thiriann - Tumblr blog

thiriann · 17 days ago

Text

Ink - Chapter 2 out of 5

You can also find me on AO3

Link to Chapter 1

Rating: Explicit

Words: 3.1k

Pairing: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character

Warnings: Named Tav , Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Divergence,Eventual Smut,Lawyer Astarion ,Astarion Being Astarion, Flirting, Getting to Know Each Other, Smut in later Chapters

A prequel to my Eggplant Emoji adult mini comic

Summary:

As she stands to lead him downstairs, a sudden hiss from Astarion startles her.

"Oh, shit," he mutters, scrambling to gather his papers.

“What-?” Thiriann starts but Astarion is already a flurry of motion rushing towards her office break room.

“I'm just going to borrow your kitchen darling. If he asks about me- tell him nothing!”

Before she can question him, an unknown man walks in the office looking around with a searching gaze clearly unfamiliar with the surroundings. He seems significantly older than her, with a darker complexion and a somewhat worn brown suit.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Thiriann walks briskly through the park, hands in her pockets, hugging her purse tightly by her side. The sun has long since set, and thick darkness has enveloped the city. She curses herself internally for being late as the autumn air and fear chill her to the bone.

The park is quiet, save for the clicking of her heels on the paved road, yet she can't shake the feeling that someone is watching her. She looks around, her darkvision making it easy to make out the shapes of benches and trees, but there is nothing else. Regardless, she hurries up, practically sprinting until she finally spots her office building, its bright light glowing like a beacon in the night.

A feeling of safety engulfs her as she walks into the familiar space and heads to hang up her coat.

"Ah, hello." An awkward greeting comes from behind her, making her almost jump out of her skin.

She whips her head to see Gale, one of the daytime workers.

"S-sorry," he stammers. "It was not my intention to frighten you."

"That's quite alright," she answers, even if her voice is rather shaky.

Gale often stays behind after his shift to chat, mostly about books. He is a friendly sort, if not slightly condescending at times.

"I noticed you left a thriller novel on your desk. Is that a genre you particularly enjoy?"

"Uh, yeah, I suppose. It’s a new release, and I like reading during my break sometimes." But it will definitely not be read tonight, not with her still spooked from earlier.

"I once read a book that explained in some detail the effect a brush with danger has on one’s desire for other forms of stimulation. Have you ever read anything on that subject?"

Gale’s voice slowly fades in the background as Thiriann notices Mr. Ancunin stroll into the office. Her breath catches in her throat at the casual beauty he is exhuming.

"Uh-huh." She nods, unable to take her eyes off the gorgeous elf even for a moment. "Good evening, Astarion," she says politely as he approaches them.

"It is now that I can see you, my dear." He greets her as flirtatiously as ever, a smooth smile on his face. “And who might this be?”

"Astarion, this is Gale. He works in our printing department. Gale, this is Astarion Ancunin," she introduces them quickly before motioning to her desk. "Please have a seat. Thank you for stopping by, Gale."

"Right. Of course." Gale answers with a stiff tone, irritation underlying his voice. "It was nice making your acquaintance." He nods in Astarion's direction.

"The pleasure was all mine," Astarion responds in a low tone, eyeing him up and down.

Thiriann blinks, a little taken aback. Then she rolls her eyes. Of course he'd flirt with anything that moved. With those captivating eyes and his rakish charm, he’s undoubtedly a serial heartbreaker.

"I do so hope I didn't interrupt anything," Astarion speaks up suddenly with a poorly attempted innocent tone.

"No, of course not," she says quickly, perhaps too quickly. "Gale’s just a coworker."

"Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. He looked positively crestfallen to have his sad flirting attempts interrupted."

"Flirting? No, that wasn’t…"

But she stops herself. Is it? Their interactions typically revolve around book recommendations and their time in the academia of magic. He offered once to refresh their spell-casting skills together for old times' sake, but she never took him up on it. Perhaps her ability to read social cues has grown a bit rusty.

She coughs awkwardly before trying to change the subject.

"What can I help you with today?"

“Just these, if you could be so kind.” He says with practiced nonchalance as he hands her another two pages of handwritten orders.

She sighs, a chuckle escaping her lips. Of course he'd be incorrigible. "Well then. Shall we?" she asks, gesturing for him to follow her downstairs.

As the elevator door closes, she glances awkwardly to the side, unsure of what to say. He shifts his weight, leaning on one hip, and the casual motion instantly captures her attention.

Suddenly, the tiny elevator jolts to a stop, the lights turn off and the soothing music fades into an eerie silence.

“Shit.” She mutters, pressing the emergency button. "I'm so sorry about this, Astarion. We sometimes have power outages at night. It might take a while to come back on.”

To her surprise, his expression of mild annoyance transforms into amusement as he meets her gaze.

In the almost complete darkness they're in, her face is illuminated by the striking blue glow of her eyes in what would be a terrifying picture were it not for the rather adorable pout on her lips.

The contrast between the demonic and the endearing is too great and he lets out a chuckle before he can help himself.

“What?” She asks puzzled.

"Forgive me, darling," he replies, his voice low and smooth. "I was merely captivated by the brilliance of your eyes, so radiant and ethereal that they can outshine all the moonstones of Evereska.”

She stares, stunned for a moment, before an inelegant snort escapes her. "Was that one of your original creations, or did you steal it from one of our magazines?”

She giggles, watching his expression turn dumbfounded. "I assure you, my lines are all original, darling," he huffs, a touch of pride in his voice. "Most of them, at least.”

"And do they actually, you know, work?" she questions, raising an eyebrow.

“They haven't failed me yet.”

She still looks way too unconvinced for his liking.

"Why don't I show you just how well they work?" he suggests, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"And how would you do that?" she asks, intrigued.

"Let's pretend we're out for a drink, a rich red perhaps," he begins.

“I prefer coffee actually.”

He huffs and makes a disgusted face but continues, "Coffee then. We're seated across from each other, but just close enough for no one else to hear us. Now you're all mine and I'm all yours. Until the end of our date at least.”

She swallows but tries not to let it show that his words are already affecting her.

Astarion leans in, leaving just the bare amount of space between them to pass as decent and the subtle scent of bergamot and brandy fills her senses along with something entirely unfamiliar.

“Even the songs of the Harpies pale in comparison to the sweet sound of my name, spoken by your lips.”

She has to admit, even with that cheesy line, his voice sends a shiver up her spine.

"Is that the best you can do?" she challenges, trying to mask her growing anticipation.

“Ah, you need a bit of enticing. Let me see…”he replies, undeterred. “How about this one: Every part of your perfect body whispers temptation as if the gods themselves made you to ruin me.”

Thiriann clears her throat, her voice slightly husky. "You're sweet, and a little sillier than I thought."

“I could go all night with the flattery but is that all you want?” he asks, bending just enough to show her the beautiful lines of his clavicle.

“How about if I said these little words…Everyone's favorite…” he whispers, his breath fanning her ear “I want you.”

Her breath hitches, her heart thrumming so hard she wonders if he can hear it.

He pulls back just a fraction to study her reaction, and she chances a glance at his face. A look of pure hunger greets her, eyes shining with an intensity that leaves her breathless, and for a moment she feels desperate to give in to it.

"Hello?" a voice crackles over the intercom. "Is anyone there? This is Gale from the Waterdeep department.”

Thiriann practically jumps, rushing to the elevator controls. "Gale? Oh, thank goodness you haven't left yet. We're stuck. Could you turn on the emergency power?"

“Yes, of course, right away.”

The lights flicker back on, and Thiriann turns to Astarion awkwardly. He stands confidently, a self-satisfied smirk curving his lips.

"Oh, don't look so smug. I'm still convinced I read at least two of those in our last issue of Cosmopolitan," she teases.

"Darling, I would never," he feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart.

Thiriann searches the warehouse, her voice echoing through the empty space. "Did you say 'His Holy Blood, Volume 3'?"

"Volume 2, dear, but you might as well grab the third," Astarion replies, his voice oddly distant.

Looking around she notices he's begun to wander around, picking through different items, inspecting each one before tossing them carelessly to the side. She probably should tell him not to touch but something is telling her it won't do much to stop him.

Instead, her attention is drawn to his hands. His fingers are long and slender, moving with an unfair grace, expertly toying with each item, rolling and spinning it so fast she can barely track it, can’t even make sense of how he's doing it. She should be annoyed but instead feels mesmerized by the motions.

"Like what you see, darling?" he asks, a smug confident smile on his lips and a predatory look in his eyes.

Flustered, she stammers, "I'm just... glad you're interested in our products."

"Oh, I'm very interested," he purrs. "Positively tempted, in fact."

Gods, the flirting. It is so over-the-top and inappropriate, yet she feels her traitorous body flush with heat.

Pushing down the embarrassment, she brings the things over and notices he's actually added a few items to the cart himself. Mostly books, a couple of bedazzled pens, and one of their fancier paper cutters.

A particular title catches her eye: "The Bhaal Cult Resurgence" by Devella Fountainhead.

"This just came in last week," she says. "Expected to be a big hit."

"Hmm, yes. Devella is quite the master of the macabre."

"You like crime fiction? Doesn't it get... old, considering your line of work?" she asks, curious.

"Nonsense. A good murder is always entertaining."

"What does a 'good murder' even mean?" she blurts out before she can stop herself.

He doesn’t seem fazed by her tone and instead continues cheerfully, a playful glint appearing in his eyes. "There are some lovely ways to go. Knives, poison, strangulation—whatever you'd prefer."

"I'd prefer not to die," she retorts, a touch of humor in her voice.

"Well, now you're just being close-minded. Come on, humour me. If you had to choose…”

It isn't lost on her that this is a rather strange topic to be discussing alone in a warehouse with a man she barely knows. The casual way he talks about murder combined with his dangerous smile is making her slightly uneasy. But perhaps that is his goal in the first place.

She straightens up anyway and thinks about the answer, refusing to fall victim to his intimidation.

“Poison, then. It should be painless at least.” she concludes confidently.

“A fine choice! If a little bland. Although there are some very innovative poisons these days, I can think of some made from nightshades that are deliciously fatal. If they're mixed well, you'll close your eyes and drift away just like falling asleep. And if they're not…” he trails off for a second before adding cheerfully “well, you’d most likely die horribly.”

“Right.” She says, eyeing him before shuddering. "How about you? “How would you like to go?"

For a second she asks herself why she’s even trying to keep this conversation flowing. When he opens his mouth she remembers instantly - his voice is breathtaking.

“I don't think poison is for me. Nor stabbing, come to think of it.” something melancholic flashes across his face so fast she thinks she's imagined it before he continues “I've always felt decapitation was a fine choice. One good swing and then - nothing.”

The eerie conversation continues as they walk back, a strange blend of dark humor and macabre fascination. Thiriann can’t help but be drawn to his morbid curiosity, a dangerous allure that she can't quite resist.

As Thiriann hastily packs her belongings, eager to return home after a productive day, Shadowheart approaches her with an expression that's a mix of curiosity and concern.

"What did you talk about? “ She asks nosily, crossing her arms over her chest, "You and the pale fellow?"

"He was just ordering office supplies," Thiriann replies, mentally adding, "A ton of them."

"I'd be careful around him if I were you," Shadowheart starts with an unusually snarky tone.

"Why?" Thiriann inquires, perplexed.

"There are always rumors about him.” Shadowheart continues, voice laced with disdain “That he manipulates and sleeps with people to get an advantage in his cases, that he seduces opposition lawyers for an easy win, some say he's a vampire and threatens them if all else fails."

"You do realize how ridiculous that sounds, don't you?" Thiriann retorts.

"I'm just trying to warn you," Shadowheart insists, getting increasingly irritated. "He's bad news, and I don't want things to get messy."

"It's fine, Jen. I can handle him. He's just a client," Thiriann tries to assure her but the half-elf walks away anyway, visibly upset.

Watching Shadowheart retreat, Thiriann sighs. She knows her friend means well and is always skeptical of new people, but she can't help but feel a little annoyed.

Astarion returns to the office a couple of days later, his order list significantly shorter than usual. It's still handwritten, but to Thiriann's surprise, she finds herself oddly pleased at the prospect of spending more time with him.

As she stands to lead him downstairs, a sudden hiss from Astarion startles her.

"Oh, shit," he mutters, scrambling to gather his papers.

“What-?” Thiriann starts but Astarion is already a flurry of motion rushing towards her office break room.

“I'm just going to borrow your kitchen darling. If he asks about me- tell him nothing!”

"Can I help you?" Thiriann asks, startling him as he hadn't noticed her yet.

"Ah, yes, pardon my intrusion miss." The man smiles in a gentle manner that makes her strangely at ease.

He approaches her desk, his eyes still darting around the room and Thiriann notices the strong, almost unpleasant scent of his cologne. She subtly distances herself, her nose wrinkling slightly.

"I'm looking for Astarion Ancunin," he says, his voice smooth and calm. "I understand he's a frequent customer here."

His bold and unexpected question in comparison to his disarming appearance catches her off guard.

"We can't disclose our clients' personal information sir." she says sternly despite the cold chill that runs down her spine.

He smirks. "Ah, so it's true he frequents here."

Thiriann clenches her fists, his unnerving tone setting her teeth on edge.

“I think I don’t need to tell you how inappropriate this is. If you’re not interested in purchasing office supplies, I think it’s best if you leave.” she snaps.

The man's expression turns serious. "Right, right, of course. But let me assure you I wouldn't bother you with this if it wasn't an absolutely urgent matter. “

"I really can't help you," she says, unrelenting.

"I see. Well, if you do happen to meet him, please give me a call. It's for his own good."

He gives her a little card that has a company name she doesn't recognize and little else except a phone number. Mercifully, he leaves, and she lets out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

"Please tell me you don't have a tax collector on your tail," she groans as Astarion comes out of his hiding spot in their kitchenette.

He chuckles nervously. "No, nothing like that...Well, sort of."

"Astarion!" she exclaims indignantly.

"It's nothing terrible, I promise. That man is a Gur. They used to be an ancient tribe of vagrant cutthroats and monster hunters. Nowadays they're more of a law enforcement of sorts and...uhm...accounting..."

He mutters the last part under his nose, clearly hoping she hadn't heard, but much to his disappointment, she's picked up every word.

“Accounting? Was that man your accountant? Are you actually hiding taxes?”

"What? No! I may have promised him to deal with a certain affair and haven't gotten around to it yet," he tries to explain. "We have a rather long and sordid history. They sort of helped me take down someone a long time ago, and after that... well, it's a long story for another time, but the important part is he won't bother us anymore now that you've taken care of that."

"Astarion." She sighs, but he cuts her off before she can launch into a lecture.

"I'll get to it, eventually. Anyway, thanks to you, he's off on his merry way and I can keep coming here undisturbed. Thank you, darling."

She sighs again. It's no surprise this man is always stirring up trouble.

"I'll cover for you if he comes again, but please don't bring your business to my office. I don't want to lose my job because of some disgruntled thug or mistress," she relents.

"Darling! What sort of lawyer do you take me for? I only consort with the highest caliber of people."

When her unimpressed expression persists, he deflates a little.

"Right. Of course. Why don’t I make it up to you? With a real coffee, perhaps?"

She freezes, the sudden intimacy of the moment catching her off guard. He senses her hesitation, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features. She wants to say yes but Shadowheart's words echo in her mind, warning her to be cautious.

"I'm not sure," comes out in the end.

"Of course, only if you want to," he says flippantly before leaning slightly over her desk. "But trust me, you do want to."

She bites her lip, capturing his attention before she speaks up finally "All right. It's a date."

#astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion x thiriann

20 notes · View notes

thiriann · 23 days ago

Text

A silly render inspired by a post on reddit.

Probably my last SFW until the end of Dec because I'm joining a 12 days of Kinkmas event yeyy 😁

BG provided by @bhaalbaaby

#astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #3d artwork

180 notes · View notes

thiriann · 25 days ago

Text

UPDATE: All Vanilla Female Elf, Half-elf, Human and Tiefling Tavs are now available as well as some Male Elf, Human and Half-elf Tavs.

Opening Companion Commissions

Hey everyone! I'm opening a few slots for render commissions.

UPDATE: All Vanilla Female Elf, Half-elf, Human and Tiefling Tavs are now available as well as some Male Elf, Human and Half-elf Tavs.

List of available companions:

Shadowheart, Lae'zel, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Minthara, Halsin, Jaheira, Minsc

List of available NPCs:

Orin, Gortash, Ketheric, Raphael, Dammon, Mizora, Alfira, The Emperor, Sazza, Zevlor, Aradin and others.

If you already have your Modded Tav or Durge ready for Daz Studio and can provide it, we could talk about a possible commission as well.

Base-Prices:

- 1 character 3D-Render - $40

+ each additional character - $10

+ simple background- $10

Examples:

Characters without background :

Characters with a simple background :

Every commission contains 1 total of the scene + 2 different angles or close-ups, depending on what exactly you want.

I have a wide range of outfits so feel free to inquire if you have anything specific in mind.

If you'd like a more detailed background, we can talk about possibilities.

Things I do:

- SFW and NFSW (wide range of fetishes)

Payment:

Via PayPal

Time needed to complete a commission:

Up to three weeks depending on complexity.

We can talk about express orders in case you need it faster.

PM me to order here or on Bluesky or X.

#commisions open

24 notes · View notes

thiriann · 27 days ago

Text

One day

#astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #3d artwork #3d art #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x thiriann

43 notes · View notes

thiriann · 28 days ago

Text

5K notes · View notes

thiriann · 1 month ago

Text

Sending off autumn with a morning stroll

Modern AU Astarion

#astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 tav #3d artwork #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion

59 notes · View notes

thiriann · 1 month ago

Text

"The Darkest Place" - Oneshot

You can also find me on AO3

A smutty oneshot

Rating: Explicit

Words: 7k

Pairing: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character

Warnings: 18+, Vampire Spawn Astarion × Tiefling Tav ,Traumatized Astarion (Baldur's Gate) ,Getting to Know Each Other ,Falling In Love, Injury, Caring Astarion, Vampire Bites, Blood Drinking, Vaginal Fingering,PIV sex ,one shot

Summary:

After a grievous wound Astarion does his best to take care of Thiriann while trying to figure out just when his simple plan fell apart completely.

It took one hit to take her down. A single strike from those shadowed claws sent her to her knees, writhing in agony. Astarion screamed at her to get up, even though he knew there was no way she could. As he tried to run to her a wraith pulled him by the arm, its cold touch chilling him. Another sprung up next to it with a sickening sound effectively surrounding him. Somehow, he managed to recall Thiriann had given him a flask of holy water. He'd thought it a joke at first, something to throw at Cazador, as if it would help. It decimated the horrors as it shattered.

By the time he reached her, shadow tendrils were already trying to bleed into her skin, her glowing blue eyes blackened entirely by the curse. Shadowheart was at her side before him, her eyes wide with alarm.

"I can't do anything about this out here. We must get her to camp—fast!"

He knelt to cradle her in his arms, holding her close to his chest. She felt cold to the touch, even to him, even through his gloves and fear clutched at his gut like a vice.

He hadn't even noticed how much she was bleeding until he stood up and her blood gushed down and onto his legs.

The return to camp was mostly a blur as they sprinted through the gnarly terrain.

Upon their arrival, the group sprang into action, laying her on a bedroll beside the fire and Astarion was practically shoved away by the healers, his protest dying on his lips as he caught sight of her pallid face. She looked dead. Or somehow even worse than dead—her cheeks hollow, eyes sunken, her color drained from blue to an ashen white, with blackened blood smelling like rot trickling from her lips. The scent of decay was overpowering.

Gale began chanting in a loud thundering voice, magic crackling through the air like static. Abruptly, the air cleared, as if a cloud had been lifted. The curse was largely purged from her body, yet her appearance remained unchanged. Halsin, meanwhile, was a blur of motion, concocting a myriad of remedies at her head.

"I need to apply this on the wounds. Remove her garments." He instructed.

Astarion finally looked away from her face. Three long gashes ran over her stomach all the way down to her hips. With swift resolve, he spurred into action taking his dagger and splitting her top and bottoms in one swift motion. The fastest and worst way he'd ever undressed someone.

Halsin began applying the salve he'd made around the edges of the cuts and with a relief Astarion noticed the bleeding turn from a flowing stream to a trickle, though the stench of rot remained, lingering in the air.

"We need to apply this again in two hours and maybe attempt to give her a healing potion then as well. " Halsin stated as he prepared more of the medicine.

The group's panic finally started to ease. Astarion surveyed her form once more, finding it as gaunt and drained as her face. It made him feel ill. His eyes landed on the only part of her that still had some color. Two pink dots on her breast right above her nipple. It took him a moment to understand what he was looking at. It was his bite mark. With her drinking healing potions every day it didn't really scar, smoother new skin had grown on the bite but because it was still relatively fresh, the color was pink not yet fully healed. She had matching ones on her neck as well as on her thigh.

The marks were practically glowing on her. He quickly glanced to the others to see if they've noticed, only to be met with Gale's stern glare.

"We should... ahem... cover her, to preserve her modesty," Astarion suggested looking away.

Dashing to her travel chest, he rummaged for any piece of clothing he could find. The party already suspected him of leading her into all manner of vile debaucherous acts —admittedly, they were not wrong—but such intimacies were meant to be private and now everyone had seen the evidence of their activities.

Regardless, none of that mattered now. And it wasn't as if their opinion of him could sink any lower.

He grabbed a loose robe, one he'd never seen her wear, and returned to her side. He draped it over her like a blanket, unsure if he should move her more than that.

“When do you think she’ll wake up?” he asked Halsin.

" We have no way of knowing for certain," Halsin responded, his voice betraying a hint of concern. "It could be hours, perhaps days. The curse has burrowed deep; she’s not out of the woods yet."

“Can we really leave her like this in the open, in the middle of camp?” Shadowheart voiced looking around.

“Bring her into my tent, at least she’ll have some privacy.” Astarion spoke. He hadn’t even thought about it as he said it but a strange surge of protectiveness rising within him pushed the words out of his mouth.

“Not a chance.” Shadowheart balked at him.

“No offense but your tent is hardly a sanitary choice for an ill person, Astarion.” Gale spoke up as well.

“I’ll have you know my tent is the least cluttered out of all of yours, thank you very much. She's already quite accustomed to spending her nights there anyway," he countered, his innuendo intending to shock the others into agreement.

“That will probably be for the best,” Halsin agreed "In a confined space, I can prepare a steam inhalation to aid her breathing."

Gale narrowed his eyes but miraculously stayed silent.

And with that, the argument was concluded and she was carried to Astarion’s tent along with a solid stack of herbs, potions, and a steaming bowl of medicinal brew by her head.

Despite the sanctuary of his tent, Astarion was restless. He sat by her, attempting to read, but worry knotted his insides, rendering him unable to focus. Halsin was right; her breathing sounded terrible. She was wheezing on every inhale, the sound horribly resembling a death rattle.

He was being foolish, surely. They had survived worse. By the morrow, it’d be as if nothing happened. Yet, the memory of that Harper wouldn’t leave his mind. The way he had succumbed to the shadows within moments, undeath claiming him irreversibly.

That couldn't be her fate. It simply couldn't.

“Did I say you could die?” he asked in his typical playful tone. It sounded deafeningly loud in the dark.

“Come on, wake up.” He continued whispering “We need you alive.”

No answer came but her quiet breaths.

Cautiously he leaned down and pressed his ear to her chest. Her heartbeat was quiet but steady, persisting.

A wave of calm washed over him and for the first time since entering the Shadowcursed Lands, he relaxed.

Exhaustion from the day's events and his lingering fears weighed heavily on him.

He laid gently beside her and let the rhythmic pulse of her heart coax him into slumber.

Astarion chased off the druid when he’d come with the salve a few hours later, insisting that he’d apply it himself. Backing up his claim with the fact he had intimate familiarity with her form already. Her wounds had stopped bleeding but as the morning came, she still hadn't woken up.

" What should we do? We can’t stay at camp all day," Shadowheart pressed, infinitely curious to learn more about her mistress’ domain.

“Normally, I’d agree but we can’t exactly leave when Thiriann is in such a grievous condition,” Gale interjected.

"A single affliction won't subdue her for long; she's bound to rally soon," Lae’zel asserted confidently. “It will be beneficial for us to look for supplies in the meantime.”

“Lae’zel’s right, our rations won’t last long,” Shadowheart added, her siding with the Githyanki betraying her eagerness to explore this “endless darkness”.

"If it’s all the same to you I’d rather stay .I’m not exactly dying to go back out there.” Astarion said, refusing to admit he wouldn’t leave Thiriann’s side unless they dragged him away.

"I, too, will stay," Halsin offered, “But should you find anything regarding the curse, please do let me know.”

The days melded into one another, with the party venturing forth and returning at dusk, leaving Astarion and Halsin to keep vigil. Karlach spoke of a sanctuary amidst the curse and a meeting with a Baldurian legend—an idol from her youth— but Astarion couldn’t find it in him to care at the time.

He was starting to get annoyed at Thiriann’s insistence on not waking up. But deep inside he knew the irritation was covering up the dread, the thought of what it would mean if she really didn’t wake, or woke up as something much worse.

He cared about her, more than he was ready to admit. He hadn’t cared about anyone but himself for so long, maybe ever. Staring at her pale sunken face in bewilderment he wasn't sure how it'd happened.

But there stretched out on his poor imitation of a bed she looked so small and fragile and he felt an overwhelming pull to do everything in his power to make her better. It itched under his skin along with thoughts of her that buzzed in his head day and night- when her wounds needed redressing, when to make her a new steam inhalation, when to push healing potion past her lips but slowly so she wouldn't choke, he even gave her a sponge bath to wash off the dried up blood.

He hadn’t eaten anything since they left the mountain pass, and his hunger was gnawing at him relentlessly. He realized he must have gotten spoiled in the last month if a mere few hungry days were getting him this worked up.

He supposed he could go hunt back at the mountain pass but that would require leaving her side and she needed him.

The thought occurred to him that he could ask one of his companions for some blood but their disdainful glances whenever Thiriann permitted him to feed dissuaded him. He also may have lashed out at them here and there in the last couple of days. Possibly hissed at Gale. But it's not like they would have agreed anyway, most of them had strictly told him not to look at their necks weeks ago when everything had come to light.The only person he could see accepting to give him some would scorch him alive. Perhaps if she bled into a cup, and he waited a day or two, it might cool to a tolerable temperature. A miserable sigh escaped him; desperation was setting in.

One evening, driven by necessity, he approached Shadowheart.

"What?" She asked flatly and he flinched at the chill in her stare, the words he needed to say caught in his throat.

"I was just wondering if you might have an extra healing potion for our dearest leader," he chickened out, coming up with an excuse on the spot.

Her eyes softened immediately, of course for Thiriann they would " Yes, of course." she replied, delving into her bag. "You know, you don't have to bear the burden of her care alone. We're here to help."

"She's not a burden," he snapped, snatching the potion and striding away.

"That's not what I meant," she called after him, her words lost in the distance.

He contemplated asking Halsin for blood,he certainly had some to spare. But he wasn’t sure he liked the way Halsin looked at her. Or at him for that matter. He'd been around long enough to know what desire looked like and he did not want to deal with that right now.

No, he could wait. She'd wake soon and then he could hunt, once assured of her recovery.

As night enveloped the camp once again, he grabbed a book and settled beside her. He’d taken to reading to her out loud as of late. It made the tense quiet more bearable, and he liked the sound of his own voice so that was a plus. She seemed to enjoy his voice too before.

“As the paladin of Sune stepped into the forbidden temple, his gaze met that of a striking dragonborn cleric.”

"I've encountered my share of daggers, sir. Best not to brandish yours so carelessly," Astarion mimicked in a feigned feminine tone.

"Rest assured, you've yet to lay your eyes on such a mighty weapon. Brace yourself to take my blessed greatsword," he continued, deepening his voice for the male character.

A snort interrupted his dramatic performance, and his gaze shifted to Thiriann's face. Her eyes were open, filled with mirth as she stared at him.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account. Please, do tell more about your mighty sword.” She bit her lip trying to contain her smile, her voice was rough as gravel, but she was talking, she was awake, she was herself and she was talking.

“Darling, you…” His voice broke, emotion swelling. “You finally stop being melodramatic and the first thing you do is ask about my greatsword? Not surprised at all, my dear.”

She openly laughed then, and he felt as if the shadow curse itself had lifted. He wanted to hug her, he wanted to kiss her, just any type of touch that solidified that she was alive, instead he stood there, frozen, held back by his insecurities as she struggled to sit up.

“How long was I out?” she asked, wincing as she sat up.

“Four days,” he replied, closing the book and rising to meet her gaze.

“What a right mess,” she groaned, dragging her hands over her face. “We should have been in Moonrise by now.”

“I think the others will forgive you dear. They thought the Shadowcurse might have claimed you for good.”

She went quiet at that, staring at her hands.

“Perhaps it did, for a while.”

He stared at her shocked while she continued.

“I journeyed to a place... elsewhere. Somewhere dark, devoid of wind, absent of sound. It reminded me of…” she hesitated “…somewhere I’d been before, years ago. The darkest place.” She smiled but it was a twisted thing, like it hurt to do so.

Shaking off the shadows of her recollection, she turned to him with concern. " And what about you? Did anyone else get hurt?”

“We got away unscathed. Some of us have better survival instincts, darling.” he quipped with playful arrogance.

She laughed again then, bringing more brightness into his tent.

"Forgive me for lacking your uncanny dodging abilities."

"One cannot expect to match such excellence," he gestured to himself, then with a quieter voice he added, “Just don’t do it again.”

She swallowed before looking away. “I’ll try.”

“Why am I in your tent?” she asked as her gaze wandered the canvas confines.

“Well, we couldn’t exactly leave you in the middle of camp like a drying fish now, could we?” he remarked with feigned exasperation.

“Oh…” she looked away guiltily, “Sorry for imposing on you like that.”

“Nonsense, darling, you know my tent is ever open for you, any time.” He tried to sound flirtatious but came out shockingly sincere at the end.

She smiled a little before standing up, a slight wobble betraying her weakness, but she steadied herself with determination.

“I am grateful for your hospitality, truly. But nature calls and I’m starving so I’ll head out.”

He was at her side in an instant, supporting her as her knee gave out on the first step.

“I’ve got you. Why don’t you let me help? The last thing we need now is to have you collapsing just as you've returned to us."

Thiriann bit her lip, considering his offer. She was pretty sure she could make it on her own but was reluctant to lose the feeling of his arms around her.

“I’d like that.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Astarion stood around the edges of the shadows waiting for Thiriann to finish her business when he heard her call out. “What happened to my clothes?”

“They were torn beyond repair I’m afraid. We had to discard them.”

“Damn, that was the only good leather I could find in this wilderness.” She bemoaned “And what of my small clothes?”

"Those too," He failed to mention his involvement in the tearing of those.

She looked uncomfortable as she emerged from the bush.

“That was my last pair.”

“How unfortunate.” his tone lacking any semblance of genuineness.

She offered a wry smile and an eye roll in response.

“Shall we, my dear?” he extended his arm in mock imitation of a courtly gentleman.

"Your gallantry is most appreciated, good sir. Lead the way," she accepted, allowing herself to lean on him just a little during their walk back.

And for a moment his mind drifted, away from this curse ridden place and into the parks of the lower city. Holding hands just as they did now, walking to a blanket setup in spotted shade, a bottle of rich red wine waiting for them.

Stop it! He chastised himself.

What was the point of these childish fantasies? They could bring nothing but more misery.

She wouldn’t want these things with him and he shouldn’t be wanting them in the first place. It was all so stupid. It must have been her close proximity that was bringing these on, that and the fact he had to play her nurse for the last week and his hunger and all the romantic books he’d been reading by her bedside, lack of sleep, they were confusing him, urging him to look for something that wasn’t there, to hope for something that wouldn’t happen.

And yet when she leaned against his side a little more, he felt his breath catch in his throat as her warmth spread through his side.

"Do we have any eggs?" she asked suddenly, breaking his reverie.

"What?" he asked in confusion, as she released his arm and began sifting through a supply pack. They had reached the campfire before he noticed.

"Never mind, found some," she declared, settling down to prepare her meal.

Her knife danced through the vegetables with a speed and precision he hadn't seen from her before. She moved with such ease, like she'd done this thousands of times, tossing her ingredients swiftly into the frying pan with a few eggs and some spices that Gale had left lying about.

"You know how to cook," he stated even though there was a question in his voice.

"Because I made an omelette?" She asked incredulously.

"Because of the way you handle a blade," he clarified.

She raised an eyebrow at that, unsure if he was trying to make a sexual innuendo. Knowing him, probably he was.

“I wasn't sure you knew how to hold one, what with that debacle back at the forge.” He smirked, amusement dancing in his eyes at the memory. The only other time he'd seen her actually attempt to use a knife was when she had failed spectacularly at cutting off the drow's head and he'd had to intervene to help.

“I'll have you know I'm actually quite decent with a dagger.” She replied arrogantly, waving her blade around in the air in a way that did not backup her claim at all.

"And yes, I can cook. Had my heart set on becoming a chef once upon a time," she confessed, her gaze lost in the flames. " I travelled all over to learn from the best. The quests I've taken for some of my recipes..." A self-deprecating chuckle escaped her as she reminisced. "It all seems so trivial now."

She retrieved her meal from the fire and took a mouthful, not waiting for it to cool. She always preferred it hot anyway.

"You've never cooked for this lot. Not up to your master chef standards, are they? " He teased.

" It's not that but I'd rather it stay this way. If they knew, I'd be roped into cooking duty, and I much prefer being served. Besides, Gale's ego might not survive any more competition."

"Understandable," he conceded, appreciating the appeal of having your meal delivered to your bed every night.

"So only you know my little secret. I’m trusting you to keep it." She said, trying to sound mischievous.

This is so typical of her, he thought with some exasperation. Her 'secrets' were nothing more than hidden talents and achievements. Nothing dark lingered around her, no deep pools of morally questionable choices. Sometimes it was infuriating how innocent she was.

" We should introduce you to a bit of corruption if these are the worst of your secrets, darling," he jested, turning back to the fire, oblivious to the shadow that crossed her face.

" We all have things that haunt us, Astarion," she replied after a pause, her voice heavy and unexpectedly sad.

He looked at her then. For the longest time, he'd felt like he'd had the most world experiences than anyone in their group because he'd been alive the longest. Thiriann's naivete especially made her seem so childish to him sometimes. Like she barely even knew the types of people that lived out there, all the possible worst the world could offer.

But looking at her now he finally saw her experiences etched upon her face. She looked worn down, aged, her shoulders slumped in defeat and her eyes filled with misery and acceptance.

It occurred to him, not for the first time, that they didn't know each other at all.

That was understandable, they’d barely known one another for a month, and most of the time they were running around in some crisis or another.

What didn’t make sense though was his desire for that to change. He wanted to know what made her look like that, and to never speak of it again just to avoid seeing this misery in her.

But once again he remained motionless, caught in the uncertainty of how to reach out and offer the comfort she so clearly needed. So, he just nodded.

“You can talk to me, you know. We are technically in this together. “ He said in the end, his voice soft but uncharacteristically serious.

“Before I was taken by the Nautiloid, long before, there was a man I knew.” She began, uncertainty evident in her voice probably wondering if he was even interested in hearing her out. He turned his body fully towards her, trying his hardest to convey he was listening.

“He was my senior, my commander. I served under him for years. And he was a right asshole, never had a kind word to say. You could do everything right and he’d still have a ready plethora of insults to throw at you. Our troops hated him almost as much as the enemy.”

She smiled faintly as if this was the fondest part of her memory.

"But he was also fiercely loyal, utterly devoted to the woman he loved. I admired him for that. He would do anything for her, even the most heinous acts. I thought there was something noble in that blind devotion."

Astarion scoffed. "Your ideas of romance are rather twisted, aren't they, darling?"

She shrugged, not particularly offended."Too many lonely years and trashy books, I suppose."

He grimaced, her answer hitting too close to home.

It’s not that he was in any position to lecture her on the matter given his own ideas of what was considered romantic came from much the same way.

“So, what happened to this rude smitten fool? I presume he met his grim end running after his lady’s coattails?” he asked unable to shake off the bitterness.

“Yeah, you could say that.”she replied and Astarion’s smirk fell as he saw the grim look on her face.

“When the tides of war turned and it became clear we’d lose and be accused of treason, we were instructed to infiltrate the rebellion ranks, a last-ditch effort to gather intelligence. But no further orders never came. Instead, we were sent to eliminate a hostile entity.

When we got there he already knew. Hells He had orchestrated it all. He wanted to die by our hands, by my hands..." Her voice trailed off, her eyes filled with a profound sadness.

"I had to be a part of it, couldn't stop it, couldn't run away, couldn't…" She shook her head trying to push away the memory.

Astarion understood this feeling all too well. The helplessness, the forced complicity in acts he never wanted.

A sudden overwhelming feeling of sadness and pity settled in his chest at the thought that she knew what those things felt like.

"You were a pawn in their game, nothing more. A toy to be manipulated," he said, his voice gentle. "It's pointless to blame yourself when you couldn't have changed anything. The best thing to do is forget and move on."

She nodded, a sad smile playing on her lips. "That’s easier said than done." she whispered.

“I know.” He said, voice filled with a quiet understanding as he handed her a bottle.

She accepted the wine, taking a deep swig without tasting it at all.

A moment passed before she spoke, her voice flat and devoid of emotion.

“He died an asshole, lived an asshole and no one mourned him.”

“Except you.”

“Except me ," she confirmed, her gaze drifting back to the dancing flames. Lost in the countless memories, she seemed to relive a bygone era.

“He gave the most insane orders sometimes," she murmured, breaking the silence. "Once, he commanded us to hurl bird droppings at the enemy, a tactic he called 'psychological warfare'."

Astarion's brow furrowed in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

A wry smile crept across her lips. "Oh, I am. And it worked. The look of utter confusion on their faces was priceless."

“Tell me everything.” Astarion said, his curiosity sufficiently piqued.

As the night progressed, he could see her eyelids were getting heavy, her words slurred slightly as she slumped more and more. Soon they'd both retreat to their respective beds and settle for the night. His tent looked strangely dark and lonesome despite being close to the fire.

A gust of wind flew past them followed by an unsettling howl from the shadows and she shivered.

She looked at him with uncertainty and what he was sure was longing, resembling a stray puppy waiting at someone's doorstep.

“Thank you again for… before and for tonight, for staying with me. I-I’m not sure when was the last time someone did this for me. “

She looked at him with so much gratitude in her eyes and heat bloomed in his chest, making his heart clench.

Her words were plain, just a simple thank you yet they unexpectedly lodged in his chest. When was the last time someone had thanked him for anything? Or he done something worthy of gratitude?

“Don’t mention it,dear. I should leave you to rest.” He said preparing to walk out trying his damnest not to betray how his composure had crumbled.

“Astarion,” she called out after him “when was the last time you fed?”

“Well, you know,” he started gesturing with a flair “I pop out to hunt every now and then.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“You’re starving.” She said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and he had to ask himself how could she possibly know.

“Come, you can feed from me if you’d like.”

He balked at her, outraged. “Have you lost your mind, darling? You just woke up.”

“I’m fine,I’m just tired.” She waved him off “The curse has left my body completely.”

He eyed her uncertainly. The thought of drinking from her now made him uneasy but even at her mere suggestion, he could feel his hunger resurfacing. His eyes trailed to her neck involuntarily and he felt his stomach clench violently at the sight. He hated this part of himself, more beast than man in his uncontrollable desire. But holding back was never his strong suit and when she’d offered so willingly, it was harder than ever to resist.

“Why don’t you come back to my tent then?” He asked suddenly “It will save you from the draft and we could have ourselves a little privacy.”

Laying her down on the pillows that he’d arranged his eyes drifted once more to her neck. He swallowed painfully, his throat dry as a desert.

“Are you really sure?” He heard himself murmur.

“Yes,I’ll be alright. Now come here.” She moved to make space for him.

That warm bubble of affection in his chest which he'd largely been ignoring was pushing insistently at his ribs as he stared at her bright blue eyes.

Sliding his body over hers, Astarion lowered himself on top of her. He bit quickly, trying to minimize her pain.

Finally, it was as if a damn burst and all of the feelings he had felt the last few days- the fear of losing her, the stress of her illness, the relief of her finally awakening and the incredible joy of her blood - were threatening to overwhelm him. She was so warm and so alive and he felt that very life essence flow into him filling him with happiness and comfort.

He groaned into her neck, needy and desperate and it set her skin on fire. Lost in the sensations he let his body guide him closer and closer to her. Their bodies slotted together, her breasts pressing up into his chest, one of his legs sliding between hers.

Moving back from her neck he kissed her, momentarily forgetting his lips were still coated with her blood. He tried to pull away once the realization hit but she chased him with her lips unwilling to let them part.

As he dipped his tongue into her hot, wet mouth he found that it is not enough. She wanted him and he wanted more, more heat, more connection.

He could feel his body responding to her already. Her fresh blood going straight to fuelling his arousal.

She squirmed under him, dragging her thigh against his length sending a jolt of pleasure through him and he instinctively ground against it, trying to prolong the sensation. At the same time, he pressed his leg against her core forcing her to gasp into his mouth.

He was such a fool. But no one before had made him feel this way, no one had compared to her.

Out of all the feelings he had learned to suppress, he had no experience dealing with this one in particular. He had tried to nip it in the bud but now he wasn’t sure he wanted it to stop or that he could even stop it.

Maybe some part of him had wanted to fall for her. Wanted to allow himself to feel once again. Up until recently he hadn’t even considered love a possibility. What a terribly cliche way to realize one's feelings.

He glided his hand down her robe undoing the ties holding it together. She was still fully nude under and he wasted no time grasping a breast and rolling her nipple between his fingers.

She reached for his shirt trying to untuck it from his pants but the gesture brought a wave of unease so he swiftly grabbed the bottom of it and lifted it over his head. He nudged her knee with his own, fully settling between her legs and she wasted no time pulled him in for another hungry kiss. With their naked chests pressed together, he could feel her heartbeat against his ribs as if it were his own.

They ground against each other, the feeling of his leather pants against her naked cunt only fuelling her desire. She gasped at the contact and arched her back into him, her nails digging into his shoulders. He could feel her scorching heat against his member even through his pants and felt himself throb in response. Thiriann reached down to unlace them but he stopped her hands.

“Not until you’re ready for me, darling.”

She whined in protest but moved her hands back. Having her obediently listen to him always managed to bring a small thrill of excitement.

He reached between their bodies dragging his fingers over her centre. She was wet but not wet enough, it would most likely hurt if he entered her now. He started lowering himself down her body, but felt her tensing under him, her hands on his shoulders squeezing firmly, keeping him in place.

“No, don’t go.” She pleaded.

“Don't worry, I'm here, love.”

“I want you inside me, can we…like this?”

"You'll have to come first, darling. Do that for me, just relax, I’ve got you.”

Astarion glanced at her face, intent on watching her expression as he eased his finger into her. She groaned at the intrusion but tried to breathe through the temporary discomfort. Moving carefully, he began pumping his finger in and out of her, focused on opening her up. Slowly she melted under his gentle ministrations and when he dragged his finger over that place inside of her, she couldn’t stop herself from moaning his name. Her quiet breathy mews filled his tent as he continued to assault the delicate spot causing her eyes to roll back and her back to arch into him.

It felt unexpectedly embarrassing to be able to feel his muscles moving between them as he pleasured her. His soft gasps of effort by her ear combined with the scent of his sweat and perfume filling her nostrils proved more erotic than she was prepared for. Sooner than she would have liked she was nearing her climax.

“Come for me love, I can tell you’re almost there.” he whispered in her ear.

A furious blush took over her cheeks despite the blood loss but she did just that. Moaning his name she came, her walls spasmed around him squeezing his finger so tight he feared it might break. She relaxed back into the pillows and he gave her a moment to recover, marvelling at the slick that now dripped down her thighs.

As he reached to unlace his pants, a part of him hesitated, the unease he felt every time before bedding someone would stubbornly not leave him alone. He still pushed it down. Having no patience to fight himself he opened his breeches and swiftly took out his cock.

Rocking his hips slowly against her opening, he inched his way inside before pushing forward and bottoming out in one swift movement. A soft sigh left his lips at how warm she was, how welcoming her body felt.

“Does this feel good, darling?” he asked, giving a few slow, experimental thrusts; she was still so very tight around his cock he could barely move.

“Gods,yes-...You know it does,” she pouted and he smirked, kissing her once again.

He set a gentle pace, pulling nearly all the way out of her before languidly rolling his hips forward, inch by inch, drawing moans from both of their throats. “You’re going to have to be quiet, you know,” he whispered against her ear.

He finished one particularly delicious thrust, groaning and burying his face in her neck, trying to muffle the sound. “Gods, you feel good,” he mumbled, luxuriating in the feel of her pressing around his cock, hot and wet and soft as silk.

Wordless little noises of pleasure escaped her as she started to rock back against him, joining into the rhythm he had set. Their motions felt like the waves of the ocean crashing against the sea. But his movements soon became practiced as instinct started to take over and he felt himself submerge into the fog despite his efforts to stay in the moment. He wanted to be here, with her, feeling this connection but his mind slipped away, beaches and vast waters behind his eyelids.

Suddenly he felt her grip his shoulders and push against him. When he opened his eyes the first thing he saw was the tent canvas before the rest of the surroundings began to come to him. The blanket that was under him, the stacks of books by side and various bottles of potions and blood strewn about. And finally, the woman on top of him who was straddling him now. The gentle feeling of her as she ground her hips against him and her glowing eyes attracting him like a moth to a flame.

“Oh? Are you looking for a ride, darling?” he teased, surprising himself at how even his voice sounded.

Thiriann answered him by leaning down, hair falling around him like wavy black curtains so she could kiss him again. He gripped her supple thighs as she rode him, savouring the sensation of her wrapping tightly around his length as they licked into each other's mouths, tongues sliding against one another.

She lifted herself up over him, letting her hands wander up and down his front, watching his muscles tighten and relax under the gentle pressure. Her fingers brushed over one of his nipples and she relished in the shudder the gesture drew out of him. He groaned, eyelids fluttering as she began to move earnestly on top of him.

Instinctively he gripped her hips pulling her down hard on his length causing them both to moan.

“That’s…cheating-” she gasped out as he kept thrusting from under her, refusing to surrender the upper hand.

“You were expecting me to play fair?” he smirked at her amused and Thiriann rolled her eyes. Taking the momentary distraction, he rolled them again and pined her under him once more.

“Fuck!” she hissed into his mouth but he didn't let her recover as he began bucking into her with desperate urgency. Driving deeper and deeper with every thrust he could feel the wetness gushing out of her, soaking him and the robe under her. She spread her legs further allowing him to pump freely as she held onto his shoulders, dragging her nails over his skin but keeping them far above his scars. He growled into her neck as her heat squeezed him impossibly tighter trying to draw him in even closer.

She saw stars as he ground his hips against hers, putting just enough pressure on her clit to push her over the edge.

“Astarion -” That was all she managed to get out before she came, hard, spasming and clenching violently around his cock. Ripples of pleasure spread through her body as her sweet moans slipped into his ear like sobs in tandem with the rhythmic contractions.

He bit into her neck again and followed her over, groaning into the mess he’d made of her throat. She held him as he shook with it, pleasure obliterating his every thought and for a moment there was nothing but the blissful sensations of her warmth. Half-gasps, half-moans spilled out of his throat as he rode the aftershocks, fangs buried deep in her neck.

After his body stopped shuddering and the fog of pleasure lifted, Astarion finally collapsed on top of her bringing a soft sigh from her lips.

He felt he should get up, move away, and dress himself but he didn't want to leave, to go out of her vicinity where the cold would surely sweep in and chill him to the bone. He wanted to stay here in her arms, to soak in the warmth of her body, of her presence. Every inch between them felt too much, too long.

He relaxed onto her further, head still buried in the crook of her neck and she could tell he had fallen asleep. Unusual as it was, he drew breath even in slumber, the gentle cold exhales caressing her collarbone. The way he curled up further reminded her of a cat, maybe an overgrown undead cat. He hissed like one too when irritated. A wave of protectiveness surged within her and she wrapped her arms tighter around him. He would probably hate it but this felt nice, holding him like this, enjoying the security of his embrace and keeping him safe in hers, next to her heart.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate fanfiction #astarion smut #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #fanfic #astarion x thiriann

128 notes · View notes

thiriann · 1 month ago

Text

I want to live

Inspired by the art of the Baldur’s Gate 3 Vinyl which I got as a gift recently.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #baldurs gate #3d artwork #3d art #baldur's gate 3

3K notes · View notes

thiriann · 1 month ago

Text

Got something on your hind? I mean mind.

A quick Bloodweave render to keep me going while I'm sick as a dog.

Background generously provided by @bhaalbaaby

#astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #3d artwork #3d art #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bloodweave #baldur's gate 3

271 notes · View notes

thiriann · 1 month ago

Text

this hit me like a truck

95K notes · View notes

thiriann · 1 month ago

Text

Dangerous Hands

Forgot I was a NSFW Artist for a second there 🥴 Must rectify that mistake asap

Uncropped can be found on X

#astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #3d artwork #astarion x thiriann #baldur's gate 3

69 notes · View notes

thiriann · 1 month ago

Text

#astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #lae’zel #karlach #wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #shadowheart #jaheira #minthara baenre #bloodweave #bloodoak #bloodpact #hellspawn

15 notes · View notes

thiriann · 2 months ago

Text

Ink - Chapter 1 out of 5

You can also find me on AO3

Rating: Explicit

Words: 2.1k

Pairing: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character

Warnings: Named Tav , Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Divergence,Eventual Smut,Lawyer Astarion ,Astarion Being Astarion, Flirting, Getting to Know Each Other, Smut in later Chapters

A prequel to my Eggplant Emoji adult mini comic

Summary:

She nods, her eyes skimming over the lists. "Oh, I'm sorry, could you have this translated? I'm afraid my Elvish isn't quite there yet."

“Elvish? That's all plain common.” he replies, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“All of it?” she repeats, incredulous.

Thiriann suppresses a sigh. She'll be in for a long night.

"Alright. And for which date do you want them delivered?”

"Oh,delivery won't be necessary. I'll have them tonight."

Thiriann's eyes widen. "Tonight?" she echoes, disbelief coloring her voice. The sheer volume of the order, coupled with the strange, almost archaic language, is overwhelming. And on top of that, the list is handwritten.

She tries to read a few of the items but can't make heads or tails of it, his handwriting, while graceful as all elven handwriting seems to be, is also nearly impossible to decipher. There's no doubt this man has a history in medicine.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Leaning on the mostly empty kitchen counter, Thiriann mixes her instant coffee with practiced boredom as Shadowheart regales her with yet another story about her three dogs. Or is it her cats that she is talking about this time?

"...and then he slapped him across the face only to pretend he never saw anything. Can you imagine?" Shadowheart laughs lost in her tale.

Thiriann offers a tired smile. "Adorable." Taking a sip, she frowns at the bitterness of the coffee and vows to bring her own tomorrow.

Her colleague Lae’zel has just gone into maternity leave and like an idiot Thiriann volunteered to cover her night shifts with the idea the pay would be higher and she'd have most of her days free. But the adjustment is unexpectedly hard, leaving her spending those said days mostly napping on the couch. Why would an office supplies company even have a nightshift is beyond her.

The long, dark nights were starting to wear on her, and the eerie quiet of the office was beginning to feel oppressive. As she glances at the clock, she realizes she has a few more hours to endure.

“Isn’t it, though? I just wish they got along better.”

Shadowheart continues, energetic as ever, oblivious to the fact Thiriann missed a good 70% of their conversation. It is a pure mystery and somewhat infuriating how she can remain this upbeat during their dreadful graveyard shifts.

Thiriann sighs enviously when a sudden flash of white interrupts her thoughts. She blinks, her heart pounding as a figure, ethereal and almost otherworldly, emerges from the shadows.

The thought that she's finally lost it and is hallucinating crosses her mind when the figure, a man of striking beauty and piercing red eyes, approaches her desk.

Clad in a gray suit, slightly bigger and longer than it should be, he moves with the grace and elegance befitting of a model or maybe an actor. His white hair is styled into delicate curls that shine as brightly as the sun under the neon light.

Thiriann is still very much transfixed when his voice, deep and resonant, cuts through the silence. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

Her breath catches in her throat at the melodic sound. She barely notices as Shadowheart groans "Not him again."

Thiriann's gaze shifts to her colleague having momentarily forgotten she is next to her. "Who is he?" she whispers.

"Mr. Ancunin," Shadowheart replies, a hint of amusement in her voice. "A lawyer who works primarily with Lae'zel. Guess he's your problem now."

She gives her a sadistic little smirk before walking away to her own desk.

As Thiriann turns back to the enigmatic stranger, a strange mix of curiosity and trepidation fills her.

At a first glance he seems a little lost and timid, looking around nervously, trying to see if anyone was coming. She could understand that; working with Lae'zel would certainly do that to a person.

"I need some help," he says, his voice a low murmur. A strange pull draws Thiriann closer, an inexplicable urge to assist him.

"Good evening. How may I help you?" she replies, her voice steady.

To her surprise, the look of helplessness vanishes, replaced by a cool, almost arrogant expression as he sees her. He smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes, instead there is tension behind them as if bracing himself for something not particularly pleasant.

"Ah, I was so hoping for a friendly face. I usually work with Lae'zel. Could you fetch her for me?"

A surge of irritation rises within her at being treated like a secretary but she suppresses it and instead flashes one of her own smiles reserved for the worst of clients.

"Yes, well, she's out on maternity leave but I'm here to assist you with anything you need."

He raises an eyebrow, his lips curving into a suggestive smirk. "Anything? Don't make promises you can't keep, darling."

The bold flirtation catches her off-guard but before she can respond, he continues, his tone shifting to a more businesslike manner. "Very well, this is my order."

And just like that as if a switch has been flipped and the flirtatious persona falls away.

He hands her two sheets of paper filled with intricate script.

"The ones marked with a specific color I want only in that color. If you don't have them, don't suggest alternatives. I'll just wait until they're in stock."

She nods, her eyes skimming over the lists. "Oh, I'm sorry, could you have this translated? I'm afraid my Elvish isn't quite there yet."

“Elvish? That's plain common.” he replies, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“All of it?” she asks, incredulous.

Thiriann suppresses a sigh. She'll be in for a long night.

"Alright. And for which date do you want them delivered?”

"Oh, delivery won't be necessary. I'll have them tonight."

Luckily, she has a set of prepared excuses for these situations.

"We don't normally take handwritten orders." This is technically true and mostly still followed.

"You don't? Lae'zel never mentioned anything about that," he says, his tone both casual and amused.

Thiriann doubts that very much considering how much of a stickler for rules Lae’zel is. But then again, she can read Tir'su, maybe she could even handle his lists.

"Very well." Thiriann sighs resigned before standing up. "In order not to get the wrong items, please accompany me to the warehouse while I collect them."

"I thought outsiders weren't permitted there.” He says before shutting his mouth quickly.

Thiriann raises an eyebrow, curious how he knew about that.

“They aren't normally but I can make an exception.”

Now that gets his attention. A smile spreads on his face quick as a flash.

“Oh, you're such a sweetheart. Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt. Very well, lead on." He perks up, almost as if allowed to view a forbidden treasury.

An awkward silence descends between them as they walk through the dimly lit corridor, broken only by the soft scuff of their footsteps, making the normally short distance seem endless. He is near silent as he walks behind her and a strange sense of unease washes over her, making her feel slightly on edge.

As they begin to search for the items, it quickly becomes clear that this is going to be a bigger challenge than she anticipated. The man's demands are specific and his patience is thin. Every time she misreads a word or misinterprets a symbol, he sighs in frustration.

“So, you want the… pink pens by Nautiloid Inks?”

“Purple, darling. What use would I have for pink pens?”

She isn’t sure what use he’ll have of purple ones either but goes to look for them all the same.

“Alright, next is a book called “The art of infernal negotiations” by…” she pauses completely at a loss. By the gods is that even a word? Even the individual letters are unreadable.

“K'ha'ssji'trach'ash. The blighter is called K'ha'ssji'trach'ash.” he snaps annoyed.

“Right. I’ll go get it.”

At about the fifth item he sighs and stares at the cart.

“Wait, that's all we've got so far? Oh, it's going to take hours to collect them all.” He complains in a high-pitched whine and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling.

Now he is getting it. At least she won’t be alone in her misery.

“If you’ve changed your mind, I’m more than happy to write up your order to get delivered to your office.”

“No, this will do… I suppose. Some of the items I’ll need for tomorrow.”

"You know," she suggests, "it might be faster if you dictate the list. I can look for the items while you do that."

He considers her suggestion for a moment, before he shrugs. "That might work”.

As they work together, a strange camaraderie begins to form. They settle into an easy sort of rhythm, one following the other, and the initial tension between them starts to dissipate, replaced by a sense of shared purpose.

"Well, this is everything then," he says, surveying the cart full of items.

"Really? That was rather fast. We make a rather excellent team," Thiriann replies, a small smile playing on her lips.

"And it's only taken half an hour of overtime," she adds, a hint of amusement in her voice."Let's return upstairs, and I'll write you the invoice quickly.”

"You know, I don't think I've seen you here before," he remarks as they walk, his eyes lingering a moment too long. "I would have undoubtedly remembered such a beautiful face. Are you a new hire?"

She rolls her eyes playfully . "I've worked here for four years, actually. Just new to the night shift."

"Oh? And how has that been going for you? Have you found your true calling as a nocturnal creature?" he asks, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"Not at all. I have no idea how people do it," she admits, a hint of exasperation in her voice.

"Ah, a night owl in the making then. The secret is simple, my dear : embrace the darkness, in time it will become as much part of you as the sun.” he pauses for a moment “That and copious amounts of caffeine.”

“Is that what worked for you? You seem…happy with this lifestyle.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I was a mess at first. But it does get easier.” He says with a surprisingly gentle and earnest look.

Maybe it is the exhaustion or sleep deprivation but the reassuring words of this stranger actually manage to bring her comfort.

“Thank you. I think I needed to hear that.” She says with a smile and Astarion can’t help but find it rather captivating.

After a few more minutes, they are back in the office and Thiriann quickly writes up the invoice before handing it to him.

"There you go, Mr. Ancunin. Pleasure working with you," she says and finds she actually means it to an extend.

"Please, darling, just Astarion, now that we've acquainted ourselves," he corrects, a smirk playing on his lips.

Astarion she thinks, even his name is enchanting.

Suddenly, he thrust his phone into her hand.

"What is this for?" she asks, confused.

"For your number, darling. Obviously. I need to be able to reach you if I have an order, don't I?" he replies almost mockingly.

"Oh, you can just ring up the office number on the website. I'm sure someone will—" she begins before he interrupts her.

"But you are my personal provider, aren't you? What if whoever is on shift is not equipped to handle my very specific needs?" his tone is innocent but the look on his face is anything but.

He is making a bit of a stretch, but she has indeed exchange phone numbers with almost all of her clients. "Yes, I suppose you have a point. Here is my number," she says, quickly dialing the digits.

He effortlessly slings the enormous supply bag over his shoulder and glances down at the new contact before a sultry grin appears on his face.

"It was a pleasure working with you, Thiriann," he says. Her name, spoken in his smooth voice, sends a shiver down her spine and a furious blush finds a way to her cheeks.

And with that, he strolls away, his hips swaying in a rather hypnotic manner.

Link to Chapter 2

#astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #3d artwork #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanart #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic writers #astarion fic #astarion x thiriann

24 notes · View notes