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"Thus effective," they replied, and kissed the head of his dick with pleasure. |
Quinn had experience in swallowing swords. It wasn't their favorite part of working with blades, but cutting the flesh that connected tongue to jaw allowed their already dexterous muscle to curl in ways that simply wasn't natural. The practice also left them with a knack for opening their throat and leaving it welcomin... |
Pulling down his foreskin, liking the removal to parting the petals of a flower, Quinn tasted the pearl of precum that greeted them before swirling their tongue along his shaft. A turn up of their chin, and as Astarion's fingers wound tight in their hair Quinn took him in full. |
Astarion hissed, his thighs bunching exquisitely. But when the Tiefling swallowed, that was when they heard the first whimper of appreciation. |
They kept their hands busy, cupping his balls in one while holding a thigh with the other. Quinn made a note to trim their nails for other, possible, future encounters and focused on the task at hand. They started a growl in their throat, aware that with their canines and deep swallow that of Astarion were to look down... |
Quinn prodded at the tadpole in their mind, at the ever present possiblity of connection to their companion, and offered to Astarion a look into just how pleasurable they found the experience. The vampire was tentative, but he accepted it, Quinntav groaning in appreciation as the waves of ecstasy overlapped. All the sa... |
Quinn had noted the confusion. The hesitation. And something there akin to what almost could be called fear. But it was dashed away quickly, the Tiefling swearing they would ask the vampire at length at a later time. Stopping then would only infuriate him. |
Quinntav was if clear of mind to try something different. To take the bond and send both impression and words along that open pathway. They repeated it like a mantra in their head, until they were certain Astarion had heard. |
"Cum for me, pretty boy." |
Astarion broke, shuddering, the white hot shot of his seed spilling down Quinntav's mouth, and they swallowed, only worsening the vampire's sensitivity. Quinn didn't stop until they were certain it had all been consumed, Astarion panting above him as they marked a path back the way they had come. |
They didn't give him time to rest. |
Quinn lifted the vampire up, the man's legs going about their waist as they sat up. As Astarion's eyes fluttered and he, no doubt, prepared a comment, Quinn reached up with tipped claws and neatly punctured the old wound in their neck. |
"You devil," the vampire growled, his good sense shot, and Quinntav grinned, tucking their blood tipped fingers into the loose waist band into his trousers. Wrapping their tail around him from behind. |
"Drink your fill of me, Astarion," they said to him, and heard his rough response: "If you insist." |
He bit down, sinking fangs into the opened wounds. Quinn's hands snaked into his trousers, finding his cock still standing at eager attention, but it was their tail that took a different route, snaking down the back, down below his tail bone. |
Astarion broke away, meeting Quinn with an upturned brow, a red mouth, but wide eyes. "You can't be serious?" |
"Is it too much?" |
"I don't know," he smirked, but that smirk was far more boyish then Quinntav knew better then to point out with his teeth so near their throat. "Let's find out!" |
Quinn pushed inside the envelope of Astarion's backside with the swoop of their tail, the vampire arching against them, fingers digging into their shoulders with careless abdomen. "Hells, that's-." He tensed, eyes shutting as they dared to turn the spade over slowly while tightening their hold on his dick, and the resu... |
But that was all the time they had, then his mouth had returned to its place at their life line and the process began anew. Quinn focused on swirling his cum around the head of Astarion's cock, moving their tail until Astarion was rutting against their hand. The feeding on their mouth could almost be called sloppy, a l... |
When the vampire came it was in a clumsily, stuttering rush, Quinn's eyes watering from the bite, their wrist aching from the work, and their tail removing itself with little preamble. They wrapped the limb around Astarion's waist to keep himself steady as he merely breathed, the usually unnecessary act made important ... |
"What in hells name was that," Astarion asked, drunk on lust and a full belly, the vampire evidently in no hurry to make distance, and thus giving Quinn the chance to begin lacing up his trousers. |
"I'm sure it has a name in one of the brothels, we can ask around." |
"And you don't want anything after fucking me into stupidity?" |
"A hug would be nice." |
"You aren't-," his denial was halted as Quinn's grin didn't break, the vampire shaking his head in tired disbelief. "You're being completely serious." |
"If that makes you uncomfortable -." |
"No," Astarion's expression flickered to genuine upset. The first untainted with physical pleasure since they ran off together into the woods. "A deal is a deal. However unusual." Still, the vampire hesitated, so Quinn took the lead. They enveloped their arms around his waist, the way they were sitting meaning they had... |
It was the first time in several years...perhaps as long as they could remember since being held like that. Quinn's eyes closed, they took a moment to breathe, and it was...absurd how much unfiltered relief sang through their muscles at so mundane a gesture it truly was. They couldn't imagine what it would be like if t... |
"I thought a carnival was about family," Astarion began, startling them from their looking shadow. "A family of oddities, but all the same." |
"Some people look at a six foot Tiefling riddled with scars and keep their distance. Even the odd ones." |
Astarion hummed. Quinntav felt a tugging at the back of their head, their hair pulled at and released...again...and again. They closed their eyes, exhaustion hitting them like a blanket tossed over a fire. |
Astarion hummed. Quinntav felt a tugging at the back of their head, their hair pulled at and released...again...and again. They closed their eyes, exhaustion hitting them like a blanket tossed over a fire. The effect had them yawning so great it caused their jaw to crack, and, unbelievably, something like a laugh fled ... |
"Has your well finally run dry, my dear?" |
"So terribly it seems," they shifted, turning with the vampire in their arms, until they could fall back into their shirt while still holding him. |
"Now, hold on," Astarion shoved himself up, hands on either side of their head, allowing Quinn an amusing sight of him scowling down at their prone form. "I am not anyone's s teddy bear, you brute." |
"Abandon me then," they tossed back their arms, sighing dramatically. "Leave me alone here in the wilderness to be devoured by devil toads." |
"I very well should," Astarion lifted up, a coldness settling over Quinntav as the approaching knowledge of being alone again was swiftly approaching them. "Yet instead I suppose I shall play the hero," he stated, and rolled over, joining them at their side. Not touching. And yet still present. |
Quinntav grinned stupidly, turning their head on the ground to face him, weaving their fingers together over their chest to stop from asking for more. " My hero." |
The vampire scoffed, closing his eyes. "Child." |
He could have that one, and if Quinn’s tail whipped lazily a bit in contentment, Astarion had the grace not to comment. |
"Dear darling lad of the silver hair, |
Heathen love of mine nightmare." |
He had to say something. Anything. It would be so easy, wouldn’t it? To say the words. |
I don’t want this |
I have no idea what I’m talking about. |
But you terrify me. |
"Hold me close, hold me near, |
lead me down to the river you fear." |
The weather was warm, the last struggling claws of summer skimming down his back, palm lengths of sunlight cupping his jaw as the faint breeze danced through his hair. A good day. A perfect day. One of only so many he had left to count. Astarion was unsure if he cared one way or another, if he had a dozen or ten thousa... |
But Quinn was singing again, and he was doing all he could to keep his attention away from the Tiefling on the riverbank. |
I need to end this. |
"The river rushing, wine-dark sweet, |
Hold out your hand, I’ll kiss thine feet." |
Insects were a buzz in the air. It was a rare afternoon where it was sticky hot enough for atrophy to settle into the muscles of his companions, guiding them into lulls of slumber, or heady meditation. As the majority lay or sat beneath the willow hugged waters, Karlach lay like a cat in the sun, Quinn soaked their fee... |
He could not seduce someone who would not be seduced. He could not intimidate one who had seen greater horrors in their mind. He could not, for one a moment, allow himself to be so utterly entranced by their very existence. |
And yet they sang, and he listened in anticipation. With fear. |
"I’ll carry you "cross shivering stream, |
If you should meet me in thousand dreams, |
If you would meet me in but a dream." |
"Pretty thing." |
Quinn turned their head, slips of dark hair slipping over their shoulders, growing longer by the day. They weren’t as far as Astarion had imagined, lost as he was in his thoughts, in his focus. It would only take a few steps to touch them. |
He hadn’t meant the song. |
"Anyone particular in mind, darling?" He had to ruin it, didn’t he? He had to tempt fate? And his voice, when had it grown so soft without the push of intent behind it. With manipulation? Where was the dagger in the silk he always kept so near at hand? |
Quinntav made to grin, Astarion watching as they stepped out of the water, taking the chance Astarion had not and settling next to him on the grass. "I’m not sure if you would believe me if I said." |
"Oh, I don’t know," playing sensually coy came easily, though unlike any of Astarion’s other victims Quinntav failed to turn into the besotted fool others tended to. Their eyes remained a reflection of their joy, near to ever present save for in moments of genuine upset. "There must be someone with pale curls about you... |
"You know too much already, I’m afraid. Astarion...does your hair not grow any longer?" |
The question struck him. Not much like a blow so much as...something he hadn’t considered in some time. Contemplating his appearance in depth wasn’t a luxury he could afford, and, truly, it wasn’t until they met this flatterer of a Tiefling before he began to be sure of the specifics. "Oh, I suppose not. Two hundred ye... |
Quinntav’s easy gaze had begun to glint in a certain way at the mention of his maker. At this, their eyes went glassy. Dangerous. "It grew back, skin and all. To perfection, I believe. As far as I have been able to summarize by observing the others, we all return to the state that we were when we died." Astarion lifted... |
Quinn glanced over the water, eyes become narrowed almonds, the Tiefling otherwise still. "You told me that you had no one in the city that you call friend. Family. Elves live for a very long time, there could be someone in the world whom bears your portrait." |
"If there is they either gave me up for dead a long time since, Quinntav, or never cared very much to begin with." |
Just as Quinntav did not whimper with the mention of his abuse, they did not flinch with Astarion’s tone. They were...so infinitely different then anyone he had ever met before. |
"And you can’t remember." They bit their bottom lip. Ah. There it was. Nerves. Yet the only time those truly appeared was-. "I could do something for you. If you would like to try," their eyes flickered to his. "If you would like to recall something." |
A moment passed. What was offered sunk in. A hollowness settled in his chest. Deep. Echoing. Pooling with dread. |
"What are you saying?" |
"As a Hunter I have an ability that allows me to see into the history of an object," their eyes flickered to a point on the side of his head. Above at his hairline. At his hair. "Hair is a dead thing. What I see is tragedy. Every time. But." Their eyes met his again. "It is memory." |
Astarion’s voice came as a hush. "You could see into my past." |
"Yes, and with our visitors’ help...so could you. We can do it together." |
"Now. Do it now ." He would not wait. He refused to wait any longer. |
Quinn lifted their hands and took a lock, using the edge of a nail, carved for breaking skin, to cut it cleanly from his head. Astarion watched, transfixed, trembling, as the Tiefling took the sample— white, shining, reflecting the light like pale silver— and tied it into a knot, before biting into a thumb. The scent o... |
Quinntav breathed in, eyes closing, and out, eyes opening. Glowing, venomously red. A moment...then they offered a palm. |
Astarion looked at it, bristling with awareness. |
A river. A golden river. A white hearted golden river. Rushing, flat, flying beneath their feet. Feet. Pattering feet. Quickly dancing, quickly running, never far enough. Laughter. They’re laughing, lungs bursting, hair catching lashes, tickling eyes. |
Me? Ma’mae, her voice echoing. Her voice fleeting. Her face? What was her face? They can’t see, all they see is light and air and limbs, too small. Far too small. It isn’t right. And the light, all around them, brimming with certainty. With impossibly. |
Me? Ma’mae, her voice echoing. Her voice trembling. Her heart, breaking. They can see, it’s grown darker now, colder now, but all that makes sense are limbs, larger. Air, harder to breathe. And the light, dimming, all around them, brimming with with responsibility. With stability. |
Me. Him, his voice echoing. His voice intensifying. His hands, hurting. They can see, it’s dark now, it feels like nothing now, and nothing makes sense, not limbs, weaker. Air, impossible to breathe. And the light. What light? Where has it gone? What happened to it? If they keep running, running, if they keep running, ... |
The bush stirred, the place where Astarion had been pressed flat, the grass there slowly unfurling from the pressure. But in his place was bird song. Stillness. Nothing. No one. The tears came fast. Hot, and fat things. Quinntav pushed them of a cheek, shoving themself to their feet. They had the knot, they reached for... |
No. Quinn shook off the threads of the Grim Psychometry from their mind. They had to find Astarion, his memories were his own, they refused to peer into them again like a pervert seeking pleasure that was not voluntarily given. |
"Mother fucker ," Quinn bit off, distracting themself from the pull with a bite to their lip and a good slap in the face from a low branch. Astarion was fucking fast, especially without his leathers, but the distance Quinn could feel between the two of them was absurd. And Astarion didn’t have air to run dry of, jus... |
Quinn was leaking sweat when they had to stop, leaning against the stumped ruin of a half wall sticking from the earth, hot saliva pooling in their mouth, gasping coming out in a wheeze from their throat. And yet they tilted their head back and yelled: "ASTARION" |
But nobody came. |
Not immediately. |
Half an hour passed before they were first found by Karlach. No one had the tracking skills Quinntav or Astarion had, this made sense. The red Tiefling found them clutching the knot like a talisman. She asked what had happened. |
Where had Astarion gone? |
Well, was he coming back? |
They hoped so . Hells they hoped so. |
The impromptu search party was their end of the day by the river. Camp was set up near it’s banks, far enough that predators could drink without being noticed slinking in the dark. Quinn out up Astarion’s tent. They debated on looking again. As they had before. They thought about waiting inside. They sat outside instea... |
The others made their rounds to ask questions. Wyll and Karlach lingered. Quinn took watch, and promised they would wake someone for the next. But they remained seated. |
His childhood. His maturity, as bare as it had been. Then his death, at the hands of that monster. Astarion had been thirty nine when he was brutalized, barely an adult. |
He did have family. A mother. |
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