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tumbleweed-run · 1 year ago

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(18+, Explicit) Kinktober 2023 Day 7: virginity

“There you are, I was wondering if you’d changed your mind,” Gale tried to make sound light, a little joke between the two of you but you could hear the undercurrent of tension in his words.

“I’m sorry,” you said earnestly, letting your hand rest on his shoulder as you sat. “I got caught up asking Wyll something.”

That was a lie, and one you felt a little guilty telling him, but the real reason you were delayed was a bit more embarrassing. You’d been sitting by the fire going over conversations in your head. Or rather, how to have a very specific conversation. One you still weren’t exactly sure how to approach.

The truth of the matter was, physically you were a virgin. Even though you’d had mind-blowing, life-changing, astral sex with Gale just before fighting Ketheric your body was still very much the virgin it had been before that night.

Gale, of course, didn’t know that fact. It wasn’t something you advertised to potential suitors.

It wasn’t that you were some prudish untouchable. You’d had your fair share of odd groping as a teen (and adult) and were intimately familiar with your own body. You’d just never had actual sex using your body.

That was an odd distinction to have to make.

You weren’t ashamed of it, it was just something that didn’t happen. Some people never had the opportunity to try certain foods or go certain places, you’d never had the opportunity to have sex. Or rather, you had the chance a few times, but the partners were decidedly less than ideal.

You realized that keeping this fact from Gale was becoming increasingly like keeping a secret. You needed to tell him, and you needed to do it before he decided to take advantage of the relative quiet of the journey from the Shadowlands to Baldur’s Gate.

“You seem quiet,” Gale prodded, bumping his shoulder into yours.

“A lot on my mind,” you admitted vaguely. You bumped your shoulder into his but stayed there, leaning into his warmth.

Gale hummed in agreement. “It’s odd this calm before the proverbial storm.”

You felt him press a kiss into your hair.

“I need to tell you something, but you can’t make a big deal about it,” you said eventually after allowing yourself to sink into the comfort of the moment.

You felt Gale’s body stiffen, no doubt anticipating the worst kind of confession. Though at this point you weren’t sure what Gale would consider the the worst.

“Alright, I’m intrigued,” He said very neutrally.

You took a deep breath and sat up right, giving yourself the space for this. “Just to be clear, that night, our bodies weren’t actually… involved.” You were hopeful maybe you were wrong and you’d just missed all the awkwardness because you’re mind was literally somewhere else.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Gale’s head cock to the side. “Ah no, they weren’t,” he agreed, unknowingly dashing your hopes, “it looks a bit strange to an outsider, I admit, but alas our corporeal selves were exactly where we left them.”

“Why?” He tacked on after a pause.

“Well, that would mean that I’m still technically a virgin.” You made your admission rather quickly, words bumping into one another as you spat it out, hoping to get this odd conversation out of the way.

Gale was unusually quiet and when you finally turned your head to look at him you saw about a thousand emotions cross his face.

“You’re a…” he trailed off.

You waited.

“Virgin?” his voice had risen almost comically.

“Yes,” you confirmed.

“But you’re-”

“Yes, I know how old I am,” you interrupted rolling your eyes at him.

“You mean you’ve never…?” Another incomplete sentence from your usually verbose wizard.

“That would be what that means, yes,” you confirmed… again.

You sighed and turned your body so you could look at Gale easily. “It’s not that I’m some innocent. I’ve had the odd kissing session in a dark room, its just never gone any farther. Not to mention I’m concerningly familiar with my own hand and also that one odd pillow in my…”

You trailed off as you watched Gale’s eyes darken. He cleared his throat and shifted. Idly you wondered which of those revelations had affected him so.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounded almost hurt.

“It never came up,” you admitted, “first, you were at risk of blowing us all up and then we ended up having sex astrally. I would have told you if we’d been… physically involved,” you assured him, fighting with yourself as to how exactly word things.

Gale seemed to absorb this information with acceptance. “Well I guess that means my plans for tonight are off the table.”

“What? Why?” You sounded genuinely alarmed, surprising even yourself.

Gale smiled a small, exasperated thing. “My love, I can’t have you bedded properly for the first time in some wood in the middle of nowhere.”

“You absolutely can,” you insisted.

He chuckled and took your hand. Normally you would have seen a similar move as patronizing but there was nothing but love and adoration shining from Gale’s eyes. “We can be together astrally, again.”

“No,” you huffed pulling your hand away, growing frustrated. This wasn’t why you’d told him. “I want you,” you insisted, “I want you, for real. Here.”

Gale shook his head again, “but you deserve-”

“Gale,” you moved up onto your knees so you could hold his face between your hands, “this is about what I want. And what I want is your actual physical cock inside of me, here in this clearing. Tonight, preferably.”

Whatever Gale had been expecting, that confession wasn’t it. His mouth dropped open.

“Are you sure?” He asked eventually.

You nodded, vigorously, “yes.”

“Then I will give you what you want.”

You leaned forward and kissed him. Gale gathered an arm around your waist and laid backward, pulling you with him. You laid across his chest, eagerly allowing yourself to get lost in kissing him.

You shifted, slotting your body between his legs. Gale groaned when your thighs brushed against his cock, already half-hard. Taking advantage, you pressed your tongue between his lips. His hands slid down your back to your ass, cupping it he pulled you up and closer.

“How many young lads did you lead into dark corners, only to leave them with their hopes dashed?” Gale teased when you two finally separated for air.

You laughed. “I never said I left them unfulfilled.”

Gale shook his head with an amused smile. “I assure you every lad who left without bedding you was unfulfilled in some regard.”

“I think,” you smoothed a hand against his chest, “you think too highly of me.”

“Not possible,” Gale reassured. His expression changed as you watched, from playful to something more sincere.

“What have you done with others?” He asked all of a sudden.

Now, you felt you might be a little offended. “Gale, I wasn’t saying that-”

“No, no,” he shook his head, “I don’t care if you’ve had a thousand cocks in your mouth. Confused, perhaps, but I want to know specifically what has been done to you that hasn’t come from your own hand… or pillow I suppose.”

“Oh,” you felt a little sheepish now.

With out warning his hands slid to your thighs and he lifted you, pulling your legs apart, forcing you to straddle him. You could feel his cock pressing against your core. You fought down the urge to grind against it.

“Has anyone ever made you come with their mouth?” Gale asked then.

You shook your head, a warmth crawling down your neck at the thought.

“Their fingers?” He continued.

Again, you shook your head. “Twice I've had someone’s hand down my pants,” you admitted, “but it was awkward and they never really did much.”

“Maybe you’re lucky,” Gale mused, “boys tend not to think beyond their own needs.”

“And men are any different?” You challenged.

Gale’s eyes darkened as he looked at you now. “Not all, but this one, yes. Your needs are mine.” He rolled his hips up then, grinding his cock against you.

“Oh,” the sound felt like it was punched out of you. Happily, you rocked your hips back down against him.

Gale’s hands went to your hips, holding you from doing anything further. You tried to roll them again and frowned when he wouldn’t let you.

“I promise I will pay as much attention to your pretty cunt as you can stand,” he started, “but I need you to promise you’ll stop me if anything makes you uncomfortable.”

There was an edge to his final words, and you knew anything less than an agreement that he’d leave you untouched.

“I promise,” you repeated.

“Good girl,” He rewarded, his words shooting straight to your core. You absolutely did not look at him in an attempt to hide that knowledge from him. His chuckle let you know it had been unsuccessful.

He released your hips and you ground down on him once more.

In a testament to Gale’s self-control, or perhaps his determination, his hands moved to the ties of your trousers. When he’d finished opening them, he rolled you both so he was above you. He sat back on his legs and slid backward before working to shimmy your bottoms off before discarding them in a pile nearby.

He gently pushed your legs and you laid back, allowing him to bend your knees. He gently pushed at them so they dropped to the side. You shivered both from the complete exposure of the position he’d put you in and also from missing his warmth on you.

“Fingers or mouth?” Gale asked, hands sliding down your thighs, ever closer to where you truly wanted them.

“I believe I said cock,” you retorted.

A light pinch was delivered to your thigh and you jumped, startled but not actually in pain. “Soon,” Gale promised, “for now, though, those are your options.”

“Mouth,” you answered with almost no hesitation.

Above you, Gale smiled, apparently pleased with your answer. “Do you want anything? A pillow,” he asked rather than doing what you’d asked for.

“I want,” you answered a bit snappier than you’d meant, “for you to touch me.”

“Some day, I will have you without risk of interruption.” Gale wasn’t really talking to you it seemed. Still, you wondered what he meant by that. You hoped something wicked.

All thoughts left your mind when you felt his fingers spread you open even further. You were about to remind him you’d said mouth, unable to resist the urge to push against whatever side of him you were seeing, when you felt his breath hot against you. That urge fled, just as quickly as your thoughts.

You cried out when he swiped his tongue between your folds. Quickly you pulled your arm across your mouth, aware the camp wasn’t too far off. Gale didn’t seem at all concerned though as he began tracing maddening paths with the tip of his tongue.

Somehow he was touching you where you wanted and yet seeming to avoid it all together. A growl ripped out of you in frustration and you tried to slide down closer to his mouth. An arm flew across your hips quickly, preventing you from moving anywhere. You were about to say something, beg even, when his tongue finally found your clit. You cried out, free hand threading itself in Gale’s hair. If you couldn’t move closer to him, you could at least pin him to you. He didn’t seem too bothered by this thought, tracing his tongue down you again, this time pressing it inside of you.

“Shit,” you cursed hips ineffectively trying to grind down again.

Gale, in some act of benevolence or maybe because he was enjoying your reactions, move his arm from across your hips. He instead pushed his hand under your ass forcing you to tilt your hips up towards him. He moved his attention back to your clit. You felt the walls of your pussy begin pulsing around nothing and you whimpered.

“Fingers,” you gasped, pulling your arm from your face.

Gale either didn’t hear you or was ignoring you. A few more seconds of attention to your clit and then his teeth gently nipped against it.

“Fuck,” you cried out as your orgasm hit, once again pulling Gale against you. You couldn’t help but shamelessly grind against his face as you came.

He stayed there, tongue licking broad stripes up and down your center until you stilled. Only then did he gently disentangle your hands from his hair and sit up.

He knelt between your still-spread legs, a hand gently cupping your cunt. He was watching you closely, pleased with whatever he saw he gently began kneading against you.

“Will you fuck me now?” You asked unable to help the way your hips chase up at the contact.

He shook his head. Briefly, you were mesmerized by the way his beard, glistening with your wetness, reflected the light.

“Why not?” You whined, which wasn’t exactly how you’d meant to say that.

Gale chuckled before leaning over you to press a kiss on your lips. You could smell yourself on him, taste it even when he pulled away. Far from being turned off by that fact you found yourself wanting to kiss him again.

“Fingers, first,” he said and demonstratively slipped a finger beneath your folds to press against your entrance.

He easily pressed the finger into you, finding no resistance when he did. Gently he began pressing it in and out, every time he ground the heel of his palm against your clit until your hips were rolling with his movement.

His eyes never left your face when he began pressing a second finger into you. You nodded, trying to pull them deeper but he only continued pressing the new digit into at a slow pace.

“Gods,” you moaned when his fingers were pressed into you completely.

“Not quite,” he answered with a wry smile.

You were quickly distracted when you realized he was refusing to move his fingers in you. He was just grinding his hand to your clit, and while it felt amazing it wasn’t what you wanted.

“Gale,” you whined rolling your hips in an effort to get some movement inside of you.

That was his aim, apparently. Gale held his hand still and allowed you to fuck yourself on his fingers. You grew brazen, chasing after the grinding sensation as well with a roll of your hips. He watched you with a scrutiny that had your body flushing. Gradually you realized he had begun gently scissoring his fingers inside of you, pressing you open wider each time you pulled away from them.

His fingers were thick and you felt yourself clench around them at the thought of what he’d (hopefully) be replacing them with. You realized, in a passing thought, that you’d struggle to watch his spell casting in a normal way ever again.

You felt another orgasm building and with great effort stilled your own hips.

“Please,” you groaned out, “I want you inside me. Please, I’m ready,” you were shamelessly begging.

“Yes,” Gale agreed before finally thrust his fingers in and out of you a few times and then with drawing them entirely.

He was quick about removing his own trousers. His cock sprung free and slapped against his stomach, in the moonlight you could make out a bead of precum on the tip.

Your mouth watered.

Gale didn’t allow your thought to wander any further before settling between your legs. One hand hooked around the back of a thigh and hiked up your leg against him.

“Tell me if this hurts, despite what you’ve heard it doesn’t have to,” he said leaning over you, bracing himself with his free arm.

You would rather die, you realized as you nodded a lie to him.

The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, but he didn’t move any further. It appeared he’d also put you in a position where he could keep you from pushing down on it. You wondered if it was forethought or simply a coincidence.

When he pressed inside your head collapsed fully against the ground. He was certainly bigger than anything that had been inside you before, his thick fingers included. Painstakingly Gale began pressing into you. His movements were slow and controlled, making sure to keep you immobile. The sensation was uncomfortable but not painful as he stretched you even further.

You couldn’t help but be grateful, now, for his refusal to fuck you immediately.

When he bottomed out, hips pinned against yours, he groaned head dropping forward. You felt the muscle of his thigh tremble against yours. You were secretly pleased as he struggled to maintain his composure.

You tried to wait him out, trust him as he had only thought of you so far, but your patience only extended so far. Experimentally you clenched around his cock.

“Shit,” he groaned, hips stuttering as he restrained a thrust.

“Please,” you whispered once again fluttering around him, “please.”

Gale pulled out only a little before slowly thrusting into you. It wasn’t much but your eyes rolled back.

He kept it that way, small shallow thrusts until there was almost no resistance when he did. Then, he began working back further before thrusting into you. He was grunting with each thrust, head hanging low so his forehead was resting against your chest.

“Gale,” you whined unable to take the coddling much longer.

It seemed his restraint was hanging on by a thread because his hips snapped up against yours, much harder than any previous movement.

“Yes,” you cried out in response.

Gale began truly fucking you then. He was mumbling something against you but the sound of your skin slapping against one another was drowning him out. Your own hips were moving now, too, the hand on your thigh had loosed so he was not longer holding you still.

“Touch yourself,” he said, voice strained, finally loud enough for you to hear.

You were able to slide a hand between the two of you. Instead of touching yourself right away you pushed your finger further down enjoying the sensation of the slide of his cock in and out of you.

Abruptly Gale pushed up so he was sitting back on his knees. Both hands sliding under your hips in order to tilt you up so he never slid fully from inside of you.

“Now, please,” he groaned out and you realized he was holding back his own orgasm.

Hurriedly you found your clit with your fingers, this new position making it easier. You rubbed quickly and efficiently in a way you’d long learned would bring you off.

“Beautiful, you’re so beautiful,” Gale babbled above you. “Come for me, I want to see your face this time.”

It was his words more than your fingers that pushed you over the edge. You whimpered and he began thrusting harder as you squeezed around him.

Gale came with a shout, eyes screwing shut. He pinned your hips together once more as he spilled inside of you. He rode out his own orgasm like that, hips rolling slightly with each pulse. Once he was done, Gale gently lowered your hips back to the ground, allowing himself to slip out of you.

You extended your hand up to him and when he took it you pulled him down against your chest.

“Next time I think I want to ride you,” you told him after a moment of quiet.

Gale laughed before tilting his head up to capture your lips in a kiss.

#gale x reader #gale x tav #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #kinktober 2023 #kinktober 2023 virginity

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tendermiasma · 4 months ago

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Anonymous asked: Did Clover help Halsin with the shadow curse etc, or is their story divergent from the game?

He did, in time. In the Shadowlands he felt exposed and vulnerable with nowhere to run. When the party started ordering him down from taking extra watches he exhausted himself with concealment spells. Halsin in particular seemed concerned with his welfare, encouraging him to rest, which made Clover vow never to close both eyes again. Halsin's entanglement with the Fey made him, in his eyes, his greatest threat. Halsin's want to keep him close felt like

a hound guarding his master's kill, waiting for his return. He'd walked in darkness before and braved the Shadowfell when the little thing inside him that his whole life kept him alive, that screamed and screamed to run or die, reached a fever pitch. It ended poorly.

It pained Halsin more and more that Clover looked at him with such confused mistrust, that he shrank from him. He should let someone alone who clearly wanted nothing to do with him. A sting was natural, but knowing that it was what one wanted had always made it easier to part ways in the end. It made him restless. A pit opened in his stomach when he'd reach to relieve Clover of the heavy water pail to douse the fire and watch his gaze immediately struggle to find its sharpness under a bleary sleeplessness thick with nights spent holding up wards while the Weave frayed around him. Halsin's eyes roamed the treeline but he only thought of how Clover froze at his approaching footfalls at the change of watch. Halsin felt childish, selfish even. Why couldn't he just let this be? He knew why. Something was deeply wrong-- he was a healer and saw in Clover an injury of a different kind. He wished he could convince himself it was the only reason. He had never been a good liar, but this was the first time he cursed himself for it.

It was he who carried Clover back to the firelight and kept him in his own tent to recover. As kind as Halsin was, it was unwise for anyone to keep Clover from him then.

In its unfamiliar warmth was the first time Clover ever spoke of what happened to him. He spoke in the weight of forests holding lost years and spells and a man in the bones of an owl. It all lay about in a half-light, a moonlight throwing long shadows on what he could not say, what he could not remember, what choked him from fear to even whisper.

While he was unable to leave-- due to his physical state and later Halsin's strong insistence-- they had many hushed hours to spend together. It was the first time Clover noticed the heaviness in Halsin's eyes that would part like clouds for the sun when there was something to be done. Clover softened under Halsin's murmured conversation and learned not to pull from his hands. He was only able to stand so much though; Halsin's intentioned touch was overwhelming. It was gentle and mindful and consumed his entire senses and made him want to bolt for the Shadowfell once more. He wanted to cut out every part of him that Halsin's hands had touched because he wanted to think of anything else besides the memory of them lingering on his skin. He wanted Halsin to never stop touching him. He wanted to set the tent on fire.

The warm and deep scent of the blankets and furs that Halsin piled around him was intoxicating and dangerously comforting to Clover. He put nettles under his cheek to keep himself from falling asleep. It sometimes wasn't enough. When Halsin drew close, Clover was enveloped in the same scent.

It took a great amount of trust for Clover to finally help Halsin lift the Shadow Curse and rescue Thaniel. He began to see Halsin's true heart when he very nearly made the whole world stop for him, just by giving him a place to be and a little bit of care without Clover having to look over his shoulder. Even if he still watched, he watched him differently. He defended the gateway with a ferocity and sense of purpose he could never remember feeling before; that something had meaning now. He knew the thing that Halsin would carry back with him. He did not know what he would do. But the little animal that lived in him that always told him to run was waiting for him, too.

#halsin #clover #cloverhoney #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #one day ill organize lore... uh huh

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fourraccoonsinacoat · 10 months ago

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Fall for Me | One Shot

Pairing: Astarion x Dark Urge

Rating: Explicit NSFW18+

Chapter Count: One Shot | Read on AO3 Word Count: 8,048

Title: Fall for Me - Sleep Token

Summary: Takes place during the events of Baldur's Gate 3 during Act 2. Explores the romance between Astarion and the Dark Urge as Astarion realizes there's a depth to his feelings that he's been trying to deny. Tags: Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, Mentions of Violence, Soft Astarion, Spoilers for the Dark Urge and BG3 in general, Dark Urge as Original Female Character.

Author Note: Well…this got a bit out of hand. It started as me wanting to write about the moment Astarion realizes he's in deeper than he thought with this relationship, then morphed into me wanting to explore his headspace while being intimate, and then just devolved into absolute filth. I have no excuses. This fic precedes another of my fics called "Faint of Heart," which can be found on my account.

Astarion woke to a cold and suffocating darkness. A scent of wet decay hung in the air, eerily familiar, and all around him the silence screamed.

The night was distinctly void of the mundane sounds that had become commonplace during their journey. Even as they trekked through the Shadowlands towards Moonrise Towers, their nights usually bristled with distant howls and the whispers of skeletal trees as their limbs tangled and clacked in the wind. Now, however, there was nothing but a heavy and stifling quiet that set his nerves on edge. An anxious sense of wrongness stirred in his gut as he tried to get his bearings.

Where was he? Last he remembered, their group bedded down on the outskirts of an abandoned town called Reithwin. They intended to explore the decrepit buildings and shadowed ruins the next day as they pushed towards Moonrise.

Astarion sat up and blinked into the clawing darkness, squinting as if that would somehow bring the world around him into focus. Even with his darkvision, nothing manifested except the ever-expanding gloom all around him.

He ran a hand across the damp floor and shivered against the deep chill that engulfed him. He cast about for his belongings but found none, only a cracked tile floor slick with mildew and grime.

He heard a metallic clatter in the darkness as he shifted around and suddenly tuned in to a weight around his right ankle. An icy dread began to rise in his throat like bile as he hesitantly reached out and touched the shackle, fastened tight.

No…

Panic shot through his heart like a stake and his mouth went dry. He realized with a vile shock why he recognized the scent of old rot which saturated the air. It was the smell of stale rat blood mixed with years of filth and dirt.

He was back in the kennels. Back in Cazador’s grasp.

The realization nearly made him vomit as terror and confusion twisted in his stomach. Astarion hadn’t needed to breathe in over 200 years, and yet that didn’t stop his chest from tightening nor his lungs from seizing. Panic swept through him. He tried to gulp down air as a constricted and choking feeling pressed over him. Eyes wild, Astarion desperately tried to catch sight of something…anything in the relentless gloom.

How? Why? What in the hells had happened?

His mind wheeled, fueled by a horrifying sense of upheaval. He didn’t recall being attacked, but that didn’t change the situation he now found himself in.

He had to get out. He couldn’t be here. This couldn’t happen. This wasn’t right.

Except…it was. Because this was how his life had always been. He’d never escape. Never be free. Cazador would always find a way to drag him back. His master would never let go. He would always find Astarion, no matter how far he ran.

Thou shalt know that thou art mine.

Cazador’s fourth rule burned in Astarion’s mind, haunting and vicious. He stifled a sob, swallowing it back down and gritting his teeth until his jaw ached. He needed to figure out what had happened, because if he was here then…

Eli…

His stomach lurched as a fresh wave of dread nearly choked him. Where was Eli? If Cazador had been able to seize Astarion, had he taken her, as well? Guilt flooded his mind as it raced, trying to piece together some sequence of events that made sense. None of it seemed logical, but he was too panicked to dwell on the irrational nature of it all.

If Cazador had Eli…

But Cazador didn’t know, he couldn’t know…how Astarion felt about her. Hells, Astarion didn’t even understand his own emotions when it came to Eli. She was…something to him. More than nothing, so much more than nothing.

If Cazador had her…if he turned her…hurt her… Gods, what had Astarion done? He’d put a target on her, and of course Cazador would find her and take her. Because that was what he did. He destroyed anything that brought Astarion even a moment of happiness. How could he have been so stupid?

“Eli?” Astarion called quietly into the darkness, unable to mask the distress that clawed at his throat.

The voice that answered struck him numb with fear.

“Foolish boy. How easy it was to deceive your weak mind.” The cruel mockery in Cazador’s voice caused Astarion to flinch as if he’d been hit.

“What did you do with her?” Astarion hissed through bared teeth, dreading the answer.

“Nothing. Because she is nothing.” Cazador’s voice reverberated in the darkness as if he were everywhere at once.

Astarion didn’t understand whatever game his master was playing, and so he remained silent; shivering, though not as much from the cold as the trepidation.

“You’ve always possessed such a feeble mind, so easy to bend and break,” the voice bit from the shadows. “Did you honestly believe you’d escaped? That you’d been abducted? I planted such an absurd fantasy in your head that I had my doubts as to whether you would believe it. But your incompetence never ceases to entertain.”

Astarion’s eyes went wide and he froze like a prey animal that had only just sensed a trap. A slow, creeping horror slithered up his spine at the thought of what Cazador was insinuating.

“None of it was real, you pathetic little wretch. You’ve been here, the whole time, trapped in an illusion of my design.”

Astarion was going to be sick.

“I thought it was time to pull back the curtain, before you got too attached. To remind you that you are mine, and that will never change. Because who would want something as miserable as you?”

He couldn’t breathe. He didn’t need to breathe, and yet he couldn’t. His throat burned with bile that came up from his churning stomach. Hot tears seared the corners of his eyes and his brain felt as if it were on fire.

It hadn’t been real… None of it… He’d never be free…

You are mine.

_______________________________

Astarion gasped awake, as if he were a man drowning who’d finally come up for air.

His chest heaved as sweat cooled against his skin in the night air. He rolled onto his side, coughing as the memory of vomit receded. He felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and wiped at the ones that had already trailed down his face.

Sitting up, Astarion shivered as the nightmare withdrew, glancing around his darkened tent anxiously as the ghost of Cazador loomed in his mind. He was alone, and though night in the Shadowlands was grim, it was not nearly as oppressive as the darkness in his dream.

A feeble hazy moonlight leaked through the murky tree canopy outside, casting a dim sheen through the pitch of night. Shadows bobbed and weaved on the walls of his tent, cast by drooping and swaying trees. The snarl of an animal sounded somewhere far off in the distance, and Astarion sighed as he tried to settle himself.

His nightmares were dipping into parts of himself he’d rather not acknowledge, preying on fears he wasn’t ready to face. He frowned, stomach knotting as residual feelings of fear and loss flashed through his mind like grease catching alight in a cook pan. He ran a hand through his white curls, recalling the anguish he’d felt in the depths of his dream. He’d felt so small. So fearful and alone. It made him restless.

Astarion stood and exited his tent, stepping into the chill of the night. Their campfire had burned to embers, the light barely able to cut through the murky darkness. The hour was either exceptionally late or achingly early, and the camp was still. Astarion was the only creature stirring in the gloom.

Memories, unbidden, jerked into his mind. Nights spent lurking in silent shadows, looking for a hapless target to bring back to the mansion. The endlessness of his putrid life was the only thing he thought lay before him. More decades of pain, torture and misery. The uncaring hopelessness of it all crushing every scrap of faith and every desperate prayer he had within until all that remained was a broken shell. Unfeeling and brittle.

He hated how wretched and pathetic he’d been. Used up and miserable. He never wanted to feel that way again. And so he fled from those memories, seeking distraction and solace, until he came to stand at the entrance to Eli’s tent.

Astarion paused just outside the mouth of the tent, apprehension twisting in his gut. He was being silly and foolish, he knew. Eli was fine. She’d be asleep in her bedroll and Astarion would feel like an idiot who’d allowed himself to get worked up over a godsdamn nightmare.

Gently, he pulled back the curtain that hung across the tent mouth and peered inside. As predicted, Eli was fast asleep with her back to the entrance. Astarion watched her shoulder rise and fall slowly as she breathed and felt the gnawing tension inside himself loosen its grip, just a bit.

Stupid. This was stupid. He was stupid. Gods, he wanted to hold her…

He wanted her to look at him like he meant something, like he was worth something. He wanted to lose himself in her, like that first night when they’d created their own pocket of nowhere. Free from Cazador and all of his miseries, free from the pain and the fear. Just them, wrapped up in hushed whispers and sweat and lust…and something else. Something different and needy and fragile. Something he’d never felt with anyone else.

“Astarion?” Eli’s voice pulled him back into the world and he blinked, focusing on her as she turned over to face him.

Of course she was awake. Eli’s sleep had become even more restless and fleeting since the night she’d woken him in a panic and he’d had to restrain her. He’d watched over her as she writhed, witnessing her loss of control as the thing within clawed for the surface. It had reminded him of how Cazador would wrest control of his spawn, forcing them to do as he commanded without resistance. He’d realized then that he feared losing her. That he cared and desperately wanted her to overcome whatever this monster was.

He was struggling with the realization, but that didn’t make the truth of it any less real.

“I’m sorry, my dear.” Astarion spoke quietly, shaking his head as if that would rid his mind of its cluttered thoughts. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Without pausing to dissuade himself, he crawled forward into Eli’s tent and sat next to her bedroll. He had allocated absolutely zero thoughts to what he would say or do next, but that wasn’t necessarily uncommon for him these days. Things had been working out for him so far, so why shift strategy?

Eli sat up and watched him curiously. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, waving off the concern that was growing in her eyes. “I’ve just been unable to sleep, what with Gale one tent over and snoring like an ogre with swamp lung. So, considering our current arrangement, I thought I might share your tent for the remainder of the night.”

Astarion’s words flowed with well-practiced ease and charm, as if he hadn’t just made that entire excuse up on the spot. He smirked at Eli, who was still fixing him with a skeptical stare, and fought down the sudden anxiety that was rising in his chest and urging him to back out of the tent.

Eli had become rather versed in reading Astarion and it was something he had not quite come to terms with yet. On one hand, it stroked the egotistical part of him that desired attention and affirmation to have someone so attentive to him that they could peak behind the pomp and bluster he so often put forth. On the other hand, he felt as if a part of him was at risk of being snatched away or trapped if someone was able to pull back the roguish mask he’d so carefully crafted. He felt unbalanced, oscillating between moments of vulnerability with Eli and moments where he slammed his walls back in place.

A part of him wanted to tell her why he was really there. That the thought of her, the thought of them, not being real had shaken him to the point where he physically needed to see her. Just to put his mind at ease. He didn’t understand it, himself; the feeling that had driven him to seek her out after he woke. And so he kept his mouth shut and didn’t elaborate, fearing that Eli may think him rather pitiful.

Eli continued to watch Astarion, dubious yet silent, before she sighed and shrugged. “Alright then. If you don’t want to tell me what’s really going on, that’s fine,” she said, then patted the space next to her on the bedroll. “You’re always welcome, you know.”

Astarion felt a strange pang of…disappointment twist in his chest. He’d honestly expected Eli to press further for an explanation that wasn’t clearly pulled out of his ass. But she didn’t. It was disarming.

He moved to her side and situated himself as Eli laid back down. She watched him for a moment as he fluffed a pillow and settled, then she closed her eyes with a deep breath and said nothing more.

“Thank you,” Astarion said quietly as his eyes danced across her restful face.

He felt a sense of unease, unused to having his boundaries respected in such a way. Eli had never been the sort to prod at him for explanations, or to prod at anyone, for that matter. As someone with their own menagerie of secrets and internalized darkness, she tended to allow others the leeway to decide how much or how little they wanted to share. Still, they’d been…indulging in one another rather frequently these days, and Astarion was realizing that while their nights together were a lot of fun, he wanted something…more.

The problem was he hadn’t any idea what that “more” was. And gods did it frighten him. The last thing he wanted to do was give someone else control over him, not after he’d so recently regained a taste of freedom. Over the past 200 years, every relationship he’d ever been involved in had been nothing more than a means to an end with Astarion either playing the role of manipulator or the one being manipulated. Attachments were leverage, giving someone a hook they were able to dig their claws into in order to gain ground. Isolating himself from connecting with others was how he had survived.

And yet, as he watched Eli drift back into sleep, his eyes found her hand resting near her pillow. A longing came over him and, carefully, he reached out tentative and slow until his fingers brushed gently against her own, quietly connecting. Questioning.

Eli’s eyes opened, sleepy but curious. She watched his fingers lightly caressing her own, and with a small smile took his hand and tenderly wove her fingers in between his. Moments like this, made up of soft touches and careful affections, were becoming more common between them. And the intimacy of these moments never ceased to fascinate Astarion.

To Astarion, intimacy had always involved passion and lust. It was created in the pressed spaces between fervent bodies as they worked one another towards ecstasy. It was fleeting and vanished just as quickly as it emerged.

This, however…this was different. This was calm and soothing, and it lingered almost like a promise. Always available to be restoked and explored.

“I…” Astarion began, hesitating for only a second before he steeled himself and pressed on. “I dreamed I was back at the mansion. Back under Cazador’s control.” The name was spoken on the edge of a growl, his red eyes fixed on their joined hands.

He paused, thinking through what to say next, and Eli allowed him the silence to collect his thoughts and continue. “He mocked me,” Astarion spat. “Saying that all this was an illusion. That I hadn’t escaped. That you were an illusion.”

He glanced cautiously to her face, and when his eyes met hers, he found understanding there.

“Well, you came to the right tent,” Eli smiled, voice playful though not dismissive. “I’m something of an expert on nightmares. We can even compare notes, if you like.”

She squeezed his hand lightly and repeated his words from the night when he’d kept vigil over her as she fought against the dark madness within herself. It was unexpectedly touching and Astarion felt something twist where his dead heart was.

“As for whether or not I’m an illusion,” Eli said as she propped herself up on her elbows, slinking closer to him, eyes locked in to his own. “We can thoroughly investigate that claim, if you’d like,” she whispered, a sly question lingering in her gaze.

Astarion smirked, rising and leaning in to close the space between them. He untangled his fingers from her own and placed his hands on her shoulders, fulling intending to roll her to her back and ravish her while she squirmed beneath him. Astarion had come to Eli’s tent with no expectations beyond wanting her close, but he certainly wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity to get even closer. They were good together. Really. Fucking. Good. And already desire was clouding over his mind as he bent to capture her mouth with his own. He had tasted her many times before, and yet every time they came together after a prolonged absence it felt fresh and raw. Rejuvenating and wild.

In all of his time as a thrall to his master, Astarion had never bedded the same person twice. Every night was a new conquest, new prey for him to stalk and tease until he’d gathered just enough information to get him through the evening and to get his target back to the mansion. The encounters always played out very tactically on his end as he gathered just enough surface-level drivel to ensure his quarry was seduced into the trap. Once Cazador came for his prize, Astarion would never see the poor wretches again, and that was fine by him.

With Eli, though, it was so different. There had been nothing tactical about any of it after that first night, and even during. The ecstasy of freedom, of choosing to give of himself rather than being forced, was intoxicating. They would explore one another, finding comfort in both familiarity and discovery, honing in on the things that drove the other mad and had them coming undone in the throes of rapture. They were becoming known to one another, intimately and completely. Perfecting and exploring and discovering every time they were together.

It was both enthralling and terrifying, being known like that. Being laid bare as Eli unraveled him just a bit further every time, uncovering parts of himself that had been left dormant and untouched for so long.

The anticipation of it all was already causing a firm swell to build below the waistline of his trousers as he pressed into the kiss. His tongue darted and teased at her lips, gently prodding between them and beckoning her closer. One of his hands had slipped to the small of her back as the other pressed into her shoulder, gently guiding her so that he could tuck Eli below him and crawl on top.

Eli, however, seemed to have other plans in mind and resisted his direction, pushing back into him and maneuvering the both of them until he was on his back with her legs straddling his waist. She never broke the kiss, rocking forward on her knees as she took his hand from her back and pinned it to the ground above his head, her fingers lacing in between his own. He growled into the kiss and playfully ghosted a fang over her bottom lip, causing her to hum needfully into his mouth.

And then her lips were gone, leaving only the hot impression of longing against his own as Eli trailed her lips from the corner of his mouth to the shell of his ear. Her breath was tantalizingly warm, brushing against the sensitive skin there, causing a shiver to course down his spine before it pulsated up into his firming dick. His free hand came to rest on her hip and he fingered mindlessly at the hem of her pants. He wanted her to sit back onto his groin so he could roll his hips up into her and rut his straining cock in between her legs. Hells, he wanted to be free of their clothes so he could sheathe himself inside her warmth and watch her ride him while he speared her over and over as she screamed his name until her throat was raw.

But then all thoughts and wants were lost to a white hot flash in his mind as Eli bit down on the tip of his ear, careful not to break skin but sharp enough to fire lightning off into his veins. His hips snapped up, needing to feel her as his cock throbbed. His left hand was still pinned above his head by one of hers, and he felt his nails digging at the skin of her knuckles while his right hand desperately tried to pull her hips down against him. He choked off a whine in the back of his throat and closed his eyes as his head rolled back against the ground.

She laughed breathily into his ear, and oh gods it was undoing him already. This was dangerous. She’d been paying attention, noting all the things that set him off and applying them expertly until she had him writhing. It was a wholly new experience for him and beneath his fervor and lust was a seed of trepidation.

When it came to sex, there had always been two ways the experience would play out. Either he would maintain control over the situation, or he would disassociate as his various partners had their way and used him to their satisfaction.

But this. This was new. And while it wasn’t unwelcome, the fact that she’d worked him into this position so easily was setting off alarm bells in the back of his mind. He felt exposed. Vulnerable. He hadn’t realized how freely he’d given of himself these past few weeks, how far he’d let her explore and how attentively she’d done so.

How known he truly was.

And then she was letting go of his hand while her lips returned to his own, pressing soft and affectionate kisses into them. She carded a hand into his hair, careful to avoid his ear which was still tingling and overstimulated. He felt a shudder of both relief and disappointment roll through his body as the high passed, missing the sensuality and hunger of it all while relaxing into a more settled state of mind.

Astarion’s eyes were still closed, and the throbbing in his dick had not subsided. He felt her breath back at his ear, though not as close as it had been earlier.

“I just want to make you feel good,” he heard her whisper, sending sparks back through his veins. “Show me how.”

His eyes fluttered open to find hers gazing back at him, sweet and attentive. He felt her fingers twining through his hair and sighed contently, a small smile on his lips.

“You’ve been doing a magnificent job so far, darling,” he crooned before pulling her back down into another wanting kiss.

He smoothed his hands along her sides, repositioning her atop him until she was flush against him. He ran one hand down her spine, firm and slow, while the other gripped the back of her head, encouraging her to melt into him as their tongues explored each other’s mouths and their bodies squirmed, searching for friction. The hand at her back moved to squeeze her ass before he pressed her down against him, desperate for pressure against his groin.

“My only critique so far is there are entirely too many clothes between us,” he breathed against her lips. The hand on her ass gripped tight as he pressed and rubbed his thick erection into her hips, driving the point home.

“Allow me to remedy that,” Eli said with a quick kiss.

And then she was gone, hiking his shirt up and licking warm and wet kisses down his belly towards his waistline. Her hands were undoing the fastenings of his trousers and his head was beginning to spin with the implication.

That wasn’t… She didn’t have to…

He felt Eli slip her hands beneath his smallclothes and tug, pulling both his trousers and underwear down until his erection was free. He sighed from the relief, feeling the fullness bob and twitch expectantly. Eli was dragging her tongue down from his bellybutton towards his aching cock and fuck…he couldn’t remember the last time someone had offered to do this for him.

His hand was in her hair, then, tugging gently for her to look up at him.

“That’s not what I was implying, my dear. You don’t have to…” Astarion’s protests trailed off when Eli’s eyes met his, full of lust and playful longing.

He’d sounded almost sheepish, even a bit apologetic, as a sting of guilt wormed its way into his gut. Astarion should be the one giving pleasure, that was how these things always went. That was what he was good at…what his master had made him for…

The thought struck out at him unbidden with a nasty sense of shock and disgust. Cazador had created him for the pleasure of others, taking every opportunity to viciously remind him that what he wanted and how he felt never mattered. It was a belief that had been bolted to his soul after decades of torment, and one it seemed he still carried, even when he wasn’t in his master’s grasp.

“Astarion,” Eli said, softly pulling him out of his spiraling.

He blinked and refocused on her as she pressed her lips gently against the taunt skin over his hip bone, drawing an eager hiss from between his teeth as his dick jerked. Images of her mouth around him, warm and so godsdamn wet and tight, were firing off in his brain and…fucking hells, when had he fallen so completely for her?

“Right now, in this moment, nothing would make me happier than to get you down my throat and thoroughly satisfy you.” Eli smirked at him, hands on his bare thighs and lips a mere breath away from his cock, red and full and beginning to leak.

Her eyes were glittering with a mischief that was intoxicating, but there was affection there, too, soothing and comforting. He shivered, furiously trying to shut his brain down as thoughts collided in explosions of need, guilt and desire.

He’d thought himself so smart, charming and seducing her into his bed. Laying a trap and then walking her into it with such confidence and glee, only for him to find himself just as ensnared. He’d used her, manipulated her, and then drowned himself in her and gods above, if he didn’t want to do it again and again.

“But if that’s not what you want…” He stiffened at Eli’s words, catching the undercurrent of concern in her voice as she shifted and began to move back up his body.

He stopped her, sliding his hand from out of her hair to cup her cheek while he brushed a few silvery strands from her eyes with the other. Now was decidedly not the time for him to have an internal crisis of feelings. Not in the middle of the night with his dick out, pants halfway down his legs and Eli saying such obscene and beautiful things to him. There’d be time for personal reflection later.

He wanted this. Wanted her.

“I want it.” He almost felt embarrassed at the raw desire that slipped through his voice, heavy and breathy. “Gods, you have no fucking idea how much…”

He stopped himself before he could elaborate more and completely mortify himself.

“It’s just been a long time since anyone offered,” he concluded. He wouldn’t admit he couldn’t remember the last time someone had pleasured him like that.

Eli considered him for a moment, expression thoughtful, and for a brief moment of panic Astarion wondered if she had changed her mind. About him and about all of this. But then her lips twitched up into a tender smile and he felt his soul shudder.

“Please.” Astarion breathed.

Eli ghosted a few featherlight kisses near the base of his cock before whispering, “Well, when you ask so sweetly…”

And then her mouth was on him and Astarion’s head rolled back as he made a noise he was entirely too obliterated to be ashamed of.

She took only the tip at first, sucking down onto the head as her lips slid back and forth over the swollen ridge. Her pace was slow, and it was both agonizing and exhilarating. His thighs clenched as a heavy pressure throbbed deep in his groin, sending shivers and tingles spasming out through his legs and up into his belly. His hand was back in her hair, grabbing and encouraging, careful to not be forceful, while his other hand fisted the bedroll.

He both heard and felt Eli laugh low in her throat, the vibrations of it tingling down his shaft and setting his nerves on fire. He’d managed to kick his trousers off, spreading his legs apart so she could nestle between them and absolutely destroy him.

Eli began sucking him down further, slowly sheathing himself into her mouth. He shut his eyes, growling as her warmth and spit enveloped him. He responded by hitching his hips up into her, wanting more, wanting her full of him. He felt her hands on his hips, directing him to rock up into her mouth at a languid pace. He fell into the rhythm, fucking into the suction. She flattened her tongue, applying pressure along his shaft every time he thrusted in before dragging her tongue tip along the sensitive skin when he pulled out.

The growl in his throat grew into a lewd moan that shamelessly filled the tent, leaving no one who was awake in camp to wonder about what was taking place. He could not have cared any less about who heard, and in fact he welcomed it. Let them all listen as Eli, savior of the Druid’s Grove, conqueror of Grymforge and scourge of the Absolute went down on him and fucked him senseless with her perfect fucking mouth. He was the only one she’d do this to, the only one she’d pleasure. No one else got to experience this, see her like this.

He was hers.

The thought set off a wave of arousal so potent that he felt his cock spasm in response, leaking precum that Eli’s tongue then swirled across his tip as he continued to rut into her. The pressure between his legs was mounting as a possessive and greedy emotion seized him.

“Darling…oh gods, darling, not yet…” Astarion wasn’t going to last like this, but he was not ready to be undone. Not yet.

He opened his lust-blown eyes and a feral groan tumbled out of him at the sight of Eli between his legs, sweaty and fervent and his. Leaning forward, he cupped her chin and encouraged her off his dick. Her eyes met his and the mixture of arousal and craving in her dilated pupils slammed into him so hard his chest hitched.

Nobody looked at him like that. Ever.

He needed more.

Wordlessly, he pulled her up to him and their mouths crashed together in a wild and wanton kiss that was all tongues and teeth. He could taste himself on her, salty and pungent and it drove him mad.

They only separated for a moment as Astarion pulled Eli’s shirt up and over her head before removing his own. Then, they were tumbling back onto the bedroll, Astarion still pinned beneath Eli as their hands greedily explored one another.

He began fumbling with the buttons of Eli’s pants, the last barrier between them, and licked into her mouth as she moaned desperately into their bruising kiss. She was writhing on top of him, bent over him and straddling his bare torso as her hips rolled against him shamelessly. Undoing the buttons, he slipped his hand beneath her underwear and ran a teasing finger between the lips of her swollen clit.

Eli whined and gasped as his touch and Astarion laughed with wicked mirth, gliding his finger back and forth between her wet folds but never going deeper. She was soaked, worked up into a frenzy and it emboldened his ego to no end.

“I didn’t realize sucking on my cock could make you so wet,” he purred with no small amount of self-satisfaction.

His finger traced a circle along the rim of her pulsating clit, earning a high-pitched moan that shuddered out of her throat and went straight to his dick. She tried to reposition herself, needing his fingers in places they weren’t.

He grinned at her distress, earning a reproachful bite to his lower lip that did nothing to dissuade him.

“Less working your mouth and more working you – oh fuck!” Eli cried out as Astarion pushed two fingers up into her, burring them deep.

She bolted upright, arching her back as her mouth fell open and her head fell back, a slew of profane and needful curses tearing from her throat. He felt her clamp down on his fingers, hands pressing on his chest for balance as she brazenly rode his fingers.

He gazed up at her as his fingers stroked and hooked at her throbbing walls, causing little twitches and spasms to filter throughout her body. Her skin glistened in the foggy moonlight that seeped in through the walls of the tent, sweat-slicked breasts bouncing with each thrust of her hips as her head lolled, eyes shut reverently as she worked to satisfy herself. His dick bobbed against his belly with each roll of her hips, and he could feel a warm trail of precum rolling down the edge of his hip. His erection was so stiff it verged on painful, and when he felt her walls begin to flutter around his fingers, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

He pulled his hand back from within her core and the gasping whine that erupted from her lips nearly choked him.

“I’m sorry, my sweet,” he crooned, wrapping an arm around her back as he braced himself with the other and sat up. “Bear with me for just a moment. I dare not make you wait any longer.”

Astarion tipped her back and laid her down, yanking both her pants and underclothes off in a swift motion. He settled his hips between her legs, the head of his cock pressing agonizingly at her entrance.

He hovered above her for a moment, drinking her in. She was a gorgeous mess, eyes blown wide with craving and skin flushed hot and pink. Her chest was heaving as she gazed up at him with a look that would have stopped his heart if it weren’t already still. Adoration beamed back at him as she smiled and Astarion felt a twisting deep in his chest.

He knew then, with absolute certainty, that whatever was between them was so much more than anything he had planned for it to be. It terrified and amazed him. Welling up emotions within himself he wasn’t sure how to grasp or understand. He didn’t want to hide from it, though. He’d been hiding and skulking and manipulating for too long.

He wanted something more. Something real.

Astarion bent down, kissing Eli deep and longingly. Hoping that even just a shred of what he felt could be communicated through the embrace. She sighed into it, eyes closing and hands carding into his hair before they slid down to his back. He shivered as her fingers traced tenderly over the scars there, careful and deferential.

Breaking the kiss, he hooked an arm under her left leg and rested it up on his shoulder, pressing it forward and stretching her apart. Lining himself up to her warm core, he rested his forehead against her own and felt her squirm impatiently beneath him.

“Fuck, Astarion, please.”

That was all it took. He pushed inside of her, body shuddering at the enveloping and soft warmth. He felt his abdomen clench, waves of arousal rocketing down his legs and up his spine as he sank into her to the hilt. Astarion groaned, pulling back before he buried himself again, then again, then again. Eli gasped with each thrust, arching her back and angling her hips for a better position. The leg he’d pulled over his shoulder tensed and squeezed, pressing down on him as he snapped his hips up and into her. A low growl rose up, unbidden, from his throat. He was throbbing and needy and she felt so fucking good. Warm, wet and tight as he pressed into her walls and felt her contract around him. Their eyes were locked in and a rapturous shudder ran the length of his spine as Eli’s face contorted in ecstasy, her mouth opening in a silent and delirious cry.

He pulled back again. Her eyes were begging. Another thrust, making her back arch up as she bucked her hips into him, needing him deeper.

He was entranced with her face and the raw longing he saw there. He plunged in again, drawing a high squeal from her that turned into a breathy rasp as she closed around him and shook against his body. Her eyes never left his, and he drank in every mewl and cry as she looked at him with so much affection and craving that Astarion was tempted to duck his head and hide from the level of vulnerability she was giving him.

But he didn’t. Couldn’t. No one else got to see this. No one else would see Eli – hero, warrior, leader, fledgling legend that she was – shivering and squirming underneath him as he pumped into her. This was all for him, and him alone.

She was falling apart, losing herself in the thrill and the ecstasy, every sob for more spurring him on as he stared into her enthralled eyes. Her hands were everywhere, desperately running up and down and all over, clutching and pulling him closer while she pushed at the small of his back, directing his thrusting pace into one she could match with euphoria-inducing turns and twists of her hips.

The wild and undone look in her eyes coupled with the unrelenting throbbing of his cock was near enough to drive him mad. Electric jolts shot down his legs from his groin with every plunge, and his muscles felt as if they would seize at any second. It felt amazing. She felt amazing, and gods she was looking at him like he was the gravitational pull of the universe. It tore at his seams and pulled a centuries-old ache from his dead heart.

He wanted to be someone to her. Someone important. Someone she needed.

It was agonizing and frightening, that feeling. The last time he’d even remotely felt anything near to it, he’d been locked away and isolated in a coffin for over a year. Punishment for such sentimental wretchedness.

Astarion grit his teeth, clawing his way back from the memory and pushing it all down. Those were things left for later. Not now. Not when Eli was crying out and babbling about how incredible he felt, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss that he swore was going to set him on fire.

The pressure was building between his legs again as every muscle below his chest began to tense. His mind fixated on the lewd and wetly rhythmic sounds coming from between them and he could feel her slick arousal all over his groin and lower torso. His mind began fuzzing, triggered by all the erotic sounds and the building stimulation threatening to explode in his core.

He wanted this. He wanted to feel her cum beneath him. He wanted to feel himself truly and completely let go for the first time in centuries.

He pulled back from their kiss, the hair on his neck pricking in response to the small whine that left Eli’s throat as he did so.

He continued to pound into her, hard and measured, dick pulsating inside of her as the buildup became nearly unbearable. Beyond the pounding of blood in his ears he could hear himself grunting with each thrust, deep and animalistic and so fucking needy as the delirium mounted all around them.

Astarion leveled his eyes with Eli’s, face hovering above hers, and smiled at the unabated and desperate look she was giving him.

“Do you really want me that badly, darling?” he asked, panting and nearly out of his mind with wonder at the sheer amount of desire coursing between them.

There was no teasing in his question, no flirtatious overtones or hidden meanings. He needed to know.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the world narrowed.

“Gods, Astarion, I want all of you,” Eli nearly cried, arms tightening around him as she came near to climax. “Not just this,” she moaned, pressing her face into his neck as her back arched off the ground. She was shaking she was so close.

“I want you with me,” she whined into his ear and the desperation in her words was intoxicating. “In all the ways that matter,” she continued, her voice raw and teetering on the edge of bliss. “…with me. Please!”

Astarion clung to her like a man drowning, eyes closed and face pressed into her hair. The scent of her was everywhere and he reveled in the frantic intimacy of the moment, blindly grabbing at her upturned hips and bottoming out into her with a force that sent lightning zipping through his veins and stars bursting behind his eyelids.

The pressure between his legs released and Astarion came with all the subtlety of a smokepowder barrel blowing alight, all the muscles in his legs and lower torso seizing and relaxing in bursts.

“Gods, Eli. Fuck!” he cried out against her, swept up in the climax as the world fell away.

Eli followed, her inner walls contracting around him, bolstering his orgasm as she shuddered and cried out for him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed tight, wanting him full and solid as she came with him inside.

Astarion moved his hips in a circular motion, gentle and sensual, letting Eli ride out the last of her orgasm as the both of them came down. They were a tangle of arms, legs, sweat and ragged breath, neither willing to let go of the other as a hush fell over the tent. They rested in the quiet, laying in each other’s arms, content in the intimate sense of togetherness. He could feel her racing heart beat beneath her skin as he rested his head under her chin, her pulse lulling him into a comfortable daze. The scent of the blood in her veins was hot and sweet and he reveled in the thrum of life that surrounded her. A life he was growing more and more attached to…

Suddenly, Eli snorted and Astarion’s eyes snapped open curiously. He lifted his head and quirked a brow down at her as she tried and failed to suppress a fit of giggling. He tensed, unsure and more than a little confused by her bizarre response to what he thought had been a rather exhilarating experience.

She squeezed his bicep reassuringly, a delighted grin settling on her face.

“Sorry,” she laughed quietly. “I was just thinking, there’s no way anyone in this camp is still sleeping. We’re going to have to apologize in the morning.”

Astarion’s eyes softened as the corner of his mouth twitched up fondly. He then made a show of rolling his eyes before he buried his face back into her neck.

“You are quite mad, aren’t you?” he mumbled, unable to keep a smile out of his words. “I’ll go to my second grave before I apologize for what we just did.”

_______________________________

The sounds of muffled shuffling outside the tent woke Astarion the next morning. He tracked the sound with his ears, unwilling to open his eyes and rouse himself from his sleepy haze.

Eli lay pressed up against him in his arms, her head nestled near his chest. He’d pulled a blanket over them at some point during the night in an effort to retain the warmth coming off her body. Considering his undead nature, he could only sap her body heat from her, rather than contribute to it, and that fact bothered him a bit more now than it had in the past.

He traced a finger lazily across her back, feeling the ridges and divots of multiple angry scars she had no memory of earning. Eli’s body was a war story, just as damaged as her broken mind with twisted scarring and gnarled blemishes that held their secrets close. They were the remnants of a brutality that was difficult to reconcile with the person he’d come to know Eli as, and it made her all the more beautiful for it.

He didn’t mind her brokenness, and he was comforted by her imperfection. He knew all to well what it was like to be torn open over and over…

The clang of a cookpot being hoisted over the camp’s fire caused him to flinch, and Eli stirred, yawning into his bare chest.

Astarion opened his eyes, blinking as they focused in the gloom. Early morning shadows crept along the walls of the tent and he could now hear Gale’s distinct and nervous muttering as the wizard went about his morning routine, preparing coffee and some manner of breakfast near the center campfire. There was another voice, too, hushed and careful, as if the speaker didn’t want to be overhead.

“Oh, would you two stop squawking like a pair of gossipy hens!” Karlach’s voice boomed out over the hushed muttering, both scolding and amused in tone. “You both are just jealous it wasn’t either of you causing that racket last night. Hells knows I am,” she bemoaned.

“Is that what Gale and Wyll are prattling on about?” Lae’zel’s voice barked from over near her tent. “Sex can provide excellent relief from the stresses of our chaotic situation. It is both a healthy and helpful activity, though I am assuming neither of you have much familiarity with its benefits considering how you chatter like scandalized adolescents.”

Eli cut off a laugh in the back of her throat and Astarion smirked.

Gale and Wyll had begun to boisterously protest before Karlach interrupted, clearly directing her next statement in the direction of Eli’s tent.

“They might as well get out here so we can properly taunt them for not inviting any of us!”

Eli rolled onto her back then sat up, shrugging the blanket off and arching her spine in a fluid stretch, arms raised. Wordlessly, she then bent down, kissing him with a tenderness that made his chest ache, before she leaned away and stood, beginning to dress.

“Sorry, Karlach, but I draw the line at superheated engine that could melt my face off and angry unstable bomb that could level a small city when considering who I sleep with.” Eli pulled her shirt over her head and turned to wink at him before she unfastened the tent flap and stepped out into camp.

Karlach’s boisterous laughter greeted her and Astarion frowned as the tent flap fell back into place, leaving him alone with thoughts he needed to sort through.

Denial wasn’t going to work any longer. And gods, was he in trouble.

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skymagpie · 19 days ago

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I have been ranting and raving like a madwoman about BfA lately, and I have to put my thoughts into one coherent essay or I will explode

Battle for Azeroth is the original sin of everything that was wrong with Shadowlands and everything that will forever be wrong in this franchise between the Horde and Alliance. People have talked in length of the massive character assassination of Sylvanas with the Burning of Teldrassil (the original sin) so I won't go into that, but everything from that point on is a serious narrative landslide.

The Kul Tiras zone quests were good, and Zandalar is even better. The whole thing with N'zoth was great. The Fourth War storyline is absolutely irreparably terrible.

The way Jaina is written is one of the major issues with everything terrible, because this was supposed to be her moment to forgive herself, find forgiveness from her home and use her powers to fight against the rising threat through which she will finally find catharsis for her father's death and Theramore. However somewhere in the middle of those beautiful heartfelt cinematics with her mother and the beautiful animated video, we get this

This is film language to depict a villainous character. Especially when you put this shot right after the blood curdling scream of a 17-18 year old girl who just found her father dead. This is a villain shot that has nothing to do with anything else Jaina has done in the entire narrative, she is not even there in the game. But THIS is still left in.

And since my post, much like the game itself, sidelines the Horde narrative of this, lets look at the other side of the story, the one you get when you are playing Horde.

The young princess of a foreign kingdom is kidnapped by another kingdom under suspicion she might be working with the enemy. She is in fact seeking help to save her country from an artificial Old God. While escaping, there is an attempt on the princess's life. This is already something that would justify her father, the king, going to war with this kingdom - which he doesn't.

Then said kingdom invades the shores of the princess's homeland, ransacks her city and destroys sacred shrines, kills a great amount of their people and finally kills her father the king in front of her, prompting that blood curling scream as she watches him die.

And this whole story has no actual closure. The princess never gets revenge, in fact she gets to solve even more problems caused by all of this, the people that did this are never forced to face what they have done. In fact it's never brought up. It just happens.

And then you are given the chance to play as one of the people whose kingdom was ransacked and whose king was murdered. You can play a Zandalari. And you are forced to be nice to his murderers and help them out with their own problems and through their own trauma. Because we made peace now. Two huge atrocities, and now everyone is friends with each other.

This cannot happen. This should've never have happened. Burning Teldrassil shouldn't have happened, Jaina's raid on Dazar'alor should've never have happened. Fourth War was handled like dogshit and left so many problems that half of them cannot even be fixed. They are just swiped under the rug.

So don't tell me about Jaina apologism or Jaina hate, this is clearly a case where the writers were going to villainbat her, they gave up halfway, left their mess behind and now if you want to play Zandalari you have to live with the fact that there will never be any kind of narrative closure for you, that you will be friends with Jaina and that Talanji will never get an ending to her arc and any kind of catharsis.

And if you are a Jaina fan, you were robbed of some good parallels and complexity, because if this is a narrative they intended (which it isn't) and if this is a narrative you like for Jaina, its tragic that she never gets haunted by her role in the death of another girl's father, in the same story where she deals with the death of her own father. That the parallels between her and Talanji were brought up so vaguely they might as well be a mistake, and that she was the architect of creating trauma for another young woman that will most likely never even come up again, much less impact her as the empathic and kind person Blizzard is trying to revert her to.

But because none of this is intended, everything will be swiped under the rug, you will drag your Zandalari through slop Kirin Tor questlines with Jaina as if nothing happened, and if you heaven forbid like Talanji, you will just never get catharsis for her entire story.

0/10 for the Fourth War, you missed every shot you took and killed the bystanders with them.

#if you think this is jaina hate like yay for death of nuance #she is a fictional character #i am criticizing her writing #i cant hate a fictional character #battle for azeroth #dogshit plotline if I ever seen one

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reverieblondie · 1 month ago

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Cal x Lae'zel

Reuniting at Last Light.

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: I'm back on my self indulgence and geeking about my favorite crack ship again. I will never stop putting these two together. Thank you to @drizztdohurtin for letting me ramble about them in your ask box (that seems like forever ago now) And thank you @dark-and-kawaii for the pictures she took for me of them together, they are all so perfect! Please check out part one of when they met at the grove.

Cal can't help but sigh as he thinks about Lae'zel, her lovely neck, darling ears, and beautiful skin as pretty as a fresh field of spring grass. He misses it, his little escape he had with her. Though it was hard training with her, he missed it, his lungs screaming in exhaustion, and the sight of her rare small smile when he did a good job... Cal's feet continue to drag on as he thinks of her, and he silently prays that she is okay.

Rolan watches Cal's dragging figure, curious. He leans over towards Lia, "Is Cal alright? He seems sick. Do I need to tell Zevlor that we should stop and rest?"

Lia shakes her head. "I think he is missing someone. Maybe he had a crush on someone in the grove? He's been sighing all morning…"

Rolan's face contorts to one of worry before he leans in again, "You... you don't think it was Tav, do you?"

Lia just gives Rolan a small laugh before patting his shoulder.

As the Caravan moves further into the shadowlands, things become darker and darker. Then, the screams.

It's an odd feeling to have your whole life change instantly. Her life, her loyalty... Was it all a waste? Lae'zel, of course, keeps all this inner turmoil packed down, hidden under her stone wall demeanor... She had felt so sure of everything in her life, but now everything she had ever known had been ripped apart. She truly, for the first time, feels lost.

Tav her... friend? (still a foreign concept to her) has been helping her get through everything, including the creche, and the Underdark, and now is trying to talk to her about what has happened, but it's just not a clear thing to explain, the storming feelings that boil in her belly… How can she share that weakness with anyone?

Last night, when Voss appeared at their camp and revealed more truths, Tav sat with Lae'zel in silence all night, just there in case she wanted to vent. It was odd... Lae'zel appreciated Tav's act of comradery. It was a gesture of kindness that reminded her of someone... Cal...

Lae'zel would never admit that she missed Cal, but she did find that her mind would wander back to him and their last moments together. Those words of him thanking her and his foolish hope to see her again... She wanted to chastise herself for thinking such soft thoughts like some doe-eyed maiden... but the sight of his strong face lit up in the dark from the campfire, the orange glow of his eyes... and the conviction in his voice... She deep down knew that she wanted to see him again too... and she wanted him to hear her whispered admission of that...

Lae'zel scoffs to herself... What has become of her life? Getting to Last Light was a struggle, but everyone was relieved to get away from the shadows for even a semblance of sanctuary. And it turns out they were not alone.

When Lae'zel saw the tiefling refugees, she was surprised to see that some of them had even made it through the cursed lands alive. Then, she started to keep her eyes peeled for one in particular. Lae'zel had been the first to point out Rolan to Tav from his drunken ranting at the bar; Lae'zel didn't know much of the wizard besides that he was Cal's brother. Tav made a beeline towards Rolan, and Lae'zel followed, hoping to figure out what had become of Cal; she had trained him, so he had to be okay... he just had to be.....

Lae'zel Could hardly contain her rage. Rolan had explained how he had tried to save them, but they just had to play hero. He had blamed Tav, but when he described how Cal had refused to back down until he was knocked out and dragged off, she knew that was her influence upon him—never back down, never accept defeat. That fool... and now he has been taken to Moonrise Towers. He had better still be alive, or she would kill him…

Of course, Tav had vowed to Rolan to return his family, something he snappingly rejected, saying she had done enough. Lae'zel had the mind to cut his tongue off from his disrespect to her friend, but he was Cal's brother, so she decided to show leniency this once.

"I feel terrible..." Tav shuddered through tears. Everyone else had gone to camp or the forgue, leaving Lae'zel alone with the sobbing Tav in the back of the Inn.

"Poor Rolan." She kept trembling, and her tears seemed to never stop. Lae'zel rolled her eyes, still not fully understanding Tav's fascination and heartache for the rude spell caster. Lae'zel wouldn't criticize taste, however.

Taking a page from what she had observed with others, Lae'zel reached her hand out and patted Tav's back (albeit a bit harshly), but it was a gesture of consoling. Tav lifted her head, turning her puffy red, wet face to Lae'zel. The gith fought every urge not to scoff at the pathetic sight. What would Cal say?

"Do not be so pathetic. We will save the wizard's family and others. He will be forced to shamefully bite his tongue when we retrieve them."

Tav and the rest of their party had decided that it would be best to split up and cover more ground. This meant, however, that Tav, Astarion, and Shadowheart went to save the captured while Lae'zel, Karlach, Wyll, and Gale ran interference. And though on the inside, Lae'zel wanted to go down to the dungeons, she didn't dare confess to this weak desire. Her pride wouldn't allow it... or maybe she just didn't know how she would respond if she didn't see Cal.

Lae'zel rolls her eyes at herself. She has a mission; she can't be thinking this now. They need to focus on getting back to Last Light.

Everything since Tav came down to rescue them has happened so fast. From breaking out to running for their lives to climbing into the boats, it all has been a blur. But now that everyone is safe, at last, Cal feels like he can finally breathe again.

After a tearful and somewhat loud reunion with Rolan, Cal was on a mission to see someone else. He hoped to find her if she was still with the band of misfits. Cal pushed through the people reuniting with one another, keeping his head on a swivel when a little tsk-like hiss caught his attention.

There she stood, her skin perfect, her hair soft and intricately braided, and clad in her heavy silver armor. "Laezel," he can't help himself from whispering, and when he sees her delicate ears twitch and those harvest gold eyes meet his, he can't help how his heart races.

Before he can think, his feet move on their own as he runs to her; his heart is about to leap from his chest. Cal had thought of their days when they were becoming closer. He had spent restless nights dreaming of seeing her once again shining in the sun, praying to see her and get the chance to hold her in his arms.

"Lae'zel!" he cheers, holding out his arms to her as he runs closer. "I had hoped to."

But before he could hold her... Lae'zel delivered a swift punch to his thick skull.

Lia and Rolan were not the only ones to gap at the reaction, seeing Cal quickly sink to his knees and wincing in pain. Everyone paused from running over when they saw Cal chuckle with a bright smile. Lae'zel looks down at Cal with a scowl.

"You dare get caught by the likes of those scum... I should cut you down myself."

Cal keeps smiling as he looks up at her, "I knew you weren't going to be happy about that, but I also couldn't just stand and do nothing."

Lae’zel gives a short nod, "You're right. I would have been even more pissed. Now stand."

Cal, knowing better, stands abruptly to his full height. Lea'zel eyes him carefully, and with her so close, he's having to fight the urge for his tail not to sway. All at once, those feelings he's held back come boiling over, and he can't stop himself from grabbing Lae'zel and squeezing her in a tight embrace. Lae'zel's first instinct is to pull away, but she also has the urge to meet his embrace. She's unsure if it's the feel of his arms around her or the smell of his musk, but she doesn't ever want to be let go.

So, with slow, careful hands, she reaches up and returns the embrace. Though she can't help that after a minute, she's patting his back impatiently with others, maybe seeing her in a vulnerable moment.

On the other side of the room, Tav and Rolan look on in disbelief. Rolan turns to Tav, "And how long has that been going on?"

Sometime during the night, Lae'zel and Cal could avoid pring questions from their friends (and family) and managed to get where it was only them in the cold night air of the shadowlands. Of course, Lae'zel didn't mean to open up to Cal... but somehow, he always brings out the worst in her, so she gives in to her feelings and explains her journey and why she is still infected... As she spoke, she couldn't believe how open she was. She was weak and vulnerable, but as she looked up at Cal's glowing eyes, they were so steady on her... She never felt safer…

"I'm a ward of my people... I was cast out... lied to, now I'm... alone."

"Refugee..." Cal finishes her sentence. Lae'zel lifts her eyes to see that Cal is already gazing at her.

They both look away from each other bashfully; Lae'zel continues, "I have my Companions and Tav... but how could they fully understand me and my mind now…"

Cal takes in her words before an idea, "You could be with us!"

Lae'zel looks at him, confused, before he explains, "Think about it; we are not so different. We are both refugees trying to find a new home and a new purpose... and we both have cool eyes. I have ridges, and you have spots, but it decorates our skin. We both have pointed ears, though I would argue yours are far more elegant. Also, we both have sharp teeth... So would you want to join us for dinners, we usually eat lots of meats."

Lae'zels eyes widen, "Join... your family..."

Cal flushes and stammers as he explains, "Only if you wanted! You could come and go as you please, but... We would treat you kindly. I can see you and Lia being fast friends, and... Well, Rolan will be at his apprenticeship, but the two are kind of similar, rough around the edges at first but loyal."

Lae'zel tilts her head, "So you see us getting along?"

"Yes! I mean, it would be an adjustment, but it's an option for you."

Lae'zel Couldn't help but smile at the thought of finally having a choice of her own.

As the night continues and the conversation grows quiet, Lae'zel stands and says, "You should reconvene with Rolan and Lia. It's late, and you must rest."

Before she can walk away, Cal stands up and quickly grabs her hand to stop her. She would have ripped her hand away if it had been any other, but this is Cal, so she allows it.

"I know you will be cured... and I don't want you to only be a pleasant memory I think of in the late nights as I stare into the stars... I want you in my life. I will respect whatever you decide to do with your future... In my selfish hopefulness, I hope you will stay in the city with us... But If you go elsewhere, I want you to know... You can always have a place with us if you want to."

Cal leans in and kisses her cheek in soft tenderness. Lea'zel feels her cheeks redden at the mushy display, but it still stirs something in her chest.

"I will get to the Gate... and look out for you there," Cal declares.

Lae'zel shakes her head. "Your optimism is exhausting yet refreshing." She touches Cal's cheek, and he leans into her. He's so different from everyone she's encountered on this journey. She's unsure if she wants to hurt him or hold him, but she's in no place to decide now.

"This future where we meet in the city sounds pleasant... but I am unsure of my future and where I fit."

"It Should be where you want to be," Cal challenges. Lae'zel is shocked for a moment before she smiles and pats Cal's cheek. "Good night, Cal."

Cal lends his forehead to hers, a grand gesture of love and trust he wants to one day explain to her... "Good night. Lae'zel..."

"Till we meet again in Baldur's Gate."

(part 3 finding each other again in the city!!)

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 rolan #bg3 fanfiction #cal x lae'zel #reverie writes #bg3 cal #cal bg3 #lae'zel bg3 #bg3 lae'zel #lae'zel #lae'zel x cal #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 lae'zel

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graysparrowao3 · 7 months ago

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Some headcanon of Rolan, Cal, and Lia (got too excited writing it in the fic and want to share lol):

In Descent into Avernus, a group of adventurers helps (if they so choose) to free Elturel from the Hells and return it. It was Rolan's home, his family, and yet it was a complete group of strangers that show up and save the day completely independent of his actions.

This is yet another reason why he's so upset at Tav/Durge and their companions showing up in the Grove and Shadowlands and it's even more upsetting to him - literally another example of how a group of complete strangers will come to save the day, of how much of an unimportant piece of the puzzle he is, how he's never necessary in the larger plot around him - and, in his mind, by extension, to Cal and Lia.

In Descent, despite putting in every possible effort, at the end of the day some one else gets credit for saving his home and his family. The world literally almost ends around him and he's more than aware of his position as unimportant, unnecessary, in the larger hero narrative. No matter how much he tried, he wasn't even relevant enough to make it into the story, in the adventure as written, quite literally. No matter what he did, in the end, he can't help but feel -hell, know - that it didn't even matter. In spite of his efforts, he wasn't enough to make a difference. It wasn't him that saved them. He's inconsequential. Insignificant. Irrelevant.

...And then in BG3 it literally happens all over again.

#bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #bg3 cal #bg3 lia #rolan fanfic

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al9ayf · 7 months ago

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Could I request headcanons for Cal, and Geraldus finding out their f!s/o has suicidal thoughts please?

it was a little hard to do this one but i tried my best. also im so sorry for taking so long to do this request i could not think of anything!!!! but im lowkey so proud of this one.

ᥫ᭡ suicidal thoughts | cal, geraldus

｡˚ explicit content :: thoughts of suicide ofc

ʚ cal:

you and cal have been childhood friends and ended up dating each other. lia and rolan helped set the two of you up on a date after relentlessly teasing the both of you for months

everything was perfect. life was great. you and cal had a healthy relationship. you never once argued unless it was over something small or as a joke. you even thought about the idea of marriage and how amazing it would be to raise children in elturel

then the fall came, and your life drastically changed. you managed to escape with the three siblings, but in the process had to say your final goodbyes to your parents, not knowing if you would ever see them again. you were shaken and torn from the incident, but cal helped you through it. he was the most peaceful tiefling a person could know

still, his wise words and calming presence could not shake you back to reality. it was traumatizing to live through the fall, and at times you found yourself snapping at cal, only to profusely apologize to him at night with kisses. he accepts your apology every time, and it angers you how he could still be so forgiving

at the druid’s grove, rolan asked for days and days to leave for baldur’s gate. you agreed with him, and argued with cal about it. he tried to be peaceful about it while you and roman argued with lia. he tried to be the mediator. he was always the one in this group to keep tensions low but it was not working. finally, when the group of adventurers managed to convince you and rolan to stay did the arguments come to an end. and again, you apologized to cal who admitted to you that it hurt him how you were being so cruel. you were not the only one to lose everything during the fall of elturel

on the road to baldur’s gate, you were ambushed by the cultists. you tried to protect cal but you took a slash to the back of your knee. rolan saved most of the group, but could not fend off the cultists for long. he picked you up and ran, while you screamed for cal

while rolan drank himself away at the bar in last light inn, you rotted away in a bed with bandages on your knee. you were advised not to walk for a little while since the cuts were deep. but you could not care. cal and lia were gone. the love of your life was gone. how could such an amazing person’s life be taken away just like that? what you would do to hear his sweet voice one more time

rolan comes to you at night and sits at the edge of your bed. he is drunk and rambling. he yells and kicks, but you lay on your side and stare at the wall while crying silent tears. he fills it in your head that they are both dead. that you will have no children. that you will never know a smile again in your life. he does that every night and then passes out on the floor beside you to make sure you do not die as well. but rolan does not know how you wish to die

finally, when you are able to walk again, you go outside to relish in the cold air. your eyes are dry and your lips are cracked. you refuse to eat and drink little water. cal is gone. most of your friends are gone. rolan will die by drinking himself away and there is no possible way to leave the shadowlands alive. you wish to see cal one more time

each step you take towards the darkness is a step to cal. his sweet words of comfort is all you wish to hear. you are blinded by false images of him beckoning you outside of the globe of light protecting the inn. yet before you can even exit, you feel somebody stopping you. it is rolan, and he yells at you. you tell him you wish to die. that no life is worth living after what has happened to all of you

“have you no wish to see your sister and brother again?! their bodies gone, but their souls live! if i can give up life to see cal again, i will give it up a thousand times over. don’t you want to see them, rolan? don’t you?”

he does not reply. he gets mad and runs back inside the inn back to the bar. you rush after him, only to stop when you see the adventurers with a group of tieflings and gnomes. you hear familiar voices and see a pair of familiar horns

cal comes rushing to you, embracing you and kissing you. you are too stunned to speak or move. you do not return his kisses. he is alive. and just as you were about to give up yours, he has returned to you in the flesh. you cry into his arms and fall to the floor with him

cal knows that you are happy to see him again, and he expects prayers and praises but all you tell him is how you had almost killed yourself to see him again. you thought him dead, and yet here he was. cal breaks at your words

he starts to cry too, and hugs you tightly. he curses himself for getting kidnapped and for not being able to protect you. but at least he has come back just in time to save you. he cried with you, and promises that with the help of the adventurers, the both of you will live a promising life in baldur’s gate

ʚ geraldus:

you and geraldus met before you two became harper’s. it was love at first sight. for years you have dated now, and geraldus was hoping to propose after the cult of the absolute would be defeated. the both of you were strong, and with jaheira and her companions by your side, the possibilities of a victory against the cult was high

while in baldur’s gate, jaheira ordered to find the rashemaar. it took days before you could even find a lead, but within those days geraldus started to get on your nerves. he was supposed to lead this group to prove his worth as a harper. but he has done no such thing. you see the fear in those eyes. and there is nothing you hate more than fear

you argued with him about it. he needed to get it together or everything would go to shit. if he were to hesitate for even a moment, he would get killed. geraldus stuttered while trying to promise you that such a thing wouldn’t happen, yet it only angered you more. you did not sleep with him that night. instead, your last words to him before you left to sleep at an inn was “you are too weak to be a harper. maybe it is best you return home, geraldus.”

the next morning you returned to the camp to the sight of a bloodbath. the bhaalists had come and taken everybody, and you were the only one left. you hurled at the sight of the bhaal symbol painted with blood of what you immediately assumed to be geraldus’. he was taken and killed. you threw up some more and cried

you are a harper. you must remain strong. but the death of your beloved hung in the air, and the stench of iron overwhelmed you. you felt like shit. you had told him to basically fuck off and left him all alone. you could have protected him. you could have died with him. but you left. this was your fault

you cried and cried, but then left to find jaheira in the city. your heart has been shattered. but you promised yourself one thing. once you help jaheira, you will reunite with geraldus wherever he may be. his laughter rings in your ears, and even the sight of a man with black hair tricks your mind into thinking it is him. though it is not. you will never see him again for as long as you live, and that thought shatters your broken heart into even more pieces

after meeting jaheira at entharl's shop, you alerted her to what has happened, and almost broke down in tears if it wasn’t for her contradicting you. she said that she had received a letter recently from geraldus to meet here and speak about the rashemaar, and you tell her that is not possible. it must be a doppelgänger. she says you shall find out right now

after coming face to face with “geraldus” and the group of harper’s you were with, you quickly were enraged. his eyes were teary and worrisome at the sight of you

“you hide underneath your cloaks and wear the skin of people we love! have you not once felt the touch of the sun or the kiss of a loved one?! do you not remember what it feels like to be loved?! do you despise me so that you wear the skin of my partner?!”

“geraldus” stumbles over his words and tries to clam you down. he does not know what to say to convince you to believe that it is him and that he has lived. but you are already crying and shaking your head. you yell at him and say that you shall meet with the real geraldus soon after you kill them all. that you have thought about a hundred different ways how you will end your life and these bhaalists. they will not take you

yet when he speaks the words “may selûne’s tears shine on this meeting” only then do you know it is the real him

after killing the doppelgänger’s and reuniting with geraldus, he is the first to cry. he admitted that he hesitated when the group came to kill the harper’s, and that he was glad you were not there to witness it. he cannot blame you for thinking that he had died, for he would have done the same thing. a life without you is a life not worth living. he has envisioned a life with children with you. you are the only one that he wants, the only one that he needs. and he would rather die if a bhaalist took that away from him

you kiss and hug him, all while jaheira begs the both of you to rest

#bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 angst #bg3 #bg3 cal #bg3 geraldus #cal x tav #cal x reader #geraldus x tav #geraldus x reader #harper geraldus #bg3 fanfiction

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bhaalbabebardlock · 9 months ago

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I wrote a drabble for the first time. 🧎

This is surprisingly difficult for me to do because I always want to talk for five years or if I'm writing something short it's an Ilara related cliffhanger. Anywayyyys.

Astarion x reader (gn)

504 words

Astarion Has A Nightmare

Time feels different, down here in the dark. You weren't entirely sure if you liked it at first, you said you did because the alternative option was maddening. Nothing you'd done would have mattered if it meant losing him in the end. After everything he did for you, and everything you'd done for him- it was a silly notion to ever think you might abandon him. You could still see that look of worry, that shift into wonder and acceptance as he smiled back at you that day you ran after him on the docks, throwing your own cloak over his head. Nothing else mattered. Not then, not now. You shifted slowly, gently, to see Astarion laying in the bed next to you. He was always beautiful, but especially in the dim glow of the candlelight, shadows dancing off his torso and the sheets tangled around his waist. The way his mouth hung slightly open, his arm draped over his eyes. Watching him sleep peacefully has become one of your favorite things. His nights were rarely restless anymore, not like they were while you cavorted through the shadowlands and the underdark, not like that night he killed Cazador. It was less often now. That didn't mean it never happened though. He twitched, only a marginal flick of his fingers, a small shift in the sleight of his open mouth. And you knew. You leaned forward slowly, cautiously reaching out a hand and setting your warm palm against his chest, not flinching when his hand lashed out and closed those cold fingers around your wrist. Waiting. As his eyes quickly opened, nostrils flaring, chest heaving until his eyes stop on you. His fingers loosen just slightly from their grip. He probably bruised you. You don't really care. It must have been bad this time. “Astarion?” You wait a moment, not moving. Familiar with this routine. Giving him time to wake up fully, still his heartbeat. Waiting as the seconds tick by until he pulls your hand over his heart, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh. “I was there again.” You shift just slightly closer, resting your other hand on his chest now too, pressing your skin against his. Waiting. “The screams. Sometimes it's like I never left.” You wished you could carve that pain out of him, take it from the runes etched into his back and imprinting on his mind. Ribbon into pieces all the shredded shrapnel of his fear and regret and every bad thing that had ever happened to him. He didn't deserve it. You leaned forward slowly, scooting up and laying your head against his chest, listening to his soft exhale of breath as he begins carding his fingers through your hair.

“Stay like this for a moment, won't you?” Of course. You'd stay forever if it would make him feel better. If you could soothe his aches. You would give anything to make his hurt go away.

“Of course, Astarion. I'll stay for as long as you need me.”

#drabble #Astarion x reader #p #goodnight now

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bhaalbaaby · 1 year ago

Note

Can I absolutely ask about a breeding fic?

Title: Waves Rush Over (3059 words) Pairing: halsin/f!reader Warnings: breeding kink, slight size and scent kink, praise kink, daddy halsin, fluff and smut, pwp A/N: sorry for the delay 🥹 life keeps happening lol hope you like it

Read on AO3!

Halsin's hands are just one feature you like about him. They tell his stories in more ways than his words. There are callouses and scars, scratches, and are heavy as he rests his hand on your waist and thighs when you sit on his lap. His knuckles can be rougher than bark, especially during the cold. You keep a jar of soothing balm near you at all times to help his cracked skin. Halsin stoically smiles as you apply it, nagging him to take better care of his skin. The children also mimic it, some asking you for mini jars so they can give them to Daddy Halsin if they notice his dry skin.

Those hands hold many tiny ones at once throughout the day. When his charges are not playing with Thaniel and Oliver, they find Halsin when he's not busy. While his hands are wisened by his years, his features soften. You notice a month after arriving in the former Shadowlands.

If a child isn't adjusting well, Halsin can sense it. He doesn't make the child feel singled out. You catch it once with a young halfling. He kneels in front of them, speaking soft healing words. You can't imagine the trauma the child has seen as you hear the small sniffles escape the even smaller body. Halsin then engulfs them in a hug, cradling the child until they fall asleep. You don't interrupt as you watch, your heart skipping over itself.

Though you have many children who claim you as their new parent, you could see Halsin holding your baby just like this, just as soft. You sigh as you finally leave the sweet scene. If it doesn't happen right away, you'll be fine. There's always the act of making one.

Halsin knows your body on a molecular level. You wonder if he can read your thoughts when he brings you tea when you're tired, medicine for pain during that time of the month. You notice the times when your hormones are peak that he's friskier. Kisses in the storage closets, his hands exploring your body while you try to cook. Sex happens still but there's never enough time to enjoy it, to indulge like you could before returning to Reithwin. Halsin can feel your frustrations, his little gestures easing some of them.

As you're helping serve dinner, he rests his hand on your waist, distracting as ever. You stand up straighter, the bowl of sweet greens from the garden on your waist. "May I help you, Daddy Halsin?" You ask, feigning annoyance in front of the children who giggle.

The corners of Halsin's lips curl up slightly as he nods. "Let me take over, my heart. I have a special job for you." Your ears prick up, letting him take the bowl from your hands.

He leans closer than he needs to, whispering in your ear. "Go to the kitchen. I'll be there shortly." You do as you're told, mostly wanting to behave for whatever he has planned for you.

Luckily, your wait isn't long. Halsin puts the bowl on the counter, shaking his head. "These children are growing stronger every day. Good thing for us our harvests have been bountiful." He glances over at you through his dark lashes.

You look away, heat creeping around your collar as you nod. "Yes, the land has blessed us. I hope they never want for nothing."

Halsin steps closer, tilting your chin up to him. You forget how big he is sometimes, the way he towers over you. He presses his lips against yours, pulling away when one of the volunteers comes in to get another bowl of food for the children. They snicker as Halsin still holds you in his arms. "Perhaps we should go somewhere more private," Halsin suggests.

You tilt your head to the side, "Wait, you didn't tell me what my job would be." You interject, gripping his leathery tunic.

"Ah, that." He smirks as he glances towards the door. "In all honesty, there isn't any new charge for you. Well, not yet." He clears his throat. "You're in heat."

Your eyebrows shoot up to your forehead at his blunt statement. "In heat? I'm not like an animal, Halsin," You giggle, his hands sliding from your waist to your ass.

"Not the same intensity as a bear, but I can smell it. When you bent over..." He closes his eyes, breathing deeply. "Your smell is intoxicating. I can barely focus, Tav. All I can think of is taking your body and watching you swell." You feel hot prodding on your stomach, proof that Halsin is telling the truth. He can't go back out there in this state.

"Poor bear," You coo as he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. He exhales, growling softly. "I need you, Tav. Now," He growls, pawing you closer. Pressure builds between your thighs as you start to ache for him. If he doesn't move you now, he'll be forced to take you to the kitchen. You hope the cooks don't mind the clattering of pots and pans.

Halsin picks you up with ease as he leads you into his private room on the main floor. He sleeps in here when bedtime stories go on forever and the stairs are daunting so he says. You don't mind it as he shuts and locks the door. He barely gives you time alone as he sweeps you up in a passionate kiss, your breathing becoming one. You smell the woodsy musk and mint on his breath as your tongues intertwine. He groans, his arms wrapping around your waist, keeping your body flush against his. You close your eyes as you stand on your tiptoes, trying to keep up as he sways, getting lost in the kiss. You pull away, searching for breath as his lips travel down your neck, his hands searching as if trying to pull you even closer, melt you into him. The kisses continue down your chest as you fumble with your top, trying to free your skin from his lips.

He ignores the attempts as he gets on his knees. He stares up at you, his breathing heavy. "You are beautiful, my love." You laugh softly as you pull your restraints from your body, finally topless. You can't think of anything to say back feeling dizzy.

Halsin buries his face between your thighs, inhaling your arousal. You hold your breath, his face and breath warm. Each inhale causes you to throb more as you swallow hard. He sits back on his knees, smirking as he spreads your legs. You've seeped through your pants, the mark is more obvious as he stares. Without a second thought, he leans forward, his tongue slowly swiping up. Your moan catches in your throat, trying to stay quiet. Halsin continues regardless, his tongue swirling on the darkening spot on your pants. Your legs tremble as he teases you, his hands slipping from your thighs to resting on your ass to keep you standing. You bite your lip, massaging your sensitive nipples. Each tweak makes your hips jolt away from his mouth causing a dissapproving growl from Halsin. He pulls away, his eyes between your pants and your flushed face.

"Do not hold yourself back, my love. You surely aren't down here," He whipsers, as he drags your ruined clothes down. You try your best to kick them off, but they get stuck on your heel. You're grateful Halsin is on his knees as he carefully slips the fabric over your feet, tossing them away. He chuckles, his hazel eyes darken as he drags his fingers over your thighs.

"The thought of you dripping with me is too much to bear." His breathing becomes more pronounced as he speaks, his mouth waters.

"I can't take much more waiting." You say, your senses awakening as your nose pricks.

He doesn't need more encouragement to give in to his temptations. You lean back into the wall as his tongue laps at your folds, his hands keeping your legs firmly apart. You finally audibly moan as you watch him feast, his tongue flicking at your clit. His lips wrap around it, suckling the nerves. Your toes curl as his tongue continues its lithe licks. The sensations are overwhelming as you reach for something other than his hair to grab onto.

He buries his tongue between your folds as you grip his broad shoulders, moaning out as he presses you against the wall. He bobs his head back and forth, his tongue thrusting in and out of your dripping sex. His hands massage your ass as you tremble, feeling so weak each time his tongue enters, swirling around. You can barely say his name, your mouth unable to form words, thoughts barely forming beside the pressure building in your stomach. He glances up at you, his tongue dragging up to your swollen clit.

You curse, your hips jutting against the druid's face. He presses your hips against his hungry mouth as he suckles your clit, groaning as you writhe, trying to move away from the immense pleasure. He removes his mouth, raising his eyebrow as you gaze down at his face, panting as you try to catch your breath in this moment of reprieve.

"You are sweeter than any honey, my heart. Please, sing to me." He says as he guides your hips back to him, his mouth quickly finding your swollen button and making acquaintances as he flicks and swirls his tongue around it.

"I can't take this much longer." You cry out as your legs rest on his shoulders, wrapping around his head. He moans in response, his head rocking up and down as his tongue guides up from your entrance to your clit and back down, his nose pressed against your clit.

You're on the verge of exploding when you feel his thick finger prod at your hole his tongue making its way back to your clit. You gasp as he thrusts in, your stomach tightening. You try to run away again, but his other hand is firm on your backside. His gorgeous eyes glance up at you watching the ecstasy paint your face as he quickens his pace.

He pulls away briefly, licking his lips. "The way you squeeze around my finger... I can only imagine how you'll feel around my cock, accepting my seed." You massage your breasts again, wincing as you rock your hips with his digit, feeling so close.

"Please," You beg, not wanting to come from his mouth and fingers. You crave his cock more than ever.

He smiles as he carefully removes your legs from his shoulders. His hand however doesn't leave between your thighs, his middle finger thrusting inside and claiming your hole for him. You try to squeeze your legs together to minimize the gushing noises that escape to no avail.

He chuckles as he looks down, "Dripping to the floor. You are quite the sight." You glance up at him, pouting that he hasn't fucked you yet. He leans down kissing you breathless. Your head swims as you gain autonomy of your hands, reaching for his breeches and tugging them down. His heavy cock springs out, searching for your heat. You wrap your hands around his girth while his tongue and yours dance. You love how you taste on him, the essence of your arousal only adding to his delicious taste.

He pulls away, growling. His eyes are shut tight. "I must have you now." You wonder if the wall would give if he wild shapes into a bear now, but the thought fades as he picks you up, guiding your hips up to his cock. You wrap your arms around his neck, peppering kisses on his jaw as his hands sink your hips on his thick member. You rest your damp forehead against his jaw as you moan, your breathing ragged. You try not to give into the pleasure right away, your hole quivering as he slowly thrusts inside.

"Oak Father bless me." He moans, his fingers digging into your soft skin as he picks up his pace. You rest back on the wall as you attempt to watch him. His leather tunic is still on, not like he cares. You drag your fingers down his chest, panting. "You're amazing," Halsin moans with a small breathless laugh. He leans closer using the wall as leverage as he picks up his pace, filling you the brim with each thrust. You can't keep your moans down, pleasurable cries escaping your body as your cunt weeps for him.

"Fill me up please, my love. Breed me." You moan, resting your forehead against his. He groans at the statement, smirking as he bounces your body on his cock. "Oh, my heart. I will. Your womb will only know my seed." His mouth sloppily kisses yours, the wet sounds each time his cock fills your hole music to both of your ears. You whimper feeling his balls smack against your ass, his cock pressing deep inside.

His hands wrap around your hips, the extra force of his grip sending pleasure pangs throughout your whole body. You both need this. Your hips seize up as you push his cock out, the knots in your lower stomach too much to bear. He rubs his cock against your slit and cock as you stiffen in his hands, and goosebumps rush from your head to your toes. He chuckles as the orgasm ripples through you. "Such a beautiful sight." He whispers before gathering you up.

He carries you to your bed, the frame sinking as he climbs on top of you, his legs pushing yours up. He runs his hand down your neck to your hips, keeping you still as he slowly thrusts inside. You reach behind your head for the pillow, mewling as his cock claims you. Your mind clouds with only thoughts of him as he continues with his previous pace, pounding you into the bed. The bed is less forgiving, the squeaking and headboard hits against the wall with each thrust. You don't mind the extra noise as your nails dig into the feather-down pillow, fingertips pricked by the calamus.

He leans down, his intoxicating kiss taking over your senses again as he presses against your c-spot. You can feel his cock pulsating with each thrust, his grunts more pronounced. "Ah, I'm so close, my heart."

You whimper as you kiss him in response, your teeth dragging on his bottom lip. "Claim me, my body is yours." You moan as you let go of the pillow. Your hands meet as he presses your wrists down against the bed. He leans up, the headboard erratic as his face contorts, his hips flush with yours as he explodes. The feeling of his emission inside drives you over the edge again, your eyes closed tight as you cry for him.

His nose is stuffy as he breathes through his nose, trying to calm down. He keeps his cock inside of you as he sits back, rubbing your clit. You close your thighs together, his other hand rubbing his shaft. "Every drop belongs to you," He whispers as you clench around his softening member. You sit up on your elbows, rocking your hips against his. He laughs softly, his hand leaving his cock on your waist.

"I'm not as young as I feel." He admits. You roll your eyes as he readjusts, letting you ride him.

"I want every drop," You purr, bouncing your ass against his thighs.

He practically tears his shirt off as he throws it on the floor. "You may have it," Halsin replies, spreading your ass as you ride. "The need to breed you..." He lies back against the bed, spreading his legs slightly to give himself more leverage. You can feel his shaft harden, ready for more as he hits your spot once more.

Your legs tremble as you rock your hips. "I want it. I want to be your breeding whore." You moan as he takes over your pace, thrusting hard into you, his arms wrapping around your torso to hold you down.

You can't handle the immense pleasure that erupts throughout your body, your moans turning into breathless screams. "That's it. Good girl..." Your nostrils flare at the nickname, driving you insane.

"Please, Halsin, fill me." You pant, before biting and sucking his neck.

His growl vibrates in your mouth as he holds his hips against yours for a moment before picking up his speed again. He curses under his breath as his thrusts are more reckless, the familiar pulsing filling your hole as you throb around him, so close to another orgasm. His hand leaves your waist, finding your hair, tugging your face to his. "I love you," He groans, holding your face in place before Mount Halsin erupts again, overwhelming your cunt as his thrusts slow to sharp and precise ones. His moans are better than any song you've ever heard as he coaxes you to orgasm making you join him in a hueless haze.

You roll off him, breathing heavily. He sits up slightly as your legs spread, his seed seeping out. "Such a delicious sight. Had I more energy, I'd pound it back into you. Not one drop wasted." He remarks, ignoring the heat that comes to your cheeks. He leans over, suckling your nipple.

"Halsin," You whimper, your body a live wire. He pulls away with a small pop.

"The night is still young... I will get us some food and we'll dine up in our room."

You raise your eyebrow at the implication. He smiles as he slips off the bed. "We'll need some energy if we are to continue."

"Continue?" You ask coyly as you roll to your side.

He nods. "You will be thoroughly bred tonight, Tav." He grabs his pants and his ripped shirt from the floor. He nods at the door next to the bed. "That door leads to a secret staircase to our bedroom. Do not put anything on. I want you as you are. Just as nature intended."

You giggle as you slowly get off the bed, your legs not quite ready. "Do not keep me waiting." You say with a wink before disappearing up the staircase, excited for what the night will bring.

taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @tragedybunny @astarionsbeloved @thedancingbun @razrogue @celestialomlette @rentheannihilator @rinmoon7

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 spoilers #bg3 tav #nsft #writing #writing requests #asks #halsin x tav #halsin x reader #halsin baldur's gate 3 #halsin bg3 #halsin #requests

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