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feyascorner · 4 months

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until I come back alive

summary. in which you come back injured from a particularly unlucky battle, and Astarion realizes his feigned affections for you are not feigned at all.

warnings. angst, fluff, Astarion being bad at feelings

pairing. Astarion x GN!reader

a/n. this is super long omg ALSO TYSM for the love on my previous fic! It was my first post so I didn’t realize more than like two ppl would see it!! Kind of scary but also I can write more astarion so oh well 🙏

“The way they look at you is different from the way they look at us.”

Astarion raises a brow at this, glancing at Karlach who adjusts a log in the campfire paying no heed to the flickering flames brushing against her skin. She smiles to herself, genuinely, and he questions if she’s finally gone mad.

“So have you said the big ‘L’ word yet?” she asks excitedly, turning to him with a big grin. He shifts away from her, the increasing heat radiating off her body but she doesn’t seem to care, too busy staring at him expectantly.

“The what?”

“You know! The ‘L’ word,” she says the last part in a hushed whisper, as if it’d be a sin for anyone else to hear. Occasionally it baffles him how childish she can be, though he’d never voice these concerns out loud considering she could snap his poor body in half if she really wanted.

He also knows that she’s more emotionally capable in how she approaches these relationships (though one could argue it’s just innocence)—in ways he’s lost over the past 200 years. Though, he makes an effort to shove these thoughts to the deepest corners of his brain for the sake of his own sanity.

“If you’re speaking of ‘love,’” He emphasizes it with a strange accent. “No. I have not. Nor have they.”

She appears puzzled. “Why not?”

He sighs irritably, bringing a hand to adjust the cuffs on his hand. “Must everything be put bluntly? So glaringly obvious?”

“You love each other, don’t you?”

At this, he falters, just the slightest before plastering his usual grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Love is a wide spectrum, dear. Tav and I are whatever they want us to be.”

A late night partner would be the most positive thing he could refer you to. A fling, an amusement, or whatever words people described the arrangement between the two of you as, he didn’t care for it. He’d given himself to you, and you to him—-physically, at least, and you’d seem more than content with it. In return, he received protection, which was a sufficient payment in return for his hushed words of affection and kisses. A fair trade, he deemed.

Sure, he could’ve chosen anyone else in the camp. But he’d seen the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him, surely dazed at his flirtatious tendencies. You’d been an easy target. A survival tool.

And yes, maybe he’d played with your innocent feelings, but could you really blame him? He’d given you the nights of your life, for something so simple in return. It was a transaction.

Karlach waves a dismissive hand which brings him back to the present, propping herself on her arm behind her. “Life’s too short for that bullshit. Either you love someone or you don’t.”

“Fortunately for me, I have all of eternity,” he snorts. “Unless I were to suddenly lose the unwanted visitor inside my head and step into the sunlight, I’ll be here to watch the world fall and rise a dozen times over I’m afraid.”

“But they don’t,” Karlach frowns. “Tav doesn’t have eternity.”

He ignores the way his jaw clenches. He’s afraid, he thinks, of losing the freedom he’s just gained.

“Did you call me?”

Both the vampire and tiefling turn to your voice, where you stand blankly with an armful of logs clutched to your waist. Karlach opens her mouth to respond, but Astarion is faster.

“Nothing, darling. Just answering a few curious questions from Karlach here.”

“Oh,” you blink at him, shrugging before setting the logs beside the fireplace. “Well, Gale, Shadowheart, and I are going to the village across the forest tomorrow morning to check on the goblins appearing there recently. Won’t be back till noon so don’t wait up.”

“Don’t worry,” Karlach laughs. “I’ll keep the camp in order while you’re gone. If Astarion tries to bite Lae’zel, though, his fate’s inevitable.”

He rolls his eyes, opting to stand from his spot and take your hand. “Come along, darling. Any longer near this damned fireplace and my skin may melt.”

You nod with a smile, waving at Karlach before you follow him into his tent without a word of protest.

Easy, he thinks. Too easy.

He soon finds himself staring up at you from his place, laying his head on your lap as you read through a few scrolls you found throughout the day. He clicks his tongue and you look down, offering that sickeningly sweet smile again. “What’s wrong?”

“You have the most handsome person in this camp on your bloody lap and you want to read?”

You snicker at this, setting the scroll down beside you. “What do you suggest I do? Worship the very eyelashes on your face?”

“My body deserves much more praise than just the eyelashes.”

“Hm…” you pretend to be in thought. “That mole on your face is very obvious too.”

He gasps, immediately shooting upward as he grabs at his own face. “Tell me you’re lying.”

Your laughter rings throughout the tent, airy as you pull his hand away from his face. “I’m kidding, mostly.”

He stares at you as you recollect yourself, finding himself gazing at you far longer than he’d like to admit. Quickly, he adjusts, fiddling with the hand mirror he always keeps under his pillow as he watches you through it. “Karlach spoke of something ridiculous today. She said you were in love with me.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” he rolls his eyes. “That woman lives in a fairy tale I tell you. How she went through 10 years in Avernus is beyond me.”

There’s slight hesitance in your voice, and if he’d not learned your body language early on in your arrangement, he wouldn’t have even noticed it. “Astarion, have you ever been in love?”

He pauses at this, meeting your eyes head on now. There’s a heavier thickness in the air between the short distance between the two of you, and he immediately gauges what you want him to say. A lie readies itself at the tip of his tongue, his gaze searching yours for whatever fantasy that lives behind them.

Instead, your expression is blank. He finds nothing.

“No.” He’s not sure why he responded honestly, but it’s too late to take it back. “Have you?”

You look to the side. “I’m not sure anymore.”

“Anymore?” He shifts his head when you turn your chin further away, avoiding confrontation. “Has someone captured your impenetrable heart as of late? How intriguing—do tell.”

His teasing tone drops when you don’t smile at his usual antics. He’s not stupid—far from it. He knows you’ve begun to fall for him. It’s an obvious result from the 200 years of instinctive flirting he has tucked away in what remains of his soul, and it’s what he intended. What he needed.

The more enraptured you are, the longer he has protection.

He gently tilts your chin toward him, his fang visible through the grin that stretches across his face. “Tell me, pet, do you love me?”

Your eyes drop to his lips. “Do you want me to?”

A bunny caught in the fangs of a fox. It would be so easy to indulge—to go as far as to make you nothing but a puppet he toys with for his own personal gains. He can sense the way your finger twitches, itching to lace them with his own, and the crueler side of him forces his hand to stay put.

He wordlessly leans toward you, his lips grazing against the side of your neck. You shiver at the touch and he smiles wickedly to himself, drinking in the gasp that escapes you when he tilts your neck to the other side, where he usually drinks.

He doesn’t even have to ask. “Just—be gentle. Please.”

“Of course.” He unhinges his jaw, ready to plunge the knives of his teeth into where the sweet liquid gold rushes to your face, his shoulders finally relaxing when—

“I love you,” you whisper under your breath.

He stops.

Though unsure why, he freezes. Completely and utterly freezes.

“Astarion?”

He pulls away slowly, staring at you for a long moment before offering another smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“You look exhausted, my dear. I think that’s enough for tonight.”

“But you didn’t even feed?”

“I can handle myself, darling, as much as I appreciate your worries,” he stands and holds the flap of the tent open, practically a silent demand for you to leave.

He should be ecstatic. Gleaming with joy from being offered a drop of your blood, but instead, he feels knots forming in his stomach. And the longer he watches you, the worst they seem the get.

Hurt flashes across your face and he ignores the sudden tightness in his chest.

“Okay, well,” you say, stepping out hesitantly. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, my dear.”

And as he lies wide awake in the middle of the night with nothing to accompany him but his own thoughts, he finds that all of them are overruled by his endless need for warmth. Not just anyone’s but the one he’s become accustomed to the past few months. No matter how much he curls up in his bedroll, all he can feel is the chill of his own body.

And he hates it more than he expected.

——

By the time he awakens, you’re long gone.

He’s rather productive. Taking walks, gathering supplies, catching up on his reading, he refuses to sit and lie around as the others await for you and your companions to return from the goblin village.

He even entertains sitting through one of Karlach’s dances, which somehow ends up being more entertaining than he’d imagined. While she didn’t fall flat on her face (which he admittedly looked forward to), it burnt through time regardless.

The peace is broken when he hears footsteps rushing toward the camp. He’s memorized everyone’s intervals when sprinting or pacing, so he’s quick to identify Gale and Shadowheart. He listens keenly for your own footsteps.

There are no third pair of footsteps at all.

Shadowheart stumbles into the camp, in a panic compared to her usual self, as she points toward a spot on the ground and snaps at Gale to put something down.

He only sees when she moves out of the way that this something, is rather someone.

You’re writhing in pain, eyes shut in an unconsciousness that’s surely preferable to what you’re feeling. You’re sweating, groaning in your sleep and everyone is immediately rushing to you.

His face would’ve gone pale, if it weren’t for the fact that he was already as ghostly as a sheet.

“What happened,” Lae’zel demands in place of him, and he opts to mindlessly push Gale to the side, who doesn’t say a word from the expression on Astarion’s face. He doesn’t know what he looks like, but from Gale’s reaction, it’s better he never know.

“Damned poison arrows,” Shadowheart hisses. “I’m completely out of magic for today. I need to make an antidote by hand before their condition gets any worse than it already is.”

Astarion brushes the back of his knuckles against your cheek. The creases between your brows soften for the slightest moment before they’re back again.

Lae’zel and Shadowheart are arguing again—something about how one thing would’ve happened if another thing hadn’t. He’s not even sure what they’re arguing about, but in an instant, rage flickers in his chest.

“Do something!” He snaps, suddenly making the camp go quiet. “Or are you just going to stand there and watch them die?”

He suddenly feels a hand grab his, and his eyes shoot down to see your own. Even in your sleep, you reach out to him. Even in the deepest part of slumber, you search for him. It makes him feel like the shittiest and luckiest person alive, especially as the your hurt expression from last night flashes in his mind.

“Help them,” the words spill out against his will, his tone breaking down into something more desperate. “Do something. For God’s sake, anything.”

In the moment, he doesn’t care about protection. He doesn’t give a shit about any of that because the second he’d seen you in genuine pain, it was all he needed to completely forget about the stupid reasons why he approached you in the first place.

All he cared about was your life.

Everyone glances at one another knowingly, but even Lae’zel doesn’t break the silence. Shadowheart spares him a furrowed glare before rushing to gather the antidote.

You only awake hours later. Certainly during the middle of the night, to the ceiling of a tent that’s certainly not your own. You slowly urge yourself to sit up, a pounding headache ringing in your skull, but your worries about it vanish when you hear his voice.

“Quite the nap, darling.”

You snap around to see him on the other side of the tent, albeit only a few feet away from how crunched it is. Fascinating, he thinks, that even with your disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes, he finds you more beautiful than before. “What happened?”

“You nearly died.”

“…how?”

“Poison,” he’s fiddling with his dagger, refusing to look at you. He can’t. In fear of what he might say. “Caused a reasonable panic too. Seems like our companions have grown more attached to you than anyone’s expected.”

You purse your lips, and he quickly mortifies at the exceeding need to part them with his own. You don’t seem to notice. “You too?”

“I was certainly worried our esteemed leader may kick the bucket earlier than anticipated, yes.”

“No, I mean,” you scrunch your eyes sheepishly, and he thinks it’s adorable. Gods he must be going insane. “Have you…grown attached?”

He raises a brow. “You just woke up from a life threatening experience and that’s what piques your interest?”

Your cheeks turn a shade darker. He wants to touch them. “I just…I was worried all day. About us. I got too distracted and of course, that’s on me, but one of the goblins took advantage and—“

He wants to climb into a coffin, guilt eating away at what remains of his organs. But when you fidget with the ends of his bedroll blanket, he can’t tell if his stomach is churning from shame or something else.

You stop, close your mouth, then open it again. “When I passed out, I was just thinking about how I would hate for us to part like that. I didn’t want last night to be our last moment.”

“No,” he says firmly. “While you’d been asleep, I’ve had quite some time to think, darling. And more time to wallow in my self pity for being stuck with an actual weirdo. I mean, do you hear yourself? Worrying about such a stupid encounter while on your deathbed? You should’ve been cursing me with all the strength you had left if you were going to think about me of all people!”

You smile a bit, and he grits his teeth at the way his throat goes dry. “I’m just glad.”

“For getting poisoned?”

“No,” you roll your eyes. “I’m glad I didn’t scare you off by telling you I loved you. I was afraid we wouldn’t talk like this anymore.”

His body wills him to freeze up again. To push you away, and to force the fantasy that his feelings towards you were nothing but manipulative. That you were nothing but a way to survive to him. But no, he couldn’t stand such cowardice any longer. Not after nearly losing you.

You offer him a pathetic laugh. “I don’t expect you to say it back, nor for you to feel the same way. I just—felt like you needed to know. It doesn’t change anything between us I hope. It just felt wrong to keep it to myself any longer and the way you reacted just made me regret it so much-“

He wraps his palm in front of your mouth, his other hand pulling you closer to his side in an instant. With your faces inches apart, he sighs irritably. “As much as I’d like to keep hearing your voice, I can’t stand its contents any longer I’m afraid.”

He lowers his hand, staring straight at your wide eyes as he narrows his own. “I do. Like you, I mean. A lot more than I’d like to admit, quite frankly.”

You blink as if you’re staring at a miracle.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles with a scoff. “I’ve had these feelings for a while now, I just didn’t wish to face them. When you said that to me yesterday, I just didn’t know how to respond, and for that, I am sorry. But losing you—I’m not sure what I would have done, but it’s certainly not a pretty sight.”

Your eyes soften and he’s certain he can lose himself within them for years. “I’ve never heard you sound so—sincere.”

He raises your knuckles to his lips, keeping them close even as he speaks. “I approached you out of necessity, I’ll admit. But it seems you’ve grown on me in a way I haven’t experienced since I’ve turned into a spawn. What you are to me—it’s difficult to describe.” He pauses. “Sometimes, I can still feel my heart beating with you.”

As your fingers brush against the side of his face, he swears he can feel it again. He almost feels warm, maybe even safe. And he’s sick and tired of denying himself of your embrace when death is around every corner.

You’re soon curled up into his chest, with his chin atop of your head. He’s not sure how much time passes—maybe hours, or even days as he continues to observe your face, committing each and every detail to his memory. And when your breathing steadies, falling into deep slumber, he finally has the courage to whisper the words against your hair.

“I love you.”

#astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #light angst #angst with a happy ending #fluff #comfort #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #astarion

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lostinforestbound · 2 months

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Could I request NSFW headcanons for Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to their non-tiefling gender neutral s/o asking if they can worship his body & kiss everywhere especially his infernal features? They want to show him how much they love everything including his horns, ridges, and tail!

You got it! I had to think about these quite a bit, so I hope these turned out as well as I hoped! Apologies for the wait! And feel free to add other ideas too!

The Tiefling Bachelor's Receiving Body Worship

NSFW Under Cut, Minors DNI

Dammon

I would say Dammon is the most secure and comfortable with himself overall, compared to the other two tieflings on this list. Despite snide comments once in while, he's pretty proud of his infernal traits.

When his non-tiefling partner asks if they could explore his traits in the midst of a heated make-out, he doesn't think twice about it and takes off his shirt.

Now, his tail isn't sensitive, some parts of it are even numb due to forge related accidents. His horns aren't particularly sensitive either.

But trace the ridges on his chest and sides, he's a goner. His partner using their nails to tease him is a good way to get him to keen in his throat.

He loves having his partner's hands on him always, he's a very touchy person overall, but this is MUCH different.

This kind of touch really gets him going, especially since he's not used to his ridges getting so much attention.

Pin him against the wall! Kiss, nibble, and lick those ridges and damn, if you want Dammon to get loud, this is the way to do it. He lets his partner have control as much as he can, but the urge to grab them is becoming too much. Especially with praises spilling from their lips.

Eventually, it's too much for him to handle and he switches their positions to take them against the wall. He doesn't last long at all, coming within a minute.

He'll be apologetic and promises to be more patient next time, but he couldn't help it.

"...Could we try that again, soon?"

Rolan

Out of all three Tiefling's, Rolan's infernal traits are the most sensitive. He hates that fact a lot. Why do you think he wears layers under his wizard clothes?

He's very reluctant when his partner brings it up for the first time, and seeing that nervous look that's being shielded by a scrunch of his nose, his partner reassures him that he can just think about it.

When he finally settles on at least giving it a try, he lets Tav gently lay him down on the bed to get started.

He did not expect how much he would love it. Kissing along his sternum, rubbing his horns and ears, tugging his tail; gods, he's already hard just from that.

Stroking his tail makes it quiver and coil in the air, wrapping around their arm and tugging for them to do more. If they grab one of his horns and pulls him into a kiss while they keep stroking, he'll whimper into their mouth.

They'll have to be careful, because if they're patient enough Rolan will come completely untouched from tail/horn stimulation alone.

If he ends up doing so, he is so, so embarrassed. He's worried he just ruined the night by not lasting long. Though he calms down if his partner mentions it was extremely hot.

If Rolan allows it, they'll do it over and over to overstimulate him, and the prettiest sounds come out of his mouth. They'll stop when it becomes painful for him.

He still wants to satisfy his partner. Even if they say that they're more than happy just by watching him fall apart, he'll make it up to them by shoving his face in between their legs, knowing his mouth is good at things other than talking.

Zevlor

When they bring it up to him, he instantly looks like a fish out of water.

He's not inexperienced by any means, he's had more than a few flings/partners in the past. But body worship? For him?? That's new. Are they sure?

With lots of reassurance from his non-infernal partner, he decides to give it a shot, unsure what to expect. He's worshiped their body plenty, but hasn't received some himself before.

While nothing is particularly sensitive, the way his partner looks at all his traits so lovingly and curiously makes him throb in his trousers.

His favorite is his partner straddling his lap with their hands trailing up and down the ridges of his spine. He didn't even realize that part was sensitive until they started to explore the wing impressions on his back.

As they do so, he'll start grinding up into them, nibbling at their neck as he groans at the feeling. Be cautious of grabbing the base of his tail, or it'll be over all too soon, especially when they're kissing his neck at the same time.

The tip of his tail flicks excitedly if they grab both of his horns as they kiss. He finds it as a loving gesture as they thumb the base of them.

When he's panting into their mouth, he'll actually start requesting them to touch certain places. The nape of his neck where the ridges first start to poke out is one of his favorites.

Another place he would love that hasn't been revealed yet is the back of his horn, near the base. Scratch a nail right where the horn meets the skin and he'll start losing it.

After everything is done and they're laying in bed, he'll shyly ask if they could do this again sometime. He ended up loving it.

#forest-writes #dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon x tav #dammon x reader #rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x tav #holy rolan empire #rolan x reader #zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x tav #zevlor x reader

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forgeofthenine · 5 months

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I recently watched some of season two of The Legend of Vox Machina and saw the Gimli episode with the spicy sketch book. Lets say s/o had their own spicy sketchbook and the three Tiefling Bachelors happened to find it?

I've never watched the Legend of Vox Machina, but I had a great time writing this set of headcanons! I will admit, I did also bounce around a couple ideas with the lovely @swordcreature for Dammons headcanons. I hope everyone enjoys <3

NSFW under the cut

The bachelors finding their partners 'spicy' sketchbook

Dammon

Dammon would probably pick up your sketchbook by accident when he's trying to grab one of his own similarly bound books

He knows what it actually is the moment he opens the book, seeing the carefully drawn lines and subtle colour on the page

However, as much as he knows this is an invasion of your privacy, he can't tear his eyes away

There, on the page, is a drawing of him completely naked and leaning back against one of his anvils with a cheeky smile on his face

It's such a shock he can't help but flip through the pages, revealing even more sketches of a scantily clad blacksmith

His entire face is flushed, his tail swishing behind him as he eagerly realises this is how you view him

Absolutely the type to put your sketchbook back but will make suggestive comments that make you wonder if he's seen what you've drawn

It piques your curiosity but there's no way for you to get more information from him

That is until he recreates one of your sketches as a surprise

You walk into the kitchen, finding Dammon in the smallest and tightest pair of boxer briefs he owns, a suggestive grin on his face

Zevlor

I feel like it would actually be pretty fun to outright show Zevlor your spicy sketchbook

Once you guys have been together for a while you realise he's much more sexually liberated than you first thought

That doesn't stop the way his whole body stiffens as soon as his gaze falls upon the picture you drew portraying how he looks while getting head

He's looking at a picture of himself, sketched eyes rolling back and a heavy flush in coloured lead on his face, knowing now thats how he looks as you kneel between his legs

While being slightly embarrassed you've spent so much time drawing these things, it's obvious that he wants to see more and will ask to look at the rest

His nails trace some of the lead lines as he looks at them, particularly on pictures that might include a portrayal of you in it

You can easily tell he likes your lewd drawings in two ways, how Zevlor compliments them and how his pants tent at the mere idea of the things you think of doing to him

You can't really blame him if he carries you off to your shared bed to have his way with you once he's finished admiring your art

Rolan

Rolan is barely looking at the book as he picks it up and flips it open, expecting it to be his tome on illusory magic

You can imagine his suprise when instead he's looking at a picture of him spread over a bed, cock hard as rests against his bare stomach

The book snaps shut before it's near flinged back onto his desk he picked it up from, he can feel the way his ears burn as if fire courses through his veins

He tries to put it out of his mind, distracting himself unsuccessfully with study until you come in and collect your sketch book

As soon as you do, his hand reaches out to wrap around your wrist

You can see the soft blush on Rolans face as he avoids your gaze, brusquely asking if you only drew him in compromising positions

He's even more flustered by the laugh he hears, pulling you in closer to him and actually looking you in the eyes now, asking if you put it on his desk on purpose

There will be plenty of time for you to show him your collection of lewd art after he's done showing you just what you've awoken in him

#bri answers #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon x reader #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #baldurs gate 3 rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #baldurs gate 3 smut #bg3 smut #dammon smut #zevlor smut #rolan smut

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gravidwithlore · 3 months

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Overdue elf breaks into the touring bus of the hot tiefling rockstar he had a fling with just over 9 months ago, desperate to get past his controlling management team to let him know he's going to be a father. While the elf is waiting for the concert to end and for his baby daddy to arrive back on the bus to the surprise of a lifetime, he realizes he's been ignoring the early signs of labor while he focused on his plan to get the tieflings attention. His water breaks just as he hears his baby daddy start to play inside the venue. He's still sure he hold off on giving birth until after he sees their baby daddy again, assuming that since its his first time giving birth, and giving birth to multiples no less, he probably won't be ready to push until the morning. If only he was right.

By the time the rockstar makes it back, he's shocked to see the 'one who got away,' sitting on the now ruined seats of his tourbus, far from the lithe skinny elf he knew 9 months ago, legs spread as far as they can go, crying as he gives into his body's demands and pushes into his pants, the tight fabric keeping his baby's head in a near permanent crown, the oversized band tee he gave the elf now barely big enough to tightly contain his heavy leaky tits. His fertile and gravid heaving dome of a belly uncovered, putting on full display the rippling movements of the rest of his unborn children and the angry contractions taking over his body.The elf isnt even aware of the rockstars presence as his head rolls, hair slicked to his skin with sweat, he babbles in pained desperation, switching between begging his baby to wait for his father and moaning for help to get his pants out of the way. Backlit by the bright lights of the sold-out venue, its the most beautiful sight the rockstar has ever seen. Uncaring for his managers angry reactions behind him, he rushes over to his once-thought-lost love to soothe him and help bring their first born child into the world.

#mpreg #my art #mpreg art #mpreg belly #preg art #preg belly #mpreg birth #birth kink #my ramblings

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lustfulfuchsia · 2 months

Note

i love your work could you make more of the Rolan being bottom lol but do remember to drink water and taking breaks<3

[A/n:I hope you don't mind boy cunt. Thank you for requesting]

Summary:Rolan kept looking at you throughout the night, and when you finally walked up to him, you realized why.

Type:Scenario:Smut:FTM!Rolan X Tiefling!M!Reader

Version: Bg3

!⚠️DNI MINORS AND FEMALE READERS⚠️!

You and your team had killed the goblins and saved the Grove. You didn't expect much out of it. But a party? That was unexpected but welcomed. Throughout the night, you caught Rolans eyes quite offen, having ditched your shirt a bit ago due to the heat. You had just assumed he was looking because you saved him. No other reason. But when his siblings started giggling and mocking Rolan, that's when you became suspicious. You started to hold his gaze longer, holding eye contact until he looked away, which didn't take long. Yet you didn't so anything.

Astarion was giving you an annoyed look, rising his eyebrow when you finally walked over to him.

"What's wrong this time, Astarion" You crossed your arms, your muscles flexing from the sudden movement.

And it caught someone's eye. Astarion gasped dramatically, waving his hand infront of him as he rolled his eyes.

"Oh, you know... you and Rolan are making so much sexaul tension!" Astarion shook his head and took a sip of his drink.

After a moment of looking off he looked back at you, cutting you off before you had a chance to speak.

"Its quite sad really, watching you give Rolan the sexist look you can just for you to walk away, he's probably feeling frustrated. I know I would be" Astarion looked at you with a slightly disappointed look.

"What? No, that's not what's happening here. He's just... no, he's only staring because we saved him, he's probably staring at everyone else to," From next to you, Lae'zel tsked.

Looking over, Lae'zel was now standing next to you and Astarion, looking more disappointed than Astarion... which wasn't unusual.

"That, tie-fling has been eyeing you this whole time, you've been toying with him" Lae'zel looked between you and Astarion before looking over at Rolan. "Look, he's been staring so hard I'm surprised you haven't noticed."

Looking behind you at Rolan, not believing a word, they said you saw him staring at you again. And once again, you held his stare. He shifted, trying to hold your gaze but couldn't. He ended up looking away and glaring at his siblings as they started giggling.

"I'd suggest you make a move, this party is boring anyways" Astarion said, taking another sip of his drink.

Lae'zel agreed, turning to you. You were still staring at Rolan, trying to understand when suddenly Lae'zel gave you a small shove.

"Stop standing there, go get what's rightfully yours" You glared Lae'zel, not sure if that was the right way to put it before walking over to Rolan.

He tensed up as soon as you started walking towards him, trying to look as if he wasn't just staring again. As soon we you got close it hit you, the strong smell of arousal. Coming straight from Rolan. You could smell how wet he was, it was probably seeping through his underwear by now. With a deep breath you looked at his face, staring at his now heavily flushed face.

"Rolan," Rolan gulped, giving you an awkward smile.

His smell was so strong that it seemed to increase the more you stood here. Your mouth watered slightly at the smell, your eyes trailing down to his crotch before back up to his face. After a moment, you couldn't handle it anymore, walking closer to Rolan, you lightly grabbed his waist, pulling him closer so you could whisper to him. Your tail wrapped around his leg before the tip of your tail pressed against his cunt, luckily it was hidden from sight due to his robes.

"You know, I could help you out, all you gotta do is ask" You felt Rolan tremble, trying to grind down on your tail, only to get stopped by your hand gripping his hip.

After a moment of silence, Rolan leaned forward, pressing his forehead against your shoulder.

"Please..." Rolan muttered against your shoulder, gripping your clothes.

With a smirk, you gently tugged at him, pulling your tail away so you could lead him away from the party. Somewhere more private. When you two get far enough away from the camp, you quickly grab his waist, pulling him into a kiss before pushing him against a tree. You groaned into the kiss, grinding your crotch against his own. Rolan moaned into the kiss, his hands wrapping around your neck. You felt Rolan tremble against you, his knees bucking forward as you pressed harder against him. You pulled away, panting against his mouth before stepping back to strip down. Rolan quickly followed, stripping himself as fast as possible. As soon as his last robe was off you were on him, pinning him to the ground as you started kissing down his body.

"Fuck- You smell delicious" You growled against his stomach, causing a shiver to go down his spine

Your mouth found its way to his cunt, pupils growing wide as soon as you saw on wet he was. Looking over at his pile of clothes you used your tail to find his underwear, dropping it onto your hand you started looking at the crotch area, your face filled with amusement.

"Were you aroused all night? I bet every tiefling smelled you," Rolan huffed, spreading his legs wider and moving to lean on his forearms.

"More of a reason for you to hurry up!" Rolan arched his hips up, trying to make himself look more appealing.

You chuckled, tossing his underwear back over to his pile of clothes and getting back to his cunt. You were skilled, too skilled at this. Your mouth worked wonders on him, eating him out like a straved man. Rolan thought you were trying to eat him at some point, with the way your teeth raked over his skin. You sucked harshly on his clit, making him moan and fall back on his back. Rolans hands quickly found your horns, pulling you closer. You groaned against him, causing another loud moan to come from him. It didn't take much longer with your eager mouth on him to make him cum. You leaned back licking your lips clean before hooking your thumb into your pants, tugging them down as you kissed him. Rolan gasped softly as he felt your cock press against his cunt, his pupils dilating as he pulled away from the kiss to look. He moaned softly in response, spreading his legs wider for you to slot yourself between. A soft chuckle came from you, a smirk on your face from his eagerness.

"How long have you been wanting this?" Your voice cut through his thoughts, making him look away from your cock.

"Long enough," Rolan pulled you down for another kiss, it was sloppy and eager this time.

You could feel his pussy rutting up against you, as if he was trying to put you him himself. You shifted your hips, slowly pushing your cock into him. He moaned loudly into your mouth, hands shaking as he gripped your shoulders. You stopped, surprised by his sudden breathlessness.

"Rolan? Is this your first time?" He only nodded, keeping his eyes close as you pushed into him some more. "Well, I guess I'll have to take my time"

Rolan lightly laughed at your teasing tone, knowing you were distracting him as you pushed him. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised by the sight. You were gripping the grass, eyes focused on his chest as and sweat forming on your neck. Heavy pants and your lip between your teeth, it showed how much you were holding back, and to rolan, it was weirdly hot. He stared up at you, teasingly clenching down to see your reaction. Rolan snickered as you inhaled deeply, watching you playfully glare at him. Rolan was instantly cut off with a grind from you, shoving your cock all the way in. He let out a moan, closing his eyes as he gripped your shoulders. You chuckled, leaning down to kiss him and wrap your arms around his torso. That's when you started to move. You started slow, slowly thrusting in and out of him. He let's out soft moans before an annoyed grunt escaped him.

"I'm not made of glass, you know..." Rolan huffed, wrapping his legs around your waist to pull you back in.

You smirked, picking up your pace. Rolan let his eyes close, biting his lip as you went faster and harder. Soon enough, you were going almost too fast for him, his back hitting the ground as loud moans escaped him no matter how hard he tried to hide them. You were getting lost in him, eyes shutting as you loud out loud grunts. Your cock felt amazing, the ridges and heat coming from it was driving Rolan inside, and so was his own heat.

A low growl left your lips, leaning down to roughly kiss him as you slammed your hips into him harder. He was letting out wails and moans a little. His voice was getting raspy and horse, and his silent begs for you to not stop going straight to your dick.

His cunt started fluttering around you, his claws digging into your skin as arched his back to met your thrusts.

"I-I'm close! S-So close!" Rolan yelled out, his voice echoing off the trees to make a beautiful harmony.

You nodded, keeping your pace as you reached down to rub his clit to match your pace. He didn't last long like this, cumming all over your cock with a scream. You came not long after, shooting hot cum into him before slowly pulling out. Rolan panted, letting himself fall limp onto the ground.

You flopped onto him with a smirk, playfully crushing him under you. He let out a mellow as he gripped your shoulders.

"Really? Get off!" His laughed mingled with yours, hugging you close to him as you two rolled onto your sides.

[A/N:I am so sorry this took so long, I've had no energy to write so hopefully I'll get back into it soon. I hope you enjoyed]

#bg3 #bg3 x male reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate tav #bg3 rolan #rolan x tav #rolan x reader #rolan #bg3 smut

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husbandogoddess · 6 months

Text

Fling with a Tiefling comes out in TWO DAYS! Fun fact time!

Fun Fact #5: Karrus is canonically pansexual!

Additionally, you can decide how your night with him ends: with physical intimacy or with cuddles! Allosexual or asexual, Karrus loves you no matter what!

As an ace person, it was important to me to include an option like this in the game. I want more games to value other forms of affection and not treat sex as the only way to prove that you love your partner(s).

#visual novel #english visual novel #indie game #my games #interactive fiction #indie otome #otome game #amare #amare game #fling with a tiefling #asexuality #asexual #pansexual

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gnomishcunning · 1 month

Note

Re: requests, literally any nsfw for Zevlor? I love one (1) sad old tiefling

i, too, love one sad ole' tiefling. he and karlach own my wholeass heart. some of my own headcanons/portrayals of him snuck into these, hope ya don't mind.

(please send me more asks about zevlor i love him so much)

nsfw below the cut! MDNI

in general-

zevlor's a hopeless romantic in the truest of sense. his entire life has been about devotion - he joined a group of soldiers that you can't quite, he's a paladin who lived by his oath for decades, and he followed the literal god of guardians. he believes in devotion, and that undoubtedly leaked into his concept of relationships

maybe back in his young soldiering days, zevlor had some one-night stands, maybe an occasional fling or two. but his devotion to his duty came first, and he sadly never found time to fall in love like he wanted, or start a family.

so, if you somehow managed to lure zevlor into your bed? you need to know it's because he loves you. even if he hasn't told you.

he's an old, broken paladin. he's not willing to risk heartbreak and further grind down his sense of self-worth, not with everything he's been through.

he's already lost everything that made him who he was. he can't loose you, too.

the first time around? it's all sweetness. he approaches your naked body with a sort of reverence, like he can't quite believe what he's seeing. that this is actually happening.

his attention to detail is paramount. he's trimmed all his talons to a dull sort of safety, he's got warming oil tucked into his belt-pouch, hell - he brings his own contraceptive herbs, if he's with the type partner where that's a concern. he'll eat em in front of you if that helps.

consent is the sexiest thing, and he unwraps you like a present, carefully asking with every piece of clothing removed, dipping his head to press kisses to every new bit of your beautiful self revealed to him.

His hands tremble as they travel over soft skin, careful on every curve he covers. he's constantly checking in, making sure you're okay- can he touch here? caress you?

it's admittedly a very vanilla affair, but it's probably the most tender, loving sex you'll ever have.

he's going to want to top, and gods, how can you say no to that face?

you'll come first. no matter what. he presses kisses down your body until he can attend your clit or cock with careful flicks of his tongue, he'll dribble oil onto his fingers in front of you so he can slowly work you open, taking one finger, then two-

and gods, you just know he'd have amazing hands, right? callused and dextrous after a lifetime of sword-wielding, but ever-so careful and exact.

he won't want to take you until you've made a mess of the bedsheets, and when he does? he wants to take you in missionary so he can reach you everywhere, kiss every bit, and watch - commit every bit of this to memory, just in case he never has the opportunity take you apart, ever again

he's going to do his gods-damned best to insure you both cum at the same time. he'll press careful kisses to your mouth as you fall apart, one hand cupping your chin, just so he can watch your face as you cum

he's not a very loud moaner, but he repeats your name on loop until he finishes.

he gets hella clingy afterwards, and if you two have the right kind of relationship where he feels safe enough to be vulnerable which of course you two do, he'll probably cry afterwards

thankfully, this becomes a regular occurrence for both of you

in terms of kinks? zevlor's a bit of a mixed bag. he's got a lot of things he's passingly thought would be very hot to try with a partner, but he may carry some weird guilt about it.

in kinky, bdsm terms-

i'm a firm believer he's a switch, and he's equally willing (and wanting, tbh) to take both roles on, depending on the night. while bdsm wouldn't be a lifestyle-like thing for him and the majority of y'all's sex is vanilla, there's definitely occasions where he wants to indulge. and they're usually like, specifically-planned and orchestrated occasions, set to consume a whole evening, for both the kinky sex and the aftercare.

safewords include the faerun equivalent to the stoplight system (which i'm still working on), or something simple and straightforward that both of you can easily remember.

'bridle' is what comes to mind off the bat

he's absolute delighted if his partner wanted to take care of him, and yield without a fight. if he verbally protests he should be taking care of you, just say you wanna show him how much you love him. he'll fall apart in moments.

as a submissive? his biggest kinks would be praise and body worship, especially contrasted with some light verbal degradation. he's got some guilt to work through, and it's nice to do that with someone he trusts implicitly. but focus more on rewarding good behavior, rather than punishing bad behavior. he's disappointed enough in himself.

it's worth mentioning, this man is the furthest thing from a brat (for the most part). he wants to be good and get praised, since nothing else gets his heart beating as fast - but if you're being a tease, he's not above squirming and cursing at you in infernal

bondage is a yes, but he prefers one particular facet: rope. shibari's equal parts art form and bondage, and he'd appreciate the care and attention to detail that goes into it.

ironically? you wouldn't need bondage to hold him still. he's pretty damn good at following orders, and he's definitely eager to please. i don't think he'd be into 'good boy', but call him a 'sweet lil soldier'??? hahahaha oh wow

sweet and reassuring aftercare is a necessity, there's like a 95% chance he'd cry in a weird, cathartic sorta way. he's definitely a candidate for subdrop, so watch for that.

regardless of how pretty he is when he falls apart, he'd additionally play dominant with just as much eagerness. just say you trust him implicitly, he's incredibly handsome and attractive when he's in-charge, and you want him to take control. he'll more than happily agree - he's enthusiastic about it, especially when he sees how excited you are about the concept

speaking of- titles. Master sits weird with him, but "Sir" and "Commander" are both on deck. he kinda a fun lil illicit thrill using his old title in the bedroom. it'd go a long way to restore that ole' Hellrider Commander confidence, ngl.

he's a very firm, but very kind dominant, if that makes sense? he issues his commands, wants and expects them to be followed. his rewards good behavior with praise and petting (hair, or elsewhere on your body)

he's got a very good understanding about the lengths and limits of subspace given how well he knows you, he's incredibly attentive about how far his submissive has sunk, mentally, and he'll take them as far as they're looking to go- whether that's just taking their mind off a situation with some sweet tending and an orgasm or three, or totally obliterating their brainpower in a positive way with the paladick(tm) treatment

very into getting his partner to the point all they remember his name, designation, and 'please'. equally as fond as leaving hickies/marks/love bites all across their body, especially where people might be able to see. leaving physical evidence of his effect on his lover is a big turn-on

as equally into bondage and rope as a dominant as he is a submissive. it's a hobby he occasionally indulges in, and he enjoys prettying you up in fancy hemp ropes he probably dyed himself

he's fan-fuckin-tastic with aftercare, it's kind of insane. he's soft and careful, getting you a glass of water, he draws you a warm bath and helps you clean up, and then lures you back into your body from the weird, floaty world of subspace with soft touches and sweet praises. he'll get you snacks afterwards if you need them, and do just about anything you'll ask - from reading a book out-loud so you can listen to his voice, to granting you another orgasm if needed.

for the record if y'all want deets about how he is with a brat or an obedient submissive, someone needs to bite the bullet and send the ask, otherwise this post is gonna extend into forever

#zevlor x tav #bg3 #zevlor

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fangsyouverymuch01 · 4 months

Text

If walls could talk

This is part 2 of my series. You don't have to have read the first part to get into pt 2, butttt I would appreciate it! :) Part 1 LINK.

Part 3 is also out! Here is the LINK.

Summery: Tav is fighting against their dark thoughts and decides to do something about it. However, what other bloodthirsty killer lurks in the dark forest?

Words: 2,2 k

Parings: Astarion x durge, Astarion x tav

Warnings: Blood, dark fantasies/nightmares, daggers, smut if you squint???, murder, sleep deprivation, sassy vampire

Hope you like it! <3

Moonlight marks the end of the day, painting the swaying leafs a faint blue. The cracklings of the fire and the laughter from your newfound companions warms the cool night. You’ve managed to gather a party of the gith - Laezel, the blade of frontiers - Wyll, Karlach - a fighter from avernus, Gale - Mystras former chosen, sharworshipper - Shadowheart and lastly the pale rouge Astarion. Quite the mix to say at least.

Everyone’s laughter is mixed with the occasional slurping. Gale had insisted on making a traditional potato and leek soup which was appreciated by some, others like Astarion had barely touched it.

“You’re not hungry Astarion?” Karlach asked as she gulped down her second bowl of soup.

“I prefer something more filling.” he stated and shot you a quick glance before adding “ Besides, the events of today have me thinking of other things than leek soup.” .

You nearly choke at his comment and retort by gluing your eyes to the bowl in your hands.

“No offense taken my friend, however you are missing out on this delightful soup, the leeks are scarcely this fresh in Waterdeep.”

The party hums in approval and the conversation falls into a stillness, only the occasional breaking of twigs and swaying trees break the silence. Soon enough, the moon reaches its peak and everyone zips up their tents for the night. Your tent contains a simple bedroll and a teddy bear Karlach had lended you after observing your dark under eyes worsening the past days. Sleep had not found you , thoughts of life before the crash kept sleep from embracing your tired form. The others abilities had been wiped from the tadpole insertion but their memories stayed intact, why hadn’t yours? Questions filled your cortex, gaining a disturbing wriggling from the worm trapped within your skull. Adding to your concern, were your trances. Unbeknownst to your companions, these trances haunted you far more than sleep deprivation. Blood, gore, torture, murder and a variety of dark fantasies threatened to consume you.

What will happen if you lost control?

This night differed from the others, the lack of sleep seemed to affect your willpower and fantasies of butchering foe and friend displayed themselves as your eyelids felt heavier. Cradling the stuffed animal, your eyelids dip and curl your legs against the lower of your abdomen. Snoring and faint breaths cushion your tilted ears, guiding you to enter the embrace of night. The occasional stir flings your eyes open but the blue light signals them to close yet again.

Flashes of Shadowheart and Karlach pass by, them withstanding to burst into laughter as you awkwardly shift to fit the very large lute in your lap. Alfira bombards your efforts with words of encouragement, unsuccessfully pulling you from glancing at Shadowheart and Karlach doubled over in the corner, tears forming in the half elf’s eyes and the tiefling biting her lip as she pushes down a rumbling laugh. Exhaling to calm yourself, you pull at the strings and an array of tunes and random noises are produced. A terrible tune, a tune so foul that your ears fold to lessen the eardrum to vibrate at every tone crushing against it. Stealing a glance at your companions, an image of a headless Karlach strikes. Twisting your neck towards Alfira, she’s holding her heaving chest and pouring into her lap is a waterfall of thick blood. The once joyous ambiance twists into a macabre dreamscape. Shadowheart and Karlach's previous laughter warps into haunting echoes, and Alfira's encouragement morphs into desperate pleas though her gurgling. Your fingers tremble on the lute, producing dissonant, nightmarish sounds that echo the chaos. As you steal glances at your companions, Shadowhearts face contort into grotesque expressions of agony. The nightmare's grip tightens, effectively suffocating you.

“What did you do?” Shadowheart whispers, hands lacing with the hem of your trousers by your feet, the essence of life a ghost on her lips.

Wake up. Wake up!

You need to stay awake.

You can’t and you won’t let this control you.

Panting, your person rises from the bedroll. Your heart drums against the sternum of your ribcage and you swear, the sound of cracking bones bounces off the taupe tent walls. Tears pour as the floodgates to your tear duct opens. It was all so much, overbearing guilt tightens its snare and breathing burdens your lungs. Tossing the sweat drenched stuffed bear, you unzip a backpack in the corner of the tent. In the backpack lies a crossbow you picked up from the battle outside the groove, a battle your then more modest party barely withstood. Pulling it out you prepare to head out into the night. Perhaps your thoughts could not be controlled but you did have a choice in what was at the receiving end of your brutal fantasies. Puffing out a breath of air, your rise and glare at the dark sky. The cloud-free night unveils moonbeams and stars twinkling in the vast expanse, inviting contemplation.

“Please let this work.” you plead with the moon.

The camp is positively silent, making your chance to slip into the shadows significantly increase. Carefully, you tread past Gales and Astarions tents. To your surprise, Astarions tent is slightly unzipped. Was he also facing the restless night? Or was he out causing mischief at night as well? Having no time to ponder the alternatives, you make way towards the dark forest.

The night has the once calm and inviting nature evoking a sense of adrenaline - what hid in its shadows? The ballad of birds and paws of gentler creatures had slumped with the rise of the moon, leaving behind a hushed stillness that amplifies the rustle of leaves and distant whispers of the nocturnal world. As the cool breeze carries the fragrance of earth, the night becomes a stage for the mysterious and unseen, where the darkness holds both the thrill of the unknown and the comfort of needed solitude. A twig is snapped further down the unknown woods, sending a subtle tremor through the air. Instinctively, you froze. Your gaze narrowed, senses guiding your body to scan for any signs of movement. Amidst the rustling leaves, a fleeting silhouette hides behind the vegetation —a prey

Salvation by the blade! Salvation by the blade! Salvation by the blade! Salvation by the blade!

It demands to be heard. Clutching your soul, clawing at your cortex to take a shot at the unknowing creature behind the protecting leafs. A feverish sweat trickles down your temples as you aim the crossbow. Narrowing your eyes, the moon casts an eerie glow as your prey skillfully drains the life force from another unsuspecting creature.

Pointy ears, white curls - Astarion?

No. No, it can’t be.

Descending into the trance, your body remains unfazed to the revelation before your eyes. Astarion is crouching over a boar, blood from its guts spilling over his leather beeches and obscene guttural noises escapes the elf’s lips.

Did he have the same affliction as you?

When fighting to regain clarity fully, his keen ears catch a hint of movement in your direction. Swift as a shadow, he hurtles toward the foliage, forcefully pushing you onto the plush grass. With a thud you hit the ground. His dagger assertively rests at your throat and the other hand restraints yours from countering his initiative. His face, smeared with blood, reveals menacingly sharp teeth, droplets cascading onto your lips. The metallic taste mutes the voices in your mind, and as clarity dawns, you realize it may be a moment too late to salvage the situation.

“Trying to sneak up on a rouge now are we?” The elf snarls.

“Astarion wait I didn’t know-“ you ramble as you try to regain your full clarity.

The elf’s jaw tenses as if juggling his options.

“Are we the same you and I?” You ask unwillingly, being careful not to move under his sharp blade.

“Darling, you and I are nothing alike. I’d never make the questionable decision to aim my bow at a fellow and trusted companion ” Astarion answers and leans towards your face, persistently persevering eye contact with you.

At that, Astarion pushes his dagger further into your jugular vein, earning him a disapproving growl. He’s straddling you with his full weight pressing you down, there is no escaping except from your sharp tongue.

“I never meant to hurt you, it’s just-“ you stop, contemplating how to explain your condition to the irritated bloodstained elf before you. “I dream in red, I’ve not slept for days in hopes it would go away to no avail, so I came out here to kill some worthless boar or rabbit in hopes it would ease my fantasies.” You confess in one breath.

There it was, the truth of it all and now it was up to him to decide.

Astarion investigates your features as if trying to detect any dishonesty, face still covered in blood running down his neck, spilling under the front lacing of his shirt. What starts as a chuckle turns into a manic laughter from the elf’s lips. On display are his teeth again.

Fangs. A vampire.

“I won’t tell the others, just let me go.“ you begin as panic rises from your chest.

“How delightful, a maniac with a dark urge and a starved vampire. A fruitful pair don’t you think?” He smirks as his eyes grow dark, a deep crimson boring into yours.

“Fruitful?” you question as he narrows the inches between your faces.

“Darling, your urges have you adrenaline pumping and mine keep me far from alert, we could perhaps come to an arrangement for our predicaments..”

Oh.

His push on your jugular vein softens and he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“You give me a taste of your delectable blood and your reward leaves you from acting on these dirty thoughts of yours. “

His sultry voice entwines with your senses, warm and enticing as it beckons you to accept his proposition. On a logical level, he presents a solution to your predicament. Yet, it's hard to ignore the stark reality—this man, soaked in blood, recently grappled you to the ground and still pushes a dagger menacingly against your throat.

“Not a drop too much, I still need to be able to fight when the sun rises.” you squeeze out, hiding your blush at the position in which he held you, restraining you from squirming and hiding.

“I’ll restrict my urges as long as you do too darling”

Gods.

Astarions lashes flutter against your cheek, traveling along the curve of your neck and sharply inhales near your jaw. The dagger in his grasp is speedily pocketed into his holster, hand now reaching to angel your head in the perfect position.

“Very good” he coos.

Heat grows between your thighs as his legs squeeze the sides of your hips and chest pressed against yours makes your breath hitch in response. You want to indulge in every part of him but at the same time you are at his mercy. He was dealt a hand where destiny, hope and trust entirely was up to him.

“Give in, embrace the truth of the blade.” the voice licked into your other ear, tongue slithering further in.

“Astarion please get it over with, I-“ you stutter as the trance flits back into your limbs, nails reaching to tear themselves from his grip. “I’m losing myself…please”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. The rouge skillfully bundles your restraint from pulling away from his sharp teeth. Licking the area to prepare for his bite, he plants a kiss before puncturing into your pumping jugular vein. The pain is sharp at first, urging your mouth to let out a gasp. Seconds pass and with time leavs the pain and is traded for an electrifying jolt that sends shivers through your body. Warmth, pleasure, joy, arousal and at last - nothingness. The kiss of stillness lures before you and only Astarions licking pierced through the vacuum-like atmosphere. His head bobs up and down, curls cushioning your tilted jaw.

“Astarion?”

The rouge stiffens as your words cleave through his own blood frenzy. His licking is replaced by fluttering kisses, sending jolts of warmth to spread between your legs. Your once bundled hands are now also intertwined with his, the other tangled in your hair. The elf slightly pulls your hair, earning him a muffled moan as you bite down to contain your racing thoughts. As your head spins in bliss, Astarion prowls to catch your disoriented eyes with his pupil-blown ones. The vampire is positively delighted, a genuine smile creeping up as he loosened his grip on your hand.

“ You are truly delicious my dear.” the euphoric man softly speaks, licking his lips.

“I’m glad to be proven a filling snack.” you say through half-closed eyes.

Astarion must’ve noticed your delirium and furrows his brow in response.

“Are you quite alright?”

“Yes of course, why wouldn’t I?” you whisper and give him a genuine smile.

You glance at him with fully opened eyes, taking in the sight before you.

Trying uncipher your progressively clouded thoughts you mumble “You are very pretty Astarion”.

In the moonlit silence the rest of your conversation turns into a blur. The last image to flash by is a trembling hand that sought your pulse, any sign of life.

“Don’t you dare die on me.”

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swordcreature · 4 months

Note

How about HCs about how would dammon rolan and (if you write for her) alfira feel/react to about a shy but beautifully stoic tav of a few words that needs alittle time to open up to people that they cant help fall in love with ❤️

*writes a short little series of drabbles in response to this ask*

*goes back and rereads the actual ask*

*realizes it says HCs*

welp it was nice knowing you all i'm going to fling myself into the sun now!!!

these are basically more nuanced HCs if you squint right? RIGHT??

anon i am sorry i missed that part hopefully you like these as they are

also i actually had a lot more fun writing Alfira than i though i would (though i don't know how much i can write for her in the future because her and Lakrissa are actually wives and will be together 4ever hehe, how could i break that up?!?!)

anywho ty for the request ily very much *smooch*

Dammon, Rolan, & Alfira - Stoic Tav

How the tieflings fall for a Tav of very little words

Dammon:

Dammon loves people. Despite being introverted it’s one of his favorite things about working as a smith: getting to meet others he would never get to meet any way else, working with people who he’d probably never speak to otherwise. So, at first his infatuation with Tav is an extension of that. They’re silent, but not awkwardly so. They’re easygoing but not boring. In short, he’s perplexed by them. They are a mystery to him and the part of him that’s a problem solver is intrigued. So Dammon tries to learn more. He asks questions when they’re around, innocuous and simple questions to break the ice, to hopefully get them to open up. Every answer Tav gives him, no matter how small, is like a log tossed into a fire, fueling his desire to know more about them. He never presses though. He takes his time, advancing when they are willing to give and falling back when they show hesitance. Somewhere along the way something changes, and Dammon is no longer unraveling Tav to solve their mysteries. Instead, he’s unraveling them to see what lay underneath because he likes what he’s seen so far. He likes Tav. No. He’s falling for Tav. The quiet comfort they offer him as they sit around the forge, the sweet, shy smiles they hide when he says something stupid but funny, the way they carry themself with a silent confidence unlike anyone he has ever known before. It’s all the little things he’s come to notice during his time figuring Tav out. But it’s also the trust they put in him, opening up little by little until Dammon could see their bigger picture. He can’t help but to fall hard.

Rolan:

Tav is a frustrating conundrum if you ask Rolan. Annoyingly heroic and unabashedly good, but still somehow blissfully quiet. Rolan was used to the boisterous hero type, the kind with a cringe worthy moniker, boasting about their brave adventures over the fire and a tankard of ale. But Tav... Tav is silent. Almost to a fault. Rolan could probably count on one hand the number of words Tav has spoken to him, which somehow makes him even more vexed. Surely it couldn’t hurt them to accept his apologies with warm regards. They never do, instead only offering a simple nod and a smile. And even after Lorroakan is dead and Ramazith’s tower is left to Rolan’s whim, Tav hardly says a word. It’s only when he thanks them for what seems like the millionth time in just a few tendays, asking them why they’re just leaving the tower in his hands, that they speak – saying something that catches him off guard completely. “There’s no one better fit to run this place than you.” And suddenly Rolan is the one without words. Something in him changes like a switch being flipped. He stops talking so much and actually listens. What he hears makes him realize what he’s been missing out on all along. It isn’t that Tav is quiet. No, Rolan just hasn’t been observant. He sees quickly that Tav doesn’t talk with their words, but with their actions; fighting for those they care for, standing up for what they believe in. And through those actions Tav is very loud. They’ve bled for Rolan, risked themself for his family. He feels stupid, blinded by his own struggles to see what was in front of him. After that he spends a lot of time around Tav with his mouth shut and his eyes open. And eventually Tav starts to talk with words too.

Alfira:

Lihala’s voice would always fill Alfira’s mind in times when words seemed to fail her. Her teacher was better with words than she, more adept at weaving together prose that would bring even the most hardened warriors to their knees. She envied that about her. Still, compared to Tav, Alfira was a bloody lyrical genius. Not that Alfira minded at all – in fact the opposite was true, she found Tav’s lack of verbosity to be endearing. They listened better than anyone she had ever met – something very important to a bard like Alfira – and they were extremely receptive to her work. At least from what she could read on their face. Sometimes though, in the strangest ways, Alfira would see Lihala in Tav. The way unbridled emotions flit across their face when they were comfortable, the way they chose every word they did speak with the utmost care. For the quietest person she knew, they had a way of making a big impact. Of course, they weren’t always so completely stoic. The more and more Alfira saw of Tav the more they’d dare to speak, slowly sharing themself. Those times were Alfira’s favorite. They reminded her of the first time she had heard a bard play in the town square of Elturel. She was so enraptured by the thrum of the music as it filled the cobblestone streets that she barely said a word. In those moments, she knew what it felt like to be Tav. To not need words to experience the world. To listen rather be heard. A novel concept for someone like Alfira, to be sure, but one so utterly wonderful she appreciated it all the same. She thought about her past with Lihala often, about how loud and discordant the world was without her sweet poetry in it. But then she would think of her future, of Tav, and about how harmonious the world could sound if she just stopped and listened.

#bg3 #bg3 dammon #bg3 rolan #bg3 alfira #dammon #rolan #alfira #dammon x tav #rolan x tav #alfira x tav #my writing #requests/suggestions #anon #baldur's gate 3

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chaoticbardlady99 · 4 months

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Lethal Woman: Chapter 8 (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Synopsis: You and Astarion have many misadventures while going back through the Blighted Village. Someone from your past makes a gruesome reappearance and reveals they are hunting Astarion. You and Astarion inadvertently confess to each other that there is, in fact, something between the two of you.

CW: Violence, gore, fighting, alcohol, Gnome racism (I don’t hate Gnomes I promise- just Dwarves because the All Hammer killed one of my favorite DND characters), torture, mentions of emotional, psychological, and physical abuse.

Chapter 9

Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Thank you for everyone who has been reading my little passion project!

Tracing your steps back through the blighted village was more eventful than any of you anticipated.

For one- you and Astarion stumbled upon an Ogre and Bug Bear couple (literally) bumping uglies. Astarion had insisted that he open it and you were really hoping it wasn’t what you thought it was. Considering your luck- you weren’t surprised they were fucking, but then they tried to kill you. So you had to ruin the party while the rest of your companions explored the other abandoned buildings while you and Astarion were trying to avoid being covered in various bodily fluids.

Second, Karlach informs you she befriended three massive ogres and they said they’ll send their aid when you “toot this little horn thing”. Then she gave you the news that they don’t promise NOT to eat you. You quickly convinced her to give it to you- you love your tiefling kindred spirit, but her impulse control is terrible sometimes.

Arguably the third incident may be the worst. Karlach had rejoined the other group when Wyll called her over so it was just the two of you again. You had attempted to help a deep Gnome by killing the Goblins that were terrorizing him- much to Astarion’s dismay.

Well, when the Gnome told you to stop the damn thing- you went inside thinking it would be one lever. It was TWO and they said what they each did IN COMMON. YOU CAN’T READ COMMON! And when you asked Astarion to pull the right lever- he had a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Consider the right level pulled, Darling.”

Needless to say, the only positive of that event was the hysterical cackling that erupted from your lover’s mouth as he fell to the ground- unable to contain himself until at least 10 minutes after the Gnome you promised to rescue became airborne and gained his Gnomeish wings. You had looked at Astarion and leered at him playfully.

“You are so mean,” you said while castigating him, trying not to let your love of his genuine laughter get in the way of basic morals, “that is not what I asked you to do at all!”

You are so glad no one else was around for that. Wyll would have stroked out.

“Oh Darling,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes, “I never claimed not to be and next time- maybe be more specific instead of saying ‘can you pull the right lever?’’”

You sighed while pinching the bridge of your nose, now struggling to contain your laughter. Like the absolute shit he is- he found a loophole.

“Well as long as you aren’t tying me up to a windmill and flinging me into the heavens-“

You didn’t even get to end your sentence because Astarion began crying and laughing again.

Within an hour of the impromptu funeral, your situationship and the interests of the others in the group had been tested when you, Gale, Astarion, and Lae’zel found the Necromancy of Thay. You had accidentally stumbled across the room while searching the caverns underneath the Blighted Village and finding a strange purple amethyst. The book had immediately taken to it and you don’t know what Astarion had seen from the book, but he refused to back down and hand it to Gale.

“No!” Astarion says indignantly, “you aren’t eating this one!”

“I need it to stabilize-“

“I could give a rat’s ass about how stable your stupid chest orb is,” Astarion says while glaring, “this is far too special for the likes of you to consume.”

“It’s obviously a very powerful tome. It would be beneficial for helping my condition,” Gale huffs and then they both look at you.

Oh no.

“State your case?” You say awkwardly, “unbiasedly?”

They both scowl and Astarion pouts at you, but the look in his eyes tells you he understands to some extent that you at least have to let both parties argue their side. You did have a full blown melt down one of the first nights of the journey over not being able to make everyone happy. Astarion rarely put up a fight with you unless it was important to him. You do this with everyone, not just them, but you worry your relationship with Astarion will be seen as the influencing factor.

Gale simply stated that it had powerful magic that he would like to consume. You did mention that you have multiple items for him in your pocket at any given time, but he is still insistent.

Then Astarion makes his case and it’s actually very difficult to argue with it. It’s a book of Necromancy and he is undead. What if the book had a cure for his condition? Or at least a way to diminish the side effects? The desperation in his voice had somehow cracked Gale’s resolve- you didn’t even have to make a decision.

“Fineeeeeeeee,” Gale drawls, “have the damn book- you bastard.”

Astarion looks far too pleased with himself.

Asshole, you think with a smile.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You set up camp at your previous campsite near the Grove so that you can begin your journey into the Underdark.

The sun has already set and the moon shines brightly in the sky. You aren’t ready to go underground yet. You always miss the moon and stars.

You are sitting by the nearby river- enjoying the sounds of the roaring river with Karlach as the two of you try to sort out her love life.

“Soooo,” you raise your eyebrows at her, “is it going to be Wyll, Damon, or Shadowheart?”

“Ughhhh,” Karlach tips over and pretends to writhe in pain in the grass, “having choices sucks!!”

“Oh come on K,” you say teasingly, “you must have someone you are specifically gravitating towards.”

Karlach taps her chin and pretends to think. After a minute- she just looks at you and shrugs.

“I’ve got nothing.”

“Nothing? You spend so much time with Shadowheart and Wyll! Dammon I’d maybe understand being out of the running but what the hell man!”

“I know, I know,” Karlach sighs, “I mean you had Gale and Halsin up your ass- why Astarion?”

You are almost frozen by her question. Why does everyone but you notice when people fancy you?

Why did you choose Astarion? You know the answer, but you also don’t know how to phrase it without sounding like an emotionally clingy weirdo.

“Um well,” you cough awkwardly, “I guess I just really like who he is as a person. I think he’s really funny, intelligent, and whether he wants to admit it or not- he is kind, in his own way.”

You neglect to tell Karlach about the Gnome. You have a feeling she won’t love that whole mess.

“The first night we hung out and just talked was… it was like when I met Tessa for the first time. It was an instant- oh no I’d do anything for this person.”

You hug your knees and put your chin on them. You scrunch up your face and avoid her face.

“You look rather upset for someone who is horribly smitten.”

“I’m not upset- it’s just weird… feeling this way again,” you sigh heavily, “I really am a walking death trap though-specifically where lovers go to die. I probably should end it, right? To keep him safe?”

“I would let him make that decision if you are so worried about it,” Karlach waves her hands at you dismissively, “you like him-I believe he likes you. Fangs can make his own choices- we all know the risk of traveling with you as you know the risk of traveling with us.”

“That’s a good point.”

“Of course it is! I’m a genius!”

You roll your eyes, “So who’s it gonna be Karlach?”

“DAMMIT!”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The trek back to camp isn’t a long one, but you are ready to be in- well- a bed roll?

Astarion has found every excuse in the book to have you come and stay in his tent with him- except for just flat out asking you. It makes you quite giddy regardless.

One night he had even resorted to using the excuse that he needed your assistance and guidance in sharpening his throwing knives. You know what didn’t happen? Sharpening throwing knives.

The two of you had ended up tangled in each other’s embrace and talking until you eventually fell asleep. You woke up the next morning (entirely too early, the sun was barely rising) with him curled around you sleeping. You decided to go back to sleep- you weren’t ready to start your day. You’d rather stay here with Astarion.

You walk back to camp with a slight skip in your step- wondering if Astarion will want you to sleep in his tent with him again tonight. It had been a little less than a week since you had begun backtracking to the Underdark entrance and he had sought you out every night. You really REALLY hope he continues this trend.

Karlach is talking to you about the pros and cons of each partner- still entirely undecided- when you both hear a bone chilling cackle come from a tree in front of you. You both stop in your tracks immediately- Karlach reaches for the small blade she brought with her and you prepare your hidden daggers.

“Well if it isn’t good ole Corpse Eyes,” the mysterious woman says, “we thought you’d finally disappeared for good. Suppose we were wrong.”

You recognize the voice immediately as your fellow guild mate- Rinara. The two of you couldn’t stand each other. She wanted Dahlia to lavish her in all the attention and training she gave you- you just wanted to be left the fuck alone.

Rinara felt like you were a, “selfish fucking brat,” and had taken to calling you ‘Corpse Eyes’ because you had been entirely empty, rigid, and lifeless up until the last year. You were no better than a walking, mindless zombie to her.

Rinara steps around the corner and it takes every last bit of restraint you have not to let the horror show on your face.

Rinara was once a beautiful, almond haired half High Elf with a strong, healthy body. Now? Her skin is the color of Ash, her eyes are bloodlust red, her hair is coming out in clumps on her head, and her skin is peeling off like she has been sitting in an acid bath for a while now. Her left cheek is completely gone- revealing her teeth and gums.

“I was initially only here for the Spawn,” you feel your blood freeze as she smiles at you- all teeth and no light in her eyes, “but if Dahlia also had you…”

“You need to back the fuck off Rinara or-“

“Or what!? You’ll kill me?” She yells out hysterically, “I’m already fucking dead! You disappeared and so they sent fucking Dahlia to do your contract- a request from Obhark himself for the assassination of Lord Cazador Szarr.

“The woman struck a fucking deal with him- she’ll help get his prodigal son home and she’ll supply him with Deathbringers if she’ll be made his consort when he completes the ritual.

“I may not be able to control them,” she snarls, “but I do know that none of this would have happened if you hadn’t fucked off. This was supposed to be you! You are the one who should be tortured and violated! Not me! Not any of us!”

Huh, so your contract was to kill Cazador and because a Mindflayer kidnapped you- Dahlia took the contract and has gone rogue. How very convenient. This certainly tracks with the ridiculousness of the other circumstances you are dealing with. If it’s not devils, then it’s the Gith. If it’s not the gith- it’s some sadistic vampire. There is no winning in this group. Halsin is the only one that doesn’t seem to have an issue yet, but you are waiting for the other shoe to drop on that one.

That’s not important right now- knowing what the ritual is? That would be very valuable. You and Astarion have tried to figure out what the carvings into his back are and what they represent. You can read infernal so you know what it says, but it doesn’t make total sense.

Hoyc inferiu non iurare per igneu

Naec virba loquor

Eoai mundo muoat

This soul swears no oath by fire

Nor words does he speak

In the realm of death

You both has assumed it was just a way to prevent him from making contracts with devils to be free of Cazador, but now knowing there is a ‘ritual’ happening- you wonder if it’s an integral part of the ritual, the scars. If they are, then that means you are going to be doing some heavy duty bodyguard work- if Obarhk himself had requested it, then it must mean it’s not good.

Which also doesn’t surprise you given the circumstances.

“What ritual,” you say through clenched teeth.

Her smile is unsettling, “It’s a secret- all I know is that it’s going to make Master very very powerful.”

She looks at you with so much pain and anger. You are Dahlia’s favorite chew toy- you had been keeping her out of harm's way (unintentionally) this whole time and now that she has Dahlia’s attention- she seems to realize now why you didn’t want it in the first place.

Rinara looks borderline feral- you can see it now. Dahlia evidently doesn’t know how to complete the ritual or she used a different one entirely- that’s why Rinara is somewhere between a Deathbringer and a skeleton in the making. You bite back the bile as you watch a piece of her flesh roll off of her arms onto the ground below.

“She tricked all of us- requested every Assassins’ aid that was not a Deathbringer. Told us Obarkh is going to pick one of us for a special project based on our ‘performance,” she spits at the ground, “then she turned us into these things- only ten out of the hundred of us that went survived. Cazador’s blood and Dahlia’s black magic flows through my veins and I survived to tell the tale- I am rotting away. I wish I died.

“And now? I’m going to have a feast- at least I can enjoy one last full meal before I disappear completely,” she bares her canines at you, “I wonder how Half Drow tastes- maybe I should ask those pigs that ate your bitch mother.”

You don’t even have time to reply before Rinara is lunging at you and Karlach. You both deftly dodge the display of all consuming rage that Rinara throws into her movement.

Rinara has always been too blood thirsty to think logically during a fight and her recent transformation seems to have only made it worse- except now she’s stronger so she may be able to actually get some damage in- doubtful, but possible.

You and Karlach breakthrough the trees and you are barrelling towards camp. You are well-versed in unarmed hand to hand combat, but you can’t leave your life up to chance. You don’t know what Dahlia did to her, but it’s becoming clearer that it was not a Deathbringer ceremony that was performed. Her breathing behind you is ragged and rattling- the smell of her skin taints the air you breathe. She is here specifically for Astarion- you can’t afford to take any risk that could keep Rinara alive.

Everyone looks at you both in alarm as you grab your daggers from outside Lae’zel’s tent (she had offered to sharpen them and basically refused to let you say no). Karlach grabs her axe and yells frantically about some zombie woman who wants Astarion, but hates you and now she wants to consume you before taking Astarion back to Cazador. Oh and Dahlia is in on it too because apparently your disappearance had really caused some issues with a contract regarding killing the Vampire Lord.

You barely see the footsteps of the invisible person running up to you in time to dodge and you hear the scream of frustration rip through the air.

You make a wild guess regarding her location and throw a knife while she screams and cusses at you.

“I’ve been waiting to rip you piece by FUCKING piece since I met -“ she is cut off by a screech and revealing herself to your companions.

You had most definitely hit her- your blade stuck in her left eyeball. Rinara looks at you- significantly more pissed off than she was even a moment before-, rips out her eyeball using the throwing knife, discards it, and begins circling you.

Rinara is not bright and she lacks impulse control. She can remain in control for maybe only four or five minutes at a time- which would explain why hearing your voice is probably what set her off Astarion’s path. The chase bought you more time since Rinara loves a good hunt- you are almost positive you can break her down quickly and because she’ll be chasing a high, she’ll make stupid mistakes. Rinara also loves to talk and taunt her targets which infuriates you, but at least it’s a full proof trap for her.

“You don’t always need to be stronger than your opponents,” Dahlia says as she watches you get the shit kicked out of you by a hired mercenary, “you just need to be faster, smarter, and calm- let them dig their own grave.”

Your companions are clambering for their weapons and you send out a “don’t move” message telepathically. Astarion protests hit your brain like a wave- all you feel is fear. You tell him to trust you and you allow him to be privy to your thoughts and actions. You know exactly how quickly this will end after your next words and you don’t need her getting spooked.

“You know, Rinara, I’m not surprised Dahlia tricked you or that you were dense enough to drink Cazador’s blood- it certainly wouldn’t be the dumbest thing you’ve fallen for,” you smile at her, “I might actually feel sorry for you this time.”

You see your companions all staring at you as Rinara’s footsteps end just to the right of their line of sight. You can feel Astarion’s gaze burning into you and you have to focus hard on disconnecting. Embarrassment will not be helpful.

“What did you just say to me, you little wretch?”

“Oh sorry,” you clear your throat, “I SAID- I THINK YOU ARE REALLY REALLY FUCKING DUMB AND I’M NOT SURPRISED YOU GOT DOOPED.”

The sound of Astarion’s laughter fills your head- you fight to stop the smile that is threatening to cross your lips. The rage bristling off of her is so wonderful. You feel a dopamine rush over the way her teeth are chattering in anger, the way her eyes are paranoid and unfocused as she looks at you. You have gotten under her skin and now it’s your turn to be the predator.

“I’m going to enjoy bringing your skeleton back to Dahlia after I pick you clean,” she roars, “I’m going to enjoy watching that stupid Spawn finally fulfill his-“

“Do you ever shut up or ?” You ask, snorts and laughter coming from your companions, “I feel like I left that at a really good spot and we should just move forward or whatever?”

Oh the look of embarrassment, shame, and fury on her face- how you wish Lucia could have seen it. She could not stand Rinara and the way her face twists with the sour emotions is a wonderful sight to behold.

“I’ve changed my mind. I won’t eat you, I’ll just bring you back to Dahlia like the fucking disobedient thing you are! You” she spits, “are nothing, but a walking Corpse. You should have stayed dead- I liked you better that way. If Dahlia can do it once- I’m sure she’ll love doing it again. You’ll be tolerable and compliant soon enough.”

The cackle that leaves your lips surprises you.

“You always have been so fucking stupid, Rinara,” you hiss, “if you want Dahlia to love you so fucking bad you can have her. The price of her ‘love’ is hardly worth it- the woman is madder than that weird old guy next to brothel on 8th.”

“YOU ARE UNGRATEFUL!” Rinara screeches, “I WILL TEACH YOU A LESSON!”

You could not roll your eyes further back into your head. It should be easier to leave the Nightmasks. The idiocy is putting years on your immortal life.

“Doubtful, but you are welcome to try.”

Rinara lunges fast, but you are definitely faster. You imagine having intact skin helps. Rinara is hitting you with attack after attack and you just focus on dodging, getting in close for a quick hit, then back to dodging. She is the one dying, not you- let her do all the hard work.

Whatever spell Dahlia used did not promote Stamina or basic hygiene- unfortunately. Rinara is breathing hard and is already losing power in her hits.

This goes on for a couple minutes before Rinara does what she always does- lifting up her back foot ever so slightly so that she can extend her blade farther. You don’t know how many times you have to trip her for this mistake before she realizes she’s her own worst enemy.

You move out of the way and use her momentum- with a swift kick of your foot- Rinara went skidding across the dirt. Her blade is stuck in the ground near you almost perfectly upright. You walk over to it and you push it even further into the ground then stand directly in front of it, cutting off her line of sight to it.

“If you want your cheap ass sword back- come get it.”

It’s actually a very expensive sword and Rinara is very very defensive about it.

“YOU-“

Rinara doesn’t even allow herself to finish her sentence before she flings a massive bolt of lightning your way. Your companions are screaming as you run towards the lightning, but you know what you are doing. You dive just below the electric crackling in the air and roll back onto your feet. You watch as Rinara turns to you before she catches the blue bolt coming back towards her.

You didn’t always like to use your enemies weapons for their intended purposes, but when in need of a reflective surface- you can never go wrong with a sword.

Rinara goes flying towards the campfire- the smell of rotting burnt flesh fills your nose as she cries out in pain with every spark of lightning that jolts through her.

You take your time to walk back to the campfire, walking over with her sword in hand, and look through your pack- of course you left your Holy Water at home. At least you have wine- you pop it open and begin to drink. Rinara is still writhing on the ground and her flesh is even worse off than it was before. This really isn’t your favorite way to spend any evening- killing your formal frenemy because there is no rehabbing this version of her. It is all the worst of Rinara and then some.

You sigh heavily and walk over to her. You cock your head at her, leaning on her sword for support, and take another long sip of the wine. Rinara’s irritation is growing, but her body is practically in tatters now. She lashes out at you with clawed hands- you meet both of her wrists with her own sword- deftly cleaving them off her. The mortified scream that leaves Rinara’s mouth as she begins trying to back away from you. You smile at her with your vampiric stare- intensifying Rinara’s growing fear.

“Dahlia did a shit job training you. Didn’t she tell you the rules ? Use it and you lose it,” you take another swig.

“Hells Soldier!”

“Hey-“ you take an even bigger sip, “I’ve been waiting to take this one out back and put her out of her misery for five years. She’s obsessed with Dahlia of all fucking people and so she terrorizes me by interfering with my contracts! I will be enjoying my moment- thank you very much.”

“That’s not what I meant- you ‘use it, you lose it?’ That can’t possibly-“

You roll up your sleeves and the silence around the campfire is deafening as everyone stares- you should have probably not done that.

Blunt, deep lines around your wrist, old and faded into the skin. There are similar markings on your elbows right at your elbows.

“The reversal process involves blood magic and necromancy- if you were wondering. Oh and yes it does hurt, yes I have more, and no I won’t be talking about it.”

Rinara kicks you weakly- your shoulders slump. Is she serious right now? Consistency is key so off goes the foot. Rinara’s pained wailing echoes in the air.

One last giant swig and you feel less freaked out and embarrassed by your sudden onslaught of bravado. You hold out the bottle to Astarion who happily takes it and begins to drink from it- you can feel his eyes melting your skin and you are almost afraid to see the emotions in them.

You grab Rinara by the back of her collar and her wriggling barely stops you from being able to easily drag her along the forest floor all the way back to the river. Hopefully she’s close to the same concept as a vampire, but also Rinara can’t swim.

“Well my dumb friend,” you say with a snort, “this is where we part ways- permanently. I hope the fish like their dinner and you’ll stop talking so Goddamn much in fights during battles. This was way too much work for how fucking weak you are.”

Rinara is screaming and kicking. You let her go and walk about five feet in front of her- putting her between yourself and the river. You wave and smile like you are saying goodbye to a loved relative- followed with a middle finger.

You use a simple Push cantrip and watch with a sort of sick satisfaction as Rinara begins to burn up, steam coming up from the water as she is dragged away by the current.

“Well Roo, I would say that may be some of your finest work yet,” you say, giving yourself a pat on the back.

You turn around and see all of your companions. You suddenly feel ill and self-conscious. Wyll looks slightly horrified, Halsin is just unreadable, Karlach is giving you a thumbs up like it’s your first day of school, Shadowheart is nodding her head impressed, Gale is shocked, and Lae’zel is slowly clapping.

Astarion though? He’s looking at you with a mixture of gratitude, warmth, and pride. You try your best to avoid his gaze as you put your hand on your hip and lift an eyebrow at them. You might actually keel over from adoration if you look at him.

“What are you guys even doing? Good Gods you people are far too supportive and clingy,” you say trying to hide your smile and then look at Gale, “don’t you have something cooking?”

“SHIT!”

All of your companions turn around to leave, but Astarion begins to walk towards you and you feel like your heart might explode in your chest. You see Karlach celebrate behind him- giving you a thumbs up again and you shake your head at her.

You just fought a woman and barely broke a sweat, but the minute he even looks at you- you feel like your whole body is on fire. Strong hands, grab you by the hips and pull you into his chest before he then moves them to your face. Astarion cups your face in his hands and is looking in your eyes.

“You are a sight to behold, Darling,” he says breathlessly, “that was the most beautiful display of violence I’ve ever seen.”

“ I- uh,” you choke back the surprise, “just another day… on the job?”

“Oh well, let me thank you for your wonderful work then.”

“You don’t need to-“

Astarion presses his lips to yours and swallows up the words you were going to say. The kiss is rough, but slow and needy- hungry even. It makes you feel like he is yearning for you- worshiping you in a temple.

When you pull back for air, you see how his eyes are blown wide with lust and another emotion you can’t quite decipher- it’s positive, but also a little fearful.

“Stay with me?” He asks, his voice uncharacteristically shy, “in my tent?”

“Tonight?”

“Yes,” he pauses before saying quietly, “and every night after that too- if you want.”

You let a huge smile spread across your face and his nervous expression appears to melt away almost instantly. You step back from him and curtsy.

“I, a simple camp urchin, would be honored to stay in your tent with you, Lord Acunin,” you say teasingly.

Astarion rolls his eyes with a lopsided smile, but puts his arm out to you. You loop your arm through his as if you are two normal nobles courting each other.

“First we must feed you, my Lady,” Astarion states in an overly proper tone, you giggle and you see the corners of his mouth twitch further at the sound, “I must make sure my lover is well taken care of after all.”

You are hot from head to toe and Astarion absolutely has to notice. If he does, he doesn’t say anything, but you hope he hears how alive he makes your heart sound.

*************************************

“Never have I ever…” Gale says, “worked for a Devil.”

Astarion watches as Karlach and Wyll begrudgingly take a large sip of their choice of liquor. You are leaning your head on Astarion’s shoulder- the alcohol making you slightly more affectionate in public. Astarion would be lying if he said it didn’t give him a thrill to be this close to you- even if PDA might not be his thing.

“Never have I ever- been a vampire,” Karlach says slyly.

Both you and Astarion grumble- taking a shot.

“Never have I ever,” Shadowheart says, tapping her finger on her knee , “lit a building on fire.”

Every single one of you but Halsin takes a shot. Shadowheart giggles and then also takes a shot.

“Shadowheart,” Karlach says and looks at her with confusion, “you aren’t supposed to drink if you haven’t done it?”

“Oh no- I have,” Shadowheart slurs, “I just wanted another shot and couldn’t think of anything else.”

Karlach begins to chastise Shadowheart playfully- commenting on how she is already way too messed up and Shadowheart saying, “I am a CLERIC I can cure my own hangovers!”

Everybody chuckles and returns to the game- it’s Wyll’s turn. Wyll regards you and cocks an eyebrow.

“Hmmmmm…. Never have I ever killed a Liche.”

You snort and take a shot.

“NO!” Wyll exclaims, “I thought I had you that time.”

“Mhmmmmm,” you hum in acknowledgement, “I think I was- 15?”

Wyll is sitting on the edge of his seat- actually everyone is. Astarion watches you squirm in recognization that everyone wants to hear your story.

“Oh it was just a complete accident,” you say with a fake enthusiasm, “I was exploring a nearby temple during a contract and just happened to run into one.”

Everyone bought the story- Wyll comments that you have terrible luck which you laugh at. He has no idea.

Astarion already knows this story- Dahlia had dragged your halfway dead body all the way into an abandoned castle off the coast of the Sea of Stars, resurrected you, and then shackled your feet and hands together. She later hid the key for the shackles somewhere in the castle for you to find.

It was an exercise- a sadistic one. You had pissed her off the night before because you had refused to let you cut your hair. She had cut it all off, every last inch, after she had beaten you into submission by quite literally killing you. This was the second part of your punishment.

She told you that there is a Lich hiding in the castle and her expectations of you were high- you are not to receive even a single scratch and the Lich needed to be dead. The punishment for not meeting these expectations? You would go without eating for a week and you would be locked away in the basement- not allowed to leave or see Tessa. You killed the lich, but you were horrifically mauled in the process because you couldn’t find the key. It was a long week in that dark, cold, horrible basement. Dahlia had also hired Abdirak to reinforce how horribly you fucked up.

Astarion absentmindedly puts his hand on yours and gives it a reassuring squeeze- trying to disrupt the spiral you’re evidently about to go into. You look over at him and Astarion feels like he could melt. You look at him with so much gratitude and as if he is the most important person who has ever walked this earth. Gods he has really really fucked up his plan.

The game has continued to go on without the two of you and suddenly everyone is staring at you both.

“Did you both not hear the question?” Karlach snorts while wiggling her eyebrows.

You both look at each other and you laugh awkwardly before turning back to Karlach.

“Repeat?”

“Never have I ever felt romantically towards any form of vampire,” Wyll states, “Gale, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart have had their shots already- so now we are just waiting on you two.”

Astarion doesn’t even have to think about it- which could partially be because of how intoxicated he currently is- obviously he is taking a shot.

He pours some more alcohol in yours and his glasses- then looks at you. This is about when his drunk mind realizes that he is basically stating, “I like you, but do you like me?” With his actions and that there is still the possibility that you could reject him. He did fling a Gnome you were trying to save into the air today- not the most attractive thing a person can do. (It was kind of worth it though).

“Cheers?” He says with a smirk on his face- hoping his eyes don’t reflect how nervous he feels.

You squint your eyes at him playfully before clinking the glass, “Cheers.”

Karlach claps her hands excitedly and Wyll’s eyes are sparkling while he looks at her. Shadowheart also smiles widely at the display of support.

You and Astarion have been speculating who Karlach is going to end up with for days now- Dammon is still a possibility, but you both have decided that it’s least likely. Astarion thinks Shadowheart and you think it will be Wyll. There’s 100 gold on the line for whoever wins. If it ends up being Dammon though? Well you will both drink and commiserate together about how blind you had both been.

It’s your turn now and you look directly at Astarion, he isn’t sure how he feels about the mischievous glint in your eyes. Then you say your sentence out loud and he feels a laugh bubble up from his lungs.

“Never have I ever flung a Deep Gnome from a windmill.”

Astarion falls off the log- laughing just as hard as he had done earlier- as you regale the group with the story. Gods it had been such a wonderful experience- the look on your face had been priceless. He also silently appreciated that you were far more impressed with his loophole than upset about his actions.

The goodies of the group castigate him, but they are all laughing equally as hard as the both of you are. You paint a very vivid picture using hand gestures and words that Astarion has been teaching you in common to describe things. He relishes in how lovely and lively you are- Alcohol is such a wonderful thing. He can just enjoy you without that horrible nagging in his head that even being involved with you anymore is a bad idea.

When Astarion finally finishes laughing- he happily takes another shot.

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