#bg3 fanfiction

[vcrarts]

Quick WIP sketch 😈 what can I say this is a pose and look I like on magic man.

I’ll be back posting regularly after this weekend 🖤

[thekindredcollective]

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[galeorderbride]

Forgiving the Flame for a Burn - Zevlor x F!Tav Fic Request

An angst/comfort/smut piece for @evocationwriter. Thank you so much for asking me to do this piece, I adore you! Xx

This is SMUT (tags/details below)

18+ MDNI

Summary:

One year after the defeat of the Elder Brain, Tav is trying to settle into daily life. But being a hero means the making of enemies, and Tav ends up on the wrong side of the city, with the wrong kinds of people.

That is, until a charming, former Hellrider steps in, saving her from the worst and taking her into his home for the night.

Tags: angst, comfort, smut. Unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f receiving), light orgasm denial, tail play, tiefling anatomy (infernal ridges, forked tongue), religious language used; some detailed depictions of a violent attack (beating to be specific)

Word count: 5k

Zevlor x F!Tav

No one talks about the end of a hero’s journey. Tav found herself thinking of that often, ever since the Elder Brain fell by the hand of her and her companions. Subjects of bard’s songs and children’s puppet performances, all of them bending to the whim of ‘thank yous’ and questions about adventures. All of them fading over time into nothing. People moved on, they had to, of course. Rebuilding homes, restarting businesses, schools and cleaning up parks. Life went on, and the looks of admiration as she’d wander the streets dissolved.

Needless to say, that wasn’t all bad. Walking around the city gave her a sense of anonymity she’d missed in the year since the brain’s defeat. While she had fond memories of children asking for autographs and telling tales at the Elfsong to curious attendees, the harassment and threats from those who felt nostalgia for the cult of the Absolute soured the experience. Every time she’d think about it, memories of Stone Lord exiles and concealed Banites taunting her with torture fled to mind.

Now, she could relax. Bask in the beauty of city living with no one to bother her (other than letters from her companions and comrades, which always excited her). Evening slowly began to fall, a wondrous sunset disembarking for the night as shopkeepers lit sconces outside their doors and brought in their signs. Fishmongers and tradesmen met in the streets to coalesce at either the Blushing Mermaid or the Elfsong. Parents corralled their children to follow them home after a day at the markets. Tav walked among them, smiling at the peace of normality she’d never forget again.

On nights like this one, Tav would look up above the Elfsong and see Alfira strumming her lute on the balcony. By now, she’d been giving lessons to children at her very own music studio for the last three or four months. Even then, she’d still go up to that rooftop and sing her heart out. Tav felt remorse every time she gazed upon the dazzling tiefling, guilt in her heart that, rather than enjoy the music, her soul yearned for the presence of a different tiefling entirely.

A year since she saw Zevlor at the final battle. A year since she’d discovered he survived. A year—and not a single letter. Everyone else reached out to her but him. In the weeks following, she wracked her brain for anything she might’ve said wrong. Any word that could be taken as an insult. Only he knew, and that would be just so forever.

She ignored the chest aches now, and the tingling in her abdomen that sometimes made her knees shake. Hoping one day they’d fade away like her fame. One outlived the other.

Was he even in Baldur’s Gate anymore?

Clearing her throat, she kept walking. Straightening her shoulders. New bottles of dye clinked against each other in her basket, held close to her stomach. In her daydream, the clock tower struck nine, startling her as she realized she’d been standing there for too long.

“Shit,” she whispered under her breath, forced to face her newfound fear of walking alone outside ever since anonymous former cultists began to harass her. She chastised herself for going today, irritated that she didn’t just wait until tomorrow morning.

Sticking to the main road, Tav hurried her step through the emptying streets. The end of a tenday, people looking for a rowdy night out were trickling into every space they could get drunk. Irrationality kicked in, everyone became an enemy, and no one had even noticed her yet. She repeated in her mind: Tav, get yourself together, you fought an elder brain. You can take anything a mere civilian can hit you with. Just walk.

Halfway home, things were normal. Everyone ignored her, and she felt her shoulders begin to calm as she neared her destination. The sky grew dark, only the light of the crescent moon peering behind the overcast lit her way. Little droplets of rain began to dot her face, she lifted her cape hood for shelter. Right as heavy footsteps trailed behind. The jungle of buckled boots and a person at least twice her size, she could discern that without even looking.

“The hero of Baldur’s Gate! Walking about these parts alone at night. Guess you don’t need brains to be a saviour, huh?” The voice behind her said. A man with a gravelly voice, slurred with drunkenness and malice.

Tav tried to ignore him, swallowing her fear as she kept walking at a brisk stride. One or two minutes and she’d be home. Counting the seconds, in tandem with the footsteps continuing to pursue her. Now in a quiet street, no one was around to help or witness whatever the man behind her had planned.

“Don’t run off so quick, sweet one! Sing me one of those ballads made about you! Bet it’ll sound sweet gurgling out of your throat when I cut it!” He chided, a growl so feral within him she could mistake him for a wild animal.

Another voice poked through an alleyway she passed, another men bumping her with his shoulder, rough enough to send her steps back against a wall. He said, “Father will love this at his temple doorstep, brother.”

Bhaalists. She should’ve known the ones to keep pestering her after all this time would be them. Likely a worse nightmare than anyone else, given their propensity for insane, maniacal violence. Were they even drunk? Or was that a farce to blend in with the city?

“Leave me be! I’ve killed more than you for less,” she said, sucking in her frightened breath.

Both of them cornered her, trudging towards her and beginning to push her around between the two. Smaller than both of them, she struggled to fight back as her basket of dyes shattered to the ground. Catching them off guard just quick enough for her to throw a punch in the face of one. He fell back, grunting in pain as the other smacked Tav against the brick wall. A sharp ache ran across her spine, the wind knocked out of her to completion when the one she punched slammed his fist into her stomach.

Gasping for breath, they let her collapse to the ground. Holding her abdomen tight, the roof of her mouth dryer than sand. Catching impossible air as the two paced around her, predators toying with their prey. That hit to her stomach so hard that she couldn’t find the strength to get up let alone fight back. Gods, was she really done in so quickly? Had she softened so much in just a year?

Most of the time, they were four at least. Now, she was one. And defeated in a matter of minutes. Dye stained her clothing as she twitched around the ground, feeling a harsh sting of hands clawing at her hair, pulling her back.

“Not so heroic now, are you?” The one that held her hair teased, giggles oozing with evil.

“Enough dawdling,” said the other, sheathing out a sharp, shining knife. “Tie her up to take her to the temple.”

Right when they began to tie the rope around her, a swing of a longsword sliced across one’s throat. Tav didn’t see all of it, still reeling from the punch. But the second one began to fight against her rescuer. Behind her writhing body, the sound of punching, stabbing and armour sliding against leather permeated the air.

And then nothing. Quiet air mixing with laboured breath, a few growling sighs to follow. Ones she recognized after a few seconds. A calming but assertive tone that used to excite her beyond belief.

“Z—,” she tried to say his name, but coughed instead. Recovering from the punch to the gut, breathless all the same.

Warm arms wrapped around her, lifted into an embrace healing her in seconds. Heat coursing within each injured vein, the tender flesh of a tiefling’s hold. Her head hung back against his arm, aching stomach muscles jolting. But the rest of her soul eased with the shelter of safety, letting him take her wherever he deemed right.

It could’ve been minutes. Or hours. Awakening in a soft bed covered in thick furs and clean sheets. Glowing candlelight against stone walls and the blurry flame of a burning fireplace. Sparks flew across the mantle as a broad shouldered, tailed man threw another log in. Trickling liquid poured from a clay pot, steaming scents of green tea and lemon soothing her into full awareness. No more pain, other than a small ache in her abdomen. For a second, she wondered if she’d died.

Tav shifted on the mattress, wincing from her sore muscles. At the corner of her eye were her dye-soaked clothes, hanging to dry after being washed. Bare arms and legs slid around the linen fabric of her ivory slip. Hair swept back from her face in a loose, well done braid.

“Am I dead?” She whispered, groaning out remnants of her voice as if she’d forgotten she had one.

The man turned from the fireplace, rushing to the bedside. Seating himself on the stool directly next to her, she could clearly make out the weathered, handsome features of Zevlor. Pouring tea like an old friend, not someone who’d been silent for a year.

“Not dead, Tav. You can’t imagine how glad I am that you’re awake. After those mongrels attacked you…I feared the worst,” he said, handing her the small cup as she sat up. Zevlor outstretched his hand as she winced, but pulled back before he could touch her.

Her eyes closed with the peace of green tea on the tongue. Pushing away the thoughts of the attack, burdened by yet another memory of pain. She chose another route, “You saved me. I don’t know how you found me but thank you, I owe you for such a gesture.”

With a cordial nod of a soldier, he said, “Think nothing of it. I—well, it’s a long story but I’ve made a living through private security. I was coming home from a job when I saw you in the street. Found you just in time before you slipped into that alleyway.”

She cupped the mug in her hands, resting on her cross-legged lap. A skipped beat of her heart went aflutter when she caught Zevlor’s eyes linger over her bare legs, and back to her face in a split second.

“I didn’t even know you were in the city,” she said, “It’s been so long since we’ve talked.”

Zevlor shifted, eyes darting away from her to every other corner of the room. The place was small, fit for a single man who didn’t want for much. Exactly him, melding in with the space as he paced around with his arms crossed. Keeping his distance as he always did even when they had fought together, even after the celebration…

“Certainly, I owe you an apology for that. There is still much agony in going into it but—I was in a bad way after the final battle. An injury of the mind, if you will. Times were hard, too hard to reach out to you with any confidence,” he explained.

“I expected no less, after all that happened. Only that, well I thought we’d become close. That maybe you’d find some peace through my support. But,” she trailed off as her hands shook, shock of what happened to her still dominant over her, “seems you supported me.”

Her feet hit the cold floor, trying to stand up while wobbling about. Just as her hips moved off the mattress, she stumbled downward. Zevlor strode over, hooking his arms around her, lifting her back onto the bed. In her panic, she clutched him without mercy. Holding him so close to her that he fell forward, knees landing on the bed as she lay under him. Hovering over her, he saw the quick rise and fall of her chest, struggling to properly exhale. Bringing him back to their moment alone at the Grove celebration, when he comforted her, held her as she wrestled with the fear she had to hide for her companion’s sakes. Here he was again, taking one, brave move to slide the strap of her slip back onto her shoulder.

“Zevlor…please don’t leave,” she said as she felt him move away, feeling his heart shred at the discomfort of being so close. No matter how much he craved it. Craved her.

He sighed, “You’re terrified, shocked from what happened. I don’t want to get in your way and make things worse.”

As he pulled away, she stabilized her tremored hand by grasping his wrist, “You haven’t made things worse. Remember when you sat with me at the party? When I confessed to you how afraid I was of everything? You helped me so much back then, how could now be any different?”

Zevlor faced away, staring into the firelight as Tav waited. He could not retreat from the visions of their last meeting. How she cried to him, and told him she felt safe in the comfort of his arms. Sitting in a grassy, humid corner away from the rest of the guests. Sheltered by fern leaves and flowers, he let her talk and talk about all that troubled her. Felt so touched by her vulnerability that he shared his own worries too. Two of them, absorbed in isolating fear and finding each other in the dark. Hands wandering around with each kind word, and then the arousing jolt of remembering her naked flesh against his. Tail wrapped around her ankle while they made love under the plant covered moonlight. So beautiful under him, sensations he never thought he’d experience again.

He thought of making her his again so many times after. But in between then and now, he kept failing. Falling into disorder and defeat. People dying for his mistakes. Who would want someone like that? A man so past his prime he verged on cowardice, next to the hero of Baldur’s Gate. How could that ever make sense?

“Both of us were vulnerable at that time. You’re recovering from an attack, and…well, I know you appreciate honesty. My body is so excited from the fight, and from seeing you again, that if I get close enough I might take you here and now. Even though I’d come to regret being so forceful,” he explained.

Hot shame filled every corner of his face just for saying it. Avoiding her gaze even as she took deep breaths, standing from the bed again. This time, with success. Still slow, but steady in each step closer to Zevlor by the fireplace.

“You were always so hesitant about what you wanted,” Tav said, close behind him. The glow of the fire warmed one side of her exposed arms, fingers tickling against the fabric of his cotton shirt. Brushing the tip of her nose against his spine, taking in the scent of brimstone and pine. Her strength regained with each graze of her palm against him, light and teasing.

“I venture to deserve the things I want first,” he said, head down towards the flame. Closing his eyes to the feeling of Tav’s hand sliding from the back of his arm to the top of his hand. Rested on the mantle as she gave a gentle squeeze.

“Isn’t that up to me to decide?” She asked, taking the strap he once adjusted in place and pulling it down again. “You saved my life today. And I missed you terribly, Zevlor.”

Hand in hand, she turned him to face her. Tall and soldierly in front of her, head craning up to face him in all his glory. Fire crackled before them, leading her hand guiding his to her waist. His nails craved to dig into her skin, pull her close and never let go. She tiptoed into his embrace, other arm around her back, forming a gentle, passionate hug. Feeling her skin against his again, he was happy to die that moment.

“Are you sure this is what you want tonight? It was not my intention when I took you in to do this,” he said, wondering if she heard a word he said. She pushed their faces closer, lips hovering around each other. Temptation already too difficult bear as his mouth opened to bite into her supple flesh, but stopped short. “I won’t be able to control myself if you allow me this.”

Tav’s cool breath danced along his tongue, a full body desire to sob over how much she wanted him. To do what they did last time and pretend the world didn’t exist.

“You make me feel safe, Zevlor. I’ve been on my guard ever since we parted. Do you know how wonderful it feels to just…relax? Please, I want you near me. Inside me all night. Just like at the Grove. Hold me, Zevlor,” Tav said, her voice a crescendo of emotion from whisper to yelp.

Words weren’t enough, he had to be shown. Tav ruminated that very idea ever since they last parted. How a commander of a group like the Hellriders could end up so unsure of himself. Maybe he wasn’t always like that, but he was now. And she wasn’t inclined to change a thing. She laced her fingers under the straps of her slip, letting the fabric slowly waterfall off her body. In the wake of her naked form before him, she swore she could hear his beating heart. Rapid and fiery like the burning glimmer of the room.

“Can you promise me one thing?” He asked, hands pressed against her cheeks, lifting her eyes up to him. Round and ablaze with desire, warm and cool at the same time.

“Anything,” she whispered.

“Do not leave in the morning,” he said.

“I’ll never leave if that’s what you require.”

It was a kiss like never before. A whirlwind heart attack imploding between the two of them. Zevlor’s soul rose out of his body, taken over by the beckoning ache of her open mouth, welcoming his forked tongue. Tav melted into him, relishing in the hot pleasure of pressing her bare body against his clothed one. She clawed at his belt, longing for the image of his warrior frame above her. Scarred and toned by years of combat. Tail swivelling back and forth, a supplicant tying around her supple thigh.

Their voices hummed into each other, a hymn of blossoming want. Walking in tandem to the bed as Zevlor climbed over her, shuddering at the pleasure of pushing between her legs. He sat up on his knees, stretching his flexed back muscles as he pulled off his cotton shirt. A tingling sensation spread between Tav’s legs, cool air biting at her wet, sensitive core. She couldn’t resist the urge to run her hands across his torso, savouring every scar and mark, repeating her movements when he’d moan. His belt jingled below, unclasped as the imprint of a large erection outlined his pants. He was an impressive man…everywhere.

“Pull them down slowly, I want to see,” Tav ordered, voice dark and wistful with lust.

“At your command, my beautiful goddess,” he said, a low growl vibrating from the back of his throat. Taking slow, painful time in pulling down his trousers. Tav bit her lip, the excitement almost too much. A little tuft of pubic hair opened the door to a long, thick shaft, bouncing against Zevlor’s stomach when it finally broke free. Her mouth watered, licking up the collection of desperate saliva at the top corner of her lip.

Her heart fluttered, body hot and assured unlike before. That was the spell Zevlor had her under since they’d met. Empowering her just from being close, reminding her of the strength she still had. Not a thing of the past, but something to be embraced. And now, she had a chance to stay with him for more than a night. Protect each other, and revel in their primal need to be attached.

Discarding his pants with the rest of his clothes, Zevlor lowered, kissing between her bare breasts and down to her stomach. Heartfelt, exciting tickles made her giggle with a flirtatious ring. Shivering at the scratches his nails left in their stead. Relaxing every nerve within as she lay in his embrace, letting him take the lead. She hoped he’d always give her a chance to let go this way, think about nothing other than the pleasure he’d cover her in.

Between peppered kisses and flicks of his tongue along her stomach, he whispered, “You’re mine, I’ve wanted you to be since the moment I saw you. I’ll protect you, keep you safe. Come here.”

With untold force, Zevlor swung Tav’s legs onto his shoulders, capturing her cunt in his mouth. Jolts of ecstasy wet and savoured with each slide of his tongue across her clit. Sucking, licking, moaning into her without any attempt to catch his breath. Driven each time he tasted more of her essence. Unbridled to the point where she had to hold his horns to keep balance. The temperature of his hellfire skin stimulated her even more, muscles tightening with every weakened, whimpering moan that escaped her. Assertive, but slow, gentle even as he became primal against her. Letting the rhythm take her exactly where she needed to be.

Tav’s moans fluttered like butterflies, one hand clutching his horn and the other falling over her eyes, focusing on the chase of that wonderful high. Vampiric biting down of her lip, containing her innate need to be even louder. There would be time for that. Tonight, she wanted to sink into him, fall into a calming, warm pool of passionate affection. Enjoy the sensation of his body becoming a vessel for her pleasure, moving his tongue in just the way she liked.

Between tiny gasps, Tav said, “Zevlor…you’re going to make me cum. Please don’t stop…please.”

He didn’t reply, too focused on slurping up every trickle of sex that dripped out of her. He simply moaned, muffled by the soft grind of her pussy against his face. Building up to a climax that bloomed throughout her body, arching her back as she rode out an orgasm she had no idea she craved so deeply until it happened. He’d refuse to let her stop a second early, continuing to circle his tongue around her clit until she shook with sensitivity.

She melted into the bed, a thin veneer of sweat combining with the dripping warmth between her legs as Zevlor took his mouth off. Positively beautiful over her, muscular back bent in a perfect curve when he began to suckle and kiss around her neck and collarbone. Travelling downward in a desperate need to cover every inch. Landing with satisfaction on her nipples, laughing for the first time in years, lost in the joy of her.

Zevlor stopped for a moment, lifting his head to face her below him. Tranquil and drunk with sinful pleasure, cheeks filled with rosy blush and eyes glazed over. Arms splayed out like the wings of a celestial Aasimar. He loathed the past, for so many reasons, but mostly because she wasn’t there with him. In her infinite beauty, a plush and wanton solace before him. How did he ever stomach being away from her since they’d met?

“I’m sorry for leaving you after that night. Forgive me?” He asked.

Tav laughed, spellbound to the point of forgetting she was ever upset. As if he’d never left. She said, “You may need to convince me a little more, hellrider.”

Something switched off within him, a zealous need to have her succumb to him. Forgive him for his misgivings. Praying to a new goddess and asking for redemption. Offering himself to her by inching his cock deep inside her, feeling the pull of her soft walls lock him in. Driven to eternal admiration from the sound of her shocked, euphoric moan, submitting to the stretch of him. An addictive sting, exposed to every synapse erupting within her sensitive, yearning cunt. She bit her bottom lip with a smile, shivering at the comforting wrap of his tail around her waist to keep her in place. No escaping the loving, dominant thrust of his hips deep into her.

“Forgive me,” he said, “Forgive me. Forgive me!” A passionate, hard thrust into her pussy each time he said it.

The might of him rendered her eyes at the back of her head, nearly unable to reply as he begged for her forgiveness. Her slick smacking against his pubic bone, gushing onto his cock in a lustful mess of an orgasm begging to come back. Tav snaked her arms across Zevlor’s shoulders for dear life, brought to the edge with his heavy grunts in her ear. She tightened around him, rocking back and forth on the bed, closer and closer to release.

He felt the contracting of her around him, unfulfilled by her silence on forgiveness. Just as she was about to finish, he pulled out of her, smacking the tip of his cock against her clit repeatedly. Listening to her whine and whimper, threatening tears. Then, before she knew it, he thrusted back in, hard and unmerciful. Pulling out again, repeating that pattern.

“Have I earned your forgiveness? Or shall I deny you until you use your words all night? Tell me, am I absolved, goddess?” He growled, voice husky and feral, the militant part of him revealing just enough of itself to command her to his whim.

By the fourth thrust and pull, she wailed, “Yes, gods above, I forgive you! There’s nothing to forgive, just make love to me!”

He pushed inside her fully, smashing his lips against hers at the same time. Holding her hips in line to use his infernal ridges as friction against her swollen clit. Locking his hand into hers, supported above her head while he thrusted and thrusted with reckless abandon. Both of them grunting in tandem, overcome with delayed pleasure. Tav found her footing quickly, edged so deliciously that her orgasm ripped through her with little effort, squeezing onto his cock. Her nails dug into his knuckles, mouth hanging open in awe over the intensity of her second climax.

Pulling from the kiss, he struggled against his own release. Mourning for the eventual time when he’d have to leave her cunt. Comfortable, warm and wet, a shelter from all harm. He couldn’t stand it yet, and used his tail around her waist to flip her onto her side, like fresh sand in the palm of his hand.

“Let me lie next to you,” he said, moving his body in a spoon position, chest pressed against her back, “I want to cum with you in my arms.”

Tav mustered a whisper thin ‘please’ under her breath, running her hands through his hair as he snuggled in behind her. The curve of her spine angled just right for him to sheathe himself inside her once more. Pumping slowly this time, arms and tail curled across her body like ivy against an ancient wall. Kissing the side of her neck, an endless waterfall of tenderness mixed with the possessive thrust of his cock. She was completely enveloped, safe and sound in his embrace, floating in the paradise he gave her.

“You’re with me, now. Right here, safe. Does that feel good? Am I pleasing you, goddess? Might I cum inside you?” He whispered in her ear, low and gruff. Intense bravado oozing from every part.

She was awash with sensual energy, captivated by him just like the first time. Although that was much quieter, fearing someone might hear them. Now, she felt as if they were sharing a home. In the privacy of their own dwelling, even if that was a fantasy.

“Oh, yes, you are perfect. I want your everything, Zevlor. Please, give me everything,” she replied, taking care to run her tongue up and down his bottom lip before she pushed them into a wet, feverish kiss. Flicking her tongue against his teeth, relishing in the sharp edge.

Their mouths were open to each other when he felt the stirrings of his climax. Languishing movements lost rhythm as he climbed ever forward into that much desired sensation. Possessed by the supple flesh of her lips and everything else. Hips, breasts, stomach, ass, everything. Falling into her deep, insane at the ache of his cock inside her. He breathed out a hard, rapturous moan before he let himself spill, soaking her cunt with the cum that twitched out of him. Dribbling out of the side as she lay before him with a wide, calm smile. Their muscles relaxed together, fusing into the bed.

Tav shivered, the slide of his cock pulling out sending a shock in her spine. Imbued with comfort immediately as Zevlor pulled a thin sheet over her. Tucking her into the blankets and the warm hold of him. Snuggling tight into her, yearning to find a way to fuse his body with hers. Kissing the top of her head, lingering to take in her scent.

“You did not smell of rosemary when we last saw each other,” he said, “That’s always been a favourite of mine. Rosemary.”

Tav grinned, turning to face him. A much needed distraction to keep her heavy eyelids from shutting for the night. To see him once more, maybe twice. Absorb all she missed in the year past. His handsome, aged face glowing under firelight. Sandy hair, messy and dotted with sweat. Strong hands stuck tight to her hips. All she imagined came to life.

Zevlor held her hand, kissing each knuckle, down to the bottom of her palm. A touch so ethereal, he could have been giving healing magic. Rescuing her both outside and in, cleansing her soul of all evil and wrongdoing endured before.

“We’ll replenish your lost supplies tomorrow,” he said, her hand close to his face, “If you’ll allow me to accompany you?”

She smiled, containing its ever widening stretch. “Well, we do have a great deal to catch up on.”

[daughter-lilith]

❅In Every Life❅

Halsin x Fem!Reader | Modern AU, Parallel Universes Part 4 | Read Part 3 here

Summary: Another day on modern Earth as you finally wind down for the late night in your quiet home. All is as it should be. All is normal as you prepare for bed. That is, until a tall, hulking man with pointed ears shows up at your doorstep claiming to be your lost love from another time and realm. But he’s a stranger. A stranger who forever changes everything you thought you knew about your life.

Explicit 18+

CW (For whole story): Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Tension, Oral, P in V, Shifting, Pain, Love, Halsin is Emotional!

Word Count: 6k

*Reminder, this is part 4. ⋆ a few tags for some. let me know if anyone would liked to be tagged for the next part. @stanfordscrush | @lanafofana | @catch-all | @thoughts-of-bear | @agathaharknessfan96 | @niki-is-a-reblog | @avabjorna36 | @acrobatalien42 | @princesspeachtacular | (some tags don't work but the thought is there!)

A simmering heat bubbled in your core, hot and powerful. The electric sparks fueled you, firing throughout your body, charging you with an incredible force that waited to be unleashed. You were magic incarnate. The Weave merged and flowed within you. You remember now, the phenomenal power that has been a part of you since childhood.

The echoes of shouting and weapons clashing finally pulled your attention away from yourself. Scanning the area, you gasped as blue and purple nebulae surrounded you, an endless space of brilliant cosmic collections. Floating rocks of various sizes were scattered all around, with the largest rocks nestled in between or on the ancient bones of fallen gods; and the areas with the flattest surfaces were crowded with battle. The Astral Plane.

But what were you doing there? You looked across one way, noticing a large portal where githyanki soldiers occasionally streamed out of, weapons drawn. Above you, red dragons soared ferociously, each flap of their wings like a hurricane. Some had long black streaks painted along their sides, and the others, seemingly on the opposing side, went without a mark. The dragons roared and clawed, battling each other across the Planes.

You noticed a familiar rider on the back of a red dragon with a long black streak, Lae’zel. You remembered what she once told you before battle, that those markings represented the dragons on your side. Even from a great distance, you could see the ferocity in her pose, and the rage in her eyes as she effortlessly directed her dragon in battle. She was always a force to be reckoned with, on the ground or in the air. But if Lae’zel and the red dragons were here, then this was the—

“You will see no ascension!” a mighty voice roared, piercing across the Plane. It sounded ancient and powerful, dripping with hatred. Vlaakith. The glowing, yellow eyes of the Lich Queen glared at Lae’zel, who was flying side to side, dodging various attacks of lightning and thunder.

Your heart heaved, stomach tightening as full awareness was flooding back into you. It was the battle where you, Halsin, and your friends agreed to help Lae’zel with. All but Jaheira had joined you, as she settled into the life of being a grandmother, finally putting up her daggers. But she sent a large band of Harpers in her place, her daughter among them.

You had years of peace after the defeat of the Absolute, but the tyrant queen still lived. It was the one thing that Lae’zel could never truly move past, especially since she was forced to occasionally defend herself over the years, being hunted down by those who still blindly followed Vlaakith. Lae’zel never gave up on her rebellion, itching to help her people once and for all, but she needed the aid of her closest friends. Vlaakith was a threat to the githyanki, and if her reign continued, it wouldn’t be long before all non-gith fell under her control.

A familiar voice reached your ears, frantically calling your name. “My heart! Rise!” You promptly turned towards the call to find Halsin, his bright eyes concerned with how you lingered on the ground, seemingly out of it. He started to move towards you but was cut off by three gith monks who jumped in front of his path.

A flash of golden light raced over his tall body, and the roar of a great bear emerged, large claws swiping at one of the monks. A blaring war cry filled your ears, and you noticed Karlach, who was dripping with fire as she charged towards Halsin’s aid, axe raised high.

Heart pounding, adrenaline surged through your veins as you finally began to rise, suddenly feeling the weight of something heavy at your back. There was a sound of something scraping against the stone as you stood, and you remembered the longsword strapped at your back, eager to be used once more.

“Ooh, glad to see you remembered how to use your legs!” someone near you said, the sarcastic speech you could recognize anywhere. You turned to see silver-white hair and blaring red eyes, stimulated by the heat of battle. Astarion, daggers raised, whirled around four of his attackers with immaculate finesse. “Now, darling, a little help would be lovely!”

You grinned, feeling the crackling energy in your fingertips growing stronger. You ordered him to dash far off to the side as you raised your hands high. Feeling the electricity surging down your arms, you eyed four of your targets who were prowling toward Astarion. Before they could get within dangerous range of him, you threw your arms forward as a rush of invigorating power escaped you with great force. “Perurē!” Streaks of crackling blue lightning sprouted from your fingers, instantly shocking all four giths on contact. All four immediately succumbed, weakened from earlier assaults.

Astarion sighed, dusting off his pants then bowed dramatically in your direction. “Well that’s more like it.”

You smiled, scanning the area to better assimilate to what else was going on and how everyone was doing. You remembered this moment, feeling it like the way you would déjà vu, except it wasn’t some quick fleeting memory. You were simply there. The battle in the Astral Plane was happening all over again.

You felt something behind you, a presence leaping towards you fast. Quickly, you withdrew your longsword, noting the orange flames that danced along the blade. Spinning, you swung the blade in time to lacerate clean through a large gnoll, its eyes glowing deep pink. Charmed, you realized. But now, its gaze darkened, lifeless, as it slumped to the ground, its severed body partially sizzling from the sword’s flames.

Satisfied, your eyes continued to sweep the area, taking in how the rest of your friends were faring. All around you, hordes of allies and enemies clashed. Lae’zel still soared above you, occasionally taking on Vlaakith herself with a few githyanki at her side, but she was consistently forced to evade more than she could attack. For now, though, she held strong while the rest of your allies held on the ground—or the suspended rocks at least.

Your heart pounded in your ears as you searched for your druid, wanting to fight at his side. Karlach was still raging, a hellish force to be reckoned with. And instead of finding the enormous bear beside her, you saw a massive, feline beast biting down on the neck of an enemy gith, two extremely long incisors pulling away from a bloody throat. You could easily recognize the gold in its eyes as your lover, who had apparently shed his bear form for a swifter, fiercer, saber-tooth tiger. Halsin dashed across the rocks, leaping with pristine grace, his jugular strikes always true.

A swell of love and pride spread across your chest as you watched him, roaring and merciless. It had been a very long time since the two of you fought like this, having only faced minor dangers since defeating the netherbrain. The usually stoic, calm elf, who had grown accustomed to long, peaceful days, had not lost his vigor. Blood pumped faster through your veins at the sight, and a pleasurable spark flickered in your lower abdomen. Should you survive this and the two of you reclaimed your solitude, you’d leap for him, wrapping your legs around his waist and lose yourself enveloped in his massive arms, not caring to wash away the blood of battle first.

Halsin seemed to sense your eyes on him because mid-run, he stopped, turning his head in your direction. His chest was moving rapidly as crimson stained his once white, dagger-like canines. He stared at you intensely, golden eyes piercing into yours from across the plane. His long tongue swiped slowly over one of his blood-soaked canines and you gasped at the sight, certain he was detecting your thoughts.

“Halsin,” you murmured, breathless. As though he could hear you or read your lips, he let out a soft guttural purr, starting to march towards you.

But a sudden bright light pulled you out of your arousing trance, and you turned towards the source as another spherical portal emerged some distance away. Dozens of gith started pouring in, and given the color of their armor, they were no friends of yours. They were running in the direction of Gale and allied gith fighters who seemed too preoccupied to notice.

“Gale!” you shouted, repressing all former desires and refocusing on the battle at hand. The wizard immediately looked at you, eyes determined. “Behind you, cut them off, now!”

Gale swiveled around at the charging gith soldiers who were running up the inner rock that was more of a wide tunnel with a ceiling. Bright flames illuminated Gale’s arms, and in a quick sweeping motion towards the giths’ direction, he threw his arms up. “Ira!” he bellowed. Instantly, a column of flames sprouted from the ground, spiking towards the ceiling, immediately torching the few unlucky gith who were caught in the middle of the spell’s path.

The fires effectively cut the rest off, leaving Gale to deal with the other side. Sensing he would soon be overwhelmed, you sprang off the rock, soaring high in the low gravity, and landed with a divine smite to the first enemy who was unfortunate to be in your way. You easily fell into a natural dance, shifting between slicing and cutting to throwing fire bolts and thunderwaving enemies away from you whenever you began getting overwhelmed.

“Ira et Dolor!” You heard the incantation through the chaos, catching a luminous green light off to your left. Shadowheart, mace swinging, ran through the field as a floating circle of green, necrotic guardians flew around her as she weakened and injured all foes who breached her circle.

With her at your side, it helped lessen the number of foes, and you did your best to help her from getting knocked out of her concentration. You then turned your attention to the sound of a familiar, joyous laugh. Wyll, rapier held high, wielded the weapon with clean precision, fluid like Astarion, but unique to him.

The former Blade of Avernus, now Duke of Baldur’s Gate, still fought like he hadn’t missed a day over the past twenty years. His hair was longer, twisted halfway down his back, swaying with him as he dodged and weaved. But despite his unwavering skill, he was sidetracked by a thundering blast from his side, throwing him on his back. Wyll shook his head, clearly dazed.

An enemy warrior approached Wyll from behind, and your heart skipped as you called on your energy, aiming to teleport in the form of mist. But before you could, another shout from Shadowheart. “Ex Textura!” A large, spiritual greatsword rose from the rock, behind the impending warrior who stalked towards Wyll. With a great, sweeping arc, its radiant power struck hard at the gith warrior, forcing them to their knees.

You looked back at Shadowheart, sweat spilling down her forehead, who simply grinned at you before turning her attention elsewhere. Back to Wyll, you proceeded to teleport near his side. With flaming hands, you thrust hard against the fallen warrior’s chest. Wyll, back on his feet, took hold of his rapier and slashed it cleanly across the gith’s throat.

“Appreciate the assist,” Wyll breathed heavily, his smile never waning. Spots of blood dotted his face and long coat, and he gave his rapier a brief shake. His beard was fuller now, with a few sporadic strands of silver peeking between his dark hair.

“Of course.” You bowed, playfully. “But we had a little help.” You nodded towards Shadowheart, still surrounded by the ring of guardians. You lived for moments like these during battle, where you found a chance to quickly banter with one another before falling back into the dance.

And dance you did.

Bellowed spells, arrows flying, and swords clashing echoed in the great Astral Plane. The would-be god was not falling easily for she was as impressive as Lae’zel warned you all she would be. Lae’zel was once a devout follower after all, and knew only of the strength and power the tyrant queen possessed. But Vlaakith would fall today, she had to.

Exhaustion began to mount within you, your muscles burning with the consistent grip you had on your sword. The heat from the red dragons occasionally clouded you, their fires nothing to be trifled with.

Finally finding Halsin again, this time he had fully dismissed his wild shape, the tall elf swinging his shadow blade in a long arc. Halsin’s hands glowed with a bright light, and he threw his hands forward then did a slamming motion. A beam of pure moonlight struck down from an unknown place, seemingly ignoring the fact that they were not beneath the moon or stars but rather floating in an otherworldly place among them. It seemed Selune’s light could still reach this plane.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, though he was too focused to notice. Your legs carried you on, tired but moving. The world spun around you as you fought, sometimes finding yourself at Halsin’s side before being separated once more. You’d briefly lock eyes, making sure the other was okay before pursuing the dance.

You were breathing heavily, giving it all you had, everyone was. Your energy was beginning to wane, only allowing you to cast the most basic spells. You tapped into your core, feeling the warmth within you, the ancient magic passed down through your ancestors, it would not fail you.

“You alright there, soldier?” Karlach appeared on your left flank that was left wide open.

Before you could answer, another presence on your other side joined you. From the corner of your eye, you noticed large, bulging muscles, thinking it was your druid. But a different accent left their lips.

“Ahh, you wouldn’t let this party go to waste, no?” Minsc moved closer, bumping your side lightly with his arm. “Move your legs, my friend! The battle rages! The false god meets her end today! Isn’t that right, Boo?” A series of light squeaks followed his inquiry.

You chuckled, taking a deep breath, a new resolve rising within you. With your towering friends at your side, you shouted battle cries and charged back into the fray. In time, finally, the battle was turning in your favor by drastic numbers. You had brought the would-be god to her knees as you, Gale, and Shadowheart stood the closest to her but still a decent distance away. On the other rocks, the rest of your friends and allies were clearing out the other gith, the ones who refused to flee. The rest of you watched Lae’zel land with her dragon, an earth-shattering thud. You all observed her eagerly, waiting for her to end this.

Lae’zel’s dragon, whose saliva dripped with red fire, stalked towards Vlaakith who lay wounded and considerably damaged. “We will be your thralls no longer!” Lae’zel snarled, her eyes frenzied with rage.

She shouted a command at her dragon who made a thrusting motion with its back. With the rapid momentum, Lae’zel leaped off its back. Silver sword in hand, she vaulted through the air with feline grace, a streak of ferocious fury, and brought down the glimmering blade directly through Vlaakith’s chest. A piercing cry left the Lich Queen’s throat as dark blood, almost black, splattered from her lips, proof that she was still just a mortal in the end. A string of cursed words left the fading tyrant’s mouth which only encouraged Lae’zel to twist the blade. Another moment, and Lae’zel withdrew, stepping away from the fallen queen who collapsed forward with a hard fall.

Lae’zel stumbled back, breathing heavily, her yellow eyes wide with shock that this was all over. It was finally over. She turned around on semi-shaking legs, catching your eyes first. The grip on her sword started to waver as realization swam over her. You nodded your head, half-smiling as your chest rose and fell rapidly.

Then, a shadow of movement behind your gith friend caught your eye. The long, skeletal arm of the fallen queen lifted, and a silver blade materialized in her hand. Eyes widening, you acted without thinking, using the last bit of your energy to misty step at Lae’zel’s side, shoving her out of the way. In the same second, a sharp, stabbing pain blasted through your core, your entire body seizing under the shock. A choked gasp left your throat as the desperate sound of your name cut across the plane.

Instinctively, you looked in the direction of Halsin, who was sprinting towards you with a desperate, terrified look in his eyes before he shifted midway towards you in his considerably faster saber-tooth shape.

A string of curses dripped from Lae’zel’s throat, venomous. “Aghh! Vlaakith hta'zith! Die!”

You were faintly aware of a violent slashing sound, then a crowned head tumbling away from shoulders. Your legs felt numb, knees weak. And just as you were collapsing, a bright flash momentarily blinded your vision.

The light subsided. You blinked rapidly, looking around to still find yourself standing in the Astral Plane, but something was different. You felt different—lighter, no longer reeling from the scathing pain, in fact, there was no pain at all. You heard a sound, something of a strained cough, and glanced down to find yourself on the ground, your other self. Ejected from your body, you stood in shock, watching the other you from the outside, like a spirit watching itself.

You looked down at yourself, cradled in the strong arms of your lover, a blue light flowing from his hands. Halsin was on his knees, begging you to hold on, pouring all of his magic into you. Your friends ran to you both, frantic, everyone who could heal desperately trying to transfer what magic they had left into your declining body. Still standing, you tried to speak, but in this disconnected form, you were deemed silent, an invisible witness.

Your physical form looked up at Halsin, and you felt your heart breaking despite no longer being attached to it. “Stay with me, my heart,” Halsin pleaded, voice thick and tight with fear. “Please.”

You watched yourself weakly raising a hand to cup Halsin’s cheek as blood and sweat tinged his face. As you spoke, a line of blood trickled from your lips. “In every life,” you murmured, smiling sadly at your greatest love. “I’ll find you.”

Halsin covered your hand with his own, shaking his head, refusing to accept this. “Oak Father help me, please.” His voice trembled as he felt the life in your body waning. “A portal!” he shouted at no one in particular. “Open one, anyone!”

But the Astral Plane was too fast, already claiming you barely a minute later. You felt yourself slipping away as you watched your body fade into golden, sparkling dust, flying out into the vast spaces before vanishing entirely. Halsin fell over, no longer having you to hold and a pained wail escaped his throat.

It was then, in your ethereal form, that you took the chance to look around at the fallen. But there were no fallen. Every person, enemy or ally, had ceased to exist, only their weapons were left behind. Your breathing was coming in rapid waves, panic momentarily blurring your vision. You glanced back down at Halsin who was staring at his empty, blood-soaked, trembling hands. The very same hands that held you only mere moments ago.

“Halsin?” Shadowheart cautiously spoke, her face crestfallen.

Halsin suddenly threw his head back, arms flexed, and the loudest, fiercest cry bellowed from the depths of his broad chest. It cut through the Planes, a beacon of the deepest agony and ire, powerful enough to put Karlach’s rageful, barbaric roar to shame. Your heart shattered at the most sorrowful sound you’d ever heard, and you ached to reach for him, to touch him.

“My Halsin,” you cried, dropping to your knees beside him as he fell forward again. “I’m here. I’m right here.” You moved to throw your arms around his neck but your ghostly form passed right through him. You glanced at your hands, defeated, watching a misty blue aura outlining your arms.

“Oh, Halsin.” Karlach dropped to her knees, throwing herself around the weeping elf. Blue flames flickered over her skin as she sobbed profusely, resting her head on Halsin’s shoulder.

Wyll followed suit, coming on Halsin’s other side and stretching his arms around him as wide as they could go. Shadowheart snuck beside Wyll, crying quietly as she leaned her weight over the two, resting her hand on Halsin’s back. Gale stood nearby, eyes glazed over in shock, his staff carelessly dropped near his feet. Astarion, who usually detested expressing any sort of vulnerable emotion was redder in the eyes than normal, tears staining his cheeks as he paced back and forth, fangs bared, erratically waving his hands.

Minsc held Boo close to his chest, kneeling near Halsin with their heads bowed. And Lae’zel was muttering a string of curses, frantic, angry, shouting your name over and over again. You watched her glistening eyes, spewing threat after threat at the fallen Vlaakith, cursing her to a terrifying and tortuous afterlife.

But as Halsin continued to weep, his fists balled tightly, Lae’zel’s ranting finally seized and she collapsed directly in front of the defeated druid. Blood smeared her arms and chest as she tentatively reached for Halsin, placing a trembling hand over his knee.

Lowering her head, she choked back tears, fighting the threatening dam. “It should have been me… Vlaakith—” she choked, pausing for a moment. “That was my death. Mine.”

You shook your head at her even though she could not see. You would do it again for her, for anyone in front of you. And there wasn’t a single doubt that they wouldn’t have done the same in return.

Without lifting his head, the druid responded. “Do not say that.” Halsin sounded distant, sniffling as he spoke.

Lae’zel said nothing after this, only allowing herself to cry freely, bowing before Halsin. Everyone remained quiet, save for the sounds of constant sniffing and the heavy, unstable breaths Halsin made. Gale and Astarion now huddled as close as they were able to get to the large elf. Your heart both broke and swelled at the sight. You hated that you had to leave them behind, to leave your beautiful, amazing, love of your life behind. But you also smiled sadly, feeling a sense of peace knowing that at least he wasn’t alone. He still had his family.

With one final attempt to touch Halsin, a sudden torrent of wind opened up from behind you. And in an instant, taking one last glance at your family, you were sucked into another strange portal. This one was void of visions and considerably faster than before. Blue lights rushed past you, quickly dimming and fading into darkness.

Then one violent, gasping breath later, cool air rushed back into your body like you had just reached the limit your lungs could no longer take. You fell forward slightly, blinking rapidly as your vision cleared. Gone was the rocky surface and starry surroundings of the Astral Plane, replaced by cool, ceramic flooring. You noticed a familiar cloak covering your arms - no- not a cloak, but a robe. You were kneeling on your kitchen floor, suddenly aware that you were being partially held up. Your stomach flipped, a fierce and untamed nervous excitement. If you were back in your kitchen, in your body, then that meant— “My heart, are you alright? What happened?” a familiar, deep voice graced your ears.

You leaned back, lifting your gaze to find Halsin searching yours, worried and panicked as he studied you. A blue light faded from his hands as he observed your appearance.

A shaky gasp left your lips as you took in the form of the druid, the softness in his eyes, the love that flourished deep within them. He looked almost the exact same as he did in your vision—memory— but gone was the blood and sweat, replaced by a more tired, stress-induced elf.

He said your name again, lifting one hand as if to cup your chin but stopped midway, cautious, as though still unsure of what contact was too much. So you made the choice for him, reaching for his face, taking him in. He seemed surprised for a moment but didn’t hesitate to lean into your touch, though a level of concern still lingered in his eyes.

“My Halsin,” you whispered fondly, holding his gaze, watching the ever-increasing surprise in his eyes. “You came for me.”

Halsin was breathing fast, and you could feel him starting to tremble. “You- you remember me?” he breathed, taken aback.

You nodded slowly. “Everything.” And as you said the word, all of your memories pulsed in your mind, like a reminder that you weren’t dreaming, it all happened. “I saw everything. My life in Faerûn…our life.”

A distant, ghost of a tickle entered your brain. It was like your life in Faerûn was just as much a part of you as your current life on Earth. Memories were shared equally. Your time as a high elf for over two hundred years mingled with your time as a human for a considerably lower number of years. All of your friends’ faces were clear as day, the many races of Faerûn, as well as your Earthly friends, just as much a part of your life. How strange, you thought. Your two lives merging rather than fighting for dominance. But you didn’t question it further, for now, choosing to focus on the elf before you. The one who never stopped caring for you. The one who crossed dimensions to find you.

Halsin, who was clearly at a loss for words, slumped forward, head hanging low. You saw him trembling and could feel the parts of relief and shock consuming him. Your heart beating rapidly, you smiled and slowly rose to your feet. Halsin stayed still, staring towards the floor, lightly clinging to one of your legs which loosened your robe some more.

With a featherlight touch, you reached down and slid your fingers beneath his chin, gently urging him to look at you. Lifting his head, his eyes glistened lightly as he looked up at you, a soft frown curving his lips.

“Oh…my sweet bear,” you whispered, stroking your thumb over his chin.

Your heart skipped one beat, then another at the sight below you. This massive, beautiful man completely and utterly shattered for you. You felt heavy with empathy at the genuine relief in his eyes that slowly pushed through years of anguish. Halsin was staring at you with pure reverence, devotion, love. He looked into you the way one would a goddess, thankful for your delicate care and attention, silently begging that you’d allow him to be consumed in it forever.

Halsin’s strong arms fell to his sides, suddenly feeling weak as he looked up at you, unable to believe this was happening. It was what he had hoped for. What he had dreamed, prayed, and longed for. He didn’t know exactly what to expect when showing up at your doorstep, but just a few minutes ago he had succumbed to the idea that he would have to leave. He would leave to make things easier for you because the truth overwhelmed you, frightened you. And more notably, you hadn’t remembered him. As much as that truth stung, your mental well-being meant more to him.

But kneeling before you now, he saw it in your eyes. The same eyes that he had lost himself in thousands of times before. You were right there. You remembered him. And as if reading his thoughts, you spoke again.

“I remember all, Halsin,” you reaffirmed, your sweet voice caressing his ears. “Now, come here to me.” You loved this view of Halsin kneeling before you, the assembly of emotions in his gorgeous eyes. But you were ready for more of him, you needed more.

You smirked down at him as a wave of urgent excitement swelled within you. Halsin chuckled, briefly, taking one last look before he rapidly rose to full height in one quick motion. You almost stumbled at the force of his large frame now towering over you again, but his arm was quick to curve around your waist, keeping you steady.

Your eyes darted between his and then at his parted lips. With silent confirmation, you both surged towards each other, closing the space between you as your lips met in a deep and tentative kiss. Together, your lips moved gradually over one another, each peck and pull rising with purpose. A groan rumbled from his throat, the familiar sound causing a rush of heat to your core. You kissed like you were reacquainting yourselves with one another, exploring the taste of the other’s lips.

For you, it felt like it had only been a few hours and simultaneously years since you last kissed Halsin. Another strange way your memories of your old life collided with this one. You could only imagine how Halsin felt, for it had literally been just over a decade for him. The mere thought made you want to lean into him more, to mold yourself into him, reassuring him that you were back, that you were there.

Halsin’s grip on you increased as he tugged you in closer until he felt the poking of your hardening nipples against him. A hot, electric charge spiked up his back as he kissed you feverishly, taking in the softness of your lips again. He groaned again, feeling you smile against his lips as you started to kiss him even harder. He returned the vigor, kissing you deeper, faster, encouraged by your exploring hands traveling up his rigid biceps and reaching around his neck before threading through his hair. A soft moan drained from your lips and Halsin felt himself twitch, abdomen tightening, nearly forgetting how incredible such a sound was from you. He longed to hear more of it, to be the one who encouraged it, loud and angelic from your supple mouth.

Halsin’s breath was hot against yours, his warm, woodsy scent consuming you. Chills spread all over your body, quickly soothed by the heat from his large physique. His large hands roamed over your thighs and up your back, leaving a tremor of shivers in their wake. The intensity of his kiss was growing ever more ravenous, burning with the heat of a thousand fires. Your needy hands found their way tugging at Halsin’s forearms, and following your signal, he quickly unstrapped and discarded his arm gloves without ever breaking the kiss.

Your nails ran down his fully exposed arms, gripping around hard muscles, feeling his skin prickle beneath your touch. Halsin groaned again, further stoking the fires within your pelvis. You slid your hands along his firm abdomen, sliding them upward towards his chest, wishing there was no fabric blocking you from his heated skin.

Your faces constantly tilted from one side to the other, consumed by each other’s mouths, wanting to taste one another as much as possible. Halsin’s tongue dragged along your bottom lip and your lips parted wider, eagerly inviting his tongue inside. You gasped as strong hands lifted you and the world quickly spun until your bottom was placed securely on the countertop. Halsin’s knee spread your legs wider as he settled in between, his lips still roughly on yours.

In this position, you easily felt a stiff bulge pressing against your stomach, causing your core to flush with heat. Your pulse quickened, suddenly remembering just how large Halsin was, thick and growing fuller by the moment. Desperately, you tugged him closer to you, pressing your still-covered breasts into his chest while one leg wrapped around his waist.

Unexpectedly, a light taste of salt touched your tongue as it continued to dance with Halsin’s. Soon after, a warm drop of fluid fell on your bottom lip, trailing down to your chin. A sudden break in the kiss had you both gasping for air, your lungs finally free to take in all the oxygen they needed.

Halsin’s forehead leaned against yours, your warm breaths mingling together. You opened your eyes and found him already staring at you, eyes shimmering under the dim light. A flicker of gold flashed in his irises before darkening again. Slight worry gripped you as you leaned back to see him better, but he kept his head bowed. Thin streaks of fresh tears trailed down Halsin’s cheeks as he proceeded to catch his breath.

Halsin smiled shyly, glancing away for a moment. “It would appear I am feeling…” he took a deep breath, shivering, “…a bit overwhelmed.”

Halsin’s heart was hammering in his chest, his blood so hot he could practically feel it simmering in his veins. His whole body felt like it was on fire in the most pleasurable way possible. To be standing there before you, the greatest love he’s ever known, who not only remembered him but still felt just as passionate as he was. Years of love and grief came crashing into him in full force, barreling into the years of loneliness he spent without you.

And then, to feel your touch again, to taste your lips, it was all so much and still not enough. His emotions needed to be free, to escape his body and help ease the unbearable flames. So he cried as he kissed you, feeling his cheeks burn as each tear was marked with the love he had for you. A love that never waned, that could never be replaced by another.

He watched you analyzing his face, imagining how sorrowful he must have looked. But you simply smiled at him, lifting both of your cool hands to his cheeks. “My Halsin,” he heard you whisper, and a tingle pulsed down his back. He had to remove his hands from your hips, placing them on the counter to steady himself. Oh how he loved it when you said his name that way, your Halsin. Another reassurance that you had truly returned to him, still claimed him.

Halsin stayed still, his arms resting at your sides while he let you take your time exploring his face. Your soft hands held his cheeks as you leaned upward, placing gentle kisses at the corners of his eyes. He shivered at your touch as his fresh tears were captured on your warm lips. The tenderness of your thumb stroked his cheek as you tilted your head to finally kiss his mouth again. Halsin leaned into you with ease, tasting his own tears, sighing against your lips. This time, however, the kiss was softer, slower, your deep breaths still coming down.

You pulled away from Halsin with a quiet smack of your lips, placing a hand over his pacing heart. It beat rapidly within his broad chest, strong and powerful. You could feel the passion he had for you, the equal level of anxiousness and enthusiasm to be with you again.

“My sweet Halsin,” you whispered, and Halsin focused on you, ready to hang onto your every word. “How about we take our time? We have the rest of the night, and the sun rises late in the winter.”

Halsin chuckled softly, nodding at your suggestion. He was torn between wanting to crash back into you again, to pull you into his body in another tight and greedy embrace. It had been so long since he last felt you, since he last had you, that he scarcely knew what to do with himself.

But perhaps you were right, perhaps it would be wiser to pace yourselves, though the desire relentlessly burned inside of him for more. His breathing began to level, and his eyes ceased new tears. He would take it slow with you… for as long as he was able to at least.

A/N: Whew, I honestly can't handle sad/emotional Halsin, I'm so sorry!

Next post is the final😔. But even longer than this part! Can't wait to share as soon as it's ready!

[sharkboywrites]

Hi, can you do Halsin and Astarion comfort (plus any others you like writing for) x trans reader struggling with top dysphoria, like to the point they actively avoid face to face contact because no matter how well they bind they can still feel them :( I've been struggling a lot (expecially since I can't bind due to health reasons)

Top Dysphoria

Halsin and Astarion x dysphoric transmasc reader

A/N: Really excited to write this bc I know how much chest dysphoria sucks, but I’m actually working on getting a binder now that I’m 18, so this is good motivation to write. Sorry I’m getting to this late, but I hope you feel better anon

Trans male/transmasc reader, dysphoria, chest dysphoria, all descriptions of dysphoria are based off of author’s experience

Halsin

- Halsin is one of those people that can immediately tell when something is wrong

- He could see the difference in the way you started to carry yourself, all confidence gone and making yourself as small as possible

- Your chatter died down, now often becoming completely silent unless you had to speak

- When you’d see up camp for the night you’d quickly retreat to your tent, not fixing up your weapons or talking to anyone else in your party

- He decided to wait until everyone headed to bed to check on you

- When he came into your tent you were just laying there

- You weren’t sleeping, but you weren’t exactly doing anything either

- You were just staring at the wall of your tent, face stained from tears

- He didn’t say anything at first, just sat beside you

- He eventually pulled you into his arms, holding you in a warm and comforting embrace, a bear hug perhaps

- When you felt comfortable enough to start talking, you told him everything

- You told him how you felt, how it was making every single day hard, how it was affecting your mental health

- He listened to you patiently, wiping away any tears that formed

- He assured you that your body does not define you, that it doesn’t change the way he sees you, but that he also understands why it makes you so upset

- He held you until you fell asleep, before laying with you, patting your hair as he drifted to sleep too

Astarion

- Astarion loves to bicker, that’s one obvious thing

- He throws small insults and comments whenever he can find the opportunity

- And you always bickered back

- It was like a game between the two of you, an entertainment of sorts while you had to walk from place to place, fighting monster after monster

- But suddenly, you stopped bickering back

- You were quiet, keeping to yourself

- You almost seemed smaller somehow, like trying to hide yourself from everyone around you

- He’d never admit it, but he missed your friendly fighting

- So, he decided to check up on you

- In his own way of course

- He’s not good at emotions, but he still addresses the problem directly

- He does it in a whiny way of course, while you’re party stopped at an inn for the night

- He companies about losing his fighting buddy, how quiet you’ve become, but beneath all that it’s clear he’s really just worried about you

- But he feels even worse when he sees you start to tear up

- He sits next to you on the bed as you cry out your feelings, telling him about everything

- His comfort comes in the form of a hand on your shoulder and a nod every now and then

- Like we’ve established, he’s not good with emotions, but he’s still there to listen to you

- He doesn’t have a lot to say, but he gives you a few assuring words about how he doesn’t care about those things and your body doesn’t determine who you are

- He stays with you the whole night, helping you stay distracted, and reminding you that he’s here for you

[reverieblondie]

Loved your sub!rolan hcs! Perhaps, if it’s not too much trouble, the same with Zevlor but with make reader? (Gn is fine, too.) Have a good day!

A/N: You ask for Sub!Zevlor I will do my best to provide. Sorry this took so long!

Sub!Zevlor HCs

Zevlor, no matter what, it is all about your pleasure. Zevlor feels good if you feel good. A service sub, if I had to give it a name. Zevlor is happy if his partner is happy…

You want a back rub? Zevlor's hands are slicked with oil, rubbing all the knots out of your body, as soft or as hard as you request. His skin is warm to the touch, and the feeling of his long nails slightly dragging over your skin never fails to make your toes curl. 

Do you need to dry the laundry? Zevlor is already carrying the basket of wet laundry out to the line for you; he's following your exact words as you direct him. When you tell him what to do and how to do it, you will see Zevlor looking into your eyes with the smallest of smiles and his cheeks just a bit redder. 

Feeling needy? All you need to do is go to Zevlor, sit on his lap, or run your hands down his broad chest. "Help me..' is all you need to whisper, and Zevlor is on it. He's quick to lift you to the bedroom, practically kicking the door down so he can lay you on the bed. Zevlor will whisper praise in your ear that switches from common to infernal as he strips you bare. Then, finally, when your sex is exposed to him, all you need to do is tell him… Gods how he lives for you to tell him what you want… let him run his tongue over your sex, toy lick, and suck against you as his fingers probe at your tight entrance. 

It isn't about Zevlors pleasure… that comes when you cum into his expecting mouth.

After a long day of work, Zevlor's body is coated in a sheen of sweat and aches with every move. You see how his face twists in pain as he tries to settle; you want to take care of him, asking him if he needs anything, wants anything, but all he says is you, and suddenly you are wrapped in his arms. As you settle in with Zevlor, leaning into his chest, you feel his hands slowly rubbing your body and relaxing as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. "Zev, you don't have to take care of me. You have had a long day, so you can relax." Zevlor hums into you as he works the knots out of your back, what you should be doing for him. "Please… let me take care of you… having you feel good makes me feel good." Well, with soft words like that, who are you to deny a man his pleasures?

Zevlors pleasure, of course, leads to you lying back and splayed out as Zevlor loses himself as he runs his tongue against your sex. He's been down there for what feels like hours, his mouth pulling orgasm after orgasm from you. Zevlor's voice praises and begs you for more; let him please you more. Of course, you let him, the pleasure you're giving him is undeniable and mouth-watering. Through you worry about Zevlor, is he enjoying this as much as you… But when you finally feel his groan against you… there is no doubt he is enjoying himself immensely…Then the problem becomes trying to get the ex-hell rider off. You can whine and beg until you shake from the sweet overstimulation. That feeling starts to give way to an intense pressure that aches in your lower stomach… you're warning him, begging him… but he's just too lost in you… then, it washes over you in a sighing relief… and poor Zev's face is ruined with your mess, and with hazy eyes and a soft smile, he sucks and licks it up. 

Zevlor has an oral fixation to the max, and when your cumming or… erm, engaging in water sports… Zevlor is at his happiest. It isn't a degrading thing, he just really fucking loves the taste of you. 

Once everything is out in the open and you two have talked and explored each other's kinks more, it is revealed that not only does he want to please you, but he also wants you to direct him… to command him.

You two will start slowly if you are not used to giving directions. Like asking him to help rub your shoulders, have him help strip you bare; if you are nervous about being this direct, don't worry; Zevlor is right there. Just put your hands in his as he whispers how he loves you, and if you want to stop, you can anytime you want. He's literally perfect.

After some time and practice, your confidence is built enough to ask him more direct things… like moaning your name, having him tell you what he wants to do for you, asking for it faster or slower, and telling him where you want him to cum. If you ask him to bite you or if you can bite him, he might be lost for words... 

Zevlor stands in front of you tall, his hands behind his back, and his posture is perfect. "Stip," you command as you sit in front of him. Zevlor slowly sheds off his shirt, then drops his trousers with a smile. Once bare to you, revealing his muscular body with the most beautiful scars that, on many nights, you have taken the time to sit and map out to completely make him yours. You stand and circle him, tracing your fingers over him; Zevlor tries hard not to move as you take your time teasing him, though he can't control how his cock swells to attention, hard and glistening at the tip, eager to feel more of whatever you are willing to give. Finally, you grab his neck and lean into his burning ears. "Turn around for me, then on your elbows…" 

Zevlor is so obedient to you, never trembling under your words, just doing. Tender touches along his spine will make his breath catch; its a touch he has long dreamed of, and now you, his love, his person who will take him tenderly in your hands. It's not just sex now, not with you in this moment. It's a complete surrender to another and to be about ro share in physical and emotional intimacy. 

Let him wrap his tail around you as you kiss the nape of his neck down his back, as you gently stretch his tight entrance with probing fingers, then later…something else… His muscles constricting taut at the stretching intuition… then if you curl your fingers, you've never heard anyone moan so pretty.

When you thrust into Zevlor, he will moan and growl, and if his needy, pleasing side starts to get the better of him, he will start meeting your thrusting with his hips slamming back into you just so you know how much he needs this with you. 

You won't need to praise Zevlor; in fact, that might overwhelm him with a blazing flush. Just kiss him tenderly and whisper how much you love him; bonus points if you growl it in infernal. He will surely make a mess, then. 

Though this isn't Zevlors favorite position…

Zevlors favorite position is you riding him (obviously). Zevlor loves to feel your weight pressing down on him as he watches your face contort into a concentrated furrow as you bounce yourself on his cock. Your hands gripping his hair like rains and he's speechless, he feels nothing but total reverence as his partner uses him for their pleasure, to be giving him pleasure as they grip on him tighter and tighter with every thrust. You may be receiving, but Zevlor is in the plan of your hand in complete bliss…

You lean into his ear, your breath hot and heavy, "Knot me, commander… I know you want to…" His knees feel weak, and the base starts to swell….he will never deny you…

[ami-atmosphere]

See What I See 🪞

[Read on AO3] [Full Illustration, R18] Pairing: Gale x Amihan (Tav) / WindWeave

Summary: Amihan is worried about her apparent lack of expression. Gale proves otherwise in front of a magic mirror.

Warnings: Mirror Sex, Vaginal Sex, Smut, Post-Canon

Word Count: 1.2k

“Gale,” Amihan whimpered. “Is…is this truly necessary?”

The couple stood bare in front of a magnificently-sized mirror, not one of their already existing mirrors, but one that Gale conjured himself with his magic– a demonstration, he insisted. Amihan had previously spoken of her dismay regarding her own inexpressiveness– how she knows she can appear distant and unconcerned, how it makes her feel unattractive compared to the blooming ladies of Waterdeep. Naturally, Gale disagreed with this notion and decided he must go about and prove that she already was beautiful and expressive.

“Of course, my breeze,” Gale replied. “Otherwise, I fear you would refuse to believe me, stubborn as you are.” He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“No, I want you to see what I see,” He whispered against her neck, voice dripping with desire.

A shiver ran through Amihan’s spine, and he smirked, feeling her tremble within his embrace. Gale knew she loved his voice, particularly when he’d take a more commanding tone. She loved giving him control, loved learning about what he likes, and that in turn was intoxicating for him. Amihan turned her face towards him, her lips parting and her eyes looking at him with that touch of innocence and pleading he loved so much.

“Show me,” she managed, voice wavering but still full of resolve.

“With pleasure.”

Immediately, his lips found hers in a heated kiss, his tongue gently coaxing her lips to open and allowing her very own to swirl with his.

“Mmph…” Amihan moaned in their kiss, her legs losing balance as he put more fervour in his movements. He was devouring her, and if not for their mortal lungs, he was convinced he would never part his lips with hers. Alas, Gale did eventually break away from the kiss, allowing the two of them to breathe, a thin string of saliva connecting them for a few more seconds. He marvelled at her reddened lips, her lustful gaze. Oh, how he loved seeing her like this.

“Simply exquisite,” he grinned. “Now, my breeze– If you would, please.”

His hand beckoned her eyes to face the mirror, and Amihan watched herself with heavy eyes. She never saw herself this way, never seen herself looking so positively sinful.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered against her ear.

“I don’t–” she tried to protest but was quickly interrupted by Gale’s wandering hands. One settled on her breast, while the other slowly moved lower towards her core.

“So sensitive…” he continued.

“Gale…” Amihan mewled, her head resting on his shoulder as both of his hands began to move simultaneously. He had always been a master of concentration and of the somatic component, and he capitalised on this skill just as much as his practised tongue on his darling wife. His hand below slid between her folds, feeling her slickness, coating his fingers with her.

“…And so wet.”

Oh, what he wouldn't give to have his tongue lap her essence at that very moment, but he relented. There are plenty of days ahead of them to do just that. Still, he found his hips moving softly against her ass, his hot, aching cock dripping generously on her ivory skin.

“Need…you…please–” Amihan begged, her voice ragged full of need. “I want…to see myself…as you fuck me…”

Seeing, hearing, feeling a person like Amihan, who's normally so full of self-control, calm, and collectedness, in this state, so deeply affected by him, begging for him— needing him. Him, only him. It was better than any pleasure the Weave could provide, and it’s a wonder he didn't burst right there and then. Of course, this was not their first time, but by the gods is it intoxicating, like anew, every single time. So how could Gale possibly deny his precious wife’s adorable pleading? When with just the sound of her voice, with the way she looked at him— hells , if she wanted him spinning around her during the act, he was certain to follow.

He lined himself to her centre, the length of him rubbing against her soft folds for some moment, coating his length with her fluids, breath hitching at the feeling. Amihan whimpered, he was so close but refused to enter still. Her hand wrapped around his arm, nails digging on his skin. His teasing was torture for both of them he knew, and yet that made their joining all the more rewarding.

With a knowing smirk, he finally let his cock enter her tight, warm entrance, and immediately Gale was reduced to a mumbling, grunting mess. He took a deep shaky breath to help himself recover composure and continue his hands’ previous ministrations, now joined with his thrusts, tender in pace but firm, and deep.

His hands were relentless in their attention to her body. One rolled a nipple between his fingers, while the other rubbed at her swollen bud, in time with his thrusts. Amihan bit back her moans, her eyes instinctively closing in her own attempt of focusing and recomposing herself.

“My love…my breeze,” Gale murmured between thrusts, “Open your eyes…you promised…please.”

“Gods, Gale–” She let out a needy whine, finding it hard to focus. Her eyes opened once more, and her gaze flitted to their reflections. Of Gale desperately rutting against her, and of her own wanton expression.

“See what I see,” he rasped with a wide smirk. “Look how alluring you are…how lewd…how expressive,” followed by indistinctive strings of praises against her neck.

Gale felt her clench around him at his words, making him drown in that sweet sensation of her tightness. His hips slammed further against her in response. Amihan held on to the mirror, watching her own expression with hazy, unfocused eyes.

“So perfect,” Gale began again, his grip on her becoming tighter, getting more possessive. “Mine…only mine. Only I get to see you like this. Only I…”

“Gale , fuck– ” Amihan cried out curses from her delicate lips. Gale could tell she was close, as was he. His thrusts became more frenzied and erratic, determined to make her reach her peak with him.

“Let go, my breeze. Let me feel you, let me see you,” he cooed, the hand on her breast moving up to her chin to keep her gaze anchored to the mirror.

“Can’t…anymore…coming…Gale– I’m–”

Her back arched against him, mouth opened wide, followed by a gasp and a shiver. Gale felt her contract around him and he followed soon after, spilling inside of her with more strings of incomprehensible praises, not quite as poetic as he normally preferred to be. He kept himself within her for a few more moments, burying his nose in her hair, arms still tight around her, savouring every last drop of their release.

“I love you,” Amihan whispered, her head turning to plant a soft kiss on his temple.

“And I you. I trust I have convinced you on the matter?”

“I don’t know…” she smiled playfully. “Perhaps we need to repeat the activity three more times in order for me to make a sound judgement.”

Gale’s eyes widened in surprise at his wife’s remark, then laughed.

“Have I rubbed off on you that much, dear?”

“Quite.”

[savs-sims98]

Okay I love putting Game Grumps bits over Sylvannah & Astarion😂👌🏼

This heavily influenced me including essential oils in one of the fics I’ve written🤭

[vcrarts]

Chapter 14 is now on Ao3 🖤 I’m eager to hear your thoughts, as this was one of my favourite chapters to write.

FF and Art are both mine, please don't repost!

I'd Burn Through the World

A journey marked by personal evolution, confronting inner and not-so-inner demons and embracing self-compassion—not necessarily in that order.

Or the one with over 150k worth of filler 'episodes', plus an additional 30k of entirely self-indulgent epilogue.

Updates on Saturdays (GMT+7)

(Mostly) Canon compliant / Explicit

[imagineitdearies]

Hey I loved loved loved your fanfiction as I’m sure everyone here did but now I, going through withdrawals I can’t find anything similar or as good as yours. So I’m curious what your favourite bg3 fanfiction are?

Hey there!! Awww, thank you ☺️ I sort of got super focused on writing PS for a while there, so I can't say I know of all The GreatsTM in this fandom. I will share what I have enjoyed/am currently reading though (almost all of it involving Astarion), but anyone else should feel free to add your favs in the comments!!

As always, please check tags and read at your own discretion!

Finished ones I've enjoyed:

Seducere by Tlon ~ Astarion/nb!Tav ~ Astarion doesn’t need a reflection to know himself – two hundred years of servitude has shown him exactly what he’s good for. Odd that his new partner seems to disagree.

Nothing is safe by foxflowering ~ Wyll/Astarion ~ "Wyll's the sort of prince-type I would have once dreamed of marrying. When I was about thirteen."

Carving through the dark by skitter ~ Astarion/f!Tav ~ Wren and Astarion descend into the Underdark in search of a new purpose, and learn a few things along the way. Namely, that healing isn't linear and sometimes love takes the long way round.

Astarion Origin Party Nonsense by starkraving ~ Astarion/Karlach; Astarion/Cazador, sort of Astarion/Wyll? ~ A collection of things that ostensibly happen in the same little mental universe. Loosely based on the events of an Origin Astarion run and the various questions it inspired. (All but one in the series is finished so I'm counting it, lol!)

All Our Missing Parts by Viraaja ~ Astarion/Halsin ~ Halsin discovers Astarion was turned before his maturity and all the sacred elven rites that come along with it. Including the sex one.

Friday Nights by SadinaSaphrite ~ Astarion/Gale ~ Professor Gale Dakarios loses his research, his magic, and his lover Mystra all at once and only has himself to blame. When he goes to drown his sorrows, he meets a pale stranger with mysteries of his own.

visions of your love by LargeOctahedron, notyournoise ~ Shadowheart/f!Tav ~ Shadowheart is tired of doubting - of feeling her heart twist whenever she looks at Tav without knowing whether they feel the same. One night, tired of sitting and hoping Tav will approach, she tries to read their mind, only to find them in a rather compromising position.

WIPs I'm following:

Palmarosa by thespectaclesofthor ~ Astarion/Raphael ~ Astarion is stuck in the darkness once more, yearning for sunlight with every fibre of his being, while bitterly reflecting on all the things that were denied to him. Raphael knows Astarion's desperate, and comes to him with not one, but two horrid contract offers that Astarion loathes and dreads in equal measure - but the prize at the end of both are too good to turn down.

To Defy the Gods by ~ Shadowheart/Tav ~ Dark Justiciar. Mother Superior. Shar's Voice Made Flesh. Her Chosen. Shadowheart had emptied her heart of falsehoods, of the illusion of life and love, and accepted the inevitability of loss. Almost.

A Dog's Retreat by ~ Halsin & Astarion, past Astarion/Cazador ~ For most, it was just the end of the Absolute. For Astarion, it was the end of two hundred years of agony. And the transition is steep and slippery. Now, all he can do is hope that there are enough pieces of him left for him to pick up and somehow put back together. Too bad hope has never been Astarion’s poison of choice.

A Warm House, A Ruddy Fire by DepravedJJJSchmidt ~ trans!Astarion/Cazador, trans!Astarion/m!Tav ~ Mr. and Mrs. Cazador Szarr have an ideal marriage. Astarion doesn't know if he will be able to survive another year of it. (And I don't know if I'll survive another chapter tbh, but like a burning building I can't look away 😬)

Alright, that's all I can think of! I'm a bit distracted all over again thanks to the original novel I'm working on now, but hopefully you find something new on this list you end up enjoying 🩵 this fandom is full of so many talented people!!

[optiwashere]

I realized I hadn't written anything about Shadowheart's physical scars in the Asheeraverse. Let's weave them into Shadowheart's more internal scars, why don't we? How about quite soon after the Gauntlet, too. Girl's straight up not having a good time.

What if I said if the angst had some emotional hurt/comfort to go along with it? We love exploring characters' emotional vulnerability in this household.

No Archive Warnings Apply.

Rating: M for themes and a fade to black

Category: F/F

Ship: Shadowheart/Trans Fem Tav

Tags and AO3 Summary beneath the break!

Tags: Romance, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Religious Guilt, Loneliness, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Bathing/Washing, Scars, Trans Female Character, Trans Tav (Baldur's Gate), Half-Orc Tav

Summary:

One night, with Baldur's Gate waiting for them just on the horizon, Shadowheart sits by herself and fears about what may come when she confronts the Sharrans that once called her sister as well as her former Mother Superior. She thinks herself alone, lost. With Asheera at her side, she cannot be truly alone. Together, they explore Shadowheart's scars.

[roughlytwentytwofrogs]

After literal months, I present to you finally my Florrick/Mizora one shot (public cheers, fireworks in the distance)

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: F/F Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games) Relationship: Florrick/Mizora (Baldur's Gate) Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Toxic Relationship, Manipulative Relationship, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Clothed Sex, Chair Sex Language: English Words: 3,671

Summary:

In which Lady Mizora goes to visit her favorite counsellor to apologize for the political fuss she may have caused.

[tadfools]

You guys are commenting on the fics you read right? You’re at least leaving kudos on the Astarion smut and the pairs that have less than 20 fics for them too? You’re bookmarking stories you really like that are still being updated and ones that haven’t been touched in over a year right?

You know that even the smallest interactions are like cocaine to fic writers right? You understand how important a string of emoji hearts left behind on a chapter at three am is right?? Right????

You’re treating AO3 like a community and not a content factory….right?

[cathartictrash]

Someone write a Halstarion AU where Astarion is an environmental lawyer and Halsin is an activist and arborist. They initially dislike each other because Astarion views Halsin as "some granola hippie treehugger," and Halsin views Astarion as a "corporate cog." They fall in love slowly after meeting at a protest where Halsin chains himself to a tree, and Astarion speaks to the media about the facts of the case.

PLEASE.

[colonelarr0w]

Astarion, once he's comfortable with you, is definitely the type of man to sleepily reach for you when he realizes that you've rolled out of his arms at night.

Like the moment, and I mean the moment, that he doesn't feel you wrapped up in his arms, he's up. Sure, he's groggy as all hell and he can't properly see anything around him -- but all he knows is that he's not holding you when he most definitely should be.

He'll push himself up onto his elbows, squinting to see that you've turned yourself away from him and rolled out of his arms. Your back is turned to him, but he knows that it wasn't intentional.

With a fanged yawn, Astarion reaches for you again. His arms loop around your waist and turn you around, tucking your head beneath his chin. Instinctively, your legs tangle with his own, your arms adjusting to wrap around his midsection.

He grins to himself, content again.

[riseatlantisss]

Careful, he bites

Pairing : Astarion x female!reader around 900 words.

morning sex. in bed. with the most amazing vampire. that’s it that’s the plot ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW : 18+, shameless smut, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, tiny bit of fang kink

I love him a completely normal amount

You open your eyes slowly, savouring the blissful, heavy fog of sleep that still weighs on your mind. The voice that greets you is one you’re sure you’ll never tire of.

“Good morning, my sweet”, Astarion whispers against your ear. The bed smells of night-blooming flowers and cold winter air, just like him. His body is a comforting spoon, the nice coolness of his powerful chest sends shivers down your spine.

Your eyelids are still heavy and with a smile, you settle back in and bury your head in your soft pillow, eager for just a few more hours of precious sleep before starting a new day in the underdark.

Astarion, of course, has other ideas. He exhales and you can feel the light puff of cold air against the back of your neck. Icy fingers skate down your bare arm, dragging the strap of your night gown with them. He dips his head and nuzzles the junction of your neck and shoulder. He toys with the hem of your night gown before slipping beneath it to caress the curve of your hip. You revel in his low groan of appreciation as he discovers you’re wearing nothing underneath.

“Gods, the things you do to me,” he growls, voice muffled slightly as he breathes your scent. “Let me take care of you.”

Wordlessly, you nod and he wastes no time. He gives you a sloppy, hungry kiss that is all tongues, teeth and fangs, and then slowly lowers himself. His fangs leave burning trails across your skin, and you love every bit of it.

You can feel his erection grow next to your thigh and you raise a hand forward to touch him but he grabs your wrist and stops the motion. 

“No, darling,” he grins, “it is all about you today.”

“But –” your attempt to argue is cut short as Astarion disappears between your thighs, wraps his wet lips around your clit and starts sucking. You let out an unbelievably loud whimper of pleasure and he smirks against your body.

Pinning your thighs apart, he works his tongue in an up-and-down motion on one side of your clit and then the other. You grind into his mouth shamelessly as his tongue continues working its magic. Without interruption, he slips first one finger, then two inside you, and pushes them up against your G-spot. You’re already starting to see stars as you feel his fangs settle in the soft mound of flesh above your clit. He applies just enough pressure for it to deliciously sting without ever hurting. Those tiny pinpricks combined with the sucking of your clit and the impossible rhythm of his fingers inside you made you cry out.

“Astarion – I’m– “ you try to articulate between two heavy breaths.  

“I’m right there with you, my love,” he mutters and presses his fangs slightly deeper into your skin, as to urge you to stop fighting the wave of pleasure trying to make its way through your shivering body.  

His tongue slips across that one spot on the tip of your clit that always sets you off, and suddenly you are coming on his mouth, grasping fistfuls of his silver hair and moaning and moaning and moaning. He pushes his fangs deeper and deeper into your skin as he rides out your orgasm with you, using his free hand to hold your hips steady. Your core spasms longer than a pulsing heart, each beat making you thrash helplessly on the bed as he pushes his fingers deep. ​​He waits until you come down from your high before slowly sliding his two fingers out of you and into his mouth to lick them clean. The rest of the world begins to come back into focus but you do not care for it. You only have eyes for him.  

​​"You are absolutely exquisite when you come," he chuckles in that ridiculously arrogant way he has.

He licks his lips as he rises, expression as lazy and smug as a contented cat. You haul him up and into your arms and kiss him hard. He wraps his strong arms around you protectively and takes a moment to listen to your breathing, still shallow from the love explosion. He finds infinite comfort in the repeated rise and fall of your chest. It proves to him that you are real, safe and here, right next to him. 

Before you, Astarion had never known true bliss. Sex – even when it’s mindblowing – doesn’t fix the part of you that’s broken. Good sex soothes, but doesn’t cure, and Astarion, who’s been using sex as a valium substitute since he’s been free from his former Master’s control, knows it better than anyone. But with you, it’s not just sex. It’s safety. It’s intimacy. It’s respect. And it’s all he’s ever wanted.