#but the Drow have taken over

[nixiegenesis]

I have every intention of playing something other than a Drow every time I start another Baldur's Gate 3 playthrough I swear...

[solvicrafts]

What gets me about certain people being so fucking pissy about Bob not writing much about Eilistraee (until the last fucking trilogy where EIlistraeans featured heavily) is that

a) Bob basically built drow culture up from almost nothing, and Eilistraee came after he started writing Drizzt

b) no you guys really don't understand. I own the first 4 modules drow appeared in. There's... not much there. And it hasn't aged well.

c) and the Big One: he has a specific vision for his specific characters when it comes to the narrative he wants to explore, from sexual abuse to religious trauma, both of which are fucking complicated and for most people just switching deities isn't enough to fix that.

I have religious trauma that I still struggle with to this day and probably will for the rest of my life to some extent, and it's fundamentally different in nature from what most people would probably expect, and the thing is even though I am happily polytheistic and very enthusiastically into it, I still struggle a lot with certain things because every time I get into my religious practice I have to actively force myself into (or out of) certain things because my whole relationship to religion and spirituality is complicated and messy.

It would be easy and frankly incredibly superficial for Bob to decide to just have them all convert to half-assed Neowiccan ~woo~ drow Jesus Eilistraee to *~*save their souls*~* and call it a day

BUT HE DIDN'T DO THAT

Partly because she wasn't his creation and other authors were writing her at the time so he really couldn't, and partly because it's a shitty message to send.

Sometimes people benefit from converting to a new religion or following a new deity. Sometimes people don't.

I benefited from gradually converting to my religion, but it's come with a whole different set of complications and hasn't been a smooth journey for me.

Just going from extensive religious trauma to switching deities does not fix your problems, and for a lot of people it realistically can make them much worse.

but also

you don't have to be saved by a deity in order to have value as a person

[the-kaedageist]

It’s so funny that Essek was taken aback by Fearne summoning Teven, but if you’d asked me before this episode (or at least before Fearne met him), “which party would be more likely to randomly summon the champion of a betrayer god out of thin air without warning?” I would have immediately answered “The Mighty Nein”. 

I love the implications of this. I love the idea that the Nein’s antics might STILL throw Essek years later, but isn’t that also why he loves them so much? Didn’t they win him over by relentless friendship mixed with absolute batshit amounts of chaos? 

On the other hand, I can also imagine a world where yes, Essek totally would have expected this from the Nein - but he never expected any other adventuring party to be as ridiculous as his friends. 

This poor drow will never escape the confines of being trapped within the indignity of a game of dnd, and I love that for him.

[ryttu3k]

Speculating on why Astarion doesn't seem to remember his mortal life. Some of the other spawn clearly do (Leon knows who Victoria is, Dalyria remembers being a doctor), and Dalyria had a high-up position, so it's entirely possible she was over a hundred when she was turned. Maybe Astarion's memory loss is due to his age when he was turned?

Elves in Forgotten Realms have an interesting relationship with memory. All FR elves reincarnate. Initially, when they trance, they basically just relive their past lives; in their second or third decades (teenage years or twenties), they experience First Reflection, and they start incorporating memories of their current lives into their reverie. This is basically… part reflection, part reinforcement of what they learn in their waking/active hours, so it sounds like it's pretty important to turn short-term memories into long-term ones. Over the next several decades, they dream of their past lives less and less, and eventually go through a fairly traumatic event called Drawing of the Veil, at about a century old. After that, they're considered, culturally, to be adults. After the Drawing of the Veil, the memories worked through in trance are entirely of their current existence.

(Source: Mordenkainen's Tome of Foes. It's a 5e book published in 2018, so it could have been a source for BG3, I suspect. The game doesn't agree entirely with the book - it says elves stop visibly aging at about thirty, and Astarion, Halsin, and Minthara all look older - but they could have definitely taken notes from it.)

Drawing of the Veil could indicate that an elf's memory centres of their brain are now fully developed and 'attuned' to their current life. So, what happens if the process is interrupted? Astarion was turned at thirty-nine, well before the Drawing of the Veil. I wonder if this interrupted the usual reinforcement of memories, or damaged the memory centres of his brain? He's had, at most, thirty years of a potential ninety years of memory centre development, so he does remember bits and pieces, but the vast majority he missed.

It might not have been instantaneous, ie. waking up in his coffin without any memories at all. But over time, without being able to sort through those mortal memories in reverie, they just start fading away and can't be written into long-term memory. If Dalyria had already experienced Drawing of the Veil, her memory centres wouldn't have had the same damage, so she'd be able to keep working through her mortal memories in trance; Astarion, who was turned younger, can't work over them and so they just… end up forgotten.

Also worth noting that Astarion also doesn't trance exclusively, too - he actually sleeps at times. Most surface elves never true sleep unless they're badly injured, ill, or exhausted (drow sleep more). We do see Astarion trancing, but we also see him sleeping a few times - he sleeps and has a nightmare in his Origin run, and he's sleeping during that scene with a Dark Urge who's romanced him. If he can't access his past lives or mortal life when he trances, then literally all he has access to is… his life under Cazador's rule. Dreaming might be weird and scary and uncomfortable and risky, but it's also a possible escape from not reliving two centuries of shit.

There isn't really anything to confirm one way or another in-game, but I did wonder why Astarion doesn't remember his mortal life, and Dalyria appears to do so. Astarion was young for an elf when he was turned, so I wonder if that could be the reason why, interrupting that memory formation development.

(Side note: I do consider Astarion to have been an adult when he was turned in almost all ways, including physically, mentally, and in Faerûnian society. He just wouldn't have been considered an adult when he was turned in elven culture, due to not having undergone Drawing of the Veil. He was a Baldurian elf, considred to have the rights and responsibilities of any other adult. If he had been raised in, say, Evereska, that'd be another matter entirely, but Baldur's Gate is mixed, and majority human. A great analogy I saw once is that Drawing of the Veil is analogous to having your b'nai mitzvah - of course a thirteen-year-old isn't an adult in broader society, but within the community, a b'nai mitzvah is expected to be held accountable for their actions, know Jewish law, participate in things like fasting for Yom Kippur, count towards minyan, etc. It's a specific cultural standpoint of maturity, even if it's not a broader societal standpoint; with the theory above, it would also have a biological component with memory formation, similar to how b'nai mitzvah most often coincides with puberty. Anyway, even without Drawing of the Veil, 39 is still painfully, tragically young for someone that could have potentially lived to 750.)

[meanbossart]

Because I love the idea of DU drow as a companion... how would you recruit him? Where do you find him, and what's his intro cutscene?

Hi, I've been thinking about this since I got this message :V

There's this nautiloid pod somewhere nearby the Owlbear cave right? So those things were just crashing all over the place, not just near the beach where the actual ship fell. I believe his pod could have had a similar fate and fallen somewhere off the beaten path.

Mind you that, In this scenario, waking up from the pod and onto the forest map would have been DU Drow's first-ever conscious minutes ever since having his mind wiped, so he truly has no fucking idea of what just happened - he just knows his head is in shambles and that he needs to survive for long enough for his memories to return, assuming they ever will. So, his immediate instinct would be to retreat away from where the people are.

I think underneath the bridge, where there's running water and some fauna/flora would be a good spot to find him. Players might take a day or two until they stumble across this weirdo companion and so they are more in the loop than he would be. You'd find a little blood-trail leading you down there, and eventually spot a fist's corpse with no shoes near the river - DU drow would be crouched down by the water washing blood off himself:

While the rest of the party may have been picked off random places as they went about their days, this guy was busy being dissected and put back together over and over again - and there's no way Kressa bothered to dress him back up fully before he was taken away from her (me allowing the man to have pants on at all is a mercy onto you all) so he begins with no armor, but to make up for that fact he's the only companion who begins with a great-sword, which he would have stolen from the fist.

When you approach he is perfectly calm, In fact, he doesn't seem all that there. He stands up and appears half-ready for a fight, but lets you speak first. You can either ask what he's doing here, or about the corpse. You get more or less the same answer to both:

If you successfully persuade him, he tells you with no particular tone of shame or remorse that you got him, he did kill him, however he claims he was attacked first. Whether you pry into his mind with the worm, or have a scroll of read-thoughts, you get the same narration:

"Behind the aloof facade, you find the drow's mind to be in a concerning state of disarray: dozens of thoughts racing, jumbled, all at once, each trailing into the next before you can catch a hint of substance. You don't find the answers you were looking for, just red goo."

You CAN however use speak to the dead on the corpse. If you do that, it's revealed that he is actually telling the truth; The fist found him and assumed him to be with the drow who raided Wakeen's rest. Otherwise, you have to either take his word for it, attack him, or leave him.

He will refuse your offers to join you/go to your camp until you reveal to him that you have been tadpoled - either through using the Illithid-worm option, or telling him upfront through normal dialogue. If you didn't peer into his head earlier, you will now, confirming to yourself and him that he's also been infected. Then, you can tell him you're looking for a cure, and he will agree to travel along. This gets you approval from Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion, and disapproval from Lae'zel, Wyll, and Gale.

If you attack, he's as easy a fight as any companion would be at that point. If you choose to leave him be/not tell him about your worm so he refuses to join, he will appear at your camp after two long rests, basically forcing himself to into your party unless you kill him. You find him hanging out around Withers and he tells you he's decided to travel with you from now on, and that he will make himself comfortable.

If you ask for his name, he tells you to just call him whatever you want to (cue like 5 joke dialogue answers - he responds to all of them with a snort and you get approval if you pick any flattering ones). Whatever you ask about him gets you a very blunt, vague response. If you have Shadowheart in your party/are playing as her, she implies he may be suffering from memory loss, finally prompting him to admit to it. Otherwise he only reveals this after a couple more long-rests.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

«five times kissed || Astarion ||

In which you kissed Astarion four times and the one time where he kissed you.

One:

The first time you kissed Astarion in your mind it didn’t even count as a kiss since your lips barley grazed his. It was the night the man positioned you for sex, you weren’t quiet focused on your lips on his, only how good it felt to feel him within you. To feel his teeth grazing every inch of your skin as he thrusted into you.

And as the night continued you made a mental note to give your lover a proper kiss but right now, now you were going to enjoy this.

Two:

The second time you kissed Astarion it wasn’t what you’d call a proper kiss. You were about to face Kethric Throne and the thought of dying may have crossed your mind. So you did what you thought was best. You tossed your arms around around his neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss, your tongue gliding across his.

It took him a moment to register what was happening but soon the vampire was kissing you back with just as much passion. His fingers down your back, his fangs nipping at your lips and once the kiss was broken you were bother breathless. He made a teasing joke but you saw the warmth in his eyes, the worry.

And you were worried too but deep down you knew you’d both make it out.

Three

The third kiss happened when you happen to run into that drow woman, she made a comment about Astarion and Astarion made his. A deep possessiveness had come over you, you hadn’t gotten the chance to flaunt your relationship to the man and so now you would.

“I’m sorry, but he’s taken and the only one he will bite is me.” You didn’t mean to sound so snippy but she was pissing you off. Your body held on to his arm tightly though you had to stand on your toes to press your lips against the corner of his.

You didn’t even have to look at Astarion to know he had a very visible smirk on his as his arm wrapped around your waist. She didn’t even get a chance to respond as you both walked off.

“I can not wait to spoil you tonight my dear.” Astarion whispered in your ear.

It was going to be a long yet pleasurable night.

Four

The fourth time you kissed Astarion wasn’t a kiss on the lips, he didn’t need that. Not after what he just went through, not after he was covered in his tormenters blood.

You took a hesitant step forward, to broke your heart seeing him like this. So scared, you can still hear his heart wrenching cry echoing in your ears. You can still see the tears running down his cheek as you knelt next to him.

Your arms slowly wrapping around his body as you pulled him in close. You didn’t say anything, nothing needed to be said. You only placed a gentle kiss to the top of his head and held him.

Letting him know that he was not alone.

Fifth 

The time where Astarion had kissed you, it was on the night of your wedding. You were breathtaking, he couldn’t tare his gaze away from you. Nothing else seemed to matter but you and him.

And when he kissed you everything seemed to fade away. It was a gentle kiss, his hand cupped your cheek as his thumb glided across your skin. You could feel his love in this kiss.

It was something that you never wanted to end but the moment he broke the kiss. His eyes so full of love you knew.

You knew that every kiss after will be like this and that was something you can live with.

[junowritings]

What about romanced Astarion reacting to the normally goody-goody Tav revealing that they stole the special potion from Araj before they left. He discovers this because Tav gives it to him as soon as they are out of sight from the blood merchant.

Oh I absolutely love this idea. Though writing this made me realize I need to put Astarion in my party more often. Went off on a bit of a tangent but I do hope you enjoy~!

=======

♡ Oh, the things we do for love, ey?

♡ Astarion plays nice with others in the interest of survival, and he’s made no attempts to hide that fact from you since you had really begun to bond. You on the other hand are akin to a bleeding heart, all too often going out of your way to do what you thought was right even if it meant putting yourself in harm's way as a result. At the beginning that attitude seemed pitiful - he figured it would simply end up getting you killed later down the line. And yet you’d rise, time and time again making an example of the morals that you set and surviving every encounter stronger than before. Even if your morals didn’t always align, he respected that tenacity.

♡ Even after you’d managed to worm your way into his very heart, the pair of you have butted heads more than once on the matter; at the high and mighty goody two shoes act that you face the world with. All of the reminders about doing good deeds for the sake of being good, not stealing from just anyone nor going behind others backs rummaging through personal effects for answers or loot. Not to mention all of that time spent helping others and listening to their plights as though they were your own. Honestly, darling, you really do make things harder on yourself by playing into other people’s sob stories. 

♡ Astarion never suspected that the encounter at Moonrise tower could have changed anything.

♡ He’s uncharacteristically quiet as you leave the room together after dealing with Araj, but that’s because inside Astarion is absolutely seething. A familiar feeling of disgust he’d longed hoped to quash down burns a hole deep within his chest, opening old mental wounds as though freshly torn asunder upon his flesh. He’s mad at that damned drow; the way she looked down upon him, using honeyed words that he knew were a damn farce because for fucks sake he’d been using the same tactics for well over a century. That look, that calculated appraisal as Araj gauged what the vampire spawn could offer her in exchange for her potion made his skin crawl, all too familiar with the look that spoke volumes of his value - as a means to serve her own whims and not an actual person.

♡ And then, when he’d shown reluctance, she’d turned to you, as though you’d reign him in and get him to bend to your will like some fanged pet you kept on a tight leash. Far from the truth, of course, but the lack of autonomy that Astarion felt watching the pair of you converse about him as if he wasn’t even there had him clenching his teeth hard enough that the ache in his jaw persists long afterwards.

♡ There had been a swell of satisfaction when you put your foot down on the matter, nipping her demand in the bud with a firm reminder that he had already refused her request - there was no more to discuss. The drow had gotten bored after that, uninterested in further discussion with her own desires now off the table, and Astarion was all too happy to be out of there as you trailed a few paces behind.

♡ Astarion stands by his choice, but another part of him kicks himself for turning down the reward. A moment of discomfort, to give up a piece of himself for a potion that could prove invaluable was all it could have taken. He had done it before - done it for centuries to placate that vile beast he once served - why would this be any different? A transactional relationship, one that could have given you a leg up in the battles ahead, and he’d refused. 

♡ He’s still stewing in these thoughts when a nudge breaks him from his reverie, a gentle brush of your fingers against his hand as you move into step beside your partner. Your touch is warm yet he prickles as though he’s been burned, pupils akin to pinpricks as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. He’s measuring you, for a moment. Takes in the brow furrowed and questioning eyes - not pity, concern - trying to gauge how he’s feeling. It’s a discussion for later, so Astarion dons that usual placating smile and turns to you, fully prepared to pull a spiel about that whole conversation being a waste of your perfectly good time. And then he notices.

♡ His ears perk up at a noise, the gentle slosh of something moving. Crimson eyes dart down to the source, to the hand you’d touch him with. It’s not empty - no, fingers curl tight around the corded neck of a familiar glass green bottle, and your nudge this time is more insistent as you press the bottle into the palm of his hand, urging him to take it. You relinquish the bottle to his hold, pale hands taking the glass and stirring up the liquid inside as he brings it up to get a better look. Surely this isn’t…

♡ But then sure enough you smile, a mischievous twinkle in your eye that makes his own widen as you shrug.

♡ “For you. Figured she didn’t need it anymore; since she just left it lying out in the open and all.”.

♡ The laugh comes before Astarion can stop himself - loud and unabashed from the sheer absurdity of it all. You? Actually stealing something? And for him no less! And they say that romance is dead, yet here you are wooing him one stolen novelty at a time. 

♡Hells he hadn’t even noticed that you’d swiped the damned thing - had it been when you’d turned the blood merchant down? Or back when she’d had her sights set on him? He doesn’t care for the answer, not really. He’s more impressed that you pulled it off, but Astarion certainly doesn’t miss the irony of it all. His lovely partner, casting aside your usual goody nature in favor of stealing something and getting one up on the woman who’d disrespected your lover. As if he wasn’t fond enough of you already - this was just another lovely little reminder of the lengths you’d go for him.

♡ His smile for a moment is all teeth, shoulders still shaking with the last dregs of laughter - which damn if he didn’t need - as he brings his free arm to curl around your side. The kiss pressed to your cheek is quick, vibrating with the appreciative hum that passes the spawn’s lips when you lean a little into him. Once he pulls away Astarion keeps his free hand looped around your side, the other holding the bottle up and giving the contents a dramatic little shake to show off.

♡ Perhaps he’ll keep this as a little secret; or maybe he’ll spend the rest of that night flaunting this potion teasing you for your first act of casual thievery. Whatever the outcome it’s worth the grin he flashes you as he gives a conspiratory wink and declares.

♡ “Oh my dear. We’ll make a fine miscreant of you yet!”

[tragedybunny]

I Should Tell You - Chapter 1

༺Summary༻

In a fit of guilt, Astarion tries to confess his deception to you. At the last moment, he loses his nerve and ends your relationship with another lie. He's resigned himself to having lost his chance with you forever when once again everything changes. With the two of you out on your own, will he be able to take a chance and tell you everything, and will you forgive him when he does?

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Female Reader

༺Warnings༻ Sexual references

༺Word Count༻ 1888

Astarion was, well, he was loath to admit it, but he was brooding. He’d taken up a private room at the Elfsong now that everything was over, one where he could keep protected from the sun while the rest of his companions, yourself included, lived their lives in the light of day. Slowly, condemned back to the shadows, locked in his room with drapes drawn tight against the burning daylight, he’d drifted further and further away from the group. Culminating in tonight, where he had one perfunctory drink at the farewell party and slipped off away from the group to hide out amongst his books and the shadows of his mind. 

For the last several weeks, everyone had put their all into assisting Baldur’s Gate in starting to rebuild. Those who were left anyway, Wyll and Karlach were in Avernus, and Lae’zel was off to wage war on Vlaakith. Now those who were left would be parting ways as well, Shadowheart to see the world, Gale back to Waterdeep, Jaheira and Minsc to rebuild the Baldur’s Gate Harpers, and you and Halsin…hells, he didn’t want to know. 

If he were being honest with himself, which felt like it was to be avoided these days, there was more to his self-imposed exile than returning to a nocturnal life. Seeing the two of you together made it feel like a dagger was shoved between his ribs and playing around with his insides. 

And the worst part was, it was all his fault. He couldn’t be mad at you or the infuriatingly perfect Druid. Well, he shouldn’t anyway, he still found himself wanting to shred Halsin’s throat with his teeth every time he pulled you close and kissed you like you were a goddess he was paying worship to. He’d done it to himself though, weaving a web of lies and manipulations so dense he’d trapped himself while you slipped through, unscathed. 

That web became too entangled with the way you’d stood firm against that Drow, for him. You’d seen him as a person, and he’d repaid that by seeing you as a pawn. At least at first. By the time you shouted at that vile creature on his behalf, he’d become so hopelessly lost in the strands of feeling that had grown and wrapped around his heart, he knew he had to give up the plan, and give you the truth, even if you hated him for it.  

As soon as your group had made camp that night, not far enough from the shadows of Moonrise Towers for anyone's comfort, he'd made his way over to you. “I want to thank you,” he’d started, sure of his course. “For what you said whilst in front of that vile Drow…

“...You made me realize I never stopped thinking like his slave.” He drew in a breath, despite the fact that he didn’t need it, and froze. Patiently, you stared up at him with that affectionate look you always had, giving him space to collect his thoughts. You, the fount of warmth and sweetness he didn’t deserve, the love he couldn’t hope to keep. Frantically, he willed himself to speak, to tell you what you needed to know, no matter the consequences.

“And I realize I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship.” The words had spilled out of his lips before he could think them through and he watched as your eyes widened in hurt. 

“Gods no, what the fuck are you doing,” he cursed himself, but still the words came. 

“Being with someone still feels tainted, I need to figure out who I am, what I want.” Finally, he’d bitten down on his own tongue to stop the tide, but the damage was done. 

Those loving eyes of yours sparkled with tears, but that composure he’d begrudgingly come to admire since he met you held firm. “Is this really what you want, Astarion?” 

“No, no, no. I want you, I want it to be real.” If he gave you the truth and you sent him away, he couldn’t bear it. At least this way he could salvage your friendship, still bask in your light from time to time. The excuse was flimsy, even to himself, but he’d been a liar from the start. 

“I think it's for the best, I'm sorry.” Twice, he’d lied to you, twice, there would never be any coming back from this. “Please don't be mad at me.”

You stepped forward and he instinctively came close to cowering away. But you weren’t intent on harming him, instead wrapping your arms around him in a gentle embrace. “I think I understand. I’m not mad if this is what you need.” 

Your arms felt as though they were crushing him, their touch burning his skin. The urge to pull away and flee was almost overwhelming. But you deserved this one last bit of comfort. “Thank you,” he murmured, resting his head on your shoulder, breathing you in, and resigning himself to a life without this.

After you finally pulled away, you went to his tent and packed your things, leaving to set up on your own and let him endure the night without you at his side. There was a time when he’d never believe his own space could feel so empty. Back in the spawn dormitory, he would have given anything for this solitude. Now it was wretched. And so his first night alone was passed in miserable resolution, and when the day dawned, he went on as though all was right. 

It wasn’t lost on him that you would eventually find other companionship, you were attractive, witty, brave, and immensely caring. And from what he’d seen, you certainly weren’t interested in a celibate lifestyle. That line of reasoning still didn't prepare him for the night the group camped outside Rivington. 

Astarion had just returned from a hunt, the blood of a rabbit fresh on his tongue. It wasn’t you but he hadn’t dared ask to touch your neck after everything, electing to spend his trance hours dreaming of those moments between you instead. It was better than the nightmares of Cazador and his tortures at least. As he’d crept into the circle of ruined buildings that camp had been set up in, he stopped short, the world feeling as though it was closing in around him. 

You were talking to Halsin, who held one of your hands in his, and somehow, even with his ridiculously large hands, delicately brushed a strand of hair behind your ear with the otherl. Time slowed and Astarion felt as though the blood in his stomach might make its way back out of his mouth. 

In the dim firelight, the stars gleaming without a cloud to obscure them, Halsin kissed you. Softly, slowly at first, and then his hands wandered to your hips to pull you in as he deepened it. Your hands came to rest on those broad shoulders and instead of pulling away as Astarion desperately hoped you would, you leaned into it, eager and wanting. He wasn’t close enough, but Astarion could swear he heard the little moan you probably made. The same sound you used to make for him. 

Halsin stared down at you after breaking the kiss, no doubt with naked lust written on his face, and offered you his hand again. And that was the that, the two of you began to quietly walk away from camp while Astarion fled to his tent, crawling into his bedroll and desperately choking down the sobs that threatened. 

It had been bound to happen, but how soon, was what burned from the inside out. Just like that, you’d forgotten all about him, as though he hadn’t mattered in the first place.  How dare you. He tried to summon anger with you, to wash away the pain. It was a betrayal, he had every right to be angry. You waited for no time at all, you moved on so easily, you…you just forgot he loved you. 

Not that he’d ever said it, but you must have known. The bedroll was even colder than usual as Astarion clung to the one object he found comfort in. Kept secreted away amongst his things, a shirt of yours he managed to pilfer before his botched confession. By day, it was tucked in his pack, and at night it filled his bedroll beside him. Pulling it into his arms, he inhaled what was left of your scent on it, and buried his face in the pillow to weep bitter tears. 

He emerged the next morning into daylight that no longer held the promise it had so recently. Almost immediately you ran to him, taking your arm in his, giving him a moment of foolish hope. If things had gone badly between you and Halsin, he would rectify his mistake and tell you everything, he privately swore. 

All it took was one look in your eyes to know that hope was in vain. “Astarion, I need to tell you something, and I wanted you to hear it from me first.” You led him away from the rest of the group, almost to the spot where he’d seen you with Halsin. The rest of your companions pretended not to notice the obvious personal moment occurring a stone's throw away from them.

It was a good thing he'd cried every tear he had last night. “Well go on Darling, don't keep me in suspense,” he plastered on a grin. 

“The thing is,” you look everywhere but at him, “Halsin and I, well, things happened between us last night, and I think I'd like to pursue whatever this is. It just felt right to tell you first.”

Astarion laughed, a hollow sound to his own ears, but convincing enough for you, it seemed. “My Dear, you were worrying yourself about this? Don't vex your pretty little head like that, I don't begrudge your need for intimacy. Even if I fail to understand the appeal of a man who's always going on about enjoying the freedom of nature's gifts.”

“Astarion,” you scolded, but a subtle smile told him you were relieved. “Behave yourself.”

“Let me have a little fun at your expense.” He disentangled his arm from yours, its warmth suddenly smothering. Taking your hand, he kissed it gently. “I'm glad, you deserve to be happy.” That part he did mean, even as he reviled how it was happening. “And I'm sure you and Halsin will be. Don't worry about me.”

“Please worry about me. Can't you see how I'm bleeding?”

Leaning up, you kissed his cheek, with all the gentleness in the world. “Thank you, Astarion, I'm glad you understand, I'd never want to hurt you.”

From that moment on, you were Halsin's and Astarion had to grin and pretend to be happy for you. That's what friends were for and you insisted you two were friends. The two of you seemed so disgustingly infatuated with each other, he wanted to scream at times. So naturally he'd assumed you'd be happily headed out on some grand, romantic journey together. 

Which was why it startled him to nearly a second death when you burst into his claimed sanctuary, clearly distraught and slamming the door behind you. “I'm sorry… I can't be in there,” you gasped out between sobs.

@micropoe10  @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

Tag List:

 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin 

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

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

@satanicspinosaurus @darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved

@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @icybluepenguin

[moghedien]

Honestly obsessed right now with the way all the BG3 romancable girlies are the most affection starved creatures on the planet

Shadowheart is just existing in a constant state of being manipulated and abused by Shar and Viconia on behalf of Shar. She has like exactly one friend who she can’t even remember when we meet her because even that has to be taken from her on Shar’s demands. She’s probably had lovers but she can’t remember them and Shar wouldn’t allow anything serious anyway. The two people would show her affection are her parents who she’s not even allowed to remember are her parents from one interaction to another and who she’s made to torture, again for Shar. And the way she talks about Shar, it’s clear that Shadowheart wants some kind of positive attention, but the only attention she gets is a shock collar that punishes her when she’s not being what Shar wants her to be.

Lae’zel is made to see affection as a sign of weakness. She can’t comprehend even treating kids in a way that can even be slightly considered coddling. She sees it as damaging to them, raising them to be weak, because she was raised to cull or be culled when it comes to her peers. If you romance her, she’s initially deeply uncomfortable with the idea of even just cuddling after sex. And even sex is a power struggle, even when she thinks it can’t be anything more than casual. She can’t be weak even while she’s fucking bottoming. You have to be nearly into act 3 before she’ll even admit that she wants you to touch her gently and she says asking for it is one of the most frightening things she’s ever done. The girl doesn’t even know what the word love means until the epilogue, if you romance her.

Minthara has spent her entire life looking over her shoulder for people waiting to kill her in some power struggle. The relationships she mentions to you either ended with death or at least had assassination attempts at some point. She seems close to her mother for a drow noble but still sees that as a relationship that has to end eventually in murder. And even though she has had her mind taken from her, she seems much more eager to pry into your mind than anyone else and when she does it’s because she’s looking for information on herself. How you see her. She wants to see everything laid out and to trust each other completely. Having access to each others’ minds is probably somewhat of a relief to her, because this way she can know exactly how you feel and exactly if and when you’re going to betray her. If you don’t intend to, then that would be the first time in her life she could ever not be constantly on edge around someone.

And Karlach. It’s sad because she’s absolutely the one that would be most willing to trust and open to affection. But she literally is not physically able to receive it. She was forced to fight in the blood war for a decade unable to trust anyone and not having a single friend. The closest thing she had was still a devil who enjoyed hurting her in petty little ways, who would still sell her out to Zariel. And when she’s escaped from the Hells, she still can’t physically touch anyone without killing or at least severally hurting them. She is clearly the most openly eager for physical affection, even the most platonic and casual touch, but she can’t get that. She will literally physically hurt anyone who gets too close to her not matter how hard she tries not to, because of how other people hurt her.

[ma1dmer]

Baldur's Gate - Kar'niss NSFW

pathetic men are my bread and butter,

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): anything you say goes, he'll kneel at your feet and ask you what can he do to help you, what do you want from him, he just lives to serve, he needs your guidance, you'll also find that more often than not, he is the one that needs the aftercare

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): genuinely everything about you, this man is so infatuated its a problem, if you let him he'd spend hours simply exploring your body, how perfectly you are made, what a gift you are to him, his worship of you desperate and aching

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): he is definitely the kind to want to clean you up after he cums inside of you, he'll pull out and immediately lift your hips up to his face, his tongue delving deep within you

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): he wants to breed you whether thats possible or not doesn't matter, he always holds onto you for a tad too long after he cums, grinding his hips against yours, holding your hips up at an angle, stroking your stomach before he moves to clean you up

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): i doubt that any experience he has had in his life really matters to how he is now, firstly being remade by Lolth herself and then being taken in by "the absolute", his old self is lost, but at least he can learn now, guide him gently or not and he is your willing student

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): on your back, your hips lifted high in the air supported by him, either for him to eat you out or to bury his cock in you

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): definitely more serious, if you laughed, he'd think you are laughing at him, his paranoia taking over

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): he is pretty smooth and hairless, considering both the drow and the drider parts of him

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): he is not exactly romantic, but he is very very passionate

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): he wants to watch you, he wants to see everything, he'll stand back eyes trained on you with such intensity, watching your every move, shivering when you look back up to him, when you are done he'll snatch your wrist up and clean your fingers with his tongue, thanking you for allowing him to watch you

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): body worship, praise, sub-dom dynamics, tying and being tied up

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): away from prying eyes, but he is not picky, whenever you want him he's more than happy to provide for you

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): praise, kindness, being nice to him, call it whatever you want, he is like a starving dog, offer him some kindness and he'll follow your every wish like the kicked puppy that he is

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): degradation, he might be okay with you rough housing him a bit, you are his saviour, you are his everything, but talking down to him makes him snap

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): he has a big oral fixation, he is sloppy, but whatever he lacks in technique he makes up for with enthusiasm, if you let him he'll spend hours between your thighs, barely coming up for air, whimpering at your taste

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): if you let him set his place he is fast and rough, mindlessly rutting into you with desperation, almost punishing you for his own need

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): he loves them, but he is never good with being quick, you have to be the one to pull away if you want to get back to your business

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): no, firmly no, he is surprisingly vanilla about things, even if in the moment it doesn't appear for that to be the case

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): as a drider, his stamina is unnatural, and sometimes he forgets you are merely a mortal, so caught up in the pleasure and the feel of you he does not notice when you go limp with exhaustion, when he does notice he yanks himself away, apologising profusely

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): he is not fond of them, he gets weirdly jealous, insecure about not being enough for you, angry and spiteful about it too

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): he can not tease you, it's just not something he is capable of, he stands at your beck and call, if you say stop he stops, afraid he's displeased you in some way

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): he is loud, he talks and groans, he whimpers and pleads for you, he cannot keep himself quiet, you'll have to keep his mouth busy if you want him quiet, kiss him, shove your fingers down his throat, anything you'll give him, he'll take

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): he'd probably enjoy switching up your dynamic every now and then, he'd never suggest it himself you'd still have to take the reigns on that, it'd take a second, for him to be comfortable to take charge, but once he does, he'd get so into it, roughly pulling you this way and that, ordering you, calling you pet, using you like nothing more than a doll

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): i know , i know the lore, i have a Lolth tattoo ofc i know the lore, however.......

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): its not so much that he needs sex, its the only way he can get as close to crawling under your skin as he can, being inside you, watching you fall apart cause of him, thats what he needs, thats what he breathes for

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): as a drider he doesn't need to sleep a lot, usually he'll wait for you to fall asleep and then its just him spending his night watching over you, whispering about how blessed he is, making sure nothing harms you

[autistichalsin]

Halsin has gone through multiple, lasting traumas:

Has been kidnapped and held as a sex slave for three years, quite possibly as a teenager based on some comments ("takes me back to my youth" to the Drow twins; referring to himself as a "young Druid" when he was taken), which are psychologically formative years

He gets made archdruid at a young age, with no experience nor preparation, in the middle of a battle where most others besides him died, including the previous archdruid

His first (possibly only depending on how dark your reading is) childhood friend was a boy who was the spirit of the forest/nature itself; said childhood friend is later cursed, and when Halsin goes to find him, his Grove falls into the hands of an extremist, which depending on player choice can also lead to a child's death, and on top of that, he gets kidnapped, imprisoned, and tortured in wildshape

And that's to say nothing of what can happen to him in branching storylines (I.E. if Orin kidnaps him, or if the player decimates the Emerald Grove, or if they fail to end the Shadow Curse)

And his responses to those traumas?

A hedonistic approach to sex

A tendency towards indulgence in many other aspects, though he admits he doesn't do it meaninglessly in terms of food

An intensely giving personality that also doesn't allow for reciprocation (dominance, but of the gentle variety, during sex, with no indication he would ever bottom; enthusiastically doing oral for the player character without the player returning the favor), which suggests there's an element of making up for lost control here

Immense guilt over the events that happen during and before the story, even when they were decidedly not his fault

Intense protectiveness over the defenseless- children, animals, and nature itself, as well as refugees

So... in other words, Halsin is reacting to his traumas, which involve themes of imprisonment, loss of control/agency, and being forced into impossible conditions where the blame falls on him even when it's undeserved, by indulging in the few pleasures he can find, and by taking control in the ways he can- sex and protecting those he can, and by blaming himself. (Paradoxically, blaming oneself is a form of taking control back; if it was your fault, that means you could have changed it.)

And, lastly, Halsin copes by... downplaying everything. Refusing to admit his pain. This, too, is a form of control-taking.

I don't think I've had a character's rape trauma/recovery storyline resonate this strongly with me since Katherine Howard from Six the musical.

[thewritetofreespeech]

A Million Relms Away

words: 2.8K

rating: E

pairing: Astarion x Tav

tags: heterosexual sex, sex & comfort, oral (female), mentions of emotional trauma, Nym & Sorn

summary: You and Astarion return to Sharass' Caress to take the Twins up on their offer. But you have to wonder if this is really what he wants.

Ao3

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

What better way to celebrate a victory than with passionate sex?

With Cazador defeated, and Astarion free, you decided to reward yourselves by taking the infamous drow twins of Sharass’ Caress up on their offer.

They seem delighted to see you again. Although it maybe that they are just delighted to see your gold again. Still, they take you gently by the hand and lead you both upstairs. Nym made some comments about bathing the room in darkness to enhance the experience. All part of the show more like. With a wave of her hand the room was indeed plunged into darkness. A black so thick you almost felt you could reach out and touch it.

“Be a dear and help me out of this, won’t you?” The beautiful drow’s voice beckons to you. Leading your hands to the clasps of her dress for you to undo. The soft silks falling away in a pool at her delicate feet.

The remaining members of the party all undress at their leisure before all four of you arrive at the bed. Nym takes your hand again. Only this time not to do her bidding but pull you in close to do yours. Her lips are soft and well cared for. Her skin smooth and cool under your fingertips as they slide over her upper arm.

“All right sweethearts. You are to dance with a professional, you’ll get your desire.”

Your eyes turn to Astarion in the dark. Professional?

Astarion wasn’t a professional. Sure, he was experienced. You knew that. But he wasn’t like the twins between them, getting paid to perform these services. He wasn’t a prostitute. He was…..Astarion. Wasn’t he?

“For this, I feel we should be paying you.” Sorn’s assumed compliment falls on deaf ears. Astarion wasn’t listening to him. He wasn’t listening to anyone. When you catch his gaze in the few moments Nym releases your lips to dance kisses over your shoulder, you realize that he’s a million realms away.

Astarion is somewhere else entirely. Somewhere far away from here in his mind…..

“Stop.”

The elves all stop immediately and collectively pull away from each other at your single command.

“Is something wrong, darling?” Nym asked in her honey sweet voice. “Have we gone a little too fast for you?”

“No. It’s not that. I…can I just speak to Astarion alone for a moment?”

The twins look puzzled, as does Astarion, but respect your request. You were the client after all. The drow get up and pull on some thin robes quick before leaving the room. Instantly returning to its normal brightness without Nym’s shadow cloaking to cover the room.

“What’s wrong pet?” The vampire asked once you were alone. “Have I done something wrong? I suppose we didn’t really talk about ‘who would be paired with who’ before coming in here. We sort of jumped head first into it like always—“do you want to do this Astarion?”

He seemed taken aback by your questions. Blinking widely and opening & closing his mouth as those usually charming lips struggled to grasp onto some words. “W-Wh? Of course I do. I said I wanted to didn’t I!”

“You also said you weren’t comfortable with this just yet.” You reminded him.

Astarion huffed, annoyed, and moved to sit cross legged on the bed. No longer in one of his sensual poses. “That was before….”

“It was literally a few days ago.”

Though it may have felt like months, or eons, since you started off on your journey, it had really only been a short time since you had been traveling together. The experiences, the danger, the trauma, the trials. It all made it seem like the two of you had known each other much longer than you had. All your lives, it felt sometimes. In reality, the conversation you were talking about and the defeat of Cazador had only been just shy of a tenday ago. “I just want to make sure you’re ok with this. You just seemed…distant a while ago.”

Astarion doesn’t even bother to deny it or make a joke about how physically close he was too you. ‘How can I be distant when I was just moments from being inside you?’ You can almost hear his voice say in your mind. “I’m…not..not ok with this.” He told you honestly. “I thought I would be more ready with this. With Cazador gone…I thought things would be different. I would feel different.” You remember his words right after it happened. About feeling numb. After that he seemed to be back to normal. His usual charming, chipper-ish self. What a fool you had been to believe charlatan’s lie.

You reach out a hand and clasp it around one of his, hanging loose in his lap. “You don’t have to rush things.”

“You just seemed so excited.” He told you. Glancing out of the corner of his eyes to catch your gaze before looking down at the ornate blanket under him. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Telling me no isn’t ‘disappointing me’ Astarion.” You reach up from his hand to his handsome face. Cupping his cheek to look at you. You don’t want to force him, but you need him to look into your eyes for this. “I don’t ever want you to do anything you don’t want to do. This isn’t about what I want. It’s our relationship. And if you’re not ready for sex, or just not ready to have sex with hot drow twins, then I understand.”

Astarion scoffed once at your joke. Reaching up to take your hand in his. “I don’t hate sex you know.” He told you. “I just…don’t think I’m ready for group sex yet. Maybe I never will be again. It’s sick but…sometimes even when I was doing it for Cazador, I couldn’t help but like the attention. To have all those people ‘love me’ for a little while.” You knew that he knew that none of them truly loved him. They loved his body. They loved his charm. They loved what Astarion could do for them in the moment to make them feel pleasure, with no regard for his feelings, and that wasn’t love. “I don’t think I need that anymore. Others, I mean. With you…I know what it’s like to be really loved. And it feels better than all that ‘love’ put together. So maybe I really don’t need anyone else anymore.”

You felt your heart swell in your chest. With his vampire hearing he must be able to hear it but doesn’t comment on it. You lean in to give Astarion a kiss and he meets you halfway. It’s slow. Passionate. Deep. The kind of kiss that makes your lungs burn for air and the space between your legs ache for something more.

“We don’t have to do this you know.” You told him when you break away for air.

“I know.” He told you back. “I want to.”

His arms wrapped around you and suddenly you were on your back against the bed. The speed of the sudden shift in perspective making your head spin. Almost as much as the vision of Astarion hovering over top of you. His intense gaze. His hard body. The smell of his musk mixed with that cologne he wears washing over you. Stealth be damned in the face of self-care. It’s all Astarion. And he’s all yours.

You crane your next up to kiss him again, and again he comes down to meet you. Your lips crashing into each other. Your teeth connecting with his fangs now & then as you both seemed determined to reach even the deepest corners of your mouths. Wrapped in each other’s arms you can feel that Astarion was serious about wanting this. His erection hot against your belly and you shutter. Thinking about it being near your belly inside you.

He broke free of your lips and kissed a trail down your jaw towards your neck. You let out a full body shutter this time when you feel his fangs just whisper over the skin of your throat. Astarion’s deep chuckle coming up to your ear. Clearly amused and clearly aroused that you had been trained so well by your vampire lover to enjoy his teeth at your neck now.

His kisses go lower until they reach your breasts. His tongue was hot while his fingers were cold. The contrast making you moan. “Gods, you’re beautiful.”

Astarion shifted lower. Kissing over your ribs, your stomach, your naval, your hips. During the times you had had sex before, Astarion had always been thorough. But now it seemed like he was on a mission to map out your body. Relearn every part that made you moan or twitch. Find those weak spots that only he could find with the same precision as one of his daggers.

By the time he came to rest between your legs, you were already quivering. Between Nym earlier, and now this agonizing long path Astarion had built for himself, you felt ready to burst at even the slightest touch to your apex. You don’t, however, when his tongue caressed your wet folds. But your back ached off the bed like you had been possessed. Calling his name like some kind of prayer that would save you from this possession.

That skilled tongue, in more than just insults, licked over your entrance. Teasing the sensitive nub at the top of it with just the tip. The lapping at your folds slicked wet with your juices. You felt like you would go mad from the lust burning inside you.

On instinct you reach down to grab at Astarion’s hair. Blindly searching for purchase somewhere, in an attempt to ground yourself in this maelstrom of arousal, but realize quick what you were doing and let go. You don’t want to hurt him. The sound that came from Astarion, however, was not one of pain. If you could interpret it from the way his head bucked up against your hand. You actually couldn’t hear the sound fully as it was muffled by your cunt. You moan and grip his hair again, hopefully with less force this time.

The silk tresses indeed keep you grounded, but do nothing to stop the burning inside you.

One more flick of that sharp tongue over your clit and you were coming undone. Back arched, legs shaking, holding onto Astarion as he seemed committed to working you through this and drinking you down.

By the time your shakes had subsided, Astarion was already on top of you again. His face clean, although you could barely tell. Those red orbs of his were staring at you so intensely that it was hard to focus on anything else. You felt about as pinned to the mattress by his gaze as if he had gripped your hands above your head. “I’ve never wanted anyone in my life the way I want you.” The hand not keeping him upright above you reached down to your thigh and lifted it up next to his hip. “May I?”

“Yes Astarion.”

He probably could have asked you for anything at that moment. All of the camps gold? Sure. The Moonlight Glaive Dame Aliyn gave you? Where should you leave it. Your soul? He already had it.

The fact that he wants what you want, to be one at this moment, was more than a happy coincidence you were more than willing to abide. You were moments from begging Astarion to be inside you before he asked. Thrusting his cock inside you quickly after your reply to the sound of your unabashed moans.

In the past, when you and Astarion have had sex, his movements are always controlled. He would thrust his hips in a very precise manner. Built on technique he had likely developed over decades and hundreds of lovers to bring the exact amount of pleasure to bring them to climax. He’s done it to you too before. And he always seemed pretty proud of himself.

Now, however, Astarion was fucking into you like a mad man. His thrusts were hard and fast. As if with every thrust he was trying to get deeper inside you. Or not thrusting at all as he rolled his hips against you. Like those few seconds of being not completely inside you was too much to bear. You hold on to him tight with your legs and your fingers. Nails scratching at his back at one particularly thrust, causing Astarion to moan your name in your ear.

You catch a glimpse of his face when you open your eyes. Twisted closed in pleasure for so long that you almost had to open them to prove you could again. The look on his face made you moan and the walls around his quiver. Before where he looked a million miles away, he now looked like he couldn’t be more present and focused on you. Like no one else in the world existed but the two of you.

You pull him down into a kiss. Messy and hot. Your lips sliding over each other as it was hard to keep them together with Astarion thrusting the way he was. “Astarion…” you call out to him through labored breath, “I’m going to…I’m gonna cum.”

The vampire just groaned. No witty comment of ‘cum for me my love’ or ‘lets die a little together then’ like usual. Instead, he just held on to your hips tight and continued thrusting until he all of a sudden stopped inside you. Your own orgasm following close after.

The two of you collapsed onto the bed. Exhausted. You haven’t been this worn out since going through Shar’s temple. But this was much more enjoyable. “We should probably get going.” You look down at Astarion, who lifted his head from your chest and shoulder where he had been resting to look at you. “These brothels charge by the hour. Gods know how long we’ve been in here now, but I’m sure if we stay any longer, they’ll have us working off out depts to the clientele.”

You chuckle a little at the joke. “Ok. I guess I can’t keep you all to myself forever.”

“I never said that.” The cheeky grin on his face had a softer hue to it than normal as he sat up. Taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. “Just not in a place that would cost us all our coin.”

You both untangle from the bed and clean up a little with the water & rags provided, before you dress and head out the door.

Astarion was much more well versed in leaving brothels. Knowing to keep his head down and keep moving until you made it out the front door. You, however, were not aware of this rule, and catch sight of Nym and her clever smile just before you make it down the stairs.

“Hey, um…sorry about…you know…kicking you out…stealing your room….”

The drow lifted one delicate hand to silence your apology. “You needn’t apologize. I was listening at the door.” She let out a lyrical little chuckle at your probably mortified look. “Don’t be so embarrassed. This is a brothel. There are clients far and wide that pay for such a service.” But you were sure the parties were in on it; you want to say back to her. “But, I sell love for a living and what you two have well…it’s special. To have such passion, but also respect for one another, is a rare thing. You should cherish it. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed in being able to taste just a bit of it, but I would never want to get in the way of what you have.”

You thank her for your understanding and compliment. You tell her to keep the money, not that she made any offer to give it back to you, and move to catch up to Astarion. Who was waiting for you outside the door. “Was she heartbroken?”

“Oh, devastated.” You told him as you linked your arm around his to head back to Elfsong and meet up with the other. “Are you alright though?”

“Hm…I am.” He replied after a moment of thought. “I don’t think I’ve ever been as ‘alright’ as I am right now.”

“That’s not just the sex high talking, is it?”

Astarion laughed. “No. I think not. But I would be willing to test the theory though. Ask me again in a few hours. Then, tonight, when I come to have you again, you can ask me once more. We’ll go from there.”

You blush at Astarion’s explanation of his ‘scientific testing’ method. You wondered if you had perhaps some kind of beast in Astarion. More than just a hunger for blood that lay below his vampire surface. You just hoped you had the stamina for both.

[lunastrophe]

Drow Lore 🕷️ Gender Roles

About gender roles in a Lolth-sworn drow society, based mainly on Drow of the Underdark:

🕷️ Gender Stereotypes - drow females are seen as "stronger, smarter, and more emotionally controlled than males"; males are viewed as "spiritually, intellectually, and physically inferior, useful mainly for physical and skilled labor, and for breeding". A male drow may be seen as superior to a member of any other race, but he is inferior even to a female drow of lower status.

🕷️ Way Of Lolth - Queen of Spiders has, "over the course of drow mythology and history, taken multiple consorts, all of whom have been eventually discarded". It is unclear if this is the cause of Lolth’s opinion of males or a symptom of it, but according to Way of Lolth, female drow are seen as holier and more devoted to the Goddess, and much more worthy to be her servants.

🕷️ Parenting - in a Lolth-sworn drow society, mother has the sole right to decide the fate of her child, including the right to kill it if she deems it weak or incompetent. Drow mothers, especially in noble houses, typically have little to no affection for their children and they rarely raise them (especially their sons) themselves. They usually assign this task to their older daughters or to other females with lower social status.

Male drow generally do not participate in raising children and they are not even permitted to perceive the child they sired as "theirs". Some "weak-minded males might enjoy playing with their spawn," but they are allowed to do it only in presence of female nurses or servants who "keep a watchful eye on them" (Dragon Magazine #298) - most likely to make sure that the male and the child will not get attached to each other too much, and that the child will not be influenced by him in any significant way.

When a male child becomes old enough to start his training as a wizard or a warrior, his mother may appoint his sire as his mentor. Female children are not obliged to treat their sires with respect and they are usually mentored by other females.

🕷️ Career - typically, female drow are trained to be clerics of Lolth and to hold positions of power, especially if they are highborn. Priestesses "interpret and disseminate the will of Lolth, conduct rites and rituals to honor the dark goddess, and technically have the authority to demand anything in her name."

Male drow often hold little power, but not all of them are mere property (even if many females see them as such). Some of the most skilled crafters, warriors, and arcane casters among the drow are male. Since males are constantly at risk of being discarded by their female leaders, only those with skills and abilities that are not easily replaceable can be relatively confident of their positions. This inspires, or maybe rather forces many of them to excel.

Among non-nobles, male and female drow can hold similar roles: they can be household servants, shopkeepers, warriors or artisans, regardless of their gender. "The males tend more toward physical labor and the females toward skilled crafts - not because females are weaker, but because they often have more opportunities to choose their own path than males do - but this is only a tendency, not a societal constant."

For more of my drow lore ramblings, feel free to check my pinned post 🕷️

[eggedbellies]

The Underdark Blessing

Wordcount: 1986 Kinks: Ovi, eggpreg, breeding, webbing?, drider, cumflation (technically). Synopsis: In the deep underdark, a drider waits to give her clutch to the next prey to come along. The Goddess honours her with two strong orcs.

Thank @daddymakesitbetter for this one, folks!

The underdark; her place of sanctuary, darkness, welcoming. She skittered through tunnels and across walls as if it was nothing, despite the bulk of her form. Slender chitinous legs, round and smooth abdomen, and of course, her Drow half. The dark elf form of her upper body was graceful and slender, bereft of clothes or any of the trappings of an old forgotten society. Few were as blessed as she; the most loved of any spider. For she carried a great weight, bearing down her body, slowing it’s elegant movement. Whilst her form ached oh so heavily for relief, she must be patient. For if she waited, then it would come. Prey always came eventually.

The daylight never reached down here; but something else did. Settled high and out of sight, a foot resting on a guidewire, she felt it. Vibration. Not quite in her trap yet, but a sign… shifting, peering through her jet black eyes, there. A group, it seemed. Her fangs drooled, eager, and she had to hold calm, steady. Bhakiss was patient, as with all things. They were blundering along – such big, heavy bodies. They would hold many of her young, yes… if only they would fall to her trap. So delicate had she strung the wires, surely they would not notice until too late…

She felt the first twang, as the webbing caught. A confused mumble, a rough gasp – and the web began to sing, the fighting of her heavy body, forcing it to the limit of it’s power. They were speaking, deep voices that rumbled oh so pleasantly through every part of her chitinous body. In this darkness, often they carried flaming brands, but this group seemed not to have them – good, good. Confident, perhaps; or they saw well in the dark, like her… the voices were becoming more frantic as she began to carefully move across the ceiling, eyes fixated on her great web. And there they were, oh, what a perfect gift, a kindness from her most generous Goddess.

Both of the women were completely, helplessly tangled. Their leather armour askew, weapons out of reach, hair sticky, arms spread. The perfect fools, both of them throwing all of their energy into resisting her web. Exhausting themselves. She waited, just out of sight, long white hair curling around her shoulders, until they began to sag. And only then did she carefully lower herself, settling her legs onto the ground. As expected, her appearance surged them to energy again – hands so helplessly held that every stretch towards a weapon only trapped them more. With her own ability, well, it was beyond easy – stepping onto her web, moving to sweep the weapons away, casting the foul iron into the abyss. And they shouted, so loud, so strong… perfect to carry her young.

“Oh, sweet voice.” Bhakiss whispered, voice forever dry and sibilant, since her fangs had taken root and she needed so little to talk now. “I cannot wait for you to both sing.” and she laughed, as soft and rough as old leaves dancing in a breeze. They shared a dark eyed glance, full of fear, and oh, that was as delicious as anything else. The slightly smaller of the two was first; building a heavy mat of webbing, drawing it with expert legs over her body, trapping arms to sides and making her a helpless bundle – but leaving her face exposed, trailing a fingertip down that jawline. Lifting the wrapped orc, she drew back, scurrying away. The other shouted, starting to thrash again – crying out for her compatriot, so unaware of what awaited them both.

Up, up, over the walls, a little slower with her new toy, she slid into the gap that opened into her own den – mats of webbing made it comfortable, and old bones, still sticky, littered the ground. For this one, she began to spin – sticking her to the wall with powerful strands. Leaning in, sniffing at her neck, ignoring the cries and attempt to bite. Long dark hair had fallen from it’s ties, forcing her neck at a strange angle – all the easier. So carefully, now, she sunk her fangs in. Venom – she had several, of course, but Bhakiss was careful, making sure to only drip the most potent of aphrodisiac into her system. The orc cried out, of course, in terror – unaware of what a beautiful thing was about to occur. As she drew back, stroking her hands over that face again, the drider chuckled – then turned to sweep away. The exhausted larger one was easy enough to move, no fight left – and she was strung up onto the opposite wall. The spider queen had been so kind to her… so very kind.

They were both dosed; by the time she had gotten the second to the wall, her hair lighter and fairer, her complexion softer, the first one was starting to pant. Flushing. So much interesting variation in these soft creatures… it was a fascination to her. But the needs were becoming hard to ignore, and she could not hold on much longer – this blessing would have to be taken, as greedily as she would, for why would she have been given it if not to grasp firm? Carefully, she began to peel away the webs on the slighter one. Panting now, and yet still trying to yell, to complain, to fight …

“Ascen, are you – are you okay?” the larger one called, breathless herself. Their words were something she barely recognised any more, but it was a language that they had spoken regularly, once. A foggy, distant, unimportant memory. “I’m burning,” Ascen called back, gasping, “I can’t think – so hot -”

“I’m going to get us – out of here,” the larger groaned, clearly losing her own fight, and the drider hissed her own laugh. The leather armour was falling away so easily with the swipes of her claws – baring the underclothes, and then, with a well placed snip – it all fell away. Tight little breasts, held usually so far away – strange, fascinating things. And her hole, already dripping and ready, shining with fluid, catching in her soft hairs. Yes… good. Bhakiss leant down, licking a stripe across her taut belly. Strong, yes, and soon to be swollen…

“You are… a good toy. A great blessing. You will sing the praises of the Spider Queen for me.” she rasped. She couldn’t wait any longer. The other was crying out behind her, as she lifted her body up – the immense spider abdomen hanging easily on the wall. Her ovipositor, unable to be contained, had slipped out; dripping and oozing with it’s own heavy slick and aphrodisiac. It wasn’t ready to release cargo just yet, and whilst it ran like a hose, long, slender, rubbery and ridged, it would fit easily inside the orc. She slapped it down against her swollen lips, causing a rough gasp from Ascen. Followed swiftly by a moan, and oh, yes, what music, as the laden tool stroked it’s aphrodisiac into her most sensitive skin. Unable to see, it took a few long moments before she finally drove home – and the orc howled in pleasure. Gutteral at the end, body trying to buck despite how well attached it was to the wall. A few well placed thrusts, and Bhakiss was panting herself, feeling as that thick pussy sucked down every inch of her length. It must be pushing her to the limit, and oh, what a gift, what a beautiful gift – she began to move, a steady but rough pace, feeling the squirming orc below her.

She had to remember not to break this one too thoroughly; if they were too full, after all, they would not be able to walk away to spread her young…

The cries had turned into moans behind her; squirms and whines of frustration. Trapped as she was, after all, the larger of the orcs would be unable to pleasure herself, relieve any of the deep burning. She must be so jealous of this toy, the one now singing so very beautiful as Bhakiss kept up each rolling movement, immense abdomen bouncing, body building up. Like a kiss from her Goddess, pleasure flowed through every inch of her form – and her tool began to thicken. It was spreading, and the orc was howling as she clenched, and then stretched, and couldn’t clench any more, as every inch of the thick ovipositor was pushing to her limits. The trembles in her body uncontrollable, and the drider felt a wave of joy herself – that she had given such a great feeling to her toy. It would take well, yes.

And now her mind hazed, clawed hands gripping the wall, as the first wave rolled down. Thick cream and sticky goo – a gentle bed for her young. Ascen cried out, twitching – her back not arching, for it could not, but instead, each pulse stretching her. Turning muscles to soft curves; filling her belly. And then the next wave began. She must be most careful, here; each deserved their share. The grunts and moans matched the noises from her toy; the tennis ball sized egg rolling down, a hold, and then a pop, pressure releasing – and over, and over, and over again. Each egg slithering down to where she had kissed their womb, and settling inside. The moans had become jumbled pleas, for more, for release, for everything. Yes, the goddess would be so very happy with her loyal servant…

Sliding out, slowly, her member drooled onto the floor; a quick wad of web, sealing off to make sure not a single egg would get loose. Not that Ascen was in any way able to object, now; eyes glazed, body twitching as she rode the utter joy of being filled. Halting only to gently carress and lay a swift kiss on that swollen orb, the drider turned to her other. There would be less build up here, because her body was trembling with holding back, but it mattered little. Rough slashes to release her from clothes, and the orc was shaking violently, her hole so wet and ready that long strands were already falling; the webbing had become slick rather than sticky. When the drider sunk all the way in one move, she howled with the sensation, legs jerking. Leaning down, Bhakiss stroked her claws over that flushed, glazed, most beautiful of faces.

“Yes. Sing. Sing your love to the spider Goddess.” she murmured. The drooling words were barely lucid, but she rocked, feeling the worship within them. Oh, yes. Yes. Her cock was already swelling, filling, it’s thick goo tumbling out, eggs already loosening onto it, more wild and haphazard as she thrust, hard enough to bounce the orc against the web that held her. Rough fucking, feeling her ovipositor catch on a swollen clit, both of them moaning and begging and pleading to her queen together as the rest of her cargo fell out. Packing and swelling and growing, every one sunk deep and then, finally, with a shudder, she realised… she was empty. Tender abdomen twitched, claws struggling to grip onto the rock, a few final thrusts to send waves of raw joy through her… and she slid to the ground, ovipositor slipping loose, slowly withdrawing to her body. She leant in, kissing the orb that hung in front of her, stretched and reddened green skin. Such life squirmed within…

“Oh, Goddess,” she mumbled, thickly. “Thank you… for this blessing…” on shaking legs, she climbed again, settling heavily onto her resting web. Her body ached in the most wonderful ways. Her toys moaned, singing so gently for her as their brains began to drop to sleep too, packed and lost in orgasmic pleasure. In the morning, she would release them to waddle their way back to the underdark… lay her eggs in the soft dark places… and maybe this time, some of them would hatch…

[meanbossart]

Love Drow's camp greetings, but now I've got to know-- what would his romance path look like?

(This was a REALLY FUN thought experiment, thanks for asking about it!)

You'd get approval points by: -Picking the joke dialogue options, especially if they're dark or crass. -Succeeding intimidation checks. -Starting fights no-questions-asked with characters that don't immediately show you respect. -Defying authority. -Antagonizing drows, githyanki, mindflayers and goblins. -Being friendly towards animals. -Showing willingness to do what the dream visitor suggests. -Notable boost if you let him take on the Loviatar priest in your stead.

You get disapproval by: -Disclosing to people that you're infected with the tadpole. -Agreeing to help NPCs who aren't offering to get rid of your parasites. -Some deception checks (he doesn't always realize you're lying). -Being distrustful/pushy with Shadowheart. -Siding with the absolute. -Trusting or empathizing with the Emperor at all after he reveals himself (Yes, he will leave you if you bang the squid). -Massive point loss if you don't let him take on Orin on his own.

[More elaboration underneath the cut, CW for terrible relationship dynamics and implications of sexual coercion, especially within the context of BDSM.]

He can be persuaded to allow you to have a one-night-stand with Halsin, but will not agree to a three-way relationship or long-term arrangement.

He will stay with you if you sleep with Mizora without the need to roll for anything, but you will lose a lot of approval.

He will agree to a four-way with the twins at Sharess Caress if you ask him about it, but only after you complete his quest. If he has lost to Orin he will kill the twins during the act. If he has accepted Bhaal, he will ask if you want to kill them with him, but you can refuse/dissuade him from doing so.

In regards to his personal interactions, you would usually get choices between antagonizing him, expressing fear, not taking him seriously at all, or making flirtatious advances.

He's neutral/disapproving towards flirtation prior to triggering a romance (though he still reacts flattered). He's neutral/approving of not being taken seriously and/or being feared, as long as the PC is being somewhat facetious and not expressing outright distrust or doubt toward his capabilities. Basically, as long as what you're saying implies that he's formidable, or makes him laugh, he will like it.

After the romance is initiated, he will enjoy flirtatious dialogue options that put him in the role of the desired, compliment his looks/abilities, or express general affection. You would also get options that paint him in a kind of "sexually predatory" light - he doesn't like those.

You could encourage him to embrace his Urge at the start of the campaign for approval, then he flips to wanting you to discourage it after it grows outside his control. If he accepts Bhaal, this switches it back to where he approves of it being encouraged. If he loses to Orin, he will just agree with you whether you tell him to give into his Urges or keep fighting them.

You can break up with him at any point unless he has accepted Bhaal; In that case, he won't agree to it and say that when he takes over the brain you won't have a choice on the matter. The only way to keep him from betraying you during the ending is to either kill him or staying in the relationship with him and dominating the brain together.

As for the actual romance scenes, it'd be similar to Astarion's route where you get to sleep with him right away, then the following interactions are more focused on other forms of intimacy and developing the emotional side of the relationship. You would get the option to push for more sex every time, which he would turn down out of fear of what the Urge might do if he goes along with it - if you keep pushing even after that, it gets you disapproval.

During the scene that locks the romance path (prior to arriving at Baldur's gate) you can persuade him to have sex, and if you succeed he will lose control and try to murder you during the act. The only way to survive it is to kill him instead. You can be resurrected if you lose (he cannot) but he then breaks up with you.

The "themes" of his romance are supposed to allude to the different dynamics of a maso-sado/dom-sub relationship. If you push him to pursue Bhaal you are setting yourself up for a 24/7, lifelong arrangement. the relationship is reduced entirely to your sexual desire for each other, the pushing of boundaries with no limits, and constant one-upmanship. You are no longer allowed (and outwardly mocked) for displaying any tenderness that isn't sexually charged, and he will become angry with you if during your night together following the finalization of the quest you don't pick the aggressive/violent options during intimacy.

If he loses to Orin, he becomes entirely emotionally dependent on the player character, willing to bend to your every will and latch onto the PC as his new master whether or not they agree to it. He is terrified of his fate and desperately wants to please you so you don't abandon him before he loses himself. You can either take advantage of this and revel in the power you have over him, become frustrated, or demonstrate patience and try to encourage him to hold onto some individuality. You can also just kill him, which he will allow you to do through dialogue options at any point. During the romance scene that follows this path, you can only have sex if you restrain him completely first.

If he refuses Bhaal, you get yourself a quiet, cocky, but loving weirdo who enjoys play-dynamics a healthy amount but is ultimately in it because he likes you as a person. He's willing to compromise on the maso-thing as long as you don't put him down for it, and it is implied that while things may not be perfect, you are both willing to work on it through mutual understanding and patience because the relationship is based on more than just burning desire or co-dependency.

[brabblesblog]

To be loved.

A fix-it of sorts to that moment in Sharess’ Caress with the drow twins. Includes a tiny amount of Halsin.

Astarion x F!Tav

Angst, comfort, and smut.

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

Thanks to @elora-the-slutty-songstress for the opportunity to take on this idea!

I first noticed it whilst Nym was tongue deep in me. I had been watching Astarion pound into Sorn, and it had been a majestic sight. My hand grips Halsin’s hair quickly, a gesture for him to stop sucking on my nipples and watch.

The druid lets out a soft, questioning groan as he lifts his head up to meet my gaze. Halsin’s chest heaves, and he takes a moment to tamper down his arousal before he speaks.

“Yes, my heart?” he asks. I nod over at Sorn and Astarion.

“I think we need to stop this right now.”

Halsin follows my gaze. He notices it too, that blankness in Astarion’s face as he drives his hips again and again into Sorn. It had been three weeks or so after Cazador’s demise, and ever since that night in the graveyard, Astarion had seemed fine. I had even slept with Halsin once, a decision I wasn't sure was the best, in all honesty, but Astarion had taken it all with a grace and acceptance that made me fall all the more in love with him.

“Sorn. Nym.” Halsin’s voice breaks through the sounds of sex - the ragged breaths, moans, and slapping of flesh. “I would very much appreciate it if I could get a moment with you two alone,” he says. The twins raise their eyebrows, surprised at the sudden change in plans, but I nod at Nym as she lifts her head up from between my legs, and with my approval they both move off to approach Halsin.

Sorn takes one look at Astarion and moves away. For a second, Astarion’s hips pump into air, as it takes him a bit to realize Sorn had moved. Astarion blinks, twice, then his eyes sharpen.

“What in the hells-“ he begins to say, then notices the twins arm in arm with Halsin. He also notices me looking at him with an expression that told him I was concerned for him. He sighs. He had ruined it, yet again.

Halsin puts an arm around each twin. “Come, and let’s get a larger room than this. We’ll need it if you two are to see my ursine trick.” At those words, the drow are immediately convinced, and I watch them as the three quickly put on clothes and make their way out of this room and into the adjacent one.

Halsin gives me one last look before he does. Make sure he’s okay.

I nod, and then as the door shuts, finally turn my attention to Astarion.

He sits on his knees, and as I approach he opens his arms to let me in. I hug him tightly.

“I thought you wanted to have some fun,” he murmurs into the crook of my neck. I shake my head.

“Not when you’re not having fun, Astarion. And before you say anything - I can tell.”

That shuts down his attempt to deflect, and he lets his mouth hang open. We two both pull away from the hug, and he takes a moment to collect his thoughts.

“It felt like a good idea to try, but I think I may have bitten off more than I could handle at the moment,” he says quietly. “Halsin is one thing, but having even more people..”

“I’m sorry,” I say, and I take his hand, squeezing it gently. I want to hold him tight and shield him from the world, from his own mind, but I know I cannot. And that I should not, unless that is what he wants.

Astarion considers the room, his eyes scanning it. He then considers his own cock, laying there against his lap, still half-hard. It did feel good, and he did want to do something.

“Ban,” he says. “It would be a waste to have paid for this room, and not to fully use it, don’t you think?” He tries to smirk, his hands flying to my waist, tugging me close.

“We can afford to lose the gold. It’s not a big deal,” is my reply. I try to be careful, knowing that he might just be doing this to please me. I put both hands on his shoulders, meeting his gaze. “You don’t have to do anything. We can just go.”

He frowns, then shakes his head. “No, I.. I do think I want to do something. At least, something with you. Just you.” He swallows past a small lump in his throat. “After all, I ruined it,” he adds in a small mumble, spoken so softly I barely can hear it.

“Just - no.” I shake my head at him. “Astarion, look at me.” The sternness is back in my face as I cup his cheek. “You did not ruin it. This was the point of it all. To have fun, sure, but more importantly, to see how you were doing. You tried, you saw that it was too much, and that is that. If you want more, if you truly want more - that can be arranged. But I do not want you to do it just to placate me or whatever other messed up idea you have. Okay?”

As I speak, I see his expression soften. He realizes he’s safe here, he’s heard, and that makes him calm down and let his walls down. The apprehension is replaced with a genuine smile, and he covers my hand on his cheek with his own, feeling my knuckles.

“Okay, darling,” he acknowledges. “I still do want you, though.” He looks down between his legs, giving his half-hard cock a glance. Then he drags his eyes across my body, from my mound all the way up to my breasts, and finally my face. His expression says it all - says that he’s still hungry and wanting.

“Use your words, my love,” I say, my hand leaving his cheek to rest on his chest. My other hand moves down to grip his waist, my thumb tracing circles on his obliques. “What do you want? I need specifics.”

“I want.. to be loved,” he whispers, his eyes boring into mine. “I want to be pleasured, to feel you want my pleasure as much as you want yours.”

I laugh. “Easy. I’ve always felt that way.” I know that even with his countless sexual encounters, he barely got off. “I’ll make you come so hard you’ll forget your own name. How does that sound?”

“Sounds wonderful, my love,” he says, his voice dropping into a purr. He moves off of his knees, and shuffles backwards until he’s sitting at the top of the bed, his back to the headboard. As I crawl towards him, he wraps a hand around his cock and strokes a few times, just to bring it back up.

My hand covers his, and I stop him. “Let me,” I whisper. I sit between his spread legs, one hand on his cock and the other reaching up to stroke the planes of his pectoral muscles. I feel them flex as he reacts to my touch, as his cock twitches in my grasp. He lets out a shaky exhale, his eyes falling shut.

“Just enjoy the feeling,” I murmur. “Tell me how good my hand feels on you.” I stroke him from the root to tip, swiping my thumb at the tip to capture the precum, and spreading it along his whole length as I stroke back down. He’s leaking, his cock feeling exquisitely hard and warm on my palm. The pink flush on its tip almost makes me want to rush it and just sit on it, but I hold myself back. This isn’t for me.

Astarion doesn’t speak. He lets his body tell me instead, his hips canting upwards involuntarily to fuck my hand. His hands grip the sheets, and a small whimper escapes him. He’s incredibly present, and every moment drags like eternity in his mind. Finally, he finds his words.

“More,” he groans. “Please.”

“Of course.” I shift to lean down on him, and lick the tip, swiping my tongue over his slit to taste him. His musk, mixed with the salty precum and the heady scent of arousal are almost overwhelming. He hisses as I lick him, the surprise of the sensation making his hips buck hard. I smile and then move my mouth over him, taking in the head. My tongue presses against his frenulum, feeling the ridges there. My hand keeps stroking at the base, and I work to sync my hand with my mouth’s movements.

That move earns a whine from those delectable lips. His hand moves from the sheets to grip my hair instead, pushing me down deeper against his cock. Astarion’s hips roll, the rhythm uneven and desperate, seeking the heat and wetness of my mouth more than anything else. The wet, obscene sounds drive him closer and closer to the edge, and his ears flush pink as he fights the urge to come right then and there. His eyes still remain closed, enjoying the sensation - enjoying being loved.

I let him fuck my mouth for a few minutes, letting his hand on my hair and his hips dictate the pace. The small whines that come from his mouth make me squeeze my own thighs, and I realize I’m soaking wet too. I hum for a moment, and then pull him out of my mouth with a wet popping sound. “Did you want to come like this? Or-”

My words are cut short as Astarion grabs me by the shoulders, pulling me up to straddle him and to catch me in a crushing kiss. His lips part, his tongue seeking out mine, tasting himself. After a moment, he breaks the kiss, meeting my gaze. His eyes are dilated, but the expression is as tender as I’ve ever seen it. The hunger still lies there, but love overwhelms it.

“I want to come inside you,” he says, the words a request voiced as though it were something I could say no to. I nod, and the moment I do his index and middle fingers find my clit and flick it playfully. I hiss, and he moves those two fingers to my entrance, plunging them in. His thumb replaces their spot on my clit, rubbing in circles.

“So wet, darling,” he whispers, leaning in close so that I can feel his breath against my ear. “So ready for me.” His fingers speed up, the pace insistent and forceful, his thumb flicking against my clit with merciless speed. My hips start bucking, fucking myself on his fingers.

“Say it,” he growls, a little bit of that old aggression creeping into his tone. “Say you want me inside you. Say you want me to fuck you, Ban.”

“Fuck me, Astarion. I want your cock inside me. I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t think straight.”

He chuckles, a small, dark sound.

“It would be my pleasure,” he murmurs. He moves his hand off of my weeping cunt, hands grabbing me and lifting me up. In one smooth move, he aims himself against my entrance and lowers me onto his cock, burying himself to the root in me.

I groan as I feel him impaling me, feeling my walls spread to welcome him home. There is no resistance whatsoever; I’m so wet that his length slides in effortlessly. He gasps at the sensation, and we both stay still for a moment, trying to adjust to the feeling before we begin to move.

I move to grasp his shoulders, bracing myself. I move my hips, riding him. My goal is his pleasure, and I am relentless in my attempt to reach just that. Astarion sucks in a breath at the sensation, and his hips hitch for a second, until he manages to figure out my rhythm and match himself to it. His hand goes back to my clit, flicking it with just the right amount of pressure and speed.

His eyes meet mine, and he smiles. “Ride me harder, my love,” he says, and I do so, slamming down harder with every thrust of my hips. The sound of our flesh coming together is drowned out by my own moaning and his, as he slowly loses what little control he had.

Astarion’s breaths come with little whimpers, all semblance of coherency gone now. For once, he has no need to seduce or play a role to get what he wants. It is given, freely, and he relishes it. The hand not on my clit moves to pull my head to his, to touch foreheads.

“I’m close,” he whispers softly. He’s at the very edge, and I can feel his cock twitching inside me as he fights the urge to come. I’m close too, but I would rather him finish first.

I meet his gaze, and our faces are so close the only thing I can see is the crimson of his eyes. I can feel his breath brush over my face as he pants desperately.

“Come for me, Astarion. Give me your seed,” I finally say, and as I do I press my lips against his parted ones. He lets out a loud groan, his hips frantically pumping as he rides out his orgasm. I keep kissing him through it, feeling him coat my insides and fill me up. The fingers he has on my clit lose their rhythm, falling still as he finally lets go.

I wait patiently for him to come to his senses, still riding him, but with a lot more gentleness to my movements. He finally blinks, twice, then takes in a sharp breath.

“That- that was,” he begins, then realizes he doesn’t have the words for it. But it’s okay. He knows I know. He takes a moment, registers where his fingers were, and then realizes.

“Your turn, darling.” He lifts his fingers up to wet them with his saliva, licking and tasting me on them. Then he reaches back down, fingers rubbing and flicking my clit in the way only he knew how. “Do you want it like this, or do you want my mouth?” Astarion offers, his smirk telling me he knew exactly what I wanted.

“Mouth, but I don’t think I’d last in any-” I begin to say, but he laughs and taps my waist, a sign for me to get up. I do so all too quickly, moving off of his now softening cock and laying back down on the bed. As I do, I look down at my cunt, seeing how his spend was spread all over it. He had filled me to the brim.

He looks too, a hungry and amused expression on his face as he moves to position his head between my legs.

“Now that,” he whispers, “is a sight to behold and taste.”

Without another word, he moves down and starts suckling on my clit. His tongue flicks against it as he does, the tip of it insistent and warm.

That coaxes out a moan from me, a soft “Astarion,” as his mouth brings me ever closer to my own climax. He smiles at the sound of his name, and continues his work, his tongue shifting to lap at my cunt instead, starting from my entrance up to my clit.

I’m there, and I let out a strangled gasp to warn him. He takes his cue, and refocuses his attention where it matters most. His lips wrap around my bud again, providing suction and his tongue flicking lazily.

I come, yet again with his name on my lips, and for a moment I lose control of my legs. They jerk, squeezing tightly against his head. I feel myself squirt, gushing against his lips. He laps it all up eagerly, groaning with every pass his tongue makes against my cunt.

As I come down to reality, Astarion lifts his head up and smirks at me. He makes a show of wiping his glistening mouth and chin on the back of his hand, licking off the excess.

“Delicious as always, darling,” he says, but there is a lot more tenderness there than anything else.

I smile softly, and beckon him closer into my arms. He does as asked, laying down with me and placing his head on my chest.

“Did that help?” I ask. “Did it make you feel the way you wanted to feel?”

Hidden from the world, he smiles against my chest.

“You always do, love.” He looks up at me, and I realize it is one of those rare moments where he seems to be at peace.

“Thank you.”

Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @tragedybunny @elora-the-slutty-songstress