#bg3 tav serafina

[tragedybunny]

Slow Dancing In a Burning Room - Chapter 1

༺Summary༻

In a moment of weakness, Serafina helped Astarion ascend, forever altering him and their relationship. Irrevocably bonded in violence, can she survive life at his side, or will she be broken by the cycle of pain and terror.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav)

༺Warnings༻ Dubcon / Noncon elements (mild this chapter), violence, toxic / abusive relationships

༺Word Count༻ 2128

༺A/N༻This will be a bit of a darker take on Ascended Astarion and the relationship with his Consort, and a bit of an AU for how I normally portray him and Serafina's relationship. As such I am not tagging anyone unless specifically requested for this fic. Additionally I would like to note this is my take on Ascended Astarion, or maybe one of my takes on him, but I will not say it is some definitive take and does not invalidate anyone else's headcanon or ideas about the character. Thanks to @leomonae for betaing this chapter.

꧁༺Chapter 1 - The Ascendant Vampire Lord ༻꧂

“Isn’t that what you want, to be mine forever?” the man that still bore Astarion’s appearance, but seemed less like him every passing moment, asked. 

A great, black pit opened in Serafina’s heart at his words. Never once had she indicated that she wished to be his spawn - or Consort, as he was so deviously calling it. “No, Astarion, that’s not what I want at all.” 

None of this was what she wanted. The ritual had promised him freedom, and in a moment of weakness, with his tormentor there on his knees, she’d agreed. The thousands of spawn couldn’t be loosed upon the world, and this way Astarion would be safe. Maybe it was the exhaustion and fear that had worn down her senses, maybe it was her foolish heart, so blindly in love, but something had clouded her judgment in that moment. And now nothing felt right; there was something different behind those crimson eyes she’d thought she knew so well. Or maybe she hadn’t; maybe this was him all along. There was something cruel and hungry, lurking, waiting, and when he stared at her too long, it made her shiver. And all those souls…

“Ah, pity. You deserve to be beautiful forever, my love.” Then those eyes softened and it was the Astarion she knew looking at her. Smiling warmly, he wrapped her in his arms, and kissed her forehead. “But whatever makes my darling happy.” 

Burying her face in his chest, she could feel his hands softly rubbing her back. Was it possible she’d been imagining all that darkness? After almost a full day without sleep, and the trauma of the battle with Cazador and the ritual, she was no longer sure of anything. 

Just thinking about it made her yawn unconsciously. “Is my little love sleepy,” he cooed in her ear, hands running through her hair, just like all the nights they’d shared a bed and he’d cuddled close to her. 

It was her own guilt, that was all. The guilt for those lives that had been taken in the ritual. This was still Astarion; her exhausted mind was just playing tricks on her. “Mmm, yeah, I can hardly stand.” 

She gasped as her legs were swept out from under her and Astarion held her to his chest. “Private room, a little time for just the two if us before you sleep?” he asked in a sultry whisper, his offer clear.

Suddenly much more awake, looking up, she caught his gaze again, wondering at the sudden desire. “You’re sure?”

“Don’t be…” His response was almost snappish, but he caught himself. “Of course I am. I love you.” 

Three little words, everyone’s favorite. Was he sincere? But why wouldn’t he be, after everything? Gods, she really was too tired. “I love you too, Astarion.” 

“Always?” It sounded like a plea: like the man who told her that he’d deceived her into loving him, but that he wanted it to be real. 

“Always, my Starry Sky,” She kissed the hollow of his throat softly, content to accept his words, and let him carry her away to the room at the Elfsong set apart from the shared common area.

The room was full of soft candlelight and the bed was freshly made, the scent of clean linen mixed with Astarion’s own blend of bergamot, rosemary, and brandy. It felt vibrant, alive, and welcoming. He gently laid her down amongst the pillows. “Let's get you comfortable,” Astarion purred, pulling her boots off. 

Sera shifted, pushing up on her elbows as her boots were discarded, her exhausted brain trying to fend off the last of the drowsiness. Something cold slithered into her stomach as Astarion began to strip off his shirt, baring himself to the waist. No, they were celebrating, this was their victory. There was nothing wrong with it. 

“Like what you see?” he smirked, the picture of that roguish charm she'd fallen for. 

A hesitant smile answered him. This was what she wanted, Astarion happy and the two of them free to be in love. “Is there any doubt, my love?” He was too far away though. “Come to me, I want to touch you.” That would put things right, having him in her arms. 

“Soon, my treasure.” He was already tugging on the laces of his trousers. The way he was rid of them and his boots was too precise: methodical, not passionate. 

Sitting fully, she pushed back against those thoughts. They were finding themselves again. For a moment, she drank him in, in all his impossible beauty, as though hand-sculpted by some god. “Astarion.” The word was a plea: for him to touch her, to show her those doubts were unfounded. 

With feline grace he came to her, kneeling beside her on the bed, his lips capturing hers before traversing down. “My sweet Serafina,” he murmured, lips burning hot against her skin as fangs teased her throat. Fingers that no longer held the cool of the grave brushed her skin as he tugged at her shirt. Shrugging out of it, she pulled him to her, hands wandering his ivory skin, the lines of his scars rigid against her palms. A reminder that he had paid the price for all of this years before the ritual. Didn’t he deserve the freedom it gave him?

“I love you, I want you,” she moaned as his tongue ran along the shell of her ear. 

“Then you shall have me, my love.” Already his hands were working to free her from her pants, moving to them from her waist at such speed, she’d hardly noticed. He stripped them from her with demanding fervor. 

Greedily, his eyes roamed her bared body. “My love, all mine,” he growled, shifting to kneel between her thighs, spreading her legs. 

As he leaned down to kiss her again, the press of his cock against her already wet slit made her whimper and roll her hips against him. My love, the blood in her veins sang, echoing him; her whole body craving him and her heart trembling with love. 

“Mine,” he whispered again, darkness slipping into his voice. 

A shiver ran through her and her lips parted. Whatever words she might have said died on her tongue as his unyielding grip fixed on her wrists, pinning them above her head. A gasp was pulled from her as his cock pushed inside her, forcing her open for him. 

The pain was momentary as slow thrusts of his hips let her accommodate his girth. And it was so good to feel him inside her, to be together in this way. Rolling her hips, she met his thrusts, even as her wrists remained pinned above her. Soft whimpers filled the air between them as he lavished soft kisses on her skin from her chest to her throat. They lingered on the spot he'd bitten last, marks all but faded. 

Without warning, his fangs pierced her skin; Sera let out a yelp, but the sting faded into the haze of pleasure quickly. Blood pumped from her heart to his, nourishing the man she loved. “Astarion,” she breathed, feeling herself clench around him. 

“Come for me, my pet.” Something was wrong again, his voice like ice, the hands that held her turned to iron. Gasping, her release came, but his fangs remained in her neck, drawing out a crimson tide.

“Astarion, stop.” Her voice had already grown quiet, the edges of her vision blackening. Panic weighed down her already struggling heart. He had no intention of stopping, did he? Weakly, she tried to fight the grip on her wrists that held her in place and robbed her of her ability to cast magic. Far away, she could hear something: a slow thudding, her heart beating out its last feeble pumps. Eyelids that were too heavy closed and the cold of the grave Astarion had escaped enveloped her. 

“You’ll thank me later, little love,” the Vampire Ascendant said, with the voice of the man she loved. 

There was nothing, just an endless sea of icy darkness. It was peaceful though: no tadpole, no warlock pact, no family to run from and haunt her memories…no Astarion and whatever the ritual had done to him. If this was eternity, she could embrace it and lay down her burdens. 

It seemed that was too much to ask of the universe; awareness slowly came back to her. Limbs stiff and cold, not responding as they should, lungs that didn’t move of their own accord anymore, and a heart that barely beat. Flashes of images filled her mind, sensations and snippets of what had happened, Astarion on top of her, draining her life away, betraying her. Her dead heart ached and she hesitantly ran a tongue over her teeth, finding elongated canines sharp enough to prick. Maybe if she just kept her eyes closed, she could finish dying, and not face what had been done. 

“I can sense you stirring, Serafina. Open your eyes, love. Let me welcome you to your new life.” It wasn’t a command that compelled her and yet, she found herself inclined to do as he asked. Another wound to add to the others tearing her apart. He was her murderer and master in the span of hours. And she, his spawn and consort. 

Eyes opening, she found him sitting next to her, peacefully reading. “There you are,” Astarion’s smile was enough to bare his fangs as he greeted her. “How do you feel?”

Sera whimpered, eyes surprisingly wet for someone who was dead. “Why?” 

Astarion’s book snapped shut violently and his crimson eyes turned hard. “Are you really going to be petulant and ungrateful? I did this for you. You weren’t ready to accept it yet, but now you’ll live forever, perfect and beautiful.” Wetness dotted her cheeks and his voice turned gentle again. “Shh, I’m sorry I was short with you.” Sliding closer, he wrapped an arm around her, coaxing her to lay her head on his shoulder. “I love you Sera. I had to do this, I couldn’t bear to ever be without you. Don’t you understand?”

She hadn’t been ready for everything that had happened since she was taken by the Nautiloid. All she had wanted was freedom, not to become everyone’s leader and pillar of support, not to fall so helplessly in love. One misstep had brought it all crashing down. The striving had tired her, and it was easier to nod her head, stifle her tears, and agree with him. Easier to believe him. That it was for love. “I wish you would’ve given me time to think.” 

“Sera.” His voice caught in appropriate regret, “I’m sorry. I just did it, I didn’t think. We’ll be alright, won’t we?”

“We will,” she reassured him, taking his hand in hers. They were bound now anyway; looking back just meant more regrets. 

Tilting her head up, he brought his lips delicately to hers, leaving a pleasant haze in her mind, so unlike the last, violent, touch of his that had ended her life. “That’s more like it, my sweet.” A sudden pain in her abdomen caused her to wince, and Astarion cup her cheek softly, rubbing a thumb along it comfortingly. “You poor thing, I bet you’re starving too. Once we get some blood in you, everything will be alright. Let’s go get changed and see to it.”

Astarion rose, offering her his hand and helping her up. Her legs trembled slightly and she fought to steady herself. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he chuckled softly. “At least you didn’t have to claw your way out of your grave.”

He let her lean on him all the way back to the common room, his touch making her feel safe, wanted, loved. Perhaps there was something to this new Astarion: a stronger man than before, more sure of himself. Not that he hadn’t made her feel those same things before, but there was more confidence in him now. 

There was no mistaking what Astarion had done as their group gathered to plan their day. Her companions studied her, none of them remarking on the change for the moment. Finally, when their eyes seemed to harbor some unvoiced suspicion, Astarion whisked her away, explaining her need to be fed. 

As she changed for the day, Shadowheart wandered over, some laundry of Sera’s that had been mixed into hers in her hand. Sera was about to thank her, when she leaned in and whispered swiftly, “I thought you didn’t want to do this?’

Swallowing thickly, Sera let her eyes wander to where Astarion was discussing something with Gale. “I changed my mind,” she lied. They wouldn’t understand; they were so ready to condemn him as a monster. “Astarion needs me.”

[inquisitor-julia]

Did some of those cute kiss picrews that have been going around!

Ft. my cousland and alistair, hawke and anders, trevelyan and cullen, solas and lavellan, astarion and tav, and my dnd girl and her LI <3

[dynjas]

Not me starting bg3 just to let Halsin kiss me senseless.

I need to write, goddamn it!

[tragedybunny]

𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝕬𝖗𝖊 𝕲𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖑𝖞 𝕴𝖓𝖛𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖉

On the day of the summer solstice, the Vampire Ascendant will wed his beloved consort, Serafina Glacies.

The occasion promises to be one Baldur's Gate will never forget, with noble and monster alike in attendance. All will finally bask in the glory of Lord Astarion, and of course, his bride.

Who will attend? What of their former friends? Will the ceremony prove to be the resurrection of their love, or a nail in the coffin of it?

All will be revealed in "Slow Dancing In A Burning Room"

(I am so hype to write this wedding. Invitation by @elorathebard)

[tragedybunny]

Serafina, being there for Astarion

[tragedybunny]

WIP Whatever

I got tagged by the amazing @justporo to share WIPs, so buckle up baby. This is the start of something spicy.

“You’ll have to entertain yourself, darling.” He said as a warning. If she needed to play, he would oblige.  “Not if I make you entertain me,” she snatched his book out of his hand with a mischievous laugh.  She was absolutely asking for it. Astarion sighed with feigned irritation, pulling his book back and setting it down next to him. “You’re being an absolute brat,” she smirked at him, daring him to do something about it. “If you need to be entertained I suppose I’ll indulge you.” She opened her mouth, no doubt about to declare victory, but he cut her off. “Bring me your hairbrush.”  “No, wait, I’m sorry.” The turn of attitude was impressive, but all part of the game.  “Oh no, my dear, sweet Serafina, it’s far too late for apologies. Hairbrush, now.” He sat up, putting his legs over the edge of the bed, a perfect spot for her to lay in. 

tagging: @tallymonster @brabblesblog @leomonae @bhaalbaaby

@astarioffsimpmain @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate @littlejuicebox

@pursuitseternal

Shit...you know who you are.

[tragedybunny]

Slow Dancing In a Burning Room - Chapter 3

༺Summary༻

In a moment of weakness, Serafina helped Astarion ascend, forever altering him and their relationship. Irrevocably bonded in violence, can she survive life at his side, or will she be broken by the cycle of pain and terror.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav)

༺Warnings༻ Dubcon / Noncon elements , violence, toxic / abusive relationships

༺Word Count༻ 3057

༺Masterlist༻

༺A/N༻ I'm pretty happy with the way this one turned out! Hope you enjoy it.

Huge thanks to @leomonae for the fantastic beta work and for showing me the art of the semicolon.

Read on AO3

꧁༺Chapter 3 - Second, Thou Shalt Drink Blood as I Have Commanded ༻꧂

༺ Astarion brings Serafina a gift and the second of his rules is made clear to her.༻

How long Serafina had waited for Astarion to return, she couldn’t say. One day flowed into another, all of them soon becoming like one. The servants still came, to tend to her and their rooms, but they were always silent. The smell of living blood in their veins stirred the growing ache in her stomach, the feeling of emptiness. It never truly went away, even the Ascendant’s gifts couldn’t protect his spawn from that curse, but the denial of even a drop of animal blood turned the subtle burn into an inferno. And then the servants stopped coming, because Astarion knew, even in his absence, what was happening to her. Whatever he had planned, he wanted her hungry, and it seemed he didn’t want to risk her breaking before he was ready. 

Their rooms offered little entertainment to distract from the hunger. She could read from their private library, bathe, watch the streets of the Gate from her window, write letters to old companions – and wait for responses that had been increasingly sparse since they parted ways – but that was it. After a while, sleep became her favorite activity, her head too foggy for anything more involved. 

She spent unknown hours lying motionless among a sea of black silk sheets, staring at the tapestries and paintings that lined the walls: scenes Astarion’s defeat of Cazador, his ascension, the saving of Baldur’s Gate, and the day they claimed Szarr manor as their rightful home. And there she was, beside him through it all. His beloved. 

And then, the mental haze was erased in a moment when an envelope slid under her door one morning. “My Precious Treasure,” was written on it, in Astarion’s immaculate script. Despite the betrayal of her imprisonment, Serafina’s heart leapt. She’d known he wouldn’t abandon her entirely, but how long he would make her wait had been in question. Astarion had proven himself capable of the most stubborn grudge holding. 

Fingers hastily tore into it, yanking the letter free with ragged anticipation. The words adorning the parchment were a sliver of hope that she eagerly clung to. 

“Serafina, my beloved,

Tonight, I will come to you, and we will end this unpleasantness between us. Not having you in my arms every night has been a great suffering, but I know we will be stronger for this, our love deeper. Tonight I will come bearing a gift, and show you how strong my love for you is. 

Until then, my love,

Your Astarion”

Deep down, something within her recoiled at the happiness the words sparked. Something that remembered her past; something that had fought for her freedom, what seemed like a lifetime ago. Something that bristled at this gilded cage. 

How long had it been since the Netherbrain? Time was strange, as a vampire who spent most of her days in Astarion’s palace. Serafina tried to think back: it had undergone some of his grand renovation plans, and he had made two other spawn to assist with his aspirations among the city’s elite. Which suggested that it had been a few years, at least. 

Not that it mattered; she was where she had chosen to be. She had loved Astarion, and had tried to give him everything – for that matter, she loved him still. And he still loved her, Serafina knew, it was just… different, now. But even that too could change, the letter evidence he’d already begun to soften. 

With the new burst of energy brought by the letter and her anticipation of Astarion’s imminent return, the rest of the day was spent carefully readying herself. A bath with his favorite scents; hair left loose and flowing, so he could run his fingers through it. And a dress that was little more than a swath of crimson silk over the intimate parts of her body, to complete the image. The Ascendant’s consort; just the way he desired her. 

The sun was just setting when the door to the grand bedchamber opened. Her lord and lover entered; Sera had been seated in a plush chair near the fire, built up to blazing despite the warm weather with her body so cold from lack of blood these days, but a sharp burst of warmth shot through her at the sight of him. Dressed in black silk with fine gold embroidered details, Astarion looked more than regal: he looked divine. 

Serafina rose to greet him; the corners of her lips curled up into a smile. 

“My darling,” he purred, pulling her into his arms and kissing her deeply. “I’ve missed you so, my love.” 

“I was here, but you-” she started to protest; he gently placed a finger to her lips. 

“Shh, we can talk about all of that later. Let me give you your gift first.” 

Serafina nodded; there was nothing to be gained from spoiling his soft mood.

Arm still hooked around her waist, Astarion turned them both toward the door. “Enter, Navril.” 

Sera tensed against Astarion as a beautiful young elven man entered. Red hair cascaded down his back; his eyes were like liquid gold, as he gazed at Astarion with the besotted look she’d seen in others so often before. His sun-kissed skin glowed with the blush of life; he was vibrant and warm, and each beat of his heart sent a feast of blood pulsing through his veins. 

Her stomach clenched; she tried not to start salivating. 

“Command me, my lord,” Navril said, his voice airy and musical.

Rather than replying, Astarion looked over to Serafina, then nodded her over towards the young man.  A gift, he had said.

“What am I to do with him?” Serafina’s eyes dropped to the floor as she spoke; she could almost hear that blood singing to her. 

Astarion chuckled. “Let him pleasure you – well, us – of course.” 

A sharpened fang dug into her lip; she was so hungry. But doing what Astarion wanted would please him, and make their reunion easier. She could ask him for blood afterwards. And anyway, this wasn’t the first playmate he’d dragged to their bed. The first had been a plump little blonde human he’d tried to keep as a spawn. She’d met a stake one night in the castle gardens, when Serafina had found her there alone. Strangely, he’d seemed more proud than angry. But from then on, spawn were not for pleasure, and his toys always disappeared again after one night. 

“If you command it, my love.” She stepped away from Astarion and glanced Navril up and down before addressing him. “Disrobe. Let me see what my lord has brought to me.” 

Navril hesitated, looking between the two of them and seeming unsure. 

“You heard her,” Astarion said, tone cool. 

This time Navril listened,  his simple tunic and pants quickly discarded. His skin was free from anything that would mar it, suggesting the warm tone was gained through pleasure, not work, and the same for the softness of his body. Perhaps a man of learning, or the son of a noble? Not that it would matter, when Astarion was done with him. All that mattered in here was the cock between Navril’s legs, already stirring to life.

“Now, what ever should we do with him,” Astarion coaxed, leaning over to kiss and nibble at her neck. 

Serafina considered the question. Truthfully, the additions to their bed held little interest for her, but it pleased Astarion to have her participate. And there were ways to do that without her own direct involvement. 

“I want to watch him suck your cock.”

Her words earned a toothy smile from him, fangs flashing alluringly from between his lips; she had fallen in love with that smile once upon a time. “A delightful start.” He placed her hands on his trousers, a silent command for her to open them. 

Obeying, she took him in her hand, stroking with a light, teasing touch, before backing away to gesture to their guest. Navril obediently dropped to his knees, mouth opening to accept Astarion’s cock. He ran his tongue along the length and over the head, coating it in saliva, before taking it all the way inside. 

Astarion gave a muted groan. 

Sera settled herself on the bed, legs spread, watching the lewd spectacle Astarion was making of Navril. But it didn’t last long at all.

“Not one whiff of arousal from my treasure; you’re boring her,” Astarion snapped suddenly, and gripped Navril’s hair in unrelenting fingers. With a violent thrust, he plunged the length of himself into Navril’s throat. 

Serafina felt a pang of regret for the too-soon loss of Astarion’s softer manner, muted by relief she wasn’t on the receiving end of this mood swing. 

Navril gagged as Astarion roughly fucked his face, still snapping orders at him. “That’s it, make a show for her. This is all for her, and you wouldn’t want to disappoint my consort, would you Navril? ” 

All for her. That stirred her, and her hand drifted between her thighs. Astarion froze, pulling back from Navril’s lips, leaving the man to mop the tears from his face. 

“Your turn, my sweet Serafina.” Astarion stalked toward the bed, discarding clothing and boots in his wake. 

“Come here,” he ordered the waiting Navril, pointing to the spot on the ground between her legs. 

“Yes, my lord.” The man’s eyes were hazy and he spoke as though enthralled. Not an impossible prospect. 

When he rose to obey, Astarion stopped him with a noise of disapproval. “On your knees, lest you forget how far above you she is.”

Sera blushed at the praise as Astarion settled himself behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Kissing and nipping at her ear, he whispered gently, “You’re so beautiful when you get excited, my love.”

Pulling down the shoulders of her gown, he exposed her pale breasts and pebbled nipples to Navril. “Touch her,” Astarion’s velvet voice commanded. 

Kneeling between her legs, Navril reached for her to obey. Fingers traced over her skin gently, circling the sensitive buds; Astarion made a noise of impatience. His own elegant fingers came around to pinch and roll them instead, much more harshly. Serafina whimpered and squirmed against him, his growing hardness pressing against her backside. He always knew how to drive her mad. 

“Shh, pet, you’re going to have every pleasure soon enough.” He gave her nipples a rough tug that left them stinging. “Now keep your legs spread.”

Obediently, she left them open wide, as Astarion reached out and tugged Navril by his hair toward her waiting sex. And then the same tongue that had tasted her lover tasted her, too, dipping into her folds and exploring her. 

“Does she not have the sweetest taste?” Astarion asked. Not that Navril could reply, of course.

Little licks went from teasing her hole to caressing her wanting clit. Her hips rolled against Navril’s face as Astarion continued to hold him in place. Warmth was building inside her, and she began to lose herself in the euphoric sensations. 

“Do you think you can make her come?” Astarion said, almost taunting. His free hand cupped Sera's breast, abusing her sore nipple again.

Turning her head, she tried to bury her face in his neck as she whined. She felt Navril pick up the pace, sucking at her clit ravenously. “Astarion,” she moaned, pleading; Navril was but the tool, it was Astarion who dictated her pleasure. 

“Come my love.” Astarion’s hand slipped down to slide fingers inside her, while Navril continued to suckle at her most sensitive part. 

With all of Astarion’s attention on her, Serafina lost herself, whimpering and crying out. 

“Good pet,” he crooned, fingers still playing with her briefly before he withdrew them, then took his time to lick each one clean, the lewd, wet sounds echoing in her ear. “Lay back,” he commanded. 

Sera felt herself tense; she never liked having anyone else besides Astarion himself inside her like that. But he was in such a good mood today, even after the earlier threat that it might turn worse. So she let herself be guided down onto the mattress, as Astarion moved out from behind her and slid her back from the edge. The fabric of her dress fanned out around her as she laid back, barely clinging to her body. 

Astarion looked to Navril, who waited on his knees still. “Fuck her; take my little love to ecstasy.” 

Wasting no time, Navril scrambled onto the bed and settled himself between her thighs. Looking down at her with eyes hazy from lust, he leaned his head toward her lips. 

Astarion struck lightning fast, his hand cracking against Navril’s cheek. “Those are mine alone.” His words came on a low, dangerous growl, and Navril tensed for a second. “As you were.” 

Seemingly afraid to disappoint again, Navril slid himself inside her quickly. Sera silently thanked the gods she was already ready for him as his girth stretched her. This close, the scent of his blood was almost overpowering, her hunger no longer so easily forgotten in the chaos of Astarion’s game. She found herself salivating again as Navril moved inside her, her fangs almost aching. 

“Astarion, I can’t,” she whined, the pleasure between her legs background noise to her rising desire for Navril’s blood. 

Astarion answered her with a predatory smile. Moving with unnatural grace, he left from her side, positioning himself behind Navril. Peering over Navril’s shoulder, he locked eyes with her and brought two fingers to his mouth, sucking on them just enough to wet them. Eyes never leaving hers, his hand drifted downwards. 

Navril groaned; Sera almost pitied him. Pleasure was often short-lived, with Astarion. 

“So greedy for both of us.” Astarion's voice was silken and beguiling, a tone he'd used with her once long ago, in a hidden clearing in the woods. 

Gripping Navril’s hips, Astarion drove forward, and Navril yelped in pain. “Take what you want,” he ordered, thrusting into Navril, causing him to move inside Sera.

She rolled her hips into it and moaned. It felt sinfully delicious to be fucked with Navril’s cock by Astarion like this. 

“You like that, little love?” he teased. 

Navril’s face scrunched in pain when Astarion moved again, pushing him forward, drawing more sounds from Sera in the process. Loved, spoiled, treasured… only Astarion could make her feel this way. 

As Astarion picked up his rhythm, Navril flailed for purchase, hands coming to grip the sheets desperately as he tried to remain upright. He grunted, almost collapsing under the assault as Astarion leaned over him,hips pumping relentlessly. 

Sera ignored him, looking up past him to Astarion’s face, watching him chase his own release as the body he forced into her pushed her to her own. She was so close, and Astarion was fucking into Navril with reckless violence. 

“Please,” the elf between them whimpered. 

“I…” Sera breathed, her body contracting around Navril, banishing all thoughts. 

Time slowed; she watched, transfixed, as Astarion’s mouth moved toward Navril’s throat. A cruel motion wrenched his head to the side; predatory fangs tore into his flesh. 

A rain of red spattered against her skin, the scent making her stomach roil. “Astarion,” she whispered through the haze of lust and hunger. A satisfied smirk answered her before he leaned over to lap at the blood now dripping from Navril’s neck. A pained whimper escaped her and she felt her hands come to rest on Navril’s shoulders, fingernails digging into the skin. 

What little blood there was in her thundered in her veins, a noise to drown out Navril’s suffering. Her mouth salivated as the coppery tang of his blood consumed all her senses. She was so, so hungry, and a feast was spilling down onto her. Distantly, she heard her own protests in her mind, her horror at the urge for a thinking creature’s blood. 

She pulled Navril toward herself as his eyes widened in horror, no escape possible trapped between the two of them. Mouth opening, her tongue caressed his blood-slick skin, a taste like nothing else in the world sending a new kind of pleasure pulsing through her. Hands moving from shoulders to hair, she forced his neck to her waiting teeth, body and mind demanding she sate herself. 

The wound Astarion had opened allowed just enough to tease; she tore into it further, sucking at the sweet nectar released. 

“That’s it, my sweet love, drink your fill,” Astarion encouraged, watching her from above Navril’s shuddering form. 

With his blood flowing into her, she could hear Navril’s heart, hear how it grew weaker with every swallowed mouthful. Again, her mind railed: she was killing him, just as she said she would never do. But the taste was so luscious, and her stomach didn’t hurt for the first time in years. 

Navril made a horrible rattling sound; she felt the flow of blood slow, then stop. The warmth filling her mouth ebbed away, and sanity returned. Hands and teeth released him, but he remained slumped over her. Navril was dead. 

“Oh gods,” she said softly, awareness washing over her. “I - I…”

“You ate properly for the first time,” Astarion said, tone gentle, at least for the moment. “As you deserve.  As you’ve always deserved.”

Standing, he pulled Navril’s body off of her, casually discarding him onto the floor, his purpose served. He settled himself onto the sheets next to Sera and pulled her into his arms. “I’m so proud of you, my love, taking care of yourself.” 

“But he, he was alive. And -” 

And she’d killed him. Murdered a thinking creature, a person, to quiet her own aching hunger. 

“Stop that,” Astarion responded sharply. “You’ve done what you needed to do. I don’t need you to backslide. I want my pretty little consort as healthy as she can be. I have great plans for the next few months, and you need to be fit to be by my side.” 

Fingers stroked her hair as he spoke, their gentleness in direct opposition to the demanding words. Astarion was happy with her, and she finally had peace from the awful hunger that haunted her. And so, resting her cheek against his chest, smearing gore from her face across that perfect ivory skin, she gave in. 

Even if she resisted, there was no doubt he would just find some other way to help her. 

[tragedybunny]

Slow Dancing In a Burning Room - Interlude

༺Summary༻

In a moment of weakness, Serafina helped Astarion ascend, forever altering him and their relationship. Irrevocably bonded in violence, can she survive life at his side, or will she be broken by the cycle of pain and terror.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav)

༺Warnings༻ Dubcon / Noncon elements , violence, toxic / abusive relationships

༺Word Count༻ 1332

༺Masterlist༻

༺A/N༻ I am engaging in a fantastic idea I had for this story.

Thanks to @leomonae for the beta and being an amazing friend.

And thanks to @elorathebard for the fun image at the end.

Read on AO3

꧁༺Interlude - A Most Pressing Question ༻꧂

༺Serafina finds herself back in Astarion's good graces and their relationship appears to be headed to a better place. In fact, the Vampire Ascendant has something of great import to ask his consort.༻

Serafina stepped from the carriage into the blinding brilliance of the day. They'd been traveling for days, their destination unknown to her. 

Only a couple of days after the whole affair with Navril, Astarion had woken her at dawn. “Get dressed, little love, I want to take you somewhere.” 

Astarion had been affectionate and cheerful with her following that night. She’d wanted to sink into that feeling, let it wrap around her and keep her warm and safe. But the sight of Navril lying unmoving on the floor wouldn't leave her, and a part of her kept constantly waiting for the sudden shift in his moods she'd become used to. 

He'd kissed her sweetly that morning, though, tugging her out of bed with childish glee, and she’d pushed back down all her anxiety. “Where, my love?” she’d asked, playing along. 

Astarion had kissed the tip of her nose. “It's a surprise. Now get dressed and come down for breakfast.”

Breakfast. The word had set her nerves on fire. He'd expect her to eat again. 

“Hurry along,” he’d urged, kissing her once more time, before leaving her alone. 

Breakfast had turned out to be a mercifully unconscious woman, draped over the dining room table. “A murderer, I can promise your overly delicate sensibilities, my dear.” He’d guided her to sit in a chair near one of the woman’s outstretched arms. 

The kindness had seemed unusual even for the last few days. “B-but Navril…”

Astarion had made an exasperated noise. “He came to me seeking to take your place! He would have seen you dead. Think of it as attempted murder.”

She hadn’t been sure she believed any of it, but Astarion sinking down into the chair next to her and wrapping his arms around her had been enough for her to drop it. Maybe the woman really was a murderer. The unending hunger had already been making her salivate, so she’d brought the arm to her mouth and bitten down into her wrist. 

They'd left as soon as she’d finished her meal. The windows on the carriage had the shades pulled tight for the whole ride – so as not to spoil the surprise, Astarion had said. They’d traveled at a brisk pace, only stopping for a few hours at a time, to eat; mercifully, he’d allowed her to hunt animals without argument, and briefly escape the confines of the carriage. 

Although he had been completely pleasant this trip, it hadn’t stopped her from noticing the tension in him as the carriage cut across the rough roads. It had worried her to see the tightness in his shoulders and the furrow in his brow. Sitting next to him, she'd reached over to capture his hand and squeeze it gently, like she would have back in the early days of their relationship. “What troubles you, my love?”

This was right, this was how it should be. She’d comforted Astarion so many times back then; sworn to keep his heart safe. The ascension had driven a wedge between them; she couldn't lie to herself, the magnitude of it had affected his behavior in the worst way. But he was coming back to her, little by little.

Beside her, he’d frozen and she’d felt his hand grow restless in her grasp. “Nothing, darling; I just hate traveling so far from home.” 

“I think it's exciting – we haven't been this far from home since we met. It's like another little adventure together, only with less possibility of a gruesome death.”

Astarion had let out a sharp laugh, and, pulling his hand from hers, had teasingly patted her on the head. “Please, my sweet, those days were torture and I was a pathetic mess. But count on you to see some good in it. Now be a dear, and find a book to read; I've got some correspondence to attend to.”

Inwardly, she’d sighed. It was like he'd forgotten all the good about those days – and about himself. It wasn't worth pushing it though. Not when things were finally on the mend.

Thankfully, his temper had remained even throughout the remainder of the journey, until he;d finally declared their destination reached. 

Earlier that day, when they’d stopped, Astarion had given her a plain blue linen dress to change into, something like she would have worn at camp during their adventure. She’d been pleasantly surprised to see him also change into something reminiscent of that time, including a shirt so like that one she'd watched him mend over and over. 

While her eyes adjusted to the brightness that would have been lethal to any other vampires, the sound of rushing water and the aroma of a beach washed over her. In confusion and disbelief, her gaze swept over the area; the landscape before her was burned into her memories. 

“Surprised, darling?” Astarion came up behind her and looped his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. “I promise not to pull a knife on you this time.” 

A smile tugged at her lips, at the memory and at the sweetness of this surprise. “You remembered where it was perfectly.”

Releasing her, he clasped her hand instead, and began to lead her along, farther down the beach. “How could I ever forget the spot where I fell from the sky and my life started anew? The spot where I met you.”

Astarion stopped to fix her with a soft gaze; her undead heart managed to flutter in her chest.  “Astarion…” She still wasn't sure what they were doing here, but for the moment, everything seemed perfect. “This spot means the world to me as well.” 

“Of course it does, my treasure.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Now, I'm sure you're wondering why we're all the way out here. It seemed the perfect spot to start our lives anew once again.”

Astarion snapped his fingers; a servant came running from the carriage to place a box in his hand before backing away reverently. 

“Serafina, my beloved consort, it would please me greatly if you would become my wife.” He opened the box to reveal a ring bearing a heart-shaped ruby surrounded by a cluster of diamonds. The sun glinted off it blindingly. 

Truthfully, the ring was a monstrosity. But she could live with that. A small sacrifice, for the growing warmth inside her that had nothing to do with the sun. Beginning anew: something she was very familiar with. And even without Titania’s power, this time could hold as much promise as the times before. 

“My love, nothing would make me happier,” she said, leaning in for a kiss. 

Astarion gave her a quick peck and hurried to pull the ring from the box and slip it onto her finger. He brushed his lips over her knuckles before releasing her hand. “With that settled, let’s get back to civilization. This wilderness…” 

He trailed off and made a noise of disgust. 

Her heart sank a little; all that travel, and they couldn’t even stay to reminisce for a moment? But Astarion had never been fond of experiencing raw nature, and it wasn’t worth it to try and press him to stay longer and perhaps ruin this better mood of his. And so, her arm wrapped securely in his, she walked back toward the waiting carriage. 

“Perhaps we could stop in and see Halsin, since the road goes through that area,” she offered brightly, stepping into the waiting dark of the carriage. It had been so long since they’d seen any of their friends. 

Behind her, she could feel Astarion’s posture stiffen, the change in his mood tangible. “Is that really your first thought after getting engaged?” 

“Love, it’s just that - well, we haven’t had the chance since…”

“I have business to get back to, my sweet. I’m sure Halsin can be persuaded to endure the city to attend our wedding.”

She nodded, and settled in for the ride back. He was right: there was always the wedding. 

[tragedybunny]

Slow Dancing In a Burning Room - Chapter 2

༺Summary༻

In a moment of weakness, Serafina helped Astarion ascend, forever altering him and their relationship. Irrevocably bonded in violence, can she survive life at his side, or will she be broken by the cycle of pain and terror.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav)

༺Warnings༻ Dubcon / Noncon elements , violence, toxic / abusive relationships

༺Word Count༻ 2047

༺Masterlist༻

༺A/N༻ The consent is very much dubious here below, to reiterate the warning. It has been a bit of a treat to write Astarion being his worst self. I will have to take fluff breaks, so if you follow my other stuff, don't despair, more fluff will come. Thanks to @themadlu for the beta on this chapter read on AO3

꧁༺Chapter 2 - First, Thou Shall Obey Me as Thou Lovest Me ༻꧂

༺ In which Serafina learns the first of Astarion's "rules" for her existence.༻

Astarion did not set rules for her the way Cazador and Vellioth had for their Spawn. His rules were implied, unspoken commands that she would learn through trial and error. 

“Sera,” his voice was singsong, playful in a way she knew was dangerous. “Wake up, little love,” he called, from where he lay, on his side, behind her. 

Sleep was starting to release its grip on her when she felt the press of him at her entrance from behind. Then, he was plunging in, her struggling to accommodate him. A sound between a moan and a yelp escaped her as a hand tangled in her hair, yanking until her eyes opened wide. 

“Wake up, Serafina,” he hissed, thrusting his hips, the pain of it lessened by her mercifully growing wetness. 

Arching her spine, she positioned herself to give him the best angle to fill her with, and ease her own discomfort. It was something she had learned very early in her time as Consort to the Vampire Ascendant; Astarion would take his pleasure when he deigned, and she would need to make the best of it. “I am awake, my love.” She let out a breathy gasp as warm heat began to build in her core, her body responding to him as it always did, even when she wished it wouldn’t, even when she hated what he was doing to her.  

Groaning, he dug his fingers into her hip, leaving bruises that would heal fast enough. At the very least, nothing he ever did to her left a lasting mark. “It took far too long,” he snapped, thrusting into her with escalating violence. “Touch yourself,” he ordered. 

Without hesitation, her fingers found her clit, working the bundle of nerves quickly. Though she knew he cared very little for her enjoyment on days like these, it was still somehow an insult to him, if she didn’t reach climax. She offered a prayer to the gods that she could accomplish the task this morning, since something had him in a foul mood. 

Closing her eyes, she drifted far away, to a different time, to a different Astarion. Not the monster she made, but the sweet elf who had wanted something real, the one that was hidden from her so often these days. How he would hold her and touch her gently, and they would reach a bliss born of love together. 

Her breath came in little pants, she was so close. He was with her, whispering softly to her, and she was happy, safe, loved. “Ast-”

With one harsh thrust and another groan, he finished, tearing her from her beautiful dream. He pulled her hips tight to his, making sure to fill her with every drop of his seed. A mark of ownership, as her new life prevented her womb from ever carrying children. That very same dead organ had cost her the favor of her Patron.

Titania had been merciful, withholding her wrath until the Netherbrain sank beneath the Chionthar, allowing Sera to wield her warlock magic to help end the threat of the Absolute. Then, on a morning garden walk, protected from the sun as Astarion had promised, Titania appeared. A twisted reflection of their first meeting, gone was the kindly Fey who had called herself Godmother; now she appeared as the wrathful Queen of Summer burning like the sun. 

“You have betrayed our bargain, Serafina,” her golden eyes flashed and a halo of fiery red hair seemed to move with life of its own. 

Her gaze found the intricate stonework of the garden path and studied it. “Please, your Majesty, I can still be of use,” she pleaded, desperate at the thought of losing her power, and no longer being hidden from remembrance. 

“You had one use, girl, raise a house to serve me, as your ancestors served my sister. This creature that you’ve become is incapable of that. Consider yourself lucky that I merely take back what it is mine, and not hold you to the strictest terms we set. Though in a way, this is its own punishment.” 

Sera chanced a glance at the seething Queen, and swore she caught a hint of sadness in her eyes. 

“Serafina,” Astarion’s voice beckoned and she felt herself tense. She hadn’t been in the garden that long, but, in the short time since they’d moved into Cazador’s old manor, he’d become concerned with keeping her close to him as often as possible. 

“I will leave you to your paramour. We will not meet again, child.” Titania was gone in a burst of light, leaving behind the scent of wildflowers and warm forest, the scent Astarion had once said she carried. 

An emptiness crept through her veins, a hollow feeling where once her magic had dwelt. Another part of her that was gone, like her reflection or the breath in her lungs. Her legs wobbled beneath her and threatened to give out. 

“Little love,” he was closer and his tone had grown terse. He worried for her, everything had always been taken from him, and she could be too. 

“I’m here,” she called back, voice cracking. 

Then he was there beside her, as though he hadn’t been far away at all. Although she was sure he’d sounded closer to the manor. Strong arms wrapped around her and she let herself collapse into his chest, choking back her tears. 

“What is it, my darling?” He cooed at her, stroking her hair gently. “What happened?”

“Ti-Titania,” she managed, resisting the urge to sob. “She came, said our pact was over, she took my power.” 

His hands gripped her shoulder, tightening until she gasped. “Oh my sweet, silly, little Serafina. Why ever would you be concerned with losing that blasted pact?” 

“I…” She struggled to think of an answer that would explain it. These flashes of another Astarion hadn’t gone away once they were safe. More and more, he was there, the spawn she loved disappearing into him. 

“See? You can’t think of one good reason.” His lips kissed the top of her head, even as his fingers seemed to dig into her bones. “You don’t need her magic, you have me. I’ll always protect you, and you’ll want for nothing, just like I promised. Isn’t that good enough?” 

“Of course my love. It’s just…”

“Just what?” His tone turned dark. 

“It’s strange for me.” It was a mood she was learning well, one that would tolerate no argument. 

His grip relaxed and he pulled her to him again. “I suppose it is, but you’ll adapt quickly you have a talent for it. Now let’s get inside, we’ve a lot of decorating to see to and I want your opi-” He cut himself off and tilted her chin up to look into his eyes. “I know you, don’t I?”

She tried to shrink away, to find a way to deny it. But with Titania’s pact gone, the magic that had protected her was gone too. Everyone would remember her, even Astarion. “Lady Serafina Glacies. Your mother is quite infamous among the nobility, as I recall. And that night, Cazador announced your betrothal, you were terrified, poor little thing.” He chuckled. The man she loved, laughed at the worst moment of her life. “Looks like you're another thing I took from him, another thing that he was unworthy to have.” 

And here she was now, not the Summer Queen's Warlock, not the Hero of Baldur’s Gate, simply the Consort. 

“Didn't finish, love,” he clicked his tongue at her mockingly. “Poor little thing.” 

“It's fine,” something in his tone felt ominous.

“Nonsense,” his fangs nipped the back of her neck before he moved. Shoving her to her back, he kneeled between her thighs, hooking her knees over his shoulders, leaving her dreadfully exposed to him.

A finger ran along her slit, eliciting a whimper. “You know, things like waking up and finding release wouldn't be so difficult if you'd just drink sentient blood.” He began to trace rough circles around her clit, the pressure walking a line between pain and pleasure.  

“I just don't want to hurt anyone.” He'd been insistent it would solve all her problems, to just drink thinking blood once, and see what she was missing.

A snarl curled his lip upward and he glared down at her. “You know, there was a time when I would have given anything to feed as I wished.” A pale hand lashed out, wrapping around her throat, cutting off air she didn’t need, but blood she very much did. Once her instinct might have been to fight, but she had learned it only made him angrier. Instead, she fought to push down the rising panic and ignore the dizziness she knew would set in if he didn’t let go. 

His fingers continued their violent ministrations, her clit aching under his touch, and no way to escape him. Whimpers died in her closed throat, and yet she felt her body betraying her and climax building. “That was almost your fate too, in case you’ve forgotten. But look at how kind the gods were, delivering you to me instead.” 

He plunged inside her again, even as his hand remained around her throat. “If you would just stop being stubborn and listen to me,” every word was punctuated by the thrust of his hips and the throb of her tortured clit.

With shame, she felt herself clench around him, as she reached bliss in the midst of the madness. 

“Good girl,” he purred, releasing her throat, seemingly finally pleased with something about her this morning. Only for the hand still abusing her sex to suddenly pinch her sharply. “It really shouldn't have taken so much.” 

But a few more thrusts occupied him with finishing while she blinked back tears and felt the blood returning to her brain. He was still, and calm, eyes softening as he looked down at her. “Oh my sweet,” startlingly gentle fingers brushed her hair from her face. “I’m sorry, I got worked up. I only want the best for you.”

She relaxed into the touch, the soft words. This was her Astarion, the one she loved. The other she had to endure at times, but this one was hers. Turning her head, she kissed his palm as it trailed along her cheek. “I know,” she rasped, through vocal cords that would recover soon enough. 

“Shh,” he leaned down to kiss her softly enough that the fear melted away. 

Collapsing beside her, he pulled her onto his chest, where he could pet her and kiss the top of her head over and over. “Really my love, it just vexes me when you won't take care of yourself.”

“I love you,” she whispered, wanting to hold onto this moment of calm.  

“I know you do, my little treasure, my Serafina.” He squeezed her tightly and sighed happily. “I know. I just have to help you through this.”

Her stomach dropped, all the peace she'd found evaporating. “What do you mean?” 

Astarion rolled her off his chest, and sat up with a knowing smile. “You have this hesitation about eating properly. And you need help getting over it, so I'm going to help you.” 

“But Astarion…”

He cut her off with a finger against her lips and tutted. “Now, now, little love, you'll just have to wait and see. And do one little thing for me.” Astarion’s eyes began to glow red and she felt an itching in her mind. “You're not to leave our rooms until I return.” 

There was pain tearing through her heart and fresh tears pooling in her eyes. There was no choice but to listen to his command, the command of a sire to his spawn. He'd compelled her. “You said you'd never.” 

“If you were obedient. Starving yourself is not very obedient. What if you got weak and were killed and left me alone?” He stayed calm but she could hear the anger simmering beneath the surface. 

Rising from the bed, he began to dress for the day, while she lay there, still in disbelief. “When I return, we'll settle this matter.” 

He leaned over and kissed her, ignoring the tears silently falling. And then he was gone, leaving Sera to await what his idea of help would be. 

[tragedybunny]

꧁༺Slow Dancing in A Burning Room Masterlist ༻꧂

༺Summary༻

In a moment of weakness, Serafina helped Astarion ascend, forever altering him and their relationship. Irrevocably bonded in violence, can she survive life at his side, or will she be broken by the cycle of pain and terror.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav)

༺Warnings༻ Dubcon / Noncon elements, violence, toxic / abusive relationships

༺Chapter 1༻

༺Chapter 2༻

༺Chapter 3༻

༺Interlude༻

[tragedybunny]

Just got this amazing commission from @glorious-void Just Astarion, at his Dadstarion best with Serafina and their little Estelle. I love her chubby little legs! She's a perfect little babu.

[tragedybunny]

Absolution

༺Summary༻

Astarion and Serafina have an argument and Astarion does what he thinks is necessary to keep her with him. Set before his Act 2 confession.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)

༺Warnings༻ PiV sex, oral sex, all occurring while Astarion disassociates.

༺Word Count༻ 2441

༺A/N༻ Although most of my reader fics are based my Tav, Serafina, and my experience playing the game as her, this is the first fic I've written featuring her as a named character. And it's my first BG3 fic in 3rd person. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks to @satanicspinosaurus for the wonderful beta.

The scene from earlier plays over and over in his mind. 

“You don't know anything about me, Astarion! So just leave it be.” Sera, sweet, kind, gentle, patient Serafina, had yelled at him. Not once since they'd met on that beach had their erstwhile leader even raised her voice slightly at him. And today she shouted at him. All because she couldn't read Elvish and he'd reacted with the same humor she’d claimed to enjoy. Turning it on him as though he’d been the one in the wrong. 

They'd been seated around the fire while Wyll took his turn “cooking”, going through some papers and books they'd found in the wake of a goblin attack. They were looking for any clues into the cult's movements or plans. Sera had plucked a small, neatly bound journal from the pile and turned it over in her hands. It was a thing clearly well-made and cared for. She'd opened it gently, respectful of the fine binding holding it all together. 

Her brilliant blue eyes had scanned a few pages before she gave out a frustrated sigh. “Elvish,” she muttered, snapping it shut violently and thrusting it at Astarion. “You'll probably have better luck with that.”

He wasn't sure why he did it. The half-elf’s reaction was disproportionate to simply encountering a foreign language, that was obvious. Maybe it was because he’d become too used to teasing her since they’d started their “relationship.” Their easy back and forth banter giving him the foreign feeling of acceptance. 

 Or maybe it was his own way of trying to deny those irritatingly tender feelings that had started to creep in whenever he caught her glancing his way or their hands touched, or she laughed at one of his jokes. The need to push back against them, sharpening his tongue and drawing out ancient bias. 

Whatever caused it, he should’ve thought before opening his mouth. “Can’t read Espruar? Someone got forgotten by one parent. Is that why you threw a tantrum and ran-”

“Shut up!” Sera leapt up from the log she’d been seated on and glared at him. “You don’t know anything about me, Astarion! So just leave it be.” 

With that, she’d stormed off and left him silently stunned, as though awaiting a reprisal that didn’t come. Around him, their companions pretended to look away and he caught a few whispers on the air. “What are you all looking at? It’s not my fault she suddenly can’t take a joke.” He’d sulked off to his own tent, waiting until her tantrum had passed and everyone forgot his misstep. He’d assumed Sera would cool down and come out for dinner, but instead she’d remained stubbornly locked away. Karlach had brought her a bowl of what they were generously calling stew. 

Everyone had eaten and retired for the evening and she was still pouting. Which brought him to now, slinking his way across camp toward her tent. He had to do something, he couldn't watch his hard won protection slip away. It absolutely had nothing to do with the fact that Sera gave him a little kiss and wished him goodnight every other night lately and it had been noticeably withheld tonight. 

The way the moonlight filtered through the trees, one solid beam pointing down on her tent, a poet might say that Selune was guiding him. Poets were idiots. Parting the flap just the smallest amount, he starts to slip inside, intent on waking her to settle things if he needed to, when a sound stopped him. A strangled cry, was it directed at him? He froze, half inside, the errant moonbeam that slipped around him haloing her with soft illumination. 

Another wordless cry. Only a nightmare, nothing to be concerned with. Stepping in, he lets the tent shut, plunging them both back into darkness. With a predator’s stealth, he approaches her bedroll, kneeling down, eyes subconsciously glancing at the healing puncture wounds on her neck. 

“Let me out.” Her sudden words startle him. 

Stumbling backwards, he nearly loses his balance to go sprawling across the floor. His skin suddenly heated, as though the breath that carried those words could burn him. 

Another sob comes as she thrashes around a bit. “Please, I won't run,” unintelligible sounds follow the small plea. “Let me out.” 

Locked up. She'd been locked up too. Regaining himself, he crept toward her again, as she shook and cried. Someone had hurt her. But who would want to do that?

She was Sera, unfailingly kind; who aided refugees, saved children, fought monsters, and foolishly fed manipulative vampires.  

The sobbing becomes frantic and without thinking he reaches out to gently grasp her shoulder. “Sera,” she struggles against his touch with a whimper. Growling in frustration, he shakes her a little more roughly. “Serafina!” 

Eyes snap open to behold him with wide pupils as her chest heaves. “A-Astarion?” Sitting quickly, she pulls away from him, and he feels a sudden sting in his chest. “What are you doing here?” She hisses, apparently still angry with him. 

“You were having a nightmare.” He replies, trying to soften his voice, to be the lover she had come to expect. 

“Hmm,” her eyes focus across the tent to an empty lantern, “fiat lux.” Small little motes of light appear in the lantern, swirling gently in their prison, as Sera draws her knees up to her chest. “Well, I'm awake now, you can go.”

The forlorn gaze and empty voice were nothing like the Serafina he'd come to know and the unsettled sensation in the back of his mind grows. He cleares his throat, trying to get the words moving. “I didn’t come just to wake you up, I wanted to…apologize. For earlier. I’m sorry, the joke was in poor taste.” 

Turning her head, she glances his way from where it rested on her knees. She looks so small like this, so far from the fierce woman who’d led them from the moment of the crash. “Apology accepted, I probably took it too personally.” 

It didn’t quite ring true, but he plows on anyway, hoping maybe those blue eyes would light back up for him. “The truth is, I’m actually a bit rusty with Espruar myself. But maybe I could teach you and it would be good practice for me.” He affects the warmest smile he could, sure the gesture would win her over.

Instead, she shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t actually matter all that much. Thanks for the thought though. You can go, I’m not still mad at you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

That was not his Serafina. He has to do something, to fix this. To keep her on his side. Reaching out, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her into his lap, lips closing over hers. “What’s this about?” She huffs as her skin began to flush a pretty pink. 

“Pleading my apology some more,” his voice drops to the low sultry tone that made her pulse jump in a way he could hear. 

“I said you were forgiven.” Despite her protest, her arms encircle his neck, pulling him closer. 

“Your words said that, but your eyes spoke differently.” His lips trace a line of kisses from her lips to the lobe of her ear, making her sigh. 

This was what he could do for her, what he did best. It was a skill honed by two hundred years of unwilling practice, and like so many before, a skill she was willing to make use of. At least it was easy enough with Sera, she was sweet and gentle, and he knew she'd never harm him. And it wasn't as though a part of him didn't want her, she was a pretty little thing. That part was just bound up with all the other parts that hated what his body had been used for. If he had to open his pants for anyone, he supposes he was glad it was her. 

“I meant it, but- gods Astarion!” He runs his tongue along the point of her ear, less sensitive than his, but still enough to start driving her mad. 

“In that case, we'll call it making up for my behavior earlier.” Guiding her to face him, legs straddling his, her warm core settles against his hips. He kisses his way back down to her throat, already feeling his mind growing distant from his actions. 

Lips linger near the marks on her neck, and she squirms in his lap. “Do you want to?” 

He could never say no to that offer. Without hesitation, his fangs sink into her flesh, and succulent liquid pours into his throat. It adds to what little pleasure he’s able to wring from what he was about to do. Sera whimpers and writhes in his lap, grinding down on his growing erection. She hadn’t started out allowing him to feed on her as some form of pleasure, but she had given him her neck as often as the rest of her body, and the two had become inextricably tied together. 

Just a sip for tonight, after everything that had happened, he couldn’t ask too much. Too soon he pulls his fangs away to lap at the remainders and kiss the wounds. Blood and a distant mind, this was good as it would be for him. “Let's get this out of the way.” Fingers grip the hem of her shirt and guide it over her head. 

She shivers as the night air caresses her skin and leans into him. It was almost enough to make him laugh, there was nothing about him that could provide any warmth. Instead he continues kissing his way down her chest, nipping lightly until her back arches into him and she makes a needy noise. 

“Patience,” he chides her, releasing his grip on her to remove his own shirt. 

Hands encircle her waist in an iron grip, holding her firmly in place while tongue and teeth tease her rosebud nipples. Fingers trace his back as she pants, trying to contain all the noises that could wake the camp. Her nails ghost along his flesh, and he senses she longs to dig them in.. She hadn’t even attempted to ask about it. Why did she afford him such gentleness, was she wary that it would be too much on his scarred flesh?

Lips leave off her hardened peaks to capture hers again, and she grinds against him even harder. No doubt her small clothes were soaked. “You drive me mad,” she whispers, lost in desire. 

Just as he’d wanted, Serafina, hurt feelings and nightmares forgotten. “You enjoy it.” He captured her lip between his teeth for a second and nibbles. “Stand up, take your pants off for me.” He awaits her on his knees, as a penitent seeking their absolution. 

She’s so occupied, she doesn’t notice as his gaze finds the dancing lights in the lantern, and watches them swirl aimlessly until she’s naked before him. Gripping her thighs, he pulls her in, holding them apart so his tongue can swipe along her sex, as soaked as he predicted. Sera’s not a bard, but she sings for him anyway. Fingers grip into his curls, not too tightly. Sometimes he wishes she wouldn’t be so damn gentle, that she'd be like everyone else, someone easy to use, instead of, whatever all this was. 

“Astarion,” she keens as he slips two fingers inside her, tongue running over her clit. 

He laps and suckles at it almost as fiercely as he does the wounds he leaves in her neck. The fingers inside her find the spot that causes her knees to buckle and another cry to leave her. She’s close, just a little more, and he could leave it for the night.  

“I want you inside me.” He stiffens, inhaling deeply. 

“Do you now, my sweet?” He nips her thigh playfully with his fangs while his stomach drops. “Then come down here.” 

As soon she hits her knees, he's positioning her on all fours, he can’t look her in the eyes right now. He tears his pants open, eyes finding the lights again, concentrating on them as he pushes inside her. She’s warm and wet as she pushes back against him, eager to have all of him. Because she chooses him. No matter how many of his rough edges and dark corners she finds, she wants him. Would she still want him if she saw it all?

Forget it, he tells himself, pushing that thought away. He clears his mind until there’s only the moment, the sensation left, hips slapping against hers, the way her body clenches around his cock, how she eagerly sucks the fingers he puts in her mouth so she has something to absorb the moans. 

It’s almost enough to completely lose himself, his cock twitches. It’s spectacular, the way she meets every thrust and takes everything he has to give. “Touch yourself,” he urges, eager for her to come undone. 

Her own fingers slide between her folds, working feverishly. It’s not long before the noises muffled by his fingers become frantic and she tightens around him. 

“That’s it, my darling, let go.” With another deep thrust, he allows himself a release. “Sera,” he gasps, knowing it will please her to hear her name on his lips. 

They collapse next to one another on the bedroll, Sera quick to snuggle up in his arms. It takes longer than it should to embrace her, his body wanting to run. “Is everything alright?” She asks, innocently, from where she lays, head on his chest. Maybe there are merciful gods, she can’t see his face. 

“Of course, love. I think I may have worn myself out after all the walking today.” Softly, he kisses her head, he can’t let her suspect. 

“Well don’t complain tomorrow, Lae’zel will blame me for sure. I don’t think I was very discreet.” She laughs, sounding like sleep is already returning to her. 

“But you are to blame. If you weren’t so irresistible.” He tries to laugh as well. This stupid, sweet girl, why does she lay in a monster’s arms and giggle? 

With a yawn, she gives him an out. “You should probably go, I’m going to fall asleep soon and don’t want to trap you here.” 

One more kiss, even as his mind insists on fleeing. “Goodnight my love, rest well, and I’m sorry again.”

“For what?”

“For earlier.” For everything. 

Tag list:

@micropoe10  @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

@darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved

@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @volotramp @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblog @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary

[tragedybunny]

A Little Visitor

༺Summary༻

It started as a typical evening for Serafina and Astarion on their journey throughout Faerûn. Tonight, though, Serafina is surprised by a furry little visitor to their camp, who might be more than he seems.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)

༺Warnings / Tags༻ No warnings, just fluffy fun!

༺Word Count༻ 1691

༺A/N༻

The is for the lovely @icybluepenguin, thank you for the gift my dear. I treasure him and you.

Edited by @grandmother-goblin, thanks again for the work on it.

Read on AO3

A vampire spawn, when not half-starved, can have a number of incredible abilities. In their time traveling together, Astarion has grown stronger and discovered some of these abilities for himself. The problem, Serafina has observed, was that without another vampire to teach him about those abilities, they tended to be discovered by accident. 

Such as the spider-climb incident. A couple of thieves had tried to rob the inn that her and Astarion were staying in, cornering them across the room from the exit. Astarion had backed up to take a better shot at one of the bastards and had simply walked up a wall without thinking. When the fight was over, he had attempted to get back down and ended up falling in a very undignified heap on the floor. Sera’s attempt to coddle him and soothe his ego was undermined by giggles she kept choking back. The whole incident ended with him pouting until he received enough kisses and compliments to forgive her. 

There were other little surprises that came to them as well. Astarion healing faster than he could realize that he was hurt, or moving at speeds that she couldn’t track. Every new facet left him radiantly happy. Until now, his vampiric body had been nothing but a source of misery; years of torture, a whole life lost to the darkness, and not even a sense of what he looked like. But now, he was free. His body was his own, and he could take pride in the things it was capable of. 

The only downside Sera had found was the emergence of a fiercely protective streak. One that occasionally caused him to treat her like she was made of glass — including jumping in front of her when he perceived danger. Such instances usually ended with one of her eldritch blasts in his back and a discussion about her being a very capable warlock who saved the world, in case he had forgotten. 

She wouldn’t change a thing about him. Impulsive, sharp-tongued, and macabre as he could be, he was also loving, brave, and so much fun. Even if he was not particularly good at more domestic tasks, as the laundry she was hauling up from the river could attest. If it was up to him, laundry day was always tomorrow. So, she’d taken the last of the daylight while he tranced to catch up a bit. Unfortunately, it was going to have to dry by firelight, one of many small adjustments she'd made for a more nocturnal life. 

Astarion was worth all of them, though. 

Plopping the basket near the fire, she began to hang the wet items on the laundry line that was set earlier. The sky had gone full dark and it seemed a little strange that Astarion hadn’t wandered out of the tent yet. Hanging the last of the clothes, she poked her head into the tent with a little apprehension. Astarion still had the occasional nightmare or moment of panic, the horrors he had endured crawling out from the crevices of his mind to torment him and he would sometimes try to endure those alone. It wouldn’t surprise her to find him curled up in bed working through one. 

Instead, emptiness greeted her. 

“Astarion,” she called, perplexed, stepping inside the tent. 

It wasn’t like him to just wander off without telling her; even his nightly hunts were announced. Sera felt her pulse rise but told herself he’d seen her note and just went in search of a quick bite. She’d head back to the fire and give it a few minutes before worrying. As she turned to go, something caught her eye. Eldritch power crackled in her fingertips as a shape hurtled toward her from the depths of the tent. 

Just before she released a blast of magical energy, the shape became clear: a small white bat. Dismissing the spell, she stood still, flustered as the creature didn't slow. Finally, the little bat smacked into her chest, chittering loudly. 

Cautiously, her hands cupped him, wary of the small teeth in his mouth. His wild noises stopped, and he seemed to sulk in her hands. She had to be reading too much into what looked like a pout on his face. “Are you hurt, little guy? What are you doing in my tent?” 

The bat in her hands flapped his wings and squeaked before deflating again. 

“You must be hurt. Let’s see what we can do for you.” Gently, still wary he could bite down at any moment, Sera looked around for some place comfortable to place him before giving in and just lowering him onto her pillow. “I don’t suppose you’d let me look you over?” 

Settling onto the bed next to the little creature, she gently picked up a wing, which he snatched back. “Oh come on, I need to see what’s wrong with you. Too bad Halsin isn’t here.” The bat suddenly hissed, and she glanced down at him with worry. “Maybe Astarion can help me when he gets back.” A flurry of noises followed her words, and she laughed. “Oh, you like the sound of his name. It is a lovely name, isn’t it? Well, he’s lovely overall.” 

The bat wiggled excitedly, like he was trying to fly but couldn’t quite do it. 

“Poor thing. Promise not to bite me?” That time he definitely chittered in response, and Sera stared at it curiously. Could there be more to this small bat than she’d thought? Picking up the pillow, she placed him in her lap and cautiously stroked his soft fur. 

She hadn’t ever touched a bat before, but its fur was silkier than she would have thought, and it seemed to relax beneath her fingertips. “You’ll like Astarion,” she started, talking idly while she continued to pet him. “He’s a creature of the night like you.” 

He made another little noise. 

“You seem very interested in my… partner. I suppose that’s the best word for him. It doesn’t really quite do it justice, though. Hmm. Beloved. That’s a weird way to introduce someone, though.” 

Her new friend had relaxed under the motion of her fingers. 

“Can I look you over now?” she asked, lifting a wing to no resistance. Gently, she inspected both wings and his back. “I have to pick you up now, to see the rest of you.” 

With a soft squeak, he gave in. Sera carefully looked over his ears, and flipped him upside down to inspect his stomach before setting him back down. 

“I’m sorry, little guy, I can’t seem to see what’s wrong with you.” She went back to petting him. “Maybe once Astarion is back we can look for some local druids. I hope he’s alright, he doesn’t usually disappear on me. Maybe I should go look for him, in case something is wrong. I don’t know what I’d ever do without him.”

“I’ve never loved anyone like I love him. Even if he was a pain when we first met.” There was an almost indignant sounding squeak from the bat and Sera froze. “And he can be so very vain sometimes.” 

The bat exploded into noises, flapping its wings.

“Gods above, it can’t be.” She looked down and found red eyes looking back at her with a definite bit of embarrassment. “Astarion?” 

“SQUEAK.” Came the answer. 

Picking him up, she held him in front of her face staring at him. The little rascal’s tongue lapped out and licked her nose. “How did you even manage this? And how do I get you back.” 

The bat, Astarion, answered with a sad chirp and tried again to fly, this time managing to get himself airborne before crashing back down to the pillow waiting in her lap. “Love, what am I going to do with you?” 

Astarion hissed and let his little head fall onto the pillow. 

“I suppose this isn’t fun for you either at this point. What if you concentrated on it? Or didn’t concentrate? Or maybe sleep?” Each question was followed by noises that would have assuredly been not very nice words. 

“Well if you’re going to be rude — ” she set the pillow down on the bed “ — figure it out yourself. I need to make sure the laundry hasn’t been stolen by wildlife.” 

She'd barely stood when he began wildly flapping, attempting to get to her. Sighing, sure turned back, only to catch him for the second time that night, and have him excitedly lap at her hands. “Fine, I know you're sorry.” 

“We'll get this fixed, but you had better stay in here. I don't think you can get away from a predator right now.” 

Astarion hissed as she carried him back to the pillow, wings fluttering still.

“I'm sure you'll figure out the flying bit.” 

He had stilled in her hands and looked defeated. 

Sera’s heart ached for her love, trapped in a form he couldn't control. “It will be alright, I promise.” 

 Bringing him close, she gently kissed his little bat snout. 

Something in the air shifted and Sera sensed a change causing her to let go of Astarion. The small form was engulfed in shadow and a weight hit the mattress. “Hells!”

“Astarion,” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and feeling his arms around waist. “Gods, you had me worried.” 

Pulling her close, he nuzzled into her stomach, chuckling softly. “So little confidence in me darling?”

“Forgive me for being scared my partner would be a bat forever, even if it would give me a lot more peace and quiet.” 

“Is that how you feel?” The only warning she had was the tightening of his arms around her waist. “You’re so cruel to me.” She yelped as Astarion pulled her down to the mattress, and snuggled against her. “Though I suppose this wasn't my finest display of power.”

Her fingers pulled through his silver curls and she kissed the top of his head. “You'll be perfect at it in no time, my love.” 

Astarion hummed happily and kissed the hollow of her throat. “At least I'll have you to pet and pamper me if I get stuck again.” 

tag list:

@micropoe10  @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin 

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

@satanicspinosaurus @darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved

@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblog @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary @talented-bitch @waking-electric @snowfolly

[tragedybunny]

To Make You Feel My Love - Chapter 1 of 3

༺Summary༻

Astarion and Serafina continue to pursue their relationship as the confrontation with Cazador looms, and then during the fallout afterward. A couple of chapters that explore their deepening bond and their struggle to build "something real".

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)

༺Warnings༻ Angst, Hurt / Comfort, Attempted Sex

༺Word Count༻ 2776

༺A/N༻ Another fic featuring my Tav as a name character! Very excited to share more of Serafina. Thanks to my lovely friend @icybluepenguin for the beta and support!

Read on AO3

Astarion was a wretch, and he knew it. He was finicky, selfish, obnoxious, and difficult. But he also knew so much of that was because of life under Cazador. It was who he was outside of that life that he didn't know. He wasn't sure how to find out, either, or how much he wanted to. 

He’d expected it to be asked of him though, that eventually he should find a way to make himself more palatable. Serafina never did though. Sometimes it stuck in his throat like bile how kind she was to him. She never asked anything of him, only gave and gave, while he took and took, with gentle words and warm smiles until sometimes he worried there would be nothing left of her. 

It drove him mad, for several reasons. First, he was convinced that one day that fount of affection and understanding would run dry. She couldn’t love him as he was forever. Then there was the sensation that he somehow needed to repay it, even if it was never asked of him. Maybe it would balance the scales, maybe it would keep her from tiring of him. No matter what she claimed, she must expect something of him. Finally, and most strangely for him, he wanted to repay it. Didn’t she deserve it, after everything? And she most assuredly needed it. 

Despite her protests that everything was always fine and that she didn’t need anything extra, he knew different. It was ridiculous. He’d seen her going through days with tired eyes, giving smiles that only lasted as long as they needed to, and the way her shoulders would slump when things would upset her, but she wouldn’t say anything. 

Like earlier today, when he’d opened his mouth and ruined everything again.

Flowers. That’s how it had all started. They’d passed through a garden in full bloom, and words had tumbled out of him before he could think. 

“Bright and gaudy.”Inane prattle, complaining about something that had no effect on him simply because he could. He just had to lash out at something.

Cazador was looming over him, the plan already in place to take the fight to him sooner rather than later. His siblings' surprise visit the night before had spurred that decision. Fear gnawed its way into his mind, biting and clawing, ripping away the fragile sense of safety and comfort he'd built.

That didn't change the fact that when Karlach's elbow had collided with his ribs, he'd looked over to see Sera's shoulders drooping and her mood soured. How could he forget about one of the few things she’d let slip about her home. She couldn't reveal much about her past thanks to that pesky warlock pact, but there had been a garden of some sort. And he'd managed to shit on what she had. He was already terrified and he felt himself spiraling back into the thought that he didn’t know why she bothered with him. 

“What should I do?” he whispered desperately to Karlach.

She shrugged. “I don’t know, buy her flowers or something?” 

Which is how he’d ended up here. Everyone had made their way back to the Elfsong  but Astarion had excused himself with a hasty lie about needing to think. Sera’s brow had crinkled in concern for him and he felt a twinge of guilt when he pulled her close and gave her a quick kiss. He’d make it up later, or he planned to anyway. 

But now he was stuck, wandering around this shop that was an overwhelming riot of color and scents. Something about cut flowers didn't seem to fit, and he'd been paralyzed in front of the rows and rows  of them for minutes. They looked nice enough, but they wouldn't last. His gaze wandered to the other side of the shop through the crowd. Maybe a potted plant…?

“Can I help you?” A bubbly elf with blonde hair and tan skin appeared beside him. 

Her gold eyes looked up at him with such sincerity, he almost sneered. As if this shop contained some life changing secrets and not flowers.

“I…” He cleared his throat- he was not lost, just thinking. “I’m looking for something for my partner. Something that will last longer than flowers in a vase.” There, that wasn’t so bad, he could do this. 

“Of course, let me show you our selection of potted plants,” she said, gesturing enthusiastically. “Can you tell me a bit about them?”

“She, well, she… ” Why was this so hard? He felt so much for her, but speaking of her made him feel awkward and inadequate. She was the first warm light of morning washing over him and a comforting touch in the night. She was a hasty kiss after a hard won fight, and lighthearted laughter around the campfire. “She’s…”

“Newer relationship?” the elf said with a light giggle that made him want to reach for a dagger. The insinuation that he knew nothing about Sera was clear. 

“What does it matter anyway,” he hissed, drawing looks from the other patrons. 

The girl was thrown off balance by his sudden aggression and her gleaming smile faltered. “It might help to pick out something she’d like, but you’re free to browse for a while.” Turning away, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving him to fend for himself.

He almost went after her, but stubborn pride rooted him to the spot. With resolve, he eyed the shelves in front of him. Rows of bright-colored, glazed pots gleamed in the sunlight streaming in from the large shop window. Inside each one, a scrap of greenery he knew nothing about. Many had small blooms, some sported colorful leaves, and none of them were the right thing.

He began to sink into despair. This whole thing had been a stupid, impetuous idea. “Buy her flowers.” Apparently he couldn't even figure out the most basic of gifts for her. He'd just head back to the Elfsong, empty-handed, another day the scales between them were left uneven. If he just left now, it would be less time wasted. 

Just as he turned to go, it caught his eye. A delicate plant in a pot glazed in the colors of twilight, with a few small, blue blossoms. He stepped closer, drawn to it. The rich blue was the same color as Sera's eyes, he was sure of it. But it was tiny, like it would hardly survive the trip across town if the wind picked up. 

“Find something?” The irritating clerk was back, somehow having snuck up on him.

“That one,” he pointed. 

“Oh, the little forget-me-not!” 

Astarion cringed at the name as she reached for it. 

“Do you know the origin of it?” 

Of course not. It was a flower and before now, he wasn't exactly able to frolic in the sun and enjoy them. And it wasn’t like they were part of Cazador’s decor scheme. 

“No,” he said through gritted teeth, sure he was about to hear it. He should have just stolen it. 

“Humans didn’t come into being until long after elves. During those times, elves only coupled with one another, only knew lovers that would live as long as they did. But, eventually, an elven man met a human woman, and they fell deeply in love. The elf stayed by her side, even as she grew old and died, having only lived a fraction of his life. He buried her in winter and when he returned to her grave in the spring, he found these beautiful blue flowers had grown up over it. They were nothing like anything that anyone had ever seen before. They spread from her grave throughout the land, so that wherever he went, he was reminded of her. In that way, they earned the name forget-me-not. What a beautiful tragedy- a love so true, but one will live without the other for so long.” She sighed dreamily after she finished. 

Astarion swallowed the lump in his throat. “Right, well, that's lovely and all, but I have somewhere to be.” 

The elf huffed and silently led him back to the counter. He'd pay double if it meant she'd let him go without more chatter. 

“Oh, one more thing,” she said, taking his money, “this can be planted outdoors. Perhaps if you and your lady love have a place of your own someday.” 

Those words swirled around and around in Astarion’s mind as he gingerly carried the little plant back through the streets to the Elfsong. “A place of their own.” As if that was something he could even begin to aspire to. But why not? Why couldn’t he and Sera have a home of their own, and a  happy, beautiful life? Because that wasn’t him. Who would want a vampire for a neighbor? And why would she want a lifetime with one?

He took a deep breath and tried to silence those thoughts. Sera loved him. He knew that was true, even when it was hard to remember. He just had to keep it that way. His eyes glanced down to the plant nestled in his hands. It seemed a silly gesture in that light, a plant in exchange for her love. The whole thing was a bad idea. 

He should have done better. 

When he finally made it back, the rest of the group was eating dinner in the raucous common room of the inn. He’d never admit it, but sometimes he missed the quiet nights under the stars. For two hundred years, he’d known this type of hustle and bustle; its opposite had grown on him. Not to mention, it had given the two of them so many calm nights to get to know each other. A thought that caused his chest to tighten; he’d thrown so many of those nights away with his “perfect plan”, time he’d never get back. 

Cutting through the fringes of the room, he avoided the group, not wanting a public display of what was likely the most ridiculous gift he could have thought of. Natural stealth let him blend into the crowd and slink his way to the stairs. Bad luck put Jahiera right in front of him. 

“Bat pup, what are you up to, creeping around like this?” From her tone, Jahiera was only really half suspicious. 

“I…”  He glanced down at the plant his hands were protectively wrapped around. 

Jahiera’s gaze followed his. “I never took you as one for greenery, Astarion.” 

“It’s not for me, ” he blurted, cringing inwardly. What if she told someone? All of them? Would they get a laugh out of the vampire trying to play the lover?  

She lifted an eyebrow and smiled a small, knowing smile. “I see. Should I let her know you’re waiting upstairs?” 

For some reason lately, Jaheira had started to behave with the infuriating air of someone older, and wiser around him, despite the fact that  he had years on her. It was almost maternal in a way, and usually grated on him to no end. But today, he was quietly relieved to have her step in.

 “If you must interject yourself.” He shrugged, struggling to put the mask of calm indifference back on. 

“I think I will let the attitude slide for tonight, Astarion. Mayhaps tomorrow I will box your ears for it.” 

He opened his mouth  to snap back at her but she cut him off. 

“And I’ll expect a thank-you when it’s all said and done.” 

“Yes, Mother,” he sighed dramatically and began to walk away. 

As soon as he was sure he was out of sight, he hurried his pace, not wanting to be caught out in the hallway when Sera came upstairs. With the door to the common room shut behind him, he took up position in their shared corner. Two beds and a folding screen, the most privacy they could manage right now. Another reason to miss the outdoors. Even if sleeping on the ground had been hellishly uncomfortable, the tent had walls at least. 

It always struck him to see Sera’s things mixed in with his. A physical reminder that she had chosen this, him, even after his confession. And it gave him hope that she would keep choosing that way. 

“Astarion, you wanted to see me?” Her voice interrupted his thoughts from across the room. 

“Yes, darling, sorry to disturb your evening.” Perfect, just keep going, don’t screw this up. 

The distance between them evaporated and she was standing right in front of him, waiting for him to continue. He kept his arms behind his back, keeping the plant hidden, still doubting it. 

“I just wanted to apologize, for earlier today.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to. You didn’t realize-” 

“No,” he spat out more harshly than he intended and watched her eyes widen for a moment. Gods, why did he always lose his silver tongue where she was concerned. “Please don’t do that,” he softened his voice. “You’re always worried about my words when it comes to our companions, random strangers, and even my siblings. Don’t dismiss your own feelings so easily, hold me accountable for them, like anyone else’s.” Don’t make yourself tired of me, he added silently. 

“With everything going on, I just didn’t want to make things harder for you. But, thank you.” 

“See, that’s better, isn’t it?” He smiled, recovery made, things were going well. 

“So, what’s behind your back?” She craned her neck, trying to peek around him playfully. 

No avoiding it now. “I wanted to get you something to make up for it. It seems a bit foolish really.” Hesitantly, he presented the little plant to her. 

She took it from his hands with reverence. “Forget-me-nots,” she beamed at the small flowers that matched the color of her eyes. “They’re beautiful. Thank you, Astarion, I love it.” 

A small, awkward laugh escaped him. “Well, that’s quite a relief.”

And then she was moving, placing the plant on the table near their bed, before practically lunging at Astarion. The sudden force of her embrace knocked him from his feet and they collapsed back onto the mattress in a heap. 

“Sorry,” Sera said through a soft laugh before kissing him. “You're wonderful, you know that?”

“I mean, I do, but I could stand to hear it more.” 

“How about I show you instead?” She leaned in, kissing him again, lips parting tantalizingly. 

He wanted to devour her, to pull her in tight and taste every bit of her. His tongue darted inside her mouth, eliciting a soft moan. 

Ice ran up his spine, and he felt himself go rigid.

She pulled back and looked at him with concern. “Is it too much?” 

The hells take his traitorous body. “No, I-I want to try. Please.” He bit back a growl of frustration. It killed him to want her this bad and to have the only thing stopping him be himself.

“Alright.” 

She'd barely answered before he was pushing her back to the mattress by her shoulders and crawling between her legs.

He covered the exposed flesh of her neck with soft nips, fangs barely raking the skin. One hand found its way under her shirt, groping at her pebbled nipple. 

Whimpering, her hips bucked against his, the sweetest pressure on his hardening cock. He groaned against her skin, both hands now pushing her shirt up, exploring her soft curves. 

Head tilted to the side, she offered without words that delicious nectar he could never resist. Fangs burrowed into their favored spot and bliss filled his mouth.  

Fingers tangled into his curls as he rutted against her. Her tongue lapped at the shell of his ear before she moaned his name.  She was lost in him. Like a thousand others before her…

He froze, the world around him going hazy. 

“Astarion,” she called to him softly.

“I can't,” he gasped, hot shame washing over him. Sera wasn't just another one of them, it shouldn't be like this. “I'm sorry.”

Gentle hands guided him to the mattress, arms enfolding him, so his head was buried in her neck. “Hush,” she kissed his forehead. 

Neither said anything further about it, there wasn't need. He knew she didn't expect it of him, and she knew he had needed to try.  

“Drink if you want,” she whispered, stroking his hair. 

Gods, he loved her, even if he wasn't sure he'd ever told her properly how much. He bit back into the open wounds and drank lazily, eyes drifting to the bedside table and the little plant. Maybe there would be a someday with a place it could bloom outside, a place they both called home. 

Tag list:

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 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin 

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[tragedybunny]

Commission by the wonderful @iizuumi of Astarion and Serafina. It turned out just perfect, thank you.

[tragedybunny]

Love Her Like She Needs

༺Summary༻

Serafina gets worked up and needs to be calmed down. Astarion is always happy to help his love in any way he can.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)

༺Warnings༻ PiV sex, domestic discipline, spanking / impact play, bondage, gag use

༺Word Count༻ 2139

༺A/N༻ This is just self-indulgent porn. I don't even know if it's any good. Also, another fic featuring my Tav as a named character, yay!

Rain battered the tent, accented by periodic lightning strikes and peals of thunder, trapping Astarion and Serafina for the day. Mercifully, the enchanted tent was larger than it should be by looking at it, giving them plenty of space. Despite that, he could feel Sera growing more tense as their sunless traveling hours wasted away. None of their leads on ways for him to walk in the sun had paid off and it was starting to wear on her. It was a habit he’d once mocked, then gently chided her for, and these days did his best to keep her from engaging in it, the habit taking all responsibility on herself and worrying endlessly over it. She was itching to move on, next city, next possible item Gale had found in his research. 

She sighed from her spot on the mattress next to him, letting her book drop to the floor of the tent. “Gods, I’m bored.” She whined, something Sera only did when she was in a certain mind state, when things were building up, threatening to overwhelm her, and she just wanted to let go. “Astarion,” she jabbed him with her finger, demanding he turn his attention from his own book. 

“You’ll have to entertain yourself, darling.” He said as a warning and an invitation. Earlier, while still half-asleep, she’d pulled him into her arms and told him to drink from her since the weather had turned. Full of her blood and vitality, his body was already responding to the unspoken plea. If she needed to play, he would oblige. 

“Not if I make you entertain me.” She snatched his book out of his hand with a mischievous laugh. 

She was absolutely asking for it. Astarion sighed with feigned irritation, pulling his book back and setting it down next to him. “You’re being an absolute brat.” She smirked at him in answer, daring him to do something about it. “If you need to be entertained, I suppose I’ll indulge you.” She opened her mouth, no doubt about to declare victory, but he cut her off. “Bring me your hairbrush.” A special treat, he’d never used her own hairbrush on her. 

“No, wait, I’m sorry.” The turn of attitude was impressive, but all part of the game. 

“Oh no, my dear, sweet Serafina, it’s far too late for apologies. Hairbrush, now.” He sat up, putting his legs over the edge of the bed, a perfect spot for her to lay in. 

She whimpered as she went to fetch it, making a great show of sudden remorse. Sera’s hairbrush was thick, silver plated, and wide. It was going to do wonders on her pale little bottom. Delightfully, she hadn’t gotten dressed that morning, remaining in her nightgown and a pair of thin underwear. As much as she needed the play between them, he enjoyed it, her sweet submission, the trust she placed in him, the control he had. 

With the brush gleaming in the lantern lights, she stood in front of him, already nearly in tears. Theatrics, he could smell her arousal mixed with anticipation. He took it from her hand and patted his thigh. “Come on, over the knee, little love.”

“But Astarion…” She wheedled. 

“You know you were asking for it,” he said, voice stern. “Pull your nightgown up too.”

Without further protest, she lay down across his thighs, bottom presented to him. “Good girl.” Reaching for the waistband of her underwear, he pulled them down, finding them already soaked, and she began to whimper. They wouldn’t have been much protection, but removing them was just the extra touch to deepen the act. Meticulously, he positioned them around her thighs, her perfect pale skin just waiting for the brush. “Count them and don’t lose track.” 

Waiting, he let her anticipation build, watching her try to not shift around too much. The first strike landed, reddening her skin instantly, leaving her yelping. “One,” she managed with shaky breath.

“That’s very good.” Before the praise could sink in, he landed another blow she dutifully counted, both cheeks a blooming color. 

The third took her from gasping to sobbing and she stuttered out her count through tears. Quicker than he had thought, perhaps he should go easy on her. They had agreements in place, to play certain roles to the fullest, and ways either of them could stop, but pushing too far didn’t feel right today. Besides, there were other ways to give her what she craved. 

Quickening the pace, he delivered the rest of the spankings in sharp succession, barely enough space for Sera to catch her breath between them, counting despite her cries as they landed. 

“Nine,” she whimpered on the tenth one, and Astarion cleared his throat. “T-ten,” she corrected quickly, was rewarded with a hand stroking her hair. 

“Very good, pet,” he praised. “You took your punishment so well.” His hand traveled down her back, rubbing small circles, a short reprieve. 

He finished pulling her panties off while she sniffled through more apologies, the most delightful idea playing in his mind. “On your knees on the mattress.” 

“Yes, sir,” she squeaked, and he felt his cock stir at the term. 

As soon as she had settled, he pulled her nightgown over her head with no explanation, leaving her shivering with expectation. Humming idly, he found the trunk that contained some of their favorite amusements, thank the gods for the magic that allowed them to carry all this. Loudly searching through it, building the tension in her, he found what he was looking for, a gag and some silken cord. 

Walking back toward her, he stood silently for a moment before issuing another command. “Mouth open.” 

“But why,” she protested and then inhaled sharply, worrying about another punishment. 

“Because you need something constructive to occupy your time and furniture doesn’t talk.” Her shoulders slumped in defeat at his words. 

Gently, he placed the bit in her mouth, and tightened the strap, feeling his own arousal growing.  “Very good,” he praised, knowing she’d crave it. “Now hold out your arms in front of you and face me.” 

Tears dotted her face still, and drool already ran from where the gag held her mouth open. She was gorgeously ruined, all for him.  He could lose himself just looking at her, but that would ruin the fun. Pressing her wrists together, he wrapped the silken cord around them, securely binding them in position. “Perfect, stay right there.” 

He watched her puzzled expression as he stripped himself and lay back on the mattress, propped up by a stack of pillows, cock visibly growing hard. Palming himself, he let out a sigh, stiffening further, ready for her. “Come here and sit on my cock love, I have something to keep you busy with.” 

Gripping her hips, he helped guide her to straddling him. The moist heat of her already starting to tempt, but he couldn’t let the fun end so soon. Positioning her just right, he coaxed her down to impale herself on him. 

He almost let out a groan as she settled into place, so wet and warm as she clenched around him. “Now I want you to stay perfectly still,” he balanced his book on her outstretched, bound arms, “and hold my book for me. If you behave yourself for long enough, I’ll release you. Understood.” 

Sera nodded quickly, eager to appease him. But he had no intention of making it that easy. His eyes skimmed a page, never intending to read it. Reaching out to flip to the next, he slipped his fingers under the cover, rubbing against her nipple, making her whine softly. “Sensitive today, aren’t we?” 

Her eyes widened at his words, realizing he wasn’t going to be fair. He would leave her waiting for the worst, though. Relaxing, he lay back, pretending to read again, really admiring the woman straddling his hips, bound and stuffed full of him. His partner, the love of his life. A few minutes later, he reached forward again, delving under the cover of the book to give her nipple a proper squeeze. Reflexively, she rolled her hips, rutting against him. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “I said to stay perfectly still, pet.” 

His hand slapped down on her already reddened bottom, and she made a noise around the gag. His cock twitched with all the motion. Gods, it was so tempting to just roll her over and fuck her mercilessly. “Now, try again.” 

He leaned back, once again feigning reading, his cock throbbing inside her. The wait was torture for him as well, laying there with a placid face as he listened to her ragged breathing and felt her wetness dripping out around his cock to slick his pelvis. Idly, his fingers began to stroke her thigh, feeling her tense as she tried to not move. Nails gently raked along her soft skin as his fingers wandered closer to her sex.

Her thighs tightened around his hips, and he watched in delight as her eyes grew wide. One finger gently slid past her folds to stroke where she was most sensitive. Beautiful little panting sounds answered his action. He couldn’t resist grinning up at her as a second finger was added, increasing the pressure on her clit. 

Despite the way her cunt clenched around him, she managed to hold still, book firmly in place. He could feel her coiled tightly, ready to come undone, and how she shuddered when he withdrew his fingers. Soon. 

“Are you suffering, little love,” he cooed at her. 

Whimpering around the gag, she nodded vigorously. Astarion rolled his hips, thrusting up into her, rejoicing in her desperation. Once more, he returned to the stack of pillows, more torture to play out. His finger found her clit again, rubbing slow, languid strokes along it. She was positively drenched for him, driving him nearly as mad as he had her. 

“I bet you want to come, don’t you?” He teased, his one finger still giving her the most feather-light caresses. She answered with a noise, and Astarion could see more tears in her eyes, giving him pause.

“Serafina, look at me,” he commanded, forcing her eyes to his. “I asked you a question.” She nodded, an answer and a confirmation all was still well. 

Sitting up fully, he began to stroke her roughly, two fingers circling her clit. His other hand reached for her breast, squeezing it and pulling and twisting her nipple. Her face was a thing of wonder as she began to fall apart with his touch. In the midst of her trembling, the book tumbled from her arms. Her eyes went wide and she froze, staring at him. 

He’d had enough of playing with her though, it was time they both got what they needed. Swiftly, he rolled, pinning her and her bound arms beneath him, moaning as she instinctively pulled her legs up to her chest. Fingers digging into the skin of her hips, he fucked her with a desperate need. Soft whimpers from behind the gag told him she was close, teased beyond the point of lasting, not that he was far behind. “Come for me, love.” 

Her eyes rolled back and with a desperate keening, she tightened around him, her whole body shaking slightly. Every thrust of his continued to pull little mewls from her as he relentlessly chased his own pleasure. “Gods,” he looked down and she was staring at him not with lust, but with that gaze so full of love it was hard to contemplate sometimes. That finally sent him over the edge. “Se-ra-fin-a,” he ground out, as he spilled himself inside her. 

Sweat covered the both of them, and the sounds of the storm still raging outside mixed with ragged, quiet breathing. “Lesson learned,” he whispered hoarsely. Below him, she nodded, a peaceful, dreamy look on her face. 

Pulling the gag off and tossing it aside, he leaned down to kiss her softly, hearing the slowing of her rapid pulse. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, heart swelling at the way she nuzzled into his neck. Would there ever be a time she didn’t have that effect on him? 

Carefully he unbound her arms, cord joining the gag on the floor, concerns for later. The next steps were like a sacred ritual between them, as he cleaned her, tended to her backside, and dressed her again. “Can I have your shirt,” she asked sweetly, as though he could deny her anything. Finally, he pulled her into his arms, safe, loved, treasured, worshiped. 

“I love you,” she sighed against his skin.

“I love you too,” he replied, as if those words could contain a fraction of what he felt for her. The whole of his world, in flesh and blood, placed into his arms for him to worship. 

tag list

@micropoe10  @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin 

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

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@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblog @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary @talented-bitch