And Just Like The Rain (You Cast The Dust Into Nothing)
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Lokeil was nothing but a pool of oil and Astarion a precariously lit matchstick. Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous. This wasn’t what he needed, but gods did he want. Lokeil wondered if he might find that same calmness Astarion granted him with a bite if he only stayed under the weight of the man’s gaze forever.
He’d worship on his knees if that were to be the case.Series
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Quiet. Lokeil had to be quiet. They were out in the open here, and if anyone heard… if anyone came to investigate…
“Always so bloodthirsty,” Astarion whispered, fangs grazing his ear. “It’s a wonder how you can sound this debauched.”Series
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It should have been terrifying how easily Lokeil could hand control over in each desperate attempt to claw some of it back. But Astarion’s words, his fangs, his touch seemed to have a way of drawing Lokeil back to reality when his own mind wore the edges of it blurry and unrecognizable. Those visions, those sharp serrations that sunk themselves behind his eyes and willed his hands to sin, they couldn’t compare to seeing his own blood on Astarion’s lips.
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Lokeil stayed rooted where he stood, the uneasiness of the artifact feeling more like his own. If what he dreamt about was real, if what his butler told him was as true as it felt, he wasn’t sure he wanted to remember. When he felt wrong in the morning, that otherness creeping in from the back of his head to the tips of his fingers and vestiges of memory flitting just out of his grasp, it took him hours to get reacquainted with the version of himself he was trying to be.
A cold hand wrapped around the base of his tail and pulled.
“You’re thinking so hard it’s giving me a headache,” Astarion said. “Stop it.”
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A minor detour to the githyanki creche, Karlach encourages a bit of pretend, and a quick romp outside camp.Series
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“Finally with me, I see.”
“I never left."
“That’s where you’re wrong. You left me behind today–for foolish reasons I might add–because you don’t seem to realize that I am only ever safe with you. You left, to gods knows where, the second we got a moment to ourselves. You. Keep. Leaving.” Sharp nails dug into the wound at his side, and Lokeil hissed. “This wouldn’t have happened had I been there.”
Astarion’s head dipped down, tongue licking a line up the cut and digging in to split the skin and make it weep. Lokeil shuddered underneath him, his hand tangling in those soft curls and tugging if only to have something to do with his hands. It hurt, hells it stung, but when Astarion’s hand cupped him through his trousers Lokeil was weak to do anything but moan.
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Lokeil loses himself at the Grymforge. Astarion has a bone to pick with him.Series
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“Hands above your head, my love.”
Slowly, Lokeil raised his hands up, crossing his wrists together. Astarion watched him closely through hooded eyes, hunger swirling red and heavy in his gaze. For his blood or for him, Lokeil was never sure. Something cold, hardly solid, wrapped around Lokeil’s wrists, and when he tilted his head up he could barely see the blue wisps of magic above him.
“What are you doing?” Lokeil asked, twisting his arms, and he felt the mage hand tighten in response.
“Making sure you listen."
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Traveling in the Shadowlands, inappropriate use of mage hand, and a very unwanted visit from Sceleritas Fel.Series
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“I thought we had a decent arrangement. Is it romance you want, my love? Did you want me to fawn over you? Promise to hold and cherish you? And here I thought you were a little more interesting than that.”
“I don’t want anything from you, least of all anything you don’t want to give. You want my protection, my loyalty, my blood? Then take it.”
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Made it to Last Light Inn, but that hardly means Lokeil has avoided trouble.Series
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"Take off your shirt and lie down.”
"I’m not in the mood, Astarion.”
“What a coincidence, neither am I.” Astarion pulled a jar out from the pack at his hip. “The druid is insufferable at the best of times, but he does have his wealth of uses. He managed to pull his attention away from that blathering nutcase for a few moments to mention a less magical remedy for you. Now, shirt off and on your stomach.”
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Lokeil struggles with his previous injury. Astarion helps.Series
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“I didn’t come out here to make polite conversation.”
Lokeil reached up to pull his wet hair away from his neck, staring into the glowing fungi so hard his eyes started to water. Anything to keep him from twisting around and doing something that might drive Astarion away. Kissing him, holding him, those were fantasies best left until Lokeil was alone in his tent. “Then don’t.”
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A little bit of an intermission from the current timeline of this series. Set back in the Underdark.
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“Don’t pretend if the roles were reversed that someone would come to my rescue.”
“I would.”
“We can’t all be bleeding hearts, not that I would call you one myself. You do a fine job at pretending for every stranger we meet, love, but don’t think the rest of us have forgotten about that poor bard. Don’t take the moral high ground when yours is drenched with blood.”
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Moonrise Towers offers Lokeil more questions than answers, and Astarion gets injured when plans go awry.
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Astarion’s breath shook, cold against Lokeil’s neck. The scent of his perfume made Lokeil’s mouth water. Notes of bergamot and rosemary that should have been a balm against the anxiety that toiled in him, but only made the thing inside him hungrier. Lokeil wound a hand through Astarion’s hair, scraping his claws gently on his scalp as he pulled him closer.
For a moment, just a second, his hand tightened.
He’d make a pretty corpse. Body stiff, eyes cloudy, white curls dyed crimson with blood.
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THE Act 2 resist durge scene
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