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mooshywrites · 17 days

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Steady Love

Wyll x Tav OC (Nemeia)

Summary: After returning from Avernus, Wyll and Nemeia throw a party in their new home. But Wyll wants to spend time with his wife while the party is still in full swing.

Tags: smut, fluff, teasing, voyeur kink (?), voice kink, dirty talk, PIV

Word count: 2410

A/N: I want to thank @razrogue for planting the seed to write this fic and @mooshywrites for setting the stage in a headcanon they made. As well as @foreverxdauntless for always being wonderful and beta reading my trash fics 😂🥰

MDNI

The party was in full swing and Wyll had just finished regaling Astarion and Minsc about his adventures in Avernus with Karlach. He was pretty proud of how they finally found the forge Zariel tried to hide away to keep Karlach from coming back to Faerûn. Though it had only been eight months since their last party after defeating the Netherbrain another was needed after he, Karlach and Nemeia came back from Avernus for good. Being with friends in his and Nemeia’s home just outside the Gate made this reunion even better. Everyone was happy to be with one another again and even Lae’zel, though still an Astral projection, couldn’t hide her happiness being amongst friends again.

Wyll may have also been a bit tipsy, telling the story which earned him a small shake of the head Nemeia gave as she walked away and left him and Karlach to it. Though she did still give a smile and a peck to his cheek which in turn caused him to flush a tad.

Wanting to find his love his eyes roved across their home and he finally spotted her. She was on the upstairs overlook smiling happily as she observed everyone and their merriment. Nemeia was wearing a simple dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. The soft lighting inside emphasized on the contours of her face and the purple highlights of her hair, she looked devastatingly beautiful to Wyll. It made his heart clench in that good way that always happened when he was around her.

But there was an ache developing, just a bit south. He was glad there was no one around to see his want for his wife, because otherwise he’d have an embarrassing situation he would have to explain to his friends.

He walked upstairs and swaggered over to her and she turned, beaming at him. The way her smile lights up her whole face makes him weak in the knees and his heart race faster. This celebration was exactly what she needed after all the stresses of Avernus and the both of them helping the people of the Coast. And with his father calling on him to help with city affairs there hasn’t been an abundance time for them to spend with one another. Though to his father’s credit he doesn’t call on him often but makes sure to get him home at an appropriate time to see Nemeia.

“Hello, beloved,” she said. “You and Karlach having fun telling our stories in Avernus?”

“Of course.” He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, and she leaned back against him with a happy sigh and her tail twisting around his thigh. “We three made a great team and accomplished much while there, it needed to be shared.”

“That’s good to hear, beloved. You’ll have to forgive my current state. From cooking dinner for us all and running to the baker for his tiny cakes I had to change into a simpler dress. I’m most likely going to have to bathe after everyone leaves for the night.”

“Mhm . . .” he hummed, and she shivered. Wyll knew how much she loved his voice when he was so close and especially during the throes of passion. He hummed again and nibbled her ear right after. Nemeia pressed herself back against him, pausing for a moment when she felt him harden in his trousers.

“What salacious thoughts are going through your head, beloved?”

“You, in the bath, bare and wet for me.” He spoke softly directly into the cup of her ear, and goosebumps broke out all over her body. Her nipples were just visible beneath her dress, and he ached to touch them and take them in his mouth as he’d done time and time before, however there were too many potential observers downstairs. But Wyll notices while they all may be drinking, they are oblivious to the way Nemeia was grinding herself against his hardened length and making him groan. He kept his lips next to her ear, and his breaths and groans traveled down her spine like a bolt of lightning and her knees nearly buckled.

Gods, how did he do that, she wondered. Nemeia was so aroused now just from his voice that she was ready to drag him into their bedroom and let him do whatever he wanted to her, but Wyll had other plans. He guided her hands to the railing and pinned them there. His body felt so warm and solid at her back.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, love?” he murmured, his lips grazing her neck. “You smell so sweet tonight.”

“I’m sure you’re just being kind, love.” she replied jokingly, but her voice was breathy with barely contained lust. He nipped at her throat and she let out an almost audible gasp.

“You’re so soft and warm and lovely. And you make the sweetest moans for me.” He strokes her arms, sliding up to her shoulders and back down to her wrists. He then licks a slow line up her neck and swirls his tongue around her ear. Nemeia closed her eyes and bit her lip reveling in the attention being heaped on her. Her skin felt feverish and she was trembling slightly, and Wyll wanted to see how far he could take this dance without rousing the suspicions any of their friends.

“Wyll, please, let’s go to our bedroom” she pleaded. His hands slide around her and he pushes his hips against her ass. He was fully erect now, and that thick hardness of his ridged length pressed against her and sent shivering waves of need everywhere he touched.

“Not quite yet, love. I want to try something that’s been on my mind for a while.” His fingertips trailed down her sides to her hips, and she had to muffle a moan. “Would you let me try it, love?

Nemeia nods her head in desperation.

“Thank you, love. Now say my name.”

“Wyll, please.”

“I love the way my name sounds on your lips. No one could ever say it like you do.” He slid his hand up her body, grazing slowly over her breast, making her gasp. He knew how much she had to be controlling her face so as not to give herself away and he almost feels bad for putting her through this with everyone downstairs celebrating. But he needed to see this through, he was so aroused seeing his wife trying to keep composure even though they both know she’s lost in pleasure. “What are you feeling, love? Are you getting wet for me?”

“Y-Yes.” She turns her face into his neck to conceal the soft moan that escapes her lips.

“Can you feel how much I want you?”

“Yes.”

He puts a hand over her stomach, feeling the ridges on her body and making his way farther down, placing his hand just below her navel; he could just barely feel the muscles there fluttering in anticipation. He knew how that felt when he was inside her, the way she’d squeeze him and hold him when he did something right.

“Turn around and put your arms around me. Mhm, just like that, love.” His hands wander up and down her back, stroking her hair and neck, caressing her arms, and she feels heat and electricity crackling along her skin making her feel alive. She rubs her cheek against his chest and pleads, “Please, keep talking.”

“Close your eyes and think back to this morning. Can you remember?” She nodded, and her arms tightened around his neck, her body also tightening in arousal. “I woke up before you and I couldn’t help but caress every single inch of you. You looked so sweet and innocent in your sleep. I kissed down your body and you woke up to me between your legs and with them over my shoulders.”

Nemeia takes in a shuddering breath and starts to kiss his neck, her hips tight against his length just beneath in trousers. “Yes, gods, keep going.”

“I love the sounds you make when I tease you, so I took my time, made you beg me to taste you. And I did, you sang so beautifully to me.” Wyll was almost painfully stiff under his trousers. He ached to be inside her, but he is too invested in this to stop now.

“You’re always so responsive and sensitive when you’re drunk on pleasure, and you wanted me so terribly. Gods, do you remember what you said? You had your hands on my horns and said you wanted me to fuck you with my tongue, such a naughty thing for my sweet wife to say. Fuck, you don’t know what that does to me.”

Wyll takes her hand and drags it down his body and on his desire, pushing her palm against him, and her knees almost give out. She’s thankful that she’d been leaning against the railing otherwise she would have collapsed. The way she was breathing, Wyll knew she was close to her peak. “Do you feel me, love? Just thinking about tasting the sweetness of you makes me so stiff, Nemeia.”

“Please, Wyll, please. I need you,” she moaned, bucking her hips to drive the point home. He gives a moan of his own in response.

“How attached are you to this dress, love?” She gives him a curious, then a bewildered look.

“Wait, right here?” She was a little worried, but her breath was shallow and she looked like she didn’t need much convincing from him.

“Yes, my love, right here. Hold very, very still for me.” He rips a small hole through the crotch of her dress with a letter opener that was thankfully on a table beside them.

Luckily they didn’t light many candles on the top floor so the balcony was dimmed in a bit of shadow. “Don’t tell me the thought doesn’t excite you, love. Now, spread your legs a bit wider for me, but not too much. We don’t want the others to notice.” Nemeia turned around to see if anyone was looking, but no one seemed to be paying any attention. “I’ll keep my eye on them, love, don’t worry.” He unlaced his trousers with one hand and, with one more glance below, took his throbbing and ridged length out and slid it between her thighs.

The friction of the dresses fabric gave way to warm, pliable flesh as Wyll pushed through the opening he’d made in her dress. He was delighted in knowing his sweet wife had forgone wearing underwear tonight. He leaned down to kiss her and when she allowed his tongue into her mouth, he entered her, bottoming out in one thrust. She let out a strangled moan and he cupped the back of her head, hand tangled in her locs. He fastens his mouth over hers to swallow the sounds of pleasure she was making. She felt so amazing, so tight, warm and ready for him, that he almost finished right then. He takes a few deep steadying breaths to control himself not wanting this to end too soon.

“Look there, love,” he whispered. “Look at our friends. They’re none the wiser about what we’re doing, how I’m so deep within you right now.” Nemeia gasps, and her breath fans across his face. Her warm channel flutters and clenches around him in need. “Mmm, dammit, squeeze me again. Mhm, just like that. You always feel so good, love. You were made just for me.” Heat coils up in his belly and it rolls throughout his body. He grips the railing and leaves bites and kisses to her neck to hide the look of unadulterated pleasure on his face. Being with each other this long Wyll secretly suspected Nemeia knew just how to bring him over the edge, how to use her body to make him addicted to her just as she is addicted to him.

Not being able to move was beginning to be torturous, the restraint needed too much, and he began to rock his hips as much as he dared. The slow and shallow thrusts were just what she needed, though. Nemeia was already extremely sensitive and swollen with desire, and every thrust and grind he made had him rubbing against her clit. She clenched around him every time he pulled out, as if she didn’t want him parted from her for even a second and was bringing him deeper into her. Giving her a long, languid kiss he buried his face in her shoulder again feeling he was close to the precipice. Nemeia could almost feel her friends down below and imagined all of their gazes on her. Witnessing her being used by her husband and that thought was enough to send her over the edge losing her rhythm undulating her hips as she came and clamped down on his member.

He felt her peak and she had to bite down on his shoulder to stifle the desperate whines and moans that wanted to spill from her lips. The overwhelming pleasure was too much for him as his head was filled with nothing but Nemeia and how her walls clamp and flutter around him as he gives a handful of rough and sloppy thrusts before flying over the edge and flooding her with his hot, sticky seed, gasping as he emptied into her.

After catching his breath Wyll pulls himself from her cum filled channel but still holds her as to not break the magic of their afterglow. After a few minutes they put themselves back together as well as they can and Nemeia wraps her arms around him and kisses him lazily. Wyll grazes his tongue onto the seam of her lips and explores her mouth when she opens up to him, gripping her back with both hands. They finally part and look at each other lovingly with small giggles passing between them at their antics.

“Go and get changed, love. We’ll mingle for a bit more but everyone is leaving within the hour. I’m not done with you yet tonight.” Nemeia nods her head and begins to walk away to their bedroom but not without a playful slap to her ass Wyll gives before she’s out of reach. Going back downstairs Wyll begins chatting with Gale about his students as no one suspects the intimate display that happened just above their heads.

#being any part of the inspiration process #for a Fic this incredible is like #the biggest compliment #this is so good ;-; <3

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mooshywrites · 23 days

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Falling asleep on their laps

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Masterlist

Art commissions

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Astarion ~

As the silky fabric draped over your body, Astarion couldn't help but marvel at the peaceful expression on your face. The gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed in the night air, the soft hush of your breath against his thigh - it was quite the calming scene.

The fire crackled nearby, casting dancing shadows that played across your features like fleeting whispers of a dream. Astarion's fingers twitched with the urge to reach for his needle and thread, to continue his meticulous work on a new garment he was creating. Yet, he dared not move a muscle, fearing that the slightest disturbance might rouse you from your nap.

He sighed in frustration, feeling like a prisoner under your touch. How was it that he, what he would consider to be quite the dangerous person, be so afraid of rousing you from your sleep?

Astarion glanced down at you, marveling once more at how serene your expression was. It was almost unfair how effortlessly you had him wrapped around your finger.

With a resigned huff, he turned his attention back to the crackling fire. The flames seemed to mock with their freedom, flickering and leaping without a care in the world. Astarion couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy - oh, to be as unrestrained as fire. But as he glanced back at you, he remembered why he endured this minor inconvenience with a begrudging fondness.

“Truly,” he muttered under his breath, “the sacrifices I make for love.”

Halsin ~

You didn’t even realize you were drifting off to sleep on Halsin’s lap until your vision had completely darkened, your dreams carrying you away. Halsin gazed down at you with a mixture of concern and amusement, unsure of how to maneuver without waking you from your blissful nap. Slowly and carefully, he attempted to lift you up from his lap, his muscles tense with the effort of trying not to disturb your sleep.

With a sudden jolt, you let out a soft snore, making Halsin freeze in his tracks, his eyes widening in surprise. He held his breath, hoping beyond hope that you wouldn’t awaken from his blunder. As he continued to gently shift your weight in his arms, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation.

After what felt like an eternity of careful maneuvering, Halsin finally managed to bring you to a softer patch of moss nearby. With a triumphant grin, he gingerly laid you down on the cushiony surface, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear with tenderness.

Halsin watched as your eyebrows furrowed, your sleepy expression seemingly tense. Suddenly, your hand shot out from under the blanket, reaching for him in your sleep. Your fingers brushed against his shirt sleeve and clung to it, pulling Halsin towards you with a force that surprised him. His eyes widened as he was pulled forward, watching as you sighed in contentment now that he was closer.

“Not to worry, little duck,” he chuckled, pulling you into his arms, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Gale ~

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you settled against Gale’s chest, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing along with his voice against you pulling you into a peaceful slumber.

Gale, with the worn, dog-eared book in his hands, looked down at you. His eyes softened at the sight of your resting so happily against him, your head nestled comfortably in the crook of his arm. He let his fingertips gently trace the contours of your face, from your closed eyes and their fluttering lashes to your slightly parted lips.

Gale’s brow creased as he saw you shiver softly, your arms shifting against him further to steal some of his warmth. His heart twinged seeing you in such a state; he wanted to fetch you a blanket himself, but feared even the lightest movement would disturb your sleep. After a moment of thinking, a vague idea formed in his mind. He extended a hand, the air trembling ever so slightly as magic sparked alive at his fingertips.

An incantation whispered under his breath brought forth his mage hand, spectral and blue. He guided it carefully, directing it towards the plush blanket resting on the other side of the room. It moved soundlessly through the air, returning to Gale’s side with its precious cargo. With one more soft command, the mage hand spread the blanket over you delicately.

Gale shifted slightly, smiling as you relaxed under the new warmth. His attention returned to the book, finding his place on the page.

“Anyways, my darling,” he murmured happily, “where were we.”

Wyll ~

The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting a warm orange glow upon the dimly lit study. Wyll, deep in concentration, pored over the building plans and scrolls strewn across his desk, his brow furrowed as he consulted one plan after another. Beside him, you yawned sleepily, your eyelids drooping as you rested against him. You tried valiantly to remain awake, curious about the plans that would shape your future home, but the lullaby of the fire and the late hour were proving too much to resist.

Wyll glanced up from his notes and landed on your sleeping form, smiling softly.

“I suppose these can wait until morning,” he whispered, gently gathering up the papers. Strong arms scooped you up from the chair effortlessly, carrying you across the room as if you weighed no more than a feather.

He settled you carefully into the large four-poster bed that dominated one corner of the room. The velvety soft blankets enveloped you in a cocoon of warmth as Wyll slid in beside you. His arms encircled you, pulling ou close against his broad chest. You nestled into him, breathing in the comforting scent of pine and leather.

“A nap is a wonderful plan, my love,” he teased, pressing a kiss against your forehead quietly, “I should’ve thought of it myself.”

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mooshywrites · 24 days

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Sensitivity

Where to touch to drive them wild

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Masterlist

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Astarion -

~ Ears ~

You began to pepper Astarion’s face with gentle kisses, you couldn’t help but notice the way his breath hitched and his body tensed beneath your touch. Feeling mischievous, you trailed your lips down to his earlobe, planting a soft kiss there before lingering to gently nibble on the sensitive skin. Astarion let out an involuntary groan, his hand reaching to grasp your waist as he tried to stifle his reaction.

“Sensitive ears, huh?” you teased, feeling a surge of affection for the pale elf beneath you. His facade of nonchalance cracked ever so slightly as he leaned into your touch, a faint blush dusting his pale cheeks. Astarion let out a low chuckle, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement in his voice.

“Not a clue what you mean, pet,” he stuttered, his cheeks flushed ever so slightly.

You smiled before leaning back down repeat your actions. As you continued to kiss his ear, you couldn’t help but notice a shift in Astarion’s demeanor. His grip on your waist tightened, his body arching towards your touch with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. The playful banter was slowly replaced with burning heat. Astarion’s breath became heavier, his wandering hands more needy.

“Perhaps you may have a point.”

Halsin -

~ Thighs ~

You tried your best to ignore your boredom, sitting silently through the Druid’s Grove weekly meeting. Halsin side to your right, nodding to whatever Rath was saying. You sighed dramatically, laying your hand on your Druid’s thigh.

Halsin shifted slightly as your fingers brushed against his thigh, a fleeting look of surprise flashing in his eyes before he quickly composed himself. His gaze met yours, a hint of heat dancing in the depths of his emerald green eyes. You could feel the tension between you two, a subtle electricity crackling in the air as the other druids carried on with their conversation, unaware of the silent exchange happening between you and Halsin.

You leaned in, your breath whispering across his ear. “Don’t tell me the First Druid is that sensitive,” you teased, squeezing his thigh again.

Halsin's breath hitched at your touch, and he swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure. His lips parted as if he were about to respond, but no words came out. His cheeks flushed a deep shade of red that spread down his neck, betraying the calm facade he usually wore.

Clearing his throat, Halsin shifted away slightly, pretending to readjust his position in the meeting circle. But you could sense the tension rolling off him in waves, his every movement betraying the desire that simmered just beneath the surface. He gave you a half-hearted glare, his voice low.

“If you don’t behave, Oak Father preserve me, I’m not going to make it through this meeting.”

Gale -

~ Neck ~

You set down a fresh pot of tea on Gale’s work desk, planting a casual kiss against his jaw as he studied the book in front of him. You felt him shiver slightly under your touch, turning to you. Before you could pull back, he surprised you by grabbing your waist and pulling you closer, his lips eagerly seeking yours in a heated kiss.

His lips were warm and insistent against yours, sending a thrill down your spine as he deepened the kiss. The tea on the desk was forgotten as your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands. His kiss was demanding yet tender, a mixture of passion and restraint that left you breathless. When you finally pulled away, Gale’s face was painted with a wide smile.

“What on earth was that?” you giggled, landing a peck on his nose.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he grinned.

“Your kiss on my neck seemed to have flipped a switch.”

Wyll -

~ V lines ~

Wyll’s shirt rode up slightly as he reached out to grab a fallen branch, the fabric teasingly exposing a sliver of taut skin. Your gaze was drawn to the hard lines of his waist, a subtle indentation that seemed to beckon your touch. Without thinking, your fingers traced the curve of his V line, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. As your fingertip lingered there, you noticed a slight shiver run through wyll’s body, his breath catching ever so slightly.

In that moment, you realized the effect your touch was having on him.

“Everything alright?” you asked innocently, dragging your fingertips further down.

“Love,” Wyll warned, his hand catching yours.

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you met Wyll’s gaze, the tension in the air palpable.

“And if I don’t?” you challenged.

Wyll’s grasp pulled you closer, his eyes heated as your chest pressed flush against his.

“Then I’ll return the favor of your little tease.”

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mooshywrites · 27 days

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Stargazing with Faelar (bloodied stars fanart)

(Its still very much initial sketch/planning phase but do u see the vision)(I am very excited)

Also I know the fic is astarion x reader but from what little I've seen I can already tell that Faelar is a cutie and I want to know more

MY HEART IS MELTING?!?!

#I never thought people would like my fics #enough to draw for them #I love it so much #the potential is endless youre so talented #<3 <3 <3

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mooshywrites · 1 month

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Can we make fanart of ur fics :0

Of course?!?!? Tag me in it so I can seeeeee!!!!!

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mooshywrites · 1 month

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Bloodied Stars - Part 5 - Crimson Warning

Fem!Reader x Ascended Astarion

Masterlist

Art commissions

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Comment here to be tagged in chapter updates

Word count - 5.8K

Warnings - NSFW, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) (Series contains - Angst, “enemies” to lovers, pregnancy, disagreements, slow character growth, smut, typical asshole ascended astarion behavior, cliffhangers, death, murder - This takes place after the events in BG3, the ‘reader’ (you) is not Tav. Just a Baldur’s Gate resident)

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“Can you truly look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t love me?”

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Chapter List

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Returning to your own chamber, you sank onto the edge of the bed, your mind swirling with thoughts of him.

Were you falling in love with him?

The question echoed in your mind, bouncing off the walls of doubt and fear that surrounded your heart.

You traced patterns on the coverlet with trembling fingers, lost in a maze of uncertainty and hopes. Astarion was a puzzle you couldn’t solve, a riddle wrapped in enigma and shrouded in darkness. And yet, there was a hint of something in his eyes, a longing that drew you into his embrace time and time again.

The night stretched on before you like an endless tapestry, woven with threads of longing and desire. Torn between wanting him close and fearing that the whole affectionate thing was an act, you wrestled with your own emotions in the quiet solitude of your room.

You were drawn back to the washroom, craving the view of the outside world. The moon cast a silvery glow through the glass, painting everything in shades of grey and blue. As you sat, staring at the stars, you wondered if there was even a place for anything more than duty and necessity in Astarion’s life.

If there was room for you.

Sleep finally claimed you, pulling you into a dark embrace on the cold tile floor. Even while deep in slumber, you couldn’t help but feel that you didn’t mean anything to the pale elf at all.

When you awoke to the sunlight filtering in, washing over you like a warm blanket, you immediately regretted falling asleep on the hard ground. Your mood was sour as you trudged back into the bedroom, your eyes catching on a plain paper resting on the small bedside table.

You picked it up curiously, flipping it over to see the writing. Tied to the edge was a small hairpin. The silver piece was adorned with delicate ivory carvings of intertwining vines, their leaves and flowers forming intricate patterns that seemed to shimmer as they caught the light.

It was absolutely magnificent.

As you examined the hairpin more closely, you found that the tip had been sharpened to a fine point, one that would easily draw blood with the slightest wrong movement. You felt your chest flutter, your eyes flitting back at the note attached to the gift.

All of your doubts melted away as you read the crimson cursive writing, the words giving away more than your pale elf could ever say.

“For my fangless vampire so that she’ll never grow hungry.

Yours always,

Astarion.”

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The next few days seemed to pass in a blur. Astarion would visit in the evenings, accompanying your dinner with a bit of his blood. You tried not to think too much about the pale elf’s gift, though you were slightly mesmerized by the hairpin’s beauty and sentiment. It became your constant companion, tucked into your hair during the day.

The time not with Astarion was spent in only two ways; exploring the building to find Evelyn or sitting in the washroom to stare outside of the window. You didn’t feel as trapped as you did before, but every once in a while, you craved the feeling of the sunlight on your skin.

Oh how you wished there was something interesting for you to sew.

Before you knew it, the days had turned into weeks and you had grown into a comfortable pattern. Astarion had slowly but surely began spending more and more time with you when night fell. Sometimes, it was small talk about the day, but more often, it ended with Astarion’s hands ever so gently holding you. Before you could interrogate him about his feelings, he’d find a way to slip out, leaving you to stew on your own emotions. It seemed that this evening would be no different.

“Curse these cravings,” you grumbled, curling up into your four poster bed.

Astarion usually came to see you by this time of the day, but today he was annoyingly late. You could be patient, but the little hellion you were carrying apparently could not.

As if called by your thoughts, the door creaked open quietly.

“Ready to see me?” Astarion called through the open doorway.

It was hard not to notice how much more polite he’d grown the longer you stayed here. His demeanor had done nothing to help your constantly conflicted feelings, but you supposed it was better than him being a complete and total arse.

“More than ready,” you replied with a small smile, unable to hide your relief at his presence.

He approached you, moving with a quiet grace as he perched himself on the edge of the bed. His fingers brushed across yours lightly, sending a jolt of warmth through you that had nothing to do with the fire crackling in the hearth.

“I do have to apologize for my lateness, I suppose,” Astarion sighed. “Had a couple urgent matters.”

“Urgent matters?” you prodded nervously.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with. Evelyn said that any amount of stress can affect the pregnancy,” he assured, still not meeting your eyes.

“Are you sure?” you continued, leaning forward to try to catch his wandering gaze. “Is it something that affects me and the baby?”

“Absolutely not.” Astarion answered firmly, finally looking at you. There was a strange intensity in his gaze, a feeling of something you couldn’t quite place. You held his gaze for a moment, trying to decipher the emotions swirling in those mesmerizing crimson eyes.

“Then I won’t worry about it,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. But as Astarion’s hand covered yours, a shiver ran down your spine.

He leaned towards you, his lips dangerously close to yours. “I shouldn’t have kept you waiting,” he whispered, his breath cool against your skin.

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. You melted into him, letting yourself be pulled into his aura yet again.

As he pulled away slightly, you were left breathless and dizzy, your heart pounding in your chest. Astarion’s eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your insides flutter. You avoided his gaze, trying to push the fog out of your mind.

You couldn’t do this again.

Astarion had fallen into a habit of these kinds of things. Tender kisses to your hands before he left, loving gazes when you spoke about your day, heated lips meeting yours whenever he thought the time right. It always left your head spinning afterwards, but when it finally cleared, you couldn’t help but question his sincerity.

“I can’t resist you any longer,” he murmured. “I need you.”

“Well,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, leaning out of his arms. “As much as I would like to play house, I’m afraid our little Dhampire will eat me from the inside out if I don’t give into the cravings.”

Astarion’s facade of confidence wavered slightly as you pulled away. He quickly masked it with a playful smile, brushing off any concerns. With a deft motion, he reached up and plucked the hairpin from your hair, twirling it between his fingers before pricking his palm without hesitation.

“In that case, I shan’t make you wait any longer,” he quipped.

The crimson bead of blood welled up, shimmering in the dim firelight of the room. Astarion’s gaze never left yours as he offered his hand to you, something he had done every night. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, however, there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a fleeting glimpse of the inner turmoil he so expertly concealed.

“I never get used to this,” you complained, leaning forward to drink from the pinprick.

The metallic tang of blood filled your senses, intermingling with the heady aroma of Astarion’s cologne. As you drew back, savoring the warmth that spread through you, you caught his gaze firmly fixed on your parted lips.

“You do have a way of making even the mundane seem enchanting,” he mused.

“A very pretty lie,” you shot back, throwing him a small smile.

“Why do you always assume my affection is a lie?” he asked, feigning offense.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Call it a gut feeling. Or perhaps it’s just because I know that you can’t love someone you don’t know anything about,” you shrugged.

“Oh, darling,” he purred. “Who said anything about love? I’m purely speaking of affection and desire.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself.”

“So if I were to ask you, say,” Astarion pondered for a moment. “Your favorite fruit. Then would you believe what I say?”

“Absolutely not,” you snorted. “Trust is formed on more than favorite foods. Which would be peaches, by the way.”

“For gods’ sake,” he sighed dramatically, leaning back on the plush bed. “What will it take to make you trust me.”

You giggled, leaning over him, propping yourself up on your palms. You gazed at him for a moment, taking in every crease and line on his face.

“You can start by telling the truth,” you whispered, meeting his gaze.

“Anything,” he murmured back softly.

You thought for a moment, wondering what exactly you should ask him. You finally settled on asking something mundane, something that could lighten the air around the two of you. But when you opened your mouth, completely different words spilled out.

“Can you truly look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me?”

Astarion’s eyes widened slightly and your breath stilled.

Not at all what you had planned.

“And if I do love you?” he responded quietly. “What would that even mean?”

The vulnerable look in his eye made your heart clench. It was as if he wasn’t really asking you the question, he was trying to find it in himself.

You leaned in closer, your lips hovering just a breath away from his.

“We’ll figure that part out later.”

With a surge of courage, or perhaps even need for avoidance, you closed the distance between your lips and his. Your kiss was gentle at first, hesitant. You could feel the pressure from his touch as he wrapped his arms around your waist. The sensation sent a shiver through you, causing as soft sigh to escape your lips as you leaned further into him.

Astarion’s response was immediate and fervent, his lips molding against yours with a hunger that matched the intensity of your own. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer to him, his touch igniting the fire that had been smoldering for so long. There was a desperation in his embrace, a deep need to hold you close.

When you finally broke apart for air, breathless and dizzy from the kiss, Astarion sat up with you still straddling his lap. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching you.

“I think-“ he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

“For gods sake, stop talking for once,” you chided, leaning in for another kiss.

It was much easier to fall into desire than it was to have an open conversation about your feelings. What if he were to say the things you never wanted to hear? What if he confirmed what you knew deep down?

You were just a means to an end.

You ground your hips down, almost in an effort to short circuit your swirling insecurities. Astarion groaned into the kiss, his hands grasping at your hips tighter. His touch was both possessive and desperate, almost as if he feared you would slip through his embrace at any moment.

As your hands tangled in his hair, his lips left a blazing trail down your neck, igniting a fire just below your stomach. A low growl rumbled in his chest, sending vibrations through you that only stoked the flames higher. His teeth grazed your jaw line, shivers breaking out across your skin. You sighed airily, shifting your hips across Astarion’s growing erection.

His hands moved with a newfound urgency, hungrily undressing you as he continued to kiss down your chest. The feeling of his lips, teeth, and tongue brushing against your skin sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, leaving you breathless and weak n his grasp. You moaned softly, arching your back to bring yourself closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest.

Astarion’s fingers trailed across the delicate skin of your stomach, tracing the curve of your hips before sliding beneath the hem of your dress. The fabric caught on his skin, but the hunger in his eyes had never left as he tugged the dress up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments. He ran his hands down your arms, tracing the contours of your shoulders and the delicate lines of your collarbone.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your shoulder as his hands continued to explore you. His breath was cool against your skin and you shivered beneath his touch. He reached around you, undoing the clasp of your corset with practiced ease, revealing the delicate lace of your chemise underneath.

The fabric hung limply, only vaguely hiding the swell of your breast. He traced the edge of the lace with his fingers before running them down your chest, teasingly slow with his motions.

Astarion’s hand found the ties of your chemise, and with a swift tug, it fell away from your body, leaving you sitting atop him in nothing but the dim light of the room. He inhaled sharply, taking in the sight of your naked body, the ever so slight swell of your stomach. You could feel his eyes on you, drinking in everything about you.

Oh how you hated when he looked at you this way, as if you were really being loved.

His hands moved once more, this time gently cupping your breast, his thumbs brushing across your nipples as he dragged them down your chest. A low grumble of approval rumbled in his chest as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your skin. His teeth grazed across your pebbled nipples in a slow, deliberate motion, making your legs weak with the idea of him biting the sensitive skin. You cried out softly, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure coursing through you.

The light from the flickering fireplace cast an intricate dance of shadows across his face as he leaned further down your body, his lips leaving a trail of fire wherever they roamed. His tongue flicked out to taste the salty beads of sweat on your skin, your chest shivering under his exploration.

With one hand, he massaged your breast gently, a feather-light touch that had you aching for more friction. The other hand traced delicate circles down your sides, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His fingers dipped into the curve of your hips, dragging lightly against the silky skin before continuing on to the base of your spine. Each touch was an offering, a promise of the pleasures to come.

Your breath hitched as his lips closed over your erect nipple, sucking it gently. The sensation was exquisite, a delicate blend of pain and pleasure that had you arching beneath him. The room seemed to grow dimmer, as if all the light was being drawn towards the two of you, your bodies moving in the shadows like a dark and sinful dance.

He pulled away slowly, leaving your nipple moist and swollen. Your eyes locked with his, searching for the depths of his soul in the darkness. There was something wild and untamed in his gaze, a hunger that mirrored your own.

With a low growl, Astarion’s arms tightened around you, pulling you down further onto him. You could feel him through his tunic, the rigid length of him against your stomach as he flipped you onto your back, leaving you sprawled across the bed. Now it was your turn to drink him in, to feast your eyes on the strong lines of his body, the chiseled features of his face. He smiled wickedly, glowing with a newfound radiance.

“Mine,” he whispered, his voice low and thick with desire.

As you gazed into his eyes, you could see a storm brewing, a deep-seated passion that threatened to consume both of you whole. Your heart pounded in your chest, and a flush rose on your skin.

Slowly, Astarion began to move. Slowly, oh so slowly, Astarion raised himself up, his eyes never leaving yours. He undid the laces of his tunic, each tiny movement a deliberate, seductive dance. His muscles glistened with sweat, and you could see the sinewy strength of them rippling beneath his skin.

As he pulled the tunic off over his head, you were treated to quite the show. His broad shoulders, his lean chest tapered into a defined waist, his skin creamy white. Every curve and contour was perfect.

Then he was kneeling again, looking down at you with a look of hunger in his eyes. Your heart threatened to burst from your chest and you could feel the dew beginning to gather between your legs. Your breathing became shallow and rapid, and you could barely control yourself.

His hands began to explore your body yet again, tracing the lines of your curves, the softness of your skin. He kissed your stomach, his movements increasing in intensity until his lips met your navel. With a whimper, you arched your back, inviting him to continue.

His tongue danced over your skin, tracing the curves of your hips, the indentations of your waist. You felt as if you were melting into the bed and the sensation of his touch was enough to make you cry out in pleasure.

He looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You’re so easy to come undone, my pet,” he teased.

You blushed, your eyes locked on his, feeling suddenly vulnerable and exposed.

“And you, Astarion, are such a tease,” you retorted, trying to regain some of your dignity.

He chuckled, landing a chaste kiss on your hip. “But you’re the one asking for it, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you muttered, your voice catching in your throat, “but you owe me for the hell you put me through.”

His eyes darkened, the hunger in them burning even hotter. “Is that so?” he asked, his tone challenging.

You nodded, your resolve strengthening. “Yes,” you whispered, locking your gaze with his. “You do.”

“You want me to make up for all of that…” he paused, nipping at your hip affectionately. “hell?”

“You’ll never be able to make up for all of the torment you’ve put me through,” you scoffed, trying to keep up the pretense. “But I’ll give you one chance anyways.”

“One chance it is, pet.” Astarion’s eyes sparkled at the challenge, his lips brushing dangerously close to the inside of your thigh. “Only if I can take my time, that is.”

He positioned himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to slowly spread you open with his fingers. The coolness of the air on your heated flesh contrasted with the coolness of his touch, sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath hitched as his fingers delved deeper, gently probing the tight folds of your core. The scent of your arousal filled the air, a heady mixture of musk and sweetness that seemed to intoxicate him by the way he inhaled deeply.

His thumbs brushed against your clit, the light touch sending waves of pleasure radiating outward, causing you to shift your hips in response. Astarion watched, a predatory smile spreading across his face as he took in your reactions.

“Please,” you whined, unabashedly grinding your hips against his fingers.

With a smirk, he lowered his head, his tongue darting out to taste the sweetness of your core. You moaned softly, your hips bucking against his tongue as he began to work his magic.

His fingers continued to tease and torment, stroking and probing, while his tongue delved deeper, caressing your most sensitive spots. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and desperation that left you utterly breathless.

“Please,” you begged, your voice strained. “Please, don’t stop.”

Astarion chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your sensitive cunt.

“I’m not going to stop, pet. I’m just getting started.”

True to his words, he continued his wicked dance, driving you higher and higher towards the edge. You clawed at the cover beneath you, your nails digging into the fabric.

Your entire body felt alive, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. You arched against him again, desperate and needy. He met your gaze, his lips still latched to your core, his eyes burning with desire.

He shifted his fingers, thrusting into you suddenly. With a final curl of his middle finger, he hit your sweet spot, causing a burst of pleasure to shoot through you like lightning. Your entire body convulsed, your breath caught in your throat. You cried out in ecstasy, the sound mingling with Astarion’s low growl as he continued to pleasure you.

His tongue didn’t stop, and neither did his fingers. The sensation was completely overwhelming, and you felt as if you were floating, soaring through the heavens. your body shook uncontrollably, every muscle tense and strained. It felt like you were on the brink of something incredible.

And then the wall finally broke. A tidal wave of pleasure crashed over you, overwhelming your senses, your mind, your entire being. You screamed his name, your body trembling violently, the intensity of the orgasm leaving you breathless and weak.

Astarion continued his movements, carrying you through your high. You lay there, panting, the fragility of your body and mind all too exposed.

Finally, Astarion pulled away, his pupils blown wide. He looked up at you, a smirk on his lips.

“Are you satisfied, my pet?” he asked, his voice all too confident in an answer you hadn’t even given yet.

“I suppose so,” you quipped, your voice still hoarse from your intense release.

Astarion only chuckled, crawling up to lay beside you, his arms pulling you into a soft embrace. You let your eyes flutter shut, comfortably resting in the pale elf’s arms. The more your breathing evened out, your heartbeat becoming softer, you couldn’t help but flit back to the conversation you’d been having before Astarion’s tongue interrupted.

“What would it mean?” you wondered aloud.

Astarion shifted, turning his gaze to you. His hand came up to brush the hair from your face softly, his touch gentle.

“What would ‘what’ mean, pet?” he prodded.

You bit your tongue for a moment before pressing a small kiss to his jaw. He groaned slightly, his hips shifting forward.

Bold of him to act as if you were the desperate one with the way he ground his length against your hips.

You smiled as you continued your trail of kissing, pulling back only when you had landed a kiss in the crook of his neck.

“What would it mean,” you started again, avoiding his gaze. “If you did love me?”

The room was silent for a moment, filled with recognizable tension that hung thick in the air. Astarion looked into your eyes, his own holding a mess of emotions. His struggle was evident as his face flickered between confusion, concern, and longing.

“What would it mean?” he repeated, his voice soft. You felt a pang of sadness, as if the words you spoke had somehow managed to break the affection that had been so delicately woven between you.

You couldn’t see that expression any more, see the conflicted look in his eyes any longer, so you turned away. Instead, you stared at the intricately carved wooden panels of the bed’s headboard.

“Forget I asked,” you stammered. “My logic hasn’t quite come back yet,” you tried to laugh, the sound empty and foreign.

The soft sound of his ragged breath escaped his lips, and you could feel him shift uncomfortably beside you. You knew then he was grappling with his own feelings, ones you weren’t sure would end in your favor.

“What are you doing?” you murmured, feeling him shift further.

Ignoring your question, he gently disentangled himself from your grasp. His eyes avoided yours as he stood up and began to put his clothes back on. The air was heavy with his silence, your muscles growing tense.

You wanted to reach out and grasp his hand, to pull him back into your embrace and offer whatever reassurance you could, but the distance between you felt insurmountable. The weight of his silence settled in your chest, leaving you with a hollow feeling of unease.

He stood there, fully dressed now, his face a mask of conflict and determination. You watched, feeling as if you were peering in on someone else’s thoughts, a world you didn’t belong in.

Slowly, he met your gaze once more, his eyes glazing over with resolve. “It would mean nothing,” he answered, his voice sure.

You looked on numbly as he turned and left the room, your heart dropping to your feet. As the door clicked shut behind him, you felt a profound sense of sadness and confusion.

You thought you had been making progress with him. Slowly growing closer in the little moments you had shared.

So much for that.

“Where did we go wrong?” you muttered to yourself, your voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could dissolve into a puddle of self pity, you heard a gentle knock on your door. You wiped away an errant tear, took a deep, shuddering breath.

“One moment,” you called out.

You expected it to be Evelyn, she often visited to check up with you. Part of you wondered whether she was just worried that you spent too much time alone. Even so, you’d never turn away the company.

You shuffled into a nightgown, throwing the day’s clothes in a pile on the opposite side of the room. You walked to the door, opening it gently. It wasn’t Evelyn behind the door, however. It was the spawn who had carried you into this room when you had first been locked away.

“I’m sorry if this is a bad time,” he offered awkwardly.

“You’re the one who put me in here the first time,” you responded dryly.

“Ah yes,” he chuckled nervously. “Faelar is my name. And I am sorry about that mess. I couldn’t have said ‘no’, even if I had wanted to.”

You sized up the spawn, taking in his appearance. He resembled Astarion in the way all of the spawn did, with his pale skin and white hair. But Faelar seemed softer, less threatening in every way. He was probably a foot taller than your pale elf and yet still came across as unassuming.

“And did you want to?” you questioned. “Want to say ‘no’, that is?”

Faelar flinched slightly, then paused as if to find his words. You studied him more in the silence, wondering to yourself what he had looked like before he had turned into a spawn. His eyes were a bit lighter, even edging on pink instead of crimson. His hair was long and sleek, braided back out of his face.

“I did want to say no,” he responded quietly. “I’ve been wanting to come and apologize, but after seeing the Master storm out the way he did…” Faelar grimaced slightly. “I thought I’d check on you.”

“So he really is that upset,” you whispered, turning away from the spawn. You didn’t want him to see how much Astarion’s actions affected you. No matter how trivial it was.

You sat back on the bed, allowing the exhaustion to slouch your shoulders.

Faelar let out a small awkward sigh, seeming to not know how to respond. You inwardly cringed at how pathetic you must seem to him in this moment.

“Perhaps I can lift your mood,” he suggested, moving closer to you.

“What could you possibly do?” you asked, suspicion tinging your tone.

“I could show you the stars. The roof has quite the view,” he offered.

“I don’t think Astarion would allow that.”

“Then I suppose it will have to be our secret,” Faelar challenged.

Your eyes shot up to his, catching a sly smile on his lips. You couldn’t help but giggle, thankful for the sliver of levity in this whole mess. You thought for a moment, weighing the outcome of sneaking away, even if for a bit.

“Lead the way,” you said finally, blowing out a shaky breath. You stood up slowly, your legs feeling like jelly beneath you. Faelar offered you his arm and you took it gratefully.

As you walked, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. The darkness of the night enveloped you both, casting shadowy shapes around you. Faelar led you to the highest point of the tower, where the opening ceiling broke into a sweeping view of the sky.

As you gazed up into the inky blackness, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder. You never took the time to appreciate the beauty of the world. Between work and being thrown into Astarion’s complicated mess of a world, there was never time.

But here, the stars shone brightly, twinkling like tiny pieces of a vast endless puzzle. Faelar pointed out the constellations, explaining the different stories behind each one. You listened intently, happy to talk about the simpler things in life.

You marveled at the intricate patterns of the stars, each one a story waiting to be told. Your eyes widened with Faelar’s words, taking in the many tales of star-crossed lovers and mythical creatures.

You devolved into a fit of laughter at the one about the clumsy bear who knocked over a pot of stew, and the wise old owl who showed him the way to cook a perfect meal. How that related to a grouping of stars, you couldn’t tell. Faelar’s cheeks flushed slightly at your amusement, he couldn’t seem to help smiling back at you.

“So tell me more about Astarion,” you said, finally bringing up the topic that had been lurking in the background. “You know him well, don’t you?”

Faelar nodded solemnly, giving you a sad smile. “Indeed, I do. He can be quite the mystery sometimes, but life has not been kind to him.”

Faelar hesitated for a moment, as if choosing his words very carefully. He lowered his gaze, his eyes lost in the hazy darkness of the night sky. “You know, he was abandoned by someone he deeply loved,” he murmured.

You shifted slightly, trying to take in his words.

“He hasn’t spoken about it since it happened,” Faelar continued, his voice tinged with sympathy, “But it’s clear by the way he is with you that he isn’t past it.”

“Oh,” you responded, not able to find any other words.

You stayed quiet for the moment, digesting the information as you stared up at the stars. You wondered what Astarion had been through, what kind of person had left him behind. Did he see their face every time he looked at you?

“That must have been difficult,” you wondered aloud.

“Yes,” Faelar sighed. “But he isn’t the first to lose something important to him. Nor is he the last.”

You looked towards Faelar, sensing something deeper in his words. His expression was a stone mask, his gaze focused on something far away.

“Like you?” you asked softly.

Faelar hesitated for a moment, then the corner of his mouth turned upward in a small, sad smile. “Yes,” he said finally. “Like me.”

Sensing his discomfort, you tried to change the subject. “Is that why he’s always so guarded? I mean he says one thing but then his actions say another,” you questioned.

“Perhaps,” Faelar replied, his voice soft and distant. “But that’s not to say he’s incapable of love. He simply needs time to heal, to find the strength to be vulnerable again.”

“I suppose you’re right,” you nodded. “Even if it does complicate things even further.”

Faelar nodded, giving another sigh. As you continued to sit in silence, the vast expanse of the night sky stretched out above you, you felt a little less alone.

You glanced over at Faelar once more, and though he still looked as if he were a million miles away, you could see the emotion in his eyes. You reached out and took his hand, trying your best to give him a comforting smile.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice growing thick with emotion. “Thank you for bringing me up here.”

Faelar gave you a grateful grin, squeezing your hand gently. “You aren’t alone here you know. We may be only spawn, but any of us are here if you need company. Well, maybe any of us but Amastacia,” he chuckled.

You giggled in agreement, feeling a small warmth bloom in your chest.

The wind began to pick up, its whisper rustling wisps of your hair around you. You felt your eyes begin to grow tired, your body falling into sleepiness now that you weren’t as stressed as before.

Faelar’s gaze met yours with a knowing look and he gave your hand a small squeeze.

“We should head back,” he suggested, standing up and brushing himself off.

You stood up as well, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. You gave one last look towards the stars, thankful for this moment of peace.

You followed Faelar back down the steps, making your way back to your room. Neither of you spoke, but the silence wasn’t oppressive. It didn’t take long before you were back before your door, the spawn stopping before he opened it.

“You know,” he started, slightly nervous. “If you’re still feeling a bit isolated, you’re welcome to have dinner with the other spawns and I. We meet every night.”

“Oh I don’t want to intrude,” you smiled shyly. You weren’t quite ready to admit how desperate you were for more company.

“It wouldn’t be an intrusion at all. I’ll come get you tomorrow?” Faelar smiled.

“Tomorrow then,” you relented, smiling gratefully.

With that, he opened the door and paused for a moment. Just as quick, he seemed to shake off the feeling, opening the door wider. You walked in the room, turning and giving him one last smile. He nodded curtly before turning and leaving your room. You watched him go for a moment, then quietly closed the door.

As you made your way to the bed, sleep tugging you ever closer, your eyes snagged on an envelope atop your bedside table.

You rolled your eyes. Did Astarion really think that every situation could be fixed with a sappy note and a hairpin?

But as you flipped open the envelope and pulled out the paper within, your blood ran cold.

In bright red letters, scrawled angrily and in a haste was an obvious threat.

‘Even carrying his heir won’t protect you from your inevitable death.’

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

To be continued - Saturday, April 6th - 8 p.m. CST

Comment here to be tagged in chapter updates

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mooshywrites · 1 month

Text

Bloodied Stars - Part 4 - Velvet Hairpins and Plush Pillows

Fem!Reader x Ascended Astarion

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Comment here to be tagged in chapter updates

Word count - 6.3K

Warnings - (Series contains - Angst, “enemies” to lovers, pregnancy, disagreements, slow character growth, smut, typical asshole ascended astarion behavior, cliffhangers, murder, death - This takes place after the events in BG3, the ‘reader’ (you) is not Tav. Just a Baldur’s Gate resident )

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“Yours always.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Chapter List

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“What’s his name?” you asked, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could even register them as thoughts.

“Astarion,” the pale man whispered, his voice more tense than before. He slipped past the door and shut it before you could ask anything else, leaving you in the dark dusty room.

You fell back against the bed, too tired to cry any more than you had. You stared at the gold and red stitching on the duvet below you, trying your best to ignore the shade’s dead match to the Vampire’s eyes.

Astarion, you thought, rolling the name around in your head.

Sleep pulled you close faster than you could realize, the chaos of the day already fading. Images of Astarion danced in your mind, his sharp features softening the same way they did when you caught his mask slipping. The way his eyes held a stormy complexity that both intrigued and terrified you.

Before your eyes fluttered shut for the day, your naive heart couldn’t help but remember his all too pretty lie.

“We could be a family.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

The next morning, you awoke to a soft rustling sound in the room. Slowly opening your eyes, you blinked in surprise to see a small figure hovering at the foot of your bed. It was a pale wiry woman, her features much softer than the spawns you’d seen thus far. Thin wrinkles creased her eyes and her smile lines, making you wonder how someone who looked so happy could be in a place like this. She hummed softly, her melody winding through the air beautifully.

“Good morning, Miss,” she chortled, giving you a warm smile. You couldn’t help but smile back, her comforting aura shining brightly through the dusty room.

In her hands, the spawn held a tray filled with an assortment of breakfast items. There were delicate pastries dusted with powdered sugar, fresh fruits arranged in an artistic display. There even sat a cup of fragrant tea in the corner, steam rising in tendrils. The spread looked like something out of a lavish banquet, not a meal found in the home of a vampire.

“Where did you get all of this?” you questioned shyly, your voice still thick with sleep.

“Well I made it,” the woman replied with a grin, setting the tray down next to you.

“You cooked all of this?” you asked incredulously.

The woman chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement at your disbelief. “Yes, indeed, I did,” she confirmed, her voice carrying a gentle lilt. “Cooking is one of the few joys I still hold onto from my human days. Though the skill goes to waste most of the time in this house.”

“It really is lovely,” you whispered, sitting up and giving the tray another once over.

The spawn accepted the compliment graciously, her smile growing wider as she gave you a slight nod. Warmth bloomed in your chest, your heart clinging to someone so kind in a place so compassionless. The spawn before you seemed so different than the others, almost sounding maternal as she explained the different dishes.

As you both made small talk, you couldn’t help but be more and more drawn to her infectious energy and kind demeanor. The way she spoke about cooking with a mix of nostalgia intrigued you, making you want to know more about her past.

To know that despite vampiric nature, someone could still have some humanity.

After a while, you finally gathered the courage to ask for her name. She paused for a moment, as if contemplating whether to share that part of herself with you. Then, with a soft smile, she whispered, “Evelyn. My name is Evelyn.”

The name rolled off her tongue like a melody, fitting her perfectly. You repeated it back to her, savoring the chance to connect with someone though you were trapped here.

With a graceful gesture, the woman handed you the cup of tea, the rich aroma enveloping you like a warm embrace. It smelled of deep herbs and spices, faintly sweet after a while. You took a small sip, worried you’d look like a starved animal if you ate at the speed your growling stomach demanded.

The woman let out another melodic laugh, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Go on, Miss,” she urged, her small hand gesturing towards the feast before you. “Don’t be shy. I’ll still be here to keep you company while you eat to your heart’s content.”

You tentatively picked up a delicate looking pastry, its flaky crust glistening in the warm candlelight. As you took a bite, the taste exploded in your mouth. A perfect blend of buttery sweetness that made you all but forget about the ache in your stomach. But as you swallowed, a sharp pang shot through you, and you immediately felt queasy.

Evelyn noticed the sudden change in your souring expression and reached out to your arm, concern etching lines on her forehead.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asked softly, the genuine worry evident in her voice. You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but the discomfort gnawing at your insides made it difficult.

“I- I think I just need a moment,” you managed to say, setting down the half-eaten pastry with a trembling hand. The woman’s eyes softened with understanding, and she reached out to pat your hand gently.

“It’s alright, my dear. Don’t force yourself to eat it,” she assured, exuding care. “Perhaps it’s too rich for your current condition.”

You felt a surge of guilt at her words, knowing how much effort she must have poured into preparing the breakfast before you. How you had hoped with all your heart that someone in this house would be kind, yet here you were, too weak to accept the gesture. The woman seemed to sense your inner turmoil and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Do not fret, Miss. I understand pregnancy can bring about peculiar cravings and aversions. Especially with a dhampire child,” she said with a comforting smile. “Let me bring you something lighter that will nourish both you and the little one.”

“Dhampire?” You squeezed her hand back, hoping she wouldn’t leave just yet. As painful as it was to admit, you felt so much safer, so much more cared for with the woman here.

“Dhampire,” she repeated with a nod. “A child conceived of a vampire and non-vampire. I can’t tell you much more than that, the Master should explain all of that to you.”

“I don’t want to see him,” you said quickly, trying to keep the panic out of your tone. The hurt of the day before was still raw in your chest, you weren’t sure if you could face the man without devolving into a storm of tears.

Whether that was the hormones or the being kidnapped part, you couldn’t tell.

“Oh, miss,” the woman sighed, giving you a pitying stare. She seemed to deliberate for a moment, her expression softening as she gazed at you with a mix of sympathy and understanding. With a gentle touch, Evelyn reached out to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face, her touch cool and comforting.

“I can see that the Master’s actions have left a mark on you,” she murmured softly, her voice carrying an underlying current of familiarity. “I won’t tell you what the right thing to do is. But you can’t avoid him forever.”

“I know,” you whispered, feeling a sense of resignation settling in your chest. Despite your dread at the thought of facing him, you knew Evelyn was right. You couldn’t close yourself off from him, especially not in his own home.

“I’ll put together something lighter for you to eat, my dear. Someone will bring it to your room shortly.” Evelyn cooed, her thumb rubbing circles on your hand.

“Can’t I go with you?”

Evelyn’s eyes softened with a mixture of sadness and longing, seeming to want the chance of more time with you. There was a moment of hesitation before she spoke, her voice gentle yet firm.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, dear. The Master has given strict orders that you are to remain in your room until he decides otherwise,” she explained, her delicate features betraying a hint of worry.

You felt a surge of frustration suddenly, your condition hurtling you into a new emotion. If you were going to be imprisoned here, the least the arrogant “Master” could do is let you into a hallway.

As Evelyn rose from her seat, her movements graceful and purposeful, she leaned in closer to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Be patient, my dear. If anyone can get through to him, it’s you,” she whispered. “He’s already been out of sorts since the first night you were behind these walls.”

With that, she glided out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the remnants of the uneaten pastry.

You watched Evelyn disappear through the partially opened door, the soft click signaling your solitude once more. Her words lingered in the air, your feelings growing conflicted. The dusty room suddenly felt oppressive, the weight of your confinement bearing down on your shoulders.

With a determined sigh, you rose from your bed and set about tidying up the neglected room. The dust motes danced in the magical light, making you wonder how you made it all of this time without being reduced to a puddle of sneezes. The soft glowing light from the room made you wonder, realization dawning on you that this room was much brighter than the hallway you were carried through.

With vampire’s having near perfect night vision, did this mean that someone had purposefully lightened the room for you?

You shook off the idea. The last logical thing would be to think that your kidnapper cared about you at all.

You rummaged through the bookcase, stumbling across an old rag. With meticulous care, you began to scrub away the inch thick layer of dust, each swipe revealing more of the delicate wood beneath it.

As you cleaned, a sense of purpose began to ease your anxieties. The rhythmic swish of the rag against the wooden surface was strangely soothing, almost hypnotic. Each stroke revealed the intricate carvings on the bookcase, depicting scenes of knights in battle and dragons breathing fire. The craftsmanship was remarkable, each detail painstakingly etched into the wood with precision.

Lost in the beauty of the carvings, you almost failed to notice the faint creaking sound coming from the corner of the room. It wasn’t until you heard a soft click that snapped you out of your trance. Glancing over, you saw a previously unnoticed door slightly ajar, sunlight streaming in from the other side.

Curiosity piqued, you cautiously made your way towards the door, your footsteps silent on the dusty floor. Pushing it open further, you were greeted by a washroom that seemed to belong in a palace rather than a forgotten room.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked towards the stained glass windows. Why on earth would there be a source of sunlight in the home of a Vampire? Even if being ascended meant you could walk in the sun, you knew for a fact that the spawns couldn’t.

Who was this room meant for?

You stepped further inside, gazing around the room. The walls were adorned with shimmering mosaics that glinted in the light of the colored glass, casting a rainbow of reflections across the marble floor. The air was scented with the sweet fragrance of dried lavender and jasmine, the tiles beneath your feet cool and smooth.

A large claw foot bathtub sat in the center of the room, its gleaming surface inviting you to sink into its depths and wash away the grime of captivity. Dusty towels were stacked neatly on a golden rack, perfectly placed next to the row of dishes filled with bars of soap.

Overwhelmed by the sudden luxury surrounding you and the mystery of its existence, you felt yourself growing tense. You quickly stepped back, shutting the door to the washroom gently behind you.

As you turned around, you were startled by your bedroom door swinging open. Your eyes tried to adjust to the dimmer light of the room, focusing in on the figure. Your eyes widened at the sight of Amastacia standing there with a tray in her hands.

Amastacia’s presence sent a surge of anger coursing through you, memories of her betrayal flooding your mind. You could feel the heat rising within you, the urge to confront her clawing at your insides like a beast hungry for vengeance. But you held yourself back, your jaw clenched tight as you glared at her from across the room.

Amastacia’s eyes met yours, a flicker of annoyance passing through them before she composed herself into an icy mask of indifference. With a nonchalant grace, she sauntered towards you, the tray in her hand rattling slightly with the plate of bread upon it.

“Breakfast?” Amastacia offered, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

You recoiled at the sound of her voice, the memories of her honeyed lies still fresh in your mind.

“I don’t want anything from you,” you spat out, your tone laced with barely contained fury.

A smirk tugged at the corners of Amastacia’s lips, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, darling, no need to be so hostile. After all, you need all the food you can get since you’re eating for two,” she said, settling the tray down with a clank.

You eyed the bread warily, knowing better than to trust anything that came from her hands. You could hear the thinly veiled aggression in her words, the challenge she was presenting.

“Surely, you don’t expect me to eat something when the last meal we had you drugged,” you gritted.

“Surely you don’t expect me to care,” she bit back, all fake pleasantries disintegrated. “I’m not going out of my way to make you eat, even if you are Master’s latest pet.”

Your blood boiled at the mention of being called Astarion’s “pet”, the audacity of Amastacia’s words cutting deeper than any blade.

Speaking of blades, the moment you came in possession of something sharp, you were driving it through this harlot’s chest.

Beneath the anger you felt lay a flicker of something else, a strange sense of possessiveness that tugged at your heart. As much as you despised Astarion at the moment, part of you longed to be more important to him than just some means to an heir.

With a forced calmness, you pushed aside the bread, refusing to let her see how much her words truly stung.

“I am not anyone’s pet,” you said through your teeth, your fist clenched at your sides.

Amastacia’s laughter rang through the room, sharp and mocking.

“Oh, sweetling, you are far too naive if you think he thinks otherwise. You’re nothing more than a momentary nuisance,” she taunted, her eyes gleaming with malice.

A surge of defiance surged through you, igniting a fire within. You stood taller, meeting her gaze head on with a hardened glare.

“Maybe he doesn’t, but you’re no better. Nothing but another one of Astarion’s slaves,” you retorted, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.

The air crackled with tension, the unspoken challenge hanging heavy between the two of you. As Amastacia’s smile faltered ever so slightly, you knew you found the chink in her armor.

Astarion.

Amastacia’s broken smile quickly transformed into a sneer, her eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint. The mention of Astarion’s name had hit a nerve, and you could sense the shift in her demeanor as she struggled to regain control of the situation.

But you refused to back down, emboldened by the realization that you held power over her at this moment.

“You think you know him so well, don’t you?” Amastacia’s voice was laced with venom as she took a step closer, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “But you have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the intensity in her gaze, but you stood your ground, unwavering in your defiance.

“I may not know everything about him, but I know enough to see through your facade,” you shot back, your tone challenging.

Amastacia crumbled before your eyes, revealing a glimpse of the seething rage and possessiveness that lay beneath. Her chest heaved with each ragged breath, her eyes blazing with a fierce intensity that sent fear through your veins.

“You know nothing,” she hissed, her voice barely more than a whisper but filled with a deadly promise.

In that moment, the room seemed to shrink around the two of you, the air heavy with tension thick enough to suffocate. You could feel the weight of her fury pressing down on you, starkly contrasting the affectionate gaze she started this whole series of unfortunate events with.

“Maybe not,” you conceded, trying to swallow back the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “but I know unrequited love when I see it.”

Amastacia’s eyes widened at your words, a mixture of shock and fury crossing her features. The room seemed to vibrate with her suppressed emotions, the air crackling with the intensity of her anger. In a sudden movement, she lunged towards you, her hands clawing at the air as if trying to grasp hold of something intangible. You barely had time to react before she was upon you, her nails digging into your skin as she snarled incoherently.

Pain flared through your body, sharp and biting as Amastacia was overcome with a primal rage that seemed to consume her from within. It was as if a beast had been unleashed, all semblance of control slipping away in the heat of the moment.

You fought back as best you could, adrenaline fueling your movements as you tried to push her away. But her strength was surprising, her grip unyielding as she continued to claw and snarl, her face contorted with a savagery that chilled you to the core.

Just when it seemed like Amastacia’s onslaught would never end, the door burst open with a resounding crash. Astarion stood in the threshold, his crimson eyes blazing with a fierce intensity that matched the flames of Amastacia’s fury. His presence was like a tempest, commanding attention and respect as he surveyed the chaotic scene before him.

Without a word, Astarion moved swiftly towards you, his movements fluid and graceful like a predator closing in on its prey. In one swift motion, he ripped Amastacia off of you, his strength overpowering hers effortlessly. She snarled and hissed, struggling against his hold, but he held her firmly in place with an iron grip.

“Enough,” Astarion barked, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. The force of his command seemed to quell the storm of emotions swirling around you, bringing a moment of calm amidst the chaos.

Amastacia glared at Astarion for a split second of undisguised hatred, her chest heaving with anger. Astarion’s glare deepened, leaving no room for argument.

“Leave,” he spit, his tone deadly.

For a moment, it seemed as though Amastacia would defy him, her aggression sparking like embers in her eyes. Yet then, with a venomous glare in your direction, she wrenched herself free from Astarion’s grasp and stormed out of the room, her rage echoing in the emptiness left behind.

As the door swung shut behind her, a heavy silence descended upon the room, broken only by the sound of your ragged breaths and the distant echoes of Amastacia’s footsteps fading into the night. Astarion turned to face you, his expression growing more exasperated than angry.

“What did you do to make her so upset?” Astarion sighed, his frustration palpable as he looked upon the aftermath of your scuffle. His gaze fell upon you, accusatory and questioning at the same time.

In response to Astarion’s question, you felt a surge of indignation rise within you. He quite literally had to pick her up like a rabid animal and he’s assuming you were the one in the wrong?

“I did absolutely nothing,” you seethed. “Maybe you should be more careful with who you ‘employ’ from now on.”

Astarion regarded you with a mixture of surprise and skepticism, his eyes probing yours for any sign of deceit. After a moment of tense silence, he let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his silvery hair, seemingly lost in thought.

“I admit, I may have underestimated her propensity towards violence,” he relented.

“Underestimated?” you laughed dryly, holding out the deep claw marks on your arms. “She would have killed me! Might I remind you that if I die, your precious heir dies too?”

Astarion’s expression darkened at the reminder of the stakes involved, his features hardening with resolve. With a curt nod, he took your arm in his hand, looking over the scratches. You winced at the stinging pain, but his touch was surprisingly gentle. His cold fingers traced the lines of blood, his expression becoming softer with each passing moment.

As he observed, you found yourself drawn to his presence once again, the way his fingers soothed the pain sending goosebumps across your skin. You tried to ignore the way your heartbeat began to flutter, the undeniable pull you felt towards the pale elf ramping up again.

Astarion’s gaze lifted from your arms to meet yours, his expression unreadable.

“Forgive me,” Astarion murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Moving faster than you could realize, he brought your arms to his lips, licking a long stripe along the fresh cut. His eyes never left yours, the sensation of his tongue grazing your skin sent heat through your chest. A mixture of fear and an unsettling thrill coursed through you as you looked on.

As he finished cleaning the wounds, you could feel the tension between you heating in the air. Astarion’s gaze held a hunger that you weren’t quite ready to unpack, afraid of what his gentle touches meant. With a sudden intensity, he leaned closer, his breath mingling with yours.

“You should never have been put in danger. I won’t allow such things again,” he whispered.

His promise hung in the air, low and sure. You were caught in a trance, unable to tear your gaze away from his hypnotic eyes. In that moment, you knew your life had become completely intertwined with the vampire, bound by an unspoken connection that defied logic.

“Now come,” Astarion said simply, straightening and dropping your arm. Gone was the intensity of his gaze, your mind reeling to catch up with his mood changes.

Did the pregnancy hormones seep into the air and affect him as well?

“We need to go see our in-house healer. Evelyn informs me that you haven’t been able to eat.“

You followed Astarion out of the room numbly, still trying to catch up from the intimate moment you had just shared. The tension lingered between you, a potent mix of fear, desire, and uncertainty swirling in the air. As you walked through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his lips against your skin, the memory burning hot in your mind.

When you reached what must have been the healer’s chambers, Evelyn was already there. Your smile grew wide at the sight of her, the stress of the day already seeming to melt away.

“You must know how to do everything, Evelyn,” you laughed, looking around at her healer’s office.

The space seemed to be a sanctuary within the cold stone walls of the mansion. Soft, flickering candles cast a warm glow, illuminating shelves lined with jars of herbs and vials of potions. The air was thick with the earthy scent of dried thyme, instantly calming your racing heart.

Evelyn cast a weary glance at Astarion before looking at you. Her eyes immediately flitted to the deep scratches on your arm, her breath gasping sharply.

“Oh, sweetling, whatever happened?” she cried, rushing over to look over your injury. She glared at Astarion, no fear in her eyes. “Did you do this to her? I swear to every god I can name, if you did,” she threatened.

Your jaw dropped in surprise, completely shocked with how brazenly the older spawn was speaking to the pale elf.

Astarion only chuckled softly at Evelyn’s stinging words, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

“Now, now, dear Evelyn, there’s no need for such hostility. I assure you, I had nothing to do with her little mishap. Ask her yourself.” He waved his hand dismissively, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Nothing, hm? You should take better care of her,” the woman narrowed her eyes skeptically at him before turning her attention back to you. With gentle hands, she began tending to your wound, applying a salve that soothed the pain instantly.

“Might I remind the Master, she is growing your child,” she continued, chiding Astarion as if he were a babe.

You watched the exchange between Evelyn and Astarion with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. It was clear that despite his confident mask, Astarion held a healthy respect for the old spawn in front of you. As Evelyn continued to scold him, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude that there was someone in this building who seemed brave enough to talk to Astarion like he wasn’t a god.

The pale elf leaned casually against a nearby table, his eyes never leaving you with an odd sense of concern. The tension that had filled your life earlier had seemed to dissipate, replaced now with comfortable small talk.

“You wound me with your accusations,” Astarion teased, a playful glint in his eye. “I would never harm our little one… or its vessel,” he added with a grin.

You couldn’t help but smile back, despite the obvious disrespect in his tease. It was so interesting to see the man act this way. It was as if he had been replaced by an entirely different person, a doppelgänger that wasn’t so needlessly dark and depraved.

Perhaps Evelyn just had this effect on everyone.

Evelyn rolled her eyes at Astarion’s dramatics but couldn’t hide the spark of affection in her gaze. She turned back to you, finishing up the treatment on your arm with practiced ease.

“You’ll be as right as rain in no time, my dear,” she reassured you, patting your hand gently. “But do take it easy. For your sake and the baby’s.”

“Of course,” you nodded gratefully.

“Speaking of,” the woman directed her attention at Astarion, “I believe I know why she is having trouble keeping food down.”

“Oh?” Astarion prodded, his face growing serious. Based on his reaction, you wondered if it was something they had talked about before. You felt your chest flutter at the thought of the two of them being concerned about something so mundane.

“I believe that when an Ascended Vampire conceives a baby, the pregnant person has to consume vampire blood for the baby to grow,” Evelyn began, her voice lacking a sense of humor. She paced between the two of you, throwing her hands up as she spoke.

“It’s an exceedingly rare occurrence, mind you,” she continued, her brow furrowed in concentration. “But I was able to find it documented in a few books I’ve studied. The blood of an Ascended carries with it a unique quality that is essential for sustaining life. For parent and child.”

A hush fell over the room as her words lingered in the air like rotting meat. You couldn’t help but feel your stomach upturn at the gravity of her revelation.

“I have to drink his blood?“ you asked quietly, feeling positively ill.

Astarion threw you a glance, seeming all too aware of your discomfort in the situation. “For the baby,” he whispered, his gaze unwavering. You could see the concern in his eyes, his feelings seeming genuine for once.

Evelyn nodded solemnly, her expression grave. “I understand this is probably too much to ask of you,” she said, her tone gentle. “But it is the only way to ensure the child’s survival. And your own.”

As she made her way towards the door, Evelyn paused, turning back to look at you both. “I have to go about my rounds now,” she said, her voice tinged with pity. “I will leave the two of you to discuss this further.”

Alone in the dimly lit room, the reality of the situation sank in. The thought of consuming blood, fresh blood, turned your stomach. The image of it swirling your mind like a dark, viscous liquid.

“I’m sorry,” Astarion offered quietly, taking a few steps towards you. “I realize that the last few days have probably been a lot for you to handle. Even without adding this on top of it all.”

Astarion reached out a hand, his fingers hovering just inches from your arm as if unsure of whether or not it would be welcomed. His words held a weight to them, a sincerity that caught you off guard. You couldn’t help but feel a flicker of warmth in the cool room, the shadows dancing around you both.

“Drinking blood… It’s not something I ever imagined myself doing,” you admitted softly. The very idea seemed monstrous, unnatural. Yet, there was an undeniable pull in Astarion’s eyes, a depth of understanding that made you question your own reservations.

“I think I would be more worried if you had,” the pale elf chuckled.

He let out a soft sigh, his gaze meeting yours with a matching uncertainty. “I never imagined I would be in this position either,’ he confessed. “But it must be done. I won’t risk your-… I won’t risk the baby.”

“I don’t even have fangs,” you replied numbly, ignoring the pause in his sentence.

Astarion broke out in a grin, unable to stifle a laugh. “It’s a slight impediment, I suppose,” he teased, the tension in the room easing just a bit. “I am more than willing to lend you mine.”

He held his hand to his mouth, biting into the skin softly. You couldn't help a nervous giggle, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. You felt a strange mix of revulsion and gratitude as you watched Astarion pierce his hand.

He must have sensed your mixed emotions, his eyes soft as he raised his bleeding hand towards you. You hesitated for a moment, the fear of actually drinking his blood still coursing through your veins. You looked up into his eyes, trying to borrow some of his ever present confidence.

You took a deep breath and slowly reached out to touch the trickle of blood that had formed on his skin. His fingers trembled slightly, exposing his own apprehension in the situation. He gently wrapped his other hand around yours to steady it, his touch sending a warm surge of reassurance.

You would have to unpack his newest affectionate demeanor when you weren’t face to face with his blood.

As you hesitantly brought your lips to his hand, Astarion’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, you could see a flash of desire. The moment felt vulnerable, the vampire offering a part of himself to you.

You closed your eyes, willing yourself to trust him, just this once, taking a small sip of the blood from his hand.

The flavor zinged across your tongue like electricity, completely different from the metallic and putrid taste you expected. Instead, it was smooth and rich, like the finest wine you had ever tasted. It flowers through your veins, alighting your nerves and filling you with a sense of power and strength. It was exhilarating and vaguely reminded you of how it felt to have the pale elf’s aphrodisiac bite.

Astarion watched you intently, his lips parted ever so slightly and his eyes filled with satisfaction. You pulled away, savoring the taste on your lips and the warmth that spread through your veins. You couldn’t help but look into Astarion’s eyes, seeing the matching spark reflected in them.

For a moment, you forgot how dangerous the man in front of you was, or how volatile the situation you found yourself in. All you could focus on was the growing intensity in the air around you, Astarion’s eyes flitting to your lips.

You exhaled a shaky breath, a small tentative smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Thank you,” you murmured softly.

Astarion nodded, his eyes still locked with yours. His hand held yours close, leaning in ever so slightly. You could see the flecks of gold amongst the ruby sea of his irises yet again, your breath catching in your throat.

Astarion’s gaze heated for a moment as he shifted forward, his breath mingling with yours. The tension between you pulsed like a living thing, wrapping around you in a heady embrace. His touch was feather light on your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he brushed his lips against yours.

The kiss was hungry, bordering on desperation. You realized you felt exactly the same, your feelings raw and exposed once your resolve had been peeled back.

You wanted him. Wanted him so badly.

Craved him like it was the air that you breathed. It may be irrational, perhaps even foolish. But you had been chasing the high you felt your first night with him despite the wall firmly placed between you.

But just as quickly as the passion ignited between you, Astarion pulled away abruptly, the fire in his eyes dimming to a cool mask of indifference. His jaw clenched, betraying the turmoil within him as he turned away, his back now to you.

You watched him in silence, feeling the weight of his absence hanging heavy in the air. It was as if there was a chasm between the two of you, wider and deeper than any physical distance could ever measure. Astarion stood motionless, his shoulders tense with an invisible burden that seemed to crush him from within.

The vulnerability you glimpsed in him just moments earlier now made your heart ache with a longing you couldn’t quite name. You reached out tentatively, your fingers hovering over his arm before hesitating. Would he push you away or pull you closer?

You pulled your arm back silently.

“Feel free to roam outside of your room from now on. Just don’t leave the grounds. I’ll find you in the evenings to feed.” Astarion broke the silence, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Right, thank you,” you replied, uneasily matching his demeanor.

As Astarion left the room, you were left standing there, the echo of his presence still lingering like a ghost in the empty space between you. His departure felt like the closing of a door, separating you from a world where anything seemed possible.

Returning to your own chamber, you sank onto the edge of the bed, your mind swirling with thoughts of him.

Were you falling in love with him?

The question echoed in your mind, bouncing off the walls of doubt and fear that surrounded your heart.

If there was a place for you.

Sleep finally claimed you, pulling you into a dark embrace on the cold tile floor. Even while deep in slumber, you couldn’t help but feel that you didn’t mean anything to the pale elf at all.

It was absolutely magnificent.

All of your doubts melted away as you read the crimson cursive writing, the words giving away more than your pale elf could ever say.

“For my fangless vampire so that she’ll never again grow hungry.

Yours always,

Astarion.”

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mooshywrites · 1 month

Text

Their secret turn-ons

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NSFW

Masterlist

Art Commissions

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Astarion -

~ Praise ~

You run your fingers through Astarion’s silvery white hair, savoring the softness of each curl as your lips met in a passionate kiss. His hand traced patterns along your skin, sending shivers of desire down your spine.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur, pulling back for a moment.

Astarion’s eyes, a mesmerizing shade of crimson in the firelight, gleamed with amusement as he met your gaze. The flickering flames dancing through the room illuminated his flawless features, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw and the subtle curve of his lips.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, darling,” he chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver of anticipation through you. “I must admit, I quite like being praised.”

“Oh?” you purred, pressing a slight kiss against his jaw.

“I’m afraid it might even be my undoing.” Astarion’s breath hitched at your touch, a mixture of desire and surprise. His usual confident demeanor faltered for a moment, replaced by a subtle vulnerability that that only added to his charm. You could feel the tension in his body as you continued to shower him with words of of adoration, each compliment causing a visible reaction in him. Each word causing him to grow harder under you.

The way his skin flushed under your fingertips, the way his breath quickened at the sound of your voice- it was clear that he was not accustomed to being showered with this amount of genuine praise. And yet, there was something undeniably alluring about the way he responded to it, as if each word ignited a fire within him that he struggled to contain.

As you leaned in closer, your lips grazing the sensitive skin of his neck, you felt him tremble beneath you. His hands reached out, seeking purchase on your waist as he pulled you even closer, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you any longer. And in that moment, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his defenses crumbling before your eyes, you knew that you had uncovered a side of Astarion that few had ever seen.

With a playful grin, he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips, his eyes sparking with mischief. “Well, it seems you’ve uncovered my weakness, after all,” he chuckled, his voice tinged with affection.

“At least my undoing will be pleasurable.”

Halsin -

~ Possessiveness ~

With a sharp pang of jealousy slicing through your chest, you watched as the stranger flirted shamelessly with Halsin, their words dripping like honey from a comb. Every chuckle exchanged between them felt like a knife, igniting a fiery possessiveness within you that you struggled to contain.

As the evening wore on, your gaze kept drifting back to them, unable to shake off the unease that coiled in the pic of my stomach. Just when you thought you couldn’t bear it any longer, Halsin caught my eye.

The Druid made his way towards you, his brow furrowed in concern as he noticed the turmoil swirling in your eyes.

“Are you alright, my heart? You seem… distressed.”

A rush of conflicting emotions crashed over you - the burning jealousy, the fear of losing you to this charming stranger, and the undeniable longing for Halsin’s attention to be solely yours. Taking a deep breath, you finally found the courage to speak, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I… I’m feeling possessive,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment

Halsin’s eyes softened with understanding, his hand cupping your face tenderly. “You have nothing to worry about. You hold my heart in your hands.”

Before you could reply, a surge of fierce determination overtook you. In a bold move, you pulled Halsin close and captured his lips in a fiery kiss, a silent flaunting of your love in front of the bewildered stranger.

Halsin pulled back after a moment, his breathing heavier and eyes a shade darker than they were before. Without a word, his gaze pierced yours, a hunger igniting in his eyes that mirrored the fervor burning within you. His lips curled into a mischievous smile, a silent challenge passing between you.

With a daring glint in your eye, you tugged at his hand, leading him away from the curious onlookers towards a secluded alcove hidden behind cascading vines.

As soon as you were enveloped in privacy, Halsin wasted no time in pressing you against the cool stone wall, his breath hot on your skin. “So possessive, my heart,” he murmured huskily, his hands roaming over your body with familiarity and desire.

“Mine.” You growled, claiming him in a kiss once more.

His chuckle vibrated against your lips. A low and enticing sound that sent shivers down your spine. You felt his hardening member press flush against your stomach, his touch tightening around you.

“Be careful with the words you say, my heart. I may not be able to control myself.”

Gale -

~ Orgasm Denial ~

You watched as Gale’s body arched in pleasure, his mind consumed the sensation of ecstasy. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only you, him, and his cries of desperation as he thrust into your mouth. Every touch, every swirl of your tongue sent waves of desire through him, building towards an inevitable climax,

But just as Gale felt himself teetering on the edge of release, you abruptly pulled away, leaving him gasping for air. You watched as he sat up quickly, confusion and frustration evident on his face.

“Why did you stop,” he panted, his voice edging into a whine.

You smirked slightly, a devious glint in your eyes. “Because,” you began, your voice low and sultry, “I wanted to see how much you really wanted it.”

Gale’s eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, he hesitated, as if contemplating his next move. His desire seemed to rage within him, but you stayed still, gazing up at him.

Underneath his annoyance, you saw the undeniable truth-

He enjoyed this.

“You can try to deny it, Gale,” you said, your words a seductive purr. “But you’re melting in my hands.”

With those words, you leaned forward, allowing your lips to brush against the fender skin of his hip, sending shivers down his spine. Your hands gently traced the contours of his body, taking your time in teasing the man. His hips shifted desperately, the feel of your touch driving him wild with need.

“Please, no more,” he begged, his voice hoarse with desire.

Gently, you tilted your head to me with his gaze again, your eyes sparkling. “Oh, but my sweet Gale,“ you whispered, letting your voice linger on his name like a caress. “I think you’re going to love this”

Your lips met his erection, your warm breath sending shivers down his spine. Gale’s hands found their way to your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he gasped out your name.

As you sank down, your mouth enveloping him, he moaned, his hips bucking upward involuntarily. You held him steady with one hand, your other hand continuing to stroke him, the rhythm in sync with the movements of your head.

Gale’s body trembled, his breaths, becoming ragged, the sound of pleasure filling the air. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the need for release overwhelming him.

Then, at the height of his pleasure, you knew you had to give him what he needed. Your mouth devoured him, your hand pumping harder and faster. Gale arched his back, his hips bucking, his body shook, and then, with a massive release, he cried out your name, his climax overwhelming him.

You continued to work him, milking every last drop, until finally, he collapsed, spent. Then, with a contented sigh, he gave you a weak smile.

“I wouldn’t mind doing something like that again.”

Wyll -

~ Being in public ~

You and Wyll wandered into a dimly lit trinket shop, the kind that smelled of old dust and incense. The shelves were crammed full of curiosities, ornate music boxes that played haunted melodies, delicate glass orbs that held swirling liquid, and intricately carved wooden figurines. Your eyes were drawn to a beautiful silver bracelet adorned with tiny sapphires that sparkled in the dim light.

As you reached out to touch the bracelet, Wyll’s warm breath tickled your ear.

“I like it when you wear silver,” he murmured, his voice low. You could feel his chest pressed against your back, his heart beating in time with yours. He leaned in closer, his lips grazing your neck and erupting your skin in goosebumps.

You shivered slightly under Wyll’s touch, the sensation sending a wave of tingling pleasure down your spine. The air in the seemed to crackle with a new energy, the other patrons oblivious to the tension between the two of you.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as Wyll’s hands found their way to your waist, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. Your pulse quickened as he turned you around to face him, his eyes dark with an intensity that made your knees weaken.

“You tease me far too much,” you chided, though the playful glint in your eyes betrayed the desire that burned within you. “Someone is bound to hear.”

Wyll only smiled, a smirk that sent a thrill through you. “I can’t help myself when you look so irresistible,” he whispered huskily, his voice sending heat straight to your chest.

Before you could respond, his lips captured yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless and wanting more.

“Careful, it would be a shame if someone heard those little moans you’re keeping from me,” he teased against your lips.

You pulled away from the kiss, your heart pounding in your breath coming in short gasps. “I think we should probably find a more private place,” you managed to say, your voice shaking but determined.

Wyll, ever the gentleman, wrapped an arm around your waist and gently led you through the crowded shop, weaving between the curious trinkets and inquisitive shoppers.

“If you insist, though I wouldn’t have minded giving everyone a show.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

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mooshywrites · 1 month

Note

*Takes a bite of ur writing*

Very good, more pls 👍

MoosyWrites is not responsible for any brain rot you may receive by eating my fics (but for, thank you it means so much <3)

#im expanding my brain rot soon #no one will be safe from my degeneracy

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mooshywrites · 1 month

Text

Bloodied Stars - Part 3 - Red and Gold Stitching

Fem!Reader x Ascended Astarion

Masterlist

Art commissions

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Comment here to be tagged in chapter updates

Word count - 5.5k

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“We could be a family”

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Chapter list

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You awoke with a start, grimacing when your muscles protested sorely. You rubbed your eyes, trying to regain your bearings.

You were in your bed.

Familiar sights and smell filtered in, the skeins of thread littering your table, the comfortable fabric of your quilt over you, the sunlight filtering through your bedside window.

You squinted at the light, memories of the night before appearing as snippets.

Your cheeks flushed red as what you had done hit you all at once. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, remembering the feeling of the vampire’s hands all over you.

You reached up, fingertips tracing over the twin pinpricks on your neck.

Not a dream, then.

You took in a deep breath, looking out the window. With a shake, you tried to ignore thinking about how exactly you’d been returned to your bed, or what it meant for an ascended vampire of all people to know where you lived. You tried to keep the sadness from tugging at your chest, shaking off the sleepiness from the morning.

As you stood up and stretched, you tried to fill yourself with determination. You were home. You were alive. More importantly, you had orders to fill.

It was best to put your near death experience and incredibly alluring one night stand as far out of your mind as possible. After all, you would never be seeing the pale elf again.

Would you?

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The next few days had dragged on painfully slow. The orders you usually snagged as a seamstress seemed to have all but dried up completely. Business was usually a little slow around this time of year, but the extra time on your hands did nothing to help your constant habit of thinking about your night with the Vampire.

In the evenings, you even found yourself focusing outside of your window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man. But there was never a single sign from him. You hadn’t been back to the bar where you met Amastacia since that night, but you were sure she wouldn’t have shown her face there either.

As the days turned into weeks, doubts began to creep in your mind. Had it all been some sort of dream?

Your mood wasn’t helped by the ill timed cold you caught. Earlier in the week, you found yourself growing nauseated constantly. The only thing you could force and keep down was a meat broth, a dish you’d had every day for almost entire week by now.

When the sunlight started streaming through your window this particular morning, your nausea was a little more kind to you than usual. Happy to be finally getting over the sickness, you stretched with a yawn. Making your way to the window, you soaked in the cool morning air washing over you like a soothing balm. As you gazed out at the waking city below, your stomach growled loudly.

At least with the nausea gone, you finally had an appetite.

You padded your way into the small kitchen, rummaging through your stores for ingredients. The kitchen was always a disheveled mess, neglected in favor of your sewing. That meant finding anything in here was a nightmare. With a sigh, you settled on a vegetable medley and cured sausage for breakfast. Now that you would be able to keep food down, it would probably be important to get as many nutrients as possible.

But as you began chopping the colorful vegetables, a sudden wave of unease washed over you. The vibrant hues and crisp textures that usually had you drooling now seemed to turn your stomach. The sight and smell of the sausage made your nose wrinkle and body recoil in a way you couldn’t comprehend.

Frowning, you tried to push away these strange feelings, attributing them to the lingering effects of your recent illness. But as you continued to cook, an undeniable craving gnawed at the back of your mind, growing louder with each passing moment.

And then it hit you. As you watched the crimson juices from the beets stain the cutting board, a primal desire surfaced.

A desire for that juice to be blood.

Disgust filled you immediately, conflicting emotions warring within you. You dropped the knife with a clatter, feeling as though you were teetering on the edge of sanity. Your thoughts immediately flicked to the night you shared with your very own bloodsucker.

Had you been turned into a spawn?

No, surely that was impossible. Embarrassing as it was to admit, you’d read up quite a bit about vampires in the past weeks, your curiosity getting the best of you. From what you had read, spawns were only created if they had died after being bitten by a vampire.

Though you didn’t have much memory of after you fell asleep in the pale elf’s arms, you were very sure you hadn’t died.

It had to be from something else. As you stared at the red stained cutting board before you, you wondered if you should see a healer about this.

“Just don’t tell them you slept with a vampire,” you chided yourself with a hollow laugh.

Shaking off your unease, you resolved to go ahead and seek an expert. One who could shed some light on your peculiar situation.

You took a few minutes to throw on something other than your sleep shirt, slipping into your shoes to ready yourself for the day. The sky was starting to grow downcast and you cursed under your breath, hoping you wouldn’t show up to the healer looking like a rain drowned rat.

Leaving your beloved shop behind, you ventured out into the bustling streets. Despite the weather, the city was a cacophony of sights and sounds. Merchants hawking their wares, children playing in the cobblestone alleys, and plenty of shady characters lurking in the shadowed parts of the road. As you made your way through the crowded city, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at the edges of your mind. The events of the past few weeks weighed heavily on your soul, and the mystery of your newfound condition haunted you like a ghost.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the cobblestone as you finally arrived at the healer’s shop. The building was a quaint little establishment, nestled amongst winding ivy and foliage, its wooden sign creaking in the gentle breeze.

Pushing open the door, you were greeted by the scent of herbs and dried flowers, mingling with the smoky aroma of incense. The healer, a wise old half-elf with kind eyes, looked up from his book with a smile.

“Welcome to Bandages, Books, and Bobs, dearie,” he croaked. “What ails ya’.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to broach the subject with the elderly man. His wrinkled face held centuries of wisdom, yet you couldn’t shake the doubt he’d be unable to help.

Taking a deep breath, you finally found the courage to speak, your voice hushed with nervousness. “I.. I don’t know exactly. It’s like… like a cold but I’m having some odd food distaste as well. Along with fatigue of course.”

The healer’s gaze turned sharp and focus,ed his eyes peeking over his glasses as he studied you. After a moment of silence, he let out an approving grunt, hobbling over to a low set table.

“Fatigue, you say? Let’s see if we can’t find the cause. Sit down over here, dearie, and let old Birch have a closer look,” he smiled.

You settled onto the worn wooden table as Birch meandered around the shop, grabbing a few different apparatuses in his arms.

The elder laid out his instruments meticulously, rambling under his breath about organization. He first reached for a delicate silver chain with a shimmering crystal at its end, swinging it gently in front of your eyes. As the crystal danced in the light, you felt a wave of calm wash over you, soothing any nerves you had.

Birch then brought a small vial filled with a vibrant blue liquid that seemed to glow from within. He uncorked the vial and carefully placed a drop onto his gnarled finger, which he then touched to your forehead. The liquid seeped into your skin, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake.

“These must be old methods,” you wondered aloud as the old man observed your reaction.

“Older than the city in which we sit,“ Birch assured happily.

Finally, he moved on to a bundle of dried herbs tied together with a satin ribbon. He crushed the herbs between his weathered palms, releasing a fragrant aroma that filled the room.

“Take a deep breath, dearie,” he instructed.

As you inhaled the earthy scent, your stomach upturned immediately. You gagged on the smell, willing yourself not to throw up on the elder in front of you. The healer’s hands dropped as he looked at you with newfound understanding, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smile.

“No need to worry, my sweet,” he said gently. “You and your special someone are about to be a trio.”

You felt a lump form in your throat as you met his gaze, your thoughts trying to piece together what the old man was saying.

“You’re with child,” he offered knowingly.

A rush of emotions flooded through you as the healer’s words settled in.

A child?

How could this be possible? Realization hit you like a ton of bricks as your mind raced back to the night you’d been taken. The memory that you’d desperately tried to move past. In a daze, you grabbed the edges of the table, trying to steady yourself. The healer’s voice seemed to fade in the background as you grappled with the situation you found yourself in.

Questions tumbled through your mind, a tempest of uncertainty and fear threatening to consume you whole. What kind of creature were you even carrying in your womb? None of the books you had read said anything about vampires conceiving children.

Could you even take care of a child?

You were by no means destitute, but your shop and home were small. Your income was only enough to manage scraping by, definitely not enough for what it took to raise someone.

Amidst the chaos of your thoughts, a flicker of another feeling stirred within you - a cool and collected determination. It seemed so out of place in the whirlwind of panic consuming the rest of you.

You were going to have to find the pale elf again.

The strange sense of purpose settled deep within you as you mulled over the thought. Whatever you were carrying was going to be at least half vampire. You vaguely remembered the man saying something about being ‘ascended’ as well. Nothing you had read about explained anything about ascension, so you had no idea how that would factor into your already lacking knowledge surrounding the pregnancy.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed aside the doubts and fears that threatened to overwhelm you. You knew one thing for certain - you needed answers. And the only one who could provide them was the mysterious pale elf who had set this chain of events in motion. You needed to talk to him if you had any hopes of surviving this pregnancy.

If you could find him, that was.

“Thank you for the help, I’m glad it’s not anything more serious,” you smiled at the man, trying to keep your voice even and assured.

He gave you a bright smile, ushering you to the front to take your payment. His wise eyes never left you, seeming to understand the turmoil of emotions swirling within you. Thankfully, he didn’t pry too much into your sour mood. With a final thank you, you turned to leave.

“Good luck with the little one, dearie! You’ll be just fine,” he called out.

Oh how hard it was to keep the tears from flowing with that encouragement.

Leaving the healer’s abode, your mind was consumed by the puzzle that lay before you. There was three things you knew you needed to find out. What did it mean to be ascended? How would that factor in to your baby?

Most importantly, how do you find someone when you don’t know where they live or even know their name?

The determination that had taken root in your chest blossomed into a steely resolve as you navigated the winding streets of the city. The only place you could think to start looking was the tavern where it all began.

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Waiting for the pub to open that evening was hellish, your body thrumming with the need to do something with all the nervous energy you were producing.

You shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden bench outside the tavern, your thoughts drifting back to the healer’s words. The finally setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over the cobblestone streets. As you sat there, your hand absentmindedly rubbing your arm, you couldn’t help but wonder about the child growing inside of you. Were they the reason you were craving raw meat? You couldn’t help but giggle as you paired the thoughts together.

“I hope you don’t want blood often,” you mused to yourself. “Otherwise, you and I are going to have a long nine months.”

Did vampires even have nine month pregnancies? You hadn’t even thought of how the race would affect you, you were so caught up in what it meant for your child to be half vampire.

Lost in your thoughts, you almost didn’t notice the sound of the tavern door creaking open. It didn’t take long for people to begin spilling in, the sound of laughter and clinking spilling into the streets.

Stepping inside, the warm light and comforting smell of ale washed over you like a familiar embrace. In minutes, the tavern was crowded with patrons, their voices blending together. You made your way to a corner table, watching and waiting.

Hours passed as you nursed a mug of honey tea, your gaze darting around the room, searching for any sign of recognition. Sleep had already started to pull at your eyes, the fire crackling making you even drowsier.

Then, just as you were beginning to lose hope, a figure caught your eye. A well dressed man sitting at the bar, laughing loudly at the woman next to him. There was something about his stark white hair that sparked the memory within you. His were the same shade of hair and eyes as your pale elf.

Without hesitation, you rose from your seat and approached him, heart pounding in your chest. As he turned to face you with a confused glance, you cleared your throat loudly. The woman next to him gave you a look as well, her eyes giving you a critical once over.

“Can I help you?” the man prodded.

“You should leave while you can,” you told the woman, ignoring the pale spawn. “Unless you want to be this guy’s dinner. And not in the fun way.”

The spawn’s eyes sparked with anger, the wooden pitcher of ale in his hand shaking slightly. The woman’s gaze flickered between you and the white haired man, uncertainty clouding her features. She seemed torn between heeding your warning and dismissing it as mere lunacy.

“Why should I believe you?” the woman challenged, her voice tinged with discomfort.

You took a step closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Because I know who he works for and what they’re capable of. Let’s just say it’s not something you want to stick around for.”

The white haired man’s grip on the pitcher tightened even further, his expression darkening with every passing second. With a glance, you could see the inner struggle raging within him, torn between obeying his anger and maintaining a facade of civility.

After looking to the spawn, the woman gave a quick nod, pushing herself away from the bar. She shot one last wary glance at the man before making a hasty exit. As soon as she was out of sight, the tension in your shoulders eased slightly. You looked back to the furious man, almost taken aback by the complete lack of fear you had. For gods sake, this was a vampire spawn. He could rip you limb from limb if he wanted, and yet, the only thing you felt was determination.

“What the hell was that,” the man gritted out.

“Careful, draw too much attention to yourself, spawn, and people will start asking questions,” you smiled.

“What?” he demanded in a hushed voice, his expression growing incredulous. “How would you know I was a spawn.”

“You all need to be introduced to the wide world of hair dye if you think you’re being discreet,” you dead-panned.

The pale man’s confusion was palpable, his brows furrowed together and his lips pressed in a thin line. He glanced around nervously, seemingly worried about anyone eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Now look,” you leaned in closer, your voice low and commanding. “I didn’t come here just to ruin your dinner. Take me to your boss.”

His eyes widened in astonishment, disbelief etched across his features. It was clear that he didn’t expect this brazen demand from someone so unassuming, but there was something in your unwavering gaze that made him hesitate.

He looked over you, determining whether you were a threat. After a moment of tense silence, the spawn straightened up, his demeanor shifting from anger to caution. Without a word, he gestured for you to follow him and began weaving through the crowded pub toward the back exit. You observed his face silently, seeing how easily his charm was turned off. How hollow his eyes looked now that he wasn’t playing a character.

The air grew colder as you stepped out into the alleyway, following the pale man into the darkness beyond. The path was thin and claustrophobic, winding and twisting as you walked. The spawn moved swiftly, his footsteps echoing against the stone as he led you deeper into the city.

After what felt like an eternity, you arrived at a watchtower, an inconspicuous ladder leading up. You vaguely remembered the place from when you had been drugged, but the memory was hazy. You were slightly taken aback by how normal the building looked. You climbed the ladder easily, following the spawn as he led you to the front doors.

The doors creaked open as the man pushed them, and you were met with a sight that stole your breath away. The interior of the bricked building was nothing like the plain outer walls. It was a grand entrance, with high ceilings adorned with intricate tapestries. The room was bathed in a soft ethereal light that seemed to emanate from nowhere, casting long shadows that danced along the walls.

You followed the spawn through the hall, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpets that lined the floor. The air was filled with the scent of sandalwood and brandy, a heady mix that made you feel light headed and on edge. As you passed by large portraits and shelves filled with expensive knicknacks, you couldn’t help but wonder how you didn’t know about the people behind these walls.

Finally, you reached a set of ornate double doors at the end of the hall. The spawn turned to you, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

“You asked for this,” he said cryptically, his voice barely above a whisper. “Whatever happens from this point is your own fault.”

With a sense of trepidation mixed with curiosity, you nodded for him to open the doors. The doors were silent as they opened, revealing a room that raised the hairs on the back of your neck.

It was just as richly detailed as the hallway, tall ceilings and crystal chandeliers with flickering candles. Through the shadow, your eyes landed on a figure at the end of the room, lounging on a plush chair. As your eyes focused in on the darkness, your breath stilled.

There was your pale elf.

He shifted lazily on the throne, his gaze fixed on something far beyond your reach. His white hair curled ever so delicately above his eyes, starkly contrasting his crimson gaze. Your eyes trailed over his features, the memory of the night you shared making your cheeks flush.

Not the time for such things, you thought.

“Have you brought me dinner?” The pale elf asked, the spawn next to you going still.

You stepped further into the room, trying to ignore the sharp scent of metal present in the air. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of annoyance as you realized the vampire wasn’t paying attention to your arrival, the feeling mixing with your crippling nervousness.

His eyes were glazed over as though he existed in a realm all his own, detached from the world around him. Despite his apparent disinterest, you felt the familiar pull towards the pale elf.

Like a moth to a flame.

“Sorry to disappoint,” you cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice calm. “But I’m not dinner.”

A flicker of recognition sparked in the vampire’s ruby eyes as he slowly shifted his gaze, focusing on you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. The memory of your clandestine encounter lingered between you, unspoken yet palpable in the charged air of the room. His surprise at seeing you seemed to mingle with a simmering anger, evident in the way his jaw tensed imperceptibly.

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the room, broken only by the faint rustle of fabric as you took a cautious step closer. The delicate dance of candlelit shadows played across the floor, casting an otherworldly glow upon your features. You steeled yourself, focusing on keeping your breath even and your shoulders back.

You wouldn’t let him see you afraid.

“You have quite the audacity to seek me out,” he remarked, his voice low and as smooth as the velvet flooring. A predatory gleam surfaced in his gaze, doing nothing to help the memories you were trying to ignore. “Or perhaps you simply enjoy tempting fate.”

Despite the tension that crackled between you, a sense of defiance bloomed within your chest. You refused to cower under his piercing stare, mustering all the courage you could gather.

“I came here with a purpose,” you asserted, your tone unwavering. “There’s something you need to know.”

A sardonic smile tugged at the corners of his lips, revealing a hint of pointed fangs that glistened in the dim light.

“Is that so?” he drawled, amusement coloring his words. “And what makes you think I would be inclined let you live long enough to speak?”

The challenge in his voice spurred something primal within you, fueling your annoyance into a flaming blaze of anger. The arrogant smile across his lips had lit the wrong fuse within you.

“Because I’m carrying your child,” you replied simply.

The vampire’s eyes widened in shock, his confident demeanor fading entirely as he processed your words. The air was thick with tension, your confession lingering like a hanging shroud.

“Leave,” he demanded, his eyes flicking to the spawn beside you. Those words were all it took for the smaller man to make a hasty exit. For you to be alone with the pale elf again.

Something told you that this time would be a lot less pleasurable than the last.

“You’re carrying my child?” His voice wavered, betraying a hint of something deeper beneath his usual arrogance.

You held his gaze steadily, willing him to see the truth in your eyes. “Yes,” you affirmed, your voice soft but still sure. “I didn’t come here seeking a fight. I came here because I know nothing of how your kind works. I don’t want this pregnancy to kill me just because I was unlucky enough to conceive with a vampire.”

His gaze softened entirely at the vulnerability in your words, a split second where he even looked on you with compassion. Only a moment after, his demeanor hardened again.

“If that is indeed the case, you’re not leaving,” he declared firmly, his voice carrying a tone of finality that allowed no argument. The shadows seemed to gather around him like a cloak, emphasizing the sharp angles of his features and the intensity in his eyes. You shivered involuntarily, feeling the weight of his command pressing down on you.

Not leaving?

As if in response to his words, the room felt as if it was shrinking around you, the walls closing in at the thought of being stuck in a place like this.

“Why not?” you whispered, suddenly desperately wanting to be back in your comfortable home. All of the confidence you felt drained from your body, pinned under the vampire’s stare.

“You carrying my heir is not a situation I had anticipated,” he sighed, looking off as he planned aloud. “But now that it is here, we must consider our next steps carefully.”

Your skin began to crawl, feeling uncomfortable with how quickly his words started to sound like a strategy. As if he was thinking about how to work in a new pawn to his game.

“Having an heir could mean a powerful ally in my world,” he continued.

You weighed the words carefully, biting your tongue in an attempt to rationalize the aggressiveness that rose in your chest.

“You see this baby as a calculated move to further your power?” you accused, the words like venom on your tongue.

His gaze grew pointed, warning flashing in his eyes. “You underestimate the significance of the child you carry,” his voice was soft but laced with underlying threat. “With an heir born of an ascended bloodline, I could solidify my position.”

“This child I carry is not a pawn for you to manipulate,” you spat, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for his response.

His jaw clenched, the muscles working beneath his skin as he struggled to maintain his composure. But you saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes, a vulnerability that almost made him seem human.

“You think I wanted things to turn out this way?” he gritted. “That night was a mistake. But now I must adapt with the hand I’ve been dealt.”

You flinched at his words, trying not to let the way he said ‘mistake’ carve a wound into your heart.

Was that night a mistake?

“A child can’t bear the weight of your world,” you pleaded.

“My heir can,” he seethed, baring his teeth as he spoke.

You shoulders sagged, exhaustion suddenly breaking you. You knew this was a fight you couldn’t win. You were completely and utterly trapped. You had no way of protecting the life growing inside of you.

Tears slipped down your cheeks as the life you would lead began to play out in your mind. Your heart ached at the thought of your baby being destined for a life devoid of innocence and joy. Images of a dark and twisted future flashed, a future where your child would never know the warmth of the sun or the laughter of other children. You knew you would be cast aside after giving birth, thrown away when you had served your purpose. But thinking of having the baby, looking at its little face and crystal clear eyes opening for the first time and it being to a world so violent…

That hurt worse.

“Not my baby,” you whispered helplessly, despair clouding your mind.

The vampire’s expression softened as he saw the tears on your cheeks, the depths of your emotion in your words. His cold facade cracked for a moment, a wave of sadness in his eyes.

“This does not have to be so grim,” he began, his voice much more gentle. “Your life isn’t over. Neither is the baby’s. I wouldn’t take that from them before they even take their first breath.”

Confusion etched across your features as you dared to hope, a spark of uncertainty mingling with the fear in your heart. Slowly, the vampire stood and took a few steps towards you, his gaze meeting yours with an unexpected tenderness.

“We could even be a family,” he said softly, the words lingering in the air like a fragile promise. “A real family, one that doesn’t impose the weight of responsibility on an heir until they’re old enough to bear it. Power can be safety. Especially in the world the baby will grow up in.”

As you gazed into the vampire’s eyes, a glimmer of longing began to take root in your chest. The idea of a family, of a future not tainted with this pale elf’s blood soaked world, seemed almost within reach. His words carried a sliver of hope that you desperately clung to in the midst of your despair.

But as you continued to study his face, looking for any signs of hesitance, you noticed the hollow look that lingered in his eyes. It was a subtle shift, barely perceptible, but it sent a chill down your spine. All at once, the realization struck you like a hideous bolt of lightning-

He was lying.

Anger surged within you, fierce and unrelenting. How dare he play with your emotions, offer you everything you had dreamed of? And for what? So he could gain an inch more of power by raising someone to be as monstrous as him?

Your tears grew hot, rage fueling every thought you had. With a steel edge to your voice, you glared up at the vampire.

“You can’t help it can you?” you seethed. “Too weak to get anything in life without manipulation. I won’t sacrifice my life for you.”

The vampire’s lips curled into a challenging sneer, the air growing heavy as he stepped closer. Each step was deliberate, each movement menacing

“How dare you speak to me like that,” he hissed, mere inches from your face. “You are nothing but a mere mortal, insignificant. You know nothing of sacrifice.”

You stood your ground, refusing to cower before him. The vampire’s gaze darkened, anger brewing behind his eyes as he regarded you.

“Faelar!” He barked, his eyes switching to the door in which you entered.

Before you could react, the door opened quickly. A taller man with the same stark white hair entered, his head bowed respectfully. The vampire took a step back from you, giving the spawn his attention.

“Take her,” he commanded, his tone icy. “Lock her in the spare room until she learns her place.”

The spawn obeyed without question, his expression blank as he approached you. He picked you up deftly, tucking you against his chest.

“No!” you cried out, trying to struggle against his arms.

Despite your thrashing and attempts to break free, his grip was unyielding and firm. His strength was unnatural, his muscles like steel beneath his pale skin. As he started to carry you down the hall, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread settle in the pit of your stomach.

Eventually you stopped fighting, devolving into a puddle of tears in the spawn’s arms. The spawn held you close through the dimly lit corridors of the ancient mansion, his steps clicking softly. Your sobs had morphed into silent tears, leaving only the hollow ache of helplessness.

As he pushed open a pair of heavy wooden door, a waft of musty air greeted you, mingled with a faint scent of dried roses. You peeked around in the dark room, taking in your new prison. The room was sparse, furnished with a bed draped in faded linens and a solitary bookcase covered in dust.

The spawn laid you down on the bed with surprising gentleness, his touch feather-light against your skin. His hollow eyes had softened as he regarded you with an unspoken empathy. Your eyes flitted to the door, gauging whether you could outrun a vampire spawn in an escape. As if reading your mind, the man shook his head apologetically.

“Don’t try. You’ll only make him angrier,” he chided. His voice was airy, an accent you couldn’t place rounding out his vowels.

“It seems he’s always angry. Angry and drunk on power” You bit out, regretting the venom in your tone when the spawn flinched.

“You may be right,” he sighed, smoothing out the bedding next to you. “But some who thirst for power are only afraid of what will happen if they don’t have it. Anger is a powerful mask for fear.”

You looked away, mulling over his words silently. You didn’t want to humanize your captor. Didn’t want to think of him as anything other than the monster in your fairytale.

“Someone will visit you with food. Perhaps I can convince the Master to make the room more comfortable as well,” the spawn assured you, moving toward’s the door.

You thumbed the fabric on the bed idly, trying to ignore the growing exhaustion you felt. The cover was just as soft as it looked, the red velvet still bright under the layer of dust. Your fingertips ran over the gold detailing as you thought, resolving yourself to leaving an escape plan for the next day.

“I’ll take my leave, unless you need anything else,” the spawn offered gently, as if he was worried he’d shatter the sliver of composure you had left.

“What’s his name?” you asked, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could even register them as thoughts.

“Astarion,” the pale man whispered, his voice more tense than before. He slipped past the door and shut it before you could ask anything else, leaving you in the dark dusty room. The door clicked as soon as the it shut, locking you within.

You fell back against the bed, too tired to cry any more than you already had. You stared at the gold and red stitching on the duvet below you, trying your best to ignore the shade’s dead match to the Vampire’s eyes.

Astarion, you thought, rolling the name around in your head.

Before your eyes fluttered shut for the day, your naive heart couldn’t help but remember his all too pretty lie.

“We could be a family.”

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Next chapter

Comment here if you would like to be tagged in chapter updates

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Tagged ~ @dinoace2 , @tiedyedghoulette , @bloodlust-1 , @n3cros1sbunny , @bookishpenguino

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mooshywrites · 1 month

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How to tell they’re falling for you

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Masterlist

Art Commissions

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Astarion ~

~ Astarion keeps his feelings so close to his chest that it’s difficult to realize when he’s slowly falling for you

~ If you play close enough attention, the little gifts he brings you would give away how he felt immediately

~ They start out mundane, practical things he gives you to help with the journey

~ Health potions when you’re getting low, expensive ale he found while rummaging, enchanted weapons that lent to your class

~ Ever so slightly, the gifts would get more personalized, more meaningful

~ A handkerchief with your initials embroidered in it, a book you had glanced over for a split second longer than the others

~ He always denies the idea that the things he gives you mean anything, too insecure of the thought of love

~ Even when he spent the morning trying to find your favorite flower, he refused to admit he was actually looking for it

~ “Don’t be silly, darling, it just happened to be in the field where I was looking for… something else.”

Halsin ~

~ With Halsin, it isn’t hard to notice he’s fallen hard for you at all

~ When you first met, though he was a bit flirtatious, it was nothing compared to the way he spoke to you when his feelings rose to the surface

~ He never missed an opportunity to compliment you, tease you, watch the blush rise in your cheeks at his affection

~ Every word he said was meaningful, it was almost like you had a walking poetry book following you around

~ He compared you to everything he found beautiful in nature, taking the time to pick out the blooming flowers that matched your eyes

~ Your other companions grew tired of it quite quickly, but nothing could stop your Druid from fawning over you

~ Soon, he was telling everyone else how enchanting he found you

~ No townsperson was safe from him spilling out all of the things he thought of yours truly

~ “You don’t understand. Silvanus couldn’t have gifted the world with a better person.”

Gale ~

~ The signs that the wizard is falling for you couldn’t be more… Gale-ish

~ You truly thought he had lost interest for a bit, all of his charms and flirting taking a back seat

~ That is, until you realized he was studying you

~ It started with books on a subject you had talked to him about, your special interests written out on the pages before him

~ The next time you talked, he proudly informed you that he had learned all about what you had told him, excited to talk about what you enjoyed

~ Then, he might has well have been reading a book all about you

~ He talked incessantly to you, trying to learn everything about you; your favorite things, the things you despised, down to your favorite shade of healing potion

~ The wizard worked all of this in to every day life, using his new knowledge to make every minute brighter

~ “I know you said you didn’t like this plant. Not to worry, I read all about it and how to avoid it.”

Wyll ~

~ It was hard to know when Wyll was falling for you or whether he was just being his charming self

~ It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to go out of his way for someone after all

~ Perhaps it took you a while to notice, but as soon as you did, you saw it everywhere

~ He wanted to help you with everything

~ Whether it was getting a stubborn strap of your armor loose or guiding you away from a mud puddle, he was always wanting to assist

~ Gods forbid there was an area laden with traps, the Blade would spend hours making sure didn’t step on one if he could

~ You never had to open a door, climb a step unaided, he even insisted doing your laundry in the river with his own

~ Even if you asked, he refused to let you return the favors

~ “Now surely you dont think I could let someone so enchanting go out of their way for me?”

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mooshywrites · 1 month

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Is it possible for me to ask to be tagged in Bloodied Stars so I don't miss a post?

Of course!! If anyone else would like to be as well, feel free to comment on this post and I’ll add you to the list :) <3

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mooshywrites · 1 month

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Bloodied Stars - Part 2 - Aop the Cobblestone Floor

Fem!Reader x Ascended Astarion

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Comment here to be tagged in chapter updates

Word count - 3.5K

Warnings - NSFW, MDNI, Smut, biting, blood, oral (male receiving), penetrative sex, vaginal sex, creampie (Series contains - Angst, “enemies” to lovers, pregnancy, disagreements, slow character growth, smut, typical asshole ascended astarion behavior, cliffhangers, murder, death. This takes place after the events in BG3, the ‘reader’ (you) is not Tav. Just another Baldur’s Gate resident.)

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“So desperate for danger, aren’t we, pet?”

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Chapter list

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“I’ll stay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the dimly lit room.

The vampire’s eyes glowed with a mixture of triumph and hunger as he pulled you closer, his grip steady. As his lips met yours in a fervent kiss, you knew in that moment.

Just for tonight, this pale elf was yours.

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His kiss was both chilling and intoxicating, his lips molding against yours in an icy frenzy. Despite his cool skin, you melted into his embrace, relishing the feeling of his hands gripping your sides

If not for the heat beginning to pool in your stomach, you might’ve been taken aback by how gently he held you. By how honest his kiss felt. It was if he was pouring hundreds of years of feeling into where you connected, kissing you like it was the last time he’d be allowed to hold someone close.

His tongue swiped over your lower lip earning a breathless gasp to spill from you. You parted your kiss, allowing him into your mouth. His tongue moved against your own, dancing in a deliciously sinful battle. You flicked your tongue over his sharper canine, smirking when you felt a shudder run down his spine.

You didn’t know where this sudden confidence was coming from. It was if you were possessed by a much braver woman. A spell held over you in some way. Perhaps it was the Vampire’s influence, his aura of danger mixed with the desire that trailed lazily through your veins. Or perhaps it was simply the allure of the unknown, the thrill of what could come next in this forbidden dance.

As he deepened the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer, you felt a hunger awaken within you. Something primal, all consuming. Like a fire had ignited in your entire being, burning away all reason and doubt. And in that moment, you knew you were lost to him in more ways than one.

You knew that this night could only end in heartbreak. In even more crushing loneliness.

But the way he groaned against your lip… how could you possibly care about what the morning would bring/

You felt his hand roam down your back, gently digging in to your soft skin. A low growl rumbled from his chest as he pressed his body against yours, his touch sending shivers down your spine. The room seemed to spin as you as you gave in to the overwhelming desire that pulsed between the two of you. Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the soft curls as you pulled him back into your kiss. Each moment with his lips against yours felt like an eternity, yet passed by in the blink of an eye.

As he pulled away slightly, his trail of kisses down your neck ignited a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path, the sensation was dizzying, all consuming, and undeniably addictive. You couldn’t resist him if you tried, his lips grazing across your fresh bite sending need straight to your core. You remembered how it felt to have his teeth piercing you, the wave of pleasure that soon followed when his venom entered the blood.

You moaned softly, your back arching against him as he nipped at the supple skin. The memory of the bite was both terrifying and exhilarating, the idea of him doing it again giving you an intoxicating high.

“Please,” you whispered airily, surprised by your lips betraying your thoughts.

“Please what, pet?” he practically purred, clearly enjoying how quickly you had become putty in his hands.

“Please bite me,” you breathed, your voice shaking with anticipation.

His eyes widened slightly, but not before they revealed a hint of satisfaction.

He had you now.

With a gentle smile, he leaned in closer, grazing his fangs ever so slightly against your jaw.

“Is that what you want, my darling?” he asked, his breath cool against your skin.

You nodded, not trusting your ability to speak without it coming out a string of embarrassingly desperate begs.

Slowly, he sank his fangs into your delicate skin, smirking against your neck.

The pain was sharp, just as it had been before, but it was completely overshadowed by the increasing wave of pleasure that washed over you. You couldn’t help but let out a whine, your body trembling under his touch. Your mind fogged over in a haze that very well could’ve been from either the venom or simply lust.

Heat pooled between your legs, your desire becoming more insistent. As he removed his fangs from your skin, you gasped for air, unsure if your body could take much more of this. Yet, you found yourself wanting more. Wanting more of him.

His lips met yours once again in a kiss that was both tender and fierce, his hand gripping your hip just enough to remind you of his dominance.

He pulled away, leaving you panting from the experience. Your eyes were met with an arrogant smile, the pale elf’s lips swollen with your kiss.

“So desperate for danger, aren’t we, pet?” he mused. “So easy to coax into doing exactly what I want.”

You gave him a halfhearted glare, not ready to let him think he had you in the palm of his hand just yet. You detested the arrogance in his words, the idea that he had any more control in this situation than you did. Especially when you could see the affect you had on him as well.

The way his chest rose and fell heavily, the way his pupils had expanded,

The way his length pressed against you, hard and inviting.

You gave him a small smile, luring him into a sense of innocence before brushing your knuckles against his clothed member.

“So desperate for control, aren’t we, pet,” you challenged.

His eyes flared with a surprise, a hint of heat ignited in his crimson gaze. You felt a shift in the room as it went silent and you knew in your bones that your unwillingness to play the damsel had changed something.

You stared back into his eyes, refusing to back down from his intense gaze. You were a breath apart, your fingertips still against him. His eyes searched your own, clearly an internal battle playing out in his mind. Finally, his eyes hardened.

“I am yours as you are mine,” he murmured.

You didn’t have a chance to wonder what he could have meant, the vampire’s pale arms wrapping around you and pulling you atop him.

His hardened member shifted against your core, your clothes doing little to dampen the shock of pleasure you felt against him. A moan tumbled from your lips, quickly swallowed by the pale elf’s kiss.

As his lips consumed yours, pleasure spread through your entire body, alighting you. His hands pulled at your shirt, rough and demanding. You didn’t resist, needing the practical stranger just as much as he needed you. The heat between you was palpable as he gathered the hem of your shirt with his hands. With a quick motion, he ripped the fabric down the middle, eliciting a yelp from you.

“I spent a long time on that!” you spat.

How hard it was to remain angry at a man when he looked at your bare chest with such reverence.

“Find another,” was all he offered in return, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss on your collarbone.

Your hands flew back to his hair, fingers clutched at the white curls as you pulled him back to your chest. The vampire chuckled, nipping at your breastbone while looking back up at you.

“Tell me, my darling,” he murmured lowly. “Tell me what makes a mere mortal deserving of someone as powerful as myself between their legs.”

“What makes a ‘powerful being’ so keen to bed a ‘mortal’?” you shot back, trying to hold back how deliciously pleasurable it felt to have his lips brush against the soft swell of your breast.”

The vampire pulled away, sitting at eye level with you once again. His eyes flashed in warning, trying to exude annoyance. You could see past the glare into the hint of amusement in his smile.

“I’m in no mood for games, pet,” he growled, his voice still dripping with seduction. He guided your hands to the button of his pants, smirking all the way.

“Show me why you wanted to stay,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over your lips as he leaned forward.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you undid the button, tugging at the zipper and pulling it down. With a smooth confident motion, he pushed the pants, releasing his encouraged erection with a smack against his stomach.

Your eyes widened, taking in the sight before you, and you couldn’t help but swallow hard. The vampire stood slowly, lowering you off his lap onto the cool stone floor. You looked up at him, his length standing proud and inviting before your gaze.

“Prove to me that you’re different than the others brought down to this cell,” he smirked, his voice low and demanding. It was a challenge, a dare thrown right at your feet.

Taking a breath and feeling a surge of desire, you rose to your knees and reached out to touch his hard length. Your fingers traced the veins, feeling the heat radiating from him. You licked your lips, hesitance filling you as you realized you had no idea what you were doing. Yes, you had fooled around with men before, mostly drunken one night stands to keep the cold lonely nights at bay.

But handling equipment this large?

“Show me what you want,” you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper, as you knelt down before him.

The pale elf stood there, watching you, his eyes dark and filled with hunger. He took a deep breath, seeming to have to steel himself in the moment. Then he reached down to take your hand, wrapping your fingers around his shaft. He aided your movements, starting you off by slowly stroking him up and down.

The feeling of having his length in your hand was both powerful and intoxicating. He let out a low groan and moved his hand to cup your cheek, his hips bucking forward slightly. You looked up at him, taking in his expression as you felt him. Your other hand, as though it had a mind of its own, trailed up to cup your breast.

The vampire’s breath hitched, his eyes glazing over as he watched your movements. You could feel your heart racing, your breaths coming in shallow pants as your body responded to his own groans.

Cautiously, you leaned forward and ran your tongue across the head of his length, tasting the mix of salt and musk that filled the air around him. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, you saw a flash of surprise in his expression before it returned to the ever present hungry gaze.

Emboldened by your own courage, you took him into your mouth, the rush of pleasure that flooded through at the moan spilling from his lips nearly overwhelming. You let out a satisfied hum, the sound vibrating through his length. He cursed at the feeling, pushing his member further into your mouth.

You knew then that you were in control even as you continued to pleasure him. His grip on your hair tightened as you took him deeper, trying to will yourself not to gag as you adjusted to his girth. The feeling of power surged through you, and you could feel his arrogant cascade slipping through his fingers easily.

You pulled back slowly, taking a moment to look up at him through your lashes. His eyes were shining with need, his lips parted in a breathless moan.

“Don’t stop, pet,” he growled, his tone almost sounding more like a beg than a demand.

You complied, taking him back into your mouth, sucking slightly as he thrust his hips forward. His fingers tugged at your hair lightly, coming undone by your actions.

You began to move your head confidently, setting a steady pace as he continued to watch you with rapt attention. His breaths became harsher and his movements more erratic.

You could hear the desperation building in his voice as he struggled to contain his lust.

“Oh gods, that’s it,” he groaned.

With a pop, you pulled of of his length, giving him an innocent smile.

You tried to still your heart as he glared back down at you. Were you playing with danger? Sure. It definitely wasnt smart to play so fast and loose with a monster who could no doubt rip you limb from limb.

But the flush in his cheeks made you want nothing more than to tease him.

“I’ve killed for much much less than that,” he warned as you stood.

“You won’t kill me,” you whispered, pressing yourself against his chest. As you looked up at him, you weren’t entirely confident in the words. Yet, there was something behind his threatening tone. Something deeper and possibly even…

Affectionate?

You pushed the thought out of your mind. One night stands with a kidnapping vampire were no place to develop feelings.

You pulled him into a kiss, trying to distract from your spiraling imagination. Your lips met his with a hunger than matched his own, the intensity of the kiss making you grow wetter. You felt him inhale deeply against you, as if he could smell your arousal in the air.

The pale elf broke the kiss, his eyes dark and taken on a primal quality. “I’m running out of patience, pet,” he purred.

With a deep breath, you kissed again, gentler this time. You slowly pulled him to the ground with you, wincing as the cold stone hit your skin.

With a few deft movements, you shifted to straddle him, gasping at the feeling of his length settling against your folds. The pale elf smirked, shifting his hips just enough to push against your swollen clit.

You moaned softly, adjusting yourself to his position. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer against him. The cold stone beneath your knees felt unnatural against your skin, but the feeling of his hardness against you made you forget your surroundings.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” his voice strained, your eyes snapping up to meet his.

Asking permission so sweetly? As a quite possibly all powerful ‘ascended’ vampire?

You couldn’t help but break into a wide smile, nodding slightly.

“I’ve never been more sure of any of my bad decisions,” you whispered, guiding his length to your folds.

The vampire groaned as he slowly entered you, the feeling of him stretching your aching walls making you shiver. He was so much bigger than you imagined, your body straining to take his length, and yet somehow, it seemed so perfectly right.

A sinful moan dripped from his mouth as he bottomed out inside of you, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. The only sounds in the room being your labored breaths melding together.

You clung to him, lifting your hips in a pace that was slow and deliberate at first, savoring ever inch of him that was filling you. You watched his face contort in pleasure, his ruby eyes locking onto yours with an indecipherable fervor you hadn’t seen before.

His soft hands gripped your hips, his nails digging into your skin as the pace quickened. You let your head fall back, allowing your hair to fall in waves down your back. The vampire began to move within you, his hips meeting your every move.

His lips caught at your collarbone, leaving a trail of soft kisses. A gentle contrast from the bruising pace he began to set. Each thrust drove him deeper, pushing him further than before. And with every plunge, your walls tightened around him, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The cold stone and mildew air was forgotten as the world around you collapsed in a haze of sensation. The only thing that mattered now was the monster beneath you. Taking you.

Claiming you.

Your moans were barely a whisper on your lips as he pounded into you, over and over, his hips bucking as though possessed by some primal force. It could have been hours, or minutes, it was impossible to tell as your desire built like a tidal wave.

“Just like that,” you whimpered.

His pants echoed against your skin, his kiss clumsily finding your breast. His teeth nipped at your skin, grazing across your pebbled nipple. You squeaked out a moan, arching your back against his mouth.

As your moans grew louder, the pale elf’s lust became more intense. His hips slammed against you, the friction undoing every thought you had. You could feel your core beginning to flutter around him, your body tightening with every thrust. The vampire growled low in his throat, his grip on your hips locking into place as you began to reach your climax.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you let out a scream. The pleasure overwhelmed your entire body, shifts of electricity and warmth coalescing into a cacophony of sensation. The pale elf’s thrusts began to stutter, his pants growing more raged. Just as you crested your high, you felt him still against you.

Leaning forward just enough to pierce the soft skin of your shoulder with his fangs.

Your vision was blinded by brilliantly light, the feeling of your orgasm shattering you in a way millions of times more intense. Every nerve felt alight, every drop of pleasure filtered into your awareness. You couldn’t even cry out, your muscles twitching and shaking. Vaguely, you heard the man groan, warmth filling your core in spurts.

It seemed like hours before your climax subsided and senses began to return. If not for the vampire holding you, you’d be melted into a heap on the ground. His own breaths were ragged as he came down from his own high. You lay against him, gasping, your body still trembling from the intensity of the experience.

He pulled back slowly, his eyes glazed over with a sense of satisfaction. You found the strength to look at him, your gaze locked onto his crimson eyes that sparkled with a twisted admiration.

“A most fitting ‘thank you’ for allowing you to leave this place,” he mused.

You huffed in exasperation, leaning further against his chest. You couldn’t find it in you to be annoyed at his haughtiness. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close. Your heart clenched slightly, painfully aware of how gently he held you.

You weren’t ready to think about how it would feel when he finally let go. When you left this place for good.

Drowsiness tugged at your chest, your body all too heavy and spent. The soft circles the pale elf rubbed with his thumb did nothing to help the fatigue that suddenly washed over you.

“Well, pet?” The man asked, making you realize you hadn’t paid attention to anything he had said.

“What?” you responded tiredly.

His words never reached you, exhaustion ever so persistent in your bones.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your head nuzzling against the vampire’s chest. Sleep claimed you, pulling you away from the mildew and stone room.

Away from your pale elf.

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You awoke with a start, grimacing when your muscles protested sorely. You rubbed your eyes, trying to regain your bearings.

You were in your bed.

Familiar sights and smell filtered in, the skeins of thread littering your table, the comfortable fabric of your quilt over you, the sunlight filtering through your bedside window.

You squinted at the light, memories of the night before appearing as snippets.

Your cheeks flushed red as what you had done hit you all at once. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, remembering the feeling of the vampire’s hands all over you.

You reached up, fingertips tracing over the twin pinpricks on your neck.

Not a dream, then.

As you stood up and stretched, you tried to fill yourself with determination. You were home. You were alive. More importantly, you had orders to fill.

It was best to put your near death experience and incredibly alluring one night stand as far out of your mind as possible. After all, you would never be seeing the pale elf again.

…

Right?

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Next chapter

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mooshywrites · 1 month

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hi there~! if its not too much trouble, can I request a halsin x reader fic where reader/tav falls in battle fails a saving throw and requires a revivify? either pre-established relationship in Act 2 or established in act 3 would be okay~ i just love comforting and protective Halsin 🥺

Revivify

Reader x Halsin

Masterlist

Art commissions

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A/N - such a wonderful prompt, I almost cried at the request ;~;

Warnings - Minor spoilers, combat, blood, death and reviving, injury, angst

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“I almost lost you.”

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Sun filtered through leaves casting a dappled blanket over the soft grass under your feet. you took in a deep breath, inhaling the soft scent of flowers and damp soil. There wasn’t many moments on this journey that you could take this kind of pause. To remember the tranquility the world could offer.

It had been a few days since you and your party had reached Lower Baldur’s Gate. A few very long days. Between trying to find the origin behind the smattering of murders, gathering allies in your fight against the Elder Brain, and typical strange happenings that followed your companions like no other, you hadn’t had time to breathe let alone relax.

Halsin gave you a knowing smile as he stood along side you in the garden, his shoulders looking much more relaxed than they had been in weeks.

“Nature seems to always find a way to remind you of her beauty,” he murmured.

You looked around the garden once more, taking in the sereneness. In the distance, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the seemingly ancient trees, carrying with it the faint sound of conversation. You turned to see couples walking through the pathways, just as at peace with the world as you were.

“We can’t let ourself be lulled into complacency,” you sighed, your jaw becoming tense with focus yet again. “We’re up against some nasty people. We must be vigilant at all times.”

“Who would try to kill us in a city garden of all places, my heart?” Halsin asked, giving you pitying stare.

You avoided his gaze. As much as you longed for moments of peace like this, moments you could share with him, you knew the ever looming threat couldn’t be ignored.

“Even if,” Halsin continued. “We could handle ourselves in any-“

His words were cut off by a scream across the clearing, blood curdling and insistent. Your attention snapped to the source, your heartbeat quickening instantly. There stood a group of hooded figures, standing over a now silent body.

You tensed yourself, ready for attacks as more cloaked figures began to appear around you. You shot Halsin a look, checking around you to see if your other party members were ready for what looked like to be quite the difficult fight.

Without a moment of hesitation, you drew your weapon and took a defensive stance. Halsin was quick to follow, his expression determined. The air crackled with tension as the hooded figures stalked around you silently, their movements precise and almost synchronized.

As the first attacker lunged toward you with a gleaming dagger, you parried the blow expertly, feeling the impact reverberate up your arm. The fight had begun in earnest now, with spells flying and steel clashing against steel. You could hear your companions engaging in combat around you, their grunts and battle cries mixing with the chaotic symphony of violence unfolding in the garden.

Adrenaline surged through your veins as you focused on each opponent, their faces shadowed by the cloak. The shroud did nothing to hide the pure and pointed murderous malice in their eyes. Halsin fought beside you, wild-shaping as soon as the fight began. Even in the form of a large bear, his movements were calculated, precise.

One by one, the hooded figures fell before your party, their attacks repelled and countered with lethal force. You had taken a few blows, ones you knew would leave you quite sore when this was all over. Your muscles were beginning to burn with exertion, your voice raw as you threw your entire body weight behind your attacks.

Just as you thought victory was in reach, a movement in the corner of your eye caught your attention. Halsin had been hit hard enough to pull him back into his elvish form, the Druid panting as he fought two of the cultists. Nervousness rose through your chest quickly, worried he wouldn’t be able to handle the both of them.

Thankfully, he made quick work of one, turning to look to you amidst the chaos. His mouth moved in words you couldn’t hear, his expression suddenly panicked. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The only cultist left was the one in front of him. Then why was he looking at you as if he had seen a ghost? It took a moment to realize he wasn’t looking at you. He was looking behind you.

It took you a moment too long.

Blood pumped loudly in your ear as you began to turn, time seeming to slow when the shrouded figure came into your view. You brought up your weapon, your arms heavy as if they were pushing through water.

It was too late.

You felt something impact your side, the cultist smiling devilishly at you. You stumbled back, your brain fogging over slightly. You felt no pain, only a growing chill just below your ribs. You looked down to see the dagger pierced through your armor, blood dripping off of its handle.

Your blood.

Your vision began to blur, darkness creeping into the edge of your vision. Numbly, you clutched at the dagger, trying to contain the blood you were losing.

Your heart pounded as you tried to focus your eyes in front of you, looking around in a haze. You could hear Halsin’s voice, though it sounded miles in the distance. You could tell he was still fighting off the remaining enemy, the clashing of metal and grunts making their way through your disoriented state.

The world spun around you, and you fell raggedly to your knees, your grip on the dagger slipping. The wound in your side felt as if it were swallowing you whole, the ice cold chill spreading as you lost more blood.

You looked around, desperate for a way to survive, to continue fighting. But the air around you seemed thick with the scent of death, your healing potions long since depleted. You could feel your breath growing shallow, your throat tightening with every painful gasp.

Most of all, you felt tired. So incredibly tired. The ground beckoned to you like the world’s most comfortable goosedown bed, begging you to give in to sleep.

As your vision darkened completely, the last thing you heard was Halsin screaming your name.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Everything was dim for what seemed like an eternity, a comfortable silence enveloping you. It felt as if you were asleep, the deepest sleep you had ever had. Your wound no longer stung, the air no longer drenched with the smell of blood.

Absentmindedly, you wondered if you were supposed to be sad in this moment. It was hard to feel any kind of grief in a place so comforting. So quiet. You couldn’t even remember what could have made you sad in the first place.

A light flickered in the corner of the emptiness, rousing you from your contemplation. You stared at it, watching it glow brighter and more insistent. You brought your hand up, shielding your eyes from the blinding radiance.

Suddenly it felt as if you were falling, hurtling through the empty darkness. The light seemed to stretch endlessly towards you, a beacon in an endless abyss. As you plummeted towards it, the darkness around you began morphing into the shapes of trees and stones.

Forcefully you hit the ground, your breath knocked out of your lungs.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

You awoke with a start, your eyes opening back in the blood soaked garden. You took in ragged breaths, the red hot pain burning at your side causing you to cry out.

“Hold on, my heart,” a pained voice whispered against you, a warm green glow coming from their hands as they held you.

Through the blurred tears in your eyes, you could see Halsin holding you tightly, a smoldering scroll next to him. Your memory came back to you in pieces. The fight, the dagger.

The darkness.

“Did I die?” you asked incredulously, your voice like knives through your throat.

Halsin’s eyes squeezed shut as he continued his healing spell, his mouth in a tight line. “Yes,” he answered, his voice barely audible. “I had a revivify scroll, thank Silvans.”

Your heart clenched in your chest at the words. The remaining terror in his voice left you unable to speak.

Halsin continued to heal you, his focus unwavering. You tried to speak, but the problem wasn’t the rawness in your throat, you mostly just couldn’t find the words to say.

You had quite literally been dead. Worst of all, Halsin had watched you fall.

When he finally finished, you breathed a sigh of relief. The pain in your side was gone completely, the warmth of your blood returning to the wound. You snuck a glance up at Halsin as he looked down at you, his expression pained.

“I… I’m sorry,” you managed to choke out, the words catching on your tears.

Halsin clutched you tighter, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and horror. “No, I’m sorry, my heart,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I should have been there for you. I never should have let that happen.“

You reached up and placed a hand on his cheek, feeling your heart tug at the thought of how scared he must have been. “We were all in that fight together Halsin,” you said softly. “This isn’t your fault.”

He shook his head, his eyes filling with tears before he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You held him close, feeling a sob catch in his throat.

“I almost lost you,” he broke.

The weight of his words lingered heavy between the two of you as you held the large Druid, the gravity of what had happened sinking in. The reality of your mortality felt even more tangible than ever before, a chill running down your spine at the close encounter with death. Halsin’s arms holding you so desperately was both a comfort and a stark reminder of how fragile your lives truly were in this dangerous world.

“I’m here, Halsin,” you assured him.

The Druid began to catch his breath, pulling back and giving you a weak smile.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice still strained from the tightness of his emotions. “I’m not letting you go ever again.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, craving a little levity in the situation. “You can’t keep me in your arms forever.”

Halsin’s face softened at your light heartedness, his hazel eyes twinkling with affection. He gently combed his fingers through your hair, tracing the line of your jaw with his thumb.

“I’ll have to resort to locking you up then,” he quipped, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

You allowed yourself another breathless laugh, the tension in the air finally starting to dissipate. You nuzzled closer to the Druid’s chest, willing yourself to relax.

You were here, you were alive.

Halsin had saved you.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

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