astarion,” you whacked his arm lightly. “They’re just kids. And I’m sure we’ll see them again.”

“Whatever you say, darling,” he sighed.

“You could also just ask Gale to make you one if you want.”

“I’d be happy to-”

Astarion held up a hand. “And ruin this hair? I don’t think so.”

You looped your arm through his and watched as a few of the kids retreated into their makeshift headquarters for the evening, while a few others made a point of walking by Lae’zel’s tent first. It was clear they were trying to show off in front of her, but Lae’zel paid them no mind and focused instead on cleaning her greatsword of watermelon chunks. After a moment of them pacing back and forth in front of her, she leered at them and the kids quickly ran back to the temple, terrified she might stab them. Scratch and the owlbear cub chased after them.

You turned to Gale. “Thank you for coming to the rescue. I owe you one.”

Gale smirked. “Is it really a party if one isn’t rescuing their friend from the clutches of their own antics?”

Astarion snorted. “What kind of parties have you attended?”

“Well, I thank you for your quick thinking and skill with the weave.”

Gale puffed his chest. “I am rather excellent at magic, as I’ve said many times over. Though I fear what will happen once those miscreants try to pawn off those fraudulent crowns.”

You shrugged. “That’s a problem for future us.”

Astarion tsked. “Assuming they can catch us.”

You and Gale laughed.

“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” Gale agreed. “I’ll leave you two to your evening. Let me know if you find yourself in any more trouble.” He nodded his head to you. “Good night.”

“Good night Gale,” you smiled as he walked back towards the excitement of the party where Karlach and Rolan were partaking in a loud drinking contest.

Astarion pulled you closer to him and squeezed your hip. “I still can’t believe you did that. After everything I’ve done for you.”

You smiled at him. “Ah yes, thank you for deciding not to kill me every day since you’ve met me.”

He pulled you into a kiss. “You’re welcome,” he said, muffled against your mouth. Unsurprisingly, he tasted of wine.

You pulled away and inclined your head towards Withers, still standing stoically nearby.

Astarion rolled his eyes. “I’m not even entirely sure he’s paying attention half the time, what with his distant stare and lack of meaningful conversation.”

“He called you my ‘bosom companion’ earlier.”

“He did what?” Astarion looked past you at the skeleton who made no move to acknowledge either of you. “I’ve barely had any time with her bosom yet, thank you.”

When Withers didn’t respond, you laughed and bent down to get a better grasp on your new lute. Astarion joined you, picking up his recently returned items and turning to face you.

“Care to join me on a walk?” he asked.

You smirked. “This isn’t part of another plan to bed me, is it?”

Astarion laughed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He made his voice low and gravelly.

Your face went red. “Aren’t you drunk?” you asked, deflecting his advances as the two of you started making your way towards Astarion’s tent.

“Ah, ah,” Astarion tutted, “I was only ever tipsy. And to be honest, I believe the last of it burned off when the one person I stupidly trust most for some reason, betrayed my trust and stole my things.”

“We got them back!” you argued.

“Hmm,” Astarion hummed. “Perhaps we should break up.”

You gasped loudly. “How dare you!”

He smirked. “I suppose you’ll have to make it up to me.”

“Am I going to regret asking what you have in mind?”

“I can think of a few options,” he said as you reached his tent and he knelt to return his items to their proper places.

You yawned. “Oh yeah?”

Astarion rose back up and looked at you softly. “Tired, darling?”

You mentally surveyed how you were feeling. “I suppose I am.”

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist. “A side effect of playing hero for dozens of tieflings. Told you it wasn’t worth it.”

You rested your arms over his shoulders. “And it surely has nothing to do with my lack of sleep last night, does it?”

“I don’t know what you’re implying,” Astarion teased, kissing your forehead. “Go say your good nights.” He nodded towards the heart of the party where Karlach and Rolan were drunkenly singing an old dwarven drinking song.

You looked at him curiously. “What about you?”

“Trust me, my sweet, none of them are here to see me.” He tucked some hair behind your ear. “Even though I’m world-endingly beautiful.”

“I think you’ve mentioned that,” you teased.

“They should count themselves lucky they even caught a glimpse.”

“Alright.”

“I mean, look at me.”

“I got it,” you laughed and pulled away from him, lifting your new lute one last time. “Will I see you later?”

Astarion furrowed his brow. “Do you truly think so little of me?”

You smiled shyly. “I don’t know, I’m still new at all of this.”

His expression grew soft. “As am I. We’ll get the hang of it.” His voice became flamboyant again when he said, “We are the most impressive pair in Faerûn after all.” Then he laughed brightly.

You laughed and turned to make your way to your tent to drop off your lute. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I await on baited breath, my love.”

~~~~~

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unfortunately tumblr thought this piece was too long (fair) so I had to split it into two parts. The second part can be found here.

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wlwaerith · 1 year ago

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#**#cidolfus telamon #final fantasy xvi #ffxvi #ffxviedit #gamingedit #dailygaming #aethlyn sees #userserenedy #userterendelev #mutuals let me know if you'd like to be tagged in ffxvi things pls <3

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mintypsii · 6 months ago

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author x barista cafe au (sanji is competing against himself)

#WHY ARE THEY SO STUPID #ok so basically usopp is writing a story based on his own life and since he began frequenting the cafe a love interest (sanji) was introduc #and he lets sanji read it hoping he'll get the message (also cuz they both love stories) and it completely flies over his head #op #one piece #sanuso #usosan #usopp #sanji #black leg sanji #cafe au #comic #mintart #my art #i just love how oblivious sanji is in canon too #like you'd expect the hopeless romantic to notice when a girl likes him and then he just . doesnt IT'S SO FUNNY #poor osome lol (viola and pudding too cuz he didnt realize when they got a lil crush on him #not that i ship them with any of those characters but they DID like him canonically at some point and he DIDNT EVEN KNOW is he stupid (yea)#and usopp being so roundabout about his feelings and NOT DIRECT AT ALL. hello be normal please #he's just like me fr #bonus page is inspired by that wano scene where usopp eats sanji's soba and is like #it's so nice to eat ur food again sanji :D so glad u came back safe<3 #WHY IS HE SO CUTE......... IM GONNA CRY #ok im just yapping now sorry bye #also i made this au with my friend and we have a lil inside joke that the other barista exists and it's him LOL #i have doodles of that too

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seven-stars-in-his-palm · 2 months ago

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the thing i love about bill cipher is that even after i've learned all of this stuff about him, seen him at the most vulnerable he'll ever get, seen him at his most innocent, i still can't give a flying fuck about trying to justify his actions. yes he's traumatized, yes he was twisted into what we know today, and while it gives a semblance of context to why he did what he did, it doesn't matter. he still ruined ford's life. he still drove and baited multiple humans to suicide. he still tormented every human he saw as his ticket out of the consequences of his own actions. he still took delight in his actions. he was willing to commit genocide for fuck's sake!!! (freezing all of the humans into statues). trying to explain away what he did does not get rid of what he did, but it certainly puts it in perspective. you won't be catching me being a bill apologist any time soon <3

#gravity falls #bill cipher #the book of bill #pleaseeee dont kill me guys #also if anyone tries to twist this and apply it to ford i WILL be setting myself on fire #because like. i've seen many people hate on him because of what he did objectively #but the difference between ford and bill is that ford did not LIKE it. let me break down things ford has done @ stan that ppl dont like:#1: he was the favorite child hands down (not ford's fault. he was a kid. he was shoved into the role by his father)#2: considering leaving stan behind for west coast tec (which we dont even know was his intention. what if he wanted to bring stan with him?#what if he was going to ultimately turn the offer down? what if he went and still kept touch anyway? speaking as a guy who grew up #gifted in a poor neighborhood; college is your TICKET outta there. you'd do anything to do so--BACK ON TRACK)#3: didnt defend stan when he was being kicked out (he thought stan sabotaged his and his fams ticket out of poverty. of COURSE he's pissed!#also he was 17. of COURSE in the moment he wasnt going to take his scrawy ass and stand up to his 6'6 abusive ass of a father. would YOU?#4: told stan to take the journal (ford was on the brink of death and insanity. all he had left was STAN to trust. it also wasnt him saying #to have stan stay away from him forever--it was just to take the JOURNAL somewhere. he NEVER said he COULDNT come back!#do you REALLy think that FORD could have explained all that properly when he has beeen TORTURED FOR WEEKS ON END? I DIDNT THINK SO!#anyways. the point is that everything the fandom uses to villanize ford is in fact a result of circumstances outside of his control #and while you can argue that bill is the same; compare the damage they have done. consider how their trauma impacted them as people.#think about how bill took his trauma out on everyone around him. about how even now he still feels no remorse in that prison.#think about how ford tried to FIX his mistakes. think about how he is human; how he acted in spite of his misery #think about what that fucking triangle did to that six-fingered old man.#....okay! that was a lot. lets hope no one sees this!!

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jaggededges123 · 8 months ago

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a little bit of tridentariicest for @dmsr-art 🥰

“I can still eat you, like this, look—as many times as you want, baby.”

“Ianthe, not funny,” Corona wails, piteously, but she doesn’t even try to stop you as your bloodstained hands tug at her white trousers with the golden trim—you leave the royal purple jacket, for now. “You have his eyes, and you could have had mine!”

“Who cares about Babs,” you soothe, taking in the buttery-golden curls that appear as you pull her trousers and underwear off one leg over her boot, leaving it hanging as you settle between her thick, gorgeous thighs. “Don’t mention him, dear—you need to stay with me, and not as a myriad-long battery.”

You reach out with your fingers, which feel like they are buzzing with the energy of a thousand thanergic stars, and you touch her, sliding your fingers gently down her slit. She spreads her legs wider for you, obliging and sweet even as she cries. She’s wet.

Of course she’s wet, she’s her and you’re you. Even in her upset, there was really no other outcome.

“Sister,” she cries, and again your heart half-breaks because if only she was capable of understanding. You usually understand each other, when she is capable of it, but her brain is not on the same level as yours. This would be easier if it were. “I can’t believe you. We could have been—forever—”

“Shhhh,” you hush. “I need you, darling Corona. Don’t mention it again.”

And you dive in as she gives a pathetic “Is that even true?” that gets cut through with a moan, because she really cannot help it.

You know every inch of her juicy pussy, each out-of-the-way sensitive spot, and the motions she likes a partner to take with their tongue. You knew it first before anyone else, and you still know it best. No one can ever take that away from you—you will always know your older twin sister better than anyone else, love her more than anyone else, do what it takes to keep her more than anyone else.

As you lap at with her with your tongue, making circles around that flushed, pretty clit and pressing your nose into her pubic hair, you take two fingers soaked in his blood and press them inside her. She hiccups loudly, and her hand comes to grip at your limp pale strands of hair, which is more than encouraging. It’s working.

You crook your fingers and worry them along the front wall of her channel, and you take her clit to task with the point of your tongue. You consider, for a moment, adjusting the shape of that fleshy protrusion of your mouth moment by moment to show her how focused you are on her pleasure and how skillful a genius you are. It used to be a little hard, doing that—it wouldn’t be hard for you now, the marvel you are.

“Ianthe! Oh, I need you!” she shrieks, her hand gripping in your hair so hard that you can feel some of the follicles letting go—and immediately repairing themselves.

She comes too fast in the end, to make changing the shape of your tongue worth it—a slut for your mouth or your fingers or whatever else you use on her, that’s what she is. You know the moment she falls apart because you can thanergically sense her heartbeat stutter and then race, the cry of her every muscle. It makes you throb deep in your core, hotter than you’ve ever felt in your life.

Her purple-clothed chest starts heaving as she squeezes down on your fingers and trembles on your tongue, and you’re confident for a second that you’ve successfully distracted her from whatever silly romantic fantasies she’s concocted that mask the grim reality and terrible awesomeness of the Lyctoral process. Perhaps she understands now, in that dim, pretty head of hers, that if you were to take her then you wouldn’t have her anymore.

But then an even more hysterical sob breaks on her lips, not quite the sexy kind, and you know that she may never understand it.

You sigh.

#coffeetomb #tridentariicest #ianthe tridentarius #coronabeth tridentarius #thank you so much for prompting me 🥰 this one was so fun for me to use :3 #please also let me know if you'd like me to gift it to you on ao3 when i eventually archive it <3 either way is fine with me!

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lucienarcheron · 7 months ago

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Spirit Meets the Bones - XIII

Genre: Angst/Romance Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Please be mindful: some implied language may be found triggering.

shoutout to @abruisedmuse always for being my bby <33

Find it all here.

The two waited until the steps drew nearer before Eris said in a detached, cold voice. “I thought I told you I didn’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

“I — I —”

“We’ve been over this. You are not to be seen and not to be heard.”

“Son?”

Eris and Iris looked to find Beron standing before them, brow raised.

“Father.” Eris said calmly, removing his hand from Iris’s throat and then turning to face the High Lord, clasping his hands behind his back. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Iris wasn’t feigning the slight tremor in her hand as she rubbed delicately at her neck. Eris hadn’t gripped her hard, but the sudden movement had caught her off guard.

Her eyes flickered to reason number one to why things were still cautious between them.

Eris’s eyes shifted to her briefly before his eyes met his father’s and he quirked a brow, waiting.

“I was finishing up a meeting and heard you were around these parts.” the High Lord said slowly, his gaze snapping to Iris who slowly slid closer behind him, ever the cowering doll. “I didn’t expect to see Iris with you this late in the evening.”

Iris focused on her feet, on the solid feel of Eris beside her. It was always a game they needed to play around Beron but she still hated it. Hated how a part of her fear wasn’t a lie.

She focused on his hands clasped behind him, his signature stance, and watched the way his fingers fisted then flexed.

“I prefer to keep her close.” Eris said dryly. “It suits my needs.”

Beron snorted, and Iris felt his eyes slide to her as they always did whenever they seemed to be near each other. Her eyes stayed on Eris’s hands that clenched at his father’s snort.

Since that wretched dinner, Eris ensured they avoided his father as much as possible and Iris was all too happy to stay away from the only other male she hated as much as she hated her father.

“I’m sure it does suit your needs to have her nearby.” he almost purred and Iris worked to keep the disgust off her face. “Let’s hope this means I can expect a grandchild sometime in the near future.”

Iris flinched and it seemed to be the response Beron was waiting for. He laughed and Eris only spared her another slight glance over his shoulder then back at his father with a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I will enjoy trying until we do.” he replied and Iris kept her eyes on his hands, flexing once more.

Iris moved closer to Eris, her hands slowly sliding into his and his fingers immediately closed around hers. Beron kept talking, speaking in that nasty, oily tone that made the bile rise in her throat but she ignored him completely, focusing only on the feel of Eris’s fingers intertwined with hers. She focused on the feeling of his thumb caressing the back of her hand and letting her thumb rub into his palm.

Iris envisioned all the open wounds she could leave in the High Lord’s chest on a daily basis, the joy of watching him bleed out making a moment like this passable.

“Are you listening, Iris? Your father is coming to see you tomorrow morning.”

Iris’s head jolted up and her grip tightened on Eris’s hand, her eyes wide as Beron smirked at her.

“Why?” she breathed, and Eris squeezed her hand tightly.

“Why? To check on his precious daughter. Make sure we’re treating you well.” he said with a pointed look. “And I’m afraid this time, he won’t take no for an answer. Neither will I.”

Iris heard the threat in his words and knew Eris had as well – for they had been declining or altogether ignoring any request to visit from her father. Eris had only asked her once, the first time they received a request, if she’d like to see him. Iris had said no and her answer remained the same. Even when Beron had specifically told them to accommodate him, Eris always found a way around it. But it seemed that their avoidance was coming to an end, especially with the look Beron gave them.

The High Lord’s eyes examined Iris slowly and she fought the strong urge not to fidget before his eyes landed on his son once more. “You’ve done a decent job with her.”

Eris nodded tightly. “I do my job well, Father. No worries.”

Beron took one look at the two of them and let his gaze pierce into Iris, a cruel smile on his face.

“You’re doing much better, Iris. Quiet is the best way for a wife to be.” he added and brushed past them as Eris turned to keep Iris firmly behind him. “While her father is here, I’ll need you to survey the new structural plans for our southwest territory. We should give them some quality time together.”

“Yes, of course. I’m sure Iris would love that.” Eris said and again, briefly looked over his shoulder at her again. “Right, wife?”

Iris nodded mutely, her heart thundering in her chest because the idea of her father coming to see her for any other reason than to taunt and rip into her was laughable.

Beron surveyed them both again and seemingly approving of his daughter-in-law shrinking behind his son, he looked at Eris again.

“Shave your face. You look like a mongrel.” He scoffed at his son then waved them off and kept walking. Only when the High Lord had turned down the hall and ten minutes of silence had passed, did Eris slowly turn around to face his wife, his hand still holding hers.

Though she avoided his gaze, Iris felt how his eyes slowly scanned her and she let him, her throat bobbing. His free hand steadily went to her chin and he lifted it to meet his gaze. Amber eyes met hazel and Eris allowed himself one moment to feel the softness of her cheek beneath his touch, then let his fingers slide to her throat for another moment, his thumb resting on her pulse point as she looked at him. She looked at him, at the question he was asking, and nodded before he pulled back.

“I’m sorry for where my hand went,” he murmured. “What do you need me to say to make this moment easier?”

Iris swallowed and shook her head. He hadn’t hurt her at all and she knew why he did it. Let Beron believe what he wanted as long as he left them alone. She licked her lips. “He really thinks you’ve broken my spirit, doesn’t he?” she asked quietly.

“He firmly believes you’re a handful.” Eris replied and the corner of his mouth went up slightly. “Which isn’t wrong. You are very much a piece of work.”

Iris huffed out a shaky laugh and looked down, her eyes zeroing in on their linked hands. She shook her head again. “It still makes me sick that we haven’t been married for that long and he’s absolutely fine with you treating your wife like that.”

“He treats his own wife like that. It’s what he would expect.” Eris said tightly and Iris looked up at him. “But right now, it’s just you and me.”

“Just you and me.” she repeated. A heartbeat of silent understanding passed between the husband and wife, an understanding that seemed to run much deeper than either of them expected.

Eris didn’t let go of her hand and Iris didn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry.” he said again softly, and she shook her head.

“It’s his fault. It’s always their fault.” she said, a small frown forming on her lips.

Eris waited, watching her struggle with her thoughts, watching as her brow furrowed. Iris looked up at him then back down at their joined hands then back up at him.

“What is it?” he said, the question a caress but Iris shook her head, tension coming off her in waves.

“Can we go back to our room? I need a moment.” she asked quietly, and Eris frowned but nodded.

“Of course.”

And though she didn’t say a word as they walked back, her hand remained intertwined with his. He wasn’t sure what to say or how to make her feel better so Eris said nothing, content to hold her hand and run his thumb across it.

When they returned, she spared him a small, tired smile and silently slipped into the bathroom, sleeping clothes in her hand. Eris watched as the door closed, his hand twitching at his sides, and only when their designated guest of the night, Lyra, nudged his hand with her head did he realize how rigidly he’d been standing.

“She’s upset. I’m not sure what to do,” he mumbled to his hound who whined softly. “Go sit by the door. Maybe you can get her to smile.”

Eris watched his hound go to the door and sit obediently, wagging its tail in a way that matched his own anxiousness.

He distracted himself as he got ready for bed, his eyes drifting to the bathroom door, waiting for her to return. Eris felt her distress and it troubled him that he couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason. His father. Him. Her father. Him.

As he finally settled down in their bed, Iris stepped out, dressed in a silk cream-colored slip that reached her ankles, something he hadn’t seen her wear before, and if the situation had been any different, he would’ve been very interested in inspecting it more up close.

But she still wasn’t looking at him and even though she’d given Lyra a small smile and a pat, her expression had fallen too quickly for it to have mattered.

Eris watched her closely as Iris finally slipped into their bed silently and didn’t dare move as she sat next to him, closer than usual, her back against the headboard.

He waited.

Iris focused on feeling the smoothness of the sheets beneath her, on Lyra now shifting in the bed near her, knowing Eris was watching her but she still hesitated to speak. Lyra wrapped herself near her legs, nuzzling against Iris but it didn’t help ease the tightness in her body. After a moment of silence, Eris finally spoke.

“Was it me?” he asked her quietly and her eyes flickered up to his, his expression tense and Iris shook her head. “Then what is it?”

He had shifted to rest his back against the headboard also, close enough to read her every breath but far enough that he didn’t impose on her space.

Iris’s gaze drifted to the wall behind Eris and after a moment, she mumbled, “My father is coming.”

Understanding dawned on her husband’s face and his mouth went into a thin line. “It was bound to happen, unfortunately. We can only reject his request so many times.”

“His reason is a lie.” she choked out and Eris’s eyes hardened as she met his gaze. “He’s a liar and I know he isn’t looking for hugs.” Iris swallowed and her expression slipped. “I don’t want to be alone with him,” she whispered. “It hasn’t been that long but — but being away from him helped me forget about him for a while.”

Then Iris took a breath and hesitantly reached out into the space between them, her fingers gently touching his hand. “But it’s been long enough that I know his palm is itching for me. I know him. I know the way he thinks.” she continued and swallowed again. She looked up at Eris and her face burned knowing the pleading look in her eyes. “Do you — will you stay with me when he’s here? If — if it doesn’t cause you trouble?”

"How badly do you think this is going to go?" he asked her curiously and Iris knew he scented the shot of fear that pumped through her veins.

"Very badly."

Eris narrowed his eyes at her, and she felt him go unnaturally still. She watched his eyes as they watched her and could almost see his mind calculating. It only made her flush deeper, her embarrassment rising.

“Never mind — I shouldn’t have asked.” she quickly said and pulled her hand away from his. “You can’t risk it and I can handle my father. It’ll be fine —”

Eris gently but firmly grabbed her hand and slowly pulled her closer to him until there was only a breath of space between them. Iris looked up at him in surprise but he only met her gaze, unflinching.

If he moved a fraction, his lips would be on hers.

“You can always ask and my answer will always be yes.” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I told you. You are my wife. I do not take kindly to anyone speaking to you in a way that isn’t respectful. Let alone anyone trying to lay a hand on you.”

Iris tried not to shudder at the words. At the promise. “I don’t want you to get in trouble with your father if you don’t follow through on his request.”

“I know how to run my court. I need only ask and it will be done without me leaving your side.”

A heartbeat of silence passed then Iris swallowed.

“So...you’ll stay with me?” she breathed.

“I’ll be there.” he promised.

Iris’s shoulders sagged and she allowed herself a moment — just one moment to lean into him. To feel his solid strength beneath her. To remind herself that she wasn’t alone.

“Thank you.” she whispered and when she looked up at him again, her husband gave her a small smile. A smile seemingly reserved just for her.

“Wear something indecent to bed tomorrow and I’ll consider us even.”

Her lips twitched at his words, fighting back a smile. “This is still too modest for you?” she said quietly, her free hand feeling the material of her slip and Eris’s eyes flickered briefly to her fingers sliding on the silk before he met her gaze again. “It’s — it’s something new.”

“I like it. A lot.” he muttered quietly. “But any piece of clothing hiding your body from me is something I consider too modest.” he added all too softly, curling a strand of hair behind her ear.

Iris stared at him without flinching as they shared a breath, shivering slightly at the feel of his fingers, and the urge to kiss him slammed into her full force. All she needed to do was lean in and their lips would meet.

Eris hadn’t moved except to bring his free hand back to his side as the thoughts crashed into her, waiting — waiting to see what she would do and Iris wasn’t sure if she would be the one to handle it if she kissed him right now.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” Eris stated quietly. “Remember we are in our bedroom and I will move very quickly.”

Color warmed her cheeks. “Why would you assume I’m thinking about something that will lead down that road?”

“Because you’re looking at me the way I’m always looking at you.” he said and the corner of his mouth lifted as her flush deepened.

“What if I’m thinking about how I want to smother you with a pillow?”

“If you’re straddling me while doing it, I’ll take it.”

Iris let out a small laugh, finally breaking his gaze. “You’re so annoying.”

“If I didn’t know any better, wife, I’d say you are incredibly obsessed with me.” he said, his voice dropping an octave and Eris let his hand slide up then back down her bare arm, enjoying the sight of the small smile on her face. “It’s okay to admit it.”

“No.” she said with a playful shake of her head, willing herself not to blush as she felt his hand warming the skin of her arm. “You’re not really my type.”

“Is that so?” he said with a snort and let his hand slide back to hers, gently squeezing. “I’d say with how much you stare at me, you are simply infatuated.”

Iris hummed, fighting back another smile and failing. “I’m really only sticking around for the hounds.” she said and Eris put a hand over his heart.

“You wound me, little gazelle. And here I thought I had you head over heels for me.”

“Mmm, no,” she said with a small smile and slowly pulled away, not trusting herself to hold back from doing more. “I’m head over heels for the puppy sitting right here.”

“Not a puppy.” he corrected, his hand still curled around the ghost of her fingers as Lyra’s head shot up and the hound whined.

“A big puppy,” she confirmed and slid back, until she was safely on her side of the bed, her heart thundering and a pillow between them again. She tried not to let the slight disappointment in Eris’s expression shake her as she patted the pillow between them gently, “Lyra, come protect me. Your father has an inappropriate look in his eyes.”

Eris only watched his wife, eyes narrowed and he desperately tried not to smile as Iris watched him too, with Lyra obediently resting her body between them. His eyes flickered to the hound.

“Traitor.” he mumbled, then looked at his wife and gave an exaggerated sigh, his hand rubbing at his face. He wanted to do anything to keep her from pushing him away, anything to keep her somewhat distracted from her father’s stupid visit. So he added, “It’s because I look like a mongrel, isn’t it? My father seems to hate it.”

A light shade of pink blossomed on Iris’s cheeks as she looked at Eris then quickly averted her eyes. “If your father hates it, you must be doing something right.” she said airily and Eris quirked a brow.

“Is that so.” he said and a small smirk graced his face as Iris’s blush deepened. “Do you, perhaps, like this mongrel look, wife?”

“I don’t like anything about you.” she replied immediately and even Lyra huffed when Eris laughed.

“You’re such a beautiful liar.” he snickered and finally, slid himself to relax against his pillow, Lyra’s large body between them.

It was quiet for a few moments before Iris spoke again.

“I think it suits you.” she said quietly.

“I can tell. You’ve been undressing me with your eyes this whole week.”

“If you really want to be more dashing than Lucien though —”

“I beg your pardon —” he immediately protested, shooting up on his elbows.

“ — I think you should think about updating your hair.”

Eris blinked. “My hair.”

Iris slowly stroked Lyra, her eyes fully on the hound and avoiding Eris’s gaze, even though her heated cheeks gave away her thoughts.

Eris’s lips twitched. “Would you prefer me with shorter hair, wife?”

Iris bit the inside of her cheek, looking at him then looking away again. “Would you like your hair shorter?”

Eris shrugged, a hand running through his locks. “I haven’t really thought about it. I’m merely used to it at this length.” he said, his eyes watching her.

“You’ve had the same look for some time, haven’t you?” she said with as much of a nonchalant air as she could manage. “You’re a married male now. You should update something about yourself otherwise I’ll get bored very quickly.”

Eris’s smirk widened. “Ah. So that’s what this is about.”

Iris finally looked at him with a quirked brow. “What is it about?”

“You want to make sure my past dalliances don’t think they stand a chance now.” he said and Iris rolled her eyes. “Make sure they know I’m yours, hm?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what it is.” she deadpanned.

“You could leave a hickey and they’ll know for sure.” he said with a grin.

Iris sighed then cupped Lyra’s face. “Can you kick him for me? He’s being annoying.”

“Kick me and I’ll skip your next turn and let Sirius have two.” Eris warned, pointing one finger at the hound who whined in return.

Iris tutted and hugged Lyra closer, squinting at Eris. “So mean.”

“You’re the one who won’t give your husband a well-deserved hickey.”

“Bold of you to assume you deserve anything.”

Eris smirked at her and Iris didn’t like the look on his face one bit.

“If you lift your slip and show me some skin, I’ll let you cut my hair.”

Iris snorted. “Who said I wanted to touch your hair?”

“Oh wife, I know you want to touch me in many places.”

Iris pursed her lips, her flushed cheeks heating further but she refused to look away from him, refused to let him and his stupid smirk win. Sure, she wanted to touch him. In fact, lately, all she had been thinking about was touching him. But that would mean he’d get what he wanted. And well…Iris didn’t want to give him that just yet.

Without breaking eye contact, Iris slid her foot closer to him and Eris’s attention immediately zeroed in on the bare ankle as she slid her foot up his leg slowly, the slip riding up with it, showing much more of her soft skin than he was accustomed to.

“You couldn’t handle me touching you in all the places I want to.” she confessed softly and with a small coy smile, she slowly slid her foot back down his leg then immediately turned, giving him her back, shielding herself and Lyra with the covers.

Eris prided himself on many things but trying to avoid his scent changing around his wife was not one of them.

“You play so dirty.” he said miserably and Iris laughed softly.

She turned on her stomach, facing him again and watched Eris curiously. He tilted his face and watched her watch him, as they almost always ended up doing each night.

A beat of silence passed then —

“A question for a question.” he said, his voice low and Iris paused, color blooming on her cheeks.

“A question for a question.” she repeated quietly.

“What are you thinking about right now?” he asked, turning his body to face her, resting on his elbow.

She watched him, her gaze roaming his handsome face, dipping to his lips for a split second before meeting his eyes again. “I’m thinking…” she began and swallowed, her heart in her throat. “That the Eris I’ve been getting to know is one I don’t mind being around so much.”

She glanced down at his hand resting on Lyra, only inches away from hers then met his eyes once more. “I’m thinking that...even though I’m used to my father and I’ll take whatever he throws at me,” she whispered. “I feel a little braver knowing you’ll be there.”

Eris’s gaze hardened. “If you think I will allow your father to lay a hand on you, you must not have taken my word seriously.”

“I do.” she said softly, the corner of her mouth ticking up then down. “I just don’t think he will.”

“He won’t have a choice. He isn’t allowed in here.”

It was that tone that had Iris’s eyes glued to his face. The way he spoke left no room for discussion, the threat crystal clear. It was this tone that had her licking her lips before very, very quietly adding, “I’m also thinking that I would like to kiss you but I’m scared and it — it feels like too much.”

Eris’s brows lifted slightly, hesitation in his stare. “Why are you still scared, little gazelle?” he asked.

Iris bit her lip and fell silent for a moment, the thundering of her heart as steady and loud as his. She shook her head without answering and looked away as she asked, “What are you thinking about?”

Eris’s eyes seemed to be memorizing every inch of her face as he pondered her question.

“I’m thinking,” Eris began, his voice dropping an octave. “That I would really like to kiss you too but if I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.” he said simply and Iris’s heart began beating even more wildly in her chest. “I’m thinking about how I don’t think you’ve been kissed the way I want to kiss you and it excites me more than it should.”

Iris looked away, feeling heat pool low in her stomach. She glanced at Eris through her lashes, at the look in his eyes and softly asked, “How would you kiss me?”

“That’s something I’d have to show you because words...will fail me, Iris.” he said, the corner of his mouth ticking up then went down just as quickly. “But I don’t want you to be afraid of me. Of anything we would do together.”

Iris turned her body once more, to face him, Lyra resting on the pillow between them. Iris looked away from him and bit her lip, wanting to tell him — the real reason she was so terrified.

She met his gaze and found him watching her the way he always did — intensely, like she was a message written in a secret code he had to decipher; like he couldn’t look anywhere else, his attention undivided on her.

And it was because he looked at her like this. Like she carried his world in her palm. Like she was his salvation. Like she was important. She was petrified because he looked at her like she meant more and Iris wasn’t ready for how badly it was going to hurt when he eventually got tired of that mouth of hers. She shook her head once more.

“I’m not afraid of you.” she said quietly and gave him a small smile when he frowned but couldn’t bring herself to say more about it. “If I don’t give you a kiss, will you abandon me tomorrow?”

Eris narrowed his eyes at her then scoffed when he saw that she was teasing. “You could stab me in the balls and I’d still be there.”

Iris gave him a pointed look, her fingers flexing slightly and he squinted.

“Don’t even think about it, Iris.”

She laughed, feeling the weight of her wretched father’s visit ease off her chest slightly.

“Your heart just skipped a beat at the thought, didn't it, you feral little cat.” he said with a snort, but his lips were curved up as he spoke. Iris lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug.

“You’re the one that suggested it.” she said innocently. “It would be a great way to test all my new healing skills on you.”

Eris rolled his eyes. “Of course it would.” he said with another snort then gave her a sneaky look. “It also runs the risk of ruining any future pleasure you might have.”

It was Iris’s turn to roll her eyes, even as she flushed. “I can pleasure myself perfectly fine on my own, husband.”

“Can you now?”

“A girl has to know her own body before allowing others the privilege of being near it.” she said with pursed lips. “Wouldn’t want to be disappointed.”

Eris slowly smirked and Iris wanted to melt into the sheets as he said in a voice too sinful with such little space between them, “You and I both know there would be no disappointment between us on that end.”

Iris bit her lip as the scent in the room shifted slightly. She wasn’t sure who the culprit was between the two of them.

Iris tilted her head, watching him. “You’re so confident I’ll enjoy it.”

“I wouldn't rest until you did.”

And she knew what his tone meant. She could ask Lyra to move and find out exactly what he meant as soon as tonight. Her heart thundered in her chest and Eris watched her, his one brow quirked. All she had to do was say the word.

But she wasn’t ready for the fire in his veins to be unleashed on her. Iris wasn’t sure she could handle him following up on his many promises just yet.

Iris could only glance at him silently, feeling the heat blooming on her cheeks.

Eris chuckled at her silence and the sound danced across her skin as Iris watched him shift, getting comfortable on his side, facing her.

“Lyra, I’ll need you to protect me now. Your mother has the filthiest look in her eyes.”

Lyra whined playfully as Iris huffed in disbelief but only shook her head, a small smile on her face.

“You wish, you mongrel.” she mumbled but the words had no heat as Eris only smirked at her.

“Mongrel I may be, but I am still your husband.” he said and Iris stilled when he reached a hand to toy with a hair strand fanned out on her pillow. She watched as his fingers toyed with her hair, his gaze meeting hers and her heart caught in her throat. She may not be quite brave for something more right now but...

“A question for a question.” she whispered before she could stop herself and Eris’s fingers stilled.

“Yes?” his response barely above her own whisper.

She licked her lips and her flush deepened, knowing his eyes had cataloged the movement. She certainly could settle for being a little closer at least.

“If I ask Lyra to move...will you behave yourself?”

Her eyes didn’t leave Eris’s face as he froze and Iris had never craved to be a mind reader more than she did at this moment.

A heartbeat passed before the corner of his wicked mouth ticked up and he said in a low voice, “Lyra. Move to the end of the bed, please.”

Iris’s heart beat rapidly as the hound obediently moved, leaving only one pillow between them now. Willing herself not to flush further, Iris shifted an inch closer, her fingers tightening on the pillow.

“Is this okay?” she asked and Eris gave her a knowing smile, his eyes drinking in the sight of her — as if seeing her this up close was undoing him as it was her. And she had barely moved.

“You know I want you closer.”

“I know.”

“Then come closer.”

The request was nearly a purr and Iris felt herself near a cardiac arrest at the tone. Eris Vanserra was dangerous for many reasons but him speaking to her in that tone would be the most dangerous thing of all.

Iris toyed with the corner of the pillow, her gaze shifting from his face to the pillow then back to him. “What are you going to do if I move the pillow?” she whispered, watching him as he watched her every breath.

She watched him lick his lips — felt him hesitate for a moment, before very, very softly saying, “I’d like to hold you. If you’ll let me.”

Iris stilled once more, hearing the vulnerability in the statement. How much he seemed to need it. How much he wanted it.

How long had it been since he’d held someone?

How long had it been since someone had held her?

Iris swallowed, realizing just how much she wanted it as well. It was as if he was reading her mind, knowing how much she needed to be held tonight.

She bit her lip, her heartbeat erratic as she slowly moved the pillow between them to settle it behind her instead. Iris faced him and her eyes fell to the way his fingers twitched at his side; she couldn't help but chuckle.

“There.” she said quietly, settling on her side, closer to him than ever before. “No more pillow barricades.”

“No more pillow barricades.” he repeated then paused once more, a question in his eyes.

Iris hesitated just for a moment, and Eris only tilted his head, watching her and waiting. She swallowed and reminded herself that it was alright. That she was safe with him. That she wanted to be held. And he wanted to hold her.

Finally, she nodded and watched the corner of his mouth lift as he slowly slid a hand up her bare arm then let his fingers trail down her arm again, his eyes never leaving hers. They lit up in amusement when she involuntarily shivered and Iris could only let out a soft gasp as within a split second, Eris had pulled her body flush against his, wrapping an arm around her waist.

Every inch of her was lined up to every inch of him and she felt the breath leave her body.

There was no space between them and Iris didn’t know what to do with herself as she nervously shifted, tilting her head to look at him, their lips once again in so many moments, only inches apart.

“I don’t know what to do with my hands.” she whispered and her cheeks flushed as his gaze uncharacteristically softened.

With a gentleness that made her throat tighten, he moved his hand from her waist and bought each of her hands to rest on his chest.

“Right here is just fine.” he murmured and though she hesitated again for a moment, Iris settled her hands where he put them, her fingers spreading slightly as she felt his toned body through the thin material of his shirt. She didn’t know if she was grateful for it or loathed the sight of it.

Tilting her head once more to look at him, she kept her eyes on his as Eris slid his arm back across her waist, tightening around her and Iris felt gooseflesh erupt on every inch of her.

“Is this okay?” he asked, squeezing her gently and the only thing that anchored Iris to this feeling was the wild beating of his heart that matched her own, a steady rhythm beneath her fingers that mirrored hers. She nodded silently, licking her lips before looking back down at her hands. Her hands that now rested on her husband’s chest.

Her husband whom she had never been this close to. Glancing back at him, Iris knew without either of them saying a word that this moment shifted something deeply between them. They were diving into a territory of feelings neither of them were prepared for but right here, right now, this moment was theirs. This moment where everything felt so right.

She hoped he couldn’t hear how loud her heart was beating and with heated cheeks, Iris looked at him with a small playful smile. “My hands are awfully close to your neck.”

Eris chuckled and she felt him tangle a leg around hers, the movement so natural it was unthought of that they hadn’t slept like this before. “I could snap your spine without a second thought.” He said with a twitch of his lips, the arm around her waist squeezing once more and Iris blinked then let out a huff of a laugh.

“Romantic, aren't we.”

“What is romance if not pain mixed with pleasure?” He said with a lazy smirk and Iris rolled her eyes. “I’d say threatening your partner constantly is the height of romance.”

“And I’d say I am deeply concerned about your thought process.”

“I thought you were the one who wanted to smother me with a pillow earlier? And with your hands just now?” He said with a pointed look. “Obsessed with my neck, you are.”

“It’s so…chokeable.” She whispered and felt his chest rumble with soft laughter. “My bare hands would feel more satisfying, I think.”

Eris’s eyes didn’t leave her face as she watched him fight back a smile before shaking his head then pulling her even closer to him, until she simply had no choice but to nuzzle her head into his chest.

“Tomorrow.” he murmured into the top of her head. “You can choke me tomorrow morning to your heart's content.”

Iris smiled into his chest and as his leg wrapped around hers, she slipped a hand around his waist and tugged him into her just as he had tugged her into him. She wouldn’t face tomorrow alone. He would be with her. And the thought settled her just as easily as her battered spirit had settled in his arms.

And for the first time, the husband and wife fell asleep wrapped in each other. The sound of his heart thumping a lullaby just for her and the feel of her in his arms a soothing balm to his aching bones.

#I would suggest listening to Waking Up Slow while reading this from their playlist #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #eris x oc #eris vanserra fanfic #acotar fanfiction #smtb chapters #gfics #if you'd like to be tagged or removed (no hard feelings!!!) please let me know!#thank you for reading i hope you enjoyed this one <3 #one of my favorite chapters to write tbh

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vithcy · 1 year ago

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25$ Toned sketch commissions open on Ko-Fi

✨Non- Human Characters welcome

✨Flat coloring, simple backgrounds and NSFW available as add-ons

✨ Feel free to DM any questions you have before hand.

#art commisions #art commissions open #digital art #let me know if there's any other type of commission you'd like me to add here #reblogs are appreciated <3 #artists on instagram

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tinkrbell · 3 months ago

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"i'm only going to say this once: you're a fucking idiot." carter was at his limit with the niceties. he wasn't a very nice person to begin with, but when it came to them, he typically had all the patience in the world. / @fcxglove

#carter's interactions.#fcxglove #plot in source <3 #let me know if you'd like someone else!#i'll be so honest your wanted plots tag is a gold mine i couldn't decide which plot to use

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 1 year ago

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Any tips possibly, for drawing Barnaby’s ears and making them floppy? I find that with how fluffy I like to draw them (similarly to you) it’s hard to show gravity laying them down on his shoulders and such. (Also if you see this I REALLY REALLY LOVE YOUR ART, YOUR HUMOR AND YOUR WAY OF TEXTING AND SUCH AND YOU ARE SUCH A BIG INSPIRATION TO ME IN MANY WAYS!! 💙💚)

i can sure as hell try!!! my scribbling process is very much a Subconscious thing so let me know if all of this is too vague / doesn't make Any sense, cause trying to translate it is Tough

okay so

the first Important thing is to visualize Barnaby's ears as physical objects. they have weight, volume. im just now realizing i could have used Clown's ~official site~ art to help clarify, oops. we'll have to do with my own scribbles. they'll mold to whatever manipulates them - not to the extent of water, but they're plushy.

personally, i view them as beanbags, or half-stuffed pillows - or water balloons. thick, and having a specific Shape but not solid. i always start with the basic shape before adding the fluff, as shown below. the "meat" of the ear, the heaviest part and the most affected by gravity, will distort the most when manipulated, and the volume will distribute

then when adding the fluff, keep in mind that the fur/plush folds with the grain. like if you have a pet, and you press your hand to their side, their fur will kinda bend and be "pinned" under your hand.

also! it helps to test this out yourself. if you have a beanbag, or a water balloon, a pillow with depleted stuffing - mess around with em. study how the shape changes and how the volume distributes. if you have something fluffy (a pet, a funky pillowcase, etc) mess around with the fur/fluff! a strong visual inventory helps So So much with art

speaking of weight and distribution!

i split Barnaby's ears up into two (technically three) parts - the anchor, where the ear attaches to his head, and the ear's weights. the first weight is attached to the anchor, so that one doesn't move much. it's mostly just affected by the ear's main weight, which is So Much Fun to play with.

honestly, the second weight is a beanbag all to itself. it really molds to fit the form of whatever presses against it. like shoulders! idk if the white lines are showing it well, but the ears' distribution usually flows off of the first weight and hits the second, where it kinda "bounces" on or falls around the solid surface blocking it

& the space between the weights (blue circles) is just connective. like, it still has stuff in it, but Less, yk? i think this thin space is good for portraying gravity/weight through how much there is - more = stretch, less + squish.

here's some additional visuals for weight, volume (shown with mesh), and gravity

so just.... yk... keep in mind that his ears have Volume and will fold over itself, bunch up, the basic shape is just Very malleable! his ears are beanbags attached to a fixed point on his head - other than that point, they can swing and squish however!

#i feel like this was a lot of words without a real explanation #so let me know if it doesnt make sense! i can try to approach this a different way. or Not if you'd prefer lol #but i Do hope this helps!!#scribble salad #rambles from the bog #also thank you!!! so much!!!#that really does mean so much and im So Glad my silly scribbles can be that for you <3

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milolovesbmc · 3 months ago

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For everyone who's talking about wanting an in trousers revival, fun fact, there is a fairly recent production (2019) from LA, I've never seen anyone talk about it so I figured I would!!!

#The only thing there is for it is the audio recording though #might make a post with my thoughts on it let me know if you'd be like.... interested in that :3 #falsettos #in trousers #in trousers 2019

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iminyourbookshelf · 7 months ago

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"Do you think I'm stuck with you in all universes?"

Originally inspired by @semifontos 's writing piece, GO READ IT IF YOU HAVEN'T ITS GREAT

#anyway rbs are like really cool if you'd like <3 #qsmp #qsmp animatic #qsmp fanart #qsmp slimecicle #q!slimecicle #q!slimeriana #slimecicle fanart #qsmp elmariana #q!elmariana #elmariana fanart #slimeariana #misclick duo #misclick family #also another thanks to semifontos bc a certain post let me know flippa's favorite colors were blue and pink #tw blood #a bookshelf makes art

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nerdallwritey · 4 months ago

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Cheeks All Flushed (Part 2)

***IMPORTANT! PLEASE NOTE: This is Part 2 to Part 3 (it makes sense, I promise) of my Beauty and the Bard series! Find Part 1 of this chapter here. If you'd rather read it all in one go, it's also posted to AO3.

Summary: “Oh, my love,” he looked at you affectionately and crawled back on top of you to kiss you, “you are breathtaking.” “Aw-” Astarion brought his fingers to your lips. “Say ‘aw shucks,’ and I will stab you.” Instead of responding, you kissed his fingers. “That’s what I thought,” he said, pulling back to gently uncross your legs with his hands. “Lift please,” he tapped your knees, wanting you to bend them for him. “That’s it,” he said quietly, “good girl.” OR The Tiefling party draws to a close and you and Astarion head to bed.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 23.1k (this particular part is 4.6k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of Astarion's past trauma, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, consumption of alcohol, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, reader likes kids, shenanigans amongst friends, general party antics Spoilers: Spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 Last chance to go back to Part 1 of this chapter!

a/n: So sorry this had to be posted twice. Apparently the banter was too much for tumblr to handle all in one go. Thank you if you made it this far! Your reward is smut! Apologies to those of you here for more vampire penis, it'll show up again in the future surely, but tonight is more about tipsy/soft Astarion. I hope you all enjoy :) (Thank you once again to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!)

It ended up taking quite a long time to finish saying your good nights and goodbyes to the tieflings, knowing that they were leaving in the morning and that there was a chance you wouldn’t be able to find them when you finally made it to the Gate.

Alfira had taken an especially long time to say goodbye to, given you were the only other bard she knew currently, and she asked you several questions to aid her in the process of writing her song about you. Lakrissa had watched on with nothing but fondness in her eyes and had hugged and thanked you when it was her turn to say goodbye.

Rolan and his siblings said their goodbyes and Rolan made sure to remind you that he’d be apprenticing under the wizard Larroakan. He drunkenly hinted that it wouldn’t be the worst thing if you came to say hi once you reached Baldur’s Gate and you promised that you would.

Danis and Bex had giggled through their goodbyes, swearing that they’d get back to the Grove safely tonight before leaving for the city tomorrow. Zevlor had thanked you and assured you he’d see to it that those who partook in too much wine would be shepherded back to the Grove with sober eyes watching them.

Halsin had given you a big hug and told you he’d return to your camp soon to discuss next steps for getting rid of the parasites. Meanwhile, the kids bid their goodbyes in a wave of emotions; some were excited, some were sad, and others were indifferent. You smiled at the fact that they all still wore or held onto their crowns tightly.

Polite goodbyes were exchanged with the other tieflings before saying goodnight to your companions and letting Shadowheart know that you would help with cleanup duty in the morning.

With a yawn and a stretch, your feet carried you back to your tent. When you arrived, you were mildly surprised to see that the flaps of your tent had been drawn and that there was light flickering inside, brighter than the single candle you’d lit earlier.

You cleared your throat loudly to make it known you were outside. “Are you decent?”

Astarion chuckled from within. “Yes, darling. Though I’m not sure if it would matter.”

You bent down to enter the tent, pushing through the canvas flaps and finding Astarion sprawled on your bedroll, a book open in his hands. He was perched elegantly among your pillows, looking as ethereal as always.

“No, no, make yourself at home,” you teased, turning to make sure the canvas flaps were shut all the way.

“Thank you, I think I will,” to emphasize his point, Astarion sank himself further into your pillows.

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Reading anything good?”

“Mmm, just some strange eel enthusiast’s ramblings that I found on the road.”

You lifted your eyebrows. “Oh? And what have you learned?”

Astarion sighed dramatically. “Apparently giant lightning eels aren’t technically eels.”

“Huh.”

He sat up straighter, eyeing you mischievously. “Although I was just reading about how they breed in the Sea of Moonshae.”

You snorted. “You’re not seriously trying to seduce me with eel facts, are you?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes. “You’re weird, I don’t know, figured I’d try it.” He shrugged and placed the book off to the side before extending his arms. “Come here, won’t you?”

You crawled towards him, nestling into his arms and he kissed the crown of your head.

“Read to me?” you asked.

Before you’d gotten together, you and Astarion would spend entire evenings at his tent reading, either in silence, or to each other, depending on the topic. You’d often try to make each other laugh with silly passages and dramatic readings. It made you look forward to settling in to camp for the night after long days of fighting Mud Mephits and Wood Woads.

He chuckled. “I doubt you’ll like it. I was just distracting myself until you showed up.” He brought his face close to yours.

You looked back at him in challenge. “Try me.”

He sighed. “Alright.” He picked up the book, still holding you in his other arm. He flipped back to the page he’d left off on. “‘Now, where can you catch eels? Bloody everywhere!’”

You snorted.

“Hush darling, you wanted this.” Astarion cleared his throat and continued. “‘From Neverwinter to Elturel to Calimport - you can find an eel. But where do they breed? And how? Well, you probably heard the stories that they’re just snakes that learned to swim, or they’re baby leviathans, or they’re Underdark spies, but that’s all bunkum.’”

“Not bunkum!” you teased. “And here I thought I knew so much about eels.”

Astarion raised his voice to get you to quiet down. “‘They breed in the Sea of Moonshae, I’m sure, and then swim all over Faerûn. And if those pricks in Candlekeep’d give me money to sail-’”

“Okay, I get the picture.” You took the book from Astarion’s hands and set it beside you.

“Told you, darling,” Astarion settled further into the pillows, bringing his nose against your throat.

You inhaled sharply when he started kissing your neck. “Should I be insulted that you thought it might turn me on?”

“I don’t need some lunatic’s musings for that,” he murmured, lightly dragging his fangs along your flesh.

You shivered and angled your head to give him better access. “No you don’t.”

He groaned quietly. “You smell divine.” He kissed your neck again.

“You can bite me if you want,” you breathed out.

Astarion shook his head against you. “It’s alright, love, I’ve had plenty of your blood and wild hog blood and wine today. And you’re tired.”

“How thoughtful of you. But I’m not that tired,” you whined.

Astarion lifted his head to look at you. “Oh?” He smirked at you impishly.

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said innocently, kissing your cheek chastely. In one swift motion, he rolled you onto your back, and lifted himself up to hover above you.

Your eyes widened at him and his smirk grew wicked. You felt your cheeks flush and you looked away, trying to avoid his intense eye contact.

He bent and returned to kissing your neck, licking a stripe from the column of your throat up to your ear. “Relax,” he whispered, his hands drifting down to the hem of your blouse and pulling it up over your head.

You tried sounding normal but felt your voice catch in your throat. “Wh-at are you doing?”

Astarion kissed the valley between your still-clothed breasts. “Taking my time.”

You hummed and twisted your fingers into his hair. “You’re sending a lot of mixed messages.”

Astarion looked up at you, his tone seductive. “Is it not obvious how much I want you?”

You laughed softly. “No, you’re making that quite clear, but you said you needed time to get used to having a choice. You’re not forcing yourself, are you?”

A small smile graced Astarion’s features before he surged upwards and kissed you deeply. When he pulled back, his eyes were soft. “You’re far too nice to me. It’s disgusting.”

You shrugged awkwardly. “I care about what you want.”

He kissed you again. “Thank you, love, but yes, I’m fine. Tonight was a celebration! And I fully intend on celebrating.” He smirked at you again, flashing his fangs.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy. When you didn’t find any, you nodded. “Okay.”

He smiled again and reached for the hem of his own shirt, pulling it over his head and discarding it by where your new lute rested against your backpack. He climbed back on top of you and kissed you slowly, his tongue seeking entrance only after a few moments of clumsily moving your mouths against one another’s. His tongue glided against your own, and you moaned, once again twisting your fingers into his hair.

You felt his hand move behind your back briefly, and suddenly he was pulling off your bra, making you whimper.

He broke the kiss to look at you, nothing but admiration in his eyes. You shifted your gaze away, still not used to being so vulnerable in front of someone else.

“Exquisite,” he breathed, leaning down to kiss you again and palming your left breast gently. His cool touch caused your back to arch and you whined when your burning chest made contact with his icy one.

“Why-” you pulled away from Astarion’s kiss.

“Why what, darling?”

“Why do you think he chose eels as his hill to die on?”

Astarion plucked a pillow out from under you and placed it on top of your face, pressing gently as if trying to suffocate you.

You laughed wildly. “I yield! I yield!”

He pulled the pillow away and placed it under your head once more. “Mention eels again and I won’t hesitate.”

“No eel talk in the bedroom, got it.”

“Possibly ever,” Astarion amended.

“You brought it up in the first place,” you pointed out.

“A mistake I won’t be making again,” he said lowly, before kissing your jaw. He kept kissing down your chest until he reached your nipple and pulled at it lightly with his front teeth.

You gasped and arched your back again, pulling Astarion’s curls and making him moan against your breast. He detached himself to kiss your lips, then brought his head down to your other breast to give it the same attention. His tongue swirled over your nipple at a languid pace, his cool breath against his saliva causing goosebumps to spread across your chest.

“Astarion?” You asked, angling your head to look at him.

He looked up at you, the flat of his tongue licking your nipple. He retracted it before saying, “Ask another stupid question and I’ll bite you.”

You blew out an amused breath. “That wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

Astarion reconsidered. “In a bad way.”

You laughed. “No stupid question this time. I don’t think.”

Astarion sighed, resting his cheek on your breast as if it were a pillow.

You brushed a few loose hairs out of his face. “When will it be my turn to pleasure you?”

Astarion’s eyes went wide before settling on something soft. He took your hand currently raking through his curls and kissed the inside of your wrist.

You continued. “Especially since I sicced a bunch of kids on you and need to make up for it somehow.”

He chuckled quietly. “Thank you, my sweet, but I think I’d prefer to be in control for now, if that’s alright.”

“Of course it’s alright,” you said, resting your hand on his cheek. “It just seems unfair that I’m getting all the attention and you’re getting nothing in return.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s not true. I’m getting plenty of pleasure just from watching you fall apart,” he smirked and kissed you breast again.

You inhaled deeply, “I’m serious.”

He humphed and pulled away again. “As am I.” When he saw you weren’t satisfied with his answer, he thought for a moment. “Listen darling, it’s very sweet that you want to,” he cleared his throat, “pleasure me, but as I’ve said, I’m still getting used to… well, this.” He gestured between the two of you. “I don’t really want anyone to touch me without my consent. Unless it’s you.” He avoided your gaze, embarrassed to be admitting this. “But even with that being the case, I’d still feel more comfortable focusing on you for now.”

You nodded and took his wrist that was resting next to your head and kissed it just as tenderly as he’d kissed yours. “We’ll work our way up to it,” you smiled.

He smiled back, then narrowed his eyes seductively. “Make no mistake, I am having a wonderful time with you,” he brought his forehead to yours. “Feeling you around me is probably one of life’s greatest pleasures.”

You blew out a breath, making your lips trill. “Relax, you’ve only been in me twice. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

He waved his hand in front of your face. “Ah, yes love, but you're forgetting the fingers and tongue.” He smirked at you when he saw a blush spread on your cheeks.

“Whatever,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “One of these days I’ll make you cum myself.”

Astarion chuckled. “I don’t doubt that,” he kissed your temple. “I await the day.”

“No rush,” you added quickly. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he echoed, pulling back to look at you fully again. He sighed happily, palming one breast in each hand. “What was it Withers called me again? A ‘boob buddy?’ A ‘breast friend?’”

You groaned and dragged your hands down your face. “My bosom companion.”

He leaned forward to kiss your lips. “I know love, I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

“Bastard,” you murmured.

“But I’m so handsome and charming,” he murmured back, kissing you between words.

“Unfortunately,” you said, angling your head upwards when he moved down to kiss your neck again.

He hummed along your throat, which sent tingles up your jaw that made you giggle.

“I still plan on taking my time with you, my dear,” he said, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your pants. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

“I-” you took a shaky breath, still getting used to Astarion’s undivided attention. “Okay.”

“I’m also keen to leave, if you want me to,” he was giving you an out, in case you were still unsure, but his eyes betrayed what he was thinking: I don’t want to leave.

You gripped his wrist. “Stay.”

He relaxed noticeably and hooked his thumbs into your waistband again. “May I?”

You nodded and lifted your hips, helping him get the fabric over your hips and down your legs. He’d taken both your pants and panties in one go, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You bit your thumbnail and looked at him nervously, crossing your legs at the ankle.

“Oh, my love,” he looked at you affectionately and crawled back on top of you to kiss you, “you are breathtaking.”

“Aw-”

Astarion brought his fingers to your lips. “Say ‘aw shucks,’ and I will stab you.”

Instead of responding, you kissed his fingers.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, pulling back to gently uncross your legs with his hands. “Lift please,” he tapped your knees, wanting you to bend them for him. “That’s it,” he said quietly, “good girl.”

You whimpered, the cool air of the night making contact with your already slick folds.

“It’s too bright in here,” you said suddenly. “Anyone could see what’s happening.”

Astarion sat up, having just settled himself between your legs. “I suppose it is,” he agreed. He crawled around, blowing out candles, and you sat up, doing the same to a few that were around you.

“Better?” he asked when all the light in the tent was out, save for the moonlight that was able to shine through the canvas and the torches that were still lit for the party that was dying down outside.

“Yes,” you said, resuming your position on your pillows.

“Good,” he purred, kissing your inner thigh and settling between your legs again. He tapped your thigh lightly in warning before licking your folds slowly.

You gasped loudly and slapped a hand over your mouth, remembering that the party was still technically going on outside.

“Shy, darling?” Astarion smirked up at you and you rolled your eyes, whimpering again when he returned to licking you. “But I love hearing you sing for me.”

He began sucking on your clit, making you shriek out a moan. You felt him smirk against you and you wrapped your fingers in his hair as tightly as you could, hoping to give him a taste of his own medicine. Unfortunately, it made him moan into you, sending delicious vibrations through your core and making you whimper again.

He returned to licking up and down your folds. “If only you knew how delicious you were.”

“Then kiss me, asshole,” you shuddered, feeling his cold breath against your wet cunt.

Astarion growled and climbed on top of you, kissing you harshly and making sure to slip his tongue into your mouth to let you taste yourself. He pulled away, assessing your expression. You smacked your lips dramatically. “Could be better,” you teased. “I’m sure I’m nothing compared to you.” You waggled your eyebrows and Astarion smiled, leaning forward to kiss you again.

“In time, my love,” he promised, kissing your cheek sweetly before returning to his spot between your legs. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and began licking you again.

You reached over for your discarded blouse and bunched it up, placing it in your mouth to muffle your sounds.

“No, no,” Astarion scolded. “Let them hear us. You have the loveliest voice.” His thumb pressed tight circles into your clit and you whined before removing the shirt again. “That’s a good girl,” he praised.

“No funny business,” you said, not liking the smirk on his face that shined with your slick.

“Me? Funny business? Never.” He lowered his face again and you nearly yelped when you felt his tongue dip into your core.

You squeezed his head with your thighs lightly. “Bastard,” you muttered and felt him smile again. As if to tease you more, he began to make loud slurping and sucking noises. “Astarion,” you whisper shouted, despite your eyes wanting to roll back from the sensation.

“Mmm?” He half asked, half moaned wantonly. His tongue continued entering your cunt while his thumb circled your clit.

“Loud,” you sighed absently, trying to be responsible, but feeling too good to be truly mad at him.

He removed his thumb and returned to sucking your clit. He pulled away for a second to say, “Watch, precious thing, I’m going to make you cum using only my mouth.”

“You’re not going to talk at me, are you?” you laughed.

“I don’t know,” Astarion said between licks, “a joke made you cum earlier.”

“Shut up and keep tongue fucking me,” you groaned.

He chuckled and squeezed your thighs, sucking again at your clit.

Tiny moans of pleasure escaped you, and you rolled your hips, trying to get impossibly closer to him. He hummed against you pleasantly, making you whine loudly.

“I love your voice,” he repeated and licked another stripe along your folds. His tongue entered your core again, making you squeeze your thighs involuntarily. He moved your legs apart and further locked his arms around your legs, attempting to keep them still.

“I love whatever you’re doing with your tongue,” you exhaled, raking your hands through his hair again and massaging the tips of his ears.

He let out a moan that turned into a pathetic little laugh and the sensation sent a shockwave through your core. You rolled your hips again, wanting him as close as possible.

“More,” you whined softly, shutting your eyes tight.

Astarion returned his focus to your clit, sucking hard and swirling his tongue loudly. He began to hum again, more prolonged this time, and you recognized what seemed to be the jaunty melody of “Bard Song.”

It surprised you, and hurled you closer to your climax. “Astarion,” you whimpered.

“Like that?” he murmured against your clit before continuing his ministrations.

“Keep going,” you encouraged.

You felt him smile again and he continued to hum the tune he must have heard you play a dozen times by now. He nipped and sucked and swirled his tongue on your clit, all while humming. Your hands tightened in his hair and your legs began to shake.

“Yes,” he said into your flesh, “let go, my love.”

With a few more harsh sucks and slightly off key hums, you felt yourself reach your peak and cried out loudly for Astarion. Waves of pleasure coursed through you and you felt Astarion eagerly licking around your cunt.

“So good,” you heard him murmur between licks, “you did so well for me, darling. I adore the way you taste.”

With a sharp inhale, you opened your eyes and smiled down at him, breathless. His eyes were still closed as he cleaned you slowly, savoring your taste on his tongue.

When he opened his eyes, you saw them crinkle at the corners, indicating he was smiling.

“There you are,” he said as if just noticing you were there with him, getting up onto his hands and knees and crawling over you again. He bent to kiss you and you sighed against his mouth.

“You like my music,” you looked up at him in wonder and wiped a bit of your slick off the corner of his mouth.

“Mmm, I’m pretty sure that’s a fairly well known song,” he teased.

You made a face and he softened.

“Okay, yes, maybe I’ve been paying attention when you're playing that obnoxious tune.” He brushed some hair out of your face. “It gets stuck in my head, the stupid thing.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug, making him gasp in surprise.

“Thank you,” you said softly into his hair.

You weren’t sure you’d ever properly articulate what you were feeling. All this time, Astarion had been paying attention. He’d whined and griped and moaned the entire time you’d known each other, and yet he’d been paying attention. To you, your music, your needs and desires… He was constantly surprising you with how thoughtful he was. He’d been so sweet with what you’d needed from him last night, and then today you learned he’d been holding onto a new lute for you since before he even admitted to himself or you that he had feelings for you. And just now he’d shown that he had always been listening when you played something for him and your companions. He truly hadn’t propositioned you out of the blue yesterday, he’d cared about you for much longer than either of you realized.

Astarion laughed, relaxing his body against you and settling his face at the junction between your shoulder and neck. “I’m going to assume you’re thanking me for the excellent orgasm you just experienced and say ‘it was my pleasure, darling.’”

You let out an amused breath and mindlessly traced the raised peaks along his back.

“You mean a lot to me,” you said quietly.

“Yick,” Astarion said, drawing tiny spirals on your shoulder with his index finger.

“I know,” you agreed. “Imagine how I feel. You’re the most annoying man I’ve ever met.”

“You flatterer, you,” he kissed your shoulder where his face was buried.

You tapped his back lightly and made to sit up. Astarion took the hint and rolled off of you.

You leaned forward and grabbed his discarded shirt, pulling it over your head. You inhaled deeply. “Smells like you,” you mused, batting your eyes at him before slipping into your loose sleep pants.

Astarion looked pleased to see you wearing his shirt again, but his face fell when you peaked out the flap of your tent into camp.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked in a teasing tone, but you could tell he was a little nervous that you were actually leaving.

You smiled and kissed him softly. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

“Take your time,” he said airily, examining his nails, though you saw in his eyes that he wanted you to hurry back.

You kissed him again. “You big baby. Stay right there.”

You poked your head out again, looking to make sure no one was in your vicinity. You saw the backs of Shadowheart and Gale huddled near the entrance of camp, sending off the last of the tieflings with Halsin, while Wyll and Karalach’s tents were shut tight, indicating they’d turned in for the night. Lae’zel, meanwhile, appeared to be meditating outside of her tent.

Good, you thought to yourself, I’ll make this quick.

You crept out of your tent and made your way to the left towards the lakeshore. You grabbed your now dry blanket off the clothesline, folding it over your arm.

As you were about to grab one you recognized to be Astarion’s, Withers’ voice made you jump.

“I heardest you just now.”

You slowly turned to look at him, his face as impassive as ever. “Like hells you did, Bone Man,” you said through gritted teeth. “No one will believe you.” You thought for a moment. “No, yes they will. But keep it to yourself. I just got a bosom companion, please don’t ruin this for me.”

You pulled Astarion’s blanket into your arms and swore you saw the corners of Withers’ mouth turn upwards into a smile, but it may have just been a trick of the moonlight.

“Goodnight, Withers,” you said, grabbing another of Astarion’s blankets off the clothesline.

“Sleep well,” he responded. “You likely needest it.”

You scoffed out a laugh and turned back towards your tent, quiet on your feet. You crouched down and went to crawl back in, but found Astarion hovering by the entrance.

“Oh,” he said quietly and moved back to let you in. “There you are,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Miss me?” you smirked, tossing him one of his blankets.

“Please,” he rolled his eyes. “I knew you’d come crawling back to me.”

You laughed and spread your blanket out over your bedroll.

“What are you doing?” he asked, watching you intently as you rearranged pillows so that there were no uncomfortable lumps under the blanket.

“Making a new nest,” you said casually. You wrapped one of his blankets around your shoulders and laid down. You spread your arms, inviting him to join you.

He hesitated, looking down at the blanket in his arms.

“Come here, dummy,” you said fondly, sitting up and taking the blanket from him.

He scooted closer to you, laying on his side, facing you.

You laid beside him, wrapping the blanket on your shoulders around him too, and spreading the other one over both of your legs.

“Now what are you doing?” he asked.

“Making us cozy so we don’t wake up freezing. It’s been getting colder at night.” You paused. “Does the cold even bother you?”

He nodded. “I can get very cold but-” he cleared his throat. “You want me to sleep with you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did we not do this last night?”

He smirked. “We did, but I don’t know, we were in the middle of the forest, it’s not like you had much choice.”

“Astarion,” you brought a hand up to cup his cheek, “I like you so much. And I want to fall asleep with you as often as you’ll let me.”

A soft smile found its way onto his lips. “You’re a clingy little shit, aren’t you?”

You huffed and dramatically turned over, facing away from him.

He laughed and pulled you closer by the hips. “Only teasing, love.” He kissed your hair.

You looked back at him. “It doesn’t have to be every night, I know you like your space, and we don’t have to cuddle or anything, but-”

He cut you off with a kiss. “Gods, you love to talk,” he said quietly.

You pouted. “Fine, then I won’t tell you what Withers just said to me.”

He pulled you closer to him, tangling your legs together and settling his nose onto the back of your neck. “I’m sure it was something archaic and mildly cryptic.”

“He said he heard us.”

Astarion leaned up to look at you. “He did not.”

“He did.”

“Of all the…” He trailed off. “Whatever. Who’s he going to tell?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you laughed. “Everyone knows we’re together anyway.”

Astarion smiled at you and kissed your cheek before lying back down. He sighed happily. “That we are, my love. That we are.”

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