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chemical-killjoy · 5 months

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Eternally Yours

Chris Motionless x Female Reader

Warnings: smut

Word count: 4.4k O_O

Summary: Basically a fanfic of the eternally yours music video, if the reader was the girl in the video

Author's Note: I know I have a bunch of asks, and I'm getting to them, I swear, but I finally finished this after like, 4 months... so... ta da?

It was tough watching the love of your life, your best friend, getting it on with someone you hate. But you soothed yourself with the fact that it was all for the cameras.

Motionless in White were shooting the music video for their new song 'eternally yours', and being his best friend, Chris jumped to have you on the project. You were one of the best light technicians after all... Plus it was fun to work with you. Chris wouldn't admit it, but he missed you.

And while working with Chris was always fun, having a tall, skinny, blonde model (who thought she was God's gift to the world) making out with him... it didn't exactly help your self esteem. He was perfect. So was she. Why would he ever like you? He'd never go for someone like you when he could have Chloe.

Speak of the devil, you thought, as Chloe sauntered up to you.

“Y/N, I need my skinny mocha.” She demanded.

“I do lights?” You said, frustrated and waiting for her to understand.

“And I'm needed on camera. Hurry up.” The blonde walked away before you could argue.

You rolled your eyes and mentally cursed her. Then you heard a thump and a scream.

“No! My ankle!!” Chloe was on the floor, screaming over a mildly twisted ankle and performing the tantrum of her life. “I can't do this stupid job, I deserve better!”

And that was the fastest working karma you'd ever seen... It also came back to bite you on the ass.

“What?! Me? There's no way. I am NOT that pretty, or seductive, I can't do it!” You begged.

“Come on Y/N, please. There's no one else to do it, and you look perfect for the part! Please, we need this video shot by the end of the day, you know that. Plus, there's no one I'd be more comfortable with.” Chris begged you to step in.

“I don't know.”

Chris smiled at you with pleading eyes and you knew you were done.

“Fine. But I'm going to need hair and makeup.”

You looked in the mirror. The reflection you saw, you hated. It wasn't some succubus, it was gross. You hated seeing yourself in such a small outfit. You were too insecure, what were you thinking agreeing to this?! Plus, you'd have to actually kiss Chris. While you desperately wanted to, did you really want it to all be fake? What if it makes things awkward? You were in the midst of a mental spiral when you heard and knocking on the door and a familiar voice.

“Y/N, you decent?” Chris asked.

“Um, yeah. You can come in.”

Chris slowly opened the door, and his eyes widened when he saw you. You hugged your stomach nervously.

Chris made a kind of sputtering noise before mumbling “wow”, which you weren't supposed to hear. The word make your lips turn up.

“Uh, Y/N, you look spectacular.” He said, standing next to you in the mirror, and admiring you. You looked away, blushing.

“No, I don't. You have to say that. You're my friend.”

“Friend...” Chris said softly. “No, I don't have to say that. You truly look phenomenal. Dare I say, sexy.” Chris brushed some hair over your shoulder, turning to face you. Right then, the buzzer rang, summoning you to the set.

You cleared your throat.

You were about to walk out the door when you turned back to Chris.

“Can you promise me something?”

“Anything,” he said, without missing a beat.

“This won't change our friendship right? I just don't want things to be weird.”

A voice called from down the hall, asking you to hurry up.

You walked away.

It took a bit, but after some friendly cat-calls and whistles from the crew, you had the confidence to try to be seductive. You felt a little awkward, walking around the red and blue lighting and just looking around dramatically, but you trusted the director.

Next, you got in the coffin. With David, the director, shouting orders, you got into the part and began to have fun with it, playing model. Your confidence grew and your performance got better and better, until David decided enough was enough.

“Alright, Chris, get in there.”

Suddenly the anxiety returned.

You watched Chris in his suit walk around mysteriously in the lights and tried not to allow a shiver to go through you when he looked down at your lips and removed his glove.

“Y/N, you're the woman, you're not supposed to be so hard.”

The crew chuckled and you rolled your eyes, embarrassed that your anxiety was so obvious.

“Hey, you OK with this?” Chris whispered.

“Ye-yes. Yeah. Just. Out of my comfort zone.” You replied, before raising your voice. “Any directions, boss-man?”

“Just, act like you're a complete whore. You would die to touch him, you need him like oxygen. You're excited, get a little wiggle going on, yes?”

Mentally screaming at him, you nodded your head, and looked at Chris with daggers in your eyes. He couldn't hold in the laugh. Suddenly you were both laughing so hard you nearly fell back into the coffin, and Chris nearly fell in on top of you, making you laugh so hard your eyes watered.

“Oh come on, now your make up is all crinkled, everybody, take five! Y/N, go to hair and make up, and Chris... never mind.” David trailed off, you and Chris still giggling as he helped you out of the coffin. You fumbled a little in the stilettos, but Chris held you around your waist til you got your balance.

“Let's go.”

“David was right, you know,” Chris said, words you thought you'd never hear as you walked to hair and make up.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Not like that! I mean, you just seemed super tense, stiff.” You chuckled at the innuendo. “C'mon Y/N, I'm serious. Am I doing something wrong? I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, OK? So just tell me.”

“... I- complete honesty?”

“Always, you know that.”

“I'm scared... I'm scared that if we kiss you'll be disgusted by me or it'll change our friendship and I'll lose you. I don't want to kiss you for the first time in front of cameras and people—I mean, I don't want to kiss anyone for the first time in front of cameras—I mean, your opinion matters to me, and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Y/N. Breathe. Yeah?” Chris said, stopping walking to grab you by the shoulders and look you in the eye with a half smile that made you melt. “Would it help if, uh,” Chris looked to the side and nervously rubbed his hands. “If we kiss now, before cameras or anything. You can tell me what you like and what you don't so I don't fuck up,” he said before adding “It'd look better on camera if we're actually enjoying it, right?”.

You bit your lip and stepped closer. Chris brushed your hair behind your head and you couldn't help but turn into his hand a bit as he did, before looking up to his dark brown eyes. He stepped in til your bodies were nearly against each other, and lent down to softly brush your lips with his. You felt your breath catch in your throat as he snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You looped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips hard against him. The kiss was fire, and within moments you felt Chris's tongue against your lips, asking for entrance. You stood frozen in time, exploring each other as much as you dared before eventually breaking away for air.

You both stood there, entangled and breathing hard, looking away with small smiles.

“Um, so yeah, if you just do that it'll be fine.” You said, with a breathy voice and a little laugh. Chris joined in, and to your dismay, pulled away.

“Yeah, yeah definitely like that.” He said with a wink, before continuing the walk to hair and make up with his hands in his pockets. You stood still for a moment, hand to your lips, before walking fast to catch up.

You re-filmed the start of the shot after talking with Chris about what you were comfortable with (“well, we're in character, right? Just go for what feels right, and if I'm uncomfortable I'll stop you. Same goes for you.” to which Chris replied “You better let me know, I never want to hurt you.”). Chris walked up to you, and took his glove off. The look in his eye sent a shiver down your spine as you arched your back and lent across the coffin, convincing yourself you were leaning into the part and not Chris. But instead of kissing you, Chris brushed the hair from your face, and placed his head against yours, shutting his eyes. The tension was too much for you to bear as he lent down and rubbed his face against yours, kissing you without doing so, breath against your neck sparking electricity through your veins. You returned the motion, nuzzling into the man. But where Chris's hand had been around the back of your neck, he shifted his hands to be around your throat, lifting you up for better access to surprise you with a fierce, open-mouthed kiss.

It was like the man was trying to torture you. Or ruin you in the best way. You lent further into the kiss, deepening it.

“And cut! Perfect, we'll get all the kissing done at the same time to not waste the lipstick, yeah?” David said, ruining everything.

Chris helped you out of the coffin and you prayed you wouldn't slip and suffer the same fate and Chloe (not that you'd let a sprained ankle stop you now), and David guided you both to an empty area with a few blue lights around.

“OK. Now. I want you guys to make out. Just go for it. Chris, I want you to ravish her.” David directed.

At this point, you looked at Chris and just shrugged. He laughed and pulled you flush against him by the waist, both of you with cheeky grins.

“You ready to start filming?” Chris asked, an air of mischief in his voice.

Before David even said yes, Chris's lips were on yours again. It started a little sloppy and silly, but turned slower and more passionate fast, your hands cupping Chris' cheek, his arms around you only drawing you in closer, impossibly so. Chris broke the kiss and whispered in your ear.

“I'm going to do something, if you don't like it, just stop me, OK?” he spoke in a low whisper, and you didn't have to pretend to be turned on.

“I trust you.” You breathed back.

Then suddenly Chris was kissing your neck, then your chest. You arched your back to grant him better access, and stroked his neck as he sucked on the soft skin of your collarbone. It was all you could do to hold back a moan. When he pulled away and looked up at you, you could have died. Suddenly you felt too tense to kiss him again, scared you'd convey how much you need him, as Y/N, not the character in the music video. You turned your away, and then it was time to touch up your lipstick and a break before once more getting in the coffin.

You were drinking icy water and trying to calm yourself down from the growing heat and anxiety within you. You tried to compose yourself. You didn't want to be a creep, it's not exactly like he's consenting to you getting off from his acting. And that's all it was. Acting. Just... really convincing. You tried to reason with yourself and prepare yourself for the sex scene.

There was another knock on the dressing room door.

“Come in.”

Chris walked in, immaculate in his suit, but a concerned look in his dark eyes.

“What happened?”

“What do you mean?” You responded, feigning innocence.

“Did I do something wrong? I thought everything was OK. Did I cross a line? You know you can always stop me Y/N, I know you've been through shit and I don't want to ever hurt you, I'm really sor-”

“Chris, Chris, it's fine. You didn't cross a line or anything. I just. Um. Fuck,” you looked away, a blush spreading across your face. “I- Look, you did nothing wrong, OK? You did everything right. Maybe too right, if you get what I mean? I guess I just kinda froze up. But trust me, you didn't do anything wrong. You're... perfect.” You looked back up at Chris with imploring eyes, only to be met with a cocky smirk.

“Too right, huh? Man's got moves.” He laughed to himself, and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Don't get all proud of yourself,” you said and walked past. “Show time.”

Once you two opened the coffin and climbed in, it was up to you.

“I have one direction. Make me feel something. Action!” David boomed.

You started simple, Chris climbing on top of you, but you decided to take control. You lent back and put one heeled foot on Chris's chest, pushing him down slowly. He looked up at you with such an intense lust you could have moaned from that alone. You kissed for a moment before sitting up and helping Chris to take his jacket off. His eyes never left yours, piercing into your soul. The world didn't matter; nothing was real but this moment.

The pair of you moved in time, shifting seductively as Chris whispered to you, hand in your hair.

“Would it be too far if I,” he slid his hand across your face, and you understood his gesture. When his thumb slipped into your mouth, you sucked, fully getting into it. You were determined to make him as desperate as you were. He held both sides of your face and was about to kiss you, but you wrapped your arms around his wrists and tried to pull him down. But Chris was not one to obey. He pulled his hands away and brushed some hair out of your face, before pulling you up against him. Chris scooped you up, one hand cradling your neck delicately, the other gripping your ass for stability and control. You felt immediately how badly Chris wanted this when he grinded into you. The thin fabric of your costume and his suit was not enough to conceal his arousal. You gasped and grinded back as Chris lent in for a kiss that felt like fire. He guided you down into the coffin, as you felt his tongue slip past your lips. After just a moment of kissing, Chris sat up, both of you coming up for air, and double checking consent.

But you just grabbed his shirt and pulled him down. He kissed you lips, your neck, down your chest, even kissing your thigh, then lifting your leg up to caress as he kissed you deeply and passionately, grinding occasionally and trying to control himself. After a few more kisses, you broke apart.

“Perfection! Now we just need to close the lid.” David stated.

“I'm sorry, what?” you asked.

“We're going to close the lid. Well, Chris is. Make it extra dramatic, that's the ending of the video. Two lovers in their final bed.”

Normally you'd fight this, as the idea of being shut in a coffin—even for a moment in a music video—gave you anxiety, but in your current state, the idea made a shiver go through your spine.

The last scene was shot, you snuggled into Chris as he looked up into the camera and closed the door. For just a few moments, you remained just like that. Head on Chris's shoulder and hand on his chest, his arm around you and hand on your ass. You looked up at him and though you couldn't see it, he was looking down at you too.

Chris cleared his throat and tried to find something to say.

“Wow.” He stated, eloquently. You laughed quietly, knowing the camera was still filming.

Before you could lose your nerve, you reached your hand up to find his lips. You heard Chris breathing harder as your fingers found his lips. You just started to shuffle closer when you heard a voice.

“That's a wrap for tonight guys. Everyone fuck off home, it's going to be another big day tomorrow.” David said, walking off and dismissing the crew. The crew (most of whom your were friends with) thought it would be funny to leave you both in there rather than helping you out. Which meant you had to untangle yourselves and find a way out.

Someone tapped the coffin twice.

“See you tomorrow guys!” the voice was Ricky. Then, quieter, “Don't have too much fun.” You could feel the smirk through the coffin.

“Motherfucker!” Chris yelled, and only get a distant laughter in response.

You heard nothing but Chris' heartbeat and your head rested on his chest.

For a second, you just looked up at Chris, unsure what to do. You wanted to tell him, but you were scared. You wanted to kiss him, but what if he freaked out, what if it was only for the video, and he was just another actor? But could you live with yourself if you didn't take the chance? Before you could do anything, Chris tried to pull his arm out from under you to push up on the lid of the coffin, and in doing so ended up half on top of you. Chris breathed in sharply as you felt what was most definitely not his leg pressing on yours.

“Ah, sorry, I just, uh, you know,” Chris laughed nervously before looking into your eyes, “You were too good too.” He meant to joke, but his emotions leaked out through the words.

“Trust me, if I was a man, I'd be apologising for the same thing,” you laughed, trying to ease into talking again, and letting Chris know it was all OK. “I mean, when you pulled me in and like, thrust into me? Fuck, I know you said you have moves but damn, you really have moves!” You joked—or tried to make it seem that way.

“I mean, I'm happy to show you more, if you want.” he said with a wink, leaning into it in a joking manner.

“Bold of you to assume I don't want that.” you returned. The joke slipped out, challenging him, but you weren't expecting his facade to drop as he looked at you with total sincerity.

“Y/N, I—I need to ask you something. Was this, ah, was this just for the video? Cause I could swear I felt something real, and I'm hoping it's not just because I want there to be.”

“I- Thank God I wasn't imagining it.” You smiled and pulled him in. But this wasn't like when the cameras where on you. This was soft. Hesitant. Fragile and delicate but determined to push yourself. Because you couldn't let this slip away. Him slip away. While you were aiming for just a short kiss, a peck, wordlessly checking it was OK, Chris had other ideas.

Suddenly his hands were in your hair, his lips on yours, and instead of passion, there was a soft declaration of love. Just taking time to memorize the feel of your lips. But you were both still worked up, and then the heat came in moments, the kiss like fire. As your tongues danced, Chris slid a hand down your body, stopping to squeeze your ass as he grinded into your leg. You moaned into the kiss, rocking your hips against his.

“Chris,” you moaned, as he started to grind his cock against your clothed core.

“Dammit, how do you get this thing off?” He asked, tugging at your costume, and you laughed.

“Fuck, this stupid costume, we're gonna need to get out of here to get it off... Dressing room?” You suggested.

“I don't know,” Chris said darkly, breathing against your ear. “I was looking forward to fucking you right here in this coffin.”

The statement sent a shiver down your spine. Chris didn't miss this.

“I knew you thought this was hot too,” he said, voice low and leaving a hickey on the small of your neck. Chris slid his hand down to rub against your heat, and you bucked your hips into his hand immediately.

“Fuck, you're a lot darker than I gave you credit for, kitten.” Chris' low voice forced a whimper out of you. Then he stopped. “If I go too far, stop me, OK? I don't want to hurt you... well, unless you want me to.”

“Chris, if you stop now, I will fucking murder you.”

“Can't think of a better way to go.”

“Chris!”

With that, Chris tore the fabric connecting the top and bottom of the costume, sliding your panties off at the same time. Before you could even register the destroyed costume, his thumb was rubbing circles on your clit and you cried out.

“Yes! Just there!” You moaned, and Chris slowed his pace. You were about to protest when you heard the zipper of his of his pants. You reached down and pulled his cock out of his pants, and he groaned as you pumped him slowly.

“Shit, I'm not going to last if you keep touching my like that, Y/N,” Chris moaned airily as he thrust into your hand.

“I'm only teasing you back, baby,” you smirked, letting go and kissing him harshly.

“Uh, I don't have a condom, are you OK with that?” Asked Chris, ever the gentleman.

“I'm on the pill, just fuck me, please.” The last word slipped out before you could stop yourself. As hot as this was, you knew your friend would never let you live this down.

“'Please?' Don't tell me,” Chris said, melodramatic, “you're a sub!”

“Chris, don't make me do it, don't ruin the moment.”

“I'm not ruining anything, all I'm saying is-”

“No,”

“that you have to beg.”

“I am not-” You stopped as Chris rolled on top of you, grinded his cock against your wet core, and bit the spot just below your ear, causing you to let out a high pitched whimper.

“Are you sure about that, darling?” Chris asked in a low voice.

You whimpered more as he rubbed circles on your clit with his thumb.

“Please Chris, I'm begging you, please fuck me!”

With that Chris thrust his full length into you without any warning.

You cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain, the later only making the first more intense. Chris was far bigger than any other guy you'd had, both in length and width, and the stretch was perfection. You could've cum then and there when Chris hammered into you without waiting, groaning into your ear. The noises that man was making could drive you insane. Each thrust was deeper, and took you to a new level as you ran your nails down Chris's back, legs wrapping around him for more, more, more. You were in such a state that neither of you could even feel or hear the coffin jolting with each thrust. You wished you could see more of Chris, but the darkness of the coffin only heightened your other senses. Each thrust felt more powerful, as Chris hit your g spot without fail each time.

It wasn't long before you Chris stopped kissing your neck to groan into your ear, slowing his pace.

“Y/N, I'm gonna cum,” He warned, asking without words what you were comfortable with.

“Cum in me,” you said without missing a beat, and you could've sworn the man whimpered a little. “Please.”

With that, Chris returned to his brutal pace, kissing your lips like he needed you like air. He pinched your nipple, and as a gasp escaped, Chris used this to his advantage for further access. After a moment, you felt his thumb toy with your clit again, slow circles getting faster, and as you felt yourself clench around Chris, the tightness in your stomach released and you felt ecstasy as you bucked wildly, desperate to stay in this moment. Just as you started to come down from your high, Chris released into you, losing control. You couldn't help but climb higher as the man you'd die for moaned into your ear, holding your hips and just losing himself into you.

You two cooled down, breathing hard against each other, the scent of sex heavy in the coffin. Though you could hardly see it, you could feel Chris looking into your eyes. Then his hand brushed some hair from your face and he kissed you sweetly, still inside you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him lovingly. When the kiss ended, Chris slipped out, and let out a sigh.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted you, Y/N. How much I need you.” Chris's voice was soft and gentle, a stark contrast what took place mere moments ago.

“I feel like I could say the same. Chris, I-” You stopped yourself before you could say how you feel. Because even after all this, the fear remained. But Chris wasn't going to let that get in the way.

“You what?”

“I've liked you for the longest time.” You chickened out.

“Well, I've loved you for years.”

Even in the dark, you looked over at him.

“What?”

“I wrote this song for you, actually. I'm eternally yours. If you'll give me the honour of being so.”

“I love you.” Was all you could say before your lips crashed to his once more in the beautiful blackness.

Taglist: @fedorable-killjoys @horrorolson As always if anyone wants to be added or taken of the taglist please let me know! <3

If you read this and liked it, please reblog!! Or if you reeeally liked it, here's my kofi <3

#chris motionless #chris cerulli #motionless in white #miw #chris motionless x reader #chris cerulli x reader #chris cerulli smut #chris motionless smut #chris motionless x reader smut #eternally yours #motionless in white fanfiction

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littlemourningstarr · 28 days

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Fate Engraved

Home is within reach for Astarion, now that Wyrm's Crossing is in sight. But what does home mean? Eventually returning to the shadows, succumbing to hunger, needing to be cared for and yet having nothing to offer in return- Unless, of course, he were to ascend.

Read below or on AO3!

Pairing: Astarion x Transmasc tav

Part of the Eternally Yours series!

Tags: Transmasc tav, hurt no comfort, masturbation, hand jobs

Astarion gazed out over the stretch of civilization that spanned below him. Wyrm’s Crossing. The welcome mat of Baldur’s Gate, slumbering as much as she ever did, deep in the embrace of night.

He sighed, softly to himself, leaned his folded arms against the rock of the old structure they’d used to set up camp. He’d climbed up as high as the old ladders had allowed, to get a view of the waiting city below. One sleep away. Moments, in the grand scheme of eternity.

He was almost home. It felt strange, wretched and gut wrenching to think of it as home- but it was. Despite the horrors that awaited within the city, despite the aching memories that coiled in his mind and belly like feral serpents- Baldur’s Gate was home.

He wanted it to be home.

Astarion closed his eyes, let the cool night air soothe him. Freshly fed, he could enjoy the chill. He could still taste the hint of deer blood, on his tongue. It was nice to be able to hunt for himself again, to not have to worry bout finding a stray cultist to feed his hunger.

Not that he had minded being fed. The night Sekh had gifted him that half orc… gods above, it haunted him in the most pleasant of ways. To be so fucking seen and adored for what made him a monster? To have someone willing to take care of him- to keep him safe…

Astarion opened his eyes, stared back at the faint, flickering light of dying torches below. Keep him safe… he needed that, didn’t he? He fucking needed that, because when this was over, the sun would turn him to cinders- and he was all too aware of how his aching hunger could be immobilizing.

But maybe he wouldn’t need that. The thought had been gnawing at him, squirming and trashing more than the worm, ever since Raphael had shed light on his scars. A living vampire. An immortal without any of the consequences.

Cazador was on the verge of a miracle, he had come further than any vampire ever had, Astarion was sure. There was a spark of awe at the thought, something he hadn’t felt towards the monster of a man in a long, long time. He was one missing piece away from the impossible-

And Astarion had to wonder- how securely could Cazador hold onto this miracle? What if…

What if there was a way to take his place?

He smiled to himself, unable to not- indulged in the thoughts. He wouldn’t ever have to say goodbye to the sun- he could greet the dawn without fear of burning. And the hunger, gods the hunger would be gone.

He didn’t remember what it was like, to not feel that ache. Now that he was able to feed fully, it was barely there- a small knot that sometimes twisted in his belly, a cramp that would work itself away. But for it to be well and truly gone?

He dug his fingers into his own arms, the wind picking up more. Worse than the hunger was the fear that had been webbed into his very being, for damn near two centuries. But nothing could touch him if he were to ascend-

He wouldn’t need someone to protect him, to care for him. Maybe he could even…

His thoughts broke at the sound of the old wooden ladder creaking. He glanced over his shoulder, watched a spark of ginger hair come into view- and then Sekh, as he pulled himself up off the ladder. The drow smiled at him, the same easy smile that seemed natural on his face, when he saw Astarion.

Astarion’s pulse picked up, pounded within his veins, his head. He didn’t think anyone had ever looked at him like that, before. He couldn’t remember a time when someone did.

“Am I interrupting?” Sekh asked, and Astarion shook his head, turned back to the slumbering city. The drow walked over, pulled himself up onto the stone border along the roof, sat not facing the city, but looking at Astarion.

As if the waiting city mattered little, so long as the vampire was right in front of him.

“It’s so close,” Astarion said softly, “The gate… home.”

Sekh nodded, kicking a leg out, seeming to enjoy the night’s chill. For a moment he seemed almost carefree- as if when day broke they wouldn’t be moving back into the tumult of their lives. “I’ve never been to a city as large as Baldur’s Gate,” Sekh admitted, still pointedly not craning his neck to look behind him, but instead watching Astarion.

Astarion looked fully at him then, quirked a brow. “The Underdark boasts plenty of large cities…”

“But I didn’t grow up in one. And after everything that happened… Well, I didn’t think any of them would be welcoming. And when I’m topside I tend to travel between smaller towns…” He shrugged a shoulder, and Astarion pushed himself up from where he leaned, situated himself between the drow’s legs, hands finding his thighs and squeezing.

“Nervous?” he asked, and Sekh glanced away, but gave a single, small nod.

It was rather precious to see the drow nervous, over something so trivial. It was endearing.

“I promise to only show you the best sights Baldur’s Gate has to offer,” Astarion teased, knowing it was such a lie. They would see the city’s horrors before its splendors.

Sekh gave him another easy, natural smile. “I’m looking at the best sight right now.”

Astarion wanted to laugh and cry, in that very moment. “Cliche,” he managed, leaning closer. Sekh reached up, twirled some of his curls.

“But true.” His eyes flicked to Astarion’s lips, the look of wanting a kiss, but not being willing to take. Astarion wished he would. Wished the drow would take again, and again, and again…

Instead, he took. He leaned up, brushed his lips to Sekh’s, took a single, brief kiss- the barest of caresses. But it still had Astarion’s blood humming in his veins, his body wanting more, his mind wanting to unravel, be undone and stitched back together by this man.

“Are you nervous?” Sekh asked. Astarion stepped back, pinched his lips together.

“That Cazador and his right of Profane Ascension are so close?” Astarion said each word as if they were bitter, and Sekh only nodded. “I don’t relish the idea,” Astarion admitted, “but as you said- he’ll never leave me alone, so long as he lives.”

“But if you didn’t want to face him…” Sekh trailed off, before he swallowed thickly. “Astarion, you wouldn’t have to. We would kill him for you, if you so much as asked. Or…” Sekh hesitated, before he added, “we could run.”

Astarion could tell that wasn’t what the drow wanted. But he didn’t doubt that the man would, if Astarion asked.

“I’d never know peace.” Astarion shook his head. “No. Cazador’s life is mine. And…” he paused, couldn’t keep a little wicked smile from growing on his lips, “perhaps his rite will be mine as well.” Sekh’s brow creased. Astarion didn’t notice.

He pushed off the stone wall, stepping back a few steps, throwing his arms out.

“It promises to be an imperious soiree.” He twirled, tipping his head back, the utter absurdity that Cazador could have orchestrated such a fiendish plot and that he was wrapped up in the bastard’s web making him feel ridiculous. “Attended by devils and spawn alike. I do wonder if Raphael will get an invite.”

He paused, offered out his hand. Sekh’s look was worried, but the drow stood up, took his hand. Astarion pulled him in close, flush to his body, reached up to toy with his hair.

“He’ll be elevated to an unfathomable station. The world will yearn to kneel and offer their necks.”

Sekh reached up, gently grasped Astarion’s wrist, pausing him from tugging at Sekh’s hair. “Astarion.” His name sounded so serious, on the man’s lips. “You sound like you envy him.”

“Of course I envy him!” Astarion pulled back, “Why wouldn’t I? He is about to reach a godhood that no vampire has ever known. True immortality, without the hindrance of this never ending hunger. Hells, he’ll get to see the sun every gods damned day.”

“We need to stop him,” Sekh said, his words careful. Astarion could sense a hint of trepidation in his voice. “Astarion, the lives he will ruin. The man is a wretch. Who knows what hell he would unleash if he had this sort of power.”

“We will stop him.” Astarion reached back for Sekh, back for his hand- laced their fingers together, “but darling- imagine if I could take the rite for myself.”

Astarion had expected that Sekh might beam over the idea- but the drow simply frowned. “At what cost?”

Astarion didn’t need him to specify- he knew the drow meant the other spawn.

“Don’t tell me you’re feeling sympathy for the other spawn.” The idea made Astarion’s stomach sick, made his chest tight with an anger he couldn’t quite name. A jealousy, that the other spawn who had never done anything for him could have some of this man’s worry.

Sekh should be worried about him. Shouldn’t he?

“Trust me, the other spawn must be wishing for death just as badly as I did. After two years of pure. Fucking. Shit.” Each word was said through bared teeth, boiling with an anger so deep in Astarion’s very soul, he wondered if it might ever be quenched. “I think I deserve something better.”

Sekh lifted his hand, pressed his mouth to Astarion’s knuckles. He was… quiet. It wasn’t what Astarion expected. “You deserve so many things,” he finally said, and Astarion smiled. The drow would see he was right, he was sure. After all, Sekh-

Well, he cared for him. He’d said as much, proven as much. “As do you,” Astarion said, voice going soft. “With that power I wouldn’t have to fear anything ever again. Nor would you. I could take care of you…” Astarion hooked his other arm around Sekh’s waist, pulled him back to his body, pressed a kiss to the bridge of his nose.

Never would he have thought he’d want to take care of someone. But the thought of being able to do something for this man, who seemed to be willing to go to the very ends of the realms for him- well, it felt good.

“You already can,” Sekh offered, tipping his head up, brushing a kiss to Astarion’s mouth. It was chaste, but Astarion chased him when he tried to move away, stealing another, and then another-

Biting at the drow’s lips, until Sekh was gasping for him.

He felt like he hadn’t kissed the man properly in lifetimes. The past few days the company had been absorbed in their trek from the once shadow cursed lands- Astarion hadn’t even slept in Sekh’s tent, the past two nights. The previous night had been a haphazard disaster, discovering the dream visitor that had been with them since shortly after the crash for a Mindflayer. And the night before, Arabella hed left- despite Sekh softly pleading she stay. She seemed intent on following the path Withers had set out for her. Sekh had been gone nearly the whole night, lost in the dark, guiding her as far as she would let him.

He realized, as he pressed his tongue past those kiss soft lips, as Sekh reached up, sank a hand into his curls, that he desperately missed him.

In so, so many ways.

Astarion pulled off his mouth, dragged kisses along his jaw. Sekh tipped his head back, offered his neck without hesitation, and Astarion dragged his fangs along his pulse, not breaking skin but teasing. He felt the man shiver. He hadn’t tasted him in too long.

Without thought, Astarion ground into him, felt his body responding to the kisses, to Sekh’s heat, to the promise of his blood and all the little noises he’d make under Astarion’s fangs. All the arousal that had built in him, only to ebb without release since they’d reached the cursed lands- it came back in a rush, had him feeling nearly dizzy.

“Can I have you, darling?” he whispered, both hands now on Sekh’s hips, grasping firmly. “Pretty please?”

Sekh sucked at his own lip, eyes barely open. “Astarion-”

“I’ve waited long enough,” the vampire breathed, nosing just under Sekh’s ear. “You’ve teased me for long enough.” He lifted his head, let Sekh catch his stare, hold it. “I want you.”

Gods did he. Astarion wanted everything this man would give him- he had, for moments upon endless moments while the drow waited for him. Astarion didn’t want to wait forever-

His body was his again- and he was making the decision to bed this man. He was encouraging his own lust, because it felt good to be aroused, it felt safe with Sekh.

Sekh smiled at him. “Let’s see where the night takes us,” he offered, and Astarion took his hand, turned and pulled him towards the ladder. Sekh gave a breathy laugh, said his name- and gods, it was musical.

“It’s taking us directly to your bedroll,” Astarion said, feeling sure, as he climbed down the first ladder. Sekh laughed again, infectious, and climbed down just as quickly, was eager to get under Astarion’s arm, both his arms sliding around Astarion’s waist, clinging to him like a drunken youth as they headed for Sekh’s tent.

And it was in sight when Shadowheart called out to Sekh, her voice shattering the night. They paused, both turning to her, and she was beckoning him over- for once seeming oblivious to what they were intending to do.

“I need your help with something!” she called. Sekh sighed, glanced at Astarion- and the vampire frowned, but waved him off.

“Go,” he said, even as his body screamed at him to just pick the man up, throw him over his shoulder, and take him to bed. Or take him right there.

“I don’t have to,” Sekh said, but Astarion only shook his head. He leaned in, took a single, drawn out kiss- the kind that had Sekh’s breath caught in his throat, had the drow sucking in air desperately when Astarion finally freed him.

“I’ll share this time,” Astarion whispered, voice dropping low. “But you’re mine some night soon, my sweet. Don’t forget.”

There was a flush to Sekh’s cheeks, this gorgeous color that let Astarion know the man had been burning just as hotly as he had, these past endless days. “I could never.”

Astarion’s eyes snapped open as he gasped, his back arching, reality crashing in as his trance dissipated with a suddenness, it was almost as if he had slept. He grasped at his bedroll, his hips rolling instinctively, feeling hot under his skin, as if his flesh itself was two sizes too small to contain him.

Just a moment before, he hadn’t been here- in his tent, alone- he’d been back, what felt like lifetimes ago, amongst the trees in the dead of night. He’d had Sekh riding him, the drow silhouetted in moonlight, looking ethereal, making Astarion believe in the divine.

Astarion bit his lip, all too aware that he was painfully hard, cock straining in his underwear, beneath his blanket. But for a single moment he ignored it, more in awe that his mind had allowed him to relive such a memory.

He couldn’t remember reliving a good memory, during his trances. Maybe back, in the very beginning of his undeath- but it had been countless years, now. His nights were often memories of stolen kisses to those he never even desired- or, worse, Cazador himself. Cazador and those shark like jaws, that first bite- and oh, the so many after.

Astarion took a steadying breath, not wanting to even think the man’s name, let alone see his face, behind his eyes. He wanted to savor this, if he was honest with himself. Waking up needing had been an aspect of his life, one he assumed for so long had been lost, forever.

He reached down, palmed himself through his underwear. He tried to grind into his own hand, the what felt like eons of pent up arousal crashing over him, suddenly too much. He hadn’t had relief once, since his list tryst with Sekh. He’d let himself boil alive in wanting, relish the desire and the ache it caused him-

But he had limits, and he was so far beyond them now.

Astarion kicked his blanket away, left it tangled around his legs as he arched his hips, managed to pull his underwear down to the juncture of his pale thighs. His cock bobbed free, rested against his belly, flushed as if he had just fed moments ago.

Sucking at his own lip now, Astarion wrapped his hand around himself, teased his cockhad with his thumb, let his eyelids flutter as the sensitive nerves screamed at the sensation. He dragged precum down his length, made his first true stroke up so easy.

He let his eyes fall shut, let himself drift back to that night- took a few steps back in the evening, to when he was sprawled between his drow’s thighs, mouth pressed desperately to his cunt. Gods, he could taste him just from memory, and it shot a bolt of molten hot arousal up his belly, let it writhe so deep in his gut it hurt.

Astarion’s mouth fell open, a quiet moan escaping him. He wanted that again, desperately. To feel Sekh writhing beneath him, hips rolling to meet his eager tongue. Wanted the drow to come over and over again for him, so Astarion could drink it down, sweeter than even the man’s blood. He could find his own release from just that, he was so sure-

“Astarion, are you-” the voice broke through Astarion’s thoughts, as his tent rustled and the very object of his seeming insatiable desire poked his head in. Whatever words he had left died on his tongue, as Astarion slit his eyes open, glanced over at his lover. “Oh.”

Astarion forced his hand away from himself, but didn’t try to hide himself. Why bother? Sekh had seen every inch of him- even the ugliest parts. And he was the reason Astarion was in this state, after all.

Sekh cleared his throat. “Sorry.” The word caught in his throat, and Astaron could hear his pulse, suddenly hammering, swore the current of blood in Sekh’s veins was singing to him. The man had been aroused nearly instantly.

It made Astarion’s cock throb, against his belly.

“I should… go.” Sekh closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was composing himself, and Astarion didn’t hesitate when he whispered, please don’t. He’d been ready to fuck the man for the entire night only hours ago- it seemed silly to have him leave now.

And Astarion didn’t want him to, he realized.

Sekh let himself in, got down on the bedroll, as Astarion sat up, squirmed himself completely free of his underwear. He reached for his drow, pushed him slightly so he was sitting back, and crawled into his lap, happily taking up the space between his thighs. He pressed his back to Sekh’s chest, draped one leg over Sekh’s thigh, and took himself back in hand, stroking oh so slowly.

Sekh’s breath escaped him, as he hooked an arm around Astarion’s waist, held him tight, nuzzled into his bed tousled, nearly wild curls. His heat was nearly unbearable, and yet Astarion wanted to burn for eternity, pressed against him. He tipped his head back, so Sekh could dip his head down, mouth at his neck, his jaw, nip at his ear. Astarion’s hips rocked up at that, a little cry escaping him.

He felt Sekh shiver.

“Do you feel good?” the drow asked, husky, and Astarion nodded, mouth falling open. Gods below he felt so good, held and safe as he gave himself the pleasure so many had never delivered to him. Sekh’s other hand ran up his chest, over his shirt, slid along his neck. His fingers brushed the scars on Astarion’s throat, before the slid higher, rubbed the length of his ear.

Astarion gasped, trembled, cheeks going far redder than they should have. He heard the drow chuckle, and gods damn him, he really had filed away every little spot he’d ever found on the elf, hadn’t he?

Astarion twisted his fist around his cockhead, before he let go, reached for the arm Sekh had around his waist, He grabbed his hand, desperately guiding it to his cock. “Touch me,” he managed, feeling nearly delirious. “Sekh, gods, please.”

The drow obeyed, wrapped his warm hand around Astarion’s cock, gave him a firm stroke. Astarion arched back, trying to drive into his hand. Sekh kissed his curls, whispered, good boy, and Astarion trembled so violently he thought he might shed his very skin.

Why did it feel so good when the man praised him? Why did he want to be so fucking good in Sekh’s eyes?

Astarion’s breath was ragged, his hips squirming as Sekh kept a firm but calm pace. He was keeping Astarion so close to the edge that the vampire swore he was going to pass out, fall into an endless oblivion.

And- as if he knew, as if he fucking knew that Astarion was at his limit, that he needed release just as badly as he had once needed air- Sekh’s hand tightened, stroked faster.

Astarion whined, an undignified sound, yet he couldn’t care. The pressure in his belly, the ache in his balls, his lower back- it all burst suddenly, relief washing over him in warm, golden like waves of sheer euphoria, as his orgasm took him. He gave a cry as he smiled, felt his cum splashing against his belly, running over Sekh’s fingers. His lover stroked him through it, said his name like it was a prayer, and Astarion swore it was the longest orgasm of his life, pleasure upon pleasure that didn’t seem to ebb or wane until he was so sure he had met death for a second time.

When his body finally relaxed, limp and satiated back against Sekh, the drow stilled his hand, but didn’t let go. Instead his thumb rolled over Astarion’s sensitive cockhead, teased his slit, had the vampire gasping. He almost wanted to go again, to have Sekh touch and tease until his cock was hard again, until he could find his bliss a second time.

Astarion managed to turn his head, even as it felt too heavy for his neck. “Sekh, darling,” he managed, his voice wavering. Sekh glanced down at him, and Astarion stared at his lips, unable to voice his desire to be kissed back to the precipice of death.

Thankfully, Sekh seemed to understand. He kissed him carefully, tentative for a moment, before it turned slow, deep. Astarion sighed, as the drow’s tongue pushed into his mouth, teased the tips of his fangs, made them ache deep into Astarion’s gums. Astarion reached up, awkwardly got a hand in Sekh’s hair, held him firmly when the drow went to pull away.

Astarion was not done kissing him. He may never be.

Yet when Sekh tried to pull away again a moment later, Astarion let him. He did pout without meaning to, which earned him an earnest laugh from his lover. “I’d kiss you all day if I could,” Sekh admitted, “but the city is waiting, sweetheart.”

Astarion shivered a bit over the endearment. “Let it wait,” he whispered, knowing the man wouldn’t. Knowing they couldn’t, as much as either of them wanted to.

But Sekh guided Astarion to sit up properly, released his hold on him. For a moment, the drow examined his own hand, pearly trails of cum along his delicate fingers-

And then, with a smirk and a glance at Astarion, dragged his tongue up along the first trail. Astarion groaned, reached for the drow’s hand, popped his fingers into his mouth, tasted his own bitter relief along his tongue as he sucked on them, rolled his tongue over them. Sekh shivered, looked ready to bury his free hand in Astarion’s hair, guide him as if his fingers were a cock and Astarion needed teaching on how to please.

But he held back. He pulled his fingers from Astarion’s mouth, took one last brief kiss, and left Astarion to drown in the memory of his blood, hammering in his veins, swearing he could smell desire on his drow as potently as any perfume.

Even Wyrm’s Crossing felt like a dream, to Astarion. The bustle outside Baldur’s Gate’s walls felt familiar, even if it seemed far more crowded than usual.

Astarion walked a step behind Sekh, flanking his shoulder, his shadowed side. Sekh was glancing about rapidly, taking in the sights, sounds, even the smells.

Some of those, they could do without.

“We’ll need to get into Wyrm’s Rock,” Wyll said, “if we want to find Gortash- I imagine he’ll be there. The other one- Orin- I haven’t the slightest.”

There was a round of nods. No one seemed to know much about the wraith of a woman.

While they were paused, seeming to converse and plan on how they should best approach an upcoming confrontation with one of the Dead Three’s Chosen, Astarion was distracted by the sound of small, quick footsteps.

Seemingly, out of nowhere, a thin child appeared, directly in front of Sekh. She had a large cat flanking her, pressing very close.

“Uhm, hi.” She lifted a single hand, waved at Sekh, seemed to ignore the rest of the party. And, gods below, what sort of child approached an unknown drow? “I can’t find my mom.”

Sekh turned his full attention to her, crouching down so he could be eye level. “Where did you last see her?”

“She went into the woods to get some herbs. She was sick. She had, uhm, these…” the girl paused, a flash of discomfort on her face at trying to remember whatever ailment her mother had looked like. “Spots, on her hands and face.” She swallowed then, glanced down at the ground. “That was a tenday ago, though. She said she’d be back the same day.”

Sekh frowned, before he offered out his hand. “I’m Sekh’met. What’s your name?”

“Yenna!” The girl beamed, took Sekh’s hand and squeezed it. She seemed so small- Astarion could see the knobs of her knees. Definitely underfed. He presumed her mother wasn’t coming back- she’d probably gone off to die alone, to save the girl the trauma of finding her.

She would be one of the Gate’s nameless orphans, now.

Well, except with a name.

“Yenna, is there somewhere you can go?” Yenna shook her head. “A temple, maybe?”

Astarion didn’t miss the little twitch at the corner of Sekh’s mouth. Oh, his disgust at divinity was a rather fun quirk about him.

Another shake of her head. “The temple isn’t helping anyone now. And...” she glanced over her shoulder, and said in a small whisper, “I don’t want to go to the Fists.”

Oh, Astarion didn’t blame her for that.

Sekh nodded, reached into his robes. When his hand came back, he was clutching something, which he pressed into the girl’s hand. “Okay. Take this and get something to eat. Make sure you don’t show more than you need to buy something to anyone, okay?”

Astarion frowned. Were they a charity now? Gold was an advantage they could use, if they needed to pay to make someone talk. Not that hurting information out of someone wouldn’t be fun.

The girl looked at her hand, then up at Sekh, eyes big. “Thank you! You can’t do anything without gold, and I don’t have anything…” She pocketed it as Sekh stood up, before giving him a wave and another toothy grin. Then she was off, her cat in tow.

Sekh watched her disappear, and when he turned- well, Astarion could see he was upset. He didn’t need to ask- he knew the drow saw himself in every child who lost their parents. Astarion had seen it first hand with Arabella.

Still, Sekh composed himself quickly, turning back to the party. “So, where to?”

The circus had not even crossed Astarion’s mind as an option. But the moment they had seen the signs, as they moved further into Wyrm’s Crossing, Karlach and screamed like a child in excitement.

He had expected the entire company to calm her down- but Wyll had been bemused, and Sekh had seemed to nearly vibrate at the concept. Which meant the entire motley group was now standing in line, being smelled by a Ghoul.

“Grotesque thing,” Astarion muttered, glancing away, hoping to try and keep it down wind. Judging from its smell, they bathed Ghouls far less than even dogs.

“I’ve never seen Benji act like this,” the man at the gate was saying, looking in utter shock as Benji crooned and cawed on about brain juice like piss and iron. Attractive. “Sorry folks, we can’t take that chance.”

Karlach’s shoulders slumped, and Astarion assumed that was that, was ready to turn and leave- but then Sekh was speaking, “I’ve actually been hired as part of a magic show.” He lifted his left hand, and shadows began to wisp around his fingers, before he flicked some up into rings.

Since when could he do tricks?

The man beamed. “Gods you should have just said something! Benji doesn’t smell a lot of drow, maybe your brain juice is just a tad different.” Seeming unaware that that could have been an insult, the man simply gestured at the gate, moving on. “Welcome to the Circus of Lost Days- and to the family!”

The group was ushered in, and they were barely a few paces from the gate when Karlach was lifting Sekh up, spinning him around excitedly. “I love you and your convincing little face!” she exclaimed, smacking a kiss on his cheek. He looked like a ragdoll in her arms- it was quite comical.

Astarion realized he was chuckling, had been, and hadn’t even realized it.

Karlach set the drow down, before taking his hand, pulling him into the fray. Astarion presumed Sekh lost, as Shadowheart moved up to stand next to him. Her freshly silver hair seemed to gleam in the sunlight. It had been what she had needed Sekh’s help so badly with last night.

Astarion tried very hard to not be jealous, even when he had told Sekh to go to her. But had he known it was just her hair-

Well, he might have told her to simply wait a night. He’d waited damn long enough, that was for sure.

“You might never get him back,” she mused, folding her arms. “I think he and Karlach might live here now.”

Astarion scoffed. “Like hells am I living in a circus.” Shadowheart glanced at him then, quirked up a brow.

“I didn’t say anything about you, Astarion- only Sekh. Ready to play house already with him?” Astarion opened his mouth to retort, before he clamped it shut, realizing he didn’t have a rebuttal. She had a point. It wasn’t like he had discussed with Sekh what they might do, if they ever freed themselves from their lovely little wriggling friends.

Shadowheart must have noticed the sheer confusion on his face, because her gaze softened and she tossed an arm around his shoulders. “Relax Astarion, I was only teasing. I’m fairly sure Sekh would follow you into the hells. He’s pretty lovesick.”

Astarion nodded, but he wasn’t so sure. After all, what did he even offer the man? Once the parasite was gone, he’d be forced back into the shadows. Life would never be normal, with Astarion.

It was all the more reason he needed to take Cazador’s rite for himself. Then he’d have something to offer- all that power, for the both of them. Protection against anything.

Normalcy. The mundane, if they so desired.

Shadowheart squeezed her arm that was around his shoulders, a half hug, before breaking the contact, urging him into the circus.

It proved to be an… interesting place- to put it one way. Various entertainment acts going on at once, games- and a plethora of food offerings. Astarion had expected Sekh to be enthralled by some of the acts, so he was shocked to find him utterly ignoring the entertainment, huddled with Halsin and Wyll, all sharing a little paper sack of something.

Upon closer inspection once he reached them, it was candy. Jagged, uneven little crystals of varying colors. Halsin seemed intrigued by them, as Wyll was pointing out what flavor each color was, pulling from childhood memories.

Each time he pointed to one, Sekh popped it into his mouth, nodding enthusiastically that he could taste whatever flavor Wyll described.

“Astarion, did you ever eat these?” Wyll asked, noticing the vampire had joined them. Astarion took a closer look at the candies- and he assumed possibly, once upon a time, but he had no recollection.

“Darling, my diet has been quite particular for some time. Candy is simply not a part of it.” Wyll shrugged a shoulder, pointed out that he was missing out, before he grabbed some, took Halsin by the shoulder, and asked how he felt about darts.

“Could you eat them?” Sekh asked, voice genuine, curious. Astarion thought on it for a moment.

“Probably not,” he said, “I can handle liquids- gods below if I had to give up wine. But anything more makes me ill.” Sekh frowned at that, before he reached for the front of Astarion’s armor with his free hand, grabbed him and tugged him in a step. He planted a kiss directly on his mouth, Sekh’s lips sticky, so overly sweet it was intoxicating.

Astarion leaned into it, made a little noise when Sekh flicked his tongue, against his lips. Astarion reached for the man’s hips, grasped them as he pushed back at his curious tongue, until he could taste the flavors of each candy, in Sekh’s mouth. He growled, low in his throat, hadn’t even meant to, and he felt Sekh shiver.

The drow pulled away first, gave Astarion a smile just as sweet as the candy that stained his lips. “Well, that’s what they taste like.”

The elf wanted to laugh at the absurdity. He realized he was smiling, grinning so large his cheeks ached. When had that happened? How had he missed it?

“You are ridiculous, my sweet.” Sekh just smiled harder, and Astarion took the candy from his hand. “And you’ll make yourself sick if you eat all of these.”

Sekh reached for the bag, but Astarion moved away quickly, keeping it close to his chest. He hadn’t realized just how much of a sweet tooth the drow had. Perhaps that was why his blood had such a sugary, decedent taste to it.

“I absolutely won’t,” Sekh said, almost pleading- but Astarion turned, hurrying off into the crowds, knowing the drow would be chasing him. Welcoming it, truly.

He hoped Sekh would never stop chasing him.

By the time they finally left the circus, the light had faded, and they were a bit more bloodstained than before. Truly, a shape changing clown? Was there anything more ridiculous? At this point Astarion was convinced some divine power was simply fucking with them, and having quite a good time as they did so.

They didn’t expect to make it into the city at night, so they were forced to set up camp once again outside the city. Truth be told, it wasn’t the worst thing, Astarion was sure.

If he was honest, he’d been eager for night to come. To perhaps pick up where he and Sekh had desperately left off that morning- to follow through with all their silent, delicious promises from the night before. No matter who needed him tonight, Astarion refused to share. His drow would be his, and his alone.

Astarion wanted to find a meal quickly, so as to have as much of the night as possible. He was ready to leave camp, skulk off into the surrounded woods for something filling- when he heard rustling. He paused, glancing towards some of the shrubbery about- and then stared as a mop of red hair poked into view, followed by the rest of an overly thin child, and her large cat.

The same girl who had run up to Sekh earlier.

“Hi!” she said, catching sight of Astarion instantly. “You were with the nice man earlier.” Astarion wasn’t exactly sure what to say- because, yes, he had been-

But what in the hells was the child doing here?

“Uhm, is he here?” Astarion nodded, too dumbstruck to do much else, and then watched the girl perk up, as she caught sight of something behind him. He turned, noticed Sekh was in view, speaking with Lae’zel. The girl took off quickly, running for him, and Astarion followed, simply because he didn’t know what else to do.

He paused, a few steps away, as Sekh turned towards the commotion they were causing, eyes locking on the child as she skidded to a stop in front of him.

“Hi again! It’s me, Yenna, from earlier.”

Sekh smiled at her. It was… sweet. How his face softened, around children. Astarion had seen it, around Arabella. “Hi Yenna, I remember.”

“You were so nice to me earlier… and I haven’t found my mom. She’s probably coming back, I’m sure!” The girl paused, and then her shoulders sagged, as if the lie rang hollow even to herself. “I don’t think she’s coming back,” she admitted. Sekh reached down, placed a hand on her shoulder. Astarion knew how gentle the touch could be, how soothing. “Could I maybe stay with you? Even if it’s just for a bit.”

“Absolutely not.” Astarion spoke before he even realized. Sekh’s eyes snapped over to him, that sweet, soft smile dropping to a frown. The child flinched at Astarion’s answer, and Sekh turned his attention back to her.

“Ignore him,” he said, “of course you can stay, Yenna. You’re probably hungry, right? Let me take you to my friend Gale- he’s making dinner. I’m sure he could use another set of eyes on the cookpot.”

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” Yenna tossed her thin arms around Sekh’s waist, hugged him tightly. The drow seemed shocked for a single moment, before he returned the hug.

Seeing it, something in Astarion’s chest stirred. Something warm, yet aching.

“I have my own paring knife,” Yenna said, as Sekh guided her towards the heart of camp. “I can help cook! I’m real good, I promise.”

Astarion watched them go, before he spun on his heel, moving away quickly. Lae’zel seemed ready to say something, but he ignored her, moving for the woods.

Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, to have a child at camp! Arabella had been one thing- she’d been a spitfire, her antics back at the Grove proof enough. Besides, her fate had already seemed sealed with the grim and heartbroken. There was no more harm that could be done to her.

But… this child.

Children didn’t belong around vampires. Astarion knew that much. There was nothing good to come of it. He’d always thought so, back with Cazador, when he would see Leon’s daughter. He wondered how the man could claim to love her so, and yet kept her around the family. Couldn’t he see she would have been safest as far away from them as possible? Didn’t he know they were not allowed to have a true family- not since they cast their lot in with Cazador.

Even if, perhaps, it had been lies that brought them to their master’s side.

Astarion paused, realizing he had been nearly running, was so far from the campsites of Wyrm’s Rock that he couldn’t even make out the light of campfires or torches. He reached up, raked both his hands through his curls.

He had always felt something deeper in his gut, when he’d see Leon and his daughter. Something he hadn’t named. He’d loathed them, the sliver of normalcy they seemed to somehow harbor, despite their fate.

Alone, in the dark of night, Astarion knew the feeling did have a name.

Jealousy.

He could never have that, he’d been so sure, for the past near two centuries. He’d barely been under Cazador’s thumb when he realized everything he might have ever wanted, hoped for, was so far from his reach that he couldn’t even see the dreams anymore. How did Leon think he could have someone to love and cherish, when the rest of them couldn’t? What sort of deal had he struck with Cazador to keep his daughter-

What made him worthy of special circumstances, and not Astarion? Or the others?

Astarion closed his eyes, tried to take a steadying breath. This child- Yenna- only served as a reminder of the things he couldn’t have. Only fed the fire in him that had begun to burn, since learning of his scars. The realization that everything he might dare to want, with Sekh, was so far from his reach.

Unless…

He opened his eyes, pushed the thoughts aside. Chose instead to listen to the night, the animals around him. He’d think better on a full stomach.

He was gone far longer than he expected. By the time he made it back to camp, most of his companions had turned in. The fire had burnt out, making it seem as if the world slept.

Astarion headed for Sekh’s tent, tongue running along his fangs. He tasted so strongly of blood still, knew the drow liked that. He hoped a single kiss would drive his darling mad, would bring his pulse back to hammering, as it had that morning, when he’s brought Astarion to such bliss the vampire could still reel at the thought.

He opened Sekh’s tent, intent on simply ravishing his drow on sight- and paused. The drow was already stretched out, deep in his trance.

And not alone.

The child from earlier was stretched out, in the crook of his arm. She seemed content, asleep by his side, her cat curled up around her feet. She looked peaceful.

They both did.

Astarion stumbled back, the tent falling shut. He turned quickly, rushed across camp, towards his own. A part of him wanted to run, directly back into the woods, but he managed to stumble to his own bed roll, collapsing onto his knees.

His face felt wet. Why did his eyes hurt? Why did they burn?

He reached a hand up, brushed his fingers along his cheek. Tears. Gods above, he was crying.

A sob almost wrecked his chest then. He held it in, covered his eyes with his hand, wanted to laugh at himself. When had he last cried? Truly cried? Sure, there were sobs and tears at Cazador’s hands, at Godey’s, at his own-

But none of that pain was here, now. And yet, it felt like something had broken in him.

He settled down, pulled his knees to his chest, attempted to make himself small. Seeing Sekh at peace, looking natural with that child-

It was a look at everything the man could have. He could have the mundane, the safe, the quaint. Instead, he had Astarion.

Monstrous. Rash. Chaotic. Astarion brought nothing but sheer tumult to his life, didn’t he? And perhaps the drow enjoyed that now, made it abundantly clear that everything monstrous about Astarion excited him-

But what about when the novelty wore off? What then? What future was there with an immortal stuck to the shadows. What happiness could a vampire ever promise?

Astarion sucked at his lip, told himself to buck up. He could make the impossible a reality. He could make himself as much as man as he ever had been- and more.

He just needed to ascend.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #sekh'met #sekstarion #tavstarion #eternally yours #astarion/tav #astarion x tav

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