#OC MC | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mochidreambubble · 1 year

Text

Just as if we’re Strangers on a Train

Written for OC x Canon week organised by @theocxcanonweek

Day 6 Prompt:

Touching Foreheads / Sci-Fi AU / “Can you stay? Please…”

Baxter/MC OC fic. Ao3 link here.

“He could laugh. Right now, he wasn’t expected to stay in character. The childhood sweetheart, that wasn’t him. But at this moment, as “Theodore”, wouldn’t it be alright to indulge, even just a little…”

[Of course, it wouldn't be me if I didn't take this as an excuse to write for Our Life www

The title is like, a sort of reference to the whole b/w era of romance movies that always have lovers meet on trains or train stations. I mean, iconic and all so…

Please also don’t think too hard of the “play murder” in this. I’m not very smart and I’m not even going to pretend there is a mystery to solve here lol.

Takes place a little before Baxter Step 4 but is not meant to fit into any canonicity, I really wrote this cause the idea just came to me.]

————-———-««»»———-———-««»»———-———-««»»————-　　

He finds himself freezing up, mouth agape. The couple he’s been hired by is no doubt wondering what the issue is, being silent for longer than a few seconds. Though, maybe they think it’s just him being in character, seeing as how the young woman standing right in front of him is matching him in shock.

There’s a sudden exclamation of shock, from someone Baxter recognises as one of the game masters from the start of this whole event, now costumed up. “Oh my, young lady! Isn’t that the boy from the picture you showed me earlier? Your childhood friend? What a coincidence!”

The shock was slowly draining from the young woman in front of you, a smile now taut and forced plastered on. “Yes, what a crazy coincidence. But it’s been so long that we may as well be strangers,” she steps closer and extends her hand, though in a way that seems like a private parody to Baxter and Baxter alone, echoing his long-forgotten introduction to her. But this wasn’t the tourist beach town of Sunset Bird, but a live-action-themed mystery game with everyone on it stuck on a moving train for the whole duration of the event. “I may as well reintroduce myself. Perhaps I’ve been forgotten after all this time, after all. Nice to meet you, Theodore. I’m Rosalind.”

How could he ever forget her face? Not when her tearful expression was forever seared into his mind. “Oh, Rosa,” His character card for Theodore had mentioned that he too, could never forget his childhood sweetheart. “Of course not! It’s been too long.”

He shakes her hand, trying to maintain his poker face. He’s basically on a job after all. This damn, blasted job.

The couple he had been hired by wanted a themed wedding, see? But a very specific themed wedding, based on the series of mystery live-action games. It was how they first met. The easy way would have been to just Google what the story and themes were about. But the company’s website was vague, and the couple had explained they wanted it to be an exclusive narrative to their players. So, the consummate professional aspiring wedding planner that Baxter Alexander Ward was, said he would attend one himself so he could best get the feel of it. The couple was excited to accompany him, though considering their love of it, he suspects they would have gone to this event anyways.

The theme of this event was a murder on a train. It was an affair across a couple of days, the murder happening once everyone settled in and received their randomly assigned roles. His, a young rich nobleman - Baxter wanted to laugh when he received his card, landing a role from a life he left behind - who had many regrets, prime of all not defying his parents to marry his childhood sweetheart Rosalind.

Rosalind. He truly doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry. Rosalind was here, no childhood ocean boy or any of her friends in sight. Maybe for the best, no doubt they all knew of her heartbreak after he left…

The game master laughs, slapping him and Rosalind on the back. “Ah, always nice to see old friends reunite huh? Now come, let’s all head to the dining cart. Both of you must have lots to catch up on!”

————-———-««»»———-———-««»»———-———-««»»————-　　

They were seated across each other, considering that their characters likely would have wanted to catch up. They weren’t in private, still seated near the other dining cart seats, so they were likely still expected to be in character. So there was a relief, as they spoke back and forth, reciting notes from their character cards. That is, until…

“So, Theo,” The name mocking on her tongue. “I’m surprised to see you alone on this trip. No beau for the season? All here by your lonesome?”

“...I’m here on business, if you must know, dear Rosa. I’m traveling with Hemsworth,” Baxter points to a rather dainty young woman with a moustache plastered on sitting two tables away. The roles were given at random after all, so there were actually quite a few as characters who didn’t necessarily match who they were at all in person. That was one of his clients actually, though currently separated from her girlfriend-now fiancee.

Rosalind hums, focussing back on her food and drink. Baxter couldn’t help himself. Part of him just had to know. Maybe it just felt easier as for all anyone knew, he was asking as Theodore after all. “And you, Rosa? No dashing men with lovely eyebrows or brotherly demeanours have swept you off your feet?”

“...No,” she’s meticulously cutting her steak, refusing to look up at him. “After you left and broke my heart, I don’t think falling in love was ever that easy again.”

He doesn’t know what to say, what he could say. Though he didn’t quite have to, as a young woman slips into the seat next to him - the other lucky woman to be wed, and begins to make small talk to them both. Her role was that of a ditzy heiress it seemed, slightly humorous as Baxter knew the young woman was a rather stern and straightforward lawyer from the times he had met her at his office. He’s infinitely grateful as her presence certainly elevated the tenseness, and Rosalind certainly didn’t stray from her character.

As it turns out, while the player behind Rosalind was here by her lonesome, Rosa herself was with a her uncle, who decided to branch out from academics to art.

There’s an exaggerated squeal from the heiress of what kind of art and lighthearted topic carried all the way till after dessert, when Baxter could finally make his escape.

————-———-««»»———-———-««»»———-———-««»»————-　　

He didn’t expect to get invested in what was going on, purely here as a learning experience of sorts after all. But with every player huddled as close as they can be in the narrow space of the train corridor, almost all in nightwear, peering over the poor fellow facedown in fake blood…

Well, maybe Baxter was a little more invested in this than he let on, now that it seemed that the game had truly begun proper. Fingers were pointed and the yelling of accusations had started.

The murder victim was the academic turned artist who recently came into fortune via a rich client and wanted to work with Hemsworth and Theodore to open a gallery, so the duo playing the investors to said victim was immediately brought into the hot seat. But he and Hemsworth exclaimed they had alibis. It went in circles, from the person sitting next to him at dinner to the one who was mostly quiet throughout this so far.

An attendant insisted they all calm down and return to their rooms. They were still miles away from any kind of authority, so for everyone’s safety they should keep their wits about it. Of course, as players, they had been instructed to investigate in their own time to solve this whodunit, and as to not alert the murderer, they would have to do so discreetly or risk being silenced by the murderer…

As expected, the married couple to be had already decided to pair up, whispering to each other. Baxter was glad they seemed to certainly be enjoying themselves…

“Now why should just let it go when it’s obvious who did it!” A man cries out, jabbing his finger towards Rosalind. “She’s the only one who could have! They’re in the same cabin, you idiots! I say we lock her up in a room now!”

Baxter finds himself speaking up, especially seeing Rosalind wince and take a few paces back in fear when all eyes turn on her. It was fine, wasn’t it? It was totally in character for Theodore to speak up and vouch for her…

“Now, now, my good sir. Didn’t you hear the attendant? He said to best let the authorities handle this, hm?”

“You’re just sticking up for her 'cause you’re sweet on her!”

“...She’s my old friend after all. Now, if it makes you feel better, I’ll stay in the same cabin with her. If I’m dead by sunrise, then you’d be right maybe.”

The fellow gives Baxter the stink eye, before he calls out for a vote - leading to Baxter now being locked in a cabin with Rosalind.

Locked with someone who he was technically in private with… No reason to stay in character…

“Would it be cliche if I say I think the loudest accuser is the murderer? Or who do you think killed my poor uncle?”

“Ah yes, the million dollar question… Considering he was an academic who - from what I heard from every other passenger at least once - he seemed to have met them all at least once. Quite the social butterfly, hm, you uncle?”

She snorts, fully breaking character as she takes out her phone and begins to tap away. The rule was that no phones were out in the open, so at least this was fine…

“Letting your sister know that you’re all fine and dandy?” He recalls how protective her family was in general, her sister demanding that the youngest contact her nightly during their short trip summers ago.

“Cove, actually,” she’s typing away, a smile on her face.

“Ah, so still as tight-knit as ever, then?”

“We’re not conjoined at the hip anymore, especially for stuff like this where he has to potentially be stuck on a train for days with strangers,” she finally halts and tucks her phone away. “Well, back to the matter at hand-”

She launches back into theories on the mystery, shutting the door on any other topics. Baxter doesn’t even attempt to try.

Rosalind’s uncle, as stated, was certainly a man of many connections. He wasn’t particularly grand as an artist, but he cashed in on many favours. Ones with rich and influential members of society were especially prevalent. He had taken Rosalind in, purely to have a hold in her whatever little inheritance her belated parents left her and to use her as a chip in negotiations - it was so easy to tempt many with a pretty girl yet to marry…

“Sounds like you would have a fair bit of motive, Rosa.”

“You think I did it as well then?”

“...No matter what, I’ll do my best to be by your side, Rosa.”

He wishes she would look his way, her eyes fixed to the scenery they were passing by. “Must be easy to say things like this huh, Theo? But promises, promises,” Her voice is shaky. “They’re just words you know? I think actions speak louder.”

“...Then what do you want me to do, Rosa?”

“Maybe you’ll just vanish again after this is all over… But at least, during this trip…”

She turns to him at last, eyes shiny with tears. “Can you stay? Please? Just pretend for me that you’re really just Theo, and don’t leave me alone…”

“...Of course. I promise.”

He could laugh. Right now, he wasn’t expected to stay in character. The childhood sweetheart, that wasn’t him. But at this moment, as Theodore, wouldn’t it be alright to indulge, even just a little…

————-———-««»»———-———-««»»———-———-««»»————-　　

It had been at least over a day since the murder. They were holding a meeting in the dining cart, the majority exclaiming they found evidence of who it was. It would seem the dramatics of the loudest person really were just signs of guilt as a majority were pointing to the man who had adamantly insisted it was Rosa.

“Y-You fools! It ain’t me, I didn’t do it!”

“Oh come on, you’re the only one with the shakiest alibi, and the murder weapon was hidden in your trunk!”

“B…But…!”

There was a chaos of voices. Baxter looks to Rosalind, who had been increasingly silent throughout the day as they snuck around and questioned guests and attendants alike.

Ah. Maybe she figured it out.

“He’s right,” her voice, though softer than the yelling, cut through and silenced everyone. She walked forward, her confidence and stride like a Queen addressing her subjects. It’s no wonder they all turned to listen.

It’s no wonder she caught his eye, to begin with.

“He didn’t do it.”

“Then who did, lass?! You saying you killed him after all?!”

She shook her head, holding her breath, as if contemplating in the last few seconds. “It was…”

Rosalind turns to him. “It was you, wasn’t it Theo?”

————-———-««»»———-———-««»»———-———-««»»————-　　

The story goes that Theodore’s parents, who very much did not approve of the common girl Rosalind, had struck a deal with her uncle. A great sum of money to play a part in a scheme that would pull the lovers apart. Theo would believe she only wanted him for his wealth, and Rosa broken-hearted over a slew of letters of “him” declaring he loathed her.

How unfair, that life pulled them apart.

His parents had passed, not long after Rosalind had left to who knew where with her uncle.

Theo had almost gone mad, upset at them - at himself. So foolish to believe the lies that were fed to him so easily.

He was too ashamed to even look at the letters Rosa has sent him, trying to reconnect…

No matter. His parents dead. The other one at fault would soon be too…

There were horrified gasps on the unfolding scene. Very honestly, mayhaps Baxter was just ever so slightly intrigued when the game master handed him his card at the start. Theodore - the criminal of this plot, with a suitcase of hidden props. So maybe, ever so slightly, he decided to lean into the dramatics. The game masters were still in character, after all, not stopping him.

A “gun” pointed directly at Rosalind, and bitterness in his voice. “Why did you have to ruin everything Rosa? It was almost perfect!”

“What would murdering my uncle solve?! Instead of killing him, you could have just,” Her hands were waved in frustration, she was close to crying in frustration and sadness. “Reached out to me! Explain, said something! I would have listened! Instead, you kept quiet like a coward!”

“I needed to do something to redeem myself… I didn’t know how I could show myself to you again without…”

“I just wanted you to stay,” she had crumpled to the ground, tears falling. “Why do you always have to make yourself out to be a bad guy… You just… Had to stay in touch…”

It really could have been that easy, couldn’t it?

————-———-««»»———-———-««»»———-———-««»»————-　　

“I’m surprised she decided to reveal you!” One of the fiancees laughed. “I mean, sometimes in these games, the villain does get away with it, you know?”

Her other half sighs, peaking over Baxter’s shoulder to read his card. “Rosalind would have gotten a good deal herself too, if you got away with it. All her uncle’s riches would be hers and she'll finally be with the man she loved…”

“It must have simply been a matter of doing the right thing,” Baxter smiles, but his eyes were peeled to the train platform. The ending to their little adventure. But… Rosalind’s player was nowhere to be found.

It was almost ironic, for her to now vanish out of his life despite given a chance meeting. Or, perhaps it was like Rosalind declared…

All Theodore had to do was reach out…

————-———-««»»———-———-««»»———-———-««»»————-　　

He didn’t.

Because Baxter Ward was a coward.

Besides, her number might have changed after all this time.

We were nothing but strangers on a train, he insists. He busies himself, looking at the information on the next client.

A Scott Adam and Jude Eckert.

Huh. He knew an Eckert, once upon a time… Summers ago…

He shakes his head again. Enough of this. All he had to do was focus on work. After all, what were the chances he’d run into her again, after all…

(FIN)

[I planned this fic before writing but as I wrote I think I lost the sauce…. Sobs….

Also pls lemme know if you spot any silly mistakes, tysm ilu]

#not beta read #oc x canon week #oc x canon week 2023 #oc x canon #my fic #my writing #our life beginnings & always #baxter ward #jamie last #oc mc

16 notes · View notes

blankdblank · 2 months

Text

Curious what people might like to see in the next new chapter of the 1950’s as the world comes to realize Mutants exist.

#james Howlett #Victor creed #Eddie Brock #venom #oc mc #polls #long fic #marvel #mutants #xmen

2 notes · View notes

xx-bc13-w0nt-d13-xx · 8 months

Text

Cant sleep so i drew the best boy: flustered sweaty otaku

im still not over that whole look from levi so I wanted to draw it on alph

#theres a reason he'd be skipped over in the exchange program for mc #would 100% pull shit like this #also i watched a lot of frat boy tiktoks so ofc we had to get that look down #obey me fanart #obey me swd #obey me leviathan #obey me #oc mc

6 notes · View notes

v3r0k4 · 9 months

Text

Hehe madness combat oc

#save inside job #shitpost #art #artwork #oc mc #madness combat

4 notes · View notes

cheekylittlepupp · 4 months

Text

The infamous leg hook

Ahh, why does Larian have to hide the angle from us...

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 clip #astarion romance #mims posts ~#bg3 video #astarion x durge #astarion x mc #oc: mira #baldurs gate 3 #this man is so smooth with it...#astarion x tav #baldur's gate astarion

15K notes · View notes

cheesy-cryptid · 8 months

Text

Love bite 🍷🍷🍷

13K notes · View notes

rizdoodls · 16 days

Text

The prefect was lucky not to end up propelled into the air...

3K notes · View notes

zariyen · 3 months

Text

been working on some online shop stuff in my spare time, drew a quick rkgk of yuu and grim as little delivery guys to use for my thank you cards 🥺 i'll put these in orders that include twst related items 🥰🥰

#my art #za draws twst #twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twst mc #yuu #ユウ #ツイステ #ツイステッドワンダーランド #za's ocs #grim #グリム #shop announcement

4K notes · View notes

kpop-otome-yandere-here · 5 months

Text

Mc: Hey, dumb slut, get over here.

Mammon, sighing: Okay-

Asmo: I'm coming!

Mammon, confused: I thought... I was dumb slut...

4K notes · View notes

breadcheese444 · 4 months

Text

The Nightmare before Christmas

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #twst yuu #twisted wonderland yuu #twst mc #twisted wonderland mc #twst yume #twisted wonderland yume #my commission #malleyuu #malleus x yuu #malleus x oc #malleus x reader #malleus x lily #mallily

4K notes · View notes

mochidreambubble · 11 months

Text

Seeking the surface in which I will be Reflected

[Written for the Baxter DLC release (which is now his birthday date so Happy Birthday Baxter!)

Pre Step 3 Baxter route.

A prelude in the buildup to what's meant to be something temporary (as it should be, according to Baxter).] Ao3 link here.

[Things to note: this is mainly pre-step 3 Baxter route. And some just in case FYIs:

(1) Baxter was from Golden Grove,

(2) he had a crush on Qiu that died down as he got older

(3) This also uses the Soiree moment, the choices being that MC went alone, met Baxter at the event and danced with him

Annnnnnd that’s all you need to know I think!

Cheers, Happy Baxter DLC release day~ AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY BAXTER WARD!!~~]

🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦

Baxter at the age of 13, thinks himself maybe a little profound. He likens Autumn to the Sun. Not just his Sun, as the youth dazzles and welcomes all in his warmth. But that was fine with Baxter as Qiu was untouchable as the actual sun was. Seen and willing to shine down a friendly glow to any and all.

He was lucky. Autumn had counted him and Darren among his close friends, and in turn, Baxter found himself shining as well. Though not quite like Qiu themselves. He was more like the moon, using whatever rays Qiu gave him. It was only natural, as Baxter couldn’t glow like his best friend could. The things people know him for - the money, the fancy house, his many toys - weren’t because of him but rather the family he happened to be in.

So Autumn, despite his openness to all, was important to Baxter. He was seen by the most popular kid in Golden Grove, and Baxter would cherish that notion.

But he couldn’t, wouldn't, be selfish. He makes sure to make time for himself so Autumn wouldn’t be smothered. Like when Baxter, for the briefest of seconds, decides on switching to ballet despite already being a few years into ballroom dance bites down the urge. It was fine. Ballroom suited him better anyways, right? Made sense for a hoity-toity rich boy to pick that.

But things change, and Baxter who was taking, with nothing to give…

Well, he was bound to lose meaning in their little trio. That becomes most apparent when a little but sturdy spout of a girl and an adventuring whirlwind of a new kid enter Autum's life. Qiu found the new kid pretty and said for a change, he was the one being looked out for.

Oh .

Baxter was starting to see it…

🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦

Baxter was as bored as any other 14-year-old would be at a party he doesn’t particularly care for. Once related matters to the current dance circuit ended, your parents insisted to remain a little while longer for a party of sorts. At least it was a change of scenery, a country club in California. It wasn’t all that far away, next state over from Oregon and all that, but he wouldn’t complain. He couldn’t kick up a fuss about it even if he wanted to anyways, be it about how bored or how short of a trip it was, as his mother would be cross if she spots him moping about. Though he’s not sure she’s paying much attention to him at the moment.

He briefly wishes Qiu were here with him so he wouldn’t be so bored by himself. Every other kid around his age seemed to be as stuffy or as predictable a person from a glance. Though in bitter reflection, perhaps he shouldn’t be one to talk, as he himself rested on the laurels of his parents.

He excuses himself from a bland conversation about where the other teens had been planning to fly for the holidays ( Milan, Paris, Tokyo, bleugh who cares ), especially since they all seemed flabbergasted when Baxter said he mainly travelled if there was a dancing competition or to a cozy lodge his mother quite liked.

As luck would have it, just a short walk away he notices there’s a completely separate event on the other side of the country club. Members' Annual Summer Soiree states one of the arch banners. No one stops him as he walks in, his confidence and stride claiming as if it was perfectly normal that he was there.

He noticed there were more kids on this side, though not many had made their one to the dance floor. One cluster catches his eye, as the small gathering of teens burst into laughter. At the center of it all..

Oh .

There was just something about the young teen that held the group’s attention, his eyes sparkling and gestures animated - almost theatrical. Baxter wasn’t close enough to hear what he was saying but felt tranced by their movements all the same.

He watched till the small group dispersed and the teen boy started to scan the dance floor. Baxter decided to make his move. After all, what harm could dancing with another teen do? It’s not as if there was a chance they would ever meet after this night. It could be like a fairy tale.

And just maybe, he could make a lasting impression that way…

He would like to believe so, as they kept their eyes glued to him the whole dance, shimmering in excitement and elation. By the end of the song as they part and he slipped back into the crowd, he liked to imagine he left the other teen breathless.

🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦

Baxter is 19, and thinks he’s behaving just as any rebellious son would be by ignoring his mother’s texts as they blow up his phone. She was perhaps just a tad upset that he refused to return to Golden Grove for the summer. But honestly now, who was even waiting for him back there anyways? And it wasn’t as if his parents themselves would be spending their summer in that little town, a list of galas and parties were on their agenda. As stated they would be according to their shared family planner.

She was probably more upset she couldn’t accessorise her son to the events with her anyways. Given enough time, and if she bought enough things on those trips, she would likely cool off.

His father had fewer qualms with his plans, agreeing to help him rent out a condo in his choice of destination.

He exits the taxi to his temporary home for the summer, a condo in a beach town in California. It takes no less than a second for him to be delighted, confirming for him that it was a fantastic decision to spend his summer here.

By the sidewalk were two very pretty teens, the taller with the most eye-catching hair of sea glass, and the one next to him…

Oh .

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but the young lady with rather nice legs and bright eyes was familiar to him somehow. Odd, as he’d like to think he was rather good at memorising faces - it would be a mess if he had a fling or one-night stand with the same person after all.

The young woman straightens her sundress and grabs hold of her companion as Baxter grabs his things, the taller fellow looking rather reluctant to approach but unable to refuse the whim of his female companion.

Well now .

It would certainly be an eventful summer indeed, if he had the companionship of either of his new temporary neighbours. Besides, what harm could it be for him to enjoy himself a little in a place he’d never return to anyways?

(fin)

🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦⬩🞘🞘⬩✦

final notes: And then the Baxter route happens lol. Anyways go forth and play it if you haven’t and if you already did, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT AS MUCH AS I DID AND GAVE BAXTER ALL THE RATSHAKES (lovingly) HE DESERVED-

#oc x canon #my fic #my writing #our life beginnings & always #baxter ward #jamie last #oc mc

12 notes · View notes

maatdraws · 5 months

Text

Astarion wording his needs.

#astarion #bg3 #bg3 tav #fanart #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarek #bg3 astarion #bg3 oc #bg3 mc #iorek #myart #thank you for reading 🧡

4K notes · View notes

daveth-isnt-dead · 7 months

Text

Restlessness

Summary:

She usually only lets Astarion feed on her while she is asleep. Not that she has any problem with Astarion, the case just is that him feeding from her while she is still conscious is profoundly intimate and she can’t really be sure if Astarion has noticed or even if he particularly cares, about how quickly her heart races when he does it. So while she is asleep is better, it's much better. But she can't get to sleep tonight, so she is just going to have to make do.

Contains: Fem Unnamed Tav, Explicit Sexual Content, Blood stuff (comes with the territory) Word Count: 5,143 Read on AO3

Astarion has been feeding on her almost every night for the past month now. Most nights while she is still asleep, though he is always surprisingly insistent about obtaining direct consent before she moves to her tent for the evening, by this point she has just assumed that the agreement is mutual and that there is little need for him to keep asking. Though she doesn't have it in her to be upset about the courtesy.

She generally prefers that he drinks while she is sleeping, only knowing that it happened when she wakes up the next morning with a dull throb in her neck and Astarion giving her a knowing smirk from across the camp.

Not that she has any problem with Astarion, the case just is that him feeding from her while she is still conscious is profoundly intimate and she can’t really be sure if Astarion has noticed or even if he particularly cares, about how quickly her heart races when he does it. So while she is asleep is better, it's much better.

Being the vampire’s resident midnight snack does occasionally earn her some uncomfortable looks from other members of their little group. Especially after one of the few nights she had been awake for the ordeal and the feeling of his hand moving to her hip caused her body to jolt so intensely that Astarion accidentally tore her throat up with his fangs. Shadowheart dutifully healed it, but gave her a stare so oppressive that even a slight uptick of the half-elf’s judgemental eyebrow would surely have killed her on the spot.

Astarion did apologize, but then quickly switched to insisting that she needed to let him know next time she decided to experiment with interpretive dance while he was firmly latched to her throat.

That was the night they both agreed, it might be better if he only feeds while she is out cold.

This night, however. Sleep will not come. She knows that it has been nearly a day and a half since Astarion has last eaten, any and all the fighting that took place today in the dark remains of Shar’s gauntlet were against foes severely lacking in the blood department, and tomorrow will likely be the same. To be honest, they were lucky at all, to find somewhere safe and quiet enough to camp in this miserable place.

She rubs her eyes, still sitting upright in her tent despite all efforts to lull herself to sleep. She sighs heavily, tucking her knees up and wrapping her arms around them, usually a long day like this tires her out completely, and she is a very heavy sleeper, but today’s journey has left her so exhausted that even sleep evades her.

The rustling of her tent flap nearly has her topping over with shock, hardly expecting any visitors after the terrible day they had all endured. The realization hits her when Astarion climbs in.

“Oh.” He says, freezing halfway into the tent, “Apologies, you are not usually so…well, conscious, at this time of night.” She had agreed to him feeding on her again this evening, assuming that she would be well asleep by now like usual. She sighs and gives him a wan smile, “Sorry, I can’t sleep.” “I suppose dinner is off the table then, isn't it?” He replies, wearing a smile that seems far tighter than his usual lazy smirk.

“No!” She says quickly, “Gods no, there’s nothing else for you to eat down here and it’s been almost two days.” Astarion frowns, suddenly becoming very interested in his fingernails, “I can always go back to eating rats if I must, there is certainly no lack of them in this miserable place.” He tries to maintain a casual air, but there is venom behind those words. His voice does return to being playful when he says, “Or, should the situation become incredibly dire, I’m sure that our resident hero would let me have a bite if I asked very nicely.” For some reason, the thought of Astarion feeding on Wyll instead of her causes a thick cloud of jealousy to build behind her ribs. She ignores it, “Just come inside, we’ll figure something out.” she says, shuffling backward a little to give him more room, “And close the front of the tent, please.”

When he turns back to her and takes a seat on the hard ground, she can’t help but notice just how etherial he looks in the soft orange glow of her lantern. Even on the nights when she does sleep, she prefers to keep the lantern on, both because the darkness makes her uneasy, and because (even though she knows he can see in the dark) it feels like common courtesy to leave a light on for Astarion.

“So.” He says

“So…” she replies

Astarion sighs, “Look, darling. If you are simply too delicate for me to have my meal while you are awake, I’m sure that I can find a way to occupy myself for now.” He levels his gaze with her, “Something more entertaining than just staring at each other.”

She bristles, “I’m not delicate, I’m just-” she can’t finish the sentence. She’s just what? Too shy, embarrassed maybe, certainly nervous, “I’m fidgety.” she lies, “and I don’t want to cause another…incident.” He laughs, “Oh yes, not willing to suffer another of Shadowheart’s glares, are you?” “No.” She begins, averting her eyes as she feels her cheeks burning, “Not at present.”

“Then what do you suggest? Since you don’t seem to be planning on getting your beauty sleep anytime soon.” She chews on a knuckle, mulling it over. There’s no way she could handle him leaning over her like that again, his scent surrounding her, one of his hands cradling the back of her head as he finally sinks his teeth into the side of her-

“It might be better, if i’m sitting upright.” She offers. Astarion blinks, “Upright?” “Maybe. I think.”

It would at the very least, be far less intimate, more clinical. Astarion hums to himself, “As you know, i don’t have all that much experience in the matter, but i can hardly see how you would expect to stay upright and the last thing we need is you cracking your skull open on the ground.”

“Then I would just need something to lean against.” She says quickly, “I just think I would be far better at sitting still this way, that's all.”

“Well, I’m right here, darling.” He says, almost dismissively, upset that she wouldn’t consider it herself, “You could always lean against me.”

Her eyes widen. That would defeat the purpose of this whole exercise, but she can’t very well tell him that.

“As long as it wouldn’t make things more difficult for you.” She begins, choosing her words slowly and carefully, “I would at least be happy to try.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” He says, leaning backward a little and letting his thighs fall open, “The last thing this could possibly be for me is difficult.” She stares down at him, eyes wide as she realizes that she has only managed to make this situation worse.

“Oh….kay” She says, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. In the end she opts to face away from him, sitting cross legged between his legs and shimmying backward until she feels his chest pressed up against her back. She sucks a difficult breath in through her teeth and though he isn’t warm, he might as well be, the way she immediately breaks out in a nervous sweat.

“Come come, my dear.” He says, his tone hushed as he carefully draws her hair away from her throat, “I’ve had plenty of time to practice being gentle all those nights you were asleep, no need to be so nervous.” She’s more than a little embarrassed at how instinctively she tilts her head to the side for him, almost beckoning him to bite down. It’s not that part that makes her nervous, not at all. It’s that she recalls a conversation, brief and quickly dismissed, that the two had by a campfire many nights ago. A mention of disgust, words spat like bile about the man who forced him to use himself night after night. A disgust of her own, when she remembered how many days she’d spend staring at him, nights under his body as he fed, wishing and wanting for him to touch her.

She had been far too forward that night, prodding where she shouldn't. Astarion had just laughed, dismissed her concern and refused to elaborate.

“I trust you.” She whispers when she feels the ghost of his breath on her neck.

Astarion tenses behind her, and she closes her eyes as he descends, waiting for the bite that never comes. His lips press against the side of her throat, softly, lightly, the way a lover might kiss. She gasps aloud, and quickly covers her mouth with a hand, trying to hide the sound.

One of his hands wraps around hers, gently removing it from her mouth, “No.” he says, pressing another kiss to the cut of her jaw, “Let me hear you.”

A whimper climbs its way up her throat when he wraps a possessive arm around her, his thumb gently brushing across the lower swell of her breast. She feels his teeth against her neck, not biting, gentle and tantalizing.

This is what she had been afraid of, that she would encourage something like this and then lack the restraint to tell him no. Her head inclines backwards, resting on his shoulder and releasing a keening moan when he sucks on her pulsepoint.

“Astarion-” she tries, breaking off into a moan when he slides his hand up and squeezes her breast in his palm.

He chuckles against her throat, “I do so love hearing you say my name like that.” he croons into her ear, his hand sliding down the collar of her loose linen shirt to cup her breast directly, “Say it again for me, would you?”

“W-Wait, please” She forces out, trying to ignore the growing warmth between her thighs, and the cool press of his palm against her breast.

At her words, Astarion freezes completely. She can barely even feel him breathing anymore.

“Yes, of course.” He says quickly, too quickly, there’s something that sounds like panic in his voice, “I- well, I hope i didn’t misread the situation.” “No! That’s- that’s not what I meant, it’s just-” She reaches her hand up backwards until she finds his face, cupping his cheek in her palm, “Astarion…you don’t have to if-“ if you don’t want to, if it doesn’t mean anything, if it hurts too much, or Gods forbid if you think you owe me something.

He stays still for long enough that she begins to worry she said something wrong, that she overstepped a boundary and he was just going to laugh dismissively again. Instead, he turns his head so he can lightly kiss the palm of her hand.

“I know.” He breathes, and it somehow soothes all her worries at once, “I know I don’t have to, but I do want to.” She can almost hear his smile when he says, “That is, of course, provided that you don’t want me to stop.”

“Gods no…” she exhales, leaning back against him, “That’s the last thing I want.”

“Good.” He nearly moans, his hand jumping to the laces at the front of her shirt and quickly undoing them until it hangs wide open all the way down to her sternum. It surprises her a moment, how familiar he seems with undoing her clothes, but then she remembers each morning, waking up with a bite at the join between her shoulder and neck. A courtesy, so none of the others would see it, but he would only be able to reach that low by loosening her shirt.

She feels herself growing warm at the thought, smirking when she asks, “You’ve undressed me before, have you?”

Astarion huffs, licking a stripe up the side of her neck, “Nothing more than was necessary to get at your shoulder, darling.” his cold hands grab both her breasts at once, and he groans, “I was trying to save you from any judgemental stares.”

Her head lolls backward and she moves her hand to his hair, tangling her fingers in tight. His hands are cold against her bare skin, but she is already so warm all over that any reprieve from the heat is a welcome one.

“Is this why you could never sit still while I was feeding on you?” Astarion breathes, one of his hands sliding down the front of her torso to rub over the front of her woolen breeches, “Because you couldn’t stop imaging this?” his hand slips beneath her breeches and into her smalls, “Gods…” he hisses through his teeth, “You’re so wet and I’ve barely even touched you.”

“Don’t act so coy.” She replies, gasping aloud when his talented fingers dip inside her just enough that she is quivering in anticipation for more, and when his thumb reaches up to circle her clit, she whimpers desperately, “You have all the clarification you need right here.”

“Do I?” He asks slowly, fully removing his fingers from her cunt and resting his hand on her hip, “What if I want to hear you admit it?”

She whines, missing his touch already, “Please…” “No no no, you know what you have to do.” He murmurs, breath ghosting across her neck as he presses another kiss to her skin, “You did lie to me about it earlier, don’t I deserve to hear the truth from your delectable lips?” “F-Fine.” She mutters, shame dissolving into something far more sinful as she finally confesses what she is certain he already knew, “The real reason I asked you to only feed while I was asleep, was because I-” his free hand joins the other on her hips, slowly edging her breeches and smalls down over her thighs, “Because I didn’t think I could control myself.”

He laughs warmly against her skin, fingers just barely skirting around the thatch of hair at the apex of her thighs, “My my, with talk like that, you’d think that it is I who should be afraid of you.”

“Maybe you should.” She says, trying and failing to maintain a casual air even as his fingers slowly descend, “After all, who knows that I might- nhg!” “Hm? Sorry, what was that?” Astarion asks, two of his fingers now knuckle deep inside of her.

“I’m h-hardly in a state to offer much witty banter, Astarion.” She stammers, barely even able to speak as his fingers start moving, slow and precise, like he is savoring it.

“But I do so love when you try.” He smiles against her neck, a third finger easily wriggling in alongside the other two. She goes practically boneless against him, unable to keep her hips still as he curls his fingers upward just right and when his thumb teases another utterly devious circle around her clit she feels herself tightening around his fingers. Astarion groans, hiding his face in her shoulder and grinding himself against her lower back, “Hells, darling, you are perfect.”

One of her hands moves to his thigh, struggling to find purchase as she completely loses herself to the pleasure. If the full weight of her body essentially collapsed against him gives Astarion pause, he doesn’t show it, his fingers never falter. The pace he maintains is utterly languid, slow and warm and wet, fast enough that she wouldn’t call it teasing but like he wants to work for it, to enjoy the luxury of taking his time with her.

She moans when his other hand returns to her breast, rubbing addictive circles around her nipple with his thumb. Everything starts to turn hazy at the edges, her body is twitching and desperate.

“Gods…” She hisses through her teeth. Astarion chuckles against her throat, “Come now, darling. There’s only one god here.” she feels the light graze of his sharp teeth, “and he’d much prefer you call him by his name.” “Astarion…” she tries, “Please.” He exhales a shaky breath, but otherwise maintains his composure, “Please what, my sweet?”

She’s on the exhilarating precipice of her climax, barely even able to speak, her body feels so hot that Astarion’s hands nearly burn in their coolness and she can scarcely imagine a world where she doesnt have them pressed against her. Whimpering and mewling under his touch and so unsure of what it is she even wants until: “Bite me!” comes bursting out from her mouth.

Astarion chokes on a breath, and she feels the soft lick of her tongue over his pulsepoint, “Are you sure?” “Yes!” She hisses, practicaly fucking herself on his fingers now, “Gods yes.” She feels more than hears the rumble of his moan, “Do try to stay still.” he purrs, and then sinks his fangs into her throat. The immediate pain feels almost electric jumping from her throat, to her fingertips, to her toes, a quick sharp jolt that is near instantly replaced with a nauseating bliss.

Her head lolls to the side, relishing in the feeling as he begins devouring her. The beat of her heart is loud in her ears, and the pump of his fingers is no longer so tender, with each movement his thumb brushes firmly against her clit and her whole body tenses. He curls his fingers upward, and her hips cant forward violently.

Unlike last time, Astarion is quick to pull his fangs from her throat, before any real damage can occur, “You really can’t sit still, can you?” He groans in her ear, his voice void of any of its usual musicality as he grinds himself up against her in time with his fingers. A bubbling laugh escapes her mouth as she revels in the feeling of his length pressed firmly against her lower back, at the way his own hips don’t seem to want to stop moving, “N-Neither can you.” she says through her moans. “What can I say?” He murmurs, mouth slowly returning to the open wound on her neck, “You are positively delicious.” He does not bite again, instead lapping and sucking at the blood as it flows freely out of her. She can barely breathe, lost in utter exhilaration as the lightheadedness takes hold, his fingers curl and thrust inside of her, skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat as she finds herself completely unable to hold back her whimpers and moans.

Astarion completely covers the bite mark with his mouth, sucking with true fervor now as she teeters closer and closer to her climax. Her eyes squeeze shut, and she frantically grinds herself against his awaiting fingers, the warmth builds and builds in her belly until she feels like she is about to turn to lightning in his arms.

“A-Astarion, I-” Her words collapse into a desperate, aching moan as she tumbles over the edge, the world turning white behind her eyes and the heat rushing out from her core all the way to her fingertips. The euphoria is so encompassing that she nearly sobs as his fingers begin to slow their movements within her.

He has the sense not to say anything, at least for a moment, and she can scarcely imagine how she looks right now. Her hair clings to her forehead with sweat, tears are beading in her eyes and- oh gods had she been drooling? She quickly raises a hand to wipe her mouth, and as she is doing so, she turns her head to look at him and oh.

Astarion blinks down at her, and the look in his eyes is heady and lust drunk, but there is something else to it as well, bordering on reverence. His cheeks are flushed, and she knows that can only happen when he has just fed. She swallows thickly at the red colouring of his lips, where her own blood is currently spread. Curiosity does something sinister to her, and she wants to taste it herself.

His eyes go wide when she kisses him, and wider again when she darts out her tongue lick over his teeth. Astarion’s chest is heaving when she pulls back, his red eyes watching cautiously, as though unsure of her next move. She reaches out and takes his cheek in her palm, his skin is warmer than it was before.

“Your turn.” She whispers, trailing her hand from his cheek, down his sternum to the waistband of his breeches. She looks up at him quickly and is emboldened by the desire she still sees in his eyes, untucking his shirt and pulling it up over his head. He’s all perfect, smooth, porcelain skin, but her eyes can’t help being drawn to the way her rough undressing has left his hair disheveled. She tangles her fingers in it, smiling at how boyishly handsome he looks with his hair in disarray.

“If it’s all the same to you, my dear.” He breathes, beginning to sound impatient, “I’ve waited for you long enough.” She laughs, edging his breeches and undergarments down over his hips, “So impatient for someone with your lifespan.”

He frowns at her, but she is surprised to find how easily she can tell he doesn’t mean it, “If anything, that should speak to just how much I crave you.” He croons as she swings one leg over his hips, hoving just over his lap, “You should be flattered.” “I am.” She replies with not a hint of irony, “I consider myself incredibly lucky.” Astarion reaches up to her face and tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “As do I.”

She wraps her arms around his shoulders to steady herself as she slowly lowers herself down, stutting a gasp when the head of his cock meets her entrance. It’s as cold as the rest of him, and she has to bite down on her lower lip to keep herself from crying out when she takes in the first inch. She’s still incredibly sensitive from her first climax, and the coolness of him feels so alien and utterly addictive that she is already panting and whimpering by the time he bottoms out inside of her.

Astarion lets out a shaky moan when she finally sits down fully, his hands jumping to her waist and his head falling to rest on her shoulder. They stay like that for a moment, just clinging to each other, no sounds but their breathing and the rapid tattoo of her heart.

When he looks up at her again, Astarion’s smile is utterly salacious, “You have me now, darling.” he whispers, pressing a cool kiss to her shoulder, “Perhaps it would the perfect moment for you to show me some of those, things you have been thinking about doing to me all this time.”

Astarion isn’t usually that much taller than her, but even still, there is something addictive about their current positioning and the way he has to peer up at her. She tilts her head to the side, taking in the sight of him, his blood flushed cheeks and the glint of his teeth behind his wide smile.

“Would it be…strange-” she begins, tangling one of her hands in the back of his hair, “-If said that i had often imagined biting you.” “Hah!” Astarion exclaims, grinning broadly, “Well, it would be hardly fair for me to ask you to keep your teeth to yourself, wouldn’t it?” Her brows pull together, “You can say no, Astarion.” His eyes go wide for a moment, and his face is awash with a sudden vulnerability, “I- Yes, I know that I can.” His smile returns, but now the look in his eyes is warmer, softer, “But I don’t want to.” He inclines his head to the side, exposing the length of his throat, “Go on, darling. Let me know how I taste, would you?”

She leans into his neck, breathing in his scent as she presses a soft kiss to his skin. He makes a noise, a startled intake of breath, his hands on her waist gripping tighter and she opens her mouth and bites. Astarion cries out, and his hips stutter his cock deeper inside of her. She moans against his skin, grinding her hips down to meet his and languishing in the feeling of just how well he fills her.

Her teeth are far blunter than his, and actually drawing any blood would take a considerable amount of force and cause a considerable amount of pain, but even without the taste of blood in her mouth there is still something so delectably perverse about biting down on him, about burying her face in his throat. She moans, kissing from the base of his neck and up to the curve of his jaw, sucking gently on the skin there and smiling when she pulls away to see purple marks blooming on his pale skin.

Astarion’s breath is heavy when he looks at her, but his eyes are soft and relaxed, “Admiring your handiwork, are you?” He laughs a little, peering up at her coquettishly, “Does it suit me?” She traces a finger over the crescent shaped bruises left by her teeth, smiling at him as she whispers, “Very much so, and now I believe we are even.” “Are we now?” Astarion replies, a mischievous look crossing his face as his hands move down to her hips, “Because as far as I can recall, only one of us has seen stars this evening.”

“We’ll need to rectify this situation then, won’t we?” She says, her breath quickening as she grinds down on him.

Astarion’s grip on her hips grows tighter and he chokes on a groan, “You look beautiful up there, my dear.” he thrusts up into her, slowly and deeply, “Sitting pretty on my lap, just for me.”

Her head lolls forward, whining as his cock brushes against that perfect spot inside of her.

“Look at me.” Astarion whispers, and she tilts her head up to meet his eyes. His breath stutters when he sees her expression, desperate and adoring, “I want to see your face as I’m fucking you, darling.” She giggles shyly, resisting the urge to hide her face in her hands and Astarion smiles, “Good girl.”

He uses the grip on her hips to lift her up and she whimpers as his cock leaves her, only to cry out when he drops her back down. Shifting her weight to her knees, she follows his lead bouncing on his cock to meet him on the upstroke. He never breaks eye contact, staring as her breath leaves her, watching reverently as she pants and moans with each of his movements.

“A-Astarion…” She moans, leaning forward and pressing her forehead to his, “You’re so good, you feel so good.”

He laughs breathlessly, “Would you believe that you feel even better?”

One of his hands moves from her hip around to her front, his talented fingers rubbing encouraging circles on her clit. She keens loudly, digging her nails into his shoulders, “Didn’t I say it was your turn.” She forces out, “You really don’t have-” “You greatly underestimate just how much making you climax arouses me, my sweet.” He groans when he rubs her a little faster, feeling her walls clench around him in response, “I have been thinking about it, constantly.”

She can feel her orgasm building again, the combination of his fingers and his cock driving her absolutely wild. He’s so warm now, her own growing heat slowly warming his cold skin over time, she wants to grab onto him and never let go. His hips are losing rhythm beneath her, driving his cock up into her with short, stuttered thrusts. Gods she can feel him throbbing.

“I’m-I’m close again.” She breathes.

He groans at even the thought of it, “Good. So am I.”

“Fill me, Gods, Astarion- please” She moans, tightening her arms around his shoulders, pressing him flush against her.

His own arms wrap tightly around her waist as he fucks up into her at an utterly desperate speed. His breath coming quick and fast, he buries his face in her shoulder, mouthing at the side of her neck, waiting as always, for her permission.

“Fuck! Yes, Please, bite me!” She cries out, feeling the warmth of her oncoming climax already blooming in her belly, “Gods, Astarion, I am all yours.” His breath hitches at that, the frantic movement of his hips stopping for only a moment, “Mine…” he breathes, and then sinks his fangs into the side of her throat. She can barely comprehend what she is feeling, him all around her, inside her in more ways than one. She’s open, vulnerable, yearning and Astarion is all she ever wanted.

Her second climax of the night is louder, twitchier, her whole body quivers as it feels like she is shoved over the precipice, her insides clenching desperately around him and her hands digging into his hair as she howls into the open air.

“H-Hells!” He stammers at the feeling of her coming undone around him, clutching to her as tightly as he can before emptying inside of her.

There’s warmth, for some time, as the two of them return from the white hot afterglow. She gently runs her fingers through his hair, and Astarion softly laps at any of the mess left on the side of her neck before kissing tenderly over the bite mark left behind.

“Would you stay?” She whispers, hiding her face in his shoulder, nervous for his answer.

Astarion chuckles, “Are you that insatiable, my dear? Can’t get enough?” She shakes her head, “No, I mean it. Stay with me until morning, we can talk, or sleep, I don't mind.” His breath is shaky now, and one of her hands comes up to rest on the back of her head, “I don’t really know what we are doing.” he breathes, “But I’d like to try, with you.” She sits up a little, meeting his eyes. There is apprehension there, yes, but more than that there is something warm and real. She smiles, “I guess we’ll have to figure it out together.”

His smile is lopsided and effortless, “Though I’m sure Shadowheart will have something entertaining to say, come morning.”

She laughs, “I’ll have to get used to withstanding her glare, I think, as I plan to make, well, whatever this is, a regular occurrence.”

Neither of them feels a need to define what they are feeling, or even what comes next. But she smiles when Astarion presses a kiss to her temple, and decides that for now, it hardly matters. They’ll figure it out eventually.

#astarion #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion ancunin

5K notes · View notes