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mirabai0821 · 18 days
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i did NOT expect my last halsin post to blow up- i mean seriously i was just horny and posted some thoughts but THANK YOU???
anyways. heres my humble offering in hopes to appease the gods (@strawzumie and @im-eating-rn)!!
cw: facesitting, pussydrunk halsin, fem!tav, d/s dynamic, overstimulation, lmk if i missed any lol ive been foaming at the mouth over this little thought
halsin has ALWAYS been a service dom. like he doesnt even THINK about cumming until you've already finished all over his fingers or his tongue, maybe even multiple times! he just loves the sweet little noise you make when you're overstimulated. he loves the squeals and whines that leave your lips, how you mutter his name under your breath? nothing sounds better to him.
"keep singing like that and you'll make the birds jealous, my heart" but how can he expect you to be quiet when he wont even let you hide your face?? insisting he needs to see that look in your eye when you cum AGAIN, swatting your quivering hands away when you tug a pillow up to your mouth, the man is so mean sometimes! cant he see how flustered you are?
god he loves the taste of you too. he's perfectly happy to eat you out until the sun comes out again, until you're crying so loudly that the entire camp can hear just how beautiful you sound with his lips flush against your cunt, nose nudging your puffy little clit every time you squirm!
and when i say facesitting i mean faceSITTING. you barely even have the chance to hear his throaty chuckle when you hover over his face until his hands snake around your thighs, pushing you down with such force youre worried that he cant breathe! i mean, the way his eyes glaze over and you can notice them cross doesnt really help soothe your worries either, but its not like you can get out of his tight grip, can you?
"so sweet.. heavens above, you're sweeter than honey" he mumbles against your throbbing core, his words muffled and the way his lips move only serve to send tremors of pleasure shooting up your spine. his tongue is practically scooping your wetness into his waiting mouth as it gushes out of you! and god, the way you whimper and grind your hips forward once you finally get over your fear of smothering him? you just earned yourself two more orgasms right there on his face! good luck getting his head out from between your thighs tonight <3
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mirabai0821 · 18 days
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Bear hugs for my Tav Étaín🐻❤️
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mirabai0821 · 18 days
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Oakfather preserve us, Halsin is too damn hot
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mirabai0821 · 23 days
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Blood and Honey WIP excerpt #(-b+-√b^2-4ac) / 2a
Pairings: Tav x Astarion Warnings: none Words: I actually have no idea, sorry. Summary: Astarion has found he's lost the battle for Tav's heart, but, somehow, has won the war anyway.
Astarion hunched over an uncorked but unsampled bottle of wine, overthinking, as Halsin cautioned him not to do, which, of course, made him want to do it more despite all the grief it gave him.
“Some things can be easy if you want them to be,” he groused to himself in his best impression of the druid. “What a load of bullshit.”
Bullshit that consumed him for the better part of a day. Just long enough for him to see Halsin walk out of Tav’s room wearing an unmistakable grin, like the bear that ate the beehive. 
He fell for it. He fell for that load of "we don't have to be enemies" crap and Halsin used it to make his move. The overwhelming feeling of loss scoured his insides to the bone though it was a wholly inappropriate emotion to feel. He wasn’t entitled to loss. Not for what his true designs were, and yet grief sank into flesh heavy as lead. He was surprised to find he could move, could speak.
“I’m too late aren’t I?” He said aloud, having somehow crossed the threshold of Tav’s door.
She startled from her papers. “Oh! Was I supposed to meet you somewhere? I’m sorry, Halsin was here and I lost track of time.”
Astarion chewed the inside of his lip to bleeding. I bet you did. 
“Don’t worry about it darling,” he answered blithely, strangely satisfied to make her feel bad for no reason. Another shining example why he had no claim to sadness. “I’m here now. All’s well.”
“Are you sure?”
“Naturally.”
Feeling a bit of his old, indifferent self return, he strode into her room, shutting the door and perched himself over her shoulder, hovering as close as a moth to lamplight.
“So…Halsin, I take it you two have patched things up?” He could smell the warmth of the druid on her. But try as he might to muster disgust, all he felt was contentment to be so near her again.
“He asked if he could join us, actually,” she said.
“Oh?” He feigned interest. “And what did you say?”
“I told him no at first.”
Astarion almost choked but recovered, smothering the gurgling sound with a giggle. “Why would you ever do that? Every group needs a strong back and a pretty face. It’s good for morale.”
Tav turned to glare at the vampire. “Really? I figured you’d be pleased. You two seem to always pick at each other.”
“Oh darling, that was only sport. Besides, that man would walk through the hells for you at the asking.”
He watched her nose, excited to see it wrinkle in blushing embarrassment but Tav looked almost pained to hear what anyone would want to hear about a lover.
Maybe…
“When did you last eat?” Tav asked, hoping to distract the vampire with food.
Astarion, sensing weakness, pounced. “Oh no you don’t missy, don’t change the subject. Besides, I’m not hungry.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Darling, I’ll have you know I spent a year locked in a coffin and turned out fine more or less,” he answered casually. “Now, just what did happen between you and that bear? Dish girl. Dish.”
“A year?” She asked quietly.
Astarion rolled his eyes, irritated both by the question and the fact he had no one to blame for its asking but himself.
“Yes. Sealed me starving inside a dusty tomb all on my own for an entire year.” He waved his hand to wave away the memory as if it were no great thing. “So half a tenday here or there really isn’t gonna do me in. Besides, I’ve barely noticed.”
“You’re lying. Your eyes are a duller red when you’re hungry.”
In 200 years, Astarion had never seen himself in a mirror –  one of the perks of being a member of the hungering undead. But he knew he possessed certain features. On more than one occasion bards had sang him sonnets of how beautiful he was in excruciating detail. So he knew about his silver hair, pouty lips, and sharp, hawkish features. One singer, apparently not one for exaggeration or self-preservation, had once put his crow’s feet in a verse.
But his eyes as a gauge for how full his belly was? That was new. He laughed genuinely, giddy with the knowledge.
“Are they now?” he said, voice still bubbling with laughter. After 200 years, someone had taught him something new. “Well, I suppose I shall have a drink then. After all, I can’t be seen with such dull red eyes. That won’t do. They must be glittering rubies at all times!”
He sang the last words, imitating those terrible, fawning bards. 
Tav shook her head, a small smile cracking on her face. “Glittering rubies?”
“But of course. The bards used to sing of them all the time. Why? What would you call them?”
Tav thought on this as she rolled up her sleeve offering him her wrist. “I don’t see a gemstone. Too cliche. I’d call them something of real value.”
Astarion casually inspected her wrist for a good place to bite, finding every bit of skin close to the vein littered with poorly or unhealed bite marks. He thumbed the wounds, suddenly ashamed.
“Let’s give your wrist a rest. Besides, I haven’t taken a draught from that delicious neck of yours in a while. Indulge me?”
Tav nodded and began fiddling with her stiff and fussy leather overshirt with a collar that stopped under her chin. She took her time, annoying him. The prospect of drinking from her neck made Astarion impatient.
“Let me,” He pushed her fingers aside to undo the laces himself. “Now go on, what could be more valuable than jewels?”
“Food. You can’t eat rubies. Your eyes are something cool and bitter but tasty. I dunno cranberries maybe? Though, I guess that wouldn’t sound so good in a song, huh?”
“It sounds beautiful to me,” he answered and said no more.
“I’d like to meet this Cazador of yours someday,” Tav said after a few moments of silence.
“Why in great gurgling Chionthar would you want to do that?”
“So I can kill him.”
Astarion’s fingers stilled, the last two laces still done up. “Really?”
“I think he’s more than earned it, don’t you?”
“Oh, very much so,” he croaked, forcing words out of his emotion-thickened throat. Whether or not he was “too late” didn’t matter anymore. She offered him the one thing he wanted. Freely. Without promise or payment. 
It was that easy.
And if that was so easy, as the druid had said, what else could be?
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mirabai0821 · 23 days
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Brain go brrrr thinking about Big Dick Halsin™
if you see this recycled in an actual one shot no you didn’t ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ It just feels selfish to keep this lil drabble to myself
Warnings: afab Tav/Reader x Halsin, p in v sex, breeding kink adjacent if you squint, MDNI
I can’t stop thinking about Tav’s first time with Halsin and how devoted he would be to her comfort and pleasure (at first 👀).
Her gasp from the first moment he slides the tip in, drowned out by his growl of pleasure at the tightness and warmth. The way he’d instantly send up a prayer to Silvanus under his breath because, gods above, though he’s been with many lovers, this feels like no paradise he’s ever known before.
He hardly makes it halfway inside her before the tightness is overwhelming.
“Breathe, my heart,” he murmurs, pressing a soothing kiss to your forehead. “You must relax if you’re to take all of me.” He presses a gentle hand across your abdomen, encouraging you to relax your muscles, affording him another couple inches.
When he finally bottoms out, it takes three centuries worth of strength to maintain control. He feels like a young adolescent again—ready to finish at the first pump.
He gives you all the time you need to stretch, to adjust, but when he feels your hips start to buck up beneath him and hears your pleas for him to take you, he feels his control start to give way.
Halsin feels drunk on the pleasure and the power: feeling how drenched you are for him, watching your body writhe beneath his, hearing you scream out his name as he wrings every last ounce of pleasure from your body. It’s more than he can bear.
For as tame and controlled as he started, towards the end, once your last orgasm has been wholly and utterly claimed by him and your body has given in completely, all sense of control is lost. His thrusts are completely untamed; his large hands have a death grip on your hips as he holds you steady and ruts up into you, his hard thrusts making you see stars. He comes with a literal roar of pleasure, flooding your walls with his seed. He pins you down with his cock as he pumps you full, each twitch of his cock sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. Moments pass and the part of you that’s barely clinging to consciousness marvels at how he’s still finishing inside you.
Finally, when the last of his seed has been spent, he withdraws, leaning down to press a kiss to your damp forehead, both of you out of breath and dizzy with pleasure.
“Thank you, my heart. You have given me something truly special tonight.”
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mirabai0821 · 24 days
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The oak father really guided me with this one huh
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mirabai0821 · 24 days
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the bear and the thorn
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mirabai0821 · 24 days
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Hi friends would you like a snippet of my Halsin wip 🙈
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“There is so much left to say, my heart.” Halsin’s gentle words caress your face like the sun’s rays on a warm summer day. “I have so much left to say.”
You keep your eyes closed, focus on taking another breath, keeping your heart steady. “Then speak.”
“I love you.”
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mirabai0821 · 28 days
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I'm not sure how to *frame* Halsin's recollection of his brother's death in this, but maybe it doesn't really need it anyway - it's likely going to end up having no real framing - just a memory floating in space.
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mirabai0821 · 29 days
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bear barbarian halsin.... do u get it
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mirabai0821 · 30 days
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Blood and Honey WIP excerpt #(-b+-√b^2-4ac) / 2a
Pairings: Tav x Astarion Warnings: none Words: I actually have no idea, sorry. Summary: Astarion has found he's lost the battle for Tav's heart, but, somehow, has won the war anyway.
Astarion hunched over an uncorked but unsampled bottle of wine, overthinking, as Halsin cautioned him not to do, which, of course, made him want to do it more despite all the grief it gave him.
“Some things can be easy if you want them to be,” he groused to himself in his best impression of the druid. “What a load of bullshit.”
Bullshit that consumed him for the better part of a day. Just long enough for him to see Halsin walk out of Tav’s room wearing an unmistakable grin, like the bear that ate the beehive. 
He fell for it. He fell for that load of "we don't have to be enemies" crap and Halsin used it to make his move. The overwhelming feeling of loss scoured his insides to the bone though it was a wholly inappropriate emotion to feel. He wasn’t entitled to loss. Not for what his true designs were, and yet grief sank into flesh heavy as lead. He was surprised to find he could move, could speak.
“I’m too late aren’t I?” He said aloud, having somehow crossed the threshold of Tav’s door.
She startled from her papers. “Oh! Was I supposed to meet you somewhere? I’m sorry, Halsin was here and I lost track of time.”
Astarion chewed the inside of his lip to bleeding. I bet you did. 
“Don’t worry about it darling,” he answered blithely, strangely satisfied to make her feel bad for no reason. Another shining example why he had no claim to sadness. “I’m here now. All’s well.”
“Are you sure?”
“Naturally.”
Feeling a bit of his old, indifferent self return, he strode into her room, shutting the door and perched himself over her shoulder, hovering as close as a moth to lamplight.
“So…Halsin, I take it you two have patched things up?” He could smell the warmth of the druid on her. But try as he might to muster disgust, all he felt was contentment to be so near her again.
“He asked if he could join us, actually,” she said.
“Oh?” He feigned interest. “And what did you say?”
“I told him no at first.”
Astarion almost choked but recovered, smothering the gurgling sound with a giggle. “Why would you ever do that? Every group needs a strong back and a pretty face. It’s good for morale.”
Tav turned to glare at the vampire. “Really? I figured you’d be pleased. You two seem to always pick at each other.”
“Oh darling, that was only sport. Besides, that man would walk through the hells for you at the asking.”
He watched her nose, excited to see it wrinkle in blushing embarrassment but Tav looked almost pained to hear what anyone would want to hear about a lover.
Maybe…
“When did you last eat?” Tav asked, hoping to distract the vampire with food.
Astarion, sensing weakness, pounced. “Oh no you don’t missy, don’t change the subject. Besides, I’m not hungry.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Darling, I’ll have you know I spent a year locked in a coffin and turned out fine more or less,” he answered casually. “Now, just what did happen between you and that bear? Dish girl. Dish.”
“A year?” She asked quietly.
Astarion rolled his eyes, irritated both by the question and the fact he had no one to blame for its asking but himself.
“Yes. Sealed me starving inside a dusty tomb all on my own for an entire year.” He waved his hand to wave away the memory as if it were no great thing. “So half a tenday here or there really isn’t gonna do me in. Besides, I’ve barely noticed.”
“You’re lying. Your eyes are a duller red when you’re hungry.”
In 200 years, Astarion had never seen himself in a mirror –  one of the perks of being a member of the hungering undead. But he knew he possessed certain features. On more than one occasion bards had sang him sonnets of how beautiful he was in excruciating detail. So he knew about his silver hair, pouty lips, and sharp, hawkish features. One singer, apparently not one for exaggeration or self-preservation, had once put his crow’s feet in a verse.
But his eyes as a gauge for how full his belly was? That was new. He laughed genuinely, giddy with the knowledge.
“Are they now?” he said, voice still bubbling with laughter. After 200 years, someone had taught him something new. “Well, I suppose I shall have a drink then. After all, I can’t be seen with such dull red eyes. That won’t do. They must be glittering rubies at all times!”
He sang the last words, imitating those terrible, fawning bards. 
Tav shook her head, a small smile cracking on her face. “Glittering rubies?”
“But of course. The bards used to sing of them all the time. Why? What would you call them?”
Tav thought on this as she rolled up her sleeve offering him her wrist. “I don’t see a gemstone. Too cliche. I’d call them something of real value.”
Astarion casually inspected her wrist for a good place to bite, finding every bit of skin close to the vein littered with poorly or unhealed bite marks. He thumbed the wounds, suddenly ashamed.
“Let’s give your wrist a rest. Besides, I haven’t taken a draught from that delicious neck of yours in a while. Indulge me?”
Tav nodded and began fiddling with her stiff and fussy leather overshirt with a collar that stopped under her chin. She took her time, annoying him. The prospect of drinking from her neck made Astarion impatient.
“Let me,” He pushed her fingers aside to undo the laces himself. “Now go on, what could be more valuable than jewels?”
“Food. You can’t eat rubies. Your eyes are something cool and bitter but tasty. I dunno cranberries maybe? Though, I guess that wouldn’t sound so good in a song, huh?”
“It sounds beautiful to me,” he answered and said no more.
“I’d like to meet this Cazador of yours someday,” Tav said after a few moments of silence.
“Why in great gurgling Chionthar would you want to do that?”
“So I can kill him.”
Astarion’s fingers stilled, the last two laces still done up. “Really?”
“I think he’s more than earned it, don’t you?”
“Oh, very much so,” he croaked, forcing words out of his emotion-thickened throat. Whether or not he was “too late” didn’t matter anymore. She offered him the one thing he wanted. Freely. Without promise or payment. 
It was that easy.
And if that was so easy, as the druid had said, what else could be?
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mirabai0821 · 1 month
Text
Blood and Honey WIP excerpt #(-b+-√b^2-4ac) / 2a
Pairings: Tav x Astarion Warnings: none Words: I actually have no idea, sorry. Summary: Astarion has found he's lost the battle for Tav's heart, but, somehow, has won the war anyway.
Astarion hunched over an uncorked but unsampled bottle of wine, overthinking, as Halsin cautioned him not to do, which, of course, made him want to do it more despite all the grief it gave him.
“Some things can be easy if you want them to be,” he groused to himself in his best impression of the druid. “What a load of bullshit.”
Bullshit that consumed him for the better part of a day. Just long enough for him to see Halsin walk out of Tav’s room wearing an unmistakable grin, like the bear that ate the beehive. 
He fell for it. He fell for that load of "we don't have to be enemies" crap and Halsin used it to make his move. The overwhelming feeling of loss scoured his insides to the bone though it was a wholly inappropriate emotion to feel. He wasn’t entitled to loss. Not for what his true designs were, and yet grief sank into flesh heavy as lead. He was surprised to find he could move, could speak.
“I’m too late aren’t I?” He said aloud, having somehow crossed the threshold of Tav’s door.
She startled from her papers. “Oh! Was I supposed to meet you somewhere? I’m sorry, Halsin was here and I lost track of time.”
Astarion chewed the inside of his lip to bleeding. I bet you did. 
“Don’t worry about it darling,” he answered blithely, strangely satisfied to make her feel bad for no reason. Another shining example why he had no claim to sadness. “I’m here now. All’s well.”
“Are you sure?”
“Naturally.”
Feeling a bit of his old, indifferent self return, he strode into her room, shutting the door and perched himself over her shoulder, hovering as close as a moth to lamplight.
“So…Halsin, I take it you two have patched things up?” He could smell the warmth of the druid on her. But try as he might to muster disgust, all he felt was contentment to be so near her again.
“He asked if he could join us, actually,” she said.
“Oh?” He feigned interest. “And what did you say?”
“I told him no at first.”
Astarion almost choked but recovered, smothering the gurgling sound with a giggle. “Why would you ever do that? Every group needs a strong back and a pretty face. It’s good for morale.”
Tav turned to glare at the vampire. “Really? I figured you’d be pleased. You two seem to always pick at each other.”
“Oh darling, that was only sport. Besides, that man would walk through the hells for you at the asking.”
He watched her nose, excited to see it wrinkle in blushing embarrassment but Tav looked almost pained to hear what anyone would want to hear about a lover.
Maybe…
“When did you last eat?” Tav asked, hoping to distract the vampire with food.
Astarion, sensing weakness, pounced. “Oh no you don’t missy, don’t change the subject. Besides, I’m not hungry.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Darling, I’ll have you know I spent a year locked in a coffin and turned out fine more or less,” he answered casually. “Now, just what did happen between you and that bear? Dish girl. Dish.”
“A year?” She asked quietly.
Astarion rolled his eyes, irritated both by the question and the fact he had no one to blame for its asking but himself.
“Yes. Sealed me starving inside a dusty tomb all on my own for an entire year.” He waved his hand to wave away the memory as if it were no great thing. “So half a tenday here or there really isn’t gonna do me in. Besides, I’ve barely noticed.”
“You’re lying. Your eyes are a duller red when you’re hungry.”
In 200 years, Astarion had never seen himself in a mirror –  one of the perks of being a member of the hungering undead. But he knew he possessed certain features. On more than one occasion bards had sang him sonnets of how beautiful he was in excruciating detail. So he knew about his silver hair, pouty lips, and sharp, hawkish features. One singer, apparently not one for exaggeration or self-preservation, had once put his crow’s feet in a verse.
But his eyes as a gauge for how full his belly was? That was new. He laughed genuinely, giddy with the knowledge.
“Are they now?” he said, voice still bubbling with laughter. After 200 years, someone had taught him something new. “Well, I suppose I shall have a drink then. After all, I can’t be seen with such dull red eyes. That won’t do. They must be glittering rubies at all times!”
He sang the last words, imitating those terrible, fawning bards. 
Tav shook her head, a small smile cracking on her face. “Glittering rubies?”
“But of course. The bards used to sing of them all the time. Why? What would you call them?”
Tav thought on this as she rolled up her sleeve offering him her wrist. “I don’t see a gemstone. Too cliche. I’d call them something of real value.”
Astarion casually inspected her wrist for a good place to bite, finding every bit of skin close to the vein littered with poorly or unhealed bite marks. He thumbed the wounds, suddenly ashamed.
“Let’s give your wrist a rest. Besides, I haven’t taken a draught from that delicious neck of yours in a while. Indulge me?”
Tav nodded and began fiddling with her stiff and fussy leather overshirt with a collar that stopped under her chin. She took her time, annoying him. The prospect of drinking from her neck made Astarion impatient.
“Let me,” He pushed her fingers aside to undo the laces himself. “Now go on, what could be more valuable than jewels?”
“Food. You can’t eat rubies. Your eyes are something cool and bitter but tasty. I dunno cranberries maybe? Though, I guess that wouldn’t sound so good in a song, huh?”
“It sounds beautiful to me,” he answered and said no more.
“I’d like to meet this Cazador of yours someday,” Tav said after a few moments of silence.
“Why in great gurgling Chionthar would you want to do that?”
“So I can kill him.”
Astarion’s fingers stilled, the last two laces still done up. “Really?”
“I think he’s more than earned it, don’t you?”
“Oh, very much so,” he croaked, forcing words out of his emotion-thickened throat. Whether or not he was “too late” didn’t matter anymore. She offered him the one thing he wanted. Freely. Without promise or payment. 
It was that easy.
And if that was so easy, as the druid had said, what else could be?
9 notes · View notes
mirabai0821 · 1 month
Text
Blood and Honey WIP excerpt #(-b+-√b^2-4ac) / 2a
Pairings: Tav x Astarion Warnings: none Words: I actually have no idea, sorry. Summary: Astarion has found he's lost the battle for Tav's heart, but, somehow, has won the war anyway.
Astarion hunched over an uncorked but unsampled bottle of wine, overthinking, as Halsin cautioned him not to do, which, of course, made him want to do it more despite all the grief it gave him.
“Some things can be easy if you want them to be,” he groused to himself in his best impression of the druid. “What a load of bullshit.”
Bullshit that consumed him for the better part of a day. Just long enough for him to see Halsin walk out of Tav’s room wearing an unmistakable grin, like the bear that ate the beehive. 
He fell for it. He fell for that load of "we don't have to be enemies" crap and Halsin used it to make his move. The overwhelming feeling of loss scoured his insides to the bone though it was a wholly inappropriate emotion to feel. He wasn’t entitled to loss. Not for what his true designs were, and yet grief sank into flesh heavy as lead. He was surprised to find he could move, could speak.
“I’m too late aren’t I?” He said aloud, having somehow crossed the threshold of Tav’s door.
She startled from her papers. “Oh! Was I supposed to meet you somewhere? I’m sorry, Halsin was here and I lost track of time.”
Astarion chewed the inside of his lip to bleeding. I bet you did. 
“Don’t worry about it darling,” he answered blithely, strangely satisfied to make her feel bad for no reason. Another shining example why he had no claim to sadness. “I’m here now. All’s well.”
“Are you sure?”
“Naturally.”
Feeling a bit of his old, indifferent self return, he strode into her room, shutting the door and perched himself over her shoulder, hovering as close as a moth to lamplight.
“So…Halsin, I take it you two have patched things up?” He could smell the warmth of the druid on her. But try as he might to muster disgust, all he felt was contentment to be so near her again.
“He asked if he could join us, actually,” she said.
“Oh?” He feigned interest. “And what did you say?”
“I told him no at first.”
Astarion almost choked but recovered, smothering the gurgling sound with a giggle. “Why would you ever do that? Every group needs a strong back and a pretty face. It’s good for morale.”
Tav turned to glare at the vampire. “Really? I figured you’d be pleased. You two seem to always pick at each other.”
“Oh darling, that was only sport. Besides, that man would walk through the hells for you at the asking.”
He watched her nose, excited to see it wrinkle in blushing embarrassment but Tav looked almost pained to hear what anyone would want to hear about a lover.
Maybe…
“When did you last eat?” Tav asked, hoping to distract the vampire with food.
Astarion, sensing weakness, pounced. “Oh no you don’t missy, don’t change the subject. Besides, I’m not hungry.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Darling, I’ll have you know I spent a year locked in a coffin and turned out fine more or less,” he answered casually. “Now, just what did happen between you and that bear? Dish girl. Dish.”
“A year?” She asked quietly.
Astarion rolled his eyes, irritated both by the question and the fact he had no one to blame for its asking but himself.
“Yes. Sealed me starving inside a dusty tomb all on my own for an entire year.” He waved his hand to wave away the memory as if it were no great thing. “So half a tenday here or there really isn’t gonna do me in. Besides, I’ve barely noticed.”
“You’re lying. Your eyes are a duller red when you’re hungry.”
In 200 years, Astarion had never seen himself in a mirror –  one of the perks of being a member of the hungering undead. But he knew he possessed certain features. On more than one occasion bards had sang him sonnets of how beautiful he was in excruciating detail. So he knew about his silver hair, pouty lips, and sharp, hawkish features. One singer, apparently not one for exaggeration or self-preservation, had once put his crow’s feet in a verse.
But his eyes as a gauge for how full his belly was? That was new. He laughed genuinely, giddy with the knowledge.
“Are they now?” he said, voice still bubbling with laughter. After 200 years, someone had taught him something new. “Well, I suppose I shall have a drink then. After all, I can’t be seen with such dull red eyes. That won’t do. They must be glittering rubies at all times!”
He sang the last words, imitating those terrible, fawning bards. 
Tav shook her head, a small smile cracking on her face. “Glittering rubies?”
“But of course. The bards used to sing of them all the time. Why? What would you call them?”
Tav thought on this as she rolled up her sleeve offering him her wrist. “I don’t see a gemstone. Too cliche. I’d call them something of real value.”
Astarion casually inspected her wrist for a good place to bite, finding every bit of skin close to the vein littered with poorly or unhealed bite marks. He thumbed the wounds, suddenly ashamed.
“Let’s give your wrist a rest. Besides, I haven’t taken a draught from that delicious neck of yours in a while. Indulge me?”
Tav nodded and began fiddling with her stiff and fussy leather overshirt with a collar that stopped under her chin. She took her time, annoying him. The prospect of drinking from her neck made Astarion impatient.
“Let me,” He pushed her fingers aside to undo the laces himself. “Now go on, what could be more valuable than jewels?”
“Food. You can’t eat rubies. Your eyes are something cool and bitter but tasty. I dunno cranberries maybe? Though, I guess that wouldn’t sound so good in a song, huh?”
“It sounds beautiful to me,” he answered and said no more.
“I’d like to meet this Cazador of yours someday,” Tav said after a few moments of silence.
“Why in great gurgling Chionthar would you want to do that?”
“So I can kill him.”
Astarion’s fingers stilled, the last two laces still done up. “Really?”
“I think he’s more than earned it, don’t you?”
“Oh, very much so,” he croaked, forcing words out of his emotion-thickened throat. Whether or not he was “too late” didn’t matter anymore. She offered him the one thing he wanted. Freely. Without promise or payment. 
It was that easy.
And if that was so easy, as the druid had said, what else could be?
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mirabai0821 · 1 month
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Blood and Honey WIP # IDK my BFF Jill?
Pairings: Tav x Halsin x Astarion Warnings: none Words: 666 (neat!) Summary: Astarion has reservations about using Halsin as an alternate bloodbag. Halsin uses a dirty trick to convince him otherwise.
“Is my blood repulsive somehow?” Halsin teased.
Astarions scoffed. “Blood is blood, even blood from the meanest creature with a circulatory system is glorious compared to mortal food. Though I do miss the simple pleasure of a good steak No. It’s not that. With thinking creatures it’s…easier when I know the other party is getting something out of it.”
Astarion uncharacteristically fidgeted as he answered.
Halsin considered his words carefully. Even now, allied in their common love for Tav, Astarion still kept him at arm’s length. Halsin knew better than to force camaraderie and was content to let the vampire say as much or as little as he liked, which was always as little as possible. He knew that talking this much, this plainly with him took a lot. “What does Tav get out of it then?”
“It’s difficult to say. I don’t know if she’s ever told you much about her past.”
Halsin shook his head.
“Figured as much, it's the same for the rest of us. What we know of her is what she’s shown us so far. Her bravery, her selflessness, her amusing inability to hold her liquor, her strange inability to sing despite being a bard, or her equally strange inability to fight to save her life.”
“But after 200 years of hunting mortals for someone else’s sport, I know her type. She’s indeed a rose as you’re so fond of calling her, one of those exotic, temperamental ones that die if you look at them funny.” Halsin quirked an eyebrow, wracking his considerable knowledge of plants for a rose that behaved thus. Astarion saw his puzzled look and gave him a gently mocking stare as if to say, “It’s a figure of speech, work with me here please.”
“She’s someone who knows just how amazing they are but doesn’t understand why nobody else seems to notice. She won’t, has never, compromised herself even though the loneliness that plagues her is so unbearable. Even though she knows if she was just a little bit different, a little bit less, she could have everything she wants. 
“Once the fear went away, I could see the longing in her eyes that first bite.”
“I see,” Halsin said wisely, softly. “You get to feed, she gets to pretend it’s the embrace of a lover.”
“Precisely. Though I guess she needn’t pretend anymore,” the vampire said fondly, touching a knuckle to her scarred cheek. It really did look like tree branches, or the thorny vines of a rosebush. They made her beautiful, even more than when her flesh was unmarred for the simple fact those scars meant was alive, alive, alive. 
“Which brings me to you,” Astarion continued. “You once scolded me for ‘taking too much’.”
“Astarion, that was…” Halsin sputtered, ashamed that his words, spoken in cruelty, had a lingering sting. But Astarion raised his hands asking gently for silence. 
“I knew what you meant then, darling. And you were right, I did. I don’t want to do that anymore. Take, I mean. Well… at least not from her anyway, or you now, I guess.”
Halsin thought on this deeply, touched by the consideration. “I respect your reasons, Astarion, and will offer no more protestations but…if I may offer a final argument. You are mistaken in that I don’t ‘get’ anything out of this. Even if we weren’t tied in our bonds with Tav, you are a friend, and helping a friend is reward enough for me.”
“Then you have an extremely permissive definition of ‘helping,’ bear.”
“If you hadn’t noticed, I have a pretty permissive definition for most things sometimes to my detriment," Halsin chuckled. “But if the bonds of friendship are not enough to sway you, consider this: Safety issues aside, it would not do for you to be away when she wakes.”
Halsin grinned, keenly aware of what invoking Tav would do to the younger elf.
“Oh you’re a bastard for that one.”
Halsin took another puff of his pipe, smiling serenely.
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mirabai0821 · 1 month
Text
Blood and Honey WIP # IDK my BFF Jill?
Pairings: Tav x Halsin x Astarion Warnings: none Words: 666 (neat!) Summary: Astarion has reservations about using Halsin as an alternate bloodbag. Halsin uses a dirty trick to convince him otherwise.
“Is my blood repulsive somehow?” Halsin teased.
Astarions scoffed. “Blood is blood, even blood from the meanest creature with a circulatory system is glorious compared to mortal food. Though I do miss the simple pleasure of a good steak No. It’s not that. With thinking creatures it’s…easier when I know the other party is getting something out of it.”
Astarion uncharacteristically fidgeted as he answered.
Halsin considered his words carefully. Even now, allied in their common love for Tav, Astarion still kept him at arm’s length. Halsin knew better than to force camaraderie and was content to let the vampire say as much or as little as he liked, which was always as little as possible. He knew that talking this much, this plainly with him took a lot. “What does Tav get out of it then?”
“It’s difficult to say. I don’t know if she’s ever told you much about her past.”
Halsin shook his head.
“Figured as much, it's the same for the rest of us. What we know of her is what she’s shown us so far. Her bravery, her selflessness, her amusing inability to hold her liquor, her strange inability to sing despite being a bard, or her equally strange inability to fight to save her life.”
“But after 200 years of hunting mortals for someone else’s sport, I know her type. She’s indeed a rose as you’re so fond of calling her, one of those exotic, temperamental ones that die if you look at them funny.” Halsin quirked an eyebrow, wracking his considerable knowledge of plants for a rose that behaved thus. Astarion saw his puzzled look and gave him a gently mocking stare as if to say, “It’s a figure of speech, work with me here please.”
“She’s someone who knows just how amazing they are but doesn’t understand why nobody else seems to notice. She won’t, has never, compromised herself even though the loneliness that plagues her is so unbearable. Even though she knows if she was just a little bit different, a little bit less, she could have everything she wants. 
“Once the fear went away, I could see the longing in her eyes that first bite.”
“I see,” Halsin said wisely, softly. “You get to feed, she gets to pretend it’s the embrace of a lover.”
“Precisely. Though I guess she needn’t pretend anymore,” the vampire said fondly, touching a knuckle to her scarred cheek. It really did look like tree branches, or the thorny vines of a rosebush. They made her beautiful, even more than when her flesh was unmarred for the simple fact those scars meant was alive, alive, alive. 
“Which brings me to you,” Astarion continued. “You once scolded me for ‘taking too much’.”
“Astarion, that was…” Halsin sputtered, ashamed that his words, spoken in cruelty, had a lingering sting. But Astarion raised his hands asking gently for silence. 
“I knew what you meant then, darling. And you were right, I did. I don’t want to do that anymore. Take, I mean. Well… at least not from her anyway, or you now, I guess.”
Halsin thought on this deeply, touched by the consideration. “I respect your reasons, Astarion, and will offer no more protestations but…if I may offer a final argument. You are mistaken in that I don’t ‘get’ anything out of this. Even if we weren’t tied in our bonds with Tav, you are a friend, and helping a friend is reward enough for me.”
“Then you have an extremely permissive definition of ‘helping,’ bear.”
“If you hadn’t noticed, I have a pretty permissive definition for most things sometimes to my detriment," Halsin chuckled. “But if the bonds of friendship are not enough to sway you, consider this: Safety issues aside, it would not do for you to be away when she wakes.”
Halsin grinned, keenly aware of what invoking Tav would do to the younger elf.
“Oh you’re a bastard for that one.”
Halsin took another puff of his pipe, smiling serenely.
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mirabai0821 · 1 month
Text
And now, a Tav x Halsin x Astarion moment
Scene: The Guantlet of Shar
Summary: Tav, Shadowheart, Halsin, and Astarion have found the Silent Library. None of our three heroes are in a relationship or have even expressed feelings for each other. Just a lot of longing and lusting. As the party inspects the place, Shadowheart finds the Tome of the Self-Same Trial and the other books related to the Shar's Trials. Once at the Self-Same Trial, Shadowheart comes up with a plan to trivialize the encounter: getting naked.
"Keep your eyes where I can see them, druid," Astarion growls.
Halsin nods solemnly. "While I never understood the preoccupation with covering up what nature has bestwoed, I will naturally respect your right to privacy, Astarion."
The vampire's eyes widen, he hadn't even considered... "I wasn’t talking about me!" He huffs indignantly.
Halsin tilts his head, confused. "So does that mean I can look?"
"Yes! I mean no! I mean…," Astarion gives up in embarrassed frustration. Were he warm-blooded, he would have blushed. "Argh! look where you want. And I'll look where I want. Deal?"
Both heads turn sharply to the left, eyes landing on Tav. Wondrously, magnificently, blessedly naked Tav who is pouring over the trial's tome with Shadowheart, unaware of the two pairs of eyes that have just softened looking at her.
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mirabai0821 · 1 month
Text
As the gentlest reminders, the first chapter of Blood and Honey has been posted on AO3 already.
Read it here.
Blood and Honey Progress Update
(she says as though anyone's paying that close attention)
Blood and Honey is no where near finished. There's still like 5-6 big Moments to get through.
But!
Today The Work Spake saying, "This is its end. From this point go no further (unless it's in a new fic...which it will be)."
So there's like a month (generously) to go before I think I'll be finished with Blood and Honey. I'll post it in intervals (does AO3 let you schedule chapter updates now? because that'd be great) Like a chapter a week. Which will give me (hopefully) enough time to finish part 2 which (as I'm concepting it now but of course subject to change) should be WAY WAY WAY shorter than part 1. Then, good lord willing, we'll start part three which, like BG3, is all Act 3 shit.
And it goes a little something like this:
Blood and Honey: Act 1-2 Unnamed Part 2: A gaiden or more descriptively, the part where there's so much smut and feelings it needs its own self-contained fic to hold it all Unnamed Part 3: Act 3
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