aberrant-annie

[aberrant-annie]

Unreleased Loki promo shots for the Avengers 2012

[aberrant-annie]

Worth the Peril

Summary: In another life, Astarion would have made a decent barbarian. Despite Karlach’s cheerful demeanor, for the most part, barbarians were known to be violent, brutal, and cruel. All things that Astarion could easily tap into if the situation called for it. And right now, he was entering a rage. OR Upon arriving in the Underdark, you go down in a battle, leaving Astarion to pick up the pieces.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ (no smut) Word count: 15.1k CW: reader gets hurt - violence, severe injury, blood, descriptions of wound, depictions of pain, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, protective Astarion, blind with rage Astarion, soft Astarion, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), everyone else sees what Astarion can't Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.) Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 5 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find the masterlist here.

a/n: SHE'S HERE!! I am SO excited to be finally be posting the newest chapter of Beauty and the Bard! Thank you so much for your patience as I was sorting this one out. I've always been a huge fan of the hurt/comfort trope and the "Person A gets hurt and Person B loses it" trope, so this is my take on both of those tropes in one! Did I fudge the numbers of the Duergar fight in the Underdark from Act One? Yes. Did I fudge the numbers in terms of injury severity and what's actually possible through magical healing? Also yes! But in a world where a skeleton will bring you back from the dead for $200, OR, simply sleeping a full eight hours will heal you completely, I think I was able to make it make sense. Hopefully. Apologies to anyone working in the medical field who knows I'm a sham. But this is a series about smooching a vampire, so we gotta suspend our disbelief somewhere! There's no smut in this chapter, and for that, I apologize, but it'll make sense why it doesn't. If it helps, my beta says that this is her favorite chapter to date! Woo! Please enjoy. (Thank you to my beta @kermitwazowski for reading! - Also! She just got married! And a tiktok from it went viral! We love her, she's the best.) As a reminder, last time, you and Astarion had a little romp in the river while watching the sunrise.

Taglist: Moved to the comment section, since tumblr hates sharing fun with friends - please let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!

Barring a few dirty looks from Shadowheart and Lae’zel, your return to camp with Astarion - both of you now vaguely damp - was largely ignored in favor of packing up camp in preparation for venturing into the Underdark. So long as you were both there to help with the pack up efforts, it didn’t really matter where the two of you had spent your morning. 

Astarion squeezed your hand fondly before sauntering over to his tent to loiter and drag his feet until the camp was mostly all packed away. You knew his game; look busy without actually lifting a finger until it was absolutely necessary. You rolled your eyes before bending to gather and organize the loot in your tent. He was so annoying.

Gods, you hated him.

And you loved him.

Why, of all people, did you have to fall in love with the emotionally stunted, incredibly dramatic, freak weirdo vampire? Wyll was perfectly nice! Shadowheart had a good head on her shoulders! And yet…

Your eyes flicked over to his tent momentarily. 

He wasn’t even trying. He was fully looking at his nails. He looked up briefly and met your eye. He smirked before moving his hand to wave at you delicately with his fingertips. 

“Pack,” you called to him from across camp.

“What?” He cupped a hand to his ear as if he couldn’t hear you from the relatively short distance away. “You’ll have to speak up, darling! Or, better yet-”

He left his tent and made his way over to yours.

“Oooh, no,” you scolded and pointed towards his tent. “Get back over there and pack, you jackass.”

“Ouch, love,” Astarion squatted beside you. He looked around your tent at the trinkets you’d accumulated and picked one up, rotating it in his hands. A tiny statue of a mermaid, her face sculpted in midsong. “Heavy little bugger,” he said, testing its weight in his hands.

“It’s made of iron, I think,” you said. 

“And you’re going to make us lug it into the Underdark? Rather selfish of you, don’t you think?”

You snatched the figure out of his hands. “Can I help you with something, Astarion?”

He spread out his legs and leaned back against a chest you kept close-by. “Not particularly.” He rested his arms behind his head, very clearly trying to flex his arms to keep your attention on him.

You laughed and pushed him, making him fall sideways. “Stop trying to distract me and go pack your own stuff up. I will not help you when you’re inevitably scrambling later.”

“Yes, you will,” he said, using your shoulder to help himself stand up. He squeezed it once before heading back in the direction of his tent. 

“No, I won’t!” you called after him, but he turned and cupped his hand to his ear again, pretending he couldn’t hear you. You groaned loudly and continued packing. 

“Hate to say it, Soldier,” said Karlach, whose tent was set up between yours and Astarion’s, “but you probably will help him.”

You sighed heavily. “I know.”

~~~~~

It hadn’t been as bad as you thought.

You’d had the foresight to keep your belongings relatively close together, making use of the traveler’s chest you all shared. Once you’d gathered all your possessions and dismantled your tent, you placed everything you couldn’t carry on your person into the chest. Karlach had helped Halsin lift the trunk, full to the brim with everyone’s overflow, into an ox wagon that you all planned on taking with you to the ruined goblin camp and down into the Underdark below. Even Astarion had managed to gather most of his things before inevitably earning your help with a bat of his eyes.

It had taken maybe two hours total, but looking around the area that you had called home for the last few weeks, it was as if your party had never been there to begin with. It was a little sad to be leaving, but you were pleased with the progress you all had made and were ready to keep moving forward in order to get these damn worms out of your skulls.

The trek into the Underdark, meanwhile, was long and frustrating; Gale had to cast Feather Fall on half of your team, the ox cart, and Scratch and the Owlbear cub, while the other half of you used the deceptively long ladder down into the abandoned Selunite outpost below - much to Shadowheart’s dismay. 

Much to Astarion’s dismay, you’d actually stumbled upon a colony of Miconids after bumbling through a battle with a pair of minotaurs and looking for a place to rest. It was there that you spoke with the head of their colony, Sovereign Spaw, about eliminating a clan of Duergar dwarves threatening their population.

Which was how you now found yourself smugly walking beside Astarion as Gale and Shadowheart led the way towards the supposed Duergar hideout. The rest of your party had (begrudgingly, in the case of Lae’zel) agreed to help Halsin set up camp close to the Miconids and their beautiful glowing mushrooms, and had stayed behind.

“You must wipe that stupid expression off your face, darling,” Astarion rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Otherwise you might get stuck like that.”

“I told you they were real.” You waggled your eyebrows in victory.

“And their music was far less irritating than yours,” he teased. “So I suppose that was nice.”

“Bastard,” you muttered. “I’d love to play something with them when we get back.”

“You would.”

“Ass hat.”

“Loud mouth.”

“Would you two shut it?” Gale turned and quietly shouted. “We’re swiftly approaching the Duergar clan, according to Sovereign Spaw’s directions.”

“I still think we should have rested for the evening,” Astarion complained. “A specimen such as myself requires copious amounts of beauty sleep.”

You withheld a yawn, willing the vampire not to see it. You were still tired from your lack of sleep this morning, and your romp in the river. Not to mention the hike to get down here, and the minotaurs you’d already faced. You were able to get a short rest in at the colony, but you were definitely feeling it, and you didn’t want to worry your teammates. Plus you knew Astarion would never let you hear the end of it, given his protests about it earlier today.

“Enough, Astarion,” Shadowheart groaned. “You heard Spaw; the Duergar are a looming threat to their colony. We couldn’t risk a possible ambush in the night. Especially with all the refugees seeking shelter there.”

Astarion sighed. “And, I suppose I must admit, I like the sovereign’s approach. A little genocidal, but effective.”

“Yes, great, you’ll get your fill of blood, now would you hush!” Gale halted, causing the rest of you to stop, too. “Something’s wrong.”

You surveyed your surroundings. Wooden structures stood decaying all around, from bridges, to long forgotten buildings, and nets once used for ladders. It had probably been home to a village of people at one time.

“Looks abandoned,” you supplied.

Off in the distance you could make out a lake through some fog. Boats rocked gently against a worn looking dock, illuminated by purple crystals that populated the area. That must be the lake that Spaw had described. But wait… were those-? Lit torches?

You were about to take a step forward to investigate further, but Astarion held out an arm to block you. 

“I smell a trap,” he warned.

Suddenly an arrow shot past your ear and landed in a wooden post behind you.

“That’s quite a sense of smell you have,” Gale quipped, prepping a spell in his hands. “Think you could sniff out where that arrow came from?”

Your eyes frantically searched the area but couldn’t make anything out. 

“Duck!” Shadowheart shouted, as a flaming arrow seemed to appear out of thin air and hurdle towards your party. 

You hit the deck, lifting your head ever so slightly in the direction where the arrow came flying from. A figure appeared out of nowhere as you watched, taking a step to the side to hide behind a wall. That explained it.

“Our attackers are using an Invisibility spell,” you said quietly. “If we can get them to attack us, we can break the spell and see them clearly before they have the chance to cast it again.”

“Sounds fairly dangerous,” Gale muttered, holding a hand to his chin in thought.

“Do you have any better ideas?” Shadowheart whispered, pulling her shield and morning star off of her back. 

“Not really,” Gale said after thinking for a moment. 

Astarion, meanwhile, had already unsheathed his daggers. “Let’s spill some blood.” A wicked grin graced his features. 

“Let’s think about this for a second,” you said, holding out an arm to block him from getting up and feeling him deflate. You peered around the large rock that you and your companions had ducked behind. Platforms were littered throughout the decrepit village, perfect for you all to spread out. Quietly, you removed your lute and your backpack. 

“Now’s not really the time to serenade us with a sappy love song, dearest,” Astarion said, his eyes on your loose lute that he’d recently gifted you. 

“Shut up, and take this,” you said, handing him a scroll of Misty Step that you pulled out of your bag. You handed one to Shadowheart as well. “Gale, how are you doing on magic?”

Gale flexed his hands, the purple of the Weave sparking at his fingertips. “Good enough to take out a few dwarves, I’d say. But I have my crossbow if necessary.”

You nodded and turned to Shadowheart. “You?”

She nodded back at you. “I should have enough for some healing if anyone needs it, but I’ll stick to cantrips if I can.”

You nodded again, thinking deeply. “Okay, our magic is running kind of low, so we have to be smart about this.”

Astarion cleared his throat. “Aren’t you going to ask me about my magic, darling?”

Shadowheart laughed humorlessly. “Oh, please. As if you won’t rely entirely on those knives of yours.”

He scoffed. “I’ll have you know, I’m also very skilled with a bow.”

You sighed. “I’m sorry we couldn’t rest more before we had to do this.”

“The life of a hero is not an easy one,” Gale pointed out. “One cannot always put their feet up by the hearth when lives are at stake.”

“Speak for yourself,” Astarion rolled his eyes. 

“What’s the plan?” Shadowheart asked you. “We might want to hurry, given they know our location and we don’t know theirs.”

“I was thinking we all cast Misty Step,” you turned back around to look over the boulder and pointed to the various empty structures, “and land on those platforms.”

“Ah, the high ground! Very logical,” Gale nodded in approval.

“But do we want to be out in the open? They’ll shoot at us and we won’t have any cover.” Shadowheart raised a good point.

“I’ll cause a distraction,” you said, “no worries.”

Astarion clicked his tongue. “I hate the sound of that.”

“What do you mean?! I’m great at distractions!”

Rather than responding, Astarion hummed skeptically. Then he leaned forward to kiss you sweetly. “I’m going to go kill some dwarves now.” With that, he unfurled the scroll, recited “inveniam viam,” and you watched as he disappeared and reappeared on a platform hidden in darkness. You lost sight of him as he vanished into the shadows and turned back to face Gale and Shadowheart.

“Be smart with your magic, and be safe.” Both of them nodded wordlessly at you and prepared to cast Misty Step. You picked up your lute and stood up straight. “See you on the other side,” you winked and started descending down a hill towards your hidden enemies. 

Strumming a quiet tune, you created a Minor Illusion around yourself to look like a traveling musician, rather than an armored spellcaster. You slung your lute back around onto your back. 

“Sorry!” you called, holding your hands up above your head as if in surrender. You spotted an armored dwarf on a wooden walkway up ahead, currently visible, and walked towards him. “So sorry!”

“What?” The dwarf looked surprised by your unarmed approach. “Gehk! Got someone sneaking up on us!”

“No!” you assured. “My band mates and I,” you pointed your thumb over your shoulder towards the area where you’d been spotted with your companions, “we got a little turned around. See, we thought there might be a secluded place down here to practice for our upcoming gig, and well, we didn’t know you were already here, and-”

“Too loud, sun-scum,” came a voice from above you. You looked up to see another Duergar on a platform overhead. He wore an amulet of the Absolute and had a large battle axe strapped to his back. “Could hear you and your mates stumbling. Can hear you blinking.” 

“That seems unlikely,” you muttered. Your eyes wandered around, pretending to look for more dwarves in the area, but really checking to make sure your companions were in position. 

“Noise gets you eaten down here,” the dwarf with the amulet went on. “Reckon I’ll hush you before something hungry comes along.” 

“You’d hurt an unarmed musician?” You held your hands up higher.

The dwarf above you barked out a laugh. “Nice try, bard.” He spat the word. “Saw you lot from a mile away. Your little disguise is pitiful.”

Something seemed off. You felt a chill run down your spine as something brushed against you. The illusion of your plain clothes fell away, revealing your armor. You had a feeling your invisible foes had you surrounded. 

“Now,” said the dwarf, “where are your little friends hiding?”

You laughed. “I was just going to ask! Why would you all surround me when my little friends are over there?” You nodded your head towards one of the platforms.

The dwarf’s eyes widened as he spotted Shadowheart, whose hands were poised with a Firebolt spell. “They’re up there!” Before the dwarf could point, an arrow pierced through his shoulder from behind, knocking him forward off the platform. You sidestepped his falling body and made eye contact with Astarion who smirked down at you. 

“Attack!” The first dwarf you spoke to shouted, and all hell broke loose. 

Light surrounded you as Shadowheart cast Bless, and you were able to out-maneuver the dwarf who’d yelled as the light momentarily blinded him. Arrows flew towards Astarion, who’d been the first to shoot, and with those arrows, multiple dwarves’ Invisibility spells broke. Astarion was able to easily dodge and avoid the onslaught of attacks, thanks to the advantage of being on higher ground. You grabbed your lute and cast Shatter, causing the dwarves around you to fly backwards in a wave of thunder. Gale launched fiery arrows at your foes, and Shadowheart summoned a Spiritual Weapon to fight for you all on the ground below.

“You’re here because of those rotflowers, aren’t you?” The dwarf with the Absolute pendant got to his feet and pulled the arrow out of his shoulder. “You reek of justice and good deeds.”

“Funny,” you said, using the pommel of your rapier to push a now visible dwarf off the platform you were on, “and I just took a bath this morning.”

“Would you classify that as a bath?” Astarion called down to you, mischief in his eyes.

You smiled, but could already feel yourself starting to lose steam, even though the battle had just started. Still, you pressed on and cast another Shatter, scattering your enemies further and buying you some time to catch your breath. “And what would you classify it as?”

“I can think of many things, but we’re in such polite company, I shan’t say.” He shot a flaming arrow down onto the beach and hit multiple dwarves at once in the explosion. 

“I don’t like whatever’s happening here,” the dwarf with the Absolute amulet said. “But I’ll make you pay for siding with those mushroom abominations.” The dwarf raised his hands and uttered a spell you didn't recognize, but a cacophony of noise from below caught your attention. The lapse in focus cost you, as one of the dwarves you’d been fending off pushed you off the platform.

You heard your companions yell your name as you landed hard in the sand below. It took you a second to regain your bearings before you realized what the sound had been. Fallen Duergar were now rising, life not returning to their eyes, but risen all the same.

Animate Dead. 

You’d heard of this spell; had seen it in action with Mayrina’s husband, Connor. But you had yet to see it used in battle. 

Now you were surrounded by undead dwarves, hell bent on tearing you apart. 

“Hi,” was all you could manage through the spinning of your head. You blinked a few times before blocking the heavy strike of an axe with your slim rapier. When it was clear that the axe was going to prevail, you rolled out of the way and the axe connected with the sand that had been beneath your head. 

“Are you alright?” Shadowheart called after hitting you with a Healing Word. 

You squared your shoulders and entered into a fighting stance. “Better now, thanks!” While it was true, you were still exhausted and could feel your magic actively getting weaker. You’d have to remind yourself to get a sturdier sword after this battle. You heard a clang as Shadowheart’s Spiritual Weapon was destroyed by a few zombies that now turned their attention on you.

“Hardly the place, darling,” Astarion called, downing one of the zombies in front of you with an arrow of ice. “Dying down here? Embarrassing.”

“Stop talking and help her kill the bloody things!” Gale yelled, still slinging spells and arrows at the dwarves from up on the platforms. 

The undead kept rushing at you, and you were able to keep them at bay with brandishes of your rapier and weaker casts of Thunderwave, but it was getting harder and harder to fight back. Meanwhile, living dwarves had made it to the other platforms and started climbing up to your companions. Astarion’s help began to dwindle as his attention was split between you and the dwarves he had to face head on with his daggers. You could hear less and less of Gale’s magic as he opted fully for his crossbow, especially now with dwarves attempting to climb up to him. Shadowheart was facing the same obstacles, instead swinging her morningstar and shoving her shield to throw dwarves from the platform. 

“Guys,” you said, not as loudly as you would have hoped. There was too much going on. Even if you did manage to raise your voice, it would be hard to hear you over the sounds of fire arrows and spells. 

“Guys,” you tried again but to no avail. You cast a small Cure Wounds on yourself, but instantly regretted it. You could have saved that spell for an offensive attack, and now you felt yourself completely depleted of magic, despite trying your best to use it sparingly. Which was difficult when you were surrounded by enemies and your companions were occupied with their own battles. You were just one person. This was too much.

The undead dwarves still standing were backing you up against a cluster of boulders in the center of the beach. 

This was okay. You were fine! You’d been in tough spots before and you and your team had always come out on top. You could do this. Undead dwarves? Pah! What kind of lethal damage could someone with dead muscle inflict, right? Sure, Astarion was undead and he was a vicious killer, but that was Astarion, and these dwarves had just been resurrected. They were just getting their sea legs! Life…. legs? It didn’t matter. They probably couldn’t even think for themselves. You could handle this.

With a boost of confidence from your mental pep talk, you surged forward, away from the center of the beach, and stabbed a zombie through the chest. The visceral sound of metal entering flesh was loud and oddly satisfying.

“Ah ha!” you shouted as the zombie slumped to the ground. 

But the stab had been louder than your slim blade should have been able to muster. You pulled the blade out of the slumped zombie to inspect, but upon looking down, you saw silver glinting with red through your midsection. 

Another zombie had come up behind you and cleaved you with his axe. The head of it peaked out through your stomach.

You heard your name roared from somewhere up above.

The metallic taste of your own blood rushed into your mouth as your vision started to blur. You fell to your knees.

“Guys,” you said one more time.

Then everything went black.

~~~~~

In another life, Astarion would have made a decent barbarian. 

Despite Karlach’s cheerful demeanor, for the most part, barbarians were known to be violent, brutal, and cruel. All things that Astarion could easily tap into if the situation called for it.

And right now, he was entering a rage.

Red. 

That was all he saw. 

Red, and the corpses of the dwarves who dared cross his path on his way down to you.

He hadn’t witnessed it.

Had been too caught up in his own hacking and slashing to see the moment when the axe had made its way through your torso. But he had smelled it. Instantly, he had recognized the sweet notes of your blood entering the air. That’s when he’d looked down and saw the state of you. He’d screamed your name, far louder than any of the magic and explosions that were still triggering in the fight. 

Shadowheart and Gale’s heads snapped down to look at you, terror in their eyes. And yet they still had to fight. The zombies surrounding your unconscious form began to move away from you and up towards them instead. 

Astarion downed dwarves left and right, going overboard in his violence on the warpath to get you into his arms. 

“Shadowheart!” he yelled, as if she wasn’t already aware of the situation.

“I know!” she shouted back. “I can try a Healing Word but my magic’s nearly spent!”

“Do it! NOW!” Astarion bellowed as he sliced through the abdomen of a dwarf preparing to fire a spell. He heard a chant of “te curo,” followed by the aqua magic that usually came with a healing spell, but you remained motionless in the sand. 

“The wound is too deep and my magic isn’t strong enough!” Shadowheart slung her morning star into the head of a Duergar that had successfully climbed up to her platform. 

Gale looked over to Shadowheart and the two shared a brief, silent conversation before Gale nodded and Misty Stepped down to you.

“Don’t you touch her, wizard!” Astarion yelled as he fought his way through what once must have been a house of some kind. “Unless you can bring her back up!” His daggers stabbed through the Duergar with the Absolute amulet; the one who’d raised those dead in the first place. Astarion made sure his death was extra painful with each twist of his knives.

“Be reasonable, Astarion!” Gale yelled back and shot an arrow at one of the zombies still slinking across the beach. He bent and attempted to get you to swallow some healing potion. You’d already lost a lot of blood.

“She’s DYING!” Astarion bellowed before jumping down, out of the house, and down onto the beach. He made a sound of pain as he landed, but stumbled as quickly as he could over to you on his hands and knees. 

Before he reached you, however, he spotted an unarmed zombie halfway up a ladder. That must have been the vile creature whose blade was still lodged in you. He made a beeline for the abomination and pulled it down with enough force to rip the rope that made up the ladder it was climbing. His blades were entering the zombie repeatedly before he even realized he’d pinned it to the ground. It stopped moving fairly soon after its first stab wound, but Astarion wouldn’t let up.

“It’s dead, Astarion!” Gale said, trying to bring him back to reality. “Truly dead!”

Astarion finally stopped and breathed heavily. He abandoned the corpse and made his way over to you, sinking to his knees.

“You’re okay,” he cooed. “Help is here.” He gently pulled you into his lap, careful not to touch the axe head. “I’ve got you.”

“She’s still alive,” Gale confirmed. “I gave her some healing potion and checked her pulse.”

Astarion wasn’t listening. He rocked back and forth, wiping matted hair out of your face. “Darling,” he said quietly, “you’re too pretty to die. And look at all the precious blood you’ve wasted.” You shifted a little and he paused. 

Your eyes opened briefly. When you realized it was Astarion looking down at you, you smiled. 

“Hi,” you said weakly.

Astarion laughed, but it was a choked, mangled thing. “Hello, my love.”

“That hurt,” you said, smiling blearily until your eyes closed again. He brought his forehead lightly to yours.

Gale touched his shoulder. “Take her to Halsin. He’ll be able to help more than any of us at the moment.”

Astarion wanted to argue, but knew that Gale was probably right. Annoying bastard. 

“Help me, would you?” He made to stand up and Gale moved to help guide you gently into Astrion’s arms as he stood. The axe rested uncomfortably between the two of you, but Astarion knew better than to try and pull it out without the proper healing implements nearby to stop the bleeding. 

“We’ll be fine here,” Gale said, shooting another arrow at a dwarf on his way to Shadowheart. “You cleared most of the sorry mongrels just now, anyway.”

“I don’t recall asking,” Astarion snapped, readjusting how he was holding you. 

“Only trying to help,” Gale said sharply. “None of us want to see her suffer.”

Astarion sighed. “I know,” he admitted.

Gale placed a hand on his shoulder again. “Proprae,” he said, and warm magic surrounded Astarion. “Longstrider,” Gale explained. “It’ll get you to Halsin faster. Now go.”

Astarion nodded and took off back towards the Myconid colony.

“You just had to play hero, didn’t you?” He didn’t look down at you as he sidestepped purple crystals and wayward wooden planks. “Couldn’t stay back for once and let someone else handle it.”

You coughed a little and peered up at him. “I do it for the glory,” you wheezed with a joking smile.

Astarion’s eyes flicked to you for a second. “There are better ways to get attention, darling.” He smiled despite himself. “Now stop talking, please. Save that strength.”

Rather than argue further, you closed your eyes again and nuzzled your face into his neck. You were so tired. And cold. Numbness had overtaken your body except for a dull ache in your midsection. You didn’t even realize when you slipped away again.

Astarion felt you go slightly more limp and swore, dodging exploding mushrooms and trying to remember the way back to the Myconids. 

“Don’t you dare leave me,” he growled. “Not now. Not you.” He refused to shed a tear. You’d be okay, and then he’d have words with you about your pesky bleeding heart. 

Speaking of bleeding, he didn’t like how easily he could smell your blood. Usually he’d be thrilled to be surrounded by such an intoxicating aroma, but right now it was making him sick to his stomach. 

“Do you know how selfish you are?” he asked, knowing you wouldn’t respond. “Wasting all this blood. Some of us need a proper meal.”

He hated your silence. Hated that you weren’t strong enough to tell him he could feed from you if he wanted because of course you would. Or maybe you’d come up with some sort of jab about him being selfish for thinking about food at a time like this. He missed your voice.

“How dare you scare me like this, you stubborn clod.” 

In the distance, he saw the glowing mushrooms of the colony. He ducked his head and willed himself to run even faster. 

“Where are they?!” Astarion shouted to a mushroom sentry at the entrance. The Myconid remained stoic, but flashed a somber song through Astarion’s mind. “Not helpful!” he shouted as he ran up the steps.

There! That halfling woman who’d asked you all to find her bumbling husband.

“You!” he yelled, his eyes wild. “The group I was traveling with! Where did they go?!”

The halfling woman fumbled for words, shocked at the bloody sight of you before her.

“Tell me!” he exclaimed.

“I believe they found a clearing not far off. The druid came by earlier to swap herbs.”

Astarion didn’t respond before booking it again, the Myconids singing a mournful ballad to him as he passed them. 

“HALSIN!” he screamed when he left through the other entrance of the colony. “WYLL! KARLACH! LAE’ZEL! YOU BLASTED WHELPS, WHERE ARE YOU?!” He kept running, following along a path of glowing mushrooms.

“Astarion?” It was Wyll.

“WHERE ARE YOU?!” Astarion repeated, recalibrating to run towards the sound of his voice.

“OVER HERE!” Karlach shouted, and Astarion saw Scratch appear from around a corner a short distance away, followed closely by Karlach. Wyll and Lae’zel caught up behind them.

“Dear gods,” Wyll murmured before running into camp and creating a space for you. 

“I’ll get Halsin!” Karlach turned and ran.

“Kaincha,” Lae’zel breathed as Astarion passed her.

“Lay her here,” Wyll said, having prepped a bedroll next to the fire.

“Like hells is she going on the bloody ground,” Astarion hissed, looking around for something more comfortable. “Grab my pillows,” he nodded from Wyll to the ox cart. 

Wyll nodded and ran to the cart before coming back and beginning to fashion a makeshift mattress. 

Lae’zel looked around for Gale and Shadowheart. “Where are the others?”

“Damned Duergars. They’re in a rotting village by the lake southwest of here.”

“I shall avenge our fallen,” she nodded before running to her tent, grabbing her greatsword and taking off in the direction Astarion had come in from. 

“She’s not dead yet,” Astarion muttered as Halsin and Karlach entered the space frantically. “There you are!” He addressed Halsin icily. He had yet to put you down. 

Halsin ignored Astarion in favor of approaching you and assessing the damage. He held multiple bowls and jars of unknown substances, and his face gave nothing away. “Bring her this way,” he said, motioning for Astarion to follow him. Halsin led him to a giant mushroom cap. “Lay her down here.” He set down the materials he was holding nearby.

“On a damn mushroom? You must be joking.” Astarion held you tighter.

“Astarion,” Halsin said gently, “I’m going to help her. You have to trust me.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes and reassessed the mushroom. It did look soft, and big enough for your whole body to spread out on. He looked at Halsin again who remained calm and collected. Astarion nodded.

Halsin nodded back and helped him untangle you from his arms. “We’re going to lay her on her side,” he instructed, and Astarion did his best to roll you gently onto the mushroom cap. 

“How can we help?” Wyll asked, making Astarion jump. He’d forgotten about anyone outside of his current line of sight. 

“Fetch my pack, if you would, Wyll,” Halsin said. 

Wyll nodded and ran towards Halsin’s tent on the other side of camp. 

“And me?” Karlach asked. 

“Can you heat up some water?”

“You got it,” she said before rushing to grab a bucket.

Halsin held out his hand, golden magic emitting from his palm. He closed his eyes and hovered his hand up and down your body.

“Well?” Astarion asked impatiently. 

Halsin opened his eyes and Astarion caught a flash of panic in them.

No.

“We need to get this axe out as soon as possible,” Halsin explained. “She’s going to lose more blood, but you were right to leave it in on the battlefield.”

It was then that Wyll came back, lugging Halsin’s backpack, along with other supplies he deemed might be useful.

“So get it out and heal her!” Astarion exclaimed.

“I’ll do my best, Astarion, but you’ll have to be patient.” 

“Where’s Withers?” Astarion looked around but caught no glimpse of the skeleton.

“He said he’d find us once we’re settled,” Wyll reminded him kindly. 

“If we lose her and he can’t bring her back, I’m ending him.” Astarion knew how unlikely it was that he’d be able to kill someone who brought people back from the dead for a living (why Withers needed a living in the first place was still a mystery), but he needed someone to threaten. He was terrified. 

“Astarion,” Halsin said, “I’ll need you to help me remove her clothes. Wyll, can you prepare some bandages?”

Wyll nodded and began to gather materials from Halsin’s bag. 

Astarion hesitated before unsheathing his daggers to help cut the leather armor off of your body. Halsin helped maneuver your limbs out of it until you were left in what once was a white shirt, now a deep red around your midsection.

“Her shirt as well,” Halsin said. “Your skill with a knife is far more refined than mine.”

Astarion frowned, knowing you’d probably hate being shirtless in front of everyone, but shook off the thought in favor of helping Halsin heal you. He quickly and carefully cut your shirt away from your body, depositing it on another mushroom nearby, and leaving you in nothing but your undergarments. The gash in your back was brutal, and rather than stare at it, Astarion took your hand. It was growing cold, but he could sense your blood still pumping beneath your skin. 

“She’s so weak,” he murmured. 

“She’s a fighter,” Halsin put a hand on Astarion’s shoulder before moving to mix some sort of elixir he had in one of the bowls he’d brought over. “My magic isn’t strong enough to heal her all by itself, not completely, but Oak Father willing, she’ll make it through this.”

“She better,” Astarion growled, still holding your hand, squeezing it harder than he knew he should. 

Halsin smiled faintly, then moved around to your head. He tipped your head back and made you swallow the contents of the bowl he’d just been mixing.

“And what-”

“That should keep her from waking up right away.” Halsin came back to stand behind you and examined the state of the axe.

“So, she won’t feel any pain?” Astarion asked.

“She shouldn’t.”

“Okay,” was all Astarion could manage to say, hoping that was enough to convey his gratitude to the druid.

Halsin nodded and motioned for Astarion to hold you in place. “Wyll, can you help with this?”

“Of course,” Wyll moved around the mushroom to hold you from the other side. 

“I’m going to remove the axe,” Halsin said. “She’s going to bleed more, but I should be able to stop it with what I’ve brought with me.”

“Enough talking,” Astarion held you tight. “Get to the healing part already!”

Halsin frowned, but nodded. “Steady now,” he said, placing his hands on the wooden handle of the axe. “Ready?”

“Yes!” Astarion snapped.

Halsin let out a calming breath before pulling on the axe. Everyone held their breath to make sure you didn’t cry out in pain. When you didn’t, Halsin continued, taking the blade out in one smooth motion. 

As he’d said, you began bleeding more profusely and Astarion let out a pathetic whining sound. Halsin immediately held out his hands, aqua healing magic surrounding you from both sides. Astarion couldn’t look away as your skin knit itself back together, a clear scar forming in its wake.

The aqua magic faded and Halsin instantly dipped his hand in some sort of salve and began rubbing it along your back. 

“Wyll,” Halsin said, handing him a bowl with an identical salve. “Please cover the wound on her stomach with this.”

“I’ll do it,” Astarion said, moving around the mushroom to your front. Wyll handed him the salve and he went to work spreading a generous amount along your stomach. 

“Sorry,” said Karlach, running up with a steaming bucket of water. “I was looking for where we packed all our towels.” She held up a few. “I found them.” 

“Thank you, Karlach,” Halsin said. “We can start cleaning the area around her wounds.”

Karlach bounced on her feet. “Um… I’ll incinerate her if I try to help with that.”

“I know what you can do,” Astarion said flatly, focusing deeply on globbing enough salve onto your stomach. He lifted his head and nodded towards the axe on the ground behind Halsin. “You can destroy that wretched blade.”

Karlach smiled and cracked her knuckles. “I’ll make it wish it was never fucking born.”

“Blades aren’t born, Karlach,” Wyll said, wiping blood away from your skin with the warm water she provided.

“And yet, this one will die a fiery death,” she smirked, flaring her flames menacingly. She took off, presumably to be as hot as she pleased without endangering others.

“Can one of you help me sit her upright?” Halsin addressed the two men still tending to you.

“Sure,” Astarion said, noticeably calmer now that you weren’t actively bleeding. “How are her, um… her innards?”

Halsin smiled. “If you’re referring to internal bleeding, the potion I gave her and the spell I cast should be enough to have stopped it. But she’s still very fragile. I’d imagine it will take her some time to fully recover.” He once again held out his hand and cast a golden spell from his palm like he had earlier. “Yes, the internal bleeding has stopped. Though I’d suggest not giving into any carnal desires until she’s completely healed.”

“Carnal- I don’t want to have sex with her like this!” Astarion looked offended. “Who do you take me for?”

Halsin chuckled. “I didn’t think you would, but it still needed to be said.”

“Of all the-” Astarion narrowed his eyes but didn’t finish the thought. “You needed help getting her upright?” 

“Yes, she’ll need to be bandaged up. It’s possible she’ll bleed again depending on her movements in her sleep and various other factors, but she’ll also need to keep reapplying fresh salves to prevent infection and minimize scarring.”

Astarion nodded as Wyll finished washing away most of the blood on your back. 

“Let’s lie her on her back first,” Halsin said. 

Astarion and Wyll helped to gently roll you onto your back, and Halsin helped sit you up straight. Astarion came up quickly to place a gentle hand on your chest and another on your back to keep you upright as Halsin began to wrap bandages around your torso. 

Though your head was tipped forward in your unconscious state, Astarion whispered encouragements in your ear that Halsin and Wyll politely pretended not to hear.

“You’re going to be okay, my love. Soon I’ll get to look into your pretty eyes again and hear your lovely voice. Everything is going to be okay.”

~~~~~

Everything is going to be okay.

How could that be true when you were drowning?

Surrounded by inky blackness. Floating through nothingness.

Your limbs were heavy. And more than anything, you were tired. So, so tired. 

You’d messed up. You’d allowed yourself to fight, even though you knew you weren’t at your best, just because you didn’t want your friends to be upset. Right? They had been people you cared about? And now the last thing you remembered was being curled into someone’s side as they ran, presumably, to find help. 

Idiot.

You were an idiot. 

The person had looked so scared. 

This was all your fault. You hated being the one to cause a problem. You had to be good. You had to do everything right so no one would have to worry about you.

The person who’d held you so close and protectively shouldn’t have to worry about you. 

Whoever they were. 

You vaguely remembered saying something to them, but you couldn’t recall what it was or why you’d said it. You faintly remember making them snicker, at least.

You’re doing so well, darling. Hang in there.

It didn’t feel like you were doing so well. And yet the words filled you with comfort. Somewhere, a thousand miles away, you felt someone squeezing your hand. 

We’re going to move you now, but we’ll be gentle.

That was very kind of them. You were having trouble moving through this darkness. 

Easy, now. 

Was it possible to swim towards the voice? It sounded like it might be within reach, even though mere moments ago it had seemed incredibly distant and far-off.

You’ll be much more comfortable here, my love.

Though your head was filled with fog, something in your gut told you to go to the voice. You knew it was familiar, but you couldn’t make the connection. With all the strength you could muster, you kicked your legs as hard as you could and pulled yourself along with your arms. 

Don’t worry, my sweet, I’m not going anywhere.

Thank you, you wanted to say, but you couldn’t quite grasp the words.

Try as you might to swim towards the voice, it remained just out of reach, a wall of pain shooting through your abdomen whenever you got too close. 

I’m here, you tried to tell the voice. I can’t reach you.

Sleep now.

It hurts.

I’ll be here when you’re ready. 

Please.

~~~~~

Your sleep was fitful. It had taken about an hour before you’d started thrashing unconsciously and moaning in pain.

“Something’s wrong,” Astarion called, emerging from your tent. 

He and the others had moved you onto the makeshift mattress Wyll had created, and built your tent around you, next to Astarion’s. Or what would be Astarion’s; he had yet to set up his space, having spent all his time at camp so far by your side. 

Shadowheart, Gale, and Lae’zel had arrived at camp about half an hour after Astarion had rushed in with your unconscious form, all three covered in generous amounts of blood and gore. They had immediately asked after the state of you and were pleased to see you bandaged and sleeping soundly.

Now, however, that wasn’t the case.

Halsin and Shadowheart were quick to check on you. 

Shadowheart felt your forehead and frowned. “She’s burning up.”

“Likely fighting a possible infection,” Halsin hypothesized.

“Well, can anything be done?!” Astarion asked, taking his place next to you again and holding your hand in both of his. 

Halsin watched him carefully. “Actually, your cooling touch may bring her some comfort, Astarion.” He looked to Shadowheart, who nodded slowly.

“She needs to cool down. I’ll fetch some cold water, but Halsin is correct. You may be exactly what she needs. But don’t let that go to your head.”

“Of course I’m exactly what she needs,” Astarion puffed his chest, “but it’s nice to hear that that’s true in more ways than one.”

Shadowheart rolled her eyes before leaving and muttering, “Why do I even bother?”

Astarion looked to Halsin. “She’ll be okay?”

Halsin smiled softly. “She’ll need water and nutrients to help fight the fever, but with you by her side, I presume she’ll be better in no time.”

“Right then, get out of here,” Astarion said, waving him away and looking slightly embarrassed. 

Halsin chuckled. “I’ll prepare some food for her.”

“Yes, go bother someone else with your sappiness.”

Halsin paused in the entrance of your tent. “Being vulnerable is not a weakness, Astarion. It’s quite clear how much you love her, and that’s incredibly-.”

“You need to leave,” Astarion snapped and dropped your hand, physically shooing a laughing Halsin out of your tent. “Be useful, why don’t you?” he called after him coolly as Halsin made his way over to where Gale was preparing tonight’s meal. The vampire closed the flaps of your tent firmly.

Love?

He shook his head. He was worried about you, yes, but that was because he… cared about you. More than he cared about anyone else at this freakish camp. And that was… fine. It was fine that he cared about you because you cared about him, too. And that was important because caring meant safety and protection.

Which is why he’d been so panicked about finding help for you! Obviously! If you weren’t around to protect him, who would? Not Gale, that’s for sure. No, Astarion was looking out for you for purely selfish reasons.

Right?

You made a tiny sound of discomfort and he was by your side instantly, holding his hand to your forehead, and then pressing both of his palms to your cheeks. He felt your body sag and watched the features of your face relax a little.

“There, now,” he cooed. “Doesn’t that feel better?”

He paused and narrowed his eyes in thought. 

That was troubling.

He refused to think any deeper on the subject. Instead, he undid all the straps and clasps of his armor, trying to be as quiet as possible as he removed it all, then placed it outside so it wouldn’t take up any of your space. Next, he rearranged some extra pillows that Wyll had brought by your tent to make a space where he could lie next to you. Once he’d done that, he removed his undershirt and laid next to you properly.

“Come here, my darling,” he said quietly, snuggling himself into your side. His body jolted reflexively at how hot your torso was, but quickly moved back into position and wrapped his arms around you as gently as he could. Your face scrunched in discomfort for a moment before settling into something akin to peace.

Astarion watched your chest rise and fall quietly, and let out a silent sigh of relief. One of his hands absently fiddled with the ends of your hair. You’d need a bath at some point. So would he, for that matter. You were both still covered in gore and filth, and some strands of your hair were bound together by enemy blood. Astarion didn’t much feel like licking it off of you or tasting their blood in any capacity, unless he could watch the life drain from their eyes as he drank them dry. But he’d hate every minute of it. He found your taste to be his favorite.

His favorite.

So, you were his favorite. Who cared! He knew it! Everyone at camp knew it! It didn’t need to be any deeper than that.

He exhaled through his nose. Being vulnerable was a weakness. Any of his siblings would tell you that. Show one shred of fragility towards anything and it would be torn away from you and exploited in any number of violent and cruel ways. He couldn’t let that happen to you.

“Can I come in?” Shadowheart’s voice was quiet, but loud enough to shake Astarion from his thoughts.

“Yes,” he answered.

She pulled back the flaps of the tent and paused, taking in the scene before her.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said slowly, entering the tent with a bucket of water and a few clean cloths. 

“Not at all, I’m simply taking advantage of this furnace,” Astarion gestured up and down your body. “The Underdark gets so chilly at night. Who knew?”

“Uh huh,” Shadowheart nodded and felt your forehead before dipping a cloth into the water, wringing it out and placing it there. “You know,” she began, “and I hate saying this-”

“Do go on, then.”

“Ugh. I really hate saying this, but… she’s lucky to have you.”

“Shadowheart!” Astarion sounded quietly flabbergasted. “Do you mean it? Truly?” He was being overly dramatic and held a hand to his chest. 

Shadowheart avoided his gaze and dipped another cloth in the water. “I just mean…” She sighed. “I just mean, you make her happy, in your own annoying way. Even before you both started-”

“Holding hands?” Astarion batted his eyelashes.

Shadowheart rolled her eyes, but continued. “I don’t need to tell you how lucky you are to have her because I think you know that, but… You make her laugh. You encourage her to fight better, you steal lutes for her… And… you get her to be selfish. Which, while I don’t agree with all of your selfish suggestions, does cause her to think of herself every once in a while. Something that’s quite hard for her, as she so competently displayed for us today when she didn’t tell us how tired she truly was.” 

“She was a lost cause before I showed up.”

“Be serious for a moment, would you?” Shadowheart placed another cloth along your neck. “That’s something you both need to work on; being serious.” She held his gaze. “We almost lost her out there today. And I don’t think you’ve thought about what that would mean for you.”

“Of course I have,” Astarion snapped. 

Shadowheart raised her eyebrows. “Our Lady of Loss teaches that-”

“Oh, don’t start with that,” Astarion said sharply. “She’s fine now. Or she will be, assuming you and the druid are correct in your assessment of her condition.”

“Pain is a part of life, Astarion.”

“Don’t say that to me,” he snapped. “You know nothing of my pain.”

Shadowheart dabbed another cold cloth across your arm that wasn’t currently cradled into Astarion’s torso. “I know that. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean?” He was aware that he was mildly flashing his fangs in warning.

She dabbed some cold water over your shoulders. “Don’t be afraid. That's all I mean.”

“And what the hells is that supposed to mean?” Astarion narrowed his eyes. “Afraid of what?”

“You care for her.” 

“So what?” 

“You’re aware of that?”

Astarion trilled his lips in disbelief. “Of course I’m aware of that.”

“Okay,” she turned her attention to wringing a cloth of excess water.

If his arms weren’t currently wrapped around you, Astarion would have pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shadowheart, if you’re trying to tell me something, just tell me.”

“You’re allowed to love her.”

Astarion felt himself recoil away from Shadowheart, but he still held onto you. 

Shadowheart nodded calmly, searching his eyes. “We all see it. You haven’t known each other for long, but she’s changing you.”

Astarion gave her a sour expression but didn’t say anything to argue.

“She’s not what you expected, is she?”

“She-” he hesitated. “She’s not.” He looked at your slumbering face fondly. 

“I don’t think she’s what any of us expected.”

Astarion nodded, quiet for a few moments. He was too tired to pretend he was uninterested. “It’s a wonder we all found her,” he brushed a stray hair from your face. “Or, rather, clung to her. And in some cases, attacked her. Or threatened to.”

“It is,” she laughed softly. 

“Poor girl.”

Shadowheart smiled. “She saved me, up on the Nautiloid. She and Lae’zel broke me out of my pod. Though it was mostly her. Actually, it was all her.”

“That’s typical.”

Shadowheart laughed. “Very typical.” She shifted to face Astarion more directly. “We don’t know each other very well.”

“No.”

“And probably never will.”

“Fingers crossed.”

“But I know that you’re not the same person who held a knife to her throat a few weeks ago.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well, I would.” Shadowheart gave him a piercing look. “A few weeks ago, you would have been fine letting her bleed out on that battlefield. You possibly would have laughed at the brutality of it. Or, you would have written it off as a fine dining experience. But the Astarion I’m looking at right now was ready to burn the entire world before he saw her suffer today.” 

Astarion’s grip on you tightened minutely.

Shadowheart sighed. “I don’t like letting others get too close to me either. Partly because that is the way of Lady Shar, and partly because I’m afraid of forgetting. Or remembering. I’m not sure which is worse, truthfully.”

“What does that-”

“It doesn’t matter. My point is, our leader here makes me want to remember. Remember our times together, her kindness… And how she makes me feel.” 

“Careful…” Astarion said slowly, narrowing his eyes but smiling slightly.

“She might be the only person I’ve ever considered to be a true friend. I think. But I know she’d do anything for any of us. And I want to remember that.”

“Okay, so commit it to memory?” Astarion was confused about all the talk of remembering. Surely Shadowheart’s memory wasn’t that bad.

“I’ll try,” she chuckled. Then, after a moment of quiet, she inhaled deeply. “All of this to say, Astarion,” she looked him in the eye again, “heartbreak is also a part of life. And while we’re lucky she’s still with us, you shouldn’t be afraid to love her. I think you want to live.”

~~~~~

Darkness.

All consuming and quiet.

But at least the pain had stopped. 

It was rather lonely here. Nothing to do and no one to talk to. Whenever you tried to move, the blackness that surrounded you gave little away as to whether you were actually moving or not. There’d been waves of extreme heat, bitter cold, and heavy nausea, and while none of that was particularly thrilling, it was nice to know that you could still feel something in this liminal space of sensory deprivation.

The voice would occasionally interrupt the profound silence to address you.

Come on, my sweet, eat just a little more. I know you can.

What are you dreaming about in there?

Are you going to wake up anytime soon, darling?

You didn’t know. No matter what you tried, it didn’t seem likely that you were close to leaving this place. And just when it felt like you were finally getting somewhere, the pain would overtake you again and stop you in your tracks. 

It was exhausting.

You felt someone squeeze your hand distantly.

Brought a book. 

Your head instinctively turned towards the voice.

Thought I might read to you. Since you’re doing an abhorrent job of entertaining me.

Something about the tone made you want to argue. You try… whatever this is! you wanted to say.

Thought this one might be fun. “The Curse of the Vampyre.” Maybe we’ll learn something.

Vampire… why did that word send your heart racing?

“Harken close and beware the Vampyr.” Off to a good start. “Beware its cold beauty.” True. “Beware its charm.” True. “Beware its curse.” ………True.  

Again, you had the overwhelming sensation that you knew this voice. The sense of comfort that washed over you felt all too familiar.

“How doth one protect from the beast?” When was this written? A pause, as if the voice were investigating. I’ve decided I don’t care. The voice cleared its throat. “Walk not in the blackest night, for the Vampyr loves these nights more than any other.” I was rather enjoying my time in the sun, actually. “If you must walk, do so by the light of our moon and take care.” What kind of advice is that? The moon? The moon and I get on just fine. That wouldn’t protect you, darling. “Carry the blessings and marks of your God at all times.” The voice snorted. Yes, because the Gods have cared so much about stopping my acts of debauchery in the past.

Something in the voice’s airy tone lifted an aching weight from your chest. Yes, you knew this person. You were sure of that. You could listen to them all day. Mindlessly, you drifted closer to where the voice was strongest.

“But remember, your home is your fortress, if protected well.” Hmm. “If you hear a knock in the night, be wary. Let no stranger into your home.” As if we make house calls these days. “If it be a friend, look upon them. Do you find them pallid and wan?” Rude. “See you any mark upon their neck?” Collars, darling. Though, I’ve found that most people don’t pay close enough attention anyway. Especially when you’re distracting them with- Well, you know. The voice exhaled loudly. “See you any dirt upon their clothes?” Yuck. “Unless their need is great, turn all away but the most trusted.” You trust me, don’t you, my dear?

Yes, you tried to say. Of course I trust you. 

The voice was growing louder. More clear.

Of course you do, the voice said, though you were sure it hadn’t heard you. Stupid. “And if the Beast finds a way into your home, flee.” I’d say that’s good advice, but unfortunately for you, you can’t really flee right now. And I don’t plan on leaving.

Good. You exhaled, frustrated that you couldn’t speak. 

The hand holding yours tightened mildly. 

I’m here, darling.

I know. Thank you.

It took a moment before the voice started speaking again.

“Lease love and family behind.” 

You felt an indescribable tension as the voice paused once more. Had this passage just said something important? You replayed the phrase in your head.

Family?

Love?

Love…

Oh.

The voice was quieter when it spoke again. 

“You will not save them if you fight. You will not see them again. But they will see you, pale and smiling, calling them into the night.”

Astarion. 

Of course it was Astarion. How could it be anyone else?

He was here. 

With you. 

Just out of reach.

Well, that’s a rather ominous passage, isn’t it?

Astarion! you tried to say. I’m here!

Shh shh shh, he tutted. Don’t strain yourself.

Something you had said or done had gotten through to him.

Astarion! you tried again.

Nothing. You were met with silence. 

Fuck it. Fuck the pain, fuck this freakish darkness. You pulled yourself towards his voice. 

Shall I continue reading, darling?

Yes, keep talking. You winced as a flash of pain pulsed through your middle.

I’m going to skip ahead. I hope you don’t mind.

As long as I can still hear your voice. The pain was becoming more consistent and noticeable.

Ah, this sounds rather interesting: “Vampiric Duality.” Ahem. “Now look, the thing is: your basic vampire has two instincts, right? Feed and make little vampires.” Immediately, a vastly different tone. Is this even the same book? The voice paused again, presumably to check the cover. I admit, I do love to feed, but I’m not sure how much this person knows about vampiric biology. Not that Cazador ever allowed us much research into the subject…

You felt yourself physically recoil at the mention of Cazador’s name and heard Astarion chuckle.

No, you’re right, darling, I won’t mention him again. He hummed and mumbled under his breath. Blah blah blah… “The personality of a vampire has as many facets as a schizophrenic diamond?” What? I appreciate the comparison to a diamond, obviously, but a schizophrenic one? What does that even mean?

You would have laughed if you weren’t actively fighting to get to him. The pain in your torso was almost unbearable, the closer you got to his voice. Tears pricked your eyes, and every part of you hurt like nothing you’d ever experienced before. When the torment started to become white hot and all consuming, you hit what felt like a physical wall.

Ah! Listen to this part, beautiful: “Yet who doesn't adore the darkly romantic complexity of the vampire-”

You did. You adored this vampire. Though you were hurting severely, you reached out and punched against the wall that was blocking you.

Astarion! you all but wailed.

“-the gusto of their love-”

Again, you pounded with all your might, screaming out in agony and rage as the pain physically held you back from reaching out and touching him. You still couldn’t see him, but you felt his presence. So, so close.

“-the wildness of their passion!” You heard him let out a delighted laugh. 

I’m here! you shouted, using both fists to bang against this wall of pure suffering. 

Oh, my dear, if you were awake, I’d shower you with the absolute wildness of my passion. You could practically hear his smirk. I’d demonstrate the gusto of my… well. My-

Gathering all the strength you had left, you wound back and threw your entire body against the wall. You squeezed your eyes tight as an overwhelmingly bright light spilled in and your ears began to ring.

You gasped for air, sitting up quickly, and immediately regretted it.

You heard your name said softly in disbelief and a book slamming shut.

“Ow…” you whined, clutching at your abdomen and feeling tears roll down your cheeks.

Before you could register what was happening, you felt cool palms on your cheeks and soft lips kissing all over your face. You blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the situation. 

“I’m so mad at you,” Astarion said, still kissing your face, his voice filled with nothing but relief.

“What… happened?” you asked between hiccups of tears.

“Lie back down, precious,” he said, gently helping you back onto what seemed to be a pile of pillows and pulling a blanket over you. “You scared us, is what you did.” He wiped a few stray tears from your cheeks, but they kept flowing. You couldn’t stop. 

“Did I… die?” You turned your head to look around. It looked like you were in your tent, your things strewn about somewhat neatly and similar to how it had been at your camp by the lake. A few candles were lit. 

“Nearly,” Astarion confirmed quietly. He looked exhausted. “An undead Duergar got you with his battle axe.”

“Ah,” you said, at a loss for words. “That’s not good.”

Astarion stared at you. “‘That’s not good?’ That’s all you have to say?” He held a hand to your forehead briefly. “Your fever is gone, but it’s possible you’ve got brain damage.”

You chuckled, knowing he was kidding, but the action caused a searing pain in your stomach. You let out a pathetic whine, reaching for the hurt area, but Astarion caught your wrist. 

“Careful, darling. You’ve got a pretty severe wound there.” He released you and pulled back the blanket that was draped over you. Upon looking down, you saw that nearly your entire midsection was covered in bandages. A spot of red spread slowly, disrupting the otherwise pristine white of the cotton.

“It h-urts,” you sniffled, your voice breaking. 

Astarion’s eyes were full of sympathy. “Looks like sitting up quickly may have opened the wound again.”

“Should I go get Shadowheart?” you asked without really thinking about it.

Astarion snorted. “If you think you’re strong enough to fetch the cleric, you’re delusional.”

“Oh,” was all you could say in agreement. “Should you go get Shadowheart? Or Halsin, maybe?”

He shook his head, turning away from you to rifle through some supplies that were out of your line of sight. “Everyone’s asleep, my dear.” He sat back up straight and set out a few items next to you: fresh bandages, healing potions, a salve of some sort, and a small bowl of water. “Besides, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of you myself.”

You almost laughed. “How long was I out? What happened to you?”

He rolled his eyes. “You were out for nearly twelve hours, I’d say. It’s a little before dawn, I think. Though there’s no sun to go off of.”

You nodded, not sure how to feel about this information. Twelve hours was a long time. And yet it felt even longer. Like you’d been out for a lifetime. 

“As for what happened to me, well, someone I… care about… nearly died.” He cleared his throat. “Is it so bizarre that I want her to get better?”

You smiled. “I guess not.”

Astarion returned your smile before hooking his arms under yours and helping you sit up. Someone had stacked two chests on top of each other behind the makeshift mattress to act as a headboard, and he helped you scoot back to sit against it. 

“Careful, my sweet, the axe entered through your back. Let’s try not to lean and put pressure on it, hmm?”

You nodded, wincing when you moved incorrectly. “When did you become such a medical professional?”

He was busy prepping the new bandages. “Shadowheart showed me how to change the bandages once or twice while you were out, and Halsin provided the salves and potions.” Astarion got up onto his knees and crawled over to you, helping you scoot forward, away from the headboard. “And my sister, Dal. She was a doctor, before Cazador. She’d help the rest of us every once in a while. Especially when things got particularly brutal.”

“That’s much cooler than being a magistrate,” you teased, flinching a little in pain.

“I don’t know, magistrates can sentence people to death.” He squeezed your arm.

“No they can’t,” you laughed. Then paused. “Can they?”

Astarion shrugged. “Can’t remember, honestly.” He leaned forward to reach for where the bandage was tucked into itself on your front. “I’m going to undo this now, okay? Let me know if I hurt you at all.”

You nodded, holding his gaze.

“Oh,” he said before turning to grab a healing potion. He handed it to you. “This should help.”

You took it and downed it as Astarion began to carefully unwrap the bandages. You could feel the unpleasant sting of something having dried beneath the cloth that was now being tugged at as the bandage was unraveling. 

Astarion was nothing but complete focus as he reached his arms around you and back towards himself, carefully unwrapping you. You watched him the entire time. 

“I heard you, you know.”

He looked at you, the corner of his lips quirking up. “Heard me what?”

“When you were talking to me while I was sleeping.”

He went a little stiff at your words. “What exactly did you hear?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. I heard you reading just now.”

His shoulders dropped in relief. “Horrid creatures, vampires.”

“The worst,” you agreed. 

Astarion pulled away the last of the bandage and you looked down, your eyes widening at the huge gash along the right side of your stomach. 

“And we’re sure I didn’t die?” you asked, cautiously poking the area around the wound. The healing potion had stopped the bleeding.

Astarion slapped your hand. “Stop that.”

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re still here with us. I would have killed Withers if that weren’t the case.”

“You can’t-”

“I know. But he would have gotten an earful at least.” Astarion crawled on his knees back over to the supply area that you previously couldn’t see. Now you could see that there were a few buckets of water with towels and cloths of various sizes. He dunked his hands into one of the buckets and lathered his hands with soap. 

“Thorough,” you commented.

“You already fought off one infection,” he explained. “Don’t want to risk another.” He finished washing and drying his hands, then made his way back over to you on his knees, careful not to touch anything on his way.

“I had an infection?” you asked, watching as he dipped a cloth in the small bowl of water next to you. 

“Yes,” he said, “or were fighting one off. Like I said earlier, you had a fever, but it’s gone now.” He brought the cloth up to your stomach. “I’m going to clean the wound now. It might hurt.”

You nodded and he began dabbing your skin lightly. He was right, it stung and pierced whenever he hit a particularly raw area and your body jerked despite attempting to stay still. Tears welled up in your eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” Astarion said, reaching up to wipe a tear away. 

“I’m the one who got cleaved,” you deflected. “It’s my own fault.”

“Which reminds me,” his face morphed from apologetic to irritated, “why didn’t you tell us you were so exhausted? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-” you squeaked at a particularly sharp pain. “I didn’t want you all to worry.”

Astarion’s hand paused and he narrowed his eyes at you. “Fine load of good that did, dear.”

“I’m sorry,” you looked away from him. “I didn’t know how involved the fight was going to be.”

“It doesn’t matter how involved the fight was or wasn’t going to be; if you weren’t feeling your best, you should have stayed behind and let one of the others take your place.” He sniffed pompously and added, “Would have given me an excuse to relax, too.” There was a sharpness to his words, but his actions remained careful and kind. You gave him a curious look and he rolled his eyes. “Oh, like I would go out and fight when I could laze about at camp for once.” He was suddenly very focused on not looking you in the eye.

You smiled. “You liiiiike me.”

“I’d have spent the entire time on the other side of camp.”

“Liar.” 

“The point is, darling, you have to listen to yourself and what you need. I do it all the time. For myself, I mean.”

“I know you do,” you chuckled. 

Astarion set down the wet cloth he was using and got a fresh one, before moving behind you to clean the wound on your back.“Why do you even care what we think?”

“Because you’re my friends, and I value your opinions?”

“No, I mean, why aren’t we allowed to be worried about you?”

“Oh,” you winced and flinched a bit at the cloth pressing against a tender spot on your back. “I don’t know. You all have your own problems to worry about. I shouldn’t be one of them.”

Astarion tsked. “I might be new to this whole ‘caring about someone else’ thing, but even I know how absurd that is.”

You tried to stay quiet, focusing on not moving to minimize the pricklings of pain shooting through your back. Yet despite your best effort, you still let out a few weak whimpers of discomfort.

Astarion sighed and moved away from you, back to the caché of supplies at the end of your bed. He came up with a steaming bowl of stew and reached across the bed to hand it to you.

“Careful,” he warned.

“How?” you asked.

“Halsin made soup. Gale knew a spell to keep it warm. This is the result.” He handed you a spoon. “We were able to get you to eat some while you were unconscious, but Shadowheart said you should eat properly whenever you woke up. I forgot until just now.”

“Thank you,” you said gratefully, shoveling some of the stew into your mouth. It was rich and heavy; full of meat and vegetables. Delicious.

Astarion took his place behind you again and went back to cleaning, but not before sighing dramatically. “Playing nursemaid is so far beneath me. I can’t believe you’re making me do this, you wretch.”

You swallowed some broth then said, “I offered to get Shadowheart.”

“Not a chance,” he growled in your ear, leaning around to kiss your cheek. “But if I ever have to do this again-”

“You’ll kill me?”

“Without a second thought, my sweet.”

“Mmhm,” you hummed through more food. “I think you’re enjoying this, honestly.”

“Seriously? When I could be out killing something? Or drinking from that gorgeous neck of yours? Or thoroughly ruining you? Nice try.”

“Are you hungry?” you asked, suddenly feeling very guilty for not thinking of him.

“This is what I mean, darling.” He sounded annoyed.

“What?”

“You are very weak at the moment. You lost quite a bit of blood from this wound, and you’re still offering to feed me.” 

“Because I want to help you! I have something you need and I lo-like you so much.” You caught yourself, but not very smoothly. 

Astarion raised an eyebrow. “Flattered as I am, I know that drinking from you right now could be fatal. And I think you know that, too.”

You shoveled some more stew into your mouth shamefully.

“That’s all I mean, pet.” Astarion set down the cloth he’d been using to clean your back and moved around so he could look you in the eye again. “You’re incredible. You always want to help others, which, while I don’t personally understand it, is seen as very admirable to some people. But it gets you into trouble, and I don’t think you care that it does.” He took your chin in his hand to make you look at him. “But I care now. And I don’t want this to happen again.”

“I can’t help it,” you said quietly. 

Astarion pouted mildly with genuine sympathy and kissed you chastely. “Try.” He pressed his forehead to yours.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled. “Besides,” his flamboyant cadence returned to make you laugh, “I already drained some poor beastie dry earlier while Shadowheart was changing your bandages.”

“Poor beastie.”

He kissed you again, more deeply this time. “It meant nothing to me,” he teased and you laughed. “It was purely for sustenance.” He nosed along your neck to his favorite feeding spot and kissed you there.

“I may never find forgiveness in my heart for this,” you teased back.

Astarion’s eyes went noticeably soft and a small smile tugged at his lips. His hands came up to your cheeks and he kissed you once more, tugging at your bottom lip with his front teeth. You matched his rhythm, moaning softly, and unconsciously rolling your hips, which made you cry out in pain.

“Bad idea,” you groaned, tilting your head away from Astarion’s eager kisses. 

He chuckled and rested his forehead on your temple. “You know, Halsin actually warned me not to ‘give in to any carnal desires’ until you were fully healed. I told him I wouldn’t.”

“And yet you did anyway?” you raised an eyebrow with a smile. “You selfish prick.”

Astarion tsked. “I’m not the needy one rolling my hips, now am I?”

“You bit my lip!”

“Call it… a vampiric sign of affection. Nothing more than that.”

You blew out an annoyed huff, causing a strand of hair in your face to fly upwards.

“I didn’t even draw blood,” Astarion said. “You should be thanking me.”

“Oh, thank you,” you rolled your eyes.

“But of course.”

“I so badly want to strangle you right now.”

Astarion growled from the back of his throat. “Oh, how I’ve missed you,” he said, kissing you again, despite your laughing protests.

“Would you please finish with this?” you asked, pushing him back and gesturing the undressed wound on your stomach. 

He groaned loudly. “If I must.”

“I can handle the front,” you said, nodding towards a bowl of salve, but not attempting to lean forward and grab it for fear of accidentally hurting yourself further.

Astarion hesitated in giving you the bowl, but quickly gave in. “Fine.”

“I’ll be careful,” you said.

He nodded once and took his own bowl of salve to spread on your back. 

The balm was cool and caused you to jump a little when it first made contact with your skin. Astarion paused his work to make sure you were alright. 

“I’m okay,” you assured. “Just cold.”

“You get used to it,” he smirked, globbing more cold substance onto your back.

Delicately, you took your own salve and began to apply a generous amount to your stomach. 

The two of you remained silent, locked in concentration as you administered the medicine to your wounds. It stung mildly, but the cooling effect it had became comforting soon enough. 

“So…” you broke the silence after you were satisfied with your work, “what did you do while I was… out?” 

Astarion exhaled through his nose and didn’t answer right away. “Oh, nothing special. A little of this, a little of that. My world doesn’t revolve around you, you know.”

“Sad,” you pouted, “because while I was unconscious, all I could hear was your voice.”

“Could you, now?” You could hear the grin in his voice. “I was all you could hear?”

“Mmhm,” you confirmed. “Which means you must have spent a lot of time by my side.” You risked a glance over your shoulder and saw Astarion’s hand hovering just above your back, frozen in place. 

He cleared his throat and continued to apply the salve. “And so what if I did?”

“Well, it’s just that there’s so much else you could have been doing,” you chuckled. “Like killing, or maiming, or drinking, or stabbing-”

You stopped talking when you felt his forehead press against your bare shoulder. He mumbled something against your skin, but you couldn’t make it out.

“What was that, my love?”

He sighed heavily and pulled back. “I was scared.”

“You… were scared? You?”

“Of course I was scared!” he exclaimed, looking irritated and confused. “I may already be dead, but it’s not your time yet. I would never wish that on you.”

You weren’t sure how to process that. 

Astarion.

Scared, on your behalf.

You knew he cared about you, that was obvious by now, he’d told you as much, but that was a fairly recent development. In the past, he’d only cared enough to save his own skin. He’d always watched your back, sure, but there were days where you knew he’d only helped you or another companion because it had been convenient for him in some way. Although, you had to admit, since you two had become… whatever you were, he’d seemed to take extra precaution when looking out for you. Both in battle and out.

“Astarion,” you said slowly when he returned from behind you to grab the fresh bandages, “what happened when the zombies got me?”

He remained quiet, fiddling with the bandages in his hands. 

“I carried you here.”

“Where is ‘here,’ exactly?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Not too far from those horrid singing mushrooms. They were no help.”

Your eyes went wide, knowing how far the journey from the Myconid colony to the decrepit village was, and how he must have traveled further than that to get here. You shook your head, banishing the thought. “How did you get to me from your platform?”

Astarion came close and unwound the bandages in his hands again, making sure he had the right amount. “I may or may not have… gone into a blind rage, killed some dwarves, yelled at Gale… It was no big deal.”

“And then you… carried me.”

“Yes.”

“All the way here.”

“Yes.”

“And then?”

“And then I helped Halsin with healing you. Why does it matter?”

“You…” You trailed off and allowed Astarion to start wrapping the bandages around your middle. Your eyes were unfocused on something in the distance and your mind was blank; too overwhelmed with thoughts to think anything at all. You shook your head to bring yourself back into the moment with him.

His voice was quiet. “I’ve been powerless far too often in my life. Seeing you go down, and not being able to stop it, it… broke something in me.”

You watched him carefully.

“If I was powerless in that situation, and you… If I’d lost you, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t lose me then,” you said, attempting to lift the mood while focusing on his hands.

He shook his head and paused with the wrapping. “Shadowheart said I was ready to burn the world. I think she was right.”

“I’m touched,” you joked again.

“I’m serious, darling.” He picked up where he left off with the bandages.

“You were that worried about me? Even though you were also surrounded by enemies?”

“Oh, believe me, I’m not pleased about this turn of events. Normally, in a setting like that, I’d be mostly worried about myself. But lately I seem to somehow be worried about you more.” He hummed as if he were surprised to hear himself say that aloud. 

You brought a hand up to gently wrap around his forearm as he continued wrapping you up. He met your eye fondly.

“You give me something to care for. And that’s worth the peril.” He smiled at you for a moment, then pulled on the bandages to make sure they were tight enough. “Is this alright?”

Try as you might to not let him see, your eyes welled up with tears. “Fine, yes.”

“Oh gods, don’t lie, you’re crying!” He immediately began to loosen the bandages and you started laughing.

“No, no, dummy,” you wiped a tear and stopped his hands with your own. “I care about you, too.” 

“We’ve established that, darling,” but his eyes went soft. “Let me finish this, you sap,” he gestured to your bandages, still not properly secured, and you released his hands. He once again returned to wrapping the wound and pulled the bandages tighter, but not as tight as before. They were firm enough that they wouldn’t fall, and you could still breath easily, despite the mild ache that lingered in your stomach. He tucked the end into the top of the wrapping beneath your chest. “There now, my sweet. All patched up.” He brushed both hands through your hair before resting them gently on your shoulders.

You smiled at him, but something occurred to you upon hearing the affectionate nickname. “Is there a reason you haven’t called me ‘my love’ since I woke up?”

Astarion looked taken aback. “Erm…”

You were quick to explain: “It’s my favorite. That’s why I call you that, too.”

“Your favorite…” Astarion stared at you blankly for a second and his hands squeezed your shoulders absently.

You could practically see the cogs in his head turning. You brought a hand to cup his cheek. “If I did something-”

Astarion shook his head. “No, darling, you did nothing wrong. Other than almost getting yourself killed, I mean. It’s just that… I’m in the process of coming to terms with how I feel - about you.”

Oh.

Oh.

He’d thrown “love” and “my love” around so casually, practically the entire time you’d known him. Abruptly stopping their use was incredibly unlikely unless it was deliberate.

Did this mean he was starting to rethink those words? And what it meant to say them to you?

Did that mean he… loved you?

Your heart started pounding as a million jumbled thoughts entered your mind. It seemed like Astarion noticed the change in your pulse.

“If that scares you-”

“No!” You were grinning widely and tried to hide it behind your free hand. “Take all the time you need, my love.” You hoped calling him by your preferred pet name might convey how you felt, but you didn’t want to scare him off. You knew better than anyone how new this was to both of you.

“Thank you,” he said, taking your hand and kissing the inside of your wrist. “Now lie down, would you? You need more sleep.”

You handed him your now empty bowl of stew. “But… I’m not tired.”

Astarion gave you a look as if to say really?

“I’m not! I’ve been sleeping all day!”

“And for good reason, might I add.”

The two of you stared at each other, willing the other to give in. Astarion rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he said, annoyed. He reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

“Carnal desires,” you reminded him in a scolding manner.

“I don’t plan on ravishing you right now, dearest,” he said, a bit of bite in his words. “If you’re not going to sleep, at least lie down with me.”

He moved the medical supplies off of the makeshift bed and blew out a few candles as he awaited your answer.

You nodded, a smile overtaking your features. “I’d like that.”

“I’ll be gentle,” he said as he got onto the pile of pillows and placed his knees on either side of your hips. He took your arms and wrapped them around his neck.

“I know,” you said, using him as an anchor to lower yourself onto your back and further into the pillows.

When he was satisfied with your position, Astarion carefully lifted himself from hovering above you and transitioned himself to curl into your side. You stayed on your back so as to not jostle your wound, but turned your head to look at him. He watched you intently, his hands palm-to-palm and resting under his cheek. You ran your hand through his hair. 

“I couldn’t reach you,” you said.

“When?” Astarion lifted his head slightly.

“When I was sleeping. I could hear you, but I couldn’t see you. And it hurt to try and get to you.”

“Oh, my darling,” he said, running a hand along your cheek. “I’m here now.”

“I know,” you repeated, warmth overtaking your chest.

“Nervous it’ll happen again if you sleep?” he asked. When you nodded, he nodded back in understanding. “Nightmares are dreadful.”

“Any tips?”

“Hmm… not really.”

“Thanks.”

Astarion laughed softly and reached for your hand. “I’ll stay awake with you for as long as you need.”

“You need your rest, too.”

He clicked his tongue. “If you think I’m going out with the others tomorrow, you’re a bigger fool than I thought.”

You exhaled an amused breath and turned your head back up towards the top of your tent to sort through some of your many tangled thoughts.

While it was true that you and Astarion hadn’t known each other for very long, it floored you how much of a change you saw in him now versus when you’d first met. Back then, he was cruel, and violent, and prone to laughing at the misfortune of others. Now, he was still all of those things, but there was also this soft side of him that he continued to surprise you with. He’d actively chosen to stay by your side all day, even though he could have let the others handle your care. He probably would have opted for that option just a few weeks ago. He was also making the choice to stay at camp with you tomorrow, rather than venture out with the rest of your party to be rewarded by the Myconids for your efforts, and possibly spill more blood throughout the Underdark. Knowing how much he loved to spill blood, that was a big deal. 

He’d also shown you the most tender affection the first night you’d slept together and every heated encounter since; he was showing he cared in the ways he knew how. He was trying his best (for the most part), and that’s what mattered to you. Astarion could take all the time he needed to sort out his feelings.

But you knew how you felt.

“So other than the peril, are you enjoying the Underdark?”

Astarion groaned. “Really?”

“Yes.”

He let out a long exhale, the cool air of his breath tickling your neck. “You know, for all the time I spent lurking in the shadows, I’ve never ventured into the Underdark before.”

“So you’ve told me,” you squeezed his hand.

“Hardly a… luxurious setting, but it definitely has its upsides for a vampire.” 

You nodded, still looking up at the top of your tent. 

“Or its… undersides? Because it’s - you know what I mean.”

You snorted at his feeble attempt at a pun. “Boooo,” you teased and looked over at him.

“I’ve been awake for nearly 24 hours, need I remind you.”

“Then trance, idiot.” You poked his nose.

“I said I would stay awake with you.”

“I’ll be alright,” you insisted, “though I appreciate the offer, my love.”

Astarion blinked slowly, his eyes suddenly heavy with sleep. It was as if he were finally allowing himself to relax, now that he was able to hear your voice again. He wore a lopsided grin as his eyes drifted closed. 

“I really did miss you,” he murmured, his voice soft.

“I missed you, too.” You brought your clasped hands up to your mouth and kissed the back of his hand. “Thank you for saving me.”

He didn’t properly respond, and instead hummed out a sleepy acknowledgement. 

“You’re so heroic.”

“Mmm.”

“And handsome.”

“Mhm.” He inhaled and exhaled deeply.

“Thank you for staying by my side.”

This time he didn’t respond. He looked entirely peaceful and his lips were parted slightly.

“Maybe I spoke too soon,” you laughed quietly, brushing a loose hair out of his face. “You should sleep though,” you said more to yourself than to him. “I can’t imagine how tired you must be.”

You watched his chest rise and fall with the unnecessary breaths he still took after all these years. You couldn’t believe that mere moments ago, he’d admitted that he was beginning to care more for your safety than for his own. Much less that he might even love you.

Astarion made a small sound, like a tiny grunt from the back of his throat that you’d come to learn meant that he was likely out cold. He rarely fell asleep before you did, given how little rest elves needed, which only further showed how exhausted he truly was.

“I love that noise,” you smiled. 

You turned your head back up to the top of your tent and sighed. “I love how funny you are. And I love how even though you’re incredibly intelligent, you’re the dumbest man I’ve ever met.” You looked back at him. His slumbering expression remained unchanged. “I love your eyes, and your ears, and the annoying way you put your hand on your hip when you think you’ve gained the upper hand in something.” You squeezed his hand ever so slightly and watched to make sure his features stayed even. “I love how kind you pretend you aren’t and how fiercely you deny it when I bring it up. I love your laugh, and how gently you hold me when you feed, and how you think about me when you could so easily think of yourself instead.” 

Again, you brought his hand up to your mouth and kissed his fingers.

“I love you, Astarion.”

You couldn’t be sure, but you swore you could see the slightest smile on his face as you felt your eyes flutter closed and you drifted into your own contented sleep.

[aberrant-annie]

Awfully Fond of You

Request: i was wondering if you’d be willing to write a little something for act 1, during the tiefling party for an autistic tav who has a crush on astarion but also has body insecurities + SA trauma, maybe instead of the usual scene that goes down they request to bathe with astarion instead? a tav with poor interoception (sense of awareness with one’s body) who loves to help and touch others but doesn’t quite register others touching them or how they feel about it but still craving intimacy with astarion is something i’m obsessed with (*^^*)*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* i love your writing style and NEVER request so im super nervous!!  - 🪴 (Link to original request here).

Pairing: Astarion x gn!reader Rating: 18+ - no smut, but mature themes Word Count: 7.7k CW: Very vague alludes to SA trauma, reader is a sweetie pie, Astarion is an idiot as always - No explicit smut this time; this one's mostly fluff! Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3

a/n: Hello folks! I come bearing my very first request fulfillment! As you can tell from the ask, 🪴 anon wanted something very personal and sweet, and I'm incredibly honored that they chose me to see their vision come to life. I did my best to hit every beat they requested, while also staying true to my writing style, which, of course, means there's plenty of banter to be had. Yes, it is a bit similar to An Evening To Ourselves and Perfect Every Time (I swear I was in the middle of writing that one when I received this request), but I'm pleased with how this new remix of Astarion's Act 1 romance scene turned out! And yes, the title IS based on a lyric from everyone's favorite Sesame Street bath time song, "Rubber Duckie." HIT IT, BOYS! (Thank you, as always, to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) NOTE: This Tav is completely separate from bard!Tav and does not take place in the same universe as Beauty and the Bard. Part 5 of that coming soon! And my request box is open!

Without further ado, 🪴 anon, I hope you like it!

The air in camp was abuzz with laughter and cheer. Booze flowed into goblets and down throats, and smiles graced the faces of nearly every guest currently in attendance of the last minute celebration thrown together by you and your companions.

With the goblins and their leaders defeated in what turned out to be a rather difficult encounter, Halsin and Zevlor had insisted on celebrating with you and your party at your campsite before the tieflings made their way to Baldur’s Gate within the next few days. 

Alfira supplied the evening with a somewhat constant stream of joyful songs, only stopping every so often to enjoy a drink with Lakrissa, while other tieflings danced and mingled with each other, relief and excitement making their shoulders relax as they reached for more goblets of wine. 

You were in the process of making your rounds through the party; you’d shared a drink with Shadowheart, some jokes with Gale and Karlach, a quiet moment with Wyll, and a confusing conversation with Lae’zel about limbs being torn from a neogi? You weren’t entirely sure what those even were, but you had to assume they were a fearsome creature if Lae’zel was bringing it up. 

That only left Astarion.

To be honest, you’d been avoiding him all night. Try as he might to catch your eye whenever you passed by, whether it be with a pointed clearing of his throat or a blatant call of your name, you would zero in on something else, and focus all your attention on that. Even if it meant sitting through an extended conversation with Volo. 

But now, there was nowhere left to go. Unless you opted to avoid him completely. And that would only lead to questions from your companions that you wouldn’t know how to answer.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like him. No. In fact, it was the exact opposite. You liked him a lot. And you weren’t sure what to do about it. 

Astarion was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen and you were… you. You’d been you, your whole life, and knew for a fact that the pair of you were an odd couple. Where he was crass, you were kind. Where he was violent, you opted to talk things through. 

And yet, you couldn’t help but enjoy spending time with him. His bloodlust was fascinating to watch, and you loved sparring both physically and verbally with him. More than once, you’d both saved the other’s ass in a sticky situation during battle. More than once, you’d allowed him to drink from you to ease his sanguine hunger. 

You were pretty sure that at the very least, he considered you a friend, though you weren’t sure he’d ever directly admit that to you. Unlike Gale and Wyll, who often reminded you how much they appreciated your friendship, Astarion was much tougher to read. Yet despite his somewhat malicious name calling and disapproval towards your actions, you couldn’t help but feel that he had a soft spot for you. Even when you were telling him he couldn’t kill a man in cold blood, it seemed like he legitimately enjoyed your company. The thought made you smile softly.

Taking in a deep breath and straightening your posture, you finally willed yourself to approach the vampire.

His eyes lit up in that way they often did when he was preparing to tease you.

“There you are, darling,” he said, dramatically. “I was worried I’d never see you again.”

“Worried I’d leave you, huh?” you teased with a smirk. 

Astarion tsked. “Perish the thought. But I recognize someone avoiding me when I see it.”

“Ah,” you clasped your hands in front of yourself, looking down at the ground, “you noticed that.”

“When I usually have to pry you away from me, yes, I noticed.” He took a swig of the wine he was holding.

You nodded and bobbed back and forth on your toes. “Best for last, I guess?” you shrugged your shoulders and smiled at him, hoping he’d drop the subject.

He hummed lamely. 

“So,” you perked up, “are you enjoying the party? I see you’ve been indulging in the spirits.”

“Watching me, were you?” Astarion smirked and you held up your hands, caught.

“Guilty.”

“You know,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “I never pictured myself as a hero.”

You reached out to squeeze his arm. “Don’t say that.”

His eyes met yours, and he gently pulled his arm out of your grasp. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” He closed his eyes and took another swig of his wine. When he brought the bottle away and opened his eyes, he met you with a scowl. “I hate it. This is awful.”

You laughed. “Really? Saving lives is awful?” 

Astarion rolled his eyes. “We killed some goblins to save some tieflings. The tally of lives didn’t change much.”

“You’re awful,” you shook your head affectionately. 

He looked smug before puffing his chest. “And what do I get for all my hard work?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

“Nothing but a pat on the head, and vinegar for wine.” 

You pursed your lips and reached for the bottle, brushing your fingers against his own. 

“Let me try,” you said, lifting the bottle to your lips and taking a sip. Your tongue was flooded with the bitter taste of fermented grapes and something else you couldn’t place. Your face scrunched at the flavor and Astarion snorted.

“See what I mean? Awful.”

You handed the bottle back to him, smacking your tongue to get rid of the aftertaste. He took the opportunity to continue speaking.

“All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?”

You let out an amused scoff. “Knowing you, it probably is.”

Astarion lifted a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Oh, don’t be so sour. I like a good time as much as anyone.”

“‘Sour,’” you repeated, pointing at his wine bottle. “Good one.”

He smirked. “You know, we could always make our own entertainment, darling.”

“Oh, really?” You lifted an eyebrow. “And what does that entail?”

“We could get a little closer, so to speak.”

You were suddenly very aware of how close you were standing to Astarion. You took a considerable step backwards and crossed your arms. 

“Sorry, I was really close to you just now, wasn’t I?” You rubbed up and down your bicep awkwardly.

Astarion blinked before his face settled into a seductive smirk. He reached his free hand out to rest on your hip. “On the contrary, my dear. I rather like it when you’re close.”

“Oh, good,” you sighed in relief. You brought your hand down to where Astarion’s rested on your hip. “Sometimes I can’t tell.”

He chuckled, squeezing your hip slightly. “So what do you say?”

“To us getting closer? I don’t mind!” To emphasize your point, you took a step forward and rested your other hand on his shoulder.

Astarion furrowed his brow. Then he chuckled again, gently removing both of your hands from his body. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, let’s wait until things quieten down. Once the others are asleep, we’ll find each other.”

“Okay, now I’m really interested in what kind of entertainment you have planned.” You smirked at him, sensing a shift in his tone, but unsure of what it meant. “Don’t tell me you’re a master of shadow puppets or something.”

He smiled skeptically. “Very funny,” he said slowly. “But I trust you’ll meet me?”

You giggled. “Yes, I’ll see you later, Astarion.” 

“Indeed you will, my love. Indeed you will.” Rather than bid you a proper goodbye, Astarion brought the wine bottle to his lips once more and turned away from you. 

You spun on your heel and made your way back to the party. 

This was fine. Good, even! Spending time one-on-one with Astarion was probably exactly what you needed if you wanted to navigate this silly crush you’d developed. Sure, he’d just called you “my love,” and that was a new one, but it wasn’t that much different from the other pet names he threw at you and your companions. You didn’t need this foolish infatuation distracting you on your journey or, gods forbid, diverting your attention during battle. No, this would be the perfect time to remind yourself and your fluttering heart that Astarion was, first and foremost, your friend, and a person. It didn’t need to be anything more than that. 

Your feet carried you not too far from Astarion’s tent and landed you at Karlach’s tent, the tiefling in question currently lying on her back, looking up at the stars.

“Hey, Hot Stuff,” you said, standing over her. 

“Soldier!” she grinned, her eyes a bit fuzzy from the wine. 

“This seat taken?” You kicked your foot over some dirt to her left. 

“All yours,” she said, sitting up to join you. 

You settled down next to her and watched the party still taking place at the center of camp. It sounded like Gale and Lae’zel were having some sort of heated argument over which main courses were best to prepare for battle, while Halsin awkwardly weaved between them to gather a plate of food for himself.

“Saw you chatting up Fangs just now,” Karlach playfully air-elbowed you, careful not to accidentally touch and scorch you. “Did he have anything good to say?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” you shrugged. “He was an ass to me, I was an ass to him, the usual.”

Karlach nodded. “Sounds about right.”

You both sat in pleasant silence for a moment before you laughed a little. “It’s funny, he actually asked me to spend time with him tonight, after the party.”

Karlach furrowed her brow. “After the party? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you shook your head, “he said we could ‘make our own entertainment.’” You made air quotes when you repeated his words. “I figure he wants to read together or something. It was just weird how he phrased it.”

She sat up a little straighter, her expression growing more serious. “Hang on, what were his words, exactly?”

You leaned back a little, confused by her sudden interest in your mundane conversation with the vampire. “Um… I don’t know. He said he didn’t like being a hero, I told him not to say that, he said he wanted more than a pat on the head and bad wine, I tried the wine and it was bad, he said he wanted a little fun, ‘is that so much to ask?’ and I said ‘knowing you, it probably is,’ and then he said we could make our own entertainment. Or something like that.”

“Huh.” Karlach thought for a moment. “I think he means to bone you, Soldier.”

You sputtered out a laugh. “What?! No he doesn’t!”

“He sooooo does!” Karlach barked out a laugh. “And good for you! I know I’d ride him to the Feywild and back if I had the chance.”

“He does not,” you said again, trying to convince yourself as much as you were trying to convince Karlach. 

But you faltered. 

“Does he?”

“Soldier,” Karlach lowered her head at you, giving you an incredulous look, “he was absolutely asking you to get nasty with him.” 

“Are you serious?”

“Yes!” she threw her hands up in the air. “We all see the way you look at each other! You practically undress one another with your eyes every time you see each other!”

“No we don’t!” you argued, but shrank back when Karlach raised an eyebrow at you. 

“You do. You know you do.” 

“Am I that obvious?” you asked, lifting your hands to your cheeks as you felt them heating up. 

Karlach started counting on her fingers. “He’s always the first one you check on after a battle, you’re always walking next to him when we’re traveling, AND you let him drink your blood. Weirdly often. Which is gross.”

“I like helping him,” you countered weakly. “And I always check on you guys, too!”

“Of course you do, Soldier, but we can all see how you two treat each other differently.”

You peered over at Astarion’s tent. He lounged comfortably amongst his pillows, a book propped open in his lap and his bottle of wine was not too far off. 

How could he be so casual and relaxed about all of this? The thought of talking to him later tonight made your stomach drop.

“What if I turn him down?” you asked softly, leaning forward to hug your knees.

Karlach’s expression softened. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” She reached out a hand, but retracted it. “If I could, I’d rub your back like my mum used to do when I was a kid.”

You smiled over at her. “Thanks.”

She nodded. “If you don’t want to sleep with the leech, that’s your choice. Don’t let him talk you into it if it’s not what you want.”

“I’m not entirely sure what I want,” you admitted, looking up at the familiar stars above.

Karlach sighed. “Well, you don’t have to decide anything tonight.” She nodded her head towards his tent. “In fact, I could go beat the shit out of him, if you’d like.”

You laughed. “Not necessary. But I appreciate the offer.”

“I’ll do it.”

“I know you will,” you smiled and settled your cheek on top of your knee. “I do really like him,” you confessed.

Karlach thought for a moment. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the problem?” She cocked her head curiously.

You sighed. “Sex isn’t really something… I have a great relationship with.”

“Ah,” Karlach nodded. “Same,” she joked, flaring her flames a little for good measure.

You snickered quietly. “I won’t get into it, but… yeah. No thanks. For now, at least.”

“Say no more,” she held up her hand and turned to observe Astarion at his tent. “You could always just see what he has to say? Maybe he just wants to show you he’s a master at shadow puppets or something.”

“That’s what I said!” you laughed, and Karlach joined in.

When you’d both settled, she spoke again. “But seriously, Soldier. Astarion may be a freaky vampiric bastard, but I don’t think he’d hurt you.”

“I don’t think he would either.”

“He knows we’d kill him.”

“I’m sure you’d all take turns sending him to the hells.”

“You bet your sweet ass we would,” she brought her fist to her hand as if preparing to punch this hypothetical Astarion. 

After another quiet moment, she spoke again. “You don’t have to go with him tonight. Or, I could come with you, if you want. As backup.”

“Thanks,” you said, “but I think I need to have this conversation with him alone.”

“Of course.”

You looked back over at Astarion’s tent. He was now standing and stretching his arms over his head. When he caught you watching him, he smirked and threw a wink in your direction. You quickly snapped your head forward, back towards the center of the party. Groaning, you brought your hands up to cover your face.

“What am I gonna do?”

~~~~~

Staring into the trees ahead of you, you remained frozen in place. 

The party had died down and dispersed about an hour ago, giving you and your companions plenty of time to perform a quick cleanup and head to bed. And just as Astarion had said, once a peaceful quiet had enveloped the camp, he’d come to your tent and wordlessly motioned for you to follow him. 

Now you were wringing your hands, trying to convince yourself to follow after him into the forest.

Karlach was right: you didn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to do. And Astarion was a reasonable guy. 

To a degree.

Okay, no he wasn’t. 

He was always prepared to kill someone who wronged him in an instant. But surely he’d be reasonable in this department. Your gut told you that that was true. And if it wasn’t, you’d sicc Karlach and the others on him. 

You knew it wouldn’t come to that, though. You felt strongly that he was the type who wouldn’t react rashly to a rejection. 

Before you’d even made up your mind to do so, you found yourself walking into the trees, following the general direction you’d seen Astarion head off towards. The least you could do was hear him out. And who knew, maybe this would be a funny anecdote in your friendship later on down the line. Only time would tell.

It took a few minutes of mindless wandering before you reached a clearing. You kept going, prepared to keep walking until you eventually found Astarion, when you spotted him emerging from behind a tree in your peripheral. 

You screeched to a halt and turned to face him, growing stiff with nerves when you realized he was shirtless. 

“There you are,” he said, his hand lingering on the tree behind him. “I’ve been waiting.” 

He approached you slowly. 

Seductively. 

You stood completely still.

He continued, “Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you.”

You swallowed thickly.

He moved even closer. “Waiting to have you.”

“About that,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady, “what exactly do you mean?”

Astarion’s sensual expression morphed into one of confusion. Then he laughed a little. “Isn’t it obvious? Tonight is about pleasure.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” you muttered.

While you were pretty sure he heard you, Astarion pressed on anyway. 

“Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy.”

“Astarion,” you said quickly, surging forward to grab his hands in yours, “please.”

He looked surprised, but quickly recovered with an alluring smirk. “Please what, darling?”

“We don’t have to.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes skeptically. “Don’t have to what?”

You groaned and leaned your head forward to rest on his bare shoulder. After a second you lifted your face back up to look at him. “We don’t have to sleep together.”

This time, Astarion looked stunned. “Then… what are you doing here?” 

You shrugged. “I thought we could talk.”

Astarion pulled away from you and took a step back. “‘Talk?’ I thought we had an understanding?”

“See, that’s the thing,” you said, “I did not understand.”

“Hmm,” he hummed and tilted his head in disbelief.

“I’m serious,” you said, stepping closer to him again. “I thought you wanted to spend time together.”

“Oh, but I do,” his lips quirked up mischievously. “I mean to spend the entire night with you, my dear.”

“And while that sounds great, I think you and I are having different thoughts about how to spend that time.” You held his gaze, willing him to hear you.

He humphed. “So you don’t want to have sex with me?”

“Not right now, no.”

He sputtered his lips together and threw his arms up. “And what does that mean?”

“It means… It means I don’t want to have sex right now. At all.” You watched his face scrunch in incredulity. “It has nothing to do with you!” you clarified, grabbing one of his hands again. “Believe me, this is all me.”

Astarion looked you up and down, scanning your body language. You still held his hand and leaned into him ever so slightly. 

“What’s this then?” he asked, placing his free hand over the hand holding his.

You pulled away from him completely. “Sorry,” you said, “I end up touching the people I like. I don’t realize I’m doing it.”

He narrowed his eyes, putting the pieces together in his head. 

“You like me.”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t want to sleep with me.”

“Yes.”

“So… what? You want to be friends or something?” He made a sour expression.

You laughed softly. “I’d like to think we’re already friends, actually.”

“And why would you think that?” Astarion asked, but you saw in his eyes that he was teasing.

You smiled lightly. “Maybe because you won’t stop following me around Faerûn?”

“Well, it’s not like I-”

“Or maybe because you’ve had a taste of my blood and now you can’t get enough?”

“Okay, that’s-”

“Or maybe because Karlach said you treat me differently than you treat everyone else.”

“She did not!” Astarion sounded genuinely scandalized and you laughed.

“Face it, pretty boy, you like me, too.”

Astarion groaned and rolled his eyes. “This is not at all going how I planned.”

You pursed your lips and wrapped your arms around yourself again. “Sorry.”

He glanced back at you and saw you staring at the ground. He sighed. 

“No, I’m sorry, darling.”

You met his eyes. He stepped closer and placed his hands on your cheeks. Instinctively, you leaned into his touch. 

“I assumed you wanted the same thing as me, and I was wrong.”

“It’s okay,” you assured. “You couldn’t have known.”

“Still,” he said, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek, “I misread your touches as advances rather than…” He searched for the proper words. “One of your quirks.”

You exhaled, amused. “You didn’t entirely misread me.”

“Pardon?”

“I do like you. A lot. And if things were different, maybe I would sleep with you, but…”

Astarion pulled away from you and held up a hand. “No explanation needed, darling.” He smirked. “But it's good to know how you feel.”

You felt your cheeks go red. “Yeah,” you said, suddenly shy.

Astarion clicked his tongue. “You’re so adorable when you’re thinking of what to say.”

You shook your head and patted your cheeks. “I have another idea,” you said.

He nodded for you to continue and crossed his arms.

“Um… if it’s alright with you, I…” You paused, not exactly sure how he’d react. 

“What is it, darling?”

“I’d like to… bathe you.”

Astarion uncrossed his arms and looked rather dumbfounded.

“What?”

Your words came out clumsily and a little too fast: “Or not! I don’t know, I just like you so much, and I’d like to be closer to you but I don’t want to have sex with you so I thought maybe we could get closer another way, or maybe-”

“Okay,” Astarion interrupted.

“Huh?”

He moved closer to you and brushed some hair out of your face.

“Okay,” he repeated softly. “Let’s bathe together.”

“Oh,” you said, disbelief painting your features. 

Astarion laughed. “Did you assume I’d say no?”

You shrugged as a smile grew on your face. “I don’t know what I expected,” you reached for his hand, “but I’m really glad you said yes.”

~~~~~

The walk back to camp was pleasantly silent, save for the crickets singing their nightly aria. Astarion kept pace with you, the back of your hands brushing every so often, each time sending a tiny shock wave through your body. 

This was happening. You were going to have a private, intimate moment with Astarion. Even if it hadn’t been what he originally intended, you were happy to think of a compromise that still allowed you to get close to him in a way that you knew the others in camp hadn’t, and probably wouldn’t. It made you feel special.

Happy.

And nervous. 

Nervous as all hells, to be honest. You felt your heart speeding up with every step you took, bringing you closer to camp.

“Something wrong, darling?” Astarion asked, giving you a sideways glance.

You jumped a little when his voice broke the silence. “Huh?”

“Your heart, love. It’s pounding.” He waggled his eyebrows teasingly. “Nervous?”

“Oh, that.” You held a hand to your chest and focused on slowing your breathing. When you turned to look at him, you asked, “Is that weird?”

“Seeing as how this was your suggestion, maybe a little.” He smiled and nudged his shoulder into yours.

You groaned. “If this is too weird, let’s just not.”

Astarion halted and grabbed your wrist to stop you. He spun you to look into his eyes. “Whatever’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, darling, cut it out.”

“Oh, okay great. Done.”

“Really?”

“No, not really!” You narrowed your eyes at him.

He sighed. “Never is that easy, is it?”

It was a rhetorical question, but you shook your head anyway. 

“Well, whatever’s making you nervous, I’ll strive to steer clear of it.”

He looked at you expectantly, as if he wanted some sort of explanation. You avoided his eyes and moved to continue walking towards camp. He followed close behind.

“It’s just that…” you paused, trying to collect your thoughts. “I haven’t been… naked in front of someone. For a while.”

Astarion bit his lip, mirth in his eyes.

“Don’t laugh!” you exclaimed, mortified.

“No, no, darling!” His tone was gleeful. “Apologies. It’s just that that’s what’s making you nervous? I’ll have you know that you’re one of the more beautiful creatures who I’ve attempted to bed. You have nothing to fear. I’ve seen all manner of bodies and I can assure you, yours will be nothing short of exquisite. In fact, your shyness is rather endearing.” He smiled at you, looking like he might still be withholding a laugh.

You flattened your lips into a line. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.” You began walking ahead of him but stopped when you heard him call your name.

“I may be a rake and a thief, but I’m no liar.”

You blinked at him. “Yes you are! You lie all the time!”

“Okay, yes, sure, but I don’t lie about things that matter! Things like this!” He motioned up and down, indicating your body.

Just as he did so, the two of you emerged from the trees and into camp. You held a finger to your lips and indicated for him to be quiet. He nodded and padded after you as you crept quietly towards the shore of the lake that lapped quietly next to your sleeping campsite. You bent to pick up towels, along with the bucket that held soap and other washing supplies that you and your companions shared in an effort to stay clean on the road. You held them up and motioned for Astarion to follow you again, away from where Withers stoically kept watch, and more towards where you’d spoken with Wyll earlier in the evening. When you turned to face Astarion, his eyes were full of questions.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” you asked.

He perked up and grinned. “My love, there is nothing I’d like more.”

You searched his eyes one more time to make sure he was serious. When you were satisfied with what you saw, you motioned for him to step into the lake. 

“Ladies first,” you teased, looking anywhere but at Astarion.

He, in turn, looked down his nose at you. “I know what this is,” he said, pointing a lazy finger at you.

“What’s what?”

“You’re stalling, darling.”

“I am not!”

Astarion crossed his arms and tilted his head towards you, unimpressed.

Your posture fell into a slouch. “Okay fine, maybe I am stalling.”

“Really?” Astarion said dramatically before dropping his arms to his sides again. He approached you, close enough to where you could feel his cool breath on your face. 

He placed both of his hands on your hips. You looked down to watch as his fingers drummed a calming rhythm into your sides. He whistled quietly, gaining your attention. 

“Let’s start here,” he suggested, now fingering the hem of your shirt. He refused to let you look away. 

You nodded.

“Good,” he purred as you raised your arms and helped him take off your shirt. 

The cool air of the evening immediately sent goosebumps down your arms, and you unconsciously crossed them over your chest for warmth.

Astarion tsked. “Come now,” he protested and placed two gentle hands on your wrists, guiding them to your sides. “Lovely,” he praised once he was able to look at you. 

You made an uncomfortable sound before placing your hands on your waistband. 

“These probably need to come off next, right?”

“Typically that’s how one bathes themself, yes.”

“Right,” you agreed, watching as Astarion mirrored you and reached for his own waistband. You looked down at your legs as you removed your pants, leaving you in only your underwear. 

“Goodness, love,” Astarion said quietly and you looked at him shyly. He himself was now only in his underwear. “You have nothing to be shy about. You’re magnificent.”

“Would you shush and get into the water please?” you half teased, half begged. Anything  to end this weird tension you were feeling. 

“Alright,” he laughed softly before reaching for the waistband of his underwear. He looked at you for approval. When you nodded, he removed them in one fluid motion as if he’d done this a million times. Maybe he had.

Regardless, you couldn’t help but stare at the space between his legs.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Eyes up here.”

“Sorry,” you said, immediately flicking your eyes up to his face. “I didn’t- It’s just-”

Astarion chuckled. “I understand.”

“Thank you,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“Your turn,” he said, lifting his eyebrows.

You bit your lip and slowly reached for your underwear. When you pulled them off, Astarion watched you without a hint of judgment in his eyes. You ran a hand through your hair and shifted nervously on your feet. 

He held out a hand to you and you stared at it before looking up at his face. He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not going in this frigid water alone, are you mad?”

You laughed and took his hand. He instantly pulled your body to his, holding you so that you were chest to chest. He gave you a seductive smirk before leaning in. You leaned away, avoiding his advances. You shook your head ever so slightly before stepping into the gentle water. Astarion remained standing on the shore before following after you. 

Braving the cold of the water, you sunk down until you were sitting in neck deep water. You let the bucket you’d brought with you float next to you as Astarion crept through the water, clearly freezing. 

“Why did I let you convince me to bathe at night? There’s no sun out to warm this wretched lake.”

You ducked your mouth below the surface to blow some bubbles in his direction. “You should know by now that dunking your whole body helps you warm up faster.”

He gave you a dirty look before slowly sinking down in front of you, yelping and contorting his face the entire time. You couldn’t help but squawk out a laugh. 

When he was fully seated, he pulled you towards him, making you sit in his lap. He gave you a sensual look that had you frowning and pulling back. He raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“When I said I wanted to bathe you, that’s all I meant.”

“Ah.” His tone was confused. Then he shook his head. “Right, sorry. This is - well… you know.” He smiled, looking like he was admitting defeat and that he wasn’t pleased about it. “I have no idea what to do with you.”

You swam behind him, pulling the bucket of soap towards you and laying your hands on both of his shoulders. “You don’t have to do anything.”

He spun to face you. “Nothing?”

You nodded and he huffed out a laugh. “No sex, no fooling around…I’m sorry, darling. It’s just - having to slow down, it’s… I’m just not used to it.” 

“That’s okay,” you rested your hands on his shoulders again. “We’re in no rush.”

He hummed. “Can you… I don’t know. Help? Show me what to do?”

Laughing, you took his hand. “I’ll try.”

You led your weightless bodies into shallower water and had Astarion sit facing away from you, towards the shore. Reaching for the bucket again, you pulled out a bar of soap and a sponge. 

“Relax,” you cooed, seeing how tensely he held his shoulders close to his ears. 

He let loose a breath and you watched as he relaxed his muscles. Your eyes traveled lower, suddenly catching a glimpse of a complicated and gruesome scar on his back. Your eyes widened, taking in how the water and moonlight reflected off of it. Calmly, you dipped the sponge in the water and added soap before gently rubbing his right shoulder. Astarion melted further, allowing his neck to tilt forward, which, in turn, gave you a better view of his scarred flesh.

“Um… Is it okay for me to wash your back?” you hesitated in bringing the sponge across his shoulder and over his back to his other shoulder.

“Why wouldn’t - oh. I suppose you’re talking about the poem.” He barely looked over his shoulder at you.

“I’ve never seen a poem like this,” you said quietly, a hint of anger in your voice.

He chuckled darkly in response. “It’s a gift from my old master, Cazador. He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas. Do you like it, darling?” He shimmied his shoulders, mockingly preening over the evidence of his own torment.

“Not at all,” you said evenly, continuing to wash his shoulders. 

“Ouch, love, you’d hurt his feelings if he heard that.” Not a hint of joy reached his eyes.

“I don’t much care about the feelings of this old master of yours.”

“Oh, be still, my undead heart,” he held a hand to his chest sarcastically. Then he sighed. “You’re allowed to wash it. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” His voice was quiet when he said, “Thank you for asking.”

Wordlessly, you moved the sponge from the back of his neck to his shoulder blades. 

“I’m not going to break,” he laughed softly, “you don’t have to be so gentle.”

You increased the pressure you were applying to his skin before adding more soap to the sponge. “Move up a little,” you instructed, tapping him to move closer to the shore. “Lean forward.”

Now you had a better angle to wash away the grime of the road from his back, and an even better view of the scar. You clicked your tongue and set to work. 

Perhaps uncomfortable by your silence, Astarion began to speak again. “He, Cazador, composed and carved that poem over the course of a night.” There was a venom to his words. Maybe a deep regret, or a weighing sadness. “He made a lot of revisions as he went.”

Your hand paused over a particularly brutal ridge. You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your cheek against the raised tissue. “You’re brave for enduring that.”

“What are you doing?” Astarion straightened, making you push your cheek further into his skin. 

You pulled back immediately. “Sorry, I wanted to hug you. I should have asked. I just… wanted you to know that I care.”

Astarion looked over his shoulder at you blankly. “You ‘care?’”

You nodded. “Turn back around, let me keep washing you.”

He gave you a slight nod before facing forward again and leaning over. 

After another silent moment of gliding the sponge across his back, you asked, “Any idea what it means? Or is it just some pattern?”

Astarion let out an unamused laugh. “Hells if I know. Not sure how much you know about vampires, darling, but typically, we can’t see our reflections.” He spoke as if talking to a child. 

You splashed his back with a small wave from your hand. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“You’re lashing out at me when I was just asking a question.”

“I-” He paused. Then he fell silent.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped but… I’m not your enemy,” you said gently. “We don’t have to keep talking about this. We don’t have to talk at all.”

Astarion groaned. “Silence is dreadful, darling.”

“Is that why you never stop talking?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood again.

“Good one,” he said flatly, but you could hear the smile in his voice. “I only talk because you lot never have anything interesting to say.”

You scoffed with a smile. “I have plenty of interesting things to say!”

“Oh, really? Like what?”

“Like-” you thought for a moment. “Like the other day! When I was talking with you about your embroidery!” By now you’d moved on to washing over Astarion’s arms. You spun him to face you so you could wash and massage his hands. 

Astarion clicked his tongue. “Unfortunately, darling, that’s not an entirely interesting topic, seeing as how I was in the middle of mending a shirt and you just wanted an excuse to talk to me.”

“I did not!” you denied, massaging between his fingers. Unconsciously, his fingers curled around yours before retracting and flexing. 

“Deny all you want, you still didn’t say anything interesting.”

“Hmm,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “If I’m so uninteresting, why did you want to spend the evening with me of all people?” You were massaging his other hand. 

“You-” He paused again.

“I?”

“You’re… I’m still trying to figure you out.” His voice grew softer when you pulled yourself closer to wash across his chest. You sensed the shift and looked up at his face to make sure he was okay with your actions. When he nodded minutely, you continued. 

“If you’re trying to figure me out… one might say that you’re interested in me.”

He groaned. “Say whatever you want to help you sleep better tonight, darling.”

“Uh huh,” you said pleasantly to yourself, feeling like you’d won. You looked away to add more soap to the sponge and when you looked back, you realized how close you were to his face. His pupils were blown wider than usual and you could see yourself reflected in his eyes against the moonlight. His breath tickled your face. 

He watched you with an intensity that had you hesitating. Why was he so-?

“Look up,” you said, looking up yourself to demonstrate what you wanted. “Please.”

He held your gaze for as long as he could before looking up at the sky. 

You carefully brushed the sponge along his throat, pausing briefly when you got to the twin wounds on his throat from the night he was turned. You circled them gently with the sponge before rinsing the suds with water cupped in your hand. A shiver ran through Astarion’s body.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said looking back down at you once you’d finished rinsing the suds away. “But I’d very much like to kiss you.”

You blinked a few times before resting your forehead against his. When you pulled back, you asked, “Is it okay for me to wash your hair?”

Astarion looked at you for a moment, his eyes flicking to your lips for a second before meeting your eyes again. “I suppose so,” he said.

“I don’t have to. Your legs are still-”

“I can handle my own lower half, thank you.” He winked at you.

You smiled and handed him the sponge before bringing yourself to rest behind him again. You gathered the bucket that was still floating nearby and submerged it until it was filled about halfway with water.

“You can either dunk yourself, or I can pour this over your head,” you held the bucket for Astarion to see.

“I’m actually quite enjoying you taking care of me, darling. I trust you won’t drown me.”

“A mistake,” you said, pretending to dump the bucket over his head all at once. “Can vampires even drown? It’s not like you need to breathe.”

“I’d rather not find out, if it’s all the same to you,” he smirked. 

Instead of dumping the entire bucket on his head like you threatened, you poured a gentle stream along the back of his skull before moving forward to evenly wet the rest of his hair. 

“Bloody hells, that is cold,” he pushed some flattened curls out of his face.

“For being a fearsome vampire, you sure are a wimp,” you teased. 

“I could rip your throat out.”

“And I might be able to drown you.” You placed firm hands on both his shoulders and pushed gently, as if you wanted to test your theory. 

“Terrifying,” he smirked, running the sponge along his legs underwater.

“You should see what I did to those goblins who were holding Halsin hostage.”

Astarion laughed. “I know, darling, I was there. Who knew you could be so hellbent on vengeance?”

You laughed softly, coating your hands in soap before running them through his curls. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Like?” he prompted.

“Astarion!” you exclaimed sarcastically. “You want to know more about me?”

“Well if I knew you’d make a fuss, I wouldn’t have said anything.” Despite his tone, his eyes were closed in pleasure as you continued to massage his scalp. 

You chuckled quietly, trying to think of something to share with him. 

“I’ve lived in Baldur’s Gate my whole life,” you started.

“A shame we never crossed paths.”

“I’m not entirely sure you’d spare me a passing glance.”

Astarion opened his eyes. “Don’t say that.”

You shrugged. “I read a lot, growing up, and liked being indoors. But I also liked the outdoors. I helped my dad tend our garden, and helped my mom cook dinner–”

“How quaint.”

“We’d visit my aunt in the Upper City every Midwinter, and I wanted to be a teacher when I grew up.” 

“Pity, you have such a promising career as a spa keeper.”

You examined Astarion’s head to make sure you hadn’t missed a spot. When you were pleased with your own work, you continued: “This is the first big adventure I’ve ever been on.”

“First brain worm?” Astarion opened one eye and pointed to his temple.

You laughed and nodded. 

He smiled. “Mine, too.”

You filled the bucket with more water and held a hand over his forehead to keep soapy water from splashing into his eyes when you poured the fresh water over his foamy locks. 

Astarion sighed as the soap began to wash away. You filled the bucket again to repeat the process. 

“Did you ever foresee yourself bathing a beautiful vampire, when you were a child?”

You pursed your lips. “I mean, I had my hopes.” You smiled as he let out a laugh. 

“Tonight definitely didn’t go how I expected,” he admitted.

“You didn’t foresee yourself getting bathed by your incredibly interesting leader?”

He let out an amused breath from his nose. “No I did not.”

You finished rinsing out the last of the soap from his hair, but continued raking your fingers through it. “Are you disappointed?” Your voice was small.

He turned to face you, making your hands disconnect from his curls. “Not at all,” he said, sounding genuine. “Pleasantly surprised, actually.” He thought for a moment. “And cleaner than I’ve been in weeks. Probably.”

You laughed. “Happy to have provided my services.”

He smiled at you, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “This was nice.” He lifted his hand to swipe through his hair. “Let’s hope you didn’t ruin my hair.”

“With soap and water?”

“You might have done it wrong,” he teased.

“How? It’s soap and water!”

“Not so loud,” he chuckled, nodding his head towards camp. You could vaguely hear Gale snoring in the distance. 

“I’m leaving,” you joked, moving to get up, but Astarion grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into the water.

“Am I not to return the favor?”

You looked back at him and half smiled, patting his cheek. “I’m not convinced you’d do a thorough enough job.” With that, you pushed away from him and got up, gathering the bathing materials and walking back to shore where towels awaited. 

Astarion sputtered behind you. “How dare you! I could give you a massage, the likes of which you’ve never experienced before!”

“You know, sometimes, Astarion, people do things for other people, and don’t want anything in return.” You threw the towel over your head to start drying your hair before wrapping it around your body. 

Astarion did the same before bending to pick up your discarded clothes. “I- Well… You-” He sighed heavily. “You’re a tricky one, aren’t you?”

“I’m not trying to be,” you shrugged.

“And yet,” he sidled up next to you, offering you his arm, “you are.” 

You took his arm in one hand and the bucket of washing supplies in the other and followed him as he led you back into camp. You placed the materials back where you found them and brought your newly freed hand up to wrap around Astarion’s arm. You leaned your head onto his shoulder. 

When you arrived at your tent, he handed you your clothes. 

“I suppose this is where we end our evening,” he said quietly so as not to wake the others.

“I suppose so,” you agreed, your eyes shining as you looked at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Thank you for letting me do that,” you said, still holding his arm. “I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

“I did,” he said. “Very much, actually.” When he saw the excited look on your face, he amended, “Don’t be weird.”

“I’m not weird,” you said, weirdly.

“Uh huh,” Astarion said, pulling his arm out of your grip, not unkindly.

“We can do it again,” you bobbed on your feet, “if you want.”

“I… could be persuaded,” he nodded.

“Good,” you said. Then you surged forward to kiss his cheek. “Thank you. Goodnight Astarion.” You turned and ducked down into your tent.

“Pleasant dreams, darling,” he said softly. 

You didn’t see how his hand lingered on his cheek where your lips had made contact, didn’t see the small smile that crept onto his face or the mask beginning to slip. 

Instead, you had pleasant dreams filled with laughs and curls and a flash of fangs accompanied by a smile of delight. 

[aberrant-annie]

An Evening to Ourselves

Summary: “I, uh-” It was too much. The look on his face was too intense. You felt too exposed despite the layers of armor currently clad to your body.  “I’m scared,” you admitted quietly. “Don’t be,” he whispered, leaning in and kissing you on the cheek. “I’ll be gentle.” OR When Astarion propositions you for the first time, you're anything but excited.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 17.6k CW: smut, loss of virginity, piv sex, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, dry humping, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, mild angst, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot) Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3

a/n: AH! This is the first ever fic I've posted; the idea came to me one night during Astarion Thinking Hours when I made myself laugh by imagining how if Astarion propositioned ME, I probably wouldn't realize what was happening. Thus, this one-shot was born. I kinda couldn't stop writing, hence the length. Please enjoy this silly/sickly sweet romp through my take/remix of Astarion's Act 1 romance scene. (Thank you to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!)

Edit: This is Part 1 to my "Beauty and the Bard" series. Find Part 2 here and the series masterlist here.

Astarion pinched the tip of his nose. “If we should meet again… We will have met again.” His voice came out nasally and ridiculous, a silly imitation of the deep gnome you just rescued from a group of restless goblins who had tied him to the slat of an old windmill.

A snort escaped your nose and you threw a hand to your mouth, holding in laughter. 

“Come on, Astarion,” Gale scolded, taking the lead back through the crumbled wall your team emerged through to arrive at the windmill. 

“Yeah,” Shadowheart agreed. “He sounded much more proper than that. More like-” She raised her nose in a judgemental fashion and added a high class lilt, “‘If we should meet again-’”

“Oh, come now,” Gale huffed as you, Astarion, and Shadowheart attempted to keep straight faces. “I think it’s rather noble that he’s set off in search of his friend. One can only hope he makes it in time…”

Now was your turn to pinch your nose for a silly voice. “One can only hope he makes it in time…”

“HA!” Astarion guffawed, pointing at the object of ridicule. “She nailed you just then, wizard.”

Gale tilted his head at you, a look of disappointment in his eye. “That didn’t sound anything like me.”

“Sorry Gale,” you walked forward and playfully punched his arm. “Didn’t mean for you to catch friendly fire. We’re just having some fun.”

The wizard humphed flatly. Then, after a moment: “He was rather rude, wasn’t he?”

Agreement buzzed between the four of you.

“You’d think he’d be more grateful,” Shadowheart looked back towards the windmill, in the direction where the gnome set off on his journey to the Underdark.

“Never expect anything but nuisance from a gnome.” Astarion sneered.

“He was probably just having a bad day. I mean, he was tied to that windmill for who knows how long,” you attempted to defend the poor guy, choosing to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Besides, he offered us his pack-”

Astarion let out an elegant laugh. “You’re right! It’s mine, none of you can have it.” He turned on his heel and stalked back towards the windmill, his head ducked down and his arms thrown out to his sides like wings as he moved quickly.

The remaining three of you watched him go.

“Rather aerodynamic, isn’t he?” Gale remarked. You and Shadowheart snickered.

“He does look quite ridiculous like that,” Shadowheart agreed. “He’d better be quick, though. My feet are killing me.” She bounced lightly from foot to foot.

You smiled over at your companions. “You two go ahead,” you nodded your chin off in the direction of camp, “I’ll go wrangle the problem child.”

Gale stepped closer to you and pointed a stern finger in Astarion’s direction. “Make sure he stays out of trouble.”

“I’ll do my best,” you responded, trying to match his serious tone, but couldn’t help the grin that wormed its way onto your face.

“Works for me,” Shadowheart stretched her arms above her head. “We’ll save you some gruel back at camp.”

You waved them off just as you heard Gale begin to argue that his cooking could NOT be considered “gruel.” Hiking your own pack up higher on your shoulders, you started back towards the windmill. 

There was no sign of the vampire, save for an open hatch beneath the stone of the tower leading into what you presumed was a cellar of sorts. Off to the side was a discarded set of Thieves’ Tools. Yup, that’ll be him.

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you began to descend into the basement below. 

Before you could even make it to the bottom, however, you heard Astarion’s voice tinged with annoyance. “Don’t bother, darling. I was just coming back up.”

You paused on the ladder and looked down at him. “That bad?”

“Eh, a few coins, some food. Nothing worth risking one’s life over. Foolish gnome.”

“Shame,” you pouted down at him, not an ounce of real sympathy behind the word.

He smirked as he met your eye. “Go,” he said, indicating you should climb back up the ladder. “There was a rather large amount of smoke powder though. That could be fun.”

When you emerged back into the early evening air, you turned to help Astarion out. “Maybe you can blow up a quaint little gnomish village.”

Astarion’s eyes glittered with delight. “Oh, do you think there’s one around here? That would be- Oh. You’re joking.”

You nodded.

“Gods, you’re no fun.” He sighed dramatically and then started back towards the Blighted Village proper. 

You scoffed in mock offense. “I’m a lot of fun!”

Astarion tsked. “If you have to say you’re a lot of fun, odds are, you’re lying to yourself.” He shot a challenging half smile at you from over his shoulder.

“How dare you,” you laughed.

“Such a pity, too,” he went on. “Aren’t bards supposed to be entertaining?”

You made a sound of agony, which had Astarion fully turning back to look at you. You threw a hand to your heart and staggered towards him. “You wound me, Astarion. Look upon me with pity and remember me fondly!” You set an arm on his shoulder and let your body weight go, as if collapsing from a killing blow. 

Astarion was quick to catch you under your arms. He made a show of groaning about how heavy you were now that your body had gone completely limp. After you’d hung loosely from his grip for a few seconds, he finally yielded. “Alright, enough.” 

You resumed control of your body and stood up straight, a smug look on your face. “I’m fun.”

“Dramatic.”

“Theatrical.”

“Annoying.”

“Endearing.”

“Loud.”

“Enthusiastic-”

Just then, a loud howl came from a barn a little ways off. 

You and Astarion eyed each other.

“Was that you?” Astarion asked.

“‘Was that me?!’ I’m not THAT loud.”

“Could have fooled me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Come on.” You started in a light jog towards the barn.

Astarion groaned. “You can’t be serious.” He caught up with you easily. “Haven’t we done enough heroing for today?”

You looked at him thoughtfully. “One more act of heroism probably won’t kill you.”

“It might!”

“Oh, now who’s being dramatic?” You came to a stop at the double doors.

“I-” Astarion floundered, then pursed his lips and crossed his arms.

“That’s what I thought.”

Approaching the door slowly, you pressed a finger to your lips to signal Astarion to stay quiet. He followed you, creeping closer. 

A guttural scream and a succession of quick bangs rattled the door. Then, a low moan rumbled from within. 

Behind you, Astarion let out a quiet gasp of glee and brought both hands up to his mouth, suppressing a smile. You lifted an eyebrow at him, then turned back to the door.

“Hello?” You didn’t falter when you heard Astarion’s airy giggle behind you. “Anybody in there? Are you hurt?”

An angry, booming voice yelled a response: “Go! Away!”

Your eyes widened at the stranger’s strangled tone and you looked over at Astarion who still appeared elated. 

Why was he so thrilled? Somebody in there could be hurt, and here he was, laughing. It sounded like there was more than one person inside… Was it possible that one person was hurting the other? That somebody was in danger? You supposed it did make sense that Astarion would take pleasure in the pain of someone else… Him and his twisted sense of humor.

Just as you were about to reach for the door, Astarion stopped you. 

“Wait! Don’t interrupt them.”

You narrowed your eyes. Did he really think he could stop you from helping them?

He frowned at you, then cocked his head and smirked. “Let me do it. They sound disgusting.” He chuckled and faced the door. 

Oh! So he wanted to take the lead on this rescue. You smiled and bowed, sweeping an arm towards the door. “Please, do the honors.”

Astarion grinned and rolled up his sleeves. He brought his arms out in front of himself and wiggled his fingers before connecting them with the doors and thrusting them open.

You inhaled a sharp gasp and averted your eyes. “Oh my gods!”

Inside, a bugbear was leaning over an ogress from behind. It was suddenly very obvious to you that no danger was taking place here. Just a mystery. How did their parts even-

“W-WHAT THE HELLS ARE YOU DOIN?!” The bugbear roared as he stepped away from the ogress and covered himself.

Beside you, Astarion laughed. Meanwhile, the ogress bared her teeth and growled.

“Apologies,” you said, eyes still averted, “I didn’t mean to interrupt!”

“I most certainly did,” Astarion clarified.

The ogress began to stand. “Ruined! Smash!” 

Both you and Astarion took a step back as she reached her full height.

“I’LL SMASH YOU!” Both the ogress and the bugbear lifted weapons.

“Dammit to hells,” Astarion muttered, then quickly made a break for the left, jumping behind some hay bales. The bugbear pursued him but Astarion was able to fire an arrow at him that connected with his shoulder.

“Astarion!” You called out, breaking right and drawing the ogress towards you, “Don’t kill them!”

“What? Why?!” He ducked behind another hay bale as the bugbear made a swipe for him with his mace.

“This is my fault! I thought they were in trouble!” You quickly reached behind yourself for your lute, strumming a tune that made the ogress stop in her tracks to listen.

Astarion laughed in disbelief. “You thought they were in trouble?”

“You didn’t?”

“No, darling, unlike some people, I can actually tell the difference between when someone is deep in the throes of passion versus when someone’s life is in danger. ” His tone in the latter half of the sentence was laced with irritation. He hopped over the hay bale and swiftly avoided another swipe from the bugbear. 

“Stop talking about us like we aren’t here!” The bugbear growled.

The ogress, on the other hand, was swaying slightly to the music emanating from your lute. 

“Listen to me,” you turned your head towards Astarion. “I need you to reach into my pack and get out a Scroll of Sleep.”

“You don’t just know that off-hand?”

“Astarion.” 

“Fine, fine.” The vampire drew out his daggers and slowly circled around the room, drawing the bugbear around so he wouldn’t be able to attack from behind. Astarion looked up at the rafters and saw a hay bale hanging precariously over the edge of a beam. If he angled his daggers just right…

He let the blades fly and when they connected with the hay bale, it fell from above, landing right on top of the bugbear. Astarion looked over at you with an excited grin to make sure you’d witnessed his victory.

“Yes, yes, you’re very good at knives,” you quipped. “Now get over here!”

“As you wish.” Astarion weaved his way across the barn and positioned himself behind you to look in your bag. You felt his cold breath on your ear. “Hello,” he purred.

Your fingers stumbled on a few notes and the ogress suddenly looked around, as if waking from a trance. 

“Wha-”

You scrunched your nose and kicked behind you at Astarion’s shin. 

He laughed out in pain, but you could feel him rummaging through your bag. The song you were playing resumed its hypnotic tones and the ogress seemed to calm down. 

“Remind me to never have you organize my wardrobe, darling. It is a mess in here.”

“I know where everything is!” You argued. “The scrolls are in alphabetical order.”

“My gods, you’re lame.” Astarion squinted into your bag, trying to read the titles of the spells in the dim light. 

“ASTARION!” You shouted and twisted as the bugbear suddenly reappeared, apparently having been able to push the hay bale off of himself. He was running like a madman around the right side of the barn, towards Astarion. 

Astarion reached for his daggers, only to come up empty. They were still in the hay bale on the other side of the barn. Swearing, he looked up just in time to see-

WHAM!

Your lute connected with the bugbear’s face with such force that he went down instantly. 

As a result, however, your lute was now shattered. Which meant there was about to be a very angry ogress on your hands.

Astarion quickly shuffled back to your bag and filed through your spells.

“Astarion…” You said hesitantly. Your body tensed as the ogress blinked a few times, growled, and began stomping her way towards you two.

“I’m going! I’m going! A HA!” Astarion pulled out the proper spell and leaned forward over your shoulder to shove it ungracefully into your hands. “Read it out read it out read it out!”

“Shut up shut up shut up!” You uncrumpled the spell and shouted “SOMNUM,” just as the ogress reared back to swing her club.

Instead, she went down heavily, instantly asleep.

You and Astarion stayed frozen in place. When it was clear the ogress was truly out cold, Astarion chuckled against your shoulder, still leaning into you from behind. 

You smiled. Then you joined in his slight chuckle, which turned into laughs, which turned into the both of you doubling over in wheezing delight.

“Have you ever seen anything so ghastly?” Astarion looked between the two unconscious creatures.

“Love finds a way,” you continued laughing.

“My dear, love had nothing to do with that,” Astarion wiped a tear from his eye and went to retrieve his daggers from across the barn. “That was all lust. And probably a bit of morbid curiosity to see if it was even possible.”

“Clearly it is,” you said. “Shows what we know about inter-species relationships.”

Astarion sheathed his daggers and came back around to see you picking up the broken pieces of your lute. You sighed and took off your bag, carefully making the pieces fit inside. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thank you.”

You looked up at him.

“For knocking out that bugbear. And for sacrificing your lute in the process.” He bent to pick up a piece that had slid across the floor and brought it over to you.

“It’s just a thing,” you said. “I can replace it. But I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I would have been fine,” he said quietly.

“Suuure,” you teased, aiming to lift the suddenly serious mood. 

“Eventually,” he amended.

You slipped the last piece of your lute into your bag and turned to face the doors, still ajar from when the two of you busted in. “You ready?”

Astarion nodded and trailed after you. 

A moment or two of silence passed on your way back to camp before you turned to look at your companion. He seemed lost in thought. You bit your lip.

“It’s not your fault, by the way. There are plenty of lutes in Faerûn,” you said. “I’m sure I’ll find another one in no time.”

“Hmm?” Astarion looked over at you. It was clear he hadn’t really been listening. 

You stopped short and turned to face him fully. “You okay?” When he didn’t answer right away, your eyes widened. “Did you get hurt and I didn’t see? I have a few healing spells-” You lifted your hands and aqua healing magic began to spark at your fingertips.

Astarion chuckled and reached for your hands, lowering them for you. His touch was ice cold on your clammy hands. You were still reeling from the fight.

“No, darling,” he said softly. “I was just thinking about you.” 

“About me?” You narrowed your eyes in confusion. “Why?”

“I was remembering our time together, the things we’ve shared - and I don’t just mean that lovely neck of yours.”

You dipped your head a little in embarrassment. 

It had been at least a tenday since you awoke in the middle of the night with Astarion hovering over you, his fangs bared in preparation to strike. Once he’d explained himself, you were more than happy to help him out with his hunger.

And the process hadn’t been entirely unpleasant either. The initial sting hadn’t been great, you’d admit, but the pleasant numbness that overtook you? Finding yourself being held so intimately by one of the most attractive men you’d ever seen? The act of helping your friend with something he needed that you could so easily give? Worth it. He’d fed from you a few times now, and while you needed Shadowheart’s help to feel better the next day, you kept returning to him.

“Aw shucks,” you said finally. Stupidly.

Astarion looked a bit thrown off by that response, but took a single step closer to you.

“I’m… starting to like the whole package, honestly. And you clearly like me too, so…”

You blinked at him. Of course you liked him. You liked all of your traveling buddies. What the hells was he getting at? 

“So..?”

He smiled at you and leaned a bit closer. “Come now. Don’t be coy. Your body’s already given you away.”

Your body? In what sense? You looked yourself up and down. Maybe something had come loose on your armor. Maybe Karlach had stuck a dumb sign to your back.

Astarion cleared his throat to bring your attention back to him. “I can feel it. Whenever I get lost in your neck.” He moved closer and brushed your hair away from your neck, revealing the fading puncture wounds from his previous feeding. You shivered as his knuckles grazed your throat tenderly. “Your little shakes of excitement…”

Blood roared through your ears as your heart picked up speed. 

He leaned in even closer to whisper in your ear, “You enjoy it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathed out before you could think. If he wasn’t careful, you might get the wrong idea. You opened your eyes, not realizing you’d closed them, and cleared your throat. “I mean, obviously I enjoy it. I keep coming back, don’t I?” Before Astarion could respond, you quickly added, “I also like that it’s helping you.”

The vampire pulled back to look you in the eye, his expression unreadable. Then a sly smile crept onto his face.

“I enjoy it too. More than words can say.”

“Good,” you said, holding his gaze. “I’m glad.”

Astarion hummed in thought. “You deserve a reward. I am so very pleased with what you keep giving me.” His eyes flashed down to your neck, then lingered on your lips, and finally landed back on your eyes. 

“Oh, I don’t need anything,” you shifted your gaze away, looking up at the sky turning pink above you. You laughed and looked back at Astarion, shifting your shoulder towards him to indicate your backpack. “I mean, maybe a new lute, but I’ll find one on my own. And getting rid of the tadpole might be nice… But, you know what? I did see you swipe a book that I’d been eyeing at the Grove so maybe that could-”

“Darling,” Astarion cut in, sounding a bit frustrated. “What I mean is, we could take an evening to ourselves - get away from camp.”

You looked around. You weren’t currently at camp. The expression you gave Astarion said as much. 

He sighed heavily. “We could get some privacy.” He gestured at some of the goblins milling about in the distance. 

You nodded slowly. He couldn’t be suggesting-

“I know somewhere quiet. Somewhere intimate.”

Oh no.

You went rigid. If Astarion noticed, he didn’t say anything and pressed on.

“Somewhere we can… indulge in each other.”

You were silent, your mind racing and yet no coherent thoughts were coming through.

Astarion searched your face, looking for any indication as to how you might respond.

You blinked a few times. “What do you-”

“By the hells!” Astarion looked up incredulously, as if someone were pulling a wicked prank on him. “Sex, my dear. A night of passion.”

You swallowed thickly. Then, after a moment, “With me?”

Astarion cocked his head as if he didn’t understand the question. “Obviously.”

“But… why?”

“Why?”

You nodded. 

The vampire schooled his features from a look of confusion, into one of cool calmness. His voice dripped with seduction. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? To lose yourself in me?”

It was true, you’d thought about having Astarion in that way. You’d have to be a fool to not appreciate his effortless beauty and devilish charm. Hells, most of the time you spent alone in your tent was occupied with thoughts of him; his laugh, his smirk, his hands… But you never imagined he would ever reciprocate the thought! Part of the fun was that you knew it would never happen. That you were safe.

“That didn’t really answer my question,” you said.

You were met with a quirked brow. 

You continued. “Why me?”

Astarion rested a hand on his hip. “Did we not just go over this? I think you specifically deserve a reward for letting me drink your blood.” He looked a bit exasperated.

Your eyes narrowed. “I don’t think that’s a good enough reason to have sex with someone.”

Astarion sputtered. “So… what are you saying? That you don’t want to have sex with me? I can assure you, I am an excellent lover.”

Now you were becoming irritated. “I don’t doubt that, Astarion, but I don’t think you should feel like you owe me something so intimate for something I do willingly! I do it knowing I’ll get nothing in return!” You turned and continued on the path back towards camp.

“Oh, please!” You heard Astarion’s footsteps behind you. “Don’t you want to have some fun? I can promise you a night you’ll never forget.” When you didn’t respond, he doubled down. “On my honor, the only thing on my mind is depraved, carnal lust.”

“That’s the problem!” You shot back at him. 

His footsteps stopped. “Gods, don’t tell me you’re one of those people who thinks feelings have to be involved.”

You kept walking.

“Oh my gods, you are!” He picked up his pace again to catch up with you.

“Astarion,” you warned.

“My, my, isn’t that adorable.”

“Drop it, Astarion.” You ignored the way he watched you intently from your peripheral.

You didn’t know why his inquiry had surprised you. You knew he was flirty, you knew he was experienced, and you knew he was probably looking for a way to scratch that itch since the nautiloid crash. You just didn’t expect him to turn that attention on you. You saw the way he’d eye Wyll. The way he’d playfully tease Karlach. It didn’t make sense that he’d come to you for this when he could indulge in anyone else at camp. Yes, the thought of him bedding someone else sent an ache through your chest, but he was free to do what he wanted. You didn’t want your own baggage to hold him back.

Surely he knew you simply enjoyed his company. The two of you enjoyed testing each others’ wit and it was quite often that your companions could find you hanging around his tent, sharing laughs over books and wine. It never occurred to you that he might want more from you. 

To his credit, Astarion did stop talking for a good minute and a half.

“Have you ever had sex before?” His tone became sincere. 

You looked over at him. “Does it matter?”

Astarion breathed out a small laugh. “No wonder your blood tastes so sweet.”

You groaned loudly and brought your hands to your face. “This is quite possibly the worst day of my life.”

Astarion threw a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Really? The worst day of your life involves a world-endingly beautiful vampire practically throwing himself at you?”

“No, it’s the fact that the most handsome and interesting man I’ve ever met actually wants to have sex with me and he doesn’t even like me.”

“I never said I don’t like you.”

You hummed out a sarcastic noise. Sure.

“Truly!” He went silent momentarily, thinking. “Okay, who else would plan a diversion at camp involving several minor illusions and loud music to allow me to swipe Gale’s diary for the evening?”

You exhaled. “Not Gale, that’s for sure.” A small smile.

“And to this day he still doesn’t know that we know about his pitiful collection of handwritten poetry.” Astarion sighed wistfully. Noticing your smile, he continued. “And who else would lend me their books when they may or may not be done with them yet?”

“You’re the one who’s been taking my books?”

“Bad example.” Astarion thought for a moment. “Who else would advocate for a bloodthirsty killer to stay at their camp, knowing next to nothing about them, but trusting that they would make good on their promise not to hurt anyone?”

The sentence hung heavy in the air between you.

You broke the silence. “That one was kind of a mouthful.”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

You remained quiet. Then you elbowed him playfully. “I’m a lot of fun.”

Astarion groaned loudly. “I take back everything I’ve said.”

You chuckled and a pleasant silence settled around you. The sun hung low beneath the horizon, painting the sky a calming shade of dark blue.

“I didn’t quite mean it like that,” you clarified. “I meant more like, you don’t like like me.”

“My gods, you’re a child,” Astarion was quick to tease, but didn’t dispute you. 

You made a noise of lame acknowledgement and felt him watching you again. 

The silence stretched once more before sincerity returned to Astarion’s tone. “Is there a reason you haven’t had sex yet?”

You inhaled deeply and looked up at the sky. Maybe this was good. Maybe putting it all out in the open would make you feel lighter. Less embarrassed.

“It’s not that I haven’t wanted to,” you began. “Growing up, I always read stories about love.”

“Ah,” Astarion tipped his head back. “The classic ‘life is not like the fairy tales’ syndrome.”

“Kind of,” you admitted. “In school I always had a crush on somebody. I’d build it up into something wonderful in my head like those stories I grew up with, but I was always too shy to actually say anything to anyone in real life. I deflected that shyness with silliness. People would like me if I made them laugh.” You wrapped your arms around your torso, willing away the feeling of insecurity. But it felt like Astarion was truly listening. You continued.

“As I got older and people my age started dating and having sex, I was kind of left behind. When I did put myself out there, no one ever chose me. I was always the silly, reliable friend. Never the object of anyone’s desire.”

“I’m sure that can’t be true.”

You spread your arms out wide, gesturing around at the wide open and clearly very empty space around you. “And yet, here we are.”

Astarion humphed softly. 

“I don’t know. I put walls up. If no one wanted me, then I wouldn’t let anybody have me.”

“Sounds lonely.”

“Mmm.” You wrapped your arms around yourself again. “That’s why I didn't understand what you were asking earlier. I didn’t think it was possible that someone might actually want me like that. Somebody that I actually liked, too. Especially when you could have your pick of anyone at camp. I… I never let myself think that way because I’ve been wrong about it before. Whenever I’ve wanted someone in the past, I’ve only ever been rejected and hurt. If I keep the feelings to myself, I’m safe. No chance of being hurt again.”

Astarion didn’t say anything. Just nodded and waited to see if you would continue. 

“So yes, I do want the feeling attached to it when I do decide to have sex with someone. I’m tired of feeling unwanted. I’ve waited this long, it has to mean something.”

Astarion clicked his tongue. “Darling, I think that’s putting far too much pressure on yourself and your future partner.”

You looked at him questioningly. 

He shrugged. “I mean, why not just… rip the bandage off, so to speak? I could guarantee you a good time as opposed to whichever inexperienced goon catches your eye in the future.” 

You unintentionally curled in on yourself. “I don’t think I’d feel comfortable being that vulnerable with someone I’m not completely at ease with.”

“And you’re not completely at ease with me?”

“Well, I-”

“You quite literally, and stupidly, put your life into my hands nearly every night by letting me drink your blood.”

“Yeah, but-”

“And you did just share an incredibly tragic backstory with me about your pathetic, sheltered childhood, so what do you call that?”

You whacked Astarion’s arm HARD. 

“I will kill you.”

“You will not.”

“I will not.” You agreed. Then you sighed. “I don’t trust myself not to become incredibly attached to whoever I decide to give myself to.” You avoided eye contact by picking at your nails. “I don’t want to put that burden on you.”

“It’s hardly a burden, my love, I offered.”

You pointed at Astarion. “Right there.”

He looked himself up and down. “What?”

“‘My love.’ If you call me things like that, I’ll really become attached.” Feeling too vulnerable, you added jokingly, “I may even start to like you.”

“It’s a term of endearment, darling. But I’ll jot that down on the list of ways to pleasure you.” Astarion held his hand up in the air and mimed writing down “my love.”

You squeaked in embarrassment and brought your hands to your face. 

In the distance, flickering lights caught your eye as your camp began to come into view. The voices of your other traveling companions drifted towards you and the smell of whatever Gale had made for dinner filled your lungs. You inhaled deeply, realizing how hungry and exhausted you were.

“Come on,” you said, picking up your pace.

“Hold on,” Astarion caught you by the arm. 

You let out a pathetic whine. “Can’t this conversation be over?”

Astarion laughed. “No, dear, I’m not finished with you yet.” He watched your pupils dilate and brushed a lock of hair out of your face. You looked at your feet to avoid his gaze. “I may not be able to give you exactly what you want,” his finger caught your chin and made you look at him again, “but I promise not to hurt you.”

You blinked at him. 

“Wow, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you might actually like me.”

He shook his head. “Stop deflecting, darling.”

You snapped your fingers. “Rats. Shouldn’t have told you that part.”

His grip on your arm tightened. “Let me have you. Tonight.”

Your heart began to pick up speed again. 

Astarion leaned closer to whisper in your ear. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

You attempted to shimmy out of his grip and he let you. 

“I, uh-” It was too much. The look on his face was too intense. You felt too exposed despite the layers of armor currently clad to your body. 

“I’m scared,” you admitted quietly.

“Don’t be,” he whispered, leaning in and kissing you on the cheek. “I’ll be gentle.”

You could cry. This was all happening so fast. You cleared your throat. “I’ll think about it.”

Astarion gave you a devious smile. “Good.” 

He stepped away and resumed the short walk back to camp. He called to you over his shoulder, “Come on, darling. Let’s get you some food.”

It was your turn to catch up with him. When you did, he said, “You’ll need the energy for what I have planned.” Then he winked.

You scoffed. “I haven’t agreed yet!”

“You will.”

~~~~~

Shortly after arriving back at camp, Astarion had let you and your companions know that he was going out for a hunt. Before he left, however, he loudly announced, “Somebody get this woman some food. She’s been through quite a lot this evening.” He smirked, then promptly disappeared into the forest beyond, leaving you to answer to the five curious faces gathered around the campfire.

That was probably for the best. The less you had to look at him, the less you’d think about him and what he’d offered. 

Shadowheart immediately went to work examining you for any signs of injury, but you insisted that you were fine, explaining that your lute had unfortunately taken the most damage. Once Wyll had kindly ladeled you a bowl of the vegetable soup Gale had prepared, you told everyone about your encounter with the bugbear and the ogress.

Karlach howled with glee. “Are you joking, Soldier?”

You swallowed a spoonful of soup and shook your head. “Swear to the gods.”

“I do not blame them for wanting to partake in the pleasures of the flesh,” Lae’zel said. “It’s a good way to stay in peak physical form when there are no enemies around to be slaughtered.”

Gale got up to refill his bowl. “Honestly I’m glad Shadowheart and I returned to camp before we had to witness that.”

Wyll nodded. “I fear the nightmares this experience may bring about for you.”

Karlach was still laughing. “Wait, wait, use ME to demonstrate what they looked like.”

You snorted and got up, placing your bowl carefully on the ground by the campfire.

Karlach bounced on her feet and shook out her arms, limbering up. You were careful not to touch her as you instructed her to get on her hands and knees like the ogress. 

“This is awful,” Wyll said, a smile spreading on his face.

“What of the bugbear?” Shadowheart asked, her own smile widening.

You came around behind Karlach and angled your pelvis as close to her ass as you dared. You leaned forward and ghosted gripping her hips.

“FUCK OFF!” Karlach yelled in disbelief, her head angled to watch what you were doing. 

You laughed and nodded. “I swear, this is what we saw.”

Gale crossed his arms. “You know, now that I’m seeing it, it’s not as weird as I thought.”

“Chk,” Lae’zel scoffed. “While Karlach’s size is impressive, you fail to calculate how large an ogress is in comparison to a measly bugbear.”

Shadowheart laughed. “Yeah Gale, you fail to calculate-.”

“I calculate just fine!” Gale interrupted. Wyll patted his shoulder.

“Well,” came a breathy voice from the treeline.

All heads turned to look and found Astarion crossing his arms and smirking at you and Karlach. 

“That was quick,” Wyll remarked.

Astarion examined his nails. “Found a rabbit’s burrow not far off. Made quick work of it.”

Karlach blew some hair out of her face as the vampire approached. “Hey, Fangs. Soldier here was just telling us about the little show you two interrupted.” She waggled her eyebrows and her hips. “Jealous?”

Astarion let out a short laugh. “Hardly.” He looked up from her to you, where you were still poised awkwardly behind her. 

You instantly looked up to avoid eye contact and moved away from Karlach. “I think you all get it by now,” you said. As you were about to return to your spot by the campfire, Astarion spoke again.

“It’s just that you had it all wrong, darling.” 

You spun on your heel to face him again and were met with a challenging look in his eye. 

Lae’zel sniffed. “Explain yourself.”

“With pleasure,” Astarion walked towards you with a wicked smile on his face.

“Go on then,” you said, gesturing towards Karlach, who was still on her hands and knees.

Astarion hummed and then clicked his tongue. “Forgive me Karlach, but I’m not interested in burning to a crisp this evening.” His eyes never left yours.

Karlach shrugged and got to her feet. She rejoined the others by the campfire.

A chill ran through your body as Astarion moved to position himself behind you. 

“Wait, me?” Your eyes went wide.

“Obviously,” Astarion smirked, referencing your conversation and confusion from earlier. He turned to address your other companions. “While what you just witnessed was a noble attempt at a demonstration, I think you’d all benefit from seeing models who can actually touch.”

Karlach groaned. “No fair.”

Astarion turned back towards you and placed a hand on the small of your back. “Go on, darling,” he purred, “on your knees.”

A small noise of protest escaped your throat, but you did as you were told. 

Astarion followed you down and whispered in your ear, “That’s it.” 

His icy hands guided your limbs into the proper positions, his fingers lingering longer than was strictly necessary. When he was satisfied, he nodded and stood.

You hung your head down and huffed out a breath. This was humiliating. 

“That’s basically what I was doing,” Karlach pointed out.

Astarion chuckled. “Yes, but this is the fun part.”

Without warning, his cold grip found its way onto your hips. You hissed quietly at the sensation.

“See, now if you could all just imagine me as a scrawny, yet formidable bugbear, and our lovely leader here as a hideous ogress, it looked something like this-”

On “this,” Astarion reared his hips forward and connected with your ass. You gasped in surprise and turned your head to look back at him. He flashed his fangs playfully in response.

“I fail to see why this is necessary,” Gale said, crossing his arms uncomfortably. 

“Perhaps because you cannot picture the correct proportions in you head,” Lae’zel responded. “I can see how one would find this humorous. Though this is a bit much.”

Karlach was laughing again. “I can totally picture it!”

The others threw in their own two cents on the demonstration, but all you could focus on was the ringing in your ears.

Astarion’s grip on your hips tightened, and he pressed farther forward into you. Your eyes went wide again and you looked back at him. There was no mistaking the sensation you currently felt: Astarion was hard in his slacks. 

He smiled deviously and wiggled his hips almost imperceptibly, but enough that you could feel it and react to it. And gods, did it feel good. 

You gasped loudly and fell forward onto your forearms, effectively detaching yourself from the vampire. 

Shadowheart rushed forward to check on you. 

“I’m fine!” You assured quickly. Perhaps a little too loudly. “My wrists gave out on me, I think.” You flexed your wrists as if that would convince your companions that you were being very honest and totally not weird right now. 

You scrambled to your feet and saw Astarion attempting to keep a straight face. 

“You and those weak wrists of yours,” he said, clearly not convinced.

“Yeah well…” You didn’t finish the thought. Instead you yawned loudly. “Well folks, glad you enjoyed our little misadventure today but I am beat. I’m off to bed.”

You walked over to your abandoned soup bowl, picked it up and brought it to the pile of other dirty dishes that accumulated by the cookware. You gave a quick goodnight to everyone and spun to return to your tent, but not before Astarion gave you a knowing nod. You gulped and closed the flap of your tent, shutting out the rest of the world.

The ringing in your ears subsided, but your mind still raced. You’d felt Astarion’s cock against your ass. That’s what that was, right? Duh, it had to be. And while the sensation had shocked you, the way he’d moved his hips so minutely had been enough to send a small wave of pleasure through you.

It had scared you.

It had thrilled you. 

It had made you run away.

You were confused beyond belief. Had Astarion been interested in you this whole time and he was just now showing it? Or were you so focused on finding the cure for the tadpoles that you’d neglected to notice his advances? He’d always been a flirt, but that didn’t automatically mean he was interested in you.

So why did he choose today to make his move? And why had he just embarrassed you in front of the entire party with that mortifying display?

Maybe he was trying to convince you to sleep with him by giving you the tiniest preview of what was to come. You shuddered at the thought, your heart pounding.

A sense of dread hung heavy in your stomach. All that could possibly come from this was embarrassment and disappointment. You were certain you were one of the least experienced people Astarion had probably ever shown interest in, save perhaps his first ever partner, whenever it was he’d lost his own virginity centuries ago. 

You weren’t completely inexperienced, having explored your own body in the dead of night, head filled with images of white curls, strong arms, a sharp jaw… But that was different. That was just you.

Surely you’d embarrass yourself somehow. You’d move incorrectly, or sound weird, or taste bad, or a whole number of other things that could possibly go wrong. Plus, while you were no stranger to injuries, the promise of pain scared you as well. You weren’t sure what to expect or how you’d handle it. 

And then there was also the problem of attachment. You knew yourself well enough to know that if you let Astarion do this, it would change things for you forever. And there’d be nowhere to hide.

“I can practically hear your thoughts racing from across camp, darling.” Astarion’s voice made you jump and you instinctively covered yourself with your arms, despite still being fully dressed. The vampire peaked his head into your tent. “May I come in?”

You swallowed and nodded.

He ducked inside and sat across from you, his hands in his lap.

“Have you thought about my offer?”

You nodded.

“And?”

“And…” You attempted to think of an answer, hoping that dragging out the word might bring clarity. Your fingers anxiously tapped your forearm and your eyes were fixed on a loose thread hanging from one of the seams at the top of your tent. 

Astarion exhaled. “I apologize.”

You looked at him curiously.

“For that display out there,” he continued. “I thought I might be able to convince you physically, but I can see now that all I did was scare you off.” 

You rested your head on your knees, turning your head to the side, and stared blankly at the canvas wall of your tent. “Sorry,” you murmured. 

Soft, cool fingers grazed your brow and turned your attention back to Astarion. He retracted his hand and held it out to you, palm up. 

Your eyes looked from his hand to his face.

“Come with me,” he beckoned.

You sucked in a breath. “I don’t know if I-”

“For a walk,” he interrupted, not unkindly. “A simple walk. That’s all I ask.”

You weren’t completely convinced, but with the way he was watching you so closely, it was hard to deny him this. Hesitantly, you took his hand and interlaced your fingers with his. Your palms were clammy again, but he was polite enough not to mention it. Instead, he squeezed your hand lightly and led you outside.

The campsite was quiet. It appeared that you had inspired the others to turn in for the night after a quick cleanup of dinner. While lights still flickered within individual tents, the only ones still lingering around by the campfire were Scratch and the owlbear cub who dozed on one of the extra bedrolls together. 

Nodding to each other, you and Astarion wordlessly agreed to remain quiet until you were far enough away from camp that you wouldn’t be overheard. Astarion led you towards the edge of the forest where he’d emerged from hunting not that long ago. Once you’d gone deep enough into the trees, he dropped your hand to allow you to walk beside him without being led. You mourned the loss of the contact but said nothing.

Leaves crunched beneath your feet as you navigated around tree trunks and over wayward roots, careful to avoid falling. You had no idea where he was taking you.

“I didn’t realize we were going for a hike,” you said. “Otherwise I would have worn my good boots.”

“Hush, dear,” Astarion said. “We’re almost there.”

He turned back and held out a hand to you again, helping you hop across a small stream. When he released your hand, he walked forward a few more paces into a clearing and turned back to face you, a smug expression gracing his features. 

You mirrored him warily. “What?”

He merely cocked his head into the clearing, motioning for you to look.

You caught up with him and froze. 

The center of the clearing had been cleaned of all forest debris and was replaced with a nest of blankets and pillows you recognized from around camp. 

Sensing your tension, Astarion placed a gentle hand on your shoulder blade.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he said quietly. “But I’d like to.”

You whined. “Well don’t guilt me into it!”

He chuckled. “I’m doing no such thing.”

You scowled at him and he laughed again. 

“Come sit.” He knelt and sat on one of the pillows, tapping the one to his left for you.

You crossed your arms and stayed put. “Did you even go for a hunt earlier?” He scrunched his nose, caught. You huffed out a humorless laugh. “How’d you sneak all this out here?”

Astarion tutted. “A gentleman never reveals his secrets.” A beat. “Though it did require multiple trips.”

“Uh huh,” you said flatly. Surveying the area, you noticed one of your own blankets was buried in the mix. You pointed to it. “Nice.”

Astarion shrugged. “I wanted you to be comfortable.”

“For sitting with you.”

“Among other things.”

A moment passed of you still standing, staring down at him, and of him sitting, smirking up at you.

Slowly, you uncrossed your arms and joined him on the makeshift bed.

“Very good,” Astarion purred.

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” you asserted, hugging your knees.

“I know,” he said, somehow effortlessly scooching closer to you. How he made everything he did look so incredibly sexy was beyond you. “Relax,” he instructed, motioning for you to let go of your knees. 

You sighed and copied his position; letting your knees fall to the sides and sitting cross legged across from him. 

His mouth quirked up in a half smile. He leaned in ever so slightly, causing you to instinctively lean back. He sighed down at the ground, and then looked back up at you, his expression patient. “May I kiss you?”

Your heart rate picked up again. 

“Uh… I-”

“You’ve never kissed anyone, have you?” His tone wasn’t judgemental, but it wasn’t surprised either.

You pursed your lips and shook your head.

“Right.” Astarion adjusted his posture and placed his hands on your knees. “Would you like me to teach you?”

Oh gods, yes. 

Instantly, your eyes fell to his lips. You’d spent entire evenings imagining what they might feel like pressed against your own, against your throat, kissing down your body… And here they were, being offered to you, willingly. 

What was the harm in letting him kiss you? Kissing didn’t necessarily lead to sex. Kisses and sex were two entirely separate things. And if you were going to have your first kiss with anyone, it might as well be with someone who was willing to teach you the ropes. 

“Darling?” Astarion leaned forward to catch your eye.

You blinked a few times and shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts.

“Okay,” you said finally. 

You were met with a self-satisfied smirk from the vampire.

“But-” you interrupted, leaning away again as he tried to lean in. He immediately moved back to give you space. “I don’t know what to do with my hands.”

Astarion stared at you blankly, and then laughed loudly.

“Oh, my dear,” he said, fondness in his cadence, “when in doubt, hold onto me.” He took your hands in his own. “May I?”

You nodded.

“Use your words.”

“Yes,” you said quietly.

He lifted your hands and placed them on his shoulders. He let his hands linger on your wrists for a second, and then moved closer to you again. 

“Kissing is simple, dear,” he said, watching your mouth as you instinctively wet your lips. “It can take some communicating to get right, but usually, if it feels good for you, it feels good for your partner as well.” He brought his hand up towards your face and swept some hair behind your ear. 

Again, your heart thundered in your ears. 

He must have sensed it. “Relax,” he instructed on an exhale. 

You exhaled with him. 

Astarion nodded. “I’m going to kiss you now.” His eyes followed yours as you tried to look away, embarrassed. He wouldn’t let you. “Look at me for a moment, please.” You reluctantly met his gaze and he continued. “If you don’t like something, or if it’s too much, tell me immediately.”

“What if I’m not good?” you asked earnestly.

“Then we’ll readjust. But don’t worry, darling, I’m an exceptional teacher.” 

You snorted, a joke poised on your tongue. “And I was always really good in scho-'' Before you could finish the thought, Astarion’s lips connected with your own. 

Briefly. 

Chastely. 

Over before you even registered what had happened. 

Your mouth remained in an “o” shape, having been in the middle of saying the word “school.”

“You really do like to talk, don’t you?” Astarion chuckled, pleased that he’d rendered you speechless, if only for a second.

“That didn’t count,” you huffed.

Astarion raised a mischievous eyebrow. “I’m sorry, are you asking for another?”

You muttered something that sounded a lot like “fuck you” under your breath. 

Astarion smirked. “What was that?”

You sighed heavily and felt your face heat up. 

Stupid beautiful man with his stupid beautiful face and stupid kissable lips.

“Can you please actually kiss me?” you asked, trying your best to keep your tone even, despite feeling mortified. Your hands, still draped over his shoulders, fidgeted with the back of his shirt.

Astarion brought one of his hands up to cover your own and tilted his head to rest his cheek against his own knuckles. His tone was playfully childish when he said, “Yes, I can.”

This time, when he leaned in, you didn’t lean away. Much to your dismay, however, he paused mere centimeters from your mouth, teasing you. When you made an impatient noise, he smiled and closed the distance. 

His mouth was soft and gentle, and you let your eyes flutter closed, focusing on the sensation. You followed his lead as his mouth moved against yours, doing your best to mimic what felt good and noting whenever he made a sound of approval. 

He pulled back far too soon. “Very good,” he said, a bit breathlessly. “You did well.”

You smiled, relishing in the praise. “I liked that.”

“Did you?” His eyes conveyed that he was genuinely glad to hear that. “I mean, of course you did.” His flirty inflection reemerged.

You connected your index finger with his nose and pushed him away teasingly. As soon as you ended the touch, he brought his face right back up to yours. He cleared his throat.

“Would you like to try again?” Astarion sounded a bit uncertain. Like you still might say no. “There’s more I can show you.”

You laced your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck. “Please.”

His eyes were half lidded as he looked from your lips to your eyes once more. He leaned in again and captured your mouth with his. He was still gentle this time, but you could tell by the way his hands came up to cup your cheeks that he wanted more and was going slow for your sake. His mouth was moving against yours at an agonizingly sluggish pace.

In a spur of confidence, you flicked your tongue forward to prod at his bottom lip.

Astarion made a sound of slight surprise, but took the hint and opened his mouth to you. 

You hadn’t really thought that far ahead. You hesitated. 

Then you felt an amused noise come from the back of Astarion’s throat, and were met with his tongue gliding against your own. You gasped at the new sensation, but quickly found a rhythm to meet him at. This was all so new and intense, and yet you felt safe in this moment with Astarion leading you through it. Every touch felt so heavenly, every lick tasted so right. 

Reluctantly, you pulled away to catch your breath. Astarion followed after you, his mouth still chasing your own. 

When he realized you needed a moment, his lips instead met your throat, leaving sloppy, open mouth kisses against the fading bruises from his last feeding session. You let out an unexpected moan, which had you slap a hand to your mouth and had Astarion pull back to look at you. 

He raised his eyebrows, clearly excited by the sound you just made. “What a sweet voice you have, my love.”

You whimpered at the pet name and he chuckled, surging forward to kiss your cheeks. 

“You,” a kiss to your right cheek, “are an excellent,” a kiss to your left cheek, “student,” a lingering kiss to your lips. 

“And you are an exceptional teacher,” you admitted.

Astarion’s expression became smug again. “I know.” He leaned forward and rested his forehead on your shoulder. You ran your fingers through his hair and scratched his scalp soothingly. 

He muttered something incoherent into your shirt. 

“What was that?” you laughed. You’d never seen such an affectionate Astarion before. It was incredibly endearing and, annoyingly, made you like him even more. 

He kissed your shoulder before bringing his head back up. “I said,” he moved to whisper into the shell of your ear, “I want nothing more than to ravish you.”

Once again, you felt your face heat up and you swallowed thickly. 

Astarion pulled back to look at you and saw the anxiety written across your face. He sighed. “The last thing I want to do is scare you.”

You stayed quiet.

“I know that’s ironic, coming from a literal monster that parents warn their children about.” He was attempting to keep things light. You appreciated his effort. He went on, his voice distant. “I know what it’s like to have a bad experience with sex.”

That caught your attention. You looked at him curiously.

He sat back and placed his hands on his knees. “I don’t want that for you.”

You furrowed your brows, confused. “What do you mean?”

Astarion shook his head, willing whatever he was thinking about to disappear. “That doesn’t matter right now.” Before you could argue, his eyes narrowed at you, sensually. “You must allow me to show you what you’ve been missing out on all this time. You’re far too exquisite to have never experienced the pleasure I can offer. And far too delicious not to taste.”

His sudden change in demeanor gave you whiplash. Whatever soft and affectionate side you’d seen from him moments ago was gone, replaced by this sexy dream grinning before you. You didn’t like knowing that he’d had a bad experience with sex in the past, or that he’d brush it off so easily. It made you angry at whoever had hurt him. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Of course I am, pet.” He lowered his voice seductively, “But I’d be a lot better if I were buried deep inside of you.”

“What are you doing?” You asked, backing away from him considerably. 

“What do you mean, lover?” Astarion looked at you with a curiosity that you could now see was fake. 

“Hey, remember when you said that the last thing you wanted to do was scare me?” You tucked your knees into your chest again, protecting yourself. “You’re doing a piss poor job of that right now.” When he didn’t respond, you said his name, loudly. “Astarion .”

Astarion’s grin vanished. Then he blinked. His eyes widened as if he were just realizing you were there with him. He reached out a hand towards you, then retracted it. 

“I- I’m sorry, darling. I don’t know what came over me just now.” 

You lowered your knees slowly and returned to sitting cross legged. 

“If having sex with you is going to make you like that , then I have no problem saying no.” Your tone was sharp and final. 

Astarion winced. “It’s not. That wasn’t-” He sighed. “I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to.”

“Mhm.”

He furrowed his brows. “I won’t let that happen again.” Then he looked at you sheepishly. “Let me start over.”

You raised an eyebrow.

He cleared his throat. “I want you to have the best possible first experience with sex.”

You nodded slowly. 

“And I know a thing or two about sex.” He winked at you.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile ghosted your lips.

He began to crawl towards you tentatively. When you didn’t back away, he took one of your hands in both of his. 

“Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than bringing you the greatest pleasure.” 

You snorted. “That was awful.”

“But I made you laugh,” he smiled, the affectionate side you’d seen earlier present in his eyes. He kissed the back of your fingers. 

“I still don’t know why you care about my first time so much,” you said. “This is my problem, not yours.”

“Gods forbid the team’s problem solver has her own problem solved,” Astarion said flatly. “Besides, I want to do this for you. You deserve the best.”

“And you’re the best.” It wasn’t a question so much as an amused statement. 

“Obviously.” Astarion leaned forward and kissed your cheek.

You chuckled softly. Then, after a quiet moment, you asked, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

He knew what you were referring to. The bad experience he’d mentioned earlier. 

He shook his head. “Not tonight, my sweet. Tonight should be about you.” He squeezed your hand.

You supposed that was okay. You’d opened up to him earlier tonight and he’d been patient enough to listen. You could be patient and wait until he was ready to open up in return.

“I didn’t like what happened back there,” you clarified. 

Astarion crossed his heart. “He shan’t return.”

“And I expect you to tell me if you feel him coming back.”

“I’ll stop immediately. Though, it might be hard for me to drag myself away.” He gave you a sideways smirk. You weren’t having it. His expression instantly grew serious again. “I’ll stop immediately.”

You sighed, realizing how close you were to agreeing. There was just one more thing. “If I agree to this, I don’t think I’ll be able to look at you the same way.”

“What, you mean as a devilishly charming, heartbreakingly good looking rogue?”

“No, I mean I’ll probably want more from you. And I’m not talking about your body, or your lame attempts at seduction, I’m talking about you. Astarion.”

That gave him pause. You could practically see the cogs in his mind turning rapidly. 

You backtracked. “But I don’t want to scare you. I’m perfectly fine to end the night here and-”

“No!” Astarion seemed surprised by how quickly he interrupted. You tilted your head in hopeful curiosity.

He inhaled deeply, then blew whatever air a vampire can take in, out. “I may be willing to agree to those terms.”

Your face lit up. “Really?” You readjusted yourself to sit excitedly on your knees.

Astarion leaned back a little. “I’m not going to regret saying that, am I?”

“Only if you hate fun,” you poked at his side lightly. 

He groaned. “Five seconds into this relationship and I already want to break up with you,” the sentence was punctuated with a laugh.

You surged forward and threw your arms around his neck, hugging him. He froze, and you sensed his hands hovering just above your skin. You nuzzled his neck with your nose and kissed his throat tenderly, trying to convince him to wrap his arms around you. When he finally did, you hummed happily. You looked up at him and found him looking down at you with wonder. You laughed and leaned up to kiss his mouth. When you pulled away, he looked a bit dazed.

“Oh, you are dangerous,” he practically growled and captured your mouth again with his own. 

This time there was nothing gentle about the kiss. Astarion immediately slid his tongue into your mouth and you nearly choked in surprise and delight. He was desperate, and so were you, moving your hands to his hair and gripping his curls tightly. He moaned into your mouth and you smiled, mentally noting that his curls were a point of pleasure for him. 

Astarion pulled back for a moment to allow you to breathe, but not before catching your lip with one of his fangs. You felt a mild sting as you realized he’d pierced skin. You brought a hand to your lip and your finger came away with blood. 

“You did not just-”

“Oh, you’ll find that I did,” he smirked and leaned forward, sucking your lip into his mouth and savoring every drop of blood he pulled from it. “Your blood is the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he sighed after releasing your lip with a pop. 

“I hope that’s a good thing,” you said.

“My love, it’s fantastic.” He pulled you closer and had you sit on his lap before he kissed you again, immediately falling back into a desperate rhythm. 

The noises he was making were better than any song you’d ever heard. You tugged on his hair again and he made a noise of satisfaction that was accompanied by a sudden buck of his hips. You gasped into his mouth and felt him smile against your lips. He bucked his hips again if only to get you to react again. You pulled away to look at him. His eyes were half lidded and he wore a lopsided grin. 

Rather than saying anything, he placed his hands on your hips and repositioned you in his lap. You gasped again when you felt the unmistakable length of his cock, hard in his pants. 

He let out a breathy laugh. “Go on,” he cooed, “rub yourself against me.” 

A moan escaped your throat and you hid your face in his neck, embarrassed. 

“No, no, love,” he pulled you back gently by the shoulders. “Don’t hide.” He rose slightly to kiss your lips soothingly. “Allow yourself to feel good.”

You looked down at him skeptically. He merely nodded for you to go ahead. Hesitantly, you readjusted your legs and gave an experimental roll of your hips. You were met with instant pleasure as his clothed length skimmed your clit. Your mouth dropped open and your eyes met Astarion’s. There was a look of pride on his face and he nodded, encouraging you to keep going. You rolled your hips again, angling yourself just right to hit the best spot every time. 

“That’s it,��� Astarion praised. “You’re doing so well. Do you feel good?”

You whimpered in response and brought your head down to nod against his shoulder.

“That’s a good girl,” he said and kissed your ear. His cool hands rested on either side of your hips under your shirt. Slowly, he moved his hand up and experimentally squeezed one of your breasts. You moaned out an approval and Astarion moved his mouth to nibble on your earlobe. 

It was all becoming too much. Your mouth hung open and you shut your eyes to prevent them from rolling back. You could feel your climax approaching as the familiar knot in your stomach began to tighten and threatened to snap. 

“Ass-” you whined, not able to get his full name out as he pinched your nipple under your shirt.

“Let go, my love,” he whispered into your ear. “I’ve got you.” He kissed your cheek sweetly, and it was enough to send you over the edge. You cried out Astarion’s name over and over as waves of pleasure pulsed through you. He met your cries with praise.

“Yes dearest, you look so beautiful while you make yourself come on me, I can’t wait to make you come again and again, my love, you filthy thing, I adore the way you scream my name.”

As you came down, you rested your forehead against Astarion’s. You smiled at him tiredly, and kissed his nose. “What did you just make me do?”

“Oh, don’t tell me that was your first orgasm?” Astarion looked genuinely upset.

You laughed. “No, I’ve made myself come before.”

“Oh?” He smirked at you. “And what have you gotten yourself off to?”

“Uh…” You looked at him sheepishly.

“Don’t get shy on me now!” Astarion raised his voice in exasperation. “You just came on my lap!”

You spoke softly, hoping maybe he wouldn’t hear you. “It should not surprise you in the least to know that… it may or may not have been to you.” 

A self-satisfied smirk returned to the vampire’s face. 

“You’re not as innocent as you pretend to be, darling.” He kissed you sweetly. “Anything about me in particular?” He pulled back and held up his arms, turning from side to side so you could get a better view of him from different angles. 

You tapped your chin in faux thought. “I’d actually rather see what you have in mind.”

“About me?”

“No, idiot. I’d love to see how you plan to get me off.”

A growl came from the back of Astarion’s throat. “Now that, I can do.”

In an instant, he scooped you into his arms and laid you down flat on the blankets. He grabbed a wayward pillow and placed it under your head. You watched him in awe. 

He laughed. “What now?”

“You’re so handsome,” you smiled, your face all shades of gooey.

He returned a soft smile of his own. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He bent to kiss your mouth and then began to kiss down your jaw towards your throat. You sighed dreamily and laced your fingers through his hair. 

“Remind me why I was holding off on this?” You said absently, wrapping your calf around Astarion’s.

He murmured against your throat, “Because you’re a stubborn fool.” He kissed the hickies that were already forming down your neck.

Your eyes shot open to glare at him and found him looking at you mischievously. 

“You asked,” he said, licking a stripe from the base of your neck up to your ear. 

You shivered as the night air chilled the line he left behind. 

“Ready for more?” He spoke quietly next to your ear. 

“Yes,” you breathed.

You heard him snicker and then he pulled back. He swept a hand through the air, gesturing the length of your body.

“These have to go.” He was referring to your clothes.

“Right,” you said, making no move to remove them. Instead, you subconsciously crossed your arms over your chest. 

Astarion frowned and thought for a moment. “How about this,” he looked pleased with himself. “How about I remove your clothes, and then you remove mine?”

Your eyes raked over his body, imagining what he might look like beneath his ruffled collar. 

“Now, now, darling, all in good time.” He kissed your forehead. “What do you say?”

You inhaled deeply, then nodded. “Okay.”

“There she is.” Astarion smiled down at you, his hands already resting on your hips. “I’m going to start with your shirt, alright?”

You nodded and raised your arms above your head. You closed your eyes, attempting to ground yourself. 

As Astarion began to lift your shirt, you felt his lips connect with the soft skin of your stomach. You sucked in a startled breath, which caused him to pause, but he continued once he felt you relax. His lips made their way all the way up your torso until he had to lift the shirt over your head to remove it completely. 

Your face flushed, having never been this exposed in front of someone before, but Astarion looked at you with nothing but fondness in his eyes. 

“Gorgeous,” he said, leaning down to kiss your bare shoulder next to your bra strap. 

You fidgeted uncomfortably. 

Astarion pulled back. “Alright there?”

“I’m just… new at this.” You tried to make yourself smaller.

He chuckled. “So I’ve heard.” He kissed your mouth quickly, trying to soothe your nerves. “I’m going to take off your bra now, okay?”

You searched his face for any sign of judgment and found none. You sighed. “I guess so.”

Astarion frowned and kissed you again, with more passion this time. When he pulled away, his face was stern. “I promise that I already think the world of you.” His gaze held yours. “Seeing all of you will not change that. In fact, it’ll likely just make me want you more.”

You giggled bashfully. “Okay, fine, you can look at my boobs.”

He groaned. “Boobs,” he mimicked your voice mockingly. “Gods you’re annoying. I’m trying to have a serious moment with you.”

“Sorry,” you blushed. “You may remove my brassiere and expose my breasts for all the forest to see.”

Astarion hummed disapprovingly. “Better, but still not great.”

“I’m afraid that’s as good as it’ll get for now.”

“Hmm. We’ll work on it.” Before you even knew what was happening, Astarion had undone the clasps on your bra and was yanking it off.

“Astarion!” You laughed in disbelief and flung an arm over your chest.

“I told you, you talk too much.” He took the bra and flung it to the side of the blanket nest. “You make it so easy.”

“Damn you and your ability to do things under people’s noses.”

“Yes, yes, I’m incredible, now move your arm and let me look at you.”

Pursing your lips, you hesitantly moved your arm away from your chest and rested it rigidly beside you. You looked anywhere but at Astarion. 

You felt his hand find yours and interlocked your fingers. You felt him kiss the back of your hand and set it back down gently. You finally looked at him and found him staring at you.

“I was right,” he said, somewhat sing-songingly.

“About what?”

“I just want you more.” He leaned forward, inches away from your left breast. He paused and looked up at you. “Can I touch you?”

“Wait,” you said, sitting up on your forearms. Astarion pulled back immediately. 

“Something wrong?”

“Yes,” you glared at him. He looked confused. You rolled your eyes and held out an arm, gesturing to his torso. “Can’t we level the playing field?”

He looked from your hand to his shirt and laughed. “Of course, my dear.” He crept closer to you and you sat up fully, letting your breasts rub against the cotton material of his shirt. He looked pleased as he felt one hand grip the bottom of his shirt and the other slid exploratorily up his abdomen. Your eyes widened when you felt the hardened muscles that lived there.

“No fair,” you complained. “How do you keep getting more attractive?”

Astarion exhaled through his nose, amused. “Would you please hurry up?”

“I’m going, I’m going” you huffed and pulled his shirt up and over his head in one fluid motion. “No fair,” you muttered again, taking in his chiseled features. 

“Come here,” he said and pulled you back onto his lap. He slid his tongue into your mouth as his hand found your right breast. You moaned at the contact and used your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer, causing your left nipple to pebble against his icy pectoral. You opened your mouth wider and let out a throaty whine. 

Astarion cradled you to him and laid you down again in the blankets. He disconnected himself from your mouth and reattached himself on your left breast, taking the pebbled bud gently between his teeth. Your back arched away from the blankets as he pulled it lightly, his other hand making its way to knead your other breast. 

“Oh, Astarion,” you exhaled dreamily. 

He hummed against your breast which only made you arch your back again. He continued swirling his tongue around your nipple until he decided to switch and give your other breast the same attention. You brought your hand back up to his curls and pulled firmly, making him groan against you. Your other hand set to pulling his chest closer but when your touch met his back, you felt a raised pattern there. 

“Astarion?” You asked, clearing your throat. 

“Hmm?”

“What’s this?”

“What’s what, my sweet?” He pulled back to look at you, his pupils blown wide and a string of saliva still connecting him to your breast. 

You moved your hand out of his hair and used both hands to brush up and down his back. “This.” You sat up a little to angle your head and get a better look. What you saw made you gasp and made Astarion push off of you and crawl back. A hugely intricate scar comprised of writing in a language you couldn’t comprehend took up the majority of his back.

“Who did that to you?” You made no move to hide your anger. 

If it was possible, Astarion looked paler than usual. “It’s… It’s a poem.”

“A poem?” You clearly didn’t believe him. 

He sighed. “A gift from my old master, Cazador. He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas.” He turned a little so you could get a better look. “He composed and carved that one over the course of a night.” Though he wasn’t thrilled to be telling you this in the first place, Astarion’s tone became somber and quiet. “He made a lot of revisions as he went.” 

You furrowed your brows angrily. “So when are we going to kill this guy?” You crawled closer to him and he turned back to face you head on. 

He chuckled at your bitter expression, but his own face fell. “Ideally as soon as we set foot in Baldur’s Gate.”

“Not soon enough,” you grumbled. “Any idea what it says?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like I can look in a mirror and see.” As he spoke, you moved to position yourself behind him and get a better look. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. Whatever the bastard wrote, it won’t change what he did to me.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck from behind and kissed his bare shoulder. “We’ll get him. He’ll pay for everything he’s done.”

Astarion snickered. “Keep talking like that and I may never let you go.”

“That’s the goal,” you kissed his other shoulder. “Think of all the blood.”

The vampire groaned and spun to face you again. “Cut it out. I’m hard enough already.”

You laughed as he kissed you again. Your hands held onto his back and rubbed up and down soothingly. You pulled away and looked at him seriously. “I’m sorry.”

Astarion tutted. “Whatever for?”

“Just… that that happened. Everything. You didn’t deserve it. Nobody does.” 

His eyes focused on something in the distance. Then he shook his head. “Enough about Cazador,” he said firmly. “He mutilated us, tortured us, starved us, but he will not ruin this new freedom for me.” He rested his forehead against yours. “For us.” 

You were content to stay like that for however long he needed to. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what the past two hundred years had been like for the man before you. The snippets you’d already glimpsed had made you angry beyond reason. 

And yet, here was Astarion, free to do as he wished and not squandering a moment of it. You’d watched him bask in the sun, sneak into locked buildings, and slaughter a goblin here and there, all with his light and airy laugh to follow along behind him. Despite it all, his laugh lines and easy smile suggested he’d been able to find joy in moments of despair. 

You kissed him again, your fingers still tracing the patterns along his back. “Can we keep going?”

His eyes widened a little with surprise. “You want to? Even with-?” He tilted his head back, indicating his scars.

“Astarion,” you angled your head down to look him directly in the eye. “Unfortunately, you’re stuck with me. And those scars are as much a part of you as your stupid handsome face.”

He raised an amused eyebrow.

“Point is, those scars don’t change how I feel about you. But I do plan to be there when we kill the bastard who put them there.”

Astarion groaned hungrily and kissed you hard. You felt his fangs prick your tongue as he once again laid you down. 

“These are coming off now,” he said, fiddling with the ties on your pants. Before he could fully untie them, he caught himself. “Please.”

You laughed and nodded.

“Use your words.”

You sighed. “Yes, you can take off my pants.”

“Thank you,” he said, immediately returning to the task at hand. You raised your hips to help as he pulled the fabric down your legs. You shivered as he kissed up your thighs on his way back to your face. “I can’t wait to taste you,” he purred. 

You groaned and brought your hands up to cover your face.

“Uh uh uh,” Astarion tsked and moved your hands back down. “None of that.”

You watched as he grazed a hand down your chest and over your stomach, down to where you wanted him most, between your thighs. Your eyes went wide when you felt his fingers immediately find your clit through the fabric of your panties. He circled it once before running his digits over your clothed slit.

“You’re already so wet for me, darling,” he sounded pleased. “You’re positively drenched.”

“Can you blame me?” you asked breathily. 

“No I cannot” he purred again, kissing you and returning his fingers to circle your clit. You whimpered then pulled away from the kiss.

“Your pants,” you said, incoherently. 

Astarion tried to register what you meant and then snorted. He pulled back and you made to sit up and follow him but he stopped you. “Stay right there. I don’t want you to move a muscle.”

“You just don’t want to have to lay me down again.”

“Perhaps,” Astarion admitted as he finished untying his own pants. He shimmied them over his hips then kicked them aside, promptly forgotten. 

You couldn’t help but stare at the prominent outline of his cock, visible even in the dim light of the moon. 

“Close your mouth, dear,” Astarion instructed. You did as you were told and bit your lip nervously. Astarion placed his knees on either side of your hips and kissed your jaw. “Don’t be scared,” he murmured. “We’re going to work our way up to it.”

You took a deep breath and blew it out, blowing on some of his curls in the process. 

“Okay,” you said. 

“Excellent.” He kissed your mouth once, then backed up so he was hovering over your pelvis. “Last piece,” he said and hooked his thumbs under the waistband of your panties. He rubbed soothing circles into your hips. “Ready?”

You bit your lip again and nodded. “Yes.”

Astarion mirrored your nod, then gently pulled at the fabric. Again, you raised your hips to help him with the process. Once the fabric was discarded, you were met with the chill of the night air cooling your folds. You shifted uncomfortably. 

“Wow,” Astarion muttered.

“I’m not hideously deformed or something, am I?” You asked, genuinely nervous, but making a joke of it. 

“Quite the opposite, love.” He spread your legs further which made you look up to the trees behind you in embarrassment. You bent your legs at the knees to give him better access regardless. “It’s taking everything in me to hold myself back.” 

“I’m sure you say that to every person you bed.” You were deflecting again.

“Mmm, but I’ve never quite meant it as I do right now.” Astarion turned his head and kissed your inner thigh. You were both quiet for a moment, then you heard him say, “Look at me.”

You ran your hands over your face, then lifted yourself to sit back on your arms and watch him. He was positioned on his stomach in front of your core. The sight made you let out a shaky breath. 

“I’m going to taste you,” Astarion said, clearly satisfied with his current position. “If you don’t like something, or if I hurt you, or if any other little thing at all bothers you, tap me with your foot and I’ll stop. Okay?”

“Okay,” you said. 

A wicked grin spread across Astarion’s face and he lowered himself to you without breaking eye contact. You weren’t sure what he was doing until you felt his tongue lick a long stripe up your folds. A cry of pleasure escaped you before you could hold back and Astarion took that as a cue to keep going. He brought his arms around your thighs and placed his hands on your hips, locking you in place. 

He licked and sucked up and down your folds a few times before he attached himself to your clit and swirled his tongue. You cried out again and let yourself fall all the way back onto the pillows.

“Good,” you heard Astarion say. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

Before you could respond, he returned to his spot on your clit and began sucking hard. You cried out in ecstacy, unable to hold back. If he kept this up, you’d fall over the edge in no time. 

As if he could sense your thoughts, he stopped and you let out a pathetic whine. “I’m going to try something new. Again, if you don’t like it-”

You didn’t bother sitting up to look at him, just flashed him a thumbs up from your spot on the ground. 

You felt him laugh as he kissed your inner thigh again and stopped in front of your core. This time, you felt one of his fingers slide up and down your folds to coat itself in a combo of your slick and Astarion’s spit. You sat up again to watch as Astarion slowly dipped his middle finger into your cunt. Your breath caught in your throat and Astarion paused to make sure you were alright. After a moment of adjustment, you nodded for him to continue and laid back down. 

Slowly, and then with more vigor, Astarion pumped his finger in and out of your dripping hole. You squeezed your eyes tight, not used to a finger that wasn’t your own. The initial shock gave way to pleasure again as Astarion began to suck on your clit once more. He rubbed soothing circles into your hip as tiny sounds of euphoria escaped your mouth with each pump and curl of his finger, and your hands gripped onto the blankets beneath you for dear life.

Astarion pulled his mouth away again but continued to pump. You bent up to look at him, breathing heavily. “I’m going to add another finger.” When he saw the nervous look in your eye, he ran his free hand up and down your thigh. “It might be unpleasant for a moment, but I promise it will get better.”

You nodded.

“Ready?” His eyes were soft.

You trusted him. “Yes.”

He smiled at you and returned his focus to between your legs. You felt his index finger glide through your folds, preparing itself to join his middle finger. You were surprised when you felt Astarion’s cool chest slide against your own. He’d shifted himself upwards and kissed your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. Then he looked down towards his hand where you both saw his index finger disappear into your cunt. 

Your hands immediately flew to his shoulders as you gasped sharply. 

“It’s okay,” Astarion cooed and kissed your temple. He waited a moment before moving his hand. When you signaled that he could continue, he began pumping slowly. You felt him readjust his hand so that his thumb could rub circles into your clit while his other fingers continued to pump into you. 

You whimpered at the stretch and squeezed your eyes tightly. Astarion used his other hand to brush hair out of your face. 

“You’re doing great, love,” he said. “You’re taking my fingers so well. Pretty soon you’ll be taking my cock.” You whined at him and tightened a fist into his hair. He groaned in response and kissed you hungrily.

It took a few more moments, but the stretch finally gave way from discomfort into something much more pleasant. You let out a small satisfied sound and Astarion curled his fingers and began to pick up the pace. You opened your eyes again to look at him and once again found him staring. 

“Hello,” he said with a goofy grin.

You smiled back at him, breathing heavily and moaning when he hit a particularly sensitive spot. 

“That’s it. Good girl.” Astarion kissed your throat. He angled his hand to hit that spot again, and then you felt him spread his fingers while they were inside of you. You sucked in a breath and swept a hand through Astarion’s hair, accidentally brushing his ear in the process. He moaned loudly against you in response. 

His thumb picked up speed on your clit and you could feel yourself approaching the edge again. 

“Astarion,” you sighed, bucking your hips into his hand.

“What is it, sweet girl?” He kissed your jaw.

“I’m close.”

You felt his fangs graze your skin as he smiled. “Good. Don’t hold back.” His free hand began to knead your right breast. 

“Harder,” you instructed, and Astarion made a noise of affirmation. His fingers picked up speed and your hips kept rising to meet them. 

“Kiss me,” you practically begged.

“With pleasure,” Astarion barely finished the sentiment before his mouth was on yours. 

Though he was kissing you, you weren’t reciprocating as much as you’d like to, as your mouth kept opening to let out sounds of ecstasy. Astarion bit your bottom lip with his front teeth and pulled ever so slightly, causing your eyes to flutter backwards and shut.

You wrapped your leg around his back, pulling him closer, a sure sign that you weren’t using your foot to tap out and instead wanted to feel more of him. This allowed for a new angle that had you seeing stars and Astarion adjusted quickly to chase the sounds of delight that had just come from your mouth. Soon you felt yourself clench around his fingers as you reached your climax. Waves of pleasure overtook you and you cried out for Astarion who kissed you senselessly all over your face. 

He murmured encouragement as you were coming down. “Oh, yes, darling, there you go, you’re gripping me so tight, you feel so good, so warm, I could practically come myself, can’t wait to feel you around me.” 

“Oh gods,” you said, detaching your hands from Astarion’s hair and catching your breath. “You’re really good at that.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling you, dear.”

You hummed a sarcastic agreement and pushed him away from you. The stupid smug grin never left his face.

Instead, he made his way back down your legs. 

You watched as he went. “What are you doing?”

Without warning, Astarion licked your folds again. “Cleaning up.”

“How noble,” you said shakily.

“I am a consummate lover,” he reminded you. 

“Lucky me,” your legs instinctively came together to squeeze Astarion’s head. 

You felt his tongue dip into your cunt, which made you gasp and squeeze your legs even tighter. He continued, playing off the satisfied sounds you were making, until you squeezed maybe a little too hard from overstimulation.

“Well don’t squeeze me to death,” Astarion said, moving to clean the leftover mess on your thighs with his tongue. “I mean, I’m already dead but… you know what I mean.”

You laughed and reached your hands down to play with his hair. Out of curiosity, you brought both hands to rub the tips of his ears. His tongue paused its languid strokes on your thighs and you felt cool air against his saliva as he let out a deeply satisfied moan. He looked over at you and you smirked.

“Good to know,” you said.

“Cheeky,” he murmured before kissing your thigh and setting it down flat. He crawled back up, hovering over you before kissing you passionately. You could feel his cock, still straining through his underwear, press against your pelvis. You disconnected the kiss to look down at where your hips connected.

Astarion’s eyes followed yours. “Ah,” he said. He looked back at you and found you biting your thumbnail nervously. “Would you like to see it?” His voice was the pinnacle of calm.

It soothed you. “Yes,” you said.

He rolled off of you and sat beside you. You sat up and watched as he pulled the fabric down his legs and his cock sprang up to hit his abdomen. He settled back next to you and chuckled at your wide-eyed expression. 

“That’s not so bad,” you said absently.

“Ouch, darling.”

“No, wait, that’s not what I-” You saw Astarion smirking at you and you reached over to punch his bicep, to which he laughed.

“Would you like to touch it?” he asked, his voice wobbling mildly.

“Okay,” you said and let him take your hand into his. He guided you to his tip which was wet with precum and placed your hand gently around it, his own hand never leaving yours. He led your hand further down his shaft, showing you how to twist your wrist as you went. You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, but he was much softer than you’d imagined. Cold, yes, but his skin was so soft compared to the stiff cartilage beneath. Like velvet over steel. 

He sucked in a shaky breath. “My gods, you’re warm.”

“That’ll be the blood,” you quipped, very aware that your hand was gripping his dick. 

“I will kill you,” he muttered.

“You will not.”

“I will not,” he agreed. “Especially while you’re holding me.”

“Hopefully not ever,” you clarified. 

“We’ll see,” he teased and you squeezed his cock in warning. That led Astarion to let out a strangled moan. 

“Oh, really?” You raised your eyebrows mischievously and squeezed again, this time twisting your wrist like he showed you.

“Ooooh-kay,” Astarion moaned and grabbed your wrist. “Darling, I’m already very close to losing it, at least let me be inside of you first.”

You felt your face flush and released his dick. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Astarion soothed. He pulled you into his side and kissed the crown of your head. “Shall we continue?”

And here it was. The moment you had feared for so long. Yet here with Astarion under the stars, you felt ready. He’d been nothing but patient and kind all evening, so different from his normal flamboyant and sometimes callous demeanor. He was listening and he was teaching and it seemed like more than anything, he wanted you to be comfortable. If there was anyone you were going to do this with, you thanked any god that was listening that it was Astarion holding your hand through it. 

“Yes,” you said finally.

“Wonderful,” Astarion smiled roguishly, flashing his fangs as he pushed your shoulders down and straddled your hips. He bent and kissed your mouth, balancing on his forearms and twisting a hand into your hair. When he pulled back, his eyes were the softest you’d ever seen them. “You’re incredible,” he said.

“Aw shucks,” you said stupidly.

Astarion rolled his eyes and kissed you again. “I can’t believe I agreed to this.”

You laughed and pet some of the hair back from his face. “The bards will sing songs of your sacrifice.”

“The only thing I want to hear from a bard is my name cried from your lips.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Did you just come up with that?”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” he said. “Enough stalling, my love, are you ready?”

You looked down at your hips and saw Astarion lightly stroking himself in front of your entrance. You met his eye. 

“I’m scared,” you admitted softly. 

Astarion bent to kiss you again, long and slow. “Remember how well you did a minute ago?”

“That was just your fingers,” you said, arms wrapped around his neck.

“Sure, but you were scared then, too.”

You nodded.

“And what happened?”

“It felt good,” you said shyly. 

“Exactly,” Astarion bumped his nose against yours affectionately. “The same thing will happen here. And I’ll be right here the whole time.”

You nodded again. Astarion nodded with you.

“That’s my good girl,” he said, kissing your cheek. You felt the head of his cock bump your folds. 

Your eyes widened and you looked back down at your hips. 

“I’m going to go nice and slow,” Astarion said, catching your eye. “Even though I want nothing more than to fuck you senseless.”

“Astarion!” You sounded scandalized, but your face conveyed that you enjoyed it.

Astarion growled and playfully gnashed his teeth before clearing his throat.

“It’s probably going to be uncomfortable at first, my dear,” he said. “But tell me exactly how you’re feeling. When I said I wanted to give you the best possible first experience with sex, I meant it.”

“You’re doing great so far,” you batted your eyes at him.

“You keep saying things like that as if you’re surprised,” he teased. 

You jerked involuntarily when you felt Astarion drag his length through your folds.

“This will make it easier,” he explained. “Though I must say, you feel divine, even just like this.”

You whimpered and tightened your arms around his neck. 

After a few more strokes of his cock through your folds, Astarion gripped himself and positioned the head at your core. 

“Ready?” He asked, eyes searching your face. 

You blinked a few times. “Yes.”

Astarion slowly pushed into you. You felt the discomfort right away and whined loudly, squeezing your eyes tight. 

“I know, my sweet,” he said, moving as slowly as possible. “You’re being so brave.”

The uncomfortable stretch was all you could focus on and the sting that accompanied it. “How much more?” You asked, your eyes still shut tight. 

“About halfway,” he said, audibly struggling. 

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. “Piece of cake,” you joked, once again trying to lighten the mood, your voice shaking. 

Astarion made a frustrated noise. “I am inside of you, and you’re making jokes.”

“Are you surprised?” You opened your eyes to look at him.

“I-” He thought for a moment. “No, honestly.”

You laughed, but inhaled sharply when the vein running along Astarion’s shaft stretched you in a new way.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Astarion soothed, smoothing your hair back. “Almost there.”

“Hurry up,” you groaned. 

“No need,” Astarion said. You felt his hips flush against yours. “I won’t move again until you’re ready.” He was trying to sound relaxed, but you sensed how badly he wanted to keep going.

You closed your eyes again and nodded, attempting to get accustomed to the feeling of having someone, Astarion, inside of you. It was an odd feeling, but not wholly unpleasant. After a moment of adjustment, you reached for his bicep and squeezed.

“Go ahead,” you confirmed.

Astarion let out a groan and began to pump his hips tentatively. “You are deliciously tight, my love.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you focused on the waning pain that was gradually turning into the promised pleasure. 

“Oh…” You breathed.

“Yes,” Astarion murmured and grazed his fangs along your throat. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

“Yes,” you sighed, hooking your arms under his to grip his back. Your fingers traced the ridges you found there absently. “You can go a little faster,” you instructed.

“Of course, love,” Astarion buried his face between your neck and shoulder and began pumping faster. 

Your voice bobbed with every thrust of his hips, turning your moans of pleasure into a jaunty tune. You’d laugh if you weren’t so caught up in the ecstasy of it all. “Harder,” you said, wrapping your legs around Astarion’s hips to pull him even closer. 

A rumble of a growl came from Astarion’s throat as he pulled back and slammed back into you. His hand reached for your breast and you felt him lick your neck. 

You let out a shuddering breath. “Astarion,” you moaned.

“My love,” he moaned in response. “So tight. So good for me.” 

The praise spurred you on and made you begin rolling your hips in time with his thrusts. 

“Yes, darling, taking me so well,” Astarion snapped his hips even faster and with more force.

You cried out in delight. “More!” 

Astarion’s free hand came down to begin circling your clit. “That’s where you need me, isn’t it?”

You let out a high pitched keen. “Please,” you practically wept. 

“Please what?” His mouth was right next to your ear.

“Please fuck me,” you said breathily.

Astarion’s mouth connected with yours in a sloppy display of tongues and teeth. He began to slam his hips into you at an unforgiving speed. You swallowed his grunts of pleasure as he continued to lick into your mouth. Your breath caught in your throat when he switched the direction he was rubbing your clit. 

“Astarion,” you tried to sound cognisant, despite your eyes rolling back into your head. 

“Mmm,” his lips connected with your jaw.

“Bite me,” you said.

Astarion immediately paused. He looked at you. 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” You could see the hunger burning in his eyes beneath the lust.

“Yes,” you said and angled your neck so he’d have better access to your throat. “But I expect you to keep fucking me.”

“I won’t stop again until I make you cum,” he flashed his fangs at you and rolled his hips into yours. He nosed along your throat until he found his favorite spot to drink from. “Thank you,” he murmured before you felt his teeth sink into you.

Ice erupted in your veins and your hands flew to his hair. After a second, Astarion’s hips began to pick up speed again. Soon, his punishing pace returned, perhaps even faster than before.

He took long pulls of blood from your neck and the pleasant numbness that accompanied it only added to the pleasure you were experiencing as he pumped himself in and out of your cunt relentlessly. Your hands found his ears and began massaging them tenderly. Astarion whimpered into you, his thrusts becoming sloppy from the sensation. You could feel yourself becoming a bit lightheaded, but you were too enraptured by the vampire to care. 

When he’d had enough, he pulled away from your neck and licked the fresh wounds, making sure no wayward blood escaped and soothing the sting left behind. 

“Still delicious,” he purred into your ear. “Even though we can safely say you’re no longer a virgin.”

You yelped and lightly smacked the side of his head. “Make me cum then, casanova.”

“What, again?” Astarion smirked and thrust into you particularly hard. 

“Yes, again,” you said, pulling him in for a deep kiss. Despite the casual tone in your exchange, both of you were breathing laboriously. 

“Your blood made me even harder,” Astarion pulled lightly on your earlobe with his teeth, “if that’s even possible.”

You groaned and rolled your hips to meet his again. 

“I’m afraid I’m not going to last much longer, darling,” he said, his voice strained. 

“Keep going,” you encouraged.

Astarion buried his face in your neck again and thrust rapidly. He brought his fingers to his mouth and then moved them down to your clit to continue their ministrations. You moaned at the cool sensation and felt yourself approaching the edge. 

“I’m c-close, too,” you said, voice catching as Astarion ran a hand along your thigh. 

He hummed into your mouth and then spread your legs wider with his knee, making your own knees fall to the sides. From this new angle, Astarion was able to thrust into you even deeper. 

You cried out in surprise that quickly morphed into a whine of pleasure. 

“Go ahead, my sweet,” he cooed. “You’ve been so good for me, feel so good.”

His lips found yours again and with a few more circles of your clit and deep thrusts of his cock, you were falling over the edge and seeing stars. Your cunt gripped him like a vice and pulsed around him.

“Astarion!” You cried, reaching out to grab at his back, looking for something to anchor you as the waves of pleasure coursed through you for a third time tonight. “Oh, Astarion,” you sighed.

“Keep singing my name, bard, and I’ll cum right now,” Astarion’s voice was uneven as he continued thrusting into you, chasing his own high.

You moved your mouth to his ear. “Astarion,” you murmured. You moved to his other ear. “You made me feel so good.” You kissed his cheek. “You’ve ruined me forever-” you moved back to his other ear, “-Astarion.”

The man in question’s thrusts became sloppy and he cried out your name. He held you tightly as you felt his cum shoot into your channel, warming you from the inside. Another new sensation to add to the books, but one you’d happily experience if it meant having Astarion inside of you. 

After a few more groans and whimpers, Astarion’s body finally relaxed and fell onto you. He rested his chin on your chest and looked at you smugly. 

“So I’ve ruined you forever, you say.”

If you weren’t still trying to catch your breath, you’d groan. “You’re insufferable.”

“No, no, go on about how I’ve ruined you forever. You have such a way with words.” Astarion rested his head on his chin, as if waiting to hear some gossip, despite still being inside of you.

You rolled your eyes. “That was really good.”

“And?”

“And I hope we get to do it again.” 

Astarion laughed, his bright airy one that always brought a smile to your face. “Darling, if you think I’m going to leave you alone after that, you’re sorely mistaken.” 

You couldn’t help the smug look of your own. “I was that good, huh?”

“My love, you were wonderful,” he said, leaning forward to kiss you. “Hang on for a second. This might be uncomfortable again.” He slowly pulled himself out of you, and you felt a combo of his cum and your own drip down your legs. You shivered as he kissed you again. “I have so much more to teach you.” He looked at you wickedly. 

“I was trying to tell you earlier that I did really well in school, so that won’t be a problem.” 

“Somehow you keep surprising me with how lame you are.”

“Thank you.”

Astarion grabbed a small cloth at the edge of the blanket nest. He brought it back to you and began wiping down your legs. “Don’t want you falling asleep with that mess down there.”

“Oh, so now you want to sleep with me?” You raised your eyebrows at him, making sure he heard your pun. “My, my, things are moving fast for us.” You cupped Astarion’s cheek and kissed him.

“Would you rather walk back to camp? After I’ve so thoroughly ruined you?” He bumped his nose into yours.

“Sleeping under the stars with you sounds perfect, Astarion.”

“Good,” he said, pulling on his pants and tossing you his shirt. You put it on without a second thought. He laid out a pillow next to yours. “Come here,” he extended his arms, motioning for you to join him. You quickly curled into his side and rested your head on his chest. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you said. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“No, really,” you lifted yourself up to look at him. “You didn’t have to do any of that, but you did. And I’m grateful.”

“Yes, well… I care about you. Weirdly.”

You snorted. “I care about you, too, weirdo.”

He kissed the crown of your head. “Get some sleep. I hate to say it, but you’ll probably be sore tomorrow.”

“You love to say it.”

Astarion sighed happily. “I do. I can’t wait to see the looks on everyone’s faces tomorrow.” 

You groaned loudly. “Oh gods…” You hid your face in his chest. 

He laughed. “They’re bound to find out eventually, darling. And if anything, they’ll be jealous.”

“Well, yeah, I mean, you could have slept with anyone at camp-”

“Not jealous of you, darling, jealous of me.”

“What?” You shot him a look of confusion. 

“Oh yes, love, nearly all of our traveling companions want a piece of you-”

“They do not-”

“-and yet, you’re mine.”

Before you could argue, Astarion kissed you deeply, his mouth moving against yours with such passion and care that it made you dangerously close to saying something neither of you were prepared for yet. 

All in good time. 

For now, you were content to sleep under the stars in Astarion’s arms. 

It was the best sleep you’d ever had. 

[aberrant-annie]

Synopsis: [Astarion x Tav/Reader] Human contact had always been violent or contractual for Astarion, until he'd made your acquaintance.

Three occasions when touch defined the relationship between you both.

Content: Angst, romance, humour, pre-relationship, budding feelings, violence.

Rating: M

Dividers by: @xurengu0

(i)

The road isn’t kind to those who aren't prepared.

You can see, in the way that each of them dresses their wounds, that they’ve all seen their fair share of the hardships that long (and solitary) journeys can bring.

Your companions are a strange contrast of familiar and new; the sharp edges of mood and tongue, smoothed out by the weighted comfort of a back pressed against yours in the heat of battle.

You barely know them, any of them, and yet you do know that Karlach’s footsteps are as light as a cat’s, in spite of her muscular frame, that Shadowheart’s hands smell of incense in the evenings, that Will’s breathing sometimes stills completely when he sleeps, and that Lae’zel’s skin feels slippery to the touch right before a fight.

And Astarion.

Astarion with his cool, barely calloused palms. Astarion, who had learned how to smile such that his canines didn't drag against his lips. Astarion, whose laugh sounds particularly mocking when someone thanks you for your help. Astarion, who can mend the delicate lace of his collar with the same deftness that he uses to slide a blade home between the ribs.

Your attention never wanders far from him. He compels it, and you feel a small sense of chagrin that he is fully aware of the fact. Even with that, you can tell that something about you confuses him, that sometimes your reactions are not the kind he has been expecting.

You are aware of it even now, watching him nearby as he winces. It seemed, to your observant eye, that the slash across his side had not been adequately seen to with the healing potion he’d consumed earlier.

He is subtle about it, realising with dissatisfied resignation that he wouldn’t be able to tend to the wound, before slumping over on his side, pale skin set aglow by the campfire. Resting on his cushion, he looks, for all intents and purposes, as if he is simply relaxing after the skirmish.

Then, he notices your eyes on him. You don’t bother looking away. A lazy smile drifts across his face, the corner of his mouth curling in a manner both seductive and knowing. He traces a finger down the middle of his chest and you bite back a laugh. You shake your head and the finger stops in its passage, one fine eyebrow arching in silent query.

It's as close to an invitation to talk as you’ll receive. Rising, you make your way over, dropping into a crouch beside him.

“Does it hurt?”

His eyes open a little wider in feigned innocence.

“Does what hurt?”

“Now isn’t the time to play coy, Astarion.”

“My lovely dove, I’m quite sure I don’t know what you – “

You reach across, before he has a chance to recoil and prod his side gently. Hissing like an angry cat, Astarion straightens and shoots you a glare.

“My little dove certainly wants to get her talons into me.”

“Keep still.”

The flare of healing energy across your fingertips silences him for a moment. Grudgingly, he shifts closer, expression rather petulant as you place a palm over his side.

Astarion does not give off the heat of living flesh, but there is something substantial to him, something that stakes its claim here, under your touch, in a way that demands acknowledgement. You can feel the slight shift of lean muscle in his flank under the soft linen of the shirt, the tension that eases, the small exhale of relief.  

He does not thank you, not right now, but a secret smile finds a home on your face when he closes his eyes and turns away from you, shutting off any further conversation. To anyone else, it would seem like a snub. You know better.

Astarion had never fallen asleep with his back to another.

Not until now.  

(ii)

It’s a rare occurrence to get your hands on some truly stellar ingredients, and when you do, Gale takes over all culinary matters as soon as possible.

When the boar you’ve hunted has been appropriately prepared, some of the choicer pieces set aside for curing and tomorrow’s pot, he begins to dice the meat finely on a smooth wooden plank he has procured for the purpose.

You join him after watching for a minute, curious. Gale chuckles and hands you the herbs, which you wash in a small basin.

“This is a recipe I found in an old cookbook. Herbed sausage, best with pork. You use the cleaned intestines as a casing and fry them in fat in a pan. Delicious with a savoury root mash.”

You’re practically salivating at that description.

“Sounds wonderful, but … what’s that for?”

Your chin jerks in the direction of the pail beside Gale, containing strained pig’s blood. His eyes lift, dart past you momentarily, and a small smile shifts the trimmed edges of his moustache.

“Well … you know how I love to experiment … “

“With blood?”

“Trust me.”

When it comes time to fill the cleaned casings, Gale mixes the blood with the herbed meat mixture in some of the prepared sausages. He sets these aside with care into lightly heated water, as opposed to the robust frying the plain sausages receive.  He teaches you the technique, and soon you take over that particular duty.

It’s only then that you notice Astarion, seated elegantly on a nearby tree stump, book in hand, watching the proceedings with more attention than usual. You catch his eye and wave him over. He puts down the book, sauntering towards the campfire.

“Not like you to get involved with more than the hunting, darling,” is the rather snippy comment he offers.

You grin slyly up at him, and flex your fingers, still coated in a sheen of pig’s blood. Astarion’s bravado falters, for just a moment. You see a glimmer of hunger, of interest, in his gaze.

Well then.

Your resident vampire normally gave regular food, and its preparation, a wide berth.

Gale cleared his throat.

“So, Astarion, would you give us a hand with the blood sausages? They require more of a skilled touch so that they don’t break.”

There is the briefest moment of hesitation before you feel Astarion pass behind you, out of your line of vision. He can be deathly silent when the fancy takes him, probably the reason you hadn’t picked up on his presence earlier.

Then, he is crouching beside you.

For a rogue with razor-edged tongue, steel and eyes, he always surprises you with the subtle gentility of his presence. Soft curls ghost against the edge of your cheek as he leans forward, the brush of his sleeve against your bare arm like a breeze that blows in from the sea. For all the times he has traced playful fingers across your form, for all the suggestive remarks he’s aimed and fired your way, for all the times his body has made overt, teasing contact with yours, it is this barely perceptible touch that has a tiny army of raised hairs stand all along the skin of your neck.   

Together, you work the mixture into the casing, his knuckles grazing yours in a slow, steady rhythm. You find that it is easier not to think, to simply indulge in the sensation of being this close to him, in the faint, now familiar aroma of the geranium-scented soap he uses to wash his clothes and the cool fragrance of his hair.

Astarion is unusually quiet, and you chance a glance sideways to see a rare moment of focused tranquillity, the relaxed set of his shapely mouth, the earnest expression as he tries his best to portion the filling within the casing with accuracy. The blood, its slippery copper tang rising from both your hands, seems to lure him into a contemplative trance, as opposed to the feral hunger you’d seen from him when you’d allowed him to taste your blood.

When you are done, he transfers the chain of sausages to the pan of simmering water with finesse. Gale’s smile is infectious as he thanks you both for your assistance, his attention already taken up with the brisk stirring of his root vegetable mash.

“Don’t get used to it,” comes Astarion’s quick rejoinder.

“Oh, come now. You’re actually pretty good at this. Deft hands and all that.”

“My hands are suited for less mundane pursuits.”

“Nothing about cooking is mundane, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh, you’re absolutely right, Gale! After all, I haven’t just watched you take an eternity to skin some anaemic-looking spuds.”

Karlach and Wyll chose that moment to make an appearance, drawn in by the scent of food. Astarion uses the distraction to make a graceful exit.

You’re about to call after him, to enquire whether he was really not interested in trying the food, when you spy the small plate in his hand, bearing its treasured load of blood sausage. You don’t know when he’d managed to sneak that from right beneath your nose, but Astarion’s sleight of hand is not a thing to be taken lightly.  

What you don’t miss is the cheeky smirk he sends your way as he dips a slice into a small bowl of what you can only assume is your own stored blood, and the manner with which he slides it into his mouth. Sharp fangs glinting with red-tinted glee, Astarion’s moan of satisfaction is nothing short of excessive.

(iii)

There is no such thing as an easy battle.

There are no rules to combat, at least, not the kind you’ve always been party to.

Bandits don’t wait for you to draw your weapons. The might of a wizard is not always a guarantee of victory after a targeted silencing enchantment. Nature, the Gods that walk an elevated plane, the Weave, none of these elements beyond your full knowing roll the dice to your advantage on every occasion.

Separated from the rest of your group, surrounded by enemies in a shadowed temple, you have nothing to rely on beside your weapon, your wit, and Astarion. Strangely, under these perilous circumstances, his presence is a fleet-footed, death-dealing comfort.

Perched quietly on a ledge, in order to give you the advantage of higher ground, you scope out the room below. Your superior vision in the dim light of the few torches allows you to follow the vampire’s movement along the edges of the room.

Faint, imperceptible to the senses of others, Astarion’s stealthy passage is less than a minute shift of shadow in deeper darkness. A thing of beauty, to anyone who had appreciation for such things. You certainly do.

Fingers tracing slowly over the feathered fletching of an arrow, you sight the position of the enemies below. Breathing controlled, posture relaxed, scenting the slight shift in the current of fresh air that comes through a vent in the ceiling, you hold your position.

Astarion strikes.

Body uncoiling from the shadows, his mouth finds the throat of the nearest bandit with unerring accuracy. A gurgling gasp is all the man manages as a dagger sheathes itself in his back.

The distraction is what you’ve been waiting for. Your first arrow sings through the air, straight through the heart of the rogue who holds no candle to Astarion. You could have spotted him a mile off in his poorly selected nook.

Astarion moves left, and you to the right. You know this dance.

Leaping lightly to another rafter, you spin on steady feet, watching as a ray of something brilliant lances past Astarion’s ear. Holy light is, indeed, a worthy attack to use on a vampire. You have to admire the warlock who ‘s clearly thinking on the fly. She must have been a great asset to her party, but no longer, not with your next arrow tearing through her neck, spinning her in a violent arc across the stone sarcophagus she had been crouched against.

Even with three members of the other group down, neither you nor Astarion slow the momentum of your attack.

There is no such thing as an easy battle.

This you know, as you watch the paladin prepare for action, now that he’d bestowed the necessary blessings upon himself.

This one was strong. He bore the scent of practiced slaughter, gaze unflinching even as he'd witnessed the fall of his companions.

You cannot take him head on, that much is evident.

Astarion isn’t hiding. Your eyes track his movements, the slow, taunt in the flourish of his blade. The paladin leaps, the downward sweep of his greatsword powerful enough to bisect a living being from scalp to groin. Astarion doesn’t move, not even as the clean, razor edge comes hurtling towards him.

Your arrow finds the paladin’s knee, knocking him entirely off balance.

Then, and only then, in a perfectly timed breath of illusion, Astarion vanishes into the surrounding darkness. Muttering a quick incantation to still gravity’s effect on you, you drop from the rafters. Your arrows become knives as you plunge them into the paladin’s back, the muscles of your thighs absorbing the impact before you leap lightly away.

The one-armed swing of the greatsword nearly catches you off guard, its metallic breath ghosting along your collarbone. The paladin is slower, though. The poison you’ve coated your weapons with is taking effect, but with an enemy like this, you cannot let your guard down for a moment.

It is now that you feel him, the slow, cool brush of his palm against the inside of your elbow.

Astarion.

He has used your presence to hide his own, a cunning manipulation of awareness. You know that to the opponent’s eyes, his form will appear all but invisible, his limbs lightly shimmering extensions of your own. In bright light, the illusion may not hold up to inspection, but within the high-ceilinged halls of this windowless tomb, it is all too effective.

The paladin lunges, his strike steady, but already lacking speed. You dodge around the blow, circling. Astarion moves with you. Changing tack, a leg kicks out, aiming to knock you off balance. You are too nimble for such ploys.

Here, away from the concealing safety of the high ground, danger fogs the air you breathe, electric, heavy. Blood pounds in your ears, your muscles quivering eagerly, on the cusp of reflexive movement. Astarion’s feet shift across the floor, in tandem with yours, and his grace bleeds into the soft sway of your torso. His fingers trace fine lines of fire across your back, down the rippling curve of your spine, and you know that his own lithe form echoes each movement as if he has become one with your shadow.

He is here, with you.

He is the soft return of a bard’s final note, the plaintive song of a thrush in an empty forest, the slow, visceral dance of mortality enshrined in the red, red touch of his skin on yours.   

There is no honour in this killing, no higher aim other than to survive.

But elegance, oh yes. There is plenty of that.

The next assault, goaded by your inaction, is a wide sweep, designed to slash and maim. You drop into a crouch, and you see the fierce triumph in the paladin’s eyes. Forcing you into limited movement had been his primary aim.

Such excellent control, even now, as poison floods his veins.

It’s a pity, really.

You brace yourself as Astarion’s feet leave the floor, his back rolling smoothly across yours and you heave upward, launching him forward. From formless to tangible, his twin weapons lash out, once, twice, severing the jugular of the warrior. Your thrown dagger finds the wrist of the arm that holds the greatsword a moment later, and your opponent slumps to the floor, a vivid spray of crimson decorating Astarion’s face and your jerkin with acrid warmth.

Your breathing evens, slowly, your eyes stinging from the perspiration that slides down across your brow.

It is over.

Your body, however, remembers. Astarion turns to you and smiles through ruddy blood splatter. His eyes are darker than the depths of any tomb, and infinitely more delightful.

The spoken word is meaningless here, and now, between you both. He extends a hand, and you take it, his strong, supple fingers enclosing yours with all the delicacy they lacked when they dashed out the lifeblood of your common enemy.

Your dance is complete, for now.     

There is no such thing as an easy battle, and death had never been beautiful to you, until Astarion had courted it by your side.     

@tattoo-of-a-bird Thanks for the encouragement!

[aberrant-annie]

The Fool

Summary: As you lie, nestled into Astarion’s chest, he considers his feelings - his damned, complicated feelings.

Alternatively, Astarion experiences all 5 stages of grief in 10 minutes.

Rating: T Word Count: 816 Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Content: First person Astarion POV, fluff and angst, rather a lot of angst actually, feelings denial, Astarion needs a hug, cuddling, Astarion's simple plan beginning to fall apart.

A/N: You know when you’re lying in bed, unable to sleep until you write down that idea that’s managed to worm its way into your brain at unspeakable hours of the night? Here we have a slightly angsty drabble that decided to do just that! After the reception to the Gale first person POV, I wanted to try my hand at an Astarion POV. Hopefully you enjoy!

A fool lies in this tent.

Look at you, nestled into my side, sleeping peacefully against my chest as if a vampire’s embrace is the safest place in all the realms. Utterly ridiculous. So trusting, so… pliant. All according to plan, really. I set the trap - a few choice words here, a few lingering touches there - and you walked right into it. Just like I knew you would.

Just like all the others do.

Well, not quite like all the others. You actually believe there's something redeemable in me, don't you? How deliciously naïve.

Do you even realise what you've fallen for? What I am? A monster, a liar, a parasite. Oh, my dear, the fool you are.

Though I suppose your particular brand of foolishness has its… uses. Your blind faith in my redemption is almost charming.

No. Not charming. It’s pathetic. Pathetically predictable. It can’t be charming. Because, if it is, I’m no better than the fool I mock.

You shift slightly in your sleep, and I resist the urge to recoil. This charade - this playing at romance, at desire - it shouldn’t affect me so. I’m above this. I’ve spent centuries perfecting the art of manipulation, of taking what I need. It was supposed to be easy: charm you, bed you, and secure my safety. A means to an end. But as I lay here, with your warmth pressed against me, my chest begins to tighten. Not in fear or hunger, but in something… complicated.

Anger begins to burn at the back of my throat. Good. Anger is familiar. It’s safer, easier to control.

This is your fault, you know. No, worse - it’s mine. My fault that I have been reduced to this - a creature desperate enough to sell the only scraps of autonomy I have left. You think this closeness is love, don’t you? But it’s not. It’s survival. It has always been survival.

But then again… 

You’re not like the others at all, are you? Those who took without asking, without care. Your touch is… gentle. Always so damnably gentle. You’ve never grabbed, never demanded, never treated me like a thing to be used. With you, it hasn’t all been… bad. No, that’s not right - it’s been tolerable. Almost pleasant at times, really. Your touch doesn’t make my skin crawl; your voice doesn’t grate on my nerves. I tell myself it’s because you’re useful. That’s all this is. 

That’s all it can ever be.

If I were to tell you the truth, what would you do? If I were to push you away, would you stay? If I were to let you in, would you hurt me? These questions gnaw at me, demanding answers I don't have. 

Answers I don't want.

Even now, as you sleep, your fingers rest light as feathers on my chest. It’s maddening. Infuriating. How dare you? How dare you make this difficult? This was supposed to be simple. You were supposed to be simple. 

I could kill you right now, you know. One quick movement, and all these feelings would disappear with you. Never again would you look at me like I'm something precious, something worth saving, like I’m–

“... Astarion,” you mumble drearily in your sleep.

Hells.

I should leave. I should push you away, remind you that I am not something to hold on to.

But I don’t move. 

Instead, I stay. Because the truth, the awful, unbearable truth, is that I don’t want to lose this. The selfish man I am.

A sigh escapes me. 

It’s exhausting. I’m exhausted. 

Gods, what an absolute mess you’ve made of my carefully laid plans. I find myself watching you sleep, counting your breaths, fighting the urge to brush that strand of hair from your face.

When did this happen? When did I start to care whether you lived or died beyond your usefulness to me?

I hate this. I hate that you’ve made me feel anything at all, but more than that, I hate myself for not hating it more. The way you defend me, the way you’ve never once looked at me with disgust or fear… it’s terrifying.

You’re terrifying.

Yet I can't bear to give it away.

Your fingers curl into my shirt in your sleep, and I find myself pulling you closer despite every screaming instinct to push you away. Protecting you, as if I have any right to do so. As if I deserve the way you lean into my touch, trust in my words, believe in my capacity for - dare I say it - goodness. As if I deserve any of this.

The moonlight filtering through the tent catches on your sleeping face, and something inside me breaks. Or perhaps it's finally mending. I'm not sure I know the difference anymore.

A bitter laugh escapes my lips, so soft I’m certain it won’t wake you. How poetic. How utterly absurd.

You, the fool, who dared to fall for me. 

And I, the greater fool for letting you.

Masterlist can be found here!

No Pressure Tags: @roguishcat, @davenswitcher, @silverfangmarks, @sparrowbard, @chonkercatto, @stokzr, @trafalgarussy, @asterordinary, @bite-me-tonight, @transparentkittenheart, @bg3-fanfic-reblogs

[aberrant-annie]

take this for the next time you’re sick 🪴

[aberrant-annie]

[aberrant-annie]

WHY IS THERE NO WRITING FOR HIM

GUYS, IT'S LITERALLY SUPERMAN HAS NO ONE EVER SEEN SMALLVILLE?! IM GOING CRAZY BECAUSE THERE IS LITERALLY NOTHING, NOT EVEN CRUMBS

PLS SOMEONE WRITE FOR HIM I WILL TAKE ANYTHING, FLUFF, ANGST, SMUT, HEADCANONS, DRABBLES, FULL ON FICS ANYTHING PLS, HES SO POOKIE

[aberrant-annie]

I’m so sad… time for an x reader fan fiction

[aberrant-annie]

All Over Him

Dean Winchester x reader (established relationship)

Other Characters: Sam Winchester

Warnings: language (like 1 i think), mention of blood and cuts, stitches

Summary: The boys come back from a hunt injured. Dean gets a little jealous when Sam gets the attention first.

Word Count: 853

Sam, Dean, and I were working a small salt and burn case in a town about three hours from the bunker. “Something easy.” Dean had said when we packed up to go. I was in charge of research this time, needing more time off from hunting due to a messed-up shoulder I got on the last case. Long story short, the witch was stronger than we thought, and I was thrown through a wall, my shoulder taking the entire hit. Dean instantly benched me until I could work without wincing from pain, leading to my curled-up position on the motel bed with the TV on and some random movie playing, even though I was reading my own book, relaxing in my pajamas with one of Dean’s flannels wrapped around me and rolled up to my elbows.

So, when the front door slammed open and two mountains of men came barreling in, both bleeding but one far worse than the other, I was on my feet. “The hell happened?” I half yelled, shutting the door, and throwing my hair into a bun in order to help my boys.

“Damn ghost got the jump on Sam. Took a shard of glass to the shoulder, got hit a few times.” Dean dropped his baby brother onto his bed as I grabbed the first aid kit from my bag.

“Go take a shower so I can see your cuts, De.” I told him, already starting to work on helping Sam. I sat myself beside Sam, pulling his shirt down in order to see the cut on his shoulder from the glass. “Damn Sammy. You’re gonna need stitches.” I quickly grabbed the needle and thread before handing Sam the whisky bottle from the bedside table. “Gonna need it.” Sam took a large swig from the bottle then handed it back, allowing me to pour a little on the wound to clean it.

Sam hissed in pain and his fingers twisted into the back of Dean’s shirt I was wearing. I started the stitching and made sure to be as careful and gentle as possible, keeping the stitches straight and even like my mother had taught me years ago. Dean had come out of the bathroom around the time I had moved to cleaning the cuts on Sam’s face. The older Winchester got dressed in a pair of sleep pants and a simple grey shirt. He had a glare in his eyes that was directed to his little brother and that he didn’t have when they came in.

“Ok.” I finished cleaning the last cut and picked up my trash, being careful to keep all the little pieces of glass in the tissues. “You’re good to go. Be careful with those stitches so you don’t rip one.”

“Thanks.” Sam released his hold on my shirt before he stood and took off for the bathroom to shower. I tossed my trash away then moved over to the other bed with the oldest Winchester laying across from it, favoring one side of his body.

“Dean? Can I look you over?” I asked as I sat down with my supplies.

“Why? You and Sammy looked pretty comfy over there. Sure, you don’t wanna go check on him again?” Dean had a venomous tone to his voice.

“The hell his wrong with you?” I questioned, crossing my arms over my chest. “You never let me check you first. It’s always Sam so I’m used to going to him first. He had glass in his wounds.”

“You didn’t have to be so close to him.” My eyes widened at his words. He was jealous of his little brother. “He didn’t need to be holding you.”

I took this time to gently toss a leg over his hips and sit in his lap. “Dean, baby? Sammy is like the big brother I never had. He was hurting and needed something to ground him.” My hands slid up his chest as I spoke, drawing a sigh from his lips. “Can I check your wounds now?” Dean nodded ever so slightly.

I repeated the process with Dean, getting him to sit and take a drink of whiskey to mask some of the pain that will come from cleaning his wounds. He didn’t let me move more than a few inches in order to get supplies, keeping me in his lap as I cleaned his cuts along his face and then checked the ribs he had been holding. “So, what’s the diagnosis doc? Will I live?” Dean asked as I finally packed away my things.

A smile crossed my lips. “Eh, there’s a possibility, but that all depends.”

“On what?” Dean played along.

“On if you take me out to breakfast tomorrow morning, just you and me.” Dean pulled me down to lay with my head on his chest and his arms around my hips, the blanket resting just above our legs.

“Of course.” He placed a long kiss to my head as Sam re-entered and flicked the lights off for bed. “Love you.”

“Love you too, De.” I snuggled into his side further as sleep engulfed me.

@thetallassgirl @hallecarey1

[aberrant-annie]

howley and aziraphil are here to save the world

howley and aziraphil are here to save the world

[aberrant-annie]

howley and aziraphil are here to save the world

howley and aziraphil are here to save the world

[aberrant-annie]

When I’m looking through the “x reader” tag, and even the TITLE SAYS “character x reader”, but when I start to read the fic it says “you have blonde hair, blue eyes, and your name is Hannah.”

[aberrant-annie]

A little Good Omens repaint of Madame X by J.S.Sargent ✨

[aberrant-annie]

The Tale of the Princess Kaguya (2013) | dir. Isao Takahata

[aberrant-annie]