Tiefling Tav - Tumblr Posts

Your writing is soooo good! I've loved everything you've done .

Could I give a prompt of Zevlor X Tiefling Tav ( purple Tielfing )

That after she's rescued the tieflings from moonrise and discovered that Zevlor is missing. There heart breaks as they think they now have forever missed the chance to tell him there true feelings 💔

But they take that anger and sadness and fight kethric and when they find zevlor and maybe bring him with them to finish the fight ( I wish we could bring him with us in game )

Anyway they get back to camp and Tav ignores everyone and looks for zevlor and when they find him they hug him and there tail wraps around his.

(Thank you so much for the request!! I hope you like it 🧡)

Lost Chance? (Zevlor x Tiefling Tav)

You sneaked into the prison area of Moonlight Towers, looking for the tiefling refugees here.

When you heard what happened it was out of question for you to get them out of here, they were your kind after all and you grew fond of them, sharing the same burden of judgement the people held against tieflings.

You still didn't believe that Zevlor just betrayed them. There had to be more to it than just that and you had to talk to him about it.

When you found the prison cells you were happy to finally have found them. Lia stood at the front of the cell, telling you to talk to the gnomes in the other cell as they seemed to plan something.

And so you did. It wasn't easy to find a way to talk to them without the prison guards starting to be suspicious of you but you managed. Wulbren had asked for something to break through the walls of the cell and you threw an heavy weapon you had with you inside the cell, careful not to be caught in the act.

You were sure you had to fight the guards around anyway so you thought it would be a good option to use as a distraction of what the gnomes and tieflings did in the cells.

The gnomes had quickly destroyed the wall in their cell, revealing a tunnel to the tiefling's cell and to a small boat.

They waited before they left, obviously unsure where to go.

Scanning the group of them you didn't notice Zevlor being with them. Was he not here?

"Is Zevlor not with you?", you asked them.

"They brought him somewhere else, no idea what kind of plan they had for him.", Cal responded.

You were stunned and shocked. It couldn't be. Did they torture him? Or kill him right away? Your mind was wandering on all the worst scenarios and you couldn't stop feeling helpless.

He couldn't be dead. It just couldn't be.

It would mean you missed your chance to tell him how you felt for him.

You didn't know him for a long time, yet you couldn't help feeling warm whenever you talked to him, feeling comfortable yet nervous, feeling your heart beat faster when he just looked at you. There was no way you could deny your feelings for him and right in that moment you felt lost.

Zevlor wasn't here and knowing how cruel the Absolute was it wouldn't be a surprise to you if they had killed him. And realizing that was like a hit in the stomach.

You missed your chance.

Or that's what you believed when you were fighting Ketheric. Your anger and frustration obviously showing and it made the fight on the roof of Moonrise towers a short one, when Ketheric disappeared into the Mindflayer colony.

Following him you noticed the amount of tunnels formed inside of the colony and finding the way towards Ketheric would probably take a while.

Stumbling through the many tunnels and finding one dead end after the other you walked into a room with some of the pods you had been in as well a while ago. The first one of them showed a Mindflayer while the next one was empty.

When your eyes saw the third one you couldn't believe your eyes for a second. Zevlor was stuck in there.

He was alive.

Your hands found the mechanism opening the pods in no time and you didn't care about the Mindflayers you had to fight. You would fight hundreds of them if you had to.

The fight was a short one, Zevlor fighting with you and his blade easily cutting through the enemies.

Still in disbelieve you watched as his blade cut through the last enemy. He turned around to you, blood covering his face aside his tired expression and yet you couldn't find him any less attractive than the last time you had seen him.

"Thank you. I really thought it was over for me.", he said, his face showing relief.

You tried holding back any emotions trying to run through your body, after all you still had to fight and defeat Ketheric.

"I'm glad we have found you. I was worried when I didn't see you with the others.", you said.

"The others.. what happened to them?"

His voice was heavy with guilt and you were curious to hear his part of the story once you got out of here.

"I saved all I could. Some where in prison here but they are safe."

"I have no right worrying about them but I can't thank you enough for saving them once again."

"Would you join me in the next fight? I could use your help.", you asked him and hoped he won't refuse. You couldn't stand the thought of him being out of your sight again.

"I don't think this is a good idea, the Absolute made me turn against my people once already and I don't want to find my blade in your back.", he said, his face showing worry and defeat.

"I trust you. Please join us.", you said. Your eyes were locked with his as he tried to find a way to say no to you. He looked at you for a few seconds before a sigh left his lips.

"I will do my best to assist you.", he finally replied and you were happy to have him with you in the upcoming fight.

Knowing him by your side made you feel at ease and even more so when you defeated Ketheric.

It was a lot to take in, yet you pushed most of the information to the back of your mind, your priority was to have a chance to talk to Zevlor outside of the Mindflayer colony you were still in.

Your camp was set up inside of Moonrise towers today as you successfully defeated all the enemies inside of here.

Aylin and Isobel were the first to approach you, Jaheira tried a moment later, yet you turned them down and told them you would talk later.

You just wanted to find Zevlor right now.

He was standing outside of the door to Moonrise towers, looking into the distance while he was obviously deep in thought with his back facing you.

"Zevlor.", you called out his name and he turned around. Thats when you collided with his chest, the impact made him take a step back or he would have fallen, your arms around his waist and your face burried in his chest.

You stood there for a moment when you felt his arms slowly close around you, pressing you closer to his body and his head resting against yours.

Your tail searched for his, wrapping around it slowly and you felt him do the same. Tails wrapped around each other many times, twisted together like you never wanted to let go of him.

Thats when you couldn't hold your emotions back anymore. You quietly sobbed into his chest and he held you even closer.

"I thought I had lost you.", you sobbed, having a hard time forming words with the sobs shaking through your body.

His hands caressed your back, trying to calm your shaking form and offer some comfort.

"I am here. You saved me again and I can't thank you enough for it.", he whispered into your ear.

He held you like that for a while, chest moving with his steady breathing that camled you down while your sobs became less frequent.

You loosened the embrace, wiping your face and hiding your face from him.

"Sorry, I shouldn't be such a mess right now."

His hands found your cheeks and lifted your face to look at him.

"No need to apologize. You can cry on my shoulder anytime you need.", he said quietly.

Your eyes wandered over his face, blood still clinging to his skin and his eyes full of worry. His thumbs wiped over your cheeks to remove the tears, who were still wet on your skin and you relaxed into the simple caress of his fingers.

"I really thought I had lost my chance to tell you..", you whispered and he looked at you like he was waiting for you to continue talking. "I love you, Zevlor. I know we didn't have much time together and we don't know each other well but I can't help feeling-"

He cut you off with his lips on yours. Your eyes were wide for a moment, trying to realize what is happening before you closed them and relaxed into the kiss. Lips softly moving against each other, his hands still cupping your face, holding you gently while your tails were still wrapped around each other.

"I feel the same.", he whispered when you had parted for a moment, only to find you press your lips onto his again.

Meet My Tavs: Idris Baines

Idris is a case where the lore does what I say it does and timelines ware whatever is most convenient for me, for instance the fact that they exist in the same universe as one of my Durges, Kieran. So!

Idris is a Sorcerer, as in they are born with a capacity fir magic but they get into bardic magic really early, so they assume it's just the bardic magic. Essentially that inate magic just makes them an insanely powerful bard.

Idris is born in Eltûrel to their two moms (one of whom is technically their step mom because them and their brother are children born of a deal made by their mama and Mephistopheles). They also have an older brother Eryx who's surprisingly plot relevant.

But when Eltûrel is dragged to and back from Avernus Idris is just a kid and was separated from their family, leaving them to wander the world in search of them. They pick up more bardic talents on the way for survival.

They grow up on the streets of Faerûn, hopping from village to city to village to city, hoping to find any sign of their family or to make a big enough impression as a Bard that they start making enough money to fund a much better search.

On the way they run into the very same group of refugees they find in Act 1, and stick with the refugees for a while, even dating Rolan. But they find a lead on their parents and disappear to follow it, leaving them all behind.

The lead takes them weeks to follow but eventually leads to Baldur's Gate. While there they manage to secure a gig that could be their big break, but on the way they're snatched by the Nautaloid.

The last detail that I won't expand upon here but I feel the need to mention: The Emperor takes on the appearance of Eryx.

Meet My Tavs: Atlas Heretic

Born Melantha Keylan, Atlas's parents were a young couple in the small village of Silverfell, who's only claim to anything was the temple to Lathander. Neither of them knew a pact to Asmodeus ran in the father's bloodline, so they were apalled when their baby came out pale as death with white eyes and dark blue hair. Worst of all, were the little nubs on their forehead, surely representing horns.

They gave the baby to the Temple of Lathander, who were determined to cleanse the baby. Atlas grew up believing himself to be some wretched, evil thing. A devil that needed to be purified and cleansed. He didn't even protest when the priests carved runes into his face and neck or tattooed his forehead. Then ze grew up. The older they got the harder it was to believe the priests' lies. It all came to a head when they overheard the High Priest contemplating cutting off zir horns.

They fled the temple and, as luck would have it, stumbled across a group of tieflings who were passing through the village. It was from them he found out ze wasn't a devil, just a tiefling, and that there wasn't anything wrong with them. It was also from them that ze learned of the common tiefling practice of naming themselves after wishes, goals, and identities. So Melantha became Atlas Heretic and ze never turned back.

They went with the Tieflings to Baldur's Gate but split off quickly, refusing to rely on or trust anyone ever again. Ze decided that if the world was going to treat them like a criminal then that was what he would be. Ze had a knack for stealth and sleight of hand, so ze ended up a master criminal and infamous theif that also refused allegiance with anyone, driving Nine-Fingers mad. Ze would also commit the occasional assassination, but had very strict rules and it had to be an insane amount of money.

Ze was on a rooftop in the Upper City staking out a job and waiting for night when the Nautiloid got a hold of them.

aaaand i call this gifset “Seraphina serving charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent in any lighting”

i saw other people’s cute versions of this so naturally here is seraphina and gale 🥺

2 absolute idiots in love

picrew

Aeterna Amantes

Lovers forever. Until the world falls down.❞

What Am I Supposed to Do (But Sink My Teeth in You?)

pairing: Astarion/f!Tav | Astarion/f!OC (Ysera) rating: 18+ MDNI word count: 6.7k tags/warnings: shameless smut, piv sex, fingering, pwp, sex pollen, established relationship, multiple orgasms, minor spoilers for Act 3 ──────── summary: It takes no more than fifteen seconds for Astarion to pick the lock, dexterous hands finessing the pins into place with unmatched ease. Ysera's too busy focusing on his fingers to hear it click before the door swings open, preoccupied with how those same precise movements have taken her apart beneath him time and time again. And how badly she wants to experience them now. ────────────────────────────── In the heat of battle, Ysera unknowingly casts an aphrodisiac spell on herself. With her resolve waning, Astarion is more than happy to let her whisk him away. AO3 ┊ masterlist

“You think that's the last of ‘em?”

Karlach lifts the heft of her greataxe over her head and rolls her shoulders. Gale is busy smoothing out his robes, and Astarion is wrenching his arrows out of several of the Bhaalist cultists he felled, tucking the good ones away for future use. 

It feels wrong to leave the bodies out in the open, but there's nowhere here to hide them. The commotion had driven the would-be onlookers away, but now it's only a matter of time before Gortash’s Steel Watch descends upon them. It's better to avoid any potential conflict if they can, even if they have declared one another temporary allies.

“Probably not,” Ysera groans, turning her eyes away from the carnage. Her magic had taken its toll on their assailants, ripping and tearing and burning through them with a ferocity that had surprised even her. 

The last week has been… a lot, if she's honest. Between the revelation of the Emperor's true identity to the quakes that have shaken the city – not to mention the small army of bloodthirsty minions Orin has sent to slaughter them – it's more than any of them bargained for. A thousand smaller fires popping up everywhere and running them ragged.

It would have been difficult enough if those were the extent of their troubles. Ever since they reached the city, Ysera's magic has been increasingly erratic and unpredictable, and the incinerated corpses at her feet are only a single instance of the destruction she has unleashed. 

Her blood always runs hot with adrenaline after a battle, but now… she feels even more strange than normal, a wave of delicious heat snaking its way through her body and curling low in her belly. She bites her lip and glances among her companions, grateful none of them seem to have heard the quiet moan that has just slipped past her lips.

Instead, they're looking at Astarion, who has already taken a stance with his arms crossed over his broad chest, expression twisted into a grimace.

“Honestly,” he gripes, scoffing. “You leave the city for five minutes and everything goes straight to shit. What’s next? Ghosts? Hoards of the undead?”

Gale's saying something now, finger in the air as he nods sagely, but Ysera hears none of it. When Astarion glances in her direction, the way his eyes widen before narrowing in silent acknowledgement sends another intense wave of pleasure through her, and her heartbeat quickens under his scrutiny.

Has he always been this handsome? Her gaze sweeps over his face, admiring the way his ivory skin almost seems to glow as the sun makes its descent below the horizon and the deep, shifting reds of his eyes that draw her in like a moth to a flame. His muscles flex beneath his armor as he steps forward, and she sucks in a breath when his scent reaches her. The heat has moved to her face, but it's more than embarrassment that's coloring her cheeks.

“ – okay?”

“Huh?” Ysera reluctantly looks from Astarion to Gale, whose brow is furrowed in concern.

“I asked if you were okay. Forgive me, but you appear to me to be quite feverish. I have just the remedy for that back at the Elfsong,” he says, flashing her a broad smile. “A delicious herbal tea that’ll have you feeling right as rain in no time flat.”

“I – I'm fine,” she says quietly, shaking her head. “It's probably just the heat.” Ysera catches a glimpse of Astarion's face on the edge of her periphery, his expression anything but convinced. She's certain he can already scent her growing arousal, despite the way she's got her legs pressed tightly together beneath her robes.

Even if she doesn't know exactly what's causing her current predicament, she does know one thing: she needs to be alone, or at least somewhere else with no one but Astarion. Already her mind is becoming hazy, her only dominant thoughts of Astarion and Astarion alone.

Bare-chested. Hair unkempt as it falls over his eyes. The way his fangs gleam in the light before he pulls her close and pierces her eager flesh. The way only she has seen him.

Her mouth is dry, tongue like sandpaper as she swallows thickly.

“You two should go on ahead,” she suggests, the inflection of her voice surprisingly steady. “There's something else I want to show Astarion before we head back.” If she avoids Astarion's discerning gaze, she can almost pretend it's nothing but an innocent request.

Karlach seems suspicious and lifts an inquisitive brow, but she shrugs and says nothing. Ysera silently thanks her for her compliance.

“If you're certain,” Gale says. His eyes flit to Astarion, who nods despite the worry clearly etched across the wizard's face. “I'll steep a kettle for you just in case.”

“Don't be late for supper,” Karlach says over her shoulder as she and Gale turn to leave, “Or I'm eating your portion again!”

“It was one time,” Ysera whines, heaving a heavy sigh.

The moment they're out of sight, she grabs Astarion by the wrist. He sputters in surprise at her sudden urgency but lets himself be pulled down a series of narrow side streets, before they slip into the first alleyway they find. Thankfully, they're alone, attracting only the occasional glance from people passing by.

“Are you going to tell me what the hells this is all about?” Astarion demands as Ysera slumps against the wall. She runs a hand over her face. Gale was right; she's feverish and unsteady on her own two feet, relying on the wall to keep her upright. The stones feel cool against her back, a momentary but welcome distraction.

“I don't know,” she says piteously, biting back a whimper as the friction of pressing her thighs together becomes suddenly unbearable. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

“Like what?” Astarion presses. Instinctively, he stands between Ysera and the mouth of the alleyway, keeping her hidden from view. She looks a mess, hair falling out of the ribbon she usually ties it back with, eyes half-lidded and mouth open slightly as she stares at him with what he can only describe as desperation in her eyes.

“Like if you don't touch me, I'll go mad.”

Perhaps she already has.

Astarion tentatively reaches out towards her, intending to take her face in his hands, but Ysera recoils from him instantly. Hurt flickers in his eyes, masked quickly by confusion.

“I don't understand,” Astarion says. “Did you not just tell me that you wanted me to touch you?”

“I know,” Ysera replies, fixing him with an apologetic look. “But it's not fair to burden you with this. It's my problem to solve. If I could just find somewhere quiet, I could take care of this myself, I could just –”

Her rambling thoughts come to a screeching halt when Astarion lays his hand firmly on her shoulder. She instinctively leans into the touch, sighing softly. The roaring inferno inside her body is contained, but not completely extinguished. Already she can feel her renewed desire for him pushing away every other insignificant thought that flits even briefly through her mind.

“Don't be stupid,” he mutters, though not unkindly. “If it's your problem, it automatically becomes my problem. That's how this whole relationship thing is supposed to work, right? Do you honestly expect me to just stand by while you suffer right in front of me?”

His concern makes her heart ache for him all the more, his inexperience and uncertainty writ plainly across his face nothing short of endearing.

“I'm not asking you to,” she clarifies, mouth pressed into a firm line. She takes a deep, bracing breath, wringing her hands in her lap as she sits on a discarded wooden crate. “I just don't want you to feel obligated to do this, even for my sake. We don't even know what this is, or that anything you could do would help.”

Astarion's gaze softens. Of course she would put him first, even now. He looks at her with nothing but affection playing across his features, glad she isn't watching when he smiles despite himself. If it was anyone else, he knows he would be far less forgiving.

But he will always make an exception for her.

“Ysera, look at me.”  She shudders when his fingers slip beneath her chin, beckoning her to lift her gaze. The sound of her name sounds so lovely on his tongue, saccharine and sweet as honey, and with grim determination, she obeys.

Shadows have long since flooded the alley as the moon begins to rise overhead, but from this distance Ysera can easily make out every detail of his face. He looks resolute as he finally gathers her face in his palms, smoothing the pad of his thumb over her cheek.

“I'm not offering to do anything I don't already want to do. You have my word.”

His tone brokers no room for rebuttal.

Ysera pushes herself to her feet, her restraint waning. “Good,” she says, “because I don't know how much longer I’m going to last if you keep looking at me like that.”

Astarion huffs a laugh, threading their fingers together. He knows that just the contact of his bare skin is enough to overstimulate her, but neither of them trusts her feet to lead her without guidance. Ysera holds his hand tightly, following him out of the alley and into the winding back streets of the Lower City. She keeps her head down, focused only on putting one foot in front of the other.

Desire ripples through her every time Astarion tightens his grip to pull her around another corner, and she finds it nearly impossible to contain the moans and whimpers that make it past her lips.

Astarion finds what he's looking for before long, a small flat tucked away on a dimly lit street. The windows are boarded, and the door is secured behind an impressive looking lock – in short, the exact kind of place where no one will disturb them.

When the coast is clear, he releases Ysera's hand, retrieving the set of lockpicks he always keeps stowed away in his pocket. It takes no more than fifteen seconds for Astarion to pick the lock, dextrous hands finessing the pins into place with unmatched ease. Ysera's too busy focusing on his fingers to hear it click before the door swings open, preoccupied with how those same precise movements have taken her apart beneath him time and time again. And how badly she wants to experience them now. When he takes her by the hand and pulls her inside the tiny space, the renewed sensation of his cool, marble skin against her own searing heat drags a guttural moan from somewhere deep in her chest. She laughs breathlessly, drunk on her own arousal, and follows him inside.

A cursory glance confirms what Astarion already knew: the place is unoccupied. It's a good thing too, because she'd likely tell him to take her in the nearby alley otherwise, and he's not convinced Ysera has enough forethought to be quiet enough for that anymore.

Normally, he wouldn't care about the impropriety – he's guilty of far worse, after all – but this situation is far from normal. She is his – the first person he could truly call his own – and he will share neither her nor her pleasure with anyone.

Ysera's back hits the door as Astarion advances on her. He wastes no time before burying his face into the crook of her neck, featherlight kisses pressed into the smooth scars there as he inhales the scent of her hair. Ysera moans again and arches her back. Her hands fly into his hair, caressing the sensitive points of his ears.

A shuddering groan rumbles in his throat, bottom lip caught between his teeth. She repeats the motion, and his hips buck against her, a flash of white-hot arousal setting his nerves alight. 

Oh, she is dangerous when she wants to be.

With their bodies flush against one another, he can feel the way her body trembles at even the slightest touch, the symphony of the Weave in her veins. Her magic roars into a crescendo, threatening to overtake them both, but Astarion slips his hands into hers again, entwining their fingers at either side of her head.

His tadpole reaches out, connecting them together. The link comes so easy now, so effortless in the way that everything has become with her.

I am not afraid, he tells her. I'm right here with you. My heart, my love.

Pride surges within him as he feels the tension in Ysera's body ebb away beneath his tender affirmations. She finds his eyes when he lifts his head to look at her, the softness of his gaze a testimony to his devotion. She rests her forehead against his brow, his scent more calming now that she's beneath him, but no less alluring.

Bergamot. Rosemary. Brandy.

The scent of home, the truest one she's ever known.

I love you, she tells him.

She gives his hands a squeeze and releases a breath. Her mind conveys the words her mouth can't seem to form.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

When the racing of her heart has grown less frantic, Astarion dips his head low again and deliberately drags his fangs across the column of her neck and the soft curves of her jaw, and she whimpers with need before he captures her mouth in a bruising kiss. It drives him mad, how eager she is to taste him, lips parting as their tongues meet between panting breaths. 

All it takes is a light press of his palms against the backs of her thighs for her to know what he wants, letting him hoist her up so she can latch her legs around the small of his back. With her arms thrown over his shoulders for extra support, Astarion spins her around without breaking the kiss, carrying her partway across the room.

In a stunning moment of clarity, Ysera's eyes fly open, and she reluctantly tears her mouth away from his fevered kisses.

“Wait. We shouldn't – this is someone's home, isn't it? We can't just…”

She's panting now, fighting every instinct in her body that calls out to him. He can see it in her eyes, pupils blown wide, hair spilling in loose, disheveled waves over her shoulders. Her grip on him tightens, and Astarion watches with rapt attention the moment she feels the ridge of his hardening cock brush against her backside.

Even when her mind is so addled with lust she can barely think straight, she still has the presence of mind to worry about the morality of what they're doing. It's so very like her that he can't help but laugh.

“Relax, my love,” he reassures her, pressing a series of indulgent kisses across her face. But instead of leashing her desire for him, it merely fans the conflagration blazing inside her.

“Take a look around; whoever lives here clearly hasn't been home in quite some time. They won't even know we were here.”

He's right, of course. Aside from the neglected furniture, the most abundant thing in the room is the thick coat of dust that covers every surface within view. 

When he sees she's satisfied, Astarion carries Ysera the rest of the way across the tiny living space, depositing her on the oak writing desk in the corner of the room. He nestles himself between her spread legs, and the slow drag of his cock against her clothed core makes her tremble so much she accidentally knocks an old inkpot off the desk, where it shatters on the stone floor.

She pouts at him disapprovingly.

“They will if you keep doing that.”

“Want me to stop?” he asks, already leaning in to lavish more attention on her neck while his hands slip beneath her robes, searching for the swell of her breasts.

Ysera's breath hitches when his hands touch her bare skin, and she throws her head back with a satisfied sigh.

“No.”

A wolfish grin finds its way to Astarion's lips.

“I didn't think so.”

With her robes pushed open, the fabric falls down over her shoulders, exposing her collarbones and the tops of her breasts beneath her brassiere. Astarion palms at them beneath the cotton fabric, lips pressed against her throat as Ysera arches her back into his touch. He loses his resolve the moment he feels her nipples stiffen beneath his fingers, nearly tearing the garment off of her in his haste to enjoy her properly.

Ysera's breasts settle warm and heavy in Astarion's hands, and when he sweeps across her nipples and pinches the taut buds between his thumbs and forefingers, she cries out and rolls her hips against him. Her legs shake on either side of him, an indication that she's already close to coming undone for him. He had intended to take his time with her, but it seems as if whatever has taken hold of her has other plans in mind.

“Not just yet, my sweet,” he drawls, drinking in the delicious little noises she makes for him as he kisses her deeply. “We've only just begun.”

Ysera whines in protest when Astarion pulls away from her kiss-swollen lips, leaving her breathless and panting. But when Astarion sinks to his knees on the stone before her, she sucks in a breath, enraptured by the sight of him between her thighs. She's already kicked off her boots by the time Astarion slips his fingers beneath the waistband of her pants, and as she lifts her hips off the desk, one good tug pulls them down past her knees along with her underwear.

With the rest of her clothing quickly discarded, Astarion pushes Ysera's legs apart, greedily taking in the sight of her naked body. Her sun-kissed skin looks absolutely stunning, her slick core quivering as she stares down at him through her lashes.

Ysera leans back against the smooth wood grain, propping herself up on her elbows. The conflagration within her is all-consuming, her need for him encompassing every fiber of her being.

“Astarion…”

“Yes, my dear?” Astarion runs his tongue over the tips of his fangs, balancing her legs over his shoulders as he presses a series of slow, teasing kisses along the expanse of her thighs. Ysera whimpers and squirms beneath him, her arousal pooling onto the oak desk beneath her. She grasps blindly at the shelves behind her, gripping them so tightly the wood nearly splinters.

“What is it?”

“Please,” she begs, holding her breath as Astarion moves ever closer to the place she needs him most. “Make me come.”

A low, gravely chuckle rumbles in Astarion's throat.

“With pleasure.”

He's surprised she doesn't unravel the moment he presses his nose against her clit and drags his tongue through her slick folds, even as the feel of his mouth on her punches a long, languid moan from her. Ysera's entire body tenses as she squeezes her eyes shut, only for them to open moments later when his lips wrap around the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. He sucks gently and alternates the pressure of his lips, employing decades of practice and the intimate knowledge he has of her body to make her instantly delirious.

The oak desk groans as Ysera fights against her body, hips undulating as she struggles not to write too much beneath Astarion's mouth. His hands glide over her waist, holding her in place as he feasts on her, groaning when her cunt clenches around nothing. He'd normally have a sly remark prepared for just such an occasion, but the taste of her is too intoxicating, and he's loathe to stop pleasuring her for even the short moment it would take to tell her how much he's enjoying the way she murmurs and whines and begs for more.

He revels in bringing her this uncontested pleasure, safe in the knowledge that no one has ever made her feel so whole, so complete. His eyes rise to meet her own, so dark with lust that the rich gold of her irises has become like molten honey. She watches him with rapt attention, committing the moment to memory as best she can.

With several quick flicks of his tongue, Astarion brings Ysera to the very precipice of her climax, fingers curling into the soft flesh around her hip bones as his name tumbles from her mouth like a mantra. But before she can find her release, he purposely pulls away, much to her dismay. She knows what he intends to do, to draw out and intensify her pleasure, but tonight she lacks the patience required to be teased so cruelly.

Ysera locks her ankles around his shoulders and coaxes him back against her, groaning in relief when Astarion resumes his exploration. Nose pressed firmly against her clit, he slips his tongue inside her, a slow, torturous drag that leaves her gasping around her broken cries of pleasure.

“Please,” she begs again, head thrown back as an intense wave of ecstasy builds within her. “It's so good, you're so good, Astarion, Astarion –”

She's so close now, babbling incoherently as every swipe of his tongue unravels the final threads holding her together. She grinds her hips against Astarion’s face, losing herself in the feel of him against her flushed and oversensitive core.

“That's right, love,” he growls against her, “let go. I've got you.” He thrusts his tongue deep inside her, pressing into the spot that drives her past the point of no return.

With a ragged cry, Ysera comes undone, back bowing off the desk as she rides the cresting wave that crashes over her with such ferocity that she almost loses complete control over her body. The wood beneath her hands collapses, the desk ruined beyond repair as Astarion guides her through her climax with gentle but persistent licks of his tongue. She tastes divine, and his cock strains itself against his laces, eager to be inside her.

When Ysera finally comes down from her high, Astarion rises to his feet, face still slick with her arousal. Her chest heaves with each gasping breath she takes, vision hazy as his face floats into her field of view.

“It seems you don't know your own strength, darling,” he teases her, a lopsided grin plastered across his features as he surveys what's left of the old desk.

“‘S… your fault…” she mutters between breaths, absolving herself of whatever meager guilt she feels about it. Truth be told, she stopped caring the moment his mouth dipped between her thighs.

Astarion fixes her with an affectionate look, gathering her into his arms and letting her wrap her legs around his waist. “You're still burning up, darling,” he murmurs, nestling his face again in the crook of her neck. The coolness of his skin is less intense than before, but the heat simmering in her core hasn't abated entirely. She clings to him, fingers carding through his soft curls as he kisses her flushed skin, chasing the thrum of her pulse through her veins.

“It's not that bad,” she assures him. “Not like before. But I still…”

“Hmm?” he prompts, dragging his nose along her neck and nipping gently at her earlobe. “Tell me what you need.” Palms splayed across her back, he caresses the curve of her spine, tracing idle patterns over her sweat-slicked skin.

Her voice is hoarse, raw from overuse, and she swallows thickly. “I want…” Ysera hesitates before correcting herself, “need – need you. Inside.”

“Oh, love.” Astarion's lips are impossibly gentle as he kisses her, soft and slow, letting her taste herself on his tongue. The sweetness of her arousal mingles with the salt of her sweat, a heady ambrosia that stokes the sleeping embers within her back to life.

“Let me make it better, sweet girl.”

Astarion lifts her back into his arms and carries her the short distance to the bed, laying her gently on the duvet. The mattress is surprisingly soft, and Ysera sinks into the sheets. Astarion peels his armor off, discarding it in a heap at his feet. Ysera watches him with bated breath, and he pauses halfway through undoing the laces of his trousers to huff a quiet laugh at the way her reverent eyes watch his every move.

He might as well put on a little show for her while he has her undivided attention. 

Astarion slides a hand over the sculpted muscles along his lower abdomen, fingers dripping just beneath the waistband of his pants. His eyes narrow, trained on Ysera's face as he takes his time undressing.

“Do you see,” he groans, hissing as the waistband of his pants and underwear brush over the weeping tip of his cock, “what you do to me? How badly I ache for you?” A fat bead of precome glides down the length of him, inciting her growing hunger. Saliva pools on her tongue, and she bites back a whimper as another wave of pleasure surges through her.

“Show me,” she says softly, a quiet, desperate plea. “Come and take your pleasure.”

She doesn't need to tell him twice. Astarion steps forward, catching the single beam of milky moonlight that spills in through the old planks nailed over the front windows. And just for a moment, Ysera almost forgets to breathe.

“How do you want me?” he asks, kneeling on the mattress at her feet. Ysera twists around, tucking a pillow below her stomach as she arches her back and spreads her legs wide. From this angle, Astarion can clearly see how eager she is to take him, thighs wet with the slick that drips obscenely from her waiting cunt.

“Hard,” she groans through gritted teeth. Her tail winds itself around his thigh, spaded tip twitching in anticipation. “Hard and deep.”

The husky growl in her voice sends a bolt of arousal straight through him, and Astarion's cock twitches with renewed interest. He strokes himself several times, stretching the soft foreskin over the swollen tip, a breathy, “A-ahh” slipping past his lips as the cool evening air caresses the arousal gathered there.

With one hand braced on the ample curve of her ass, Astarion guides himself forward, the blunt head of his cock barely slipping inside her before she moans and whines and rolls her hips against him. He pushes deeper, sheathing himself within her velvet heat, and although her body accommodates him with little resistance, she is still so fucking tight.

A low, satisfied groan builds in her throat, face pressed into the mattress as she adjusts to the fullness of him inside her. No matter how many times they've done this, each time feels like their first all over again, the delicious stretch of him as he fills her sending ripples of the sweetest pleasure coursing through her body.

“Fuck, Ysera,” Astarion groans, testing the feel of her with a few slow, shallow thrusts. Her walls pulse around him, encouraging him to fuck her harder, faster, just the way she wants.

And so he does.

Astarion snaps his hips forward, driving into her soaking cunt with every thrust, bottoming out each time he collides with the backs of her thighs. Ysera claws at the sheets, a string of oaths falling from her lips before she all but screams his name.

“That's my good girl,” Astarion praises her. “You're taking me so well, aren't you? Is this what you needed?”

Ysera fights to keep herself upright, her legs nearly buckling as he fucks into her hard and fast. He feels so good, so good, he's fucking her so good and she's already so close –

The hands anchored on her hips slowly slide up her back, fanning out over her shoulders before Astarion sinks them into the rosy pink waves of her hair. She lets out a choked sob when he wraps his hands around the base of her horns, holding her head aloft as he uses the extra leverage to find the sensitive spot deep inside her that makes her vision go white.

“Oh gods,” Ysera whines, her movements sluggish and clumsy as she shoves a hand between her legs and searches desperately for her clit. Astarion feels her fingers as they brush against the underside of his cock, and when she finally finds what she's looking for, it's only a matter of time before he makes her shatter.

“Come on my cock, Ysera,” he growls, primal and low. “Show me how good it feels. You can do that for me, can't you?”

“Yes,” she sobs, fingers rolling uncoordinated circles around her aching clit. “Yes, Astarion, yes…”

The pressure in her core is immense, a coiled spring waiting to snap, and when it finally becomes too much to bear, she loses herself completely, coming hard around him even as he refuses to slow his brutal pace. Astarion fucks her through her second climax, rolling his hips to push himself as deep as he can while her toes curl and she collapses, boneless, beneath him.

It's a miracle he doesn't tumble over the edge after her, her slick walls pulsing rhythmically with her racing heartbeat. His body fights him every step of the way, but he withdraws from her completely, and she whimpers in protest at the loss of him.

“Shhh,” he soothes, helping Ysera onto her back when she no longer has the strength to do so herself. “It's all right, love.”

Ysera's eyes are half-hooded and drowsy, and she struggles to look at him. The gnawing hunger she's felt for him ever since the battle seems to finally have been sated, and even though her body is utterly exhausted, it's her mind that has regained some sense of clarity.

“Astarion,” she calls out to him, reaching for his hands in the darkness. Astarion takes hers in his own, bringing her fingers to his mouth to press a series of tender kisses against the soft skin between her knuckles. 

“Yes, darling?”

“What about you?”

He purposely hadn't finished, preoccupied with making certain she was satisfied before chasing his own pleasure, despite what she had instructed him to do earlier. Ysera frowns when he shakes his head, turning her face away when he bends down to kiss her.

“You deserve to feel good too,” she murmurs, and although she's quiet Astarion can hear the stubborn insistence in her voice. 

“Is that what you want?”

“I want you to enjoy yourself,” she clarifies. The intensity of her gaze would have brought a flush to his cheeks were such a thing possible, and he lets out a resigned laugh.

“If you're certain.”

Ysera scrunches her nose and rolls her eyes, taking his face in her hands and pulling him into a kiss. Astarion's mouth falls open when her tongue runs across the seam of his mouth, and he lets her kiss him for as long as she wants, savoring the way he sighs contentedly against her.

“You're still worried about me,” she realizes, gazing up into the rich, wine-dark reds of his eyes. His expression softens with something like guilt, concern clearly visible across his features.

“Can you blame me?” Astarion asks, cupping her jaw with one hand as he bends down to kiss her again. “You didn't see yourself the way I did.”

“Whatever it was, it's gone,” she reassures him. “I'm fine, I promise. But that doesn't mean you have to stop… not if you don't want to.”

When Astarion sits up, his eyes travel down the length of his body. His cock has grown soft already, even though he still feels a lingering urge to bury himself inside her once more.

“Ah…” he says sheepishly, “about that.”

Ysera's gaze follows the same path, and she flashes him a wicked grin.

“Let me take care of that for you, darling.”

She takes his soft cock in her hand, working him back to full hardness as she strokes the full length of him. Astarion's cock swells beneath her eager fingers, filling her palm, and he tips his head back and releases a languid moan when Ysera's thumb brushes over his tip. 

“Better?” she asks, already knowing the answer. But she wants to hear it from him anyway.

“Yes,” Astarion groans, pushing her legs apart with his knee and settling between them. He flashes her a sly grin of his own. “You're absolutely insatiable, you know.”

“What can I say?” Ysera laughs, giddy and still a bit fuck-drunk. “I'm a woman who knows what she wants.”

“Oh?” Astarion purrs, lifting her leg beneath the knee and spreading her open. His cock is fully hard by the time he slides it through Ysera's still-slick folds, teasing but not breaching her entrance. “And what, pray tell, is that exactly?”

“You,” she says without hesitation, pulling him down for another passionate, breathless kiss. “Always you. Only you. For as long as you'll have me, I'm yours.”

Astarion groans in satisfaction as he slips back inside her warm, waiting cunt, dragging his cock against her walls as he fucks into her slow and deep, savoring the feel of her around him.

“Forever,” he promises, rolling his hips into her and drinking in her soft, breathy moans. “Forever. You have brought me more happiness than I deserve, more than I even thought possible.” He keeps his pace steady, stoking the heat that roars to life within him, taking his time as he slowly builds himself up to his inevitable end. He wants to stay like this forever, enveloped in her warmth, her scent, her touch.

“No,” Ysera protests, her chest rising and falling with each rapid, shallow breath she draws in. “You deserve everything and more, do you hear me? I love you, Astarion. I love you.”

Their eyes meet briefly before Astarion dips his head and murmurs something incoherent against the shell of her ear. The pace of his thrusts quickens, and before she can question him, Ysera hears his voice in her mind, connected through their tadpoles. She sees her face reflected in her mind’s eye, writhing beautifully beneath him, the full force of his emotions flooding into her.

I love you too. My darling. My dearest. 

Gathering her hands in his, Astarion lifts Ysera's arms over her head, splaying her body beneath him and pinning her to the mattress. She whimpers his name and arches her back, unable to hold back her cries of pleasure when he angles his hips to brush repeatedly against her sweet spot.

“Is it good?” she asks, the question tapering into another whimper. That familiar pressure is already building, and she knows she'll tumble over the edge with him when the moment comes.

“Always,” is his swift reply. “I'm almost there… gonna come for you, feels so good…”

Ysera throws her legs around the small of his back, holding him closer. Astarion follows her lead, burying himself deep inside her with rapid, erratic thrusts that quickly begin losing their rhythm.

He won't last much longer, helpless to do anything but follow that tug that pulls him towards the precipice of oblivion.

“Just a little further,” Ysera encourages him, the words muffled against his lips as she leans up to kiss him. “Wanna feel you come…”

Astarion finally lets go, coming with a deep, shuddering groan. He buries himself to the hilt with one last thrust as he empties himself inside her, filling her with his spend as she cries out and swiftly reaches her own peak yet again. Her walls flutter and clench around him, prompting a few last thrusts before he pulls out of her completely once she stills beneath him.

Ysera feels weightless and blissfully numb as Astarion collapses behind her on the bed, sticky with sweat and equally spent. The air inside the flat is warm and damp as she inhales deeply, the scent of roses and bergamot and sex permeating every breath she takes. 

They lay there for a moment as an easy silence falls over them, listening to the quiet sounds of the city outside. After a while, Ysera glances over her shoulder at Astarion, who's only just rolled over onto his side towards her.

“Do you think Karlach will be mad we didn't make it back on time?” she asks with an awkward little laugh.

Astarion's face breaks into a sly grin.

“Hardly. I'm sure she'll be absolutely delighted to help herself to your share of supper again.”

Ysera's head falls heavily onto her pillow, and she hums thoughtfully. “Hmm… you know what?” she concludes. “I think you're right. We're practically doing her a favor by being so late.”

Astarion's arm wraps around Ysera's stomach and he presses his lips against the curve of her spine as he chuckles in agreement. “Exactly, darling. Now come here. I'm not quite ready to let you go just yet.”

He pulls her flush against his body, their legs tangling together over the sheets. Her warmth makes him feel alive in ways he never thought he could again, and the way she scoots back against him and lays her hand over his is only one of half a dozen constant reminders of how lucky he is to have her.

Ysera's eyes feel impossibly heavy. She's in no mood to return to the Elfsong just yet, and Astarion has no intentions of spoiling the moment. Together they drift off, content to enjoy their time together for as long as fate will let them. 

────────────────

Ysera's not certain what wakes her first: the muffled voices outside the flat as the city springs to life, or the singular sunbeam that slowly sweeps across her sleeping face. She squeezes her eyes shut and scrunches her face, rolling over to escape the bright light. When her hand reaches out and connects with something solid, her eyes fly open, and she finds herself face to face with Astarion, still deep in his trance.

He looks to be resting peacefully, his face placid in a way she's so rarely seen before. A slight smile graces the corners of his lips; whatever he's seeing, it must be something pleasurable.

And then it hits her. Morning. It's morning. 

Oops.

Ysera is hesitant to disturb Astarion, but they really shouldn't stay, and not only because they're trespassing. She indulges in the planes of his face for just a while longer, unable to hold back her smile. The serenity suits him in a way none of his sly smirks and devilish grins ever could.

His body is soft and cool as she snuggles against him, tucking her head against his chest.

“Astarion,” she says softly. “Astarion, wake up. You shouldn't have let me sleep so long.”

Astarion's eyes flutter open, and he drapes an arm around her, pulling her close. “You're welcome, darling,” he murmurs, voice heavy with sleep.

She grumbles in protest but lets him pull her up for a kiss all the same, his lips satin-soft against her own.

“At this rate, Karlach's going to eat my breakfast too,” she groans, fixing him with a look of distress.

“How unfortunate,” Astarion drawls, dragging his lips over Ysera's jaw, where he presses them against the thrumming vein on her neck. He finds the familiar spot he prefers when feeding, the smoothed-over scars that adorn the soft skin there. “Luckily for me, mine seems to have been delivered directly to me.”

“Oh no you don't,” Ysera huffs, palms flat against his chest as she pushes him away. “Keep those fangs to yourself.”

She rolls to the edge of the bed, Astarion's arm chasing after her in vain. He whines something about her being cruel, how he'll surely starve now that she's denied him his meal.

“I'll be lucky to make it back, even with all my blood,” she says, throwing a pout over her shoulder as she slips back into her clothes. “If I don't get something to eat soon, I think I might actually die.”

Astarion joins her before long, arms encircling her waist from behind as he rests his chin atop the crown of her head between her horns. He sighs into her hair, chuckling softly.

“We can't very well have that, now, can we?”

Ysera slips her hand into his, pulling Astarion towards the door and into the morning light. He follows her happily, basking in the sun's rays as the pleasant warmth seeps into his skin.

“After you, darling.”

Adrift : Chapter 6 - Into the Ocean

pairing: Astarion/f!Tav | Astarion/f!OC rating: 18+ MDNI word count: 6.2k tags/warnings: friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, smut chapter tags/warnings: mentions of trauma, manipulation, dissociation ────────── chapter summary: Astarion shushes her with nothing more than a finger over her lips. She leans into his touch without realizing it, and her eyes flutter closed. “You'll just have to trust me on that one,” Astarion insists. “You're not the monster you seem to think you are, love.” And for once, in the stillness of this moment, there is only, mercifully, him. No voices, no lingering doubts. No fear. AO3 ┊ masterlist | series masterlist

They've made camp in the abandoned village that lies between the Grove and the goblin camp, taking advantage of the beds they find and the buildings that are still standing.

Bed or not, Ysera's spent another night tossing and turning, caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness that's left her yawning and rubbing at her eyes as she, Astarion, and Shadowheart comb through upturned furniture and half-destroyed homes for anything of value they can use in a fight. The last time they came through they were too busy dealing with the half-dozen goblins and their ogre entourage to do much more than pocket a few bottles of wine and scraps of food before they made their way into the swamp to kill the hag.

Wyll, Gale, Karlach, and Lae’zel are somewhere on the other side of the village; better to split up and cover more ground, they had all agreed. 

As they pick over the remains of someone's kitchen, Astarion spots a hatch buried under an old cabinet. They're all too weak to lift it, so in lieu of Karlach's strong muscles and heavy axe, Ysera conjures a bolt of fire to disintegrate it. Sweeping the cinders away with her boot, she lifts the hatch and the three of them descend into the darkness below.

They can all see well enough, but Ysera speaks the incantation for Dancing Lights and illuminates the tiny cellar with a faint glow of pale blue light. There isn't much left besides a few rows of mostly empty shelves and barrels full of spoiled carrots, but they pocket whatever isn't already destroyed or rotten.

Shadowheart is the first to climb the ladder back up to the ground floor, complaining about the dust that's irritating her nose and causing her to sneeze profusely. Ysera's right behind her, but as her lights circle overhead, she catches sight of something that piques her interest.

Tucked away on top of an old desk is a small chest, sealed with a lock that glimmers in the magicked light. Upon closer inspection, the lock is worn but not completely rusted through, and the promise of potential treasure has her reaching into her pockets to fish out the thieves tools she tucked away before.

She could (and probably should) ask Astarion to do it for her. He's so much better at these sorts of things, but doing so would mean actually having to talk to him. She's been not so subtly avoiding him for the past three days, ever since the night he propositioned her. She's too embarrassed to pretend she's not interested. Ysera's never been good at deception, and that's without considering she'd be trying to lie to a man who can quite literally hear the way her heart would flutter and her pulse would quicken.

And so, she slips the picks into the lock and begins to test the pins, brows knit in concentration as she fumbles through the movements.

She feels Astarion behind her before he speaks, her body tensing at the sudden proximity of him.

“Oh, what's this?” he drawls in that infuriatingly mischievous tone of his. “Trying to keep all the goodies for yourself, are we? How scandalous.”

She's thankful her back is to him so Astarion can't see the frustration on her face.

“Not exactly,” Ysera sighs, still struggling with the lock. “I don't even know what's in here. If only I could get this damn thing open, then I could –”

Her heart leaps into her mouth when Astarion invades her space, chest pressed against the curve of her spine as his arms slip over her shoulders and his hands glide over her wrists.

“You're trying too hard to brute force it, darling,” he murmurs against her ear, fingers caressing the backs of her knuckles as he takes her hands in his. They're so much larger than hers, completely capturing them as he guides her movements with subtle flicks of his wrists.

Ysera feels the first pin lock into place with his assistance before Astarion moves onto the second. Her pulse drums loudly in her ears, mouth dry as she swallows thickly. The scent of him is rich and earthy, filling her nostrils with every deep breath she takes in a futile attempt to keep her composure. If Astarion notices – and he must notice the effect he has on her – he pays it no mind.

Another pin clicks into place. Only two more remain.

“See?” Astarion instructs, conducting her movements with precision. “You must be delicate. Gentle.”

She's hardly paying attention, but she nods anyway. She's trembling when she mutters a hasty, “O-okay,” squeezing her eyes shut. The last two pins slide into place before she realizes it, and the lock pops open with an audible click. But Astarion is no longer interested what's inside the chest. Instead, he sets his hands on the desk on either side of her, using the extra leverage to press the full length of his body against her. His breath is cool as it fans out across her neck, making her shiver with more than just anticipation.

"I can't help but notice that you've been keeping me waiting, darling,” Astarion says matter-of-factly. “Playing coy will only get you so far.”

Ysera opens her mouth to say something, then thinks better of it. She can't think straight when he's this close, flush against her and forcing her hand. Her voice comes out less firm than she intends when she says, “Well, Astarion, has it ever crossed your mind that maybe I just don't –”

“No,” he interjects, and Ysera doesn't need to see his face because she can hear the overconfidence dripping in his tone.

Insufferable bastard.

“You can lie to yourself,” he says coolly, “but not to me. I know what you want.” His hands settle over hers again, thumbs tracing idle patterns over her skin. “What you need. And I can give it all to you. You only have to ask.”

Ysera twists around to face him so her back is against the desk, narrowing her eyes. It's an immensely stupid idea, because the moment she meets his gaze, all sharp edges and practiced seduction, the brunt of her anger is smothered like a dying fire.

“And how is it, exactly, that you know what I need?”

Ysera doesn't know how she manages to maintain eye contact with him, issuing a bold challenge as she lifts her chin and sets her jaw. Astarion merely laughs at her little display, clearly more amused than intimidated.

She's stubborn. Astarion will enjoy humbling her.

“Why, your body's already given you away,” he says, eyes tracing a slow, purposeful path across her face and down her throat. “I could feel it when I was getting lost in your neck. Your little… shakes of excitement.”

He watches Ysera swallow thickly, her hands gripping the desk just a little too tightly for it to be casual.

“You think I enjoyed it?”

“Oh, no, darling. I know.”

The pink in Ysera's cheeks spreads down her neck, telling Astarion all he needs to know. He exposes his fangs in a wide grin, leaning forward just enough so that his mouth is hovering mere inches above her own.

If she lets him kiss her now, the game is over. They both know it. Ysera's eyes flutter closed and she breathes deep, resigned to letting Astarion make the decision for her. But just as his lips brush against her own, the sound of Shadowheart clearing her throat makes them both snap their attention towards her instead.

“I hate to interrupt,” she says sternly. “Actually, no, I don't, but is this really the time for such a thing? The others will be looking for us if we don't get back, and I am not telling everyone that the two of you are shacking up in some dusty cellar.”

She wrinkles her nose and grimaces at them both, clearly unimpressed. Ysera gets the feeling that she's scolding them like misbehaving children, which only makes this all the more humiliating.

“Then don't,” Astarion scoffs, unfazed. “Tell them we were waylaid by goblins and you fled in terror. We'll look so much more heroic when we miraculously reappear.”

Ysera is absolutely mortified when Shadowheart groans and rolls her eyes. “Do whatever you will. Just leave me out of it.” She ascends the ladder without further comment, making a statement by dropping the hatch closed behind her. 

The cellar is silent for a moment as Ysera and Astarion separate.

“I think she's jealous, don't you?” Astarion says, laughing in delight when Ysera reprimands him with a glare. He's all fangs and smug satisfaction, matching her energy with a sly wink before he strides past Ysera towards the ladder that leads back upstairs.

“Have it your way, darling,” Astarion says dismissively, taking the rungs in his hands as he begins to climb. “There are worse places I could have had you.”

Ysera blinks at him in disbelief, embarrassment, anger, and desire warring for supremacy within her mind. She watches him leave, remembering the unlocked chest at the last second as she retrieves her lockpicks and tucks them securely in her bag.

When she flips up the lid to take a look inside, she groans loudly before slamming it shut once more.

The chest is completely empty.

——————————————

There's a small lake not too far from where they decide to make camp for the evening, close enough that they'll reach the goblin camp early the next day, but not so close that they may end up attracting any unwanted attention before sunrise. After a day of hiking through the summer heat, Ysera's more than ready for a bath.

The lake is concealed behind a small grove of trees, giving her the first real moments of privacy she's had since their little adventure began. The water is cold as it laps against her shoulders, washing away the dirt and grime gathered on her skin. She's waded out just far enough to submerge herself, but not quite far enough to lose her footing. Even though the water here is calm, it doesn't change the fact that she still can't swim, and she's already avoided drowning once before.

The bar of soap she bought from the hag back at the Grove is surprisingly nice, lathering against her skin and smelling of lavender. Ysera scrubs her body clean and does what she can with her hair, relatively satisfied by the time she tosses it back into her pack on the shore. She returns to the water, simply content to relax as long as she can before whatever comes tomorrow. 

Ysera pinches the bridge of her nose and dunks her head back beneath the water. She tries opening her eyes but can't see much beyond the faint moonlight that illuminates the lake, and even then it disperses just below the surface. When she pops back up, the sight of Astarion watching her from the shore makes her sputter and frantically cover herself.

“There you are,” he says, as calmly as ever.

“Astarion!” Her voice cracks around the syllables of his name, betraying her embarrassment. “What are you doing out here?”

“You were taking an awfully long time, darling,” he points out, hands crossed nonchalantly over his chest. “Given recent events, I thought it best to make sure we didn't need to involve Withers. Can you believe he wants so much gold for a simple resurrection? What a creature like that even wants with coin is beyond me…”

“I'm fine,” Ysera assures him, offering him an apologetic smile. “Thanks for worrying about me.”

“You've got it all wrong,” Astarion corrects her with a wave of his hand. “It's my coin purse I'm concerned for, not you.”

“Uh-huh,” she says dismissively, rolling her eyes even though she's still smiling at him. “Well, I won't be long, so rest easy knowing your gold is safe.”

“Actually, I think I'd rather join you,” Astarion says, untucking the hem of his shirt from his trousers. When her flicks his gaze to her face, his mischievous smile is unmistakable. “If you don't mind, of course.”

“What?” Ysera sputters, flustered. “Here? Now?”

“Yes, of course,” Astarion replies, as if he hasn't just suggested something scandalous, lifting his shirt over his head and tossing it into the grass. “Unless there are any other conveniently located lakes around here suitable for bathing?”

She watches his hands settle over his laces as he waits for her to agree to his proposition. When Ysera nods and beckons him to join her, Astarion makes quick work of them, shimmying out of his pants as Ysera turns her back to give him some privacy. The last thing she wants is to be caught gawking at him.

With his clothing discarded, Astarion wades out into the lake, clenching his teeth as the icy water bites into his already frigid body. “Don't worry,” he tells her, catching her attention when she glances back at him over her shoulder. Hand over his heart, he says, “I'm not here for anything untoward, I assure you. Just a bath. You've made it more than clear you aren't interested in anything beyond my company.”

Ysera knows he's calling her bluff, daring her to admit to herself that she doesn't want him. There's something conflicting her – this much Astarion knows – although he can't begin to imagine what that might be. If only Shadowheart hadn't intervened before…

“I'm not entirely sure that's true,” Ysera says suddenly, much to Astarion's surprise. He turns towards her and cocks an inquisitive brow, prompting her to continue.

“Listen,” she says with a resigned sigh. Her expression is grim when she looks across the water at him. “I want to. I do. You're very… let's say, persuasive.”

She's finally admitted it, but the somber tone she's taken doesn't exactly suggest she's enthusiastic about the idea.

“It's just… it's been a long time since anyone's touched me. Like that, I mean. I don't want to hurt you.”

Astarion barks out a laugh, amusement dancing across his face even as Ysera frowns at him.

“You've nothing to worry about, darling. Your kind may be a bit, shall we say–” he pauses, searching for the correct word “– feral , but it's nothing I can't handle. Your teeth certainly aren't as sharp as mine, but I'll try anything once.”

“That's not what I meant, you ass,” Ysera grumbles, mortified by Astarion's insinuation. But the seriousness of the situation quickly sobers her, and she glances down at her upturned palms as she lifts them out of the water. She flexes her fingers and takes a deep, bracing breath.

“It's my magic. It's not always something I can command,” she explains. “It gets worse when I'm angry. Or when I…" Her cheeks go pink and warm. "Well, you get the idea. It hasn't been much of a problem yet, but it's only a matter of time until it happens.”

She refuses to look at him, unwilling to let him see the shame in her eyes. But when Astarion scoffs dramatically, she can practically hear the way his eyes roll. She forces her gaze up to meet his own.

Hands on his hips, Astarion says, “You mean to tell me that we have not one, but two ticking time bombs in our camp? How wonderful. And which goddess can I thank for your particular affliction?”

“I swear to the gods, Astarion,” Ysera deadpans. “I will electrocute you.”

Astarion shakes his head and arches his brows incredulously.

“And yourself along with me? No, darling – I don't think you will.”

Purple lightning arcs between her fingertips, illuminating the curve of her lips as she smiles a little too sweetly at him.

“Wouldn't I?”

“What are you – be careful!” he hisses, taking several large steps backwards, enough that he loses his balance and topples face first into the water. He resurfaces violently, embarrassed and grumbling under his breath like a wet cat. “Irresponsible, impossible woman. What have I done to deserve such an injustice?”

“Last I checked, you were the one courting me. You've no one to blame but yourself, darling ,” she says with a playful sneer, mimicking his preferred term of endearment.

Astarion stares at her, a deep frown marring his otherwise handsome features. He furrows his brow and scoffs, arms crossed over his bare chest as rivulets of water trickle down his neck and face. He's damn near pouting, and she revels in it.

“Irrelevant,” he mutters, turning his nose up like a petulant child. “It's hardly my fault you're being so… difficult about this.”

“I’m sorry for causing you such a terrible inconvenience by caring about your safety,” Ysera says solemnly behind an affectionate laugh. “That was very inconsiderate of me, and I promise it won't happen again.” 

The fact that he makes her laugh complicates matters even further. She isn't entirely immune to his attempts to seduce her, but it's the moments where she gets a glimpse of the man behind it all when she feels a genuine connection with him. A connection that's far more difficult to ignore than his pretty face and sultry voice.

A comfortable silence settles over them, and Astarion regards her thoughtfully for a few moments. He strides forward towards her without warning, stopping only a few paces away, close enough for Ysera to reach out and touch him if she wanted.

And she does want to. But her arms hang uselessly at her sides instead.

“You won't hurt me,” Astarion says. He says it like he's so sure, as if he hasn't seen and heard more than enough by now to know there's something inherently, irrevocably wrong with her. He says it not as though he's certain that he can protect himself, but as if that necessity won't even arise at all.

Is he arrogant, or just ignorant? He's seen her nightmares. He knows what lurks within her.

“How can you be so certain? You're not the first one who's –”

Astarion shushes her with nothing more than a finger over her lips. She leans into his touch without realizing it, and her eyes flutter closed. 

She's tired. Tired of running, tired of denying herself even the simplest of pleasures. Fear is a powerful motivator, but the only place left to run is straight into Astarion's arms. When the logical part of her brain screams at her to stop being so selfish, that it's never been about what she wants , she finally finds the strength to cast the thought away, choosing instead the low, enticing timbre of Astarion's voice as it washes over her like a soothing balm.

“You'll just have to trust me on that one,” Astarion insists. “You're not the monster you seem to think you are, love.”

And for once, in the stillness of this moment, there is only, mercifully, him. No voices, no lingering doubts. No fear.

Astarion's fingertips slide delicately beneath her chin, tipping her face up to meet her eyes, wet with tears she doesn't remember shedding. Gods, she never wanted him to see her this way. She averts her eyes, but he holds her firmly between his thumb and forefinger, compelling her not to hide from him.

“Ysera, look at me.”

There it is again, the use of her name, spoken so gently as though it might break. Reluctantly, she obeys, taking her time to drink in the sight of him as her eyes climb over the toned muscles of his chest, the solid line of his shoulders, the pinpricks on his neck that are a twin to her own where he has marked her.

At last, she gathers the courage to meet his gaze, staring up at him through the hazy sheen of tears upon her lashes.

Gooseflesh blooms over her neck and forearms, and when his expression softens, her heart almost seems to seize in her chest. It's almost as if he sees her – the real her – and not the frightened little girl she's been since the very moment she crawled from the smoldering remains of her childhood home. It should make her uncomfortable to be this exposed, but instead… she feels safe, in a way she hasn't in so long.

Drowning in the depths of his ruby irises, Ysera almost forgets to breathe. Time seems to slow as Astarion curls his fingers upwards, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. His breath fans out across her lips, beckoning her closer.

“You’re not a monster,” Astarion repeats. “Believe me, I would know.” 

The emotion in his words are enough to shatter her last line of defense, and Ysera finally gives in, letting Astarion capture her lips in a devastatingly gentle kiss. Her eyes flutter closed and she finally lets go, surrendering herself to him completely.

——————————————

The moment Astarion kisses Ysera, he feels… nothing.

Her lips are soft, and she yields so beautifully to his touch, pliant and malleable as he slides his hands down the soft curves of her hips and hooks them under her thighs. He coaxes her into his waiting arms, satisfied by the way she jumps up to wrap her legs around his waist. Ysera's lips part willingly for him when Astarion runs his tongue against the seam of her mouth, letting him taste her with as much enthusiasm as he can muster.

She must enjoy it because she throws her arms over his shoulders and kisses him back, hungry and breathless as he carries her out of the water and towards the shore. There's a patch of soft clover just beyond the trees that line the lake, and Astarion lays Ysera there amongst the leaves, sun-kissed skin damp and gleaming in the moonlight.

She smiles kindly at him, golden eyes blazing with desire. He lets her card her fingers through his damp curls as he swings a leg over her hips, bracketing her body beneath him. Her touch is exploratory and almost shy, featherlight as she maps the broad planes of his shoulders and chest. When he's let her indulge for long enough, he sets himself back upon her, drinking in the soft little moans that tumble past her open mouth.

It's a strange feeling, to choose to do something his body has no desire for. And yet the decision was his and his alone, one made freely for what must be the first time in more years than he cares to count. It feels good to choose, he tells himself. This feels good.

So as his mind begins to drift and his body settles into familiar routines, the revulsion surging within him suddenly feels substantially less significant.

One more. What is the burden of one more soul against the weight of thousands? Against his freedom?

He may not know the particular rhythm of her body, but he will learn it quickly enough. Desire is a language he knows well, so fluent that it may as well be his native tongue. A quick dance of fingers across her stomach has Ysera arching her back and inhaling sharply; she exhales with a trembling whimper in response to the trail of open-mouthed kisses he leaves across her throat and between her collar bones.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs against her skin, voice rumbling against the junction of her neck. “You are positively breathtaking, darling.”

“So’re you,” she says back, giddy with laughter. “I've never…” she bites her lip, “never seen anyone as handsome as you.” Her words are half slurred through the haze of her desire, but she manages.

Astarion fixes Ysera with a practiced smile, letting her catch a glimpse of his fangs. He knows she's more than fond of them by now, another asset he can use to his advantage. She responds as eagerly as he had intended, wetting her lips with a swipe of her tongue as her eyes swirl like molten honey.

“Do you know what the best part is?” he asks her. Ysera shakes her head softly. Her heart thunders wildly in her chest, breaths becoming shallow as Astarion’s hands glide tantalizingly over her bare skin. He pinches the taut bud of one of her nipples between his fingers and Ysera cries out in pleasure, writhing beneath him.

“The best part is that no one else will ever know. None of them will have the pleasure of seeing you like this. Will they, darling?”

Ysera throws her head back and bunches her hands in the clover as Astarion rolls her nipple between his fingertips, kneading at her other breast with his free hand. “N-no,” she croaks, teeth bared as she arches into his touch, completely at his mercy. “Only you.

“Very good,” he purrs, replacing his fingers with his mouth as he leans down to taste her. Her skin tastes of soap and linen, the scent of her filling his nose. With one nipple between his teeth and the other between his thumb and forefinger, Astarion lavishes her with unrivaled ecstasy, grinning against her as she moans and shudders beneath him.

“Oh… A-Astarion…!”

He recognizes the fear in her voice now, can feel the raw power coursing through her body like a raging torrent. Swept up in its current, Ysera's knuckles are bone white as she balls her fists and uproots the clover in her hands, struggling to keep her magic at bay. Her palms grow hot with flickering flames, turning the soft stems to ash.

Astarion rises and catches Ysera's wrists in his hands, pinning them gently together above her head. When her fire dissipates, his fingers thread tenderly through her own, and she seeks comfort by squeezing his hand. Tears prick the corners of her eyes.

“I'm sorry,” she says, apologetic and unwilling to look him in the eyes. “I'm sorry, I could have –”

Astarion shushes her with a firm shake of his head.

“None of that, darling,” he says, splaying his other palm over her stomach. Just enough contact to remind her what it feels like, but not enough to push her back towards the edge so soon. He waits patiently for her to look at him again, giving her hand a firm squeeze when she finally searches for his face.

“Focus on me,” Astarion commands. “On my voice.” He dips low to press a kiss against her lips. “On my mouth.” He takes the swell of her breast in his palm, cupping her gently.  “On my hands. Can you do that for me, Ysera?”

Ysera nods in assent, blinking away the last of her tears. Her heartbeat slows its wild pace, and a moment of quiet passes between them. She watches Astarion carefully, cheeks growing hot beneath the intensity of his gaze.

She looks as though she has something more to say, but Astarion swiftly breaks her train of thought by sliding his knee between her legs and coaxing them open. Ysera shudders as Astarion bares her slick core to the open air, keeping her hands obediently above her head as he settles himself between her thighs.

“I’d like to taste you, darling,” he proposes, dragging a single icy finger down the inside of her thigh. “May I?”

“Wouldn't it be better if you bit my neck?” Ysera asks innocently. “Or at least my wrist. Surely that would be more satisfying.”

The finger on her thigh halts abruptly. Astarion assesses her, dumbfounded when he realizes she's serious. He clears his throat and gathers his composure.

“I assure you it would be quite satisfying, darling. But I had something… else in mind tonight.” Astarion spreads Ysera's legs wide, the evidence of her arousal more than apparent. His eyes flick from the space at the apex of her thighs to meet her own, a sultry smirk affixed on his lips.

“As much as I enjoy your blood, I've been thinking about how sweet the rest of you must be.”

The sound of Ysera's heart is music to Astarion's ears as she finally understands.

“Oh,” she says shyly, her face still such a fetching shade of scarlet. “Nobody's ever done that to me before.”

Astarion's brows lift in surprise. “Never? Oh, darling,” he drawls, voice tapering into a growl. “I am going to ruin you. ”

Ysera doesn't breathe as Astarion descends between her thighs, propping himself on his elbow as the other hand grips her tightly. Her whole body trembles as his breath ghosts over her slick core, a whimper caught behind her teeth before he's even touched her.

Astarion laughs softly, gazing up at her as she watches him intently. “You're practically soaking for me, aren't you? Let me show you what you've been missing.”

The moment Astarion sweeps his tongue through her slick folds and across Ysera's aching clit, she releases the breath she's been holding in a high-pitched moan, toes curling as she draws one leg up and writhes against him.

“Oh,” she says again, voice stretched thin. “Oh, Astarion, that's good. Don't stop. Gods, don't you dare stop.”

He's barely even touched her and already she's praising him. He knows he's good, but he barely even has to try now before she's been reduced to a babbling, incoherent mess, murmuring his name like a desperate prayer as her hips undulate with every pass of his tongue against her.

When her hands reach for him again, Astarion starts suddenly and pulls away, just beyond her grasp. Ysera's golden eyes flicker with confusion as she stares at him between her legs, the expression on his face clearly troubling her.

“Astarion?” she asks, so sweetly that it makes his stomach turn. “Did I do something wrong?”

The roiling tide of thoughts within his mind subsides, and Astarion clears his head with a shake of his alabaster curls.

“No, darling,” he lies, convincingly enough that she seems to believe him. “I was merely caught up in the moment. Were you enjoying yourself?”

“Uh-huh,” Ysera admits quietly, settling her arms back at her sides. “I want you to keep going… if that's all right with you.”

The softness in her eyes stirs something within him and Astarion immediately looks away, busying himself between her legs again.

They never ask what he wants. They're not supposed to ask what he wants . 

The sound of Ysera's cries make it easier for him to let go, to imagine that she's no different than the rest of his lovers, taking advantage of the skills he's honed across two centuries of practice. Astarion works her with his tongue, circling her clit, pressing flat against her entrance, teasing her ever closer towards the precipice. He considers sliding his fingers inside her slick heat to prepare her for his cock, but after what happened earlier he decides against risking the overstimulation.

His thoughts are elsewhere when Ysera's thighs begin to shake; she's close, the desperate little noises she's making only confirming what Astarion already knows. She comes with a shout, tail thrashing through the clover as a ragged cry tears her throat raw. Her chest heaves with each breath she takes, her entire body trembling as Astarion continues to lick and suckle on her tender bundle of nerves.

“Gods,” she groans, legs straightening as she stretches out. “That was incredible.”

Astarion sits up on his calves, wiping her slick from his lips with the back of his hand.

“A pity that I was your first,” Astarion says smugly. “I've set your standards unreasonably high.”

Ysera huffs and rolls her eyes. “Normally I'd say you were overestimating yourself as usual, but you know what?” she says, head lolling back against the soft earth beneath her exhausted body. “I think you're right.”

She lifts her head when she hears Astarion shifting slightly, palms braced on her knees as he wraps a hand around his cock and gives himself a few quick jerks. It's the first time she's actually gotten a decent look at it, and the sight of the pink tip emerging from the top of his fist with each pump of his hand nearly makes her mouth water.

“Let me fuck you,” Astarion says, the head of his cock catching on the entrance of her dripping cunt as he lines himself up. “Let me remove any lingering doubts you still have about my capability in bed.”

He might not be her first lover, but he will be the best she's ever had. Of that, he is more than certain. After tonight, she'll be wrapped around his finger.

“If I said I didn't have any, would you do it anyway?” she asks, flashing him a coy smile. Astarion slides his hands beneath her knees and lifts Ysera's legs, beginning to slowly sheath himself inside her. 

“Gladly, darling.”

Ysera gasps at the size of him as his cock slowly works her open, pain and pleasure intertwining with every delicious inch he pushes in. Her head falls back and she spreads her legs wide to accommodate him, hips rolling as she adjusts to the intrusion.

The cool sensation of his cock nestled within the inferno of her slick walls is unlike anything she's ever experienced before, threatening to unravel her completely by the time Astarion is fully seated inside of her.

“Fuck,” she breathes, a pleased little laugh bubbling in her throat. “You can move now. Don't make me beg.”

“Careful,” Astarion growls, teasing her with a few quick, shallow thrusts. “You're giving me such wonderful ideas.”

“Even you aren't that cruel,” Ysera quips back, breathless.

“You're right,” Astarion agrees, “I'm not.” Hands braced on the crook of Ysera's knees, he pulls himself almost completely out before slamming back inside of her, pleased by the way she immediately hisses and lets out a low, wanton moan. He fucks into her again, hard and deep, searching for the spot that will make her see stars.

Astarion knows he's found it when Ysera's back bows high and she claws at the ground beside her, desperate for something to hold onto. He angles his hips and hits the spot again and again, punching a string of oaths and whimpers from her parted lips. It doesn't take long before she's ready to come for him again, helpless to do anything but let pleasure overtake her.

“You like it like this, don't you?” Astarion grunts, pistoning into her with rough, brutal thrusts. “Who would have known that our sweet little sorcerer has such dirty little fantasies?”

“Shut up and fuck me,” Ysera groans between gasping breaths, hiding her face behind her hand to conceal her embarrassment. Astarion is more than willing to oblige her, fingers digging little crescent moons into her skin as he drives himself deep inside her.

“Ahh… Astarion, ‘m gonna…” she mumbles before long, and Astarion can feel the way her whole body tenses, a taut string ready to snap.

“Good,” he huffs, releasing one of Ysera's legs to trace lazy circles over her clit. “Come for me, darling, show me how good it feels.”

No sooner has Astarion made his demands than does Ysera come hard on his cock, the walls of her cunt fluttering and pulsing as he fucks her through her orgasm. The way she spasms and whines beneath him brings him swiftly to his own climax, and he empties himself inside her with a groan, sweat clinging to his brow as his hips stutter with the last of his erratic thrusts.

With Ysera utterly spent, Astarion withdraws from her and runs a hand through his hair, sweeping his disheveled curls out of his eyes. He watches her stretch out again with a satisfied sigh, eyes closed and a lazy smile on her face.

“Heh,” she laughs, tail swishing happily through the clover. “Wow. Consider me ruined.”

“I did warn you,” Astarion reminds her, starting to get to his feet. Ysera cracks an eye open and whines in protest, hand waving in the air as she grabs at him.

“Aw, come on. Stay,” she says, rolling over on her side. “What's the rush?” Astarion eyes her cautiously, but her request seems sincere enough, and he settles back down in the grass a few paces away, cross-legged and contemplative. 

“All right,” he says, a little more distantly than intended. “If that's what you want.”

“That's what lovers do, isn't it?” she asks, propping herself up to get a better look at him.

“I suppose they do,” Astarion agrees. “Is that what we are, darling?”

“We don't have to be. Not unless you want to.” The soberness of her voice surprises him, and Astarion feels his gaze softening as he meets her striking golden eyes. There's something disarming about the way she looks at him, her earlier concerns resurfacing.

Concerns not about her own feelings, he realizes, but his . No one has looked at him like that before. Astarion buries the cacophony of thoughts that come unbidden to his mind, uprooting his uncertainty at the source before it poisons him completely. 

No , he reminds himself. He has no time to be soft. He can use this to his advantage. No more, no less. This is the only way he can guarantee his safety. A moment's weakness could spoil everything.

So when he lets his own smile spread across his face, Astarion is nothing but confident when he says to Ysera, “I suppose that's what we are, then.”

I really like this art. And I wanna show you it one more time.

This artwork focuses on the alternate story of Paradise, my Tav from BG3

“First in my heart”

(Tiefling Tav belongs to @k4m1kaze)

Its their birthday gift