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Crimson eyes study you, then the object you’re holding. He places his hands on his hips, head cocked to the side with a raised brow. "Is |
what you’ve dragged us all the way here for?" |
"First of all," you waggle a finger at him, "You’re |
grumpy when you’re tired. I’ll have to make a note to prioritize your beauty rest. Second, I haven’t finished looking around, but check this out." |
You hand the bar to him as you stand. The cool skin of his fingers brush against your own, and you’re irritated with the way your heart skips at the brief contact. Why did the |
man you found attractive in your camp have to be such a primadonna? And such a huge pain in the ass? |
Astarion’s eyes scan over the textured paper with suspicion, angling it towards the light to get a better look. The golden wrapping is stamped with an image of red lips On the back, letters twist and curve in a language you don't recognize, following a single circular pattern where they meet in the center. You’ve never... |
"Where did you find this?" |
You shrug, then point to the pile next to you. "It was buried right there." |
He silently stares at the foil, mouth pursed, until your patience begins to wear thin. |
"Well, can you read it or not?" |
His nose scrunches. "Of course I can’t read it. It’s written in Infernal." |
That’s... odd. Why would an ordinary apothecary sell goods made by devils? Or, worse, |
devils. Unless, of course, it was some sort of marketing trick, perhaps a play on the phrase "sinfully sweet’, or some other cringeworthy branding. |
You take it back, turning it over in your hands before tearing at the corner of the wrapping. It's sectioned into dark, rich squares, and smells indisputably like chocolate. |
"It looks like candy." |
observation." he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now, can we go? We’ve spent more than enough time here already." |
You roll your eyes and stuff it into your bag, setting off for camp, vampire in tow. |
During dinner, you decide not to tell the others about what you found, knowing Astarion’s likely already forgotten the event. You set down your empty plate, thanking Gale for tonight’s meal. He smiles at you and bids you goodnight as you excuse yourself to your tent. |
You pick up your rucksack, thinking fondly of the dessert that awaits you inside. Having lived at the beck and call of your companions for weeks on end, you can’t help but smile at the idea of selfishly indulging in a small treat like this. |
You tear open the rest of the wrapping and snap off one of the squares, immediately popping one into your mouth. It melts - buttery in texture, with a smokey, slightly bitter flavor. You can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten something so rich. Maybe weeks of the same rations have made you easier to impress, but thi... |
As you break off a second piece, a strange tingling sensation begins to spread across your lips - a pleasant buzzing that starts at your neck and spreads down through your chest. |
Strange, but not entirely unwelcome. You’ve heard of such inebriating chocolates, ones laced with alcohol or species of flowers that numb one’s senses for a short while. All harmless, of course, and you don’t have watch tonight. You may as well enjoy yourself. If worst comes to worst, Shadowheart is just outside with a... |
It only takes you minutes to finish half the bar. You set the rest next to your bedroll for later and turn to blow out your candles, enjoying the lingering physical effects of the chocolate. Your skin feels flushed and delightfully warm as you settle down for the night. |
When sleep finally takes you, it's dreamless, at first. Your consciousness sways, floating in an empty abyss, until colors begin to bleed onto the blank canvas of your mind. |
A trickle of red morphs into the shape of familiar eyes, piercing you with their intensity.. |
Droplets of white spatter over a dark background, diffusing, blending into whisps. They curl and twist before settling into soft, coiffed fibers. |
, you recognize immediately, |
His image fully takes form, as if it had been waiting for you to make the connection before entirely revealing itself. |
He reaches out and seizes you, grabbing |
at your hips as you crash into his body, hands exploring you - tight, possessive, squeezing at every inch of exposed skin before settling on the curve of your ass. He digs into your flesh with the blunt edge of his nails. |
His lips press hot, wet kisses to your throat, mouthing just below the ear, before dragging his tongue along your nape and sucking, |
. You whine at the pressure, eliciting a grin from the elf, so characteristically pleased with the pathetic little noise he’s managed to pull from you. |
"You thought sleeping would allow you to escape this - to escape |
, unscathed?" He growls against your skin, his voice almost unrecognizable - as if it’s layered beneath a lighter, somehow more |
"No, no, no. Wake up, darling. You’re in for a |
You startle awake, |
- loud, labored breaths struggling to make use of the unbearably thin air. The edges of your tent bleed in and out of focus, spinning at a nauseating pace as you attempt to recollect yourself. |
You wipe at the sweat collecting on your brow, the muscles of your arm heavy and aching, and find that your skin is absolutely |
Hot. Why is everything so hot? |
It's as if you're being cooked alive beneath your blankets, strangled beneath the furs. You throw them off; normally soft to the touch, the fibers now only worsen the prickling beneath your skin. |
Could this be some sort of illness? A fever? |
No, this doesn’t make sense. Everything feels off. |
Fleeting thoughts of Astarion cross your mind - quick flashes of a sinful smile that was not his own. |
It didn’t quite match the one you’d silently come to admire, and now that you think of it, the hunger in his gaze was much too intense for the reserved elf. |
His hands, his mouth, the way he touched you - |
Your abdomen cramps, bringing your thoughts to a screeching halt. |
A stabbing, visceral pain; a knife plunging into your organs. It |
you, forces your body to curl into itself. You hold your pelvis, grunting, and grasp at your sheets. Tears sting the corner of your eyes. |
- well, you have no idea what this is. |
You can’t think past the pounding in your head, the |
in your midsection. You're compulsively twisting, writhing, begging the gods for some sort of reprieve, but it's then when you make the most mortifying discovery of the night. |
ot just your smallclothes, which |
have been understandable given your strange dreams, but through your damned pants. Not even the |
"What in the hells...?" |
You run your fingers over yourself, only intending to confirm the horrifying reality of your situation - that this is not, in fact, some sick, perverted nightmare, but the lightest touch sets off |
at the sensation: one massive wave of bliss giving way to several small jolts of pain. |
Pleasure to the point of |
The shock of the sudden orgasm courses from your sex through every limb, clenching and releasing pitiful, warm slick. It leaks freely out of you into your already thoroughly |
Your heart pounds. You stay like that for what feels like a lifetime, toes curled, limbs twitching, waiting for your body to settle. |
After a minute or so, your breathing evens, and the thick haze surrounding your thoughts begins to lift just slightly, along with the suffocating heat. |
But something within you knows this isn’t the end - knows this isn’t |
. A desperation lurks beneath the surface that you can’t quite name. It |
A familiar, feminine voice prods at your mind. You quickly recognize her, the woman from your dreams who wore Astarion’s image. |
"All alone, are we? Empty and needing to be filled? Doesn’t that hurt?’ |
It does. It aches unlike anything you’ve ever known. The lingering buzz of your orgasm just barely quells the worsening cramps, and they’re beginning to rear their ugly head again not minutes later. |
You choke out a sob. "Wh- why are you doing this? What do you want?" |
Sharp, wicked laughter fills your head, echoing off the walls of your skull. |
"I’m not doing anything, dear. Just enjoying the show.’ |
"I told you, it’s going to be a very long night.’ |
You must be hallucinating. This fever - whatever |
is, is simply cauterizing your senses, or possibly interacting with the tadpole? But the tadpole doesn’t speak, not like this. Never so clearly. Not with words. |
Think, please. There has to be a reason this - |
"Is everything alright?" Shadowheart raps on the canvas of your tent. "I heard a yelp. Are you hurt?" |
"Ooh, this one might do!" |
You feel an unwelcome... |
No. No. Absolutely not. |
You try not to panic. |
Under no circumstances should she or anyone else come in here. |
The best strategy may be to ignore her - pretend you’re still sleeping. It seems like a good plan, but before you have a chance to follow through with it, another sharp contraction hits. This one is somehow even |
than the ones before. |
You pull your sheets up to your mouth to stifle your whine, but the half elf’s ears are sharper than most. "I’m coming in." |
She opens the flap to your tent and gasps when she sees you there - skin flushed pink, doubled over and |
"Gods, what’s wrong? What’s happened?" Her hand reaches out towards you. |
Without thinking, you swat it away with your own. Your skin |
at the contact, and the essence of a smile crosses over the threshold into your mind. The intruder giggles with satisfaction. |
"Don’t," you plead, "Don’t touch me." |
She scans over you, taking in your humiliating state. Her face twists with concern. "I need to know if you’re feverish. Please. You look awful." |
"Well, I think you look delectable.’ |
At this point, you know it’s no use fighting this |
on your own. You go back and forth on whether you want to tell her the whole truth, about the voice in your head and its influence on your body, but the idea mortifies you into silence. |
Regardless, a cleric is likely your best chance of fixing this literal mess, so you nod, close your eyes, and brace yourself. |
Shadowheart’s palm meets your forehead. It’s somehow |
than you anticipated. Even the simple, chaste touch sends you reeling, as if her soft hands are caressing your entire body. Flashes of heat wash over you, burning your skin, threatening to pull you back under another wave of ecstasy. |
It’s too much. You try your hardest to suppress a moan, but the muffled sound manages to escape from between your tightened lips, pitiful and broken. |
The disembodied voice |
She quickly retracts her hand, clearing her throat. "Apologies. I can confirm your temperature is... elevated, but the rest..." She shakes her head. "I’ve never seen anything like this." |
You want to scream, cry - |
to release your frustration, but you keep your mouth shut, not wanting to risk making any more unsavory noises. |
"I believe I can give you some relief by treating the fever, but I’ll have to consult the others on the rest. This doesn’t look like any ordinary sickness." |
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