#dragon gf

-You are her greatest treasure, the most precious jewel in her horde.

-She enjoys calling you the star of her collection.

-You get exclusive privileges to see everything she has in her horde of jewelry.

-There is so much and she loves every piece and will go into great details about the styles and historical significances of each one. You love listening to her talk about it.

-You’re the one who convinced her to pursue her dreams of creating jewelry.

-No need for a fireplace when your girlfriend is a walking, talking heater. (Affectionate)

-She has a pet bearded dragon named Pyro that she calls “our son”

-You like to give him extra snacks even if she insists you’re spoiling him. (you are)

-Has she accidentally set the house on fire before?

-Yes. She was allergic to something and couldn’t stop sneezing. She bought you a new house after to make up for it.

With a deep, sharp inhale, she shuts her eyes, leaning her head back. The roll of her shoulders encourages the tension to crack and pop from her spine, her wings extending naturally. She'd gotten good at forcing her change, pushing the magic through her body with all the care of a tsunami, contorting her form into another. She'd relied so long on force, on rawness, that she lost herself to it. Her payment had nearly been the loss of someone dear.

At the guidance of Halsin, that druid who'd decided to latch onto their group, instructions to take things more naturally was encouraged. To feel it. Understand it. To change without the verbal or unnatural pressure. Slipping into a headspace, like feeling the caress of a breeze over skin.

Her inability to brush off the druid previously may have been due to the fact his was a body eyes strayed to observe. Cinnamon skin with bulges of muscle, a chest like an oak, and eyes as warm as home. Exceptionally distracting. His wild shape skill, however, could be easily demonstrated multiple times.

The sorcerer had taken to mimicking how he'd preformed it, using it as a new, more natural method of her polymorph. Feel, don't force. His method was far more patient than she was accustomed.

Her fingers flexed to resemble her full form's claws, and she had begun settling her own conscious mind as Halsin had taught her. This had been only a few seconds before she could detect someone's approach.

Gravel crunching beneath steps, neither heavy nor light, and certainly not careful. This was the gait of someone confident and unbothered. Someone who wanted to be heard. The pale elf.

She sighed, bitterly irritated, lowering and relaxing her hands at her sides once more. Her eyes flicked open, falling to watch the water flow around her bare feet. With no reflection behind her as the footsteps ceased, close, but unwilling to touch the water, she was sure.

"Do you need something?" Maptiva hadn't intended the acidic tone, but her annoyance was undeniable. "Or," she tilts her head, knowing he can see her reflection rather than his own. "Did you just miss me?"

A scoff. She'd spun one of his previous greetings against him, and he wasn't dense enough to miss it.

"What ever is there to miss? A woman like you wouldn't just up and leave. You'd be back in no time." Astarion's voice is airy, despite the insult. "At least, you'd come back for me. Right, darling?"

Though his response combines bite and flirtatious, she knows he never approaches without a reason. He'd also failed to settle or relax nearby, so something was on his mind. His lingering dictated he needed it addressed now.

"If you need something, give voice. I'm trying to focus here."

He gives no evidence that he is leaving, nor does he articulate what it is. There will be no peace, it seems. Rolling her eyes, she gives in and turns to face him.

The vampire is standing awkwardly at the edge of the river, just far enough away that even the occasional splash of running water doesn't reach his new boots. Long nails are picking at the fabric of his sleeve. Astarion watches her move, slow and deliberate, absorbing how the peaking shafts of sunlight strike to paint her with such a natural stroke, like she belonged here, hidden by nature. A forbidden nymph.

Scarlet eyes widen when she gestures at him, encouraging him to speak and reminding him of the tadpole. He brushes himself of some unseen dust, and straightens, maintaining casualties. Hidden glimpses into one another weren't uncommon.

Now that he has her attention, however, Maptiva knows he'll try to charm her. She knows not just from the waltzing buzz in her mind that accompanies his excitement or questionably playful ideas and behaviour, but from the salacious smile growing on his face when their eyes meet.

"I figured perhaps, you'd be open to a little idea! Just a little tidbit. Positively trivial~" His voice has pitched higher, sweeter. He's spinning the trap. "With the whole," he mimes horns over his head with his fingers. "Dragon thing. No need for the suspicion, my dear."

Her gaze narrows, heavy wings flexing at her back. "You truly have an idea for this?"

"But of course." He crows, raising a hand to tap two fingers to the side of his head.

"The... tadpoles?" She hestitates. They'd been using them far more than the others, and it had been leaving them both with blistering migraines.

She can almost feel his purr. "Exactly! The solution is so very simple, you see. All we need to do, is make sure your wiggler listens to mine. You'll never take a bite out of anyone ever again!" He clears his throat. "On our side, anyways."

Maptiva shuffles in the water, taking in his suggestion as she always does. It is only a temporary solution. A gamble. One that would backfire if something happened to him, or he went into another blood frenzy. He would drag them both into pointless slaughter.

As if he can sense her doubt, which is highly probable, he sighs. "We should use what we have. You told me this once before. Why not at least give it a try? We never know and all~"

Reluctantly, she casts her attention back to him. His hopeful face, ears raised and eyes sparkling, and droops. "You should know why I am slow to agree."

He flutters a hand through the air. "This would only be a practice. I'm not asking you to be my pet. Although-"

She lifts a hand. "No."

Astarion clicks his tongue. "Nevertheless, why don't we just try? Just once? Miss all the shots you don't take. Or whatever."

She carries herself out of the water, sloshing it around her feet before she brings herself right up to him. With her wings stretched, she is easily far larger than him, though the spawn reveals no signs of intimidation. Maptiva eyes him, his profile as dandy as managable in these woods, and how pleased he seems to be to at least keep her attention. He's akin to a persistant merchant.

"So if I agree to this 'temporary wrangling', you are certain you can control me? Alone?" Her voice pitches low, a warning.

He swallows, but maintains eye contact, unwavering. "Who else knows you better here than I?"

Maptiva curls a lip, but knows the display of teeth will do nothing for him. "One day. You have one chance to prove you can do it." When a grin breaks out over his face, she bares her teeth again. "Fail and I am not responsible for your sudden disappearance."

"You can trust me~ That hasn't changed." He takes a step back, gesturing for her to change. "Shall we start at once?"

Maptiva pinches the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. She'd much rather handle the magic herself, but if her vampire desired to be humored so badly, she'd give him this one shot. Retreating back to the river, she eases her mind back to the well of magic within her, encouraging it to rise up and spread through her limbs.

A dancing pearly glow extended to her every limb, pulsing and twisting until her body no longer stood bipedal. A dull ache formed in her bones, and within a moment, the vicious mass of a white dragon was her replacement. Her limbs were stronger, sturdier. Her horns longer, and directed backward and away from her face; as if framing it entirely. Talons sank into silt, sand and river mud, that serpentine tail whipped out behind her, sending water flying in the opposite direction. Muscular wings shuttered upon her back, heavy and skilled enough to raise her new form to heights others could only wish for.

Her nostrils flared, senses empowered, and finally, the beat of her heart was steady. Her focus calmed. She was aware of her own thoughts. For now.

Astarion shifts below, belittled by her. As her vision clears, she is able to catch childish eagerness in those expressive eyes. In the twitch of his ears. There is an insistent tickle in the back of her skull, the tadpole, as he wastes no time in reaching out to her.

'All is well?' His telepathic voice is clear. The spell seemed to have no fog over her perception of their communication.

She raises her head, high above his own, and huffs. A part of mind thinks to ignore the spawn, make him squirm, yet she cannot brush away her innate curiosity. 'Much. This is how things should be.'

He paces just below her, fingers rubbing below his chin. 'Is it difficult to focus on me?'

Her gaze drops to him, and the seam of her mouth creases upward, a draconic smile. 'And if I said yes?'

'I would be quite insulted.' He tilts his head back, peering up at her. He's likely aware that she is teasing. 'Alright then, let's give this a try.'

Maptiva clenches her jaw, his suggestion painting itself into her mind, an image for her to copy, its weight like gravity forcing down on her. She knows from what he has shared, what she sees in her mind, what he wants. She just hadn't expected his psionic command to be so intense so suddenly.

Giving in, she shifts her weight unto her hind legs, curling her tail around her left side. Her forelegs leave rends in the sand as she pulls them back against her abdomen, leaving her sitting before him... like a dog. The suggestion had been simple, so she had humored him. Though realizing how she appeared was less than flattering. It would be mortifiying if one of the others wandered close. She was not some circus animal.

He hums, and she knows he has felt her discomfort. 'Was that difficult?'

She slides her eyes away from him. His boldness failing to gain favor. 'No. Let me guess, you want to pet me next? Maybe make me fetch?'

His laughter is her reward, but he does wiggle his fingers. 'Would that even be allowed?'

Her head lowers, expression hardened. 'Do you want to find out?'

She watches him tense, his thoughts a swirl of quick exits if she were to snap for him, but his cocky swagger returns when she makes no move to do so. 'I think perhaps not today.'

'Regardless,' she drops her head his level. 'Be more firm if we are in battle. This form changes my mindset to something more instinctual, and your voice will become muffled and distant.'

He nods, though his fingers lift curiously when she presents herself in range. She can feel his desire to touch her. To feel the ridges of her draconic face, can sense his wonder at how her scales must be so smooth, so cool.

A puff of air from her mouth is all it takes to blow his hair askew. He's quick to fly his fingers into the strands and arrange it once again. With his distraction, she shoves her nose forward, bumping into his chest and skidding the man backwards. His muscles jump under her, and his hands instinctively slap down onto her nose. He freezes then, and his tadpole whirling furiously to understand the meaning of her action.

'Just get it out of your system.' She lifts the seam of her mouth, the hint of a dragon's smile. Her encouragement brings forth an incredulous chuckle of childish joy from the vampire, and he smooths his pale hands over her chilled scales.

"Centuries..." he mutters, lost to his own wonder as those hands slide over the curve of her nose, under her chin, and along the seam of her mouth. "And never anything like this."

Maptiva remains quiet, sensing a fragile wonder that could be all too easily shattered. It doesn't take him more than a moment before he has relaxed, she can feel it in the weight of his hands, in how he leans in, laying his chest on her nose to reach higher. Petting her. He was like a young boy with his first dog. The sheer emotion in those intense eyes, she almost felt embarrassed, shy, even. This was somehow more intimate than anything she'd ever done with him before...

Her eyes shuttered closed when he'd managed to wiggle himself up, straddling her face. Curious, cold hands stroking over the hard ridges of her eyes, Astarion seemed lost in his exploration, shifting his body and pressing into her. Bold. Foolish.

The spawn's tadpole remained ever in action, whispering his awed thoughts to her. She was amazing to him. Exotic. Powerful. Beautiful. The tip of her tail twitched, flicking contently in the water behind her. Her chest expanded, warming as her heart pounded; if she could, she'd be flushed from his attention.

For a moment, the sorcerer forget herself. The dragon was enamored with her adoring toy, its persistent glorification of her perfection was only to be expected. She was a magnificent beast, primal power from nose to tail, and it should be so lucky to be within her grace. Just this once, she should reward the pitiful creature.

Raising herself to stand, she felt how the vampire quickly panicked, changing from wonder to fear. He was right to fear her, but not like this. This would be a reward! She would show this tiny land based lifeform the sky. Then, he could praise her more. Worship at her very feet!

Pathetic claws scrambled for purchase as she leaned her head back, the action delicate, but enough to send the creature skidding forward down her neck. She heard his hiss, mutters of language she didn't care to recognize, as he righted itself, latching into the webbed spines adorning the long length of her powerful neck in desperation. She could feel his trembling against her scales. Or perhaps he was growling? He was so small. She couldn't tell.

Heavy, leathery wings unfurled in the clearing, the sound as if she'd shaken a ship's sails. With one final check, she was certain the adoring, now frightened being, still clutched at her neck. Her mouth opened, crushing teeth on full display. "I will show you the sky."

Whether or not he understood, she felt a wave of panic through her skull. Frustrated, she hissed, rearing up regardless.

'Listen to me!' His voice snarled within her mind. A hard slap against the side of her neck that she actually felt accompanies the command. 'Don't you DARE try to take flight with me. You know I despise it!'

She grits her teeth. Rage and indignance flood within. Her plans to awe him further are yet again trampled by his own fears.

'SIT!' The command races through her. It's painful. It's a roar in her mind that sends her legs to trembling, staggering in the water.

Her maw widens, cryofluid seeping between teeth and dripping into the water. How dare Astarion ruin her fun. He was but a worm to her like this! She had been willing to offer kindness! Wings remaining flared, she kicks herself upward unto her hind legs, violently rolling her neck to dislodge him as punishment.

Impossibly, his pitiful claws and tenacity keep him in place. A tick upon her scales. A snarl builds from within, and with it, she whips her head back. The impact of her horns to her back, an echoing thud, is all that comes from it. She writhes now, enraged with the situation. He's slippery, defying her at every turn.

'Dammit all,' the voice comes again, crawling in her mind. '...Me! Not a bloody tick!'

The next command burns. It's agony, liquid and brutal through her limbs. In a pitiful display, she cries, the noise rippling the water and shaking the trees before crumpling unto the river. Her weight shakes the earth beneath, displacing water, mud, and gravel galore, her head splashing ungracefully into the cold.

It's then she feels no weight upon her neck. Finally. The rat bastard deserves no reward for turning her down. Her muscles tremble under scale. Her brain feels like it's pulsing, squeezing itself within, as it often is after ever prolonged use. It's slow, but her clarity returns, and she realizes her position. A puddle of shaky limbs smothered in mud, river water filling her nose.

She feels... disgusting. Humiliated. Insulted.

A wheezing coughing greets her awareness, and in her pitiful attempt to shake mud and water; realizes Astarion must still be near. Her memory is quick to fill in the blanks as she gazes down between her forelegs. There, just barely brushed by water, but no less caked in mud, is the pale elf.

She wants to laugh. He is curled into himself, cradling his right hand to his chest and wheezing. His coughs wrack his entire body, splattering water from his doused hair about him. Widened, panic wary eyes study her as she shifts to look him over. He doesn't flinch, but he does manage to look akin to a wet cat. Flustered and enraged.

'I'm sorry.' She manages, nosing herself a bit closer. 'Were you burned?'

He's silent. Even his tadpole. His hand shakily removes from his chest as he pats himself over. His leather armor is in no less condition than he arrived, and most of him had been covered by it when he'd gotten wet. Save for his hair, which she can see him grimace at the state of it, matted and stuck to his scowling face.

Allowing her polymorph to drop, Maptiva carefully moves out of the river, careless for her own waterlogged state. She wrings out parts of her robe, watching him from the corner of her eye. At most, the vampire seems to be only dirty. Still, shame trickles down her spine. She knew better than to try to fly with him again, but she'd done it anyways. Maybe she truly was just a cold-hearted beast. Maybe the anger of the man in her dreams was righteous?

Regardless, this conclusion was her fault. She would not put blame on Astarion. Despite how "well" he'd managed to stop her, she could have killed him if he'd landed in the river. He was unused to dragons, unused to so many things. He was cocky and foolish, and she was far too eager. She was only making things worse.

Crouching down next to him, she held out her hands, palm up. "Hey. Are you with me?"

A hiss. He bares a fang at her. "Obviously. I haven't faded away just yet." Another irritated swipe through his hair. "Though, I may as well. I feel positively ragged after the assumption I'd be tormented by flight once again."

She sits back on her feet. "You were on my back. You rode me. Wrangled me good. For but a single, ungrateful moment."

He snorts, casting his gaze away to swipe at mud on his leg. "And here you said I wasn't worthy."

She chuckles, patting his shoulder. "You almost were! Maybe next time a little saddle for you?"

He curls a lip, somehow made even more ridiculous by his appearance, and she can only laugh harder. "Yes. Hardy har har. Forgive me for trying to tame the wild woman you are."

"Is that what you were doing?" She says, incredulously, shaking her head. Splatters of water fly from her hair. "I could've sworn you wanted to control a dragon. Didn't you say this was 'trivial'?"

His nose wrinkles, but his eyes seek hers again. The rogue more relaxed now that she's talking to him, though his fingers clench over his knees. "It wasn't a failure. I never had any doubt."

She pauses; quirking a doubtful brow at him.