thiriann

[thiriann]

💜Happy Valentine's Day ❤️

[thiriann]

A date under the stars 💖

Happy Valentine's Day!

[thiriann]

Straight up villain

Inspired by the song "Villain" by K/DA. I had this strong urge to see Astarion in Evelynn's clothes and I am not at all disappointed by the results.

[thiriann]

Ink - Chapter 3 out of 5

You can also find me on AO3

Link to Chapter 1

Rating: Explicit

Words: 4.6k

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:

When he reaches the table, she’s leaned forward slightly, her posture relaxed yet deliberate. He notices the first two buttons of her shirt are now open, revealing a tantalizing line of cleavage. He’s certain they were closed before he left to order. The subtle change doesn't escape him, stirring a mix of curiosity and frustration. She wants him, he’s sure of it. Yet she doesn’t respond to his flirting or try to initiate anything. Instead, she beckons him with these quiet, calculated gestures, her body inviting while her tone remains polite, formal, and utterly composed. The contrast is maddening. It makes him want to push, to see how far he can go before her mask of propriety crumbles.

On a much-needed day off, Thiriann luxuriates in the rare treat of sleeping in, waking up well past noon. 

The sunlight filters lazily through her curtains, casting golden streaks across her room. For once, she allows herself to savor the quiet stillness of the morning—or rather, the afternoon. There’s a local book fair in the center of town today, and the promise of fresh air, a taste of civilization is too tempting to pass up. 

She dresses quickly, throws on a light jacket, and heads out, the crisp autumn breeze brushing against her skin like a gentle reminder that the world is still alive and moving.

The fair is a riot of color and sound, a vibrant tapestry of stalls and vendors stretching across the town square. The air is thick with the mingling scents of rain-soaked pavement and old books, a nostalgic combination that makes her wish for nothing more than to curl up in a cozy café with a good read for the rest of the afternoon. She wanders aimlessly through the stalls, her fingers trailing over stacks of weathered paperbacks and hand-bound journals, her mind pleasantly adrift.

Then, something glitters in her peripheral vision. Instinctively, she turns toward the light, her gaze drawn to an old, forgotten bookstall tucked away in a corner. Unlike the others, this one is shrouded in neglect, its merchandise covered in a thick layer of dust. Mold creeps along the edges of some books, while others are draped in delicate spiderwebs, as if the stall itself has been abandoned for years.

But her eyes land on one book in particular, and she can’t look away. It’s grotesque, its cover made of what looks like leather—or perhaps even skin, if such a thing were possible. The cover bears a face with two piercing purple eyes and a gaping, empty hole where a mouth should be. It’s both fascinating and repulsive, and she feels an inexplicable pull toward it.

Kneeling down, she reaches out to inspect it, her fingers brushing over the binding. As soon as she makes contact, a faint tingle runs through her fingertips, like static electricity.

Magic.

The realization hits her like a jolt: this book is a magical artifact. Quite a powerful one at that if the lingering pain in her palm is anything to go by.

She picks it up from the basket, turning it over in her hands. The weight of it feels unnatural, as though it’s heavier than it should be. She tries to open it, but the cover doesn’t budge, no matter how hard she tugs. The face on the cover seems to mock her, its hollow mouth a silent reminder that something is missing. A key, perhaps? Or some kind of ritual? Whatever it is, the book isn’t giving up its secrets easily.

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

A smooth, familiar voice breaks the spell and Thiriann nearly jumps out of her skin.

“Astarion?” she blurts, her voice tinged with surprise.  

This is the first time she’s seen him in daylight, and somehow, he looks even more radiant. His hair is a halo of soft curls, glowing in the sun, a stark contrast to his ruby-red eyes that seem to promise nothing but sin. The day is unseasonably warm, and he’s dressed impeccably in a burgundy turtleneck sweater that clings to his frame, paired with black khakis. A matching blazer is draped over one arm, a briefcase in his other hand. He looks like a model in the midst of a photoshoot, entirely out of place in the dusty bazaar of secondhand books.

“You seem surprised, my dear,” he says, his tone lightly accusatory. “Didn’t expect to see me in the light of day?”

Shame floods her as she realizes he knows about the rumors—the whispers she’s foolishly believed.

 “A little,” she admits guiltily, her cheeks warming. “What brings you here?”  

It’s a clumsy attempt to change the subject, but he lets it slide, his smile widening as if amused by her discomfort.  

“Just had a meeting with a client in the area,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “Terribly tedious. But that's about to change now that I've run into you."

His gaze shifts to the book in her hands, and a flicker of interest crosses his features. “I see you’ve been busy,” he remarks, his voice low and almost husky. He leans closer, his curiosity bordering on intense fascination. The scent of bergamot and rosemary fills her senses—soft, inviting, with a subtle spice underneath. It’s intoxicating, and she can’t help but take a small, discreet inhale, savoring the way it seems to suit him perfectly.  

As she hands the shopkeeper a few crumpled bills with shaky hands, Astarion’s eyes linger on the grotesque cover, tracing the lines of the disturbing face with a strange intensity. 

“Just doing some book shopping,” she replies, trying to sound casual. “Looking for something I could take to bed—I mean, read in bed.”  

She stammers, heat rising to her cheeks. To her horror, his eyes sparkle with mirth, clearly enjoying her slip. 

He leans in further still, his voice dropping to a low, teasing purr. “Well, darling,” he drawls, the word dripping with seduction, “perhaps I can help you find something you can take to bed.”  

Thiriann swallows, her throat suddenly drier than a desert. He’s mocking her, simply toying with her, reveling in how easily he can fluster her. The bully. As if she isn’t already making a fool of herself quite effectively on her own.

“You… uh, you still want to help me carry this?” she asks, desperate to move on from the moment.  

“Darling, it would be my pleasure,” he answers cheerfully, his tone light but his gaze sharp, as if he’s savoring her discomfort.  

Astarion’s fingers brush against hers as she hands him the bagged purchase, and she feels a jolt run through her at the contact—partly from the fact that it’s him, and partly from the shocking coldness of his skin. Reflexively, she wraps her hand around his fingers, the instinct to warm him up overpowering her for a moment. He startles but doesn’t pull away, his crimson eyes widening slightly in surprise.  

“You’re freezing,” she says, the words slipping out before she can stop herself. Realizing what she’s done, she releases him immediately, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the casual intimacy of the gesture.  

“Just poor circulation, dear,” he replies smoothly, though there’s a faint tremble in his voice, a crack in his usual composed facade. He adjusts his grip on the bag, his expression unreadable,but before she could question it a voice interrupts them.  

“Mister, over here!”

Thiriann’s salvation comes in the form of a small, scruffy tiefling child. The boy stands a foot away, waving enthusiastically—more at Astarion than at her.

“Hold out your hand, mister. Let me show you something,” the boy says, his voice brimming with excitement.  

Astarion raises an eyebrow but obliges, his expression a mix of amusement and skepticism. The child waves his hand dramatically in the air, and a shiny trinket appears in his palm, glinting brightly in the sunlight. It’s a cheap-looking ring, its surface polished to a deceptive gleam.  

“Go on, take this ring. It’s lucky,” the tiefling urges, holding it out to Astarion with a grin that’s equal parts charming and rehearsed.  

Astarion plucks the ring from the boy’s hand with two fingers, examining it with a practiced eye. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he makes it disappear into thin air, his movements smooth and effortless. Unable to resist, he glances sideways at Thiriann, a smirk tugging at his lips as he notices the awe on her face. For a moment, he preens under her gaze, his confidence radiating like a second skin.  

“Weeping, bleeding hells,” the child exclaims, his eyes wide. “Okay, maybe you don’t need extra luck. But since you’re already holding the thing…” He pulls out a coin. “Call it. Heads or tails?”

Astarion’s smirk sharpens. “You can drop the act,” he says, his tone cutting through the boy’s bravado like a knife. 

The tiefling freezes, his grin faltering. “I, uh, I don’t know what you mean.”

Thiriann feels a pang of sympathy for the child, but Astarion isn’t swayed. “Come on. This is a Tinker’s Trash scam. A clumsy one,” he says, his tone dripping with mockery. For a moment, Thiriann wonders if this is how he is in court—confident, collected, and cutting straight to the throat. 

“Hey, that hurts!” the tiefling protests, though his voice wavers. “I’m running an honest—” He stops, realizing he’s not going to convince Astarion, and tries to save face. “Look, I swear to you. These rings are the real deal. I promise I’m not running a scam.”  

Astarion turns sharply, his movements almost too quick to follow. Behind him, a second tiefling child freezes mid-step, her hand hovering near his pocket. 

“Well now, someone’s starting young,” Astarion says, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Who taught you that?”

“One of the big kids,” the girl answers shyly, her voice trembling. “How… how did you catch me?”

“How else? You’re clumsy. A dead man could’ve caught you,” Astarion replies without hesitation. Thiriann watches the exchange, her curiosity piqued. Astarion’s street smarts are unexpected, clashing with the image she’s built of him in her mind. He gives the impression of someone who grew up with a trust fund—or even noble blood—but now she’s second-guessing that.

“I guess I’ll try harder not to get caught next time. Bye!” the child says before darting off through the book stalls.

Suddenly, Astarion hisses and flinches, his hand flying to his arm. “Ah!” he winces. “What the—?”

They both stare in shock as his skin begins to flake rapidly, cracking and splitting like dried clay under the sun.

“No!” he snarls, his voice furious but tinged with unmistakable fear. “This can’t be happening.”

Before Thiriann can react, he turns on his heel, his movements quick and panicked. “I’m sorry, I have to go,” he says, his tone clipped and urgent.  

With that, he bolts, weaving through the crowd with surprising speed, his figure disappearing into the nearest cafe. Thiriann hesitates for only a moment before hurrying after him, her heart pounding in her chest.  

Inside, she finds him in a far corner, his back to the room as he frantically examines his hands. His shoulders are tense, his breathing uneven, and for the first time since she’s known him, he looks genuinely rattled.  

“Dammit,” he mutters under his breath. “That thieving rat.”  

“Astarion,” Thiriann says, approaching him cautiously. Her voice is laced with worry and confusion. “What happened back there? Are you hurt?”

He turns to face her, his expression softening slightly at the concern in her eyes, though his anger still simmers just beneath the surface.

“I’m fine, dear. Just that street urchin robbed me of something rather valuable. She was too slow to take my wallet but apparently fast enough for other things,” Astarion says with a grimace.

“What? The one just now?” Thiriann looks out the window, but the children are long gone, along with any trace of their belongings.

“We should make a police report,” she suggests, though even as she says it, she knows how unlikely it is to lead anywhere. 

Astarion snorts. “Yes, darling, I’m sure it’s on their top priority list to pursue thieving children,” he mocks sarcastically. “The rat can keep it. I should give her credit for managing to take it without me noticing in the first place.”

“What did she take?” Thiriann presses, her curiosity piqued.

 Astarion pauses, his crimson eyes locking onto hers. For a long moment, he seems to weigh his options, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he makes a decision.  

“I suppose there’s something I should tell you,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “It’s nothing big or terrible, just a small detail about me that hasn’t come up naturally. I happen to be… well, a vampire.”  

He laughs awkwardly at the end, the sound high-pitched and startling, as if he’s trying to downplay the weight of his confession. Thiriann blinks, processing his words.  

Her heart begins to race as the pieces fall into place. But instead of fear, she feels a strange sense of relief—as if she’s finally seeing the real him. His glinting fangs, his ruby-red eyes—there was never any room for doubt, was there?

Vampires aren’t exactly unheard of. Not since a group of monster hunters freed thousands of them from their tyrannical master centuries ago, allowing them to walk freely among the living. There are even entire cities and villages populated solely by vampires. Still, they aren’t exactly liked, and most people still fear them. His apprehension is understandable.

Gods damn it, she mentally groans. I owe Shadowheart a twenty.

“Yes, I suppose it’s obvious,”she says, her tone dry but not unkind.

Astarion looks taken aback for a moment, as if he’d been bracing for a very different reaction. His eyes flicker with something—relief? Or is it fear? —before his usual mask of confidence slides back into place.

“Right. Well then,” Astarion replies, clearly relieved she isn’t screaming or running for the door.

“But how come you were walking in the sun up until now?” she asks, tilting her head in a way that looks oddly adorable.

“That’s the thing,” he says, looking mildly embarrassed. “I had this ring—enchanted to allow me to resist the sun’s rays. And now it seems that street urchin’s made off with it.”

Thiriann raises an eyebrow. ��A Ring of Resistance? You had a Ring of Resistance? Isn’t that incredibly rare?”

“Maybe a hundred years ago,” he scoffs, waving a hand dismissively. “Now you can find them in almost every city in the Underdark. The drow started mass-producing them once they figured out it stops them from getting irritated by the sun.” He omits the part about the massive vampire population from the Underdark that also benefited from them.

“I have more at home,” he continues. “But for now, I’m forced to huddle up here until nightfall.” He grimaces, clearly unhappy with the situation.

Thiriann nods, glancing around the café, her expression thoughtful. “Alright then. Where should we sit?”  

Astarion stares, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. For a moment, he looks genuinely confused, as if suddenly remembering they’ve been having this rather revealing conversation in the corner of a public establishment. To their credit, the baristas are studiously avoiding eye contact, pretending they haven’t overheard every single word.  

The creak of a chair draws his attention, and he sees Thiriann setting her purse down on a small table tucked into an inner corner of the café. She looks up at him, her smile warm and unbothered.  

“As much as I appreciate self-sacrifice,” he says, his tone laced with sarcasm, “this isn’t your problem, darling. You shouldn’t waste your precious daylight hours skulking about in the shadows with me.”

“Is that your way of weaseling out of buying me that coffee you promised?” she asks, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

He huffs, a sound that’s equal parts disbelief and amusement. “Well, since you’re so earnestly seeking my company, I suppose I’ll just have to allow it,” He strikes a pose, ever the picture of condescending magnanimity. 

“How do you take it?” His question, as always, carries a salacious undertone, but Thiriann is getting better at ignoring it. Mostly.

“White, two sugars. Please,” she adds quickly, her politeness almost endearing.  

The word please lingers in the air, and for a moment, Astarion can’t help but picture her saying it in a myriad of entirely different contexts. He smirks, shaking off the thought as he heads to the counter to place their order.  

On the way back to their table, Astarion feels a pang of trepidation. He’s prepared for the inevitable barrage of vampire-related questions. Over the years, he’s automated most of the answers in his head, but he still doesn’t particularly like them. Each question tends to dredge up a myriad of miserable memories—an old, tedious, uncomfortable routine he’s learned to live with.  

When he reaches the table, she’s leaned forward slightly, her posture relaxed yet deliberate. He notices the first two buttons of her shirt are now open, revealing a tantalizing line of cleavage. He’s certain they were closed before he left to order. The subtle change doesn't escape him, stirring a mix of curiosity and frustration. She wants him, he’s sure of it. Yet she doesn’t respond to his flirting or try to initiate anything. Instead, she beckons him with these quiet, calculated gestures, her body inviting while her tone remains polite, formal, and utterly composed. The contrast is maddening. It makes him want to push, to see how far he can go before her mask of propriety crumbles.  

He catches her watching him, her gaze lingering on his crimson eyes, which burn with a hunger he’s all too familiar with. 

“You’re staring, darling,” he says, his voice low and teasing, as he slides into his seat.  

“So are you,” she counters, refusing to be the only one flustered. Her cheeks flush faintly, but she maintains eye contact, her lips curving into a small, defiant smile.  

He smirks, leaning back in his chair, there’s a flicker of something deeper in his expression, something that makes her heart skip a beat.  

“I can’t help it,” he admits, his voice softening. “You’re… intriguing.”  

His fang catches on his bottom lip as he speaks, and for a moment, she wonders if she’d be able to feel them if they kissed. The thought shocks her, and she shakes her head, trying to push the unexpected, intrusive image aside. 

To fill the silence, she asks the first thing that comes to mind. “So, what made you pursue law?”  

“What?” he replies, caught off guard.The question is so far from what he expected that it takes him a moment to process.  

“You’re a lawyer, right?” she asks, a flicker of confusion in her eyes.  

“Ah, well. I used to be a magistrate, a long time ago,” he starts, a shadow passing over his features. “But then I had to… retire. Rather… forcefully.” 

He pauses, his crimson eyes flickering with a distant thought. “I suppose returning to law felt like reclaiming something I’d lost.”

There’s a melancholy in his tone that he doesn’t bother to hide, and for a moment, the mask slips, revealing a glimpse of the man beneath.  

She nods, taking a sip of her latte. “So, do you enjoy it?”

“Gods, no.” His abrupt answer makes her snort with laughter into her cup.

“The paperwork never ends,” he continues, his voice dripping with mock despair, “and neither do the ceaseless grievances over the smallest things.”

He leans back in his chair, his smirk returning. “But I suppose there's a certain satisfaction in taking down corrupt, abusive bastards.

“And every now and then, someone’s ready to fight to the death over something trivial,” Astarion says, his smirk widening. “So that makes for a fine entertainment.”

He snickers, and Thiriann silently questions exactly what kind of lawyer he is but decides not to voice it. Instead, she takes another sip of her coffee, her expression thoughtful.  

“What about you, darling? How did you end up… where you are?” he asks, smoothly redirecting the conversation.

“I went to a wizards’ academy,” she begins, her tone matter-of-fact. “Graduated and enlisted in the army.”  

“The army?Really?” He scrutinizes her, a judgmental eyebrow arching high. “You’re hardly what I’d picture as the soldier type.”

She’s small, slim, and while she seems fit, she’s not muscular by any standard.  

“And the everyday lawyer is not how I pictured the vampire type,” she counters, her tone dry. “But here we are.”  

“Touché,” he concedes with a mock bow of his head.  

“I traveled all over the world while deployed,” she continues, wrapping both hands around her coffee mug, savoring the remaining warmth. “Then I came back home and needed a job.”

“And you chose… office supplies?” Astarion asks, his bewilderment slipping through despite his efforts to mask it.  

“I needed any job,” she says, taking another sip. “I was down on my luck, running out of savings, when I ran into an old acquaintance, Minthara. She hired me immediately.”

“Ah, good old-fashioned nepotism. Nothing like knowing people in high places,” he comments dryly, a hint of amusement in his tone.

“It does have its perks,” Thiriann admits, her smile turning devilish before her eyes sadden. “No one is dying to hire a ‘devil-kin,’ especially one with no experience in their field.”  

Astarion’s smirk falters for a moment, but he doesn’t press further.  

“Don’t take me wrong, it’s a very good job,” she adds quickly, “There’s something very peaceful about working around all those books. And I’m always learning something new. About history, about different cultures… even about obscure magical theories. You never know what you might stumble across in the back room.”  

“Doesn’t it ever get, oh, I don’t know… tedious?” he asks, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips, knowing full well the answer.  

Thiriann smiles, batting her eyelashes innocently before her expression shifts into one that clearly says, You fucking bet.

The two of them linger in the café for a while longer, their conversation meandering from work to travel to the absurdities of life. Astarion finds himself surprised by how easily the words flow between them, how her laughter,soft and genuine,draws him in. He hadn’t expected to enjoy himself, not truly. Yet here he is, leaning forward in his seat, a smirk playing on his lips as he recounts a particularly ridiculous story from his earlier centuries of existence involving three minotaurs and a spectator. Thiriann listens intently, her eyes sparkling with amusement, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, he realizes he’s actually having fun.  

By the time they part ways, the sun has dipped below the horizon, and the streets are bathed in the warm glow of streetlights. 

“And then what? I want all the juicy details,” Karlach asks, plopping a glass of wine on the bar counter with a grin that could only be described as trouble.  

“What details?” Astarion asks, feigning ignorance as he picks up his glass of wine. He swirls it delicately, breathing in its deep aroma. It tastes like vinegar, it always does, but at least it smells nice.  

  “Come on, fangs,” Karlach presses, beginning to dry some washed mugs. “What happened when you walked her home?”

“I, uh…” Astarion pauses, his usual confidence faltering. Despite Thiriann’s obvious interest in him, he isn’t sure if his advances would truly be welcomed. For the first time in a long time, he feels uncertain—unsure if he still has the charm he once relied on so heavily.  

“Oh, Astarion,” Karlach groans, her face etched with deep disappointment. “Don’t tell me you didn’t walk her home.”  

He remains silent, unwilling to admit the truth: that he hesitated, that he second-guessed himself.  

“You can’t be serious,” she continues, her voice rising in exasperation. “When was the last time you actually went on a date?”  

“I fail to see how that’s any of your business,” Astarion grumbles. He crosses his arms defensively, avoiding her gaze.  

Despite Karlach’s obnoxious nosing into his affairs, she manages to make him pause and think. When was the last time he’d been on a date? The last time he’d walked someone home? Once upon a time, he’d been compelled to take everyone home with him.

Lost in thought, he barely registers Karlach hissing angrily under her breath.  

“That’s it,” she declares, tossing the dishrag onto the counter with a sharp flick of her wrist. She plants her hands on her hips, her fiery eyes locking onto his. “We’re doing a romcom marathon this weekend at mine. And you will be bringing beer.”

Astarion grimaces, his nose wrinkling in annoyance. “By the gods, you have no manners at all,” he mutters, though there’s no real bite to his words. “But fine, if you insist on wasting my weekend, at least turn on the heater this time. It’s always freezing at your place.”  

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Karlach shoots back, rolling her eyes. “Maybe if you bring a date, you’ll have someone to keep you warm.”

“Charming,” Astarion responds flatly. “But I’d rather not subject anyone to your taste in ‘entertainment’.” 

“Hey!” Karlach barks, pointing a finger at him. “My taste is impeccable, thank you very much. And don’t think I won’t notice if you try to sneak out halfway through ‘Love Actually.’”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Astarion replies, though the mischievous glint in his eyes suggests otherwise.  

—--

Thiriann walks out of her shower, her hair damp and tangled as she towels it dry. Her eyes land on the bag she’d carelessly tossed by the couch earlier, and she feels a familiar pull of curiosity. With a heavy sigh, she sits down and pulls out the book, turning it over in her hands.  

In the dim light of her living room, the book looks even creepier than before. A faint purple glow oozes from its edges, like tendrils of smoke curling into the air. The face on the cover seems to watch her, its hollow eyes and gaping mouth unsettling in the stillness of the night.  

She grabs her laptop and quickly logs into the university’s database. By now, the list of known magical artifacts is practically public knowledge, and it doesn’t take long for her to find what she’s looking for. The image of the book matches perfectly: ‘The Necromancy of Thay’. According to the records, it can only be opened with a Dark Amethyst.  

Humming to herself, Thiriann wonders if she might still have one tucked away in her attic. Gods know she’s collected every trinket and oddity during her travels—surely a Dark Amethyst isn’t out of the question.  

The book is listed as one of the more dangerous items, but without a codex to fully unlock its power, it’s considered only a minor threat to civilians. It mainly teaches its owner to speak with the dead. It is supposedly useful in the medical field, criminal investigations, and… law, apparently.

Her thoughts drift to Astarion, and how his eyes had lit up when he saw the book. Did he know what it was? Was that why he’d shown such interest? She isn’t sure, but she wishes she’d asked. Then again, maybe she should stop thinking about Astarion altogether.  

But that’s easier said than done. He has a way of worming into her mind, lingering there. They’d talked for hours today, long after the sun had set, discussing everything and nothing. He’s charming, of course,that’s no surprise,but there’s more to him. He’s also witty, funny, with a dry, sharp sense of humor that could slice through a grown man like a blade.  

Thiriann can’t help but feel drawn to him. She wants to get to know him further. Despite his air of confidence and charm, there’s a certain strain about him, a lingering sadness he carries and it pulls at her in ways she doesn’t fully understand. 

 It’s in the subtle shadows that flicker across his eyes, the tremble in his voice when he speaks of his past. She finds herself wanting to understand the complexities that lie beneath his carefully constructed facade.

 But a nagging voice whispers in the back of her mind that it’s unwise to get romantically interested in a client.Crossing such boundaries is a dangerous game to play. Still, as she lies awake, her mind keeps circling back to him, to the way he makes her feel both intrigued and unsettled. She tells herself to focus, to stay professional, but the pull is there, undeniable and growing stronger with every passing moment.

[thiriann]

"Join me, won't you, darling?"

Made for the wonderful Selene Shield.

NSFW on Bluesky

[thiriann]

"Do be quiet,darling."

Full NSFW version on Bluesky

[thiriann]

Howdy Darling

[thiriann]

Elven accuracy

[thiriann]

Days of hedonistic debauchery- Ch. 2

You can also find me on AO3

Rating: Explicit

Words: 3.3k

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

Warnings: Named Tav , Multiple Orgasms, Blood Drinking, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, Falling In Love

Prompt:

"In public"

Note:

A collection of short stories depicting Thiriann and Astarion as they engage in the most hedonistic, tender, loving and consensual debauchery of their lives. A part of the 12 Days of Kinkmas 2024 BG3 Smut challenge created by ShandoraTheExplorer .

Summary:

Summary: “You've been on edge all day haven't you? Poor dear. I can give you what you need, but you have to ask for it. Do you want it?”

“I…”

She bit her lip, glancing around the camp, acutely aware of their exposed position. They were in the middle of camp, in plain sight while their companions slept around them, hushed snores coming from their tents accompanied the occasional flicker of firelight—it would be obvious to anyone who looked what they were getting up to.

Yet with him pressed so close to her, his hand buried between her legs rubbing lazy circles against her clit , she could barely think straight, feeling like she'd burst into flames from desire on the spot.

"I want you," she admitted unabashedly. "Gods, I want you."

As another eventful day drew to a close, Thiriann settled beside the roaring campfire, engrossed in a freshly plundered tome. To the casual observer, she might have seemed the picture of tranquility, but Astarion knew better. In the short weeks they'd spent together, he'd become adept at reading the subtle signs her body betrayed.

She'd been on edge all day, practically buzzing with excitement since he'd fed on her during the previous night. The memory of his last feeding lingered, the way she'd trembled beneath him, her breath catching in her throat with each deep, satisfying draught. 

Even now, her gaze was drawn to him, fixed on his form with quiet intensity. It was a familiar dance, a game he'd played countless times. Almost too easy; it always was. Yet, something about Thiriann was different. 

He should have been able to dismiss the persistent images of her in his mind, the unexpected spark of joy that came as he drank her blood for the first time and had lodged itself in his heart, stubbornly refusing to be extinguished. Nor could he ignore the connection he felt when he talked to her about his past, the genuine attentiveness and care in her eyes. 

His plan was working perfectly; he should have been happy about that. 

With him tightly glued to Thiriann's side, the others had already mostly left him alone about the whole vampire thing. Mostly. There were some occasional comments about their budding relationship but it seemed they weren’t enough to dissuade her from continuing to share his company… and his bed. Naturally, of course. He was very skilled in the art of pleasure, and he wasn’t holding back on the myriad of tricks he knew.

Some twisted part of him didn't mind it. Wanted to show her just how good he was, wanted her to know he's worth it.He tried telling himself it was because she was useful but even he couldn't believe that lie.

And another part could say he even found a certain enjoyment in it. It had felt different with her, in a strange way he couldn't exactly point out. 

He delighted in her reactions: the way she’d forget what she wanted to say when he dropped a flirtatious remark or how he could see her cheeks flush with blood at a simple wink. He had to admit it had been the most… fun than he'd had in a long time and it was getting to him.

He caught her gaze again; she looked puzzled. With some level of trepidation, he realized he'd been the one caught staring this time.

“What’s wrong? Are you hungry?” she asked, still watching him with uncertainty.

Astarion did his best to shift his expression into a predatory look, a slow smile curving his lips. “Ravenous,” he purred, his voice low and seductive.

As if on cue, her cheeks flushed, and he felt his own throat tighten. The air between them crackled with tension, a sudden stillness charged with electric anticipation.

“Alright,” she said, her voice a little shaky as she closed her book. “You can feed from me, if you want.”

"I was so hoping you’d say that, darling." he replied, moving swiftly to position himself behind her. 

There was always a certain eagerness he couldn't hide no matter how hard he tried. As if she'd rescind her offer if he took too long. 

She began to shift onto her back, but he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Now, now, there’s no need to disturb your rest. I’m more than content to drink you in like this.”

She gasped as his cold breath ghosted over her ear, raising gooseflesh all over her skin.

"Are you sure it's comfortable?" she asked calmly, though he could feel the tremor in her voice.

“Of course. Just… perfect.” He deliberately spoke the words against her flesh, his lips brushing her skin with each syllable.

She fought the urge to squirm as his touch on her nape sent sparks of arousal down her body all the way to her core.

A visible shiver ran over her form, and he heard the quickening pulse of her blood as it flowed with every heartbeat. Anticipation surged through him, the melodic sound more inviting than a harpy's song.

His lips traced the delicate curve of her neck, a gentle caress that masked the primal hunger within. The hunger that made him feel both so powerful and so vulnerable.

He bit quickly, he always did. Always eager.

The pain was sharp, piercing but there was no force behind it, no pressure on her skin to tear or on her muscles to give in. Within a moment it faded as if it never happened and the only thing that remained was him. His lips still pressed against her neck, she felt them clearly now, felt the subtle movements of his tongue, the satisfied rumble in his chest as he drank, as well as the way his grip tightened on her hips, holding her close. She hadn’t even realized when his hand had moved there.

The moment was intimate. Deeply so.

The connection between them as she offered him a part of herself, a part of her life was something she never expected or could have prepared for. This profound closeness, this shared vulnerability, always made her stomach flutter and breath quicken.

And as much as he tried to cover it with flirtatious remarks she could see the truth in his eyes, how much it meant to him. It wasn't just sustenance nor was it just about satiating a need. 

Desire pooled in her belly, hot and molten, making her head spin. Or maybe it was the blood loss that was responsible. Either way, she lay stock still, lust coursing through her, making her tremble.

She wanted more of him, inside her, around her, surrounding her until nothing else existed. In that moment, only he mattered; everything else faded away. The loneliness she carried everywhere she went, the horrors that they faced each day, the responsibility she felt towards everyone around her—she wanted to forget it all and simply feel him, just this, just them.

When he finally drew back, his lips stained crimson, the world rushed back, sobering her slightly.

Suddenly, he pulled her closer, bringing their bodies flush against each other.

She gasped at the hardness against her backside, twitching in the confines of his trousers.

“Astarion…” she whimpered. 

He traced her earlobe with a slow, deliberate lick, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. The sensation made her arch against him, seeking more friction against the one spot she wanted it most. 

"Do you want to go somewhere more private, darling? Somewhere we can indulge?” he murmured, rolling his hips sinfully against her. “ Or should I take you right here? In the middle of camp where anyone can see?" A faint whimper escaped her.

“I guess I have my answer,” he chuckled. His hand slid down her front, expertly unlacing her leather pants and pushing them past the delicious curves of her hips. His fingers slipped beneath her underwear and he reveled in the way she trembled in anticipation. Poor thing really was desperate for it.

At the first brush of his fingers against her clit, she hissed, biting her lip against the onslaught of stimulation. A sadistic impulse urged him to continue the teasing, to rub the sensitive nub again and again, wringing more pathetic whines out of her until she begged him to take her. 

He’d never felt this desire with a lover before. It was always going through the motions, waiting for it to be over, the constant threat hanging over him. But here, in the middle of camp, he felt a strange freedom to indulge in this game, just a little.

“Astarion, please,” she whispered.

Mercifully he relented, lowering his hand to part her folds. There was barely enough space between her legs, trapped as they were by her pants but his fingers were dexterous enough to easily find their way inside her. She was eager, slick dripping and coating her thighs. 

Her breath hitched as he started slowly pumping in and out of her.

“You're so wet, darling. I don't even need to lift a finger,” he murmured, hearing the quickening of her pulse in her neck,it's enticing call making his mouth water. “You've been on edge all day haven't you? Poor dear. I can give you what you need, but you have to ask for it. Do you want it?”

“I…”

She bit her lip, glancing around the camp, acutely aware of their exposed position. They were in the middle of camp, in plain sight while their companions slept around them, hushed snores coming from their tents accompanied the occasional flicker of firelight—it would be obvious to anyone who looked what they were getting up to. 

 Yet with him pressed so close to her, his hand buried between her legs rubbing lazy circles against her clit , she could barely think straight, feeling like she'd burst into flames from desire on the spot.

"I want you," she admitted unabashedly. "Gods, I want you."

He chuckled behind her, satisfaction rolling over him in waves as he began to circle his finger, applying just enough pressure to send waves of pleasure rippling through her. Thiriann arched her back, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Then you shall have me, darling,” he whispered, his tongue tracing her earlobe.

He withdrew his hand, and she heard the rustle of his trousers as he unfastened them. Then, she felt the head of his cock slide slowly, agonizingly slowly, against her. 

She keened at the sudden sensation before biting her lip trying to stifle her sounds. With her legs held tightly together by her leather trousers he felt so much bigger inside of her, stretching her walls and filling her completely.

He entered her fully, the force of their joining causing a rush of heat through her.

In this position his length could push right against the spot inside her that could drive her crazy. Unable to stop herself she moaned loudly as he finally bottomed out.

"Shh, darling. We wouldn't want to wake poor Karlach, would we?" he teased, but with some pride, she noticed he too sounded breathless.

Gods, Karlach was sleeping barely a few feet away from them. If she were to open her eyes, she'd see everything, there'd be no mistaking what activity they were indulging in.

A wave of arousal flushed over her traitorous body and she squeezed him, her walls gripping around him almost painfully.

Her hungry sex seemed to pull his cock deeper inside, and before he knew it, he had sheathed himself completely inside of her.

He let out a surprised whimper that flooded her body with heat. 

She chuckled softly. “Yes, we really should try to be quiet.”

He growled at her teasing and bit her ear in retaliation. Her reaction was instantaneous as she arched her back and pressed her ass even more firmly onto him.

“Please, Astarion,” she whispered.

“Please what, darling?”

“Please… move.”

“I don’t think so, darling. I think I’ll make you come just like this, without moving a muscle.”

“Astarion…” she whined in disappointment but he only chuckled at her misery.

“You can do it, darling. Go on, touch yourself,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over her ear. The suggestion was deliciously vulgar.

She could, with the way he was pressing inside her stretching her so fully it would take her no time at all even.

Burning with a mix of embarrassment and arousal, she lowered her trembling hand between her legs. Her fingers brushed her swollen clit, and she mewed at the contact. Slowly, she began to circle it, applying gentle pressure. She’d never touched herself in front of anyone before, and a flicker of shame mixed with the rising pleasure. 

Her body on the other hand was loving every second of it, ecstasy flooding her with every stroke as she felt herself squeezing around him tighter and tighter. Instinctively, her hips began to push back, impaling herself further on his cock, craving the friction. The closer she got to orgasm, the more desperate she became for him to move within her.

He grasped her hip, stilling her movement. “Ah-ah, no cheating, love.”

She whined again, the feel of his strong fingers gripping her skin causing a wave of anticipation to wash over her.

His cold breath against her neck sent shivers down her spine, heightening her sensitivity. She was so close, already fluttering around him. Every muscle tightened as she neared her peak. With a final sweep of her fingers, she moaned and toppled over the edge, squeezing him rhythmically as wave after wave of pleasure wracked her body.

He gasped against her neck, fighting the instinctive urge to thrust as her muscles clenched around him like a vise. But this little power play of his was way more delicious than he anticipated.

There was something rather fun about teasing her, pushing her buttons to see her squirm under his control. 

Finally, she relaxed against him, quiet gasps of exertion escaping her lips.

“Good girl” he purred in her ear and she blushed at the praise. Before she could reply, he withdrew almost completely, then thrust back in, filling her to the hilt. She gasped loudly, and he quickly covered her mouth with his hand.

“Come now, darling,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “You didn’t think we were finished, did you? You deserve a proper reward.”

Her inner muscles tightened around him, welcoming him deep. With a few slow, deliberate thrusts, he felt himself nearing his own release. 

He pulled back again, dragging his cock out until only the very tip of him inside, slick with the juices of her climax. He inhaled sharply, then pushed back in, his body flush against hers. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, gripping her sumptuous ass to adjust her position, reveling in the warm heat of her contracting walls.

A sudden rustle of fabric tore through the night, startling them both. They froze, watching as Gale emerged from his tent and headed toward the woods.

Lazily Astarion began to move his hips once again, establishing a steady pace.

“Astarion!” she whispered, a mix of protest and arousal in her voice.

“What? He left.”

“He is going to come back!”

“Do you want to stop, darling?” he asked, still fucking her leisurely. 

“No,” she breathed.

“Say it.”

“Please don’t stop, Astarion.”

“Good girl.”

In truth he didn't relish the idea of being caught like this. Intimacy in private was always preferred when he could. 

But the little deviant in his arms seemed to love the idea. Tightening up around him at every rustle or creak in the night. 

The danger of the moment seemed to heighten her sensitivity, amplifying every touch and sending ripples of sensation through her.

The wet sounds of their coupling echoed obscenely in the night. As Gale's footsteps got louder and louder Thiriann felt the rush of panic and arousal rise in her chest. Her heartbeat sped up enticing him with it's melody just as she started fluttering around him again. 

She tried to stifle her gasps, but they escaped her lips as she neared her peak once more. 

Her hand shot up desperately trying to muffle herself as she was sent careening to the edge.

With a final, exquisite touch, she cried out softly, her body shuddering.

The world narrowed to Astarion. His touch felt electric, every point of contact magnified.

She quaked through the aftershocks, each one less intense as she remembered how to breathe again.

“Thiriann?” Gale’s voice called out, breaking through her pleasured haze. “Hey, Gale…It’s me and… Astarion. He was… hungry,” she managed, fighting impossibly hard to keep her voice steady.

She could only pray his eyes make out what was happening between them in the dark.

“I see,” Gale replied. “Carry on, if you must. But I implore you to exercise a modicum of discretion in the future. Perhaps a more private location would be better suited for such activities.”

She had no idea how he could still be half asleep and carry out a lecture like that.

“Right. Sorry, Gale.”

Relief washed over her as Gale retreated into his tent, closing it firmly for good measure. She relaxed against Astarion’s chest, a blissful smile on her face and he felt his own lips tug upwards.

Brushing a sweaty stand of hair from her forehead he caressed her cheek and turned her face towards him.

“Did you enjoy that darling?”

“It was incredible.” she whispered, her smile widening. Something tightened in his chest at her happy expression and he leaned down taking her lips in his. She responded by gently pressing hers back, barely a kiss but it send a shiver through him. His ignored member twitched inside of her and she gasped into his mouth.

“You still haven’t…?” she murmured.

“Don't fret darling. It was plenty satisfying bringing you to ecstasy. It's all the fulfillment I need.”

“You can… continue, if you want. Until you finish,” she suggested shyly.

He hesitated before schooling his face into a more practiced, nonchalant expression. “I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable should this end up taking too long.”

“I don’t mind if it does,” she said softly. “Take your time. I want you to feel good.”

Those words struck him with unexpected force, cracking his carefully constructed facade. Two centuries, countless lovers, and not one had bothered saying those words to him before. A genuine desire for his pleasure, freely offered. It was disarming.

He nodded stiffly, looking away before resuming his movements. Focusing on her and her pleasure was the only thing he was used to, and he felt strangely adrift, unsure of how to proceed when the focus was meant to be on himself.

He wrapped both arms around her middle, pulling her tightly to his body, burying his face in the back of her neck.

She responded by gently holding his hands in hers as she began to move against him, her hips grinding against his, trying to help him along.

He chased his pleasure, the sounds of their lovemaking growing louder in the night. She was incredibly sensitive; each thrust sent a wave of pleasure through her, so intense it bordered on pain, yet the feeling of him growing thicker inside her, his moans vibrating against her neck, was pure unadulterated bliss.

Her quiet moans filled the air as his pace quickened. He was so close, so very close but that precipice was so hard to reach sometimes. 

He rutted into her with a raw, almost wild abandon, his desperation becaming evident.

With an aborted, surprised gasp, he went hurtling over the ledge he’d been tiptoeing on since they began. He grunted and surged forward, burying himself fully within her as his seed spilled into her, finally releasing the tension that had been building within him.

White spots danced in his vision as he began to descend from the peak. Distantly he noticed her fingers were tracing idle circles on his arms as he slowly came down.

“Fangs?” Karlach’s voice, thick with sleep, cut through the night, making them separate instantly. “Bring me one of them boars you catch, okay? I’m starving…” she mumbled before rolling to her side and letting out a sleepy snore.

Astarion looked at her in disbelief and a touch of affront before he heard Thiriann snickering.

“I guess you’re on food duty tonight.”

He tucked himself back into his pants, shaking his head slightly at the absurdity of it all. 

Gods, they’d fucked in the middle of camp like a pair of green youths. Even he had to admit he’d gotten a little carried away in his desire to tease her.

 “Thank you, Astarion. I needed that,” she said, kissing his cheek.

It was a peck, barely a kiss really, a simple thank you. Yet it was sweet, almost as sweet as her blood. He had no idea what to do with it so he resorted to his practiced charm.

“You know where to find me if you find yourself in need of assistance in the future again, darling,” he said with a practiced, flirtatious smirk. “My tent is always open.”

And with that, he hurriedly walked into the woods.

[thiriann]

🎄The Christmas raffle winner has been drawn! 🎄 Thank you to everyone who joined! I hope you all had a good time around the holidays and wish you all a wonderful year ahead! 💚

There is one winner from each platform I've posted this raffle on. The winner from tumblr : @arthur-kawaii

Santastarion is making a list and checking it twice ( but let's be honest we've all been naughty 😉 )

🎄CHRISTMAS RAFFLE!🎄

One person will receive a 3D render of either one companion or two companions together (whichever you prefer)

🌟This giveaway is with companions only, no Tavs this time around.

🌟BG characters only

To participate: follow, like and repost

Ends on: 5th of January 2025

I'm also running this even on X and Bluesky . I'll be drawing one winner from each platform. You can participate in all three if you'd like.

Happy Holidays everyone!

[thiriann]

── ｡3k Followers Art Raffle ✦

Okayyueyey I finaly did hit 3k followers some time ago so here we go. Thank you for following me ​🥰​🤍

✦ Prize: Fully rendered portrait (bust) of your OC or fandom character of your choice.

! Ends on January 11th !

✦ To Participate:

You must be following me. (new followers are welcome to join!)

Like AND reblog this post.

Reblogging multiple times might increase the chances of winning.

No giveaway accounts.

✦ Rules:

No furries/ mecha.

1 winner will be randomly selected. Winner will be tagged.

I will contact the winner via DM's, make sure they're open.

I will choose a new winner if the first one will not get in contact within 2 days.

Good luck!!✨

[thiriann]

"I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone"

Last post for the year! Happy New Year!

[thiriann]

What are your Headcanons after the events in Baldurs Gate3 ?

Thank you so much @oonalovesastarionssimpleplan for tagging me 💜

1. Who is your romance?

Astarion. From the start it was always just him.

2. Where do you live?

On the road. I think from the moment him and Thiriann leave Baldur's Gate they just don't stop. A couple of weeks in Amn, a month or two in Neverwinter, maybe a little longer in Candlekeep because good luck getting a wizard away from that library. They just go all over.

3. Who always cleans up and decides on the furnishings?

I am somewhat ashamed to say I picture them both being on the messy side. Astarion mostly decides the appearance of their possessions- pillows, tent,blankets while Thiriann deals with the practical things they'll need.

4. Which companions do you have the most contact with?

Gale and my dearest co-op Tav who is in Avernus. Thiriann would pester Gale by sending him tomes from cities all over hoping one would contain something that can help Astarion walk in the sun.

5. Has a companion died or are you at odds?

No one died. I think it's actually Gale that Thiriann had a strained relationship with but became very close friends by the end.

6. Where is Scratch?

While I would like for him to be with Shadowheart, it seems he found a home with lovely people and kids to play with. I just hope if he ever finds himself alone again he'll know her door is always open.

7. What is your next adventure?

Thiriann and Astarion will look for a way for him to walk in the sun again. I'm actually writing a fic about it and hope to post it in the new year.

No pressure : @ajsemprini @wisdom-by-pain @khywren @blueguildhunter @kryptoseyvyian @shandoratheexplorer

[thiriann]

Days of hedonistic debauchery- Ch. 1

You can also find me on AO3

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1.9k

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

Warnings: Named Tav , Near Death Experiences, Riding, Vaginal Sex, Protective Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Established Relationship

Prompt:

"fuck, we survived"-sex

Note:

A collection of short stories depicting Thiriann and Astarion as they engage in the most hedonistic, tender, loving and consensual debauchery of their lives. A part of the 12 Days of Kinkmas 2024 BG3 Smut challenge created by ShandoraTheExplorer .

Summary:

With a single, effortless motion, he swept her into his lap. Thiriann responded with equal fervor, bracing one hand against the metal wall by his head and tangling the other in his hair. She kissed him everywhere she could reach – his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his chin. Butterfly kisses that quickly escalated into a desperate hunger as he captured her mouth again, his tongue plunging inside. He tasted more blood there, and the horror of it, combined with his desire, drove him to pull her closer. He felt her heart pounding against his chest, a wild rhythm that he imagined his own would have if it still beat.

Just as he moved to claim her neck, a cough broke the spell. Wyll, looking distinctly uncomfortable, cleared his throat.

Astarion scrambled up the ladder, his boots clattering against the metal as the vile screeches of the sea monsters echoed behind him. He'd made it. Somehow, he'd made it. The warm light of the submarine felt like a sanctuary, and he drew in a ragged breath of relief. The vessel was packed – rows and rows of prisoners, gnomes, humans, his companions. All except one. Panic surged through him as he frantically scanned the faces, but Thiriann was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is she?” he demanded, turning to Wyll, his voice tight with worry.

“She hasn't returned yet. We thought she was with you.”

“We can’t stay any longer!” the captain interjected, his voice rising in alarm. “The prison’s about to blow, and we along with it!”

"We can't just leave her here!" Astarion hissed. "I’m going back. Do not go anywhere!"

He leaped down the hatch, ignoring the ladder. The impact jarred through him, his knee taking the brunt of the landing. A sharp sting shot up his leg, but he pushed through it. Water already swirled around his knees, the prison flooding rapidly. His eyes darted around, searching for any sign of her. Then, he saw it – a flash of bright blue light followed by Thiriann's angry swearing. He raced towards the source, finding her surrounded by a wall of ice, several dead Sahuagin hunters bobbing nearby.

“Darling, we need to go, now!” he shouted, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards him.

“Astarion, wait! My leg is caught in a net!”

“Damn it!” He unsheathed his dagger and knelt beside her, cutting the ropes swift as an arrow. An explosion rocked the prison from above, muffled by the roar of the sirens.

"Hells!" he swore as the water around him splashed. He glanced back to see another sea monster crumpling under the impact of Thiriann's ice magic. Removing the last of the net he stood up grabbing her by the arm again.

“Can you walk?” he urged.

She took a tentative step, wincing. “I don’t think so. Wait.” She began to cast a spell. “Hold onto me.”

He pressed her close, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist. A blinding flash of light erupted, and the world seemed to tear apart, revealing a swirling vortex of pure energy. Thiriann pushed them both through, and Astarion braced himself for the impact. But there was none. When he opened his eyes, they were back in the submarine, and Thiriann was shouting orders at the captain to step on it.The vessel lurched forward, throwing both of them against the back wall. They tumbled to the floor, their limbs still entangled. Finally, they looked at each other. Both were sweating, panting, Astarion's hair a complete mess, and Thiriann's top was covered in a slime she refused to identify.

She let out a shaky laugh, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting her. “I can't believe…” she began, but her words were cut off by a pair of strong hands cupping her face, pulling her into a searing kiss.

She tasted of salt and blood, not all of it hers.It only fueled the fire within him. His lips moved against hers fiercely, devouring her surprised gasps. His heart was still caught in his throat, adrenaline surging through him. The fear, the elation, the sheer madness of it all – it was intoxicating. The urge to possess her was overwhelming. With a single, effortless motion, he swept her into his lap. Thiriann responded with equal fervor, bracing one hand against the metal wall by his head and tangling the other in his hair. She kissed him everywhere she could reach – his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his chin. Butterfly kisses that quickly escalated into a desperate hunger as he captured her mouth again, his tongue plunging inside. He tasted more blood there, and the horror of it, combined with his desire, drove him to pull her closer. He felt her heart pounding against his chest, a wild rhythm that he imagined his own would have if it still beat.

Just as he moved to claim her neck, a cough broke the spell. Wyll, looking distinctly uncomfortable, cleared his throat. The thick fog of desire dissipated, sobering them both a fraction and leaving a sharp sense of self-awareness. They turned to look at him, and Astarion growled in annoyance. The low rumble sent a shiver down Thiriann's spine, flooding her with heat. She yearned to kiss him again, to press herself shamelessly against the undeniable hardness beneath her until they were both breathless. But one look at the people around them, all pointedly looking away, discouraged her from any such notions.

"Sorry, Wyll," she mumbled, reluctantly sliding off Astarion’s lap and sitting beside him.

A part of her felt like they were youths chastised by their professor and couldn't help but smile at the image.

Astarion let her go, though the loss of her warmth left a gaping void within him. A restless energy still thrummed beneath his skin, drawing him back to her like a powerful magnet. The rest of the submarine ride was mercifully short, and with the last prisoner gone, he pulled her back into his lap, needing to feel her close again.

“Astarion, what-”she began, but her words were once again lost beneath his hungry kiss.

He held her close, his arms a tight embrace.

"I want to feel you," he murmured against her mouth. "All of you."

Heat bloomed in her belly at his words, and she responded immediately, just as hungry for him, tongue licking into his mouth and meeting his in a heated dance.

She broke away to glance at the now firmly closed latch. Astarion took the opportunity, his lips tracing the delicate curve of her neck, nipping gently at the sensitive skin there. A shiver ran through her, and she arched slightly into him.

"We'll have to be quick," she moaned, her voice a breathy surrender.

"That is regrettably guaranteed, my dear," he chuckled, the sound low and predatory, knowing it wouldn’t take long for either of them. His hands moved over her, urgent and searching, driven by a whirlwind of desire. Astarion kissed her with a hunger Thiriann had rarely seen. It was as if her taste, her scent, were his only lifeline, and he was desperate to consume every breath she took. She let him, yielding the intensity of his touch, her fingers tangling in his hair. His hands slid up her thighs, cupping her full ass in his palms, kneading the soft flesh. He pushed her skirt higher, revealing the smooth, silky skin beneath.

Astarion’s mind went blank as Thiriann rolled her hips against his member through his slacks. Her heat radiated through him, inviting and tempting and he couldn’t stop his hips from bucking against the pressure, a needy groan escaping his throat. She did it again and again bringing more of the delicious friction that verged on painful as his pants tightened around him even further.

Impatiently he pushed her underwear aside, fingers teasing her entrance, dipping just slightly inside. He felt her tremble beneath his touch, her breath quickening. At the same time, she unlaced his pants and freed him, his erection springing free. She lifted herself above him, teasingly gliding his cock along her wetness making him groan, his patience wearing thin with each agonizing second. He'd intended to at least try to be gentle but she had other plans. With one swift movement she sank down, taking him fully.

“Hells!” he hissed, biting his lip hard to stifle the groan that threatened to tear from him. A raw, guttural sob escaped his chest, a sound of pure, unbridled pleasure.

Thiriann pulled him closer, into another all-consuming kiss, a welcome distraction as her muscles slowly relaxed around him. Her thighs tightened around his hips, wordlessly urging him to move, and so he did, with vigor. Putting one hand behind for leverage he began thrusting up into her, his movements a forceful, rhythmic pounding.

She bounced on his lap, establishing a fast, steady rhythm. Astarion gripped her tightly with the hand still on her ass, his fingers digging into her skin as he lost himself in the sensation. The metal floor scraped against Thiriann’s knees, but she didn't care, not when he was staring up at her in wonder, cheeks flushed with whatever blood he'd managed to , and mouth parted, a sheen of her saliva glistening along his lower lip.

The vessel swayed violently with their movements, water crashing against its hull. It was undoubtedly obvious what they were doing, but he couldn’t care less. At that moment, there was nothing but them.

The world had narrowed down to the taste of her mouth, the feel of her body against his and the raw, primal pleasure that consumed him. He thrust harder, angling his hips with a desperate need to find that spot within her, to carry them both to the precipice. Thiriann’s back arched, a low moan rumbling from her throat as he found it, his movements becoming precise and driven. Tremors ran through her, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tightened impossibly around him, nearing her own bliss. Astarion gripped her waist, urging her to meet his thrusts as they chased their peak.

It was embarrassingly quick. Astarion’s hips faltered, his orgasm taking them both by surprise. A strangled, pleasure-filled cry escaped him, awakening something primal inside her. She rode him into oblivion, her heat trying to draw every last sensation from him as his body quaked and shuddered beneath her. Waves of pleasure crashed over him in relentless succession, each one more intense than the last. He cried out again, his voice hoarse, his fingers digging into her back as if trying to anchor himself to her amidst the storm. She felt the tension coiling tighter and tighter within her belly, a spring wound to its breaking point.

With a final, deep thrust, she felt the world tilt, her own climax erupting in a cascade of pure sensation. Every nerve ending in her body sang as a torrent of ecstasy pulsed through her, leaving her breathless and clinging to him. Finally, the fog cleared, and a wave of exhaustion washed over him. He slumped against her, his skin clammy and slick with sweat and seawater. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin, still warm and flushed. A moment of quiet passed, broken only by their ragged breaths and the gentle rocking of the submarine. He lifted his head, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were soft, a gentle smile playing on her lips. She brushed a stray strand of hair from his face, her fingers lingering on his cheek.

“Are you alright?” he murmured, his voice rough.

Thiriann nodded, her smile widening. “More than alright,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Me too,” he admitted, a rare sincerity in his voice. He felt a profound sense of contentment, a quiet joy that settled deep within him.

She stood up eventually, and he noticed a stray droplet of blood drip down her knee. His eyes softened as he leaned to her, tracing it with his tongue before kissing over the scrape. The tenderness of the gesture made her chest squeeze, emotion swelling within. She helped him stand up on his shaky legs. His muscles trembled, the ache in his bones threatening to pull him back down. She laced their arms together, both leaning on each other for support. "Come on." She said kissing his cheek "Let's get back to camp."

[thiriann]

First Camp finished! Comm for @thiriann 🩷

available for download on patreon

[thiriann]

Santastarion is making a list and checking it twice ( but let's be honest we've all been naughty 😉 )

🎄CHRISTMAS RAFFLE!🎄

One person will receive a 3D render of either one companion or two companions together (whichever you prefer)

🌟This giveaway is with companions only, no Tavs this time around.

🌟BG characters only

To participate: follow, like and repost

Ends on: 5th of January 2025

I'm also running this even on X and Bluesky . I'll be drawing one winner from each platform. You can participate in all three if you'd like.

Happy Holidays everyone!

[thiriann]

Astarion and Mauria

While technically a scene from Ch9 of Star Crossed, this is who they will always be in my heart. No matter what other directions I might take them in. 💕

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58778209

Art by @thiriann